Complete Erotica Anthology: Plugged, Stretched, and Filled (Erotica Variety Pack - BDSM, Spanking, Well Hung... Book 2)

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Complete Erotica Anthology: Plugged, Stretched, and Filled (Erotica Variety Pack - BDSM, Spanking, Well Hung... Book 2) Page 61

by Lily Love


  He slid another finger inside.

  I could feel my chest straining against the leather as my back attempted to arch.

  Electric surged through my body as I felt his fingers pick up speed.

  He knew exactly where my spot was, and he wasn’t going to hit it until I was ready. I knew that much.

  My toes curled as I felt his other thumb press inside my anus.

  Master gritted his teeth and stared me. “Cum for me slave. Cum for me now!”

  His finger hit my spot just inside my opening.

  Little black stars swam in my vision as I jerked violently against the bindings.

  I opened my mouth to scream, but couldn’t. The ecstasy took away my breath.

  “Don’t stop until I tell you to.”

  The pleasure kept increasing until I couldn’t take it anymore. I was stuck.

  His fingers didn’t stop moving. They kept spinning around in circles on my spot.

  Master’s thumb went deeper into my anus. He knew where that spot was too.

  I felt my legs straighten and buck against the leather as I came.

  Biting down hard on the fabric was my only release from the intense orgasm. I fought to stay conscious.

  “How about… this?” Master said as he pressed his fingers deeper and curled them upwards.

  I could feel his thumb curling inside my anus putting pressure on my other spot. My hips went wild and out of control. I couldn’t stop myself.

  Pain shot through my body as I jerked against the leather on my legs and chest.

  Master’s hand stopped for a mere second – it was over.

  Immediately his fingers went full force inside me, wildly thrusting back and forth.

  I breathed in and deeply and cursed in my mind as my body convulsed in sheer pleasure.

  Everything seemed to slow in time for a mere moment as I felt the shockwaves of ecstasy come in pulses. My walls tightened and released with each motion of his hands.

  Men and woman stood around, watching and pointing. Slaves were made to sit and wait. I was the spectacle of the night. I was their entertainment… but I was his slave.

  I felt every hair on my body stand on end as the room spun around me. Fading in and out of consciousness, I could no longer tell minutes from hours – I only knew he didn’t stop, and neither did my body.

  “You may stop.”

  His words were clear even though the room was still pounding with music.

  Our eyes met.

  I only saw him. He was the only one in the room, everything else just faded away.

  Every muscle went slack against the table.

  Lying there catching my breath, I felt him enter me.

  His thick shaft slid inside my slick opening. I could feel each drip of sweat slide down my face as my body jerked back and forth on the table.

  I couldn’t cum again… I just couldn’t.

  Please don’t make me cum again, I begged in my head. Please…

  “Cum on my cock.”

  He said it, but my body felt lifeless.

  Every bit of pleasure had been removed. Nothing remained, not even the slightest sliver.

  Master pulled out his cock and went down to his knees.

  His tongue slid up my opening and twisted around my clit.

  I felt that.

  My body shook once… twice, with each stroke.

  “There you go… come back to me,” he said softly as his hands gripped tightly onto my hips.

  His tongue slid inside and curled upwards.

  I felt him touch my sore spot. There was life.

  My hips jerked against the restraints. Pain shot through my body from the raw skin against each point.

  I opened my eyes wide with adrenaline.

  “Yes. Good girl.”

  I felt everything.

  His cock pressed back inside as he held tightly onto my hips and thrusted. My opening tightened in response.

  The tightly bound spring suddenly released within me.

  Master cursed in whispers as I felt my body convulsing with orgasm. Shockwaves of slammed up through my chest as waves of fire emanated from between my legs.

  I felt his dick tighten and begin pumping within me. Each spurt from his cock edged me further over the edge of my orgasm.

  “Yes… I want to feel you fucking cum on my cock,” he groaned through his teeth.

  My eyes locked with his as we both came together.

  He collapsed over me, panting and out of breath.

  “God… damn.”

  Master’s words brought a smile to my face. I couldn’t help it.

  The crowd of viewers moved on, leaving us to ourselves.

  I could feel my face burning with embarrassment. Never in my life would I have thought I would be fucking or cumming in front of a group of people.

  My eyes drifted towards a woman within a cage being lowered into a large container of water. She was completely in her master’s hands. There was no doubt of her trust in her master.

  He looked down at me and ran his fingers over my nipples.

  Music began to die down as did the screams of ecstasy and pain.

  “Shall we?”

  I nodded to Master.

  My jaw relaxed as he unclasped the gag.

  Two men walked over and looked me up and down then over to Master.

  “Beautiful slave you have there. What’s its name?”

  Master looked over, “Joanne.”

  The man put his hands on his hips, “That’s interesting. You named your slave.”

  My hands and legs were untied. I stretched crawled to the floor. He tightened the leash around his hand.

  “I did name my slave because she deserves a name. She is mine, always will be mine and will always serve me.”

  Both men appeared angry as they spoke again, “Slaves need not have names.

  Master tugged on my collar. “Come slave.”

