New Sexcretary (Fertile Pleasures Book 2)

by Nadia Nightside

  All that was left now was serving at her Master’s pleasure, and hopefully being fucked so full of his cum that she never stopped having his babies.

  She hung up, sighing contentedly, cutting off Mark’s protestations. Immediately, he called her again, and she put the phone on silent. Eventually, he would understand. Or rather, he would quit trying.

  No one could understand, not really. No one could understand what it was to serve unless they too served.

  Thumping sounds resounded through the empty, echoing apartment. Knocks at the door. It was open, and the person knocking let himself in.

  It was Coleman. She struggled to remember how she had known him. Some dim part of her brain said that he had been her boyfriend, but of course that was the silliest thing in the world. She had never had a boyfriend before Master.

  Now Master was every male to her—her boyfriend, her brother, her Daddy, her Sir, her Husband, her lover. The notion of ever having another male in her life at all was disconcerting. The concept of having another boyfriend was abhorrent, like she had spilled crude oil all over her hands.

  “Francesca, thank god,” said Coleman. “I’ve been looking for you. And you are...you are very naked.”

  She had packed nude so that she might more thoroughly obey her Master’s directions. He had told her to pack up everything, after all. That included her clothes.

  “Yes,” she said. Her voice was soft, supple, but cold. “You shouldn’t look at me like that. I am not for your consumption.”

  “Not for my...consumption?” He took a look around. “You just moved in a few weeks ago. Are you moving already?” He walked over to a box and slapped it. It thunked heavily, the contents dense. “I would have helped you, you know. You’re really not going to put on clothes?”

  What she wanted to say was that her Master did not require her to have clothes at that time.

  But that was off-limits. Others could not know about his perfect plan for her. She had to wait. She had to be...careful. Her Master’s strength relied on discretion.

  “I do not want to put on clothes.” Her tone was robotic, empty. This being—the thought of actually calling him a “male” at all was sickening to her—did not deserve the vibrancy of warmth that her beautiful form could exert. And so even though he looked at her naked body, nothing about her posture, her body language, or her expression was even remotely sexual.

  “Baby, come on. I know something’s upset you.” He grabbed her arm. “Why don’t we sit down and talk about—”

  Deftly, she maneuvered out from his grip. If he tried to grab her again, she would break his arm. After the police arrived, she would start crying and point fingers at him, expressing confusion as to why all her things were boxed up, why she was naked, and how he had gotten into her apartment. No one really knew they were dating; she didn’t know any of his friends. She could frame him for any number of crimes; Master had several lawyers on retainer, all of them beautiful women devoted only to servicing his cock and studying law.

  “I do not require any discussion with you. You should leave.”

  “Leave?” He scoffed. “Francesca, baby, you’re being really weird. I gotta say, I’m not digging it. You ought to—”

  “Your dick is too small.”

  He looked stunned, frozen in her headlights. “W-what?”

  “Your dick is too small, and you are inadequate as a lover. When you insisted on masturbating in front of me, I got a good sense of its size. That was as close as I ever wanted you to be to me. I wasn’t unsure or scared. I simply didn’t want to. I’m not a virgin.” She was, of course. She was simply saying the meanest things she could think of. Master would like that. “I’ve fucked lots of guys, all the time I fuck them. I fuck and I suck and I stroke; I do it all. But you weren’t good enough for that. You weren’t even as good as the random strangers I would meet at the bars after our dates, encouraging them to fuck my lights out while I thought about how pathetic and small you are. I was leading you on to see if you were dumb enough to think I would fall for you. I don’t want you in my life. I never did. I would be very surprised if anyone did. Your body emits a foul odor that you don’t seem to be aware of. There are too many wrinkles next to your eyes. Your muscles form strange, unattractive shapes around your shoulders and neck. The shape of your penis is strange as well. It is like an orange mashed—”

  “Enough!” Coleman held up a hand. “Stop, please. Clearly I angered you. If you could just explain to me what it is, I’ll apologize, and—”

  “Your voice is like the whining of decades-old machinery. Your syllables flatten when they should float. Your eyes are too close together, and your chin hair is scraggly and prone to catching dust. When you talk about—”

  She had more to say, but Coleman, in a great huff, through his arms up in the air and left. He slammed the door behind him, shouting something like he hoped she was fucking happy with herself.

  And she was. Francesca had never been more happy in her life than she was at that moment, obeying her Master’s instructions to destroy her old relationships.

  Because from now on, only he would exist in her life. Master was all she needed.

  * * * * *

  Her outfit was, of course, outstanding.

  There were no brand new prospective hires at the office on Sunday morning. Everyone there was thoroughly tranced. What that meant, then, was that there was no reason to be subtle in her outfits.

  Oh yes, when new employees came, or when there were guests, all the merry sexcretaries had to dress more conservatively. They had to ensure that they took steps to keep their Master safe from questions. The clearest road to having their happiness end was suspicion, and so they must do whatever they could to never be found suspicious.

  But, now, the NewLife offices were a safe place for all the slaves. Each of them dressed with flamboyant sexiness. They put on their finest club dresses; skimpy spandex, Lycra, vinyl, and silk were the orders of the day. They wore five-inch heels at a minimum, insanely sexy ornaments with tall platform heels made of gaudy glass and so on.

  Francesca was dressed in leather. Skintight leather. She wore a skintight leather minidress, black, that matched her skintight leather boots. Skintight leather gloves adorned her arms, sliding just over her elbows. The outfit made love to her every sensuous curve. Her tits were gathered up and presented as if on a platter, every step she took making their tanned surface bounce and jiggle invitingly.

  Over all of that, she wore a thick white mink fur coat. She wanted to leave no doubt in the minds of the other gathered cockslaves—she was there to stake out her territory. She wanted her Master’s cock, and she wanted it soon, and if any of them had a problem with that, well...she would just show them what kind of cockhungry bitch she could be.

  She was going to put them all to shame. Master wouldn’t want anyone else but her after today. And if he did, it would only be to add to Francesca’s hotness, someone to engage with a hot threesome or foursome or fivesome with.

  Francesca knew, naturally, that her Master deserved all manner of hot group sex with his harem of fuckslaves. The thought of him making more than one girl pregnant in one night was the stuff of her brand-new, shiny, wonderful masturbatory fantasies.

  She entered the office at the same time as everyone else—bright and early at six in the morning. None of the girls looked tired or out-of-sorts, even though they had stayed up late worshiping their Master (indirectly, with photos and video and using the bodies of their roommates, if not adoring him personally) and waking up early to attend to their appearance.

  Master couldn’t abide a tired slave. He had fixed their minds so they wouldn’t need as much sleep. He was so very good to them.

  She walked by Mandy introducing a new gorgeous young Indian teenager to her cubicle. The newcomer was clearly just barely eighteen. Master loved his teenaged cockslaves, just like Francesca. Being barely eighteen