against her flesh, hungry for more.
Oh, God, I need more.
Strong fingers caress my cunt, and when
something hard slips between my pussy’s open lips, I jerk up in
surprise. What’s going on? I thought I was being good. I
thought—
White Coat pushes my head back into place
before I can even turn around. Whatever he’s doing, it’s clear I
still have a job to do, and he’s not letting me up until every inch
of this bitch’s cunt is sparkling clean.
Well, fine, I can do that. I want to do that.
I lap at Miss Priss’s trembling sex with renewed passion, and
within seconds I have the bitch crooning and gasping beneath that
heavy ball gag. Her back arches, and I go at her harder, faster,
and then…then…
Then the vibrations hit me.
Oh, dear lord, the vibrations.
I’ve heard of vibrators before, but I’ve
never tried one. I’ve never before had the desire. But to feel that
thing inside me now, to feel it pulse and thrust as White Coat
works it in and out of me over and over again.
I gasp.
If this is the praise I get for being good,
then dear Lord, I never want to be bad.
With a hunger I never knew I had, I turn all
my attentions on Miss Priss. I have a job to do, and I want to be
good. I so, so want to be good.
Muffled gasps and moans sift through Miss
Priss’s gag, and the thrill of her pleasure is almost better than
my own. I’m intoxicated. I push myself farther. Every bit of
hesitation, revulsion, and shame is gone as I lose myself inside
this woman’s throbbing pussy.
I’m no longer Adair Bartlett. I’m Isa now.
I’m an animal, and I love it.
She comes not once but three times as I lick
and nibble her inner folds, and I can’t even count the number of
orgasms I experience. When White Coat finally pulls me away, I
struggle for one last taste of the blonde’s juices. I’m still so
hungry, so very hungry, and the taste of her, of this…it’s all
so…so…
His chuckle pulls me back to my senses.
In all the days I’ve spent with White Coat,
I’ve never once heard him laugh. Even a smile from my stoic trainer
is a precious rarity. So when I look up behind me now, it comes as
no surprise to see not White Coat but Master. He pulls the
still-pulsing vibrator from my dripping pussy, and that’s when the
shame hits.
Oh, God, what have I done?
I’ve soiled myself. I’ve done something
hideous, and I liked it. Dear God, I liked it.
I tremble as his hand reaches for my face,
but when I look up at him, there’s no revulsion in his eyes, not
even any ridicule. All I see is the same pride he’s always shown
me. This depravity, it pleases him, and for the life of me I can’t
understand why.
When he holds the soiled vibrator up to my
lips, I lick it clean automatically, and he strokes my face with
complete tenderness.
“Sona, Isa.” He strokes back my hair. “Sona,
sona, sona.”
My cheeks burn, and my heart’s beating so
fast I can barely breathe. Oh, God, I shouldn’t feel like this. The
man holding me is a monster, a sociopath. His every caress should
make want to vomit, not… not…
He pulls away from me, and a sigh breaks
through my lips before I can stop it. Already it feels like I’m
losing a piece of something I never knew was missing. I need his
touch, his approval, his desire, and if he goes away again, I—
I shake my head quickly. That is not a
thought I need to follow.
I’m Melissa Adair Bartlett, damnit. I’m a
free woman, and I can’t let this bastard break me so easily. I have
to be strong. I have to be tough. I have to wrap myself in the very
dream of my independence, and only then will I have the power to go
on.
He takes my leash, and I crawl beside him
while he leads me across the grounds of his estate. My heart
pounds. My body still craves his touch, but my mind… I keep a tight
hold on my thoughts. As long as I control them, they can’t control
me, and in the face of what this bastard has already done to me, I
need every last bit of control I can
Oh, God, I need more.
Strong fingers caress my cunt, and when
something hard slips between my pussy’s open lips, I jerk up in
surprise. What’s going on? I thought I was being good. I
thought—
White Coat pushes my head back into place
before I can even turn around. Whatever he’s doing, it’s clear I
still have a job to do, and he’s not letting me up until every inch
of this bitch’s cunt is sparkling clean.
Well, fine, I can do that. I want to do that.
I lap at Miss Priss’s trembling sex with renewed passion, and
within seconds I have the bitch crooning and gasping beneath that
heavy ball gag. Her back arches, and I go at her harder, faster,
and then…then…
Then the vibrations hit me.
Oh, dear lord, the vibrations.
I’ve heard of vibrators before, but I’ve
never tried one. I’ve never before had the desire. But to feel that
thing inside me now, to feel it pulse and thrust as White Coat
works it in and out of me over and over again.
I gasp.
If this is the praise I get for being good,
then dear Lord, I never want to be bad.
With a hunger I never knew I had, I turn all
my attentions on Miss Priss. I have a job to do, and I want to be
good. I so, so want to be good.
Muffled gasps and moans sift through Miss
Priss’s gag, and the thrill of her pleasure is almost better than
my own. I’m intoxicated. I push myself farther. Every bit of
hesitation, revulsion, and shame is gone as I lose myself inside
this woman’s throbbing pussy.
I’m no longer Adair Bartlett. I’m Isa now.
I’m an animal, and I love it.
She comes not once but three times as I lick
and nibble her inner folds, and I can’t even count the number of
orgasms I experience. When White Coat finally pulls me away, I
struggle for one last taste of the blonde’s juices. I’m still so
hungry, so very hungry, and the taste of her, of this…it’s all
so…so…
His chuckle pulls me back to my senses.
In all the days I’ve spent with White Coat,
I’ve never once heard him laugh. Even a smile from my stoic trainer
is a precious rarity. So when I look up behind me now, it comes as
no surprise to see not White Coat but Master. He pulls the
still-pulsing vibrator from my dripping pussy, and that’s when the
shame hits.
Oh, God, what have I done?
I’ve soiled myself. I’ve done something
hideous, and I liked it. Dear God, I liked it.
I tremble as his hand reaches for my face,
but when I look up at him, there’s no revulsion in his eyes, not
even any ridicule. All I see is the same pride he’s always shown
me. This depravity, it pleases him, and for the life of me I can’t
understand why.
When he holds the soiled vibrator up to my
lips, I lick it clean automatically, and he strokes my face with
complete tenderness.
“Sona, Isa.” He strokes back my hair. “Sona,
sona, sona.”
My cheeks burn, and my heart’s beating so
fast I can barely breathe. Oh, God, I shouldn’t feel like this. The
man holding me is a monster, a sociopath. His every caress should
make want to vomit, not… not…
He pulls away from me, and a sigh breaks
through my lips before I can stop it. Already it feels like I’m
losing a piece of something I never knew was missing. I need his
touch, his approval, his desire, and if he goes away again, I—
I shake my head quickly. That is not a
thought I need to follow.
I’m Melissa Adair Bartlett, damnit. I’m a
free woman, and I can’t let this bastard break me so easily. I have
to be strong. I have to be tough. I have to wrap myself in the very
dream of my independence, and only then will I have the power to go
on.
He takes my leash, and I crawl beside him
while he leads me across the grounds of his estate. My heart
pounds. My body still craves his touch, but my mind… I keep a tight
hold on my thoughts. As long as I control them, they can’t control
me, and in the face of what this bastard has already done to me, I
need every last bit of control I can
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