  “Yes, Master.” I said without hesitation as I crawled after him on the floor.

  The men continued to stare at us as we headed towards the elevator.

  I felt a chill down my spine as my eyes locked with one of the men. They were seething with anger. I could just sense it.

  The chain jerked firmly as we stepped onto the elevator.

  CHAPTER FOUR: FIGHT FOR SURVIVAL

  I climbed into the car. Richard released my collar and handed me a bottle of water.

  “Thank you,” I whispered. He smiled and shut the car door.

  The moon was high in the sky, giving everything a light white tone.

  I watched as Richard walked to the front of the car.

  Both men from earlier emerged out of the front of the building. There were no other people around.

  Everything was in slow motion as I watched the scene unfold.

  The man on the left pulled out a gun and began firing. I heard the sound of shattering glass and screaming.

  Richard ran around and climbed into the driver’s seat as I heard shots ricochet off the front of the car.

  “Get down!” He yelled as both men were nearly to the car.

  The second man pulled out a crowbar and slammed it into the window, shattering and sending glass everywhere.

  Richard slammed on the gas and hit the man with the gun, sending him flying to the ground.

  More gunshots into the car as the second man pulled out a gun and began firing.

  I looked over at Richard. He was bleeding profusely from his chest.

  We sped out of the parking lot like a bat out of hell.

  “Fuck, fuck, fuck! What the hell is wrong with those people?!” Richard exclaimed as he held his hand against his wound.

  Grabbing a shirt from the backseat I placed it on his chest and held it tightly.

  “What do we do now?” I said.

  Richard’s eyes rolled back in his head as he slumped forward on the wheel.

  I wrapped my fingers around it and let the car come to a stop on the highway.

 
Shit.

  Everything was dead silent as I sat there. The car crept forward.

  I didn’t know how to work it. Nobody ever taught me how to drive.

  “Richard! Wake up!”

  My hands grasped his shirt and shook him.

  Nothing.

  I heard a familiar sound. A siren.

  Two men walked up to the side of the car and looked inside. “Is everythin— jesus.”

  He held his phone up to his ear. “We need an ambulance on route 114 quickly.”

  Both men pulled Richard out of the car. I could feel tears running down my face.

  “Is he going to be ok?” I said as I ran around the car to the men.

  They didn’t reply.

  Minutes felt like hours as I sat there next to Richard.

  “Alright, let’s get him inside,” the man said as he picked him up and put him inside the ambulance.

  I climbed inside and sat next to Richard with his hand in mine.

  We flew down the road as several men and woman took off Richard’s clothes and examined the wound. I held tightly onto my leash and fought back tears.

  It seemed like the most pain Master ever put me through was physical, but this was different. He trained my body and mind to withstand nearly anything – but nothing could compare or even come close to this.

  His hand was in mine as we sat there. No words were spoken. He couldn’t with all the tubes down his throat.

  I laid the leash in his hand and curled up next to him.

  Darkness surrounded me as my sore body drifted into darkness.

  His Massive Girth

  Stretched Me

  It was just another November outside the city, fairly poor on spare-time choices, but rainy and gray. Right between sudden showers, Carrie decided to move towards the mail box and send a letter she’d never be replied to. For years so far she tried to solve the mystery of her origins, writing to a father figure that did not seem too realistic. Sometimes, at night, before she reached the happiness of an undisturbed dream, she realized it might be just a story. Over and over again she moved forward from her blindness, but believed the story already at dawn. That is simply how life functioned in her small village-she had to hold on something!

  For most of her life, Carrie had fought misery and despair, as her mother died when she had been only 14. Staying alive had turned into a priority, as life was not a gift from God, but an engine that you have to push ahead constantly. Numerous have been her sufferings, from basic needs to loneliness, as she grew without education and cleaned around the clock to afford a living.

  “What a pity for the cute face!”, neighbors thought.

  But she accepted no compassion. As hungry as her family had been, pride was always the main dish on their table.

  What helped her move on, was that small spark of hope beating in her chest. One day, she thought. One day the mysterious gentleman, collate with a suit and tie, will enter without knocking, clear his throat from tears and hug her. Not a happy ending, a happy beginning, she smiled.

  As infantile as it was to believe, she did. The child inside never left, even when her body seemed a worn out costume, with a dose of sadness on every curve. Hope was still there- in her navy blue eyes, and in moments of complete disorder one would clearly see how beautiful she actually was.

  What Carrie never knew was the partial genuineness behind her mother’s story. The father did exist, and he used to be the classy gentleman she pictured in her mind. A serious man involved in even more serious business, making more money than she and her mother would ever need. In his best years, he was even tall, blondish, and besides the suit and the tie he bore a lot that could identify Carryieas his child. She somehow knew she would recognize him, as the dark tan and curvy, chestnut like hair of her mum was nothing like herself. How proud would he be to meet her, she thought.

  The question though, was if he shared a soul, good as hers.

  “He had to work”, her mother used to justify him. But why did he never come back? For a day, even just for an hour? For a hug, or a small talk, not for the money? In the depth of her soul, she imagined life around parents as more valuable than any material wealth.

