Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 68525 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 343(@200wpm)___ 274(@250wpm)___ 228(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 68525 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 343(@200wpm)___ 274(@250wpm)___ 228(@300wpm)
Framed by the black silk of his trousers, it seemed darker there, between his thighs, then anywhere else I could imagine. Even the far reaches of space, even at the edge of a black hole, there shone the light of the stars. I took little breaths through my nose as I worked my mouth, trying instinctively to make it feel like it belonged to me despite the strangeness and the ache after what my master’s huge, hard penis had done there. I caught the fragrance in that dark place, and it seemed to make it even darker: the lewd, masculine scent came so strongly from that part of him that it made me feel faint.
But all of those thoughts and feelings went through me in less than a moment, because my master clearly had no intention of delaying whatever pleasure it would provide to do as Mistress Franla had suggested. He turned my head and bent my face down, and he pressed my closed lips against the spot just at the base of his cock.
“Kiss them…” he murmured in that thick voice that sent a shock of need through me all by itself. “Kiss my balls, Wetquim. That’s where my seed is stored… the sperm I’m going to fill you up with.”
I let out a whimper. The teaching tone of these words, the condescension of them, the obviously earnest intention, in the midst of his dominant pleasure, to help me learn about these obscene acts… it went together with the caressing fingers between my thighs and the heat in my backside and the warm, fragrant darkness of the depths of my master’s lap.
I kissed and sobbed. I thought I could sense two roundish things moving inside the wrinkly sack of his lordship’s scrotum. Did they really have his seed in them? How much of it? Would he really… fill me up? Did he mean to make a baby inside me, even if he also used the parts of me where life would not take root?
“Kiss and lick, lick and kiss,” came my mistress’ voice in my ear. “Perhaps your master will come when you do, and you will be allowed to taste his sperm, as he said.”
It all became terribly confused and jumbled in my mind, because all of it together sent me over the edge of my need and my pleasure, and my body began to move without any control except the hands of my master and my mistress. I clutched at the punished globes of my bottom as I swayed back and forth, held up by an arm my mistress had put around my waist to keep me in a position where I could continue to please my master, kissing and licking, licking and kissing his balls. His left hand flashed up and down on his cock, and then he moved my head again, and he opened my mouth with his right hand beneath my chin, and he put only the tip of his penis inside, on my tongue.
I cried out from ecstasy and from surprise, and then I felt the cock jerk and move, as if in answer to the helpless motion of my whole body with my coming. A hot jet spurted into my mouth, and then, with another movement of his manhood, another.
“Swallow it all, Wetquim,” said Mistress Franla. “It is a great honor for you to have your master’s seed inside your body.”
CHAPTER 24
Chalondra
My mistress led me on trembling legs from the study to my master’s sumptuous bedroom.
“You did very well, Chalondra,” she murmured, just before we turned the corner to walk through the double doors that had just opened inward as if by magic. “I know how difficult it was for you, and the night will only become more difficult, but if you remember that you have no choice other than to submit to your master, it will seem easier.”
My mouth felt strange, as if my kneeling service had alienated it from me, as if it no longer belonged to me now that I had tasted my master’s seed and swallowed it in obedience to his command. My jaw ached and my lips felt numb. More dismayingly, my mind seemed to revolt against itself.
The low, confiding tone in Mistress Franla’s voice brought a warmth of involuntary pride to my chest. The spirited part of me, though, which had seemed to raise its head at the same time my mistress had raised me from my knees, tried to push that warmth away, deny it, freeze it.
Still, I followed along behind the older woman’s slow progress, feeling the terrible contrast between her modest gray dress and the damp panties Mistress Franla had made me pull up before she bid me come with her. My eyes remained lowered to the ornate carpet that ran along the corridor, but I could see the hem of my mistress’ dress, and a hint of her elegant if simple shoes as she moved along at a stately, measured pace. The sight of my own bare feet, bare calves, bare knees, sent little blushes into my cheeks with practically every step.