Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 80699 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 403(@200wpm)___ 323(@250wpm)___ 269(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80699 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 403(@200wpm)___ 323(@250wpm)___ 269(@300wpm)
Much, much worse, I suddenly needed to pee so bad it made me whimper. I went from my terribly aroused clench to a different kind: a desperate contraction of my muscles to control my bladder.
Christian’s eyes flicked up to mine, and I saw him understand, yet again, precisely what I needed.
“Do you have to go now, Rebel?” he asked.
I bit my lip and nodded, another submissive little sound escaping my throat.
“I’ll let you go in a moment,” he replied, a smile on his lips but, in his eyes, a very different expression: a wolfish hunger that sent a thrill of fear up and down my spine.
“What?” I whispered. I had never imagined that he would, that he could deny me the fulfillment of such a primal urge. I should have known, though, part of me realized, off in space. So much of my keeper’s discipline involved exactly that kind of denial.
“You have something to do, first,” Christian said, twisting the cap back on the little bottle with the red stripe around it. He reached his hand over me to put it into the cabinet in the headboard.
My headboard, I had to remind myself, because it definitely didn’t feel like any part of the bed, or of the apartment, belonged to me. The jolt of arousal that thought sent through my body made me feel even less attached to my body: some version of me lay spread and strapped down to the bed that belonged to my master even though I slept in it while another version hovered on a different dimension, watching and…
I felt my forehead crease.
And enjoying. Enjoying it: the voyage to outer space and the story of the girl whose sponsor sealed her pussy up for her, so that she could learn her lesson.
I noticed distantly that Christian had gotten off the bed, had disappeared into the bathroom, had returned with a towel. It all seemed to happen at the very same time, like a movie whose individual moments had somehow gotten superimposed on one another: suddenly, it seemed to my hovering self, the mouth-wateringly gorgeous naked man with the enormous hard cock had started to put a folded towel under my backside.
“Oh, no,” I whispered as the reason for the towel belatedly made its way into my mind.
“Just in case,” Christian said.
He doesn’t want to make me sleep on a soaking mattress, at least, thought an irrationally, insanely grateful part of my brain. He’s basically kind, just like I always imagined.
He got off the bed, and I watched him walk back around it, wondering desperately what he meant to do. He stood looking down at me, framed in the light coming from the bathroom door, his hardness in his left hand, stroking it gently. A new, hot blush rose to my cheeks, and at the same time my bladder cried out so urgently for release that I let out a sob as I clamped down, my backside squirming shamefully with the effort.
The sob drew itself out, to my dismay, because the erotic power of this utterly degrading moment suddenly showed itself to me. I had no idea how the panicky, uncomfortable feeling of having to hold my pee in could call up such a wave of wanton need in my pussy, but the need for sexual release as well as the relief of my bladder sent a shudder through my whole body.
“Hold it in as long as you can, Rebel,” Christian told me, as he put his right knee on the bed to climb up again, and I suddenly understood what he had meant about having something to do. “But the towel is there if you need to go.”
“Oh, God… please… sir,” I whispered. “Please… not like this?”
But Christian had gotten fully on the bed already, and he had started knee-walking toward my face. He reached his hand out to stroke my cheek.
“Yes, Leah,” he murmured, turning my face so that he could aim his huge cock directly at my lips. “Just like this. Open your mouth. I’m going to train you a little, and come on your face. Then I’ll let you go to the toilet.”
CHAPTER 29
Leah
I felt torn between gratitude that my sponsor always told me precisely what to expect and abject humiliation at the obscene plan he had just laid out. The very idea, though, that I might feel thankful that Christian had just told me all that… that he intended to put his rigid penis in my mouth, then to spurt his seed onto my face, all the while apparently not caring at all whether I helplessly peed… wet myself out the little hole he had left me in my sealed labia… onto the towel he had placed there for the purpose…
The remaining, detached, rational part of my mind gave up on calling it crazy to feel gratitude for my sponsor informing me of his degrading intentions. By this point, it just seemed like the unfortunate consequence of my ingrained needs.