Chapter 4 #2
I bite my cheek to keep from crying out. He’s so big, so hard, and he goes all the way in with a single, devastating stroke.
My ass is well-trained, but he is truly enormous.
I pull in a breath and do my best to relax so I can take him without tearing.
Not that the Masters and Mistresses ever care if we tear, and we are always well-cared for after, if we need it.
But I want him inside me for as long as possible.
If my ass can comfort him from his bad dreams, then I will have done my duty.
He presses deeper, slides out, then rams his giant cock into me once more.
Ah, yes… Thank you, my Master.
He says something to Master Erek in French—I am too far gone to decipher it—and Master Erek pulls my legs up higher so that I am bent nearly in half.
Then Master Séverin shoves his fingers back into my pussy, filling me up.
Another finger, then another, and in moments his whole fist is pushing inside my cunt.
I don’t know that I can take it all, with his cock filling my ass.
The pressure is unbelievable. But I want it.
It feels so good, and the pain is terrible, and I am dizzy with need and that budding adoration that always happens when someone is really hurting me.
It feels as if my entire body is being fucked.
I blink in the glare of the sunlight pouring through the curtains and glance up at his face—I don’t know why I dare to do this.
And in that moment Master Séverin looks down at me, locking his dark gaze to mine.
His eyes are so hard, so thoroughly shadowed. I can see the pain there.
I wait for him to slap my face for daring to look at him, but he simply stares at me, his face twisting with pleasure as he comes into my ass. And I am overcome with sensation, with a need I can’t describe even to myself. Not simply to come—it’s more than that—but oh, yes, to come.
Then I’m coming and coming, my body arching off the bench as Master Séverin continues to fist me, my pussy spasming around his hand. And he’s watching me, his eyes intense as I blink over and over, as I try to catch my breath.
“Again,” he commands, this time pulling his hand from me, then going back in with maybe two fingers and curling them against my g-spot.
“Yes, Sev,” comes Master Erek’s voice, thick with desire. “Make our pretty Girl do it.”
Master Séverin fucks me hard and fast while Master Erek presses down on my abdomen, and the two of them lean in over my body to kiss each other.
The pressure builds inside me, carrying me higher and higher, and soon I’m squirting, liquid gushing from my cunt, the sensation drawing a long groan from me.
“Again,” Master Séverin repeats as he keeps working my g-spot.
He is merciless, but that’s exactly what I crave. And as he works my sore cunt, the pressure spiraling once more, he and Master Erek kiss again, their mouths pressed together over my prone body.
And God, it’s the hottest thing I’ve ever seen, maybe because Master Séverin is the most relentlessly stern human being I’ve ever seen. In moments I’m squirting and groaning again, soaking the bench and Master Séverin’s hand.
Master Erek pulls back, laughing. “Yes, Sev. Christ, that’s good. Fuck the Girl up, my love.”
He begins again, fucking me hard, his fingers curled against my swelling g-spot, and in moments liquid floods from my cunt as the two of them grin over me.
Master Erek leans in and bites my cheek hard.
“So fucking beautiful,” he says, his voice quiet, as though telling me a secret.
My head is spinning. Squirting always does that to me.
“Get her cleaned up,” Master Séverin says, pulling his hand from my body and straightening. “I don’t suppose you know how to cook, Girl? You may answer me.”
“Yes, Master. I can cook.”
He nods his head sharply, then he’s gone.
Master Erek helps me to my feet, catching me when I stumble. He leads me into the bathroom and turns on the shower.
“Get cleaned up. Can you stand now on your own, Girl? Tell me yes or no.”
Why do I want to lie? To keep him there with me a little longer? But I can’t do it.
“Yes, Master. I can stand.”
“You are to shower, wash your hair, dry yourself, then come to the kitchen. Get some water from the cup by the sink—a full glass, at least, and add the hydration pack on the counter. You will be on your knees in our presence unless we have you walking.”
I don’t answer. I know not to. There is no need to acknowledge an order that will simply be obeyed.
He walks from the room, and I fill up the glass and drink, knowing I need it, before stepping into the shower.
As the warm water falls over my skin, I try to figure out what’s going on with me.
My endless curiosity about these two Masters.
My fascination with their obvious love for each other.
My preoccupation with Master Séverin’s nightmare last night.
But my mind and my body are still buzzing with coming and squirting.
With pleasure and pain. With that wicked combination of the two that is my absolute kryptonite.
It’s too hard to think. And I am not supposed to, am I?
This inability to completely turn off my brain has always made me feel like a failure as a slave.
No one knows but me, but no one else has to. I understand my own failings.
I am very much afraid that these two Masters might be my complete undoing, they make me think so much.
Shut up, shut up.
But my brain has a mind of its own.
Ha!
Thank God no one can hear me think but me.