Shamefully Mastered – Bound For Service Read Online Emily Tilton

Categories Genre: Alpha Male Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 63
Estimated words: 57296 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 286(@200wpm)___ 229(@250wpm)___ 191(@300wpm)
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“Oh, no,” I whispered, unable to control my mouth, hoping as I spoke that the bad man would think I was simply afraid of the unknown next thing, or that I had guessed what he meant to do with me. “Oh, no… no.”

Ivan shifted me in his arms, carrying me like a little child with his left arm under my knees and his right around my back, behind my bound arms. It felt, to my dismay, much too good. I could have stayed in my master’s arms forever; I wanted nothing more than that.

No… you want to want nothing more than that.

I let out a sob from deep in my chest when Ivan stopped, and I felt him stretch his arms forward, with me held inside them. He tilted me further forward.

“No,” I whispered, another surge of fear thrilling through my chest at the possibility that Belkonov would realize I could understand him.

But he saved me from that anxiety. He spoke in his mocking voice.

“Time for a little ride, fuck toy. You’re going to come so hard with my cock in your sweet asshole that you might not even notice when I bring my men here to use you.”

I shook my head, feeling again the strangeness of the hood, the way it seemed to make me an object even to myself.

“No, please,” I begged. I struggled in Ivan’s grip.

“Stop squirming,” my master commanded in a hard voice that sent a shiver down my spine. The compliance wand’s operation did the rest: I went limp as I felt my feet touch the back of the wooden horse. I remembered how garishly painted it was, from my one brief look at it, like a carousel horse with an obscene black device rising from its back. I remembered the enormous size of the dildo, the way the veins carved in it stood out, the way its fluted head jutted menacingly toward the ceiling.

What I hadn’t seen was how the lewd toy operated, but I felt the back move a bit, sliding under my feet, and I understood. The detached dildo stayed fixed as the horse, and its rider, moved.

“Oh… oh, no,” I kept murmuring, as Ivan lowered me, guiding my feet to either side of the rocking horse’s leather saddle. “Oh, no.”

I let out a little cry as I felt the head of the dildo push up against my pussy.

“Put your hands down and spread your cunt open,” Belkonov said. “You’re going to take the horse’s cock all the way, and you’re going to like it.”

I had my lower lip between my teeth. I heard little sounds of submission and shame coming from my throat, and I felt myself shaking my head back and forth. I couldn’t disobey, despite the waves of degradation that swept through me.

Because of those waves—because of the way they made me burn, all over but most terribly between my thighs, as I stretched my restrained arms, my hands, my fingers downward. They touched my whipped bottom, and I gave a little cry, whose humiliating ambiguity made my cheeks flare with heat under the hood. They touched between, finding my pussy lips… the outer ones, themselves much too sensitive from the knout’s terrible lashes, and then the inner ones that guarded the entrance to the aching sheath… the hole where the bad man wanted to make me take the hard rubber thing.

I moaned. I wanted to stop the sound, keep it in my chest, because they hadn’t ordered me to moan. I didn’t have to show my master’s enemy how terribly needy his twisted toy had made me. So needy that the merest touch of my fingertips down there, the feeling that I had to spread myself open for Belkonov’s dildo, sent a gush of my arousal flowing from my vagina onto my fingers and—I could even feel—onto the head of the jet-black artificial penis.

“Such a whore,” the asshole said in his own language, the one I couldn’t show I understood. “Look how she needs it, how she gets it ready for her cunt. Is she tight?”

My master answered in English. I felt certain, in my few remaining detached, rational thoughts, that he chose his language so that I wouldn’t have to worry about responding to what his enemy had said. It felt, in my body, though, as if Ivan meant to make certain my obscene degradation went as deep as he could possibly make it go.

“The cunt is pretty tight. The anus is still a good deal tighter though.”

Then, even as I gasped with the humiliation of Ivan’s words, he urged me downward, and I cried out in discomfort, as wet as I had gotten at their brutal treatment. The enormous rubber phallus seemed to fill my pussy so completely that I feared for a moment it might split me in two.



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