Chapter 16
Hendren
I watched from my embassy study, my fascination growing at nearly the same rate at which my own cock lengthened along my thigh, as Colonel Quinst positioned his manhood—which I had to admit to be the equal of mine—at the opening to Viola’s lovely, bare cunt.
The high-definition feed captured every detail with exquisite clarity—my fuck toy’s face flushed with desperate need, her dark eyes wide with that beautifully balanced mixture of shame and hunger that never failed to arouse me.
The colonel’s military precision seemed to extend even to this intimate moment. He held himself perfectly still, the swollen head of his cock just barely breaching her slick folds, forcing her to feel the tremendous girth of his erection without giving her the satisfaction of being filled.
“Tell your Guardian exactly what you need,” he commanded, his voice carrying the same authority I had heard him use with subordinates during our embassy meetings.
“Please,” Viola gasped, her bound wrists pulling vainly at the restraints as she tried to force herself down onto his shaft. “Please… I… please…”
On the video stream, I could see the conflict in her eyes as she looked into the colonel’s face.
He didn’t have to issue a command: he knew that Viola, former president of a planet, knew exactly how shamefully she needed to submit to get what she needed so very badly.
Her words came out in a sob of humiliation.
“Please… please f-fuck me, Guardian. I… I need your cock in… inside me. So… so much.” Her eyes widened, because the colonel hadn’t moved, and I watched the understanding dawn in her eyes: she needed to say one more mortifying thing.
Her voice fell to a girlish whisper, which then rose to an urgent plea.
“In my… my little cunny. Please fuck my little cunny, Guardian.”
The desperate pleading in her voice sent satisfaction coursing through me.
When I had first claimed her, she had fought every moment of pleasure, every sign of submission.
Now she begged strangers to use her body, her political composure completely shattered by weeks of systematic training until her true nature had at last started to emerge.
Colonel Quinst began to enter her with agonizing slowness, his thick shaft stretching her sheath inch by devastating inch.
I leaned forward in my chair, my own arousal building as I watched my concubine’s face transform with each moment of penetration.
Her mouth fell open in a perfect ‘O’ of sensation, her eyes rolling back as he filled her completely.
“Magnificent,” I murmured to the empty room, one hand moving to adjust my hardening cock through my formal trousers.
The sight of Viola being claimed by another man while Betty watched with obvious arousal created exactly the sort of tableau I had envisioned when I’d arranged for her Academy training.
When the colonel finally seated himself fully inside her, Viola’s entire body shuddered with what appeared to be another climax. The data from her governor confirmed it—her arousal readings spiked to maximum levels as her cunt clenched around the thick intrusion.
“Such a responsive little whore,” Colonel Quinst observed with evident satisfaction, his hands gripping her hips to hold her steady. “No wonder His Royal Highness is so pleased with his acquisition.”
He began to move then, lifting her easily on his shaft before letting her slide back down with controlled force.
The position allowed him complete dominance while ensuring she felt every inch of his possession.
Viola’s cries of pleasure echoed through the bedroom, each sound a testament to how thoroughly her resistance had been broken.
Betty moved to kneel beside them, her hands roaming over Viola’s restrained form with possessive appreciation. “Look how beautifully she takes you, darling,” she murmured to her husband. “The Academy’s methods have prepared her perfectly.”
Viola
The colonel’s rhythm intensified, each thrust driving deeper into my yielding body as Betty’s hands explored my bound form with increasing boldness.
I felt utterly consumed by sensation—the thick shaft claiming me so completely, my Mistress’s knowing touch, the shameful knowledge that my responses were being monitored and transmitted to my master.
“Please,” I gasped. It seemed my only word—my only thought. The overwhelming fullness, the way my body had to stretch to accommodate my Guardian’s massive cock, sent the pleasure and the shame rippling through my nervous system in equal measure.
“She’s close again,” Betty observed, her fingers finding my swollen nipples and rolling them between her thumbs. “Look at how her little cunny grips you, John. She’s going to come all over your cock.”
The crude assessment of my body’s responses sent another thrill of electric heat flooding through me. I could feel the telltale tightening in my core, the way my inner walls clenched around the colonel’s invading shaft as he drove into me with relentless precision.
“Not yet,” he commanded, his hands tightening on my hips to still my desperate movements. “You’ll wait for permission, just as you did with your Mistress.”
The denial made me sob with frustration, my body trembling with the effort of holding back the climax that threatened to tear me in two. Colonel Quinst held himself buried deep inside me, his cock pulsing against my inner walls so urgently that I had to bite my lip to keep from screaming.
“Tell me who you belong to,” he ordered, his eyes gazing into mine with predatory intensity.
“Prince Hendren,” I whispered, my voice breaking with need. “I belong to Prince Hendren.”
“And while you’re here?”
“You, Guardian. I belong to you and Mistress Quinst.”
“Good girl,” Betty murmured, her lips finding my throat as her husband resumed his devastating rhythm. “Such a quick learner.”
“Enough,” Colonel Quinst said suddenly, his voice cutting through my desperate whimpers.
To my shock and dismay, he withdrew from me completely, leaving me empty and aching with unfulfilled need.
His thick shaft, glistening with my arousal, stood proudly erect as he moved away from my trembling form.
“John?” Betty asked, confusion evident in her voice as she looked between her husband and my writhing, bound body.
“Turn her over, Betty,” he commanded with military precision. “On her knees. I want her bottom prepared for fucking.”
The words sent a bolt of terror and shameful anticipation straight through my core.
I sobbed as Betty’s hands guided me onto my stomach, my bound wrists twisted awkwardly above my head as she positioned me with my knees drawn up beneath me.
The position thrust my bottom high into the air, completely available for the colonel’s pleasure.
“Please, Guardian,” I whimpered into the bedsheets, my voice muffled and desperate. “I need… I need you back inside me… inside my… my cunny. Please don’t…”
“Hush,” Betty said softly, her maternal tone somehow making everything worse as her hands traced the curves of my upturned bottom. “Your Guardian knows exactly what you need, dear. Trust him to give it to you properly.”
I felt her reach for something on the bedside table, and my stomach clenched with dread as I heard the soft sound of a cap being opened. The cool touch of lubricant against that most private entrance made me jerk against the restraints with a strangled cry.
“Hold still,” Betty commanded gently, her finger beginning to work the slick substance into my tight ring. “You’ve taken your master this way. You know you have.”
But I couldn’t relax. The shame of being prepared so intimately by another woman while her husband watched, the knowledge that my master was likely observing every moment of my degradation, the memory of how it had felt when Prince Hendren had claimed me there—all combined to leave me trembling and sobbing into the sheets.
“She’s fighting it,” Colonel Quinst observed clinically. “Add another finger, Betty. She needs to be opened properly.”
I cried out as my Mistress obeyed her husband, working a second lubricated finger into my resistant passage with patient persistence. The burning stretch made my entire body tense, but Betty’s free hand stroked my lower back in soothing circles.
“There’s a good girl,” she murmured as my body gradually began to accept the intrusion. “You’re learning to yield so beautifully. Your Guardian is going to be so pleased with how well you take him. This little flower will grip the colonel’s cock like a velvet rose.”
The strange image seemed so true and somehow so beautiful in its obscenity that it drew a long, low moan from me.
To my mortification and at the same time my relief, I felt myself start to relax the muscles there.
Then, much more distressingly to the sense of modesty it seemed I still possessed, I felt myself pushing, opening my bottom in that shameful way that belonged to a different, darker bodily function. My moan became a sob.
The shameful response of my body to Betty’s preparation sent fresh heat into my cheeks.
I could feel myself opening for her fingers, my bottom learning to accept the invasion with the same terrible eagerness my sex had shown for masculine dominance—indeed with more obedience than I had shown His Royal Highness.
“Perfect,” Colonel Quinst said with evident satisfaction. “That bottom is ready for fucking now, Betty. Move aside.”
I felt the mattress shift as he positioned himself behind me, his large hands gripping my hips with possessive authority.
The thick head of his cock pressed against the prepared, but still tiny, dimple of my bottom hole, and I whimpered into the sheets as I felt the tremendous pressure of his invasion beginning.
“Look at me, Viola,” Betty commanded, settling herself cross-legged on the bed so she could see my face. “I want to watch a president’s expression as my husband takes her sweet little bottom.”