  Good or foul, her father had left because he was not brave enough. The lack of bravery cost him what ought to be the real fortune of a lifetime-peace and a happy family. So many years had passed and he never chose to meet her-it was difficult to estimate if he would ever decide to do it, as for him…there might be no sense. His address, potentially non-existent, remained far from any road she could possibly take.

  But there was no time to be desperate. She rushed towards the nearest mailbox, knowing that her languished mind could easily drown her in a whirlpool. She was not afraid to get wet. Her biggest concern was not to ruin the peacefulness of her reflection, seeming so realistic stirred within purple clouds. What a perfect mix of sad and sad!

  “You need a man girl. Strong man to erase those 20 additional years you wear on your face!”, she remembered lady Andersen’s words. But sharing a bed was not on her list, until reestablishing faith in men kind.

  I

  “It’s my fault. Only my fault!”

  She felt incredibly angry at herself, as a quick rain splash reminded her that it was time to let go of all thoughts and move back home. How crazy that must have looked! A soaked woman in front of a mailbox, waiting for a miracle.

  “You know, they say some people enjoy the rain”.

  She trembled, as a charming, male voice interrupted the silence. As she turned, her entire body bristled, as if she already knew what she was about to see. A gorgeous, young man. A suit and a tie, wrapped nicely in a one-man’s package, obviously positioned in an elegant, furious car.

  I’m Anthony Simons. The guy who simply gets wet on the rain.

  She stood speechless, with thousands of thoughts she could not convert into appropriate sentences.

  “Oh, I am sorry if I stressed you. I didn’t mean to do that, I… I just wanted to help.”

  “Thank you. Thanks. I better get going.”

  “But you’re certainly not gonna walk miss, I am not letting you do that!.”

  “Thanks, but I…”

  “Please, he jumped off the car and opened the passenger’s door. I will drop you off.”

  Then, she did what she never thought she would do. She moved slowly towards the door, without making a single statement. With a blink, she noticed even he, who appeared to be the most self-confident person in the world, stood in disbelief.

  Jumping into a stranger’s car was not the feature of a decent girl, especially such that knows little about relationships. This might be the door to hell, but at the same time, the door to heaven.

  Complying with the silence, he sat and drove off. As unpleasant as it seemed, the air between them smelled like something good. Like something really promising.

  “Put your belt, rain princess.”

  He turned towards her and smiled. What could possibly be wrong with such a perfect man? Maybe the fact that it was too good to be true. Carrie was aware of her beauty and often rolled eyes as boys called out on her. But for such a man to notice her…she could not understand.

  Anthony was the accomplishment of every young girl’s dream-a tall, handsome man, moving his slightly tanned body with the grace of a middle-age knight. He did look as the knight of his century, dressed very elegantly and spreading one of those scents a woman never forgets. His hair was fairly dark, formally slicked back to reveal a wonderful, freshly shaved face. She wished to see her own expression in those large eyes of his, as his equally large smile enlightened the dark afternoon. The perfect couple they could form! The wonderful children they could have!

  The more she thought about it, the more nervous she became. She constantly changed the position of her legs and her trembling fingers played with the nasty lock on her forehead. And he seemed to be having fun, observing her.

  “Are you going to ignore me all the way? Besides…where are we going
?”

  “I..I don’t know.”

  The very same moment he laughed and looked at her, as if she was a confused child.

  “Ok, I’ll try to guess where you live.”

  “Oh, sorry. I’m just not used to do this.”

  “You’re not used to go home? That’s even better miss, I have the afternoon free. We can plan something and get to know each other better.”

  Suddenly, she remembered that for her, this was a working afternoon. Lady Anderson needed help for her family dinner and she relied completely on her appearing. Indeed, there was a life outside the fancy car too. But, somehow…she wanted to take advantage of the moment until it lasted. It would be really nice if she could spare the details of her domestic work experience.

  “So, choose a place. I’m in for anything.”

  “I..I think the best thing for me is to go home. Please turn left on the next crossroad.”

  “I will. I just wish you could tell me your name.”

  “It’s Carrie.”

  “Nice to meet you, rain princess Carrie.”

  She smiled. In a matter of minutes, she gained confidence into a complete stranger.

  A moment of silence followed as he slowly drove down her street. She didn’t want him to see the old, impaired house she inherited, so she interrupted him few meters ahead: “This is it. Thank you Anthony.”

  “Could I..see you again sometime?”

  “I really don’t think that is a good idea.”

  She closed the door as fast as she could and ran away. Was that luck finally knocking on her door? She did not know that, but for what she knew, it was a very typical thing for her to do-escaping from happiness, as far as possible.

  The truth was, she was kind of ashamed. Stay modest, her mom used to say. A man spreads his legs as far as his rug allows it. What would she do with a rich businessman? He is probably surrounded by elegant women, whom jewelry suits perfectly, and so do smart conversations. But she…she was just an ignorant, province girl, whom he wanted to disgrace.

  At the same moment, Anthony texted an unsaved number on his phone.

  “I found her. She is just as shy as you thought. I’m proceeding tomorrow.”

 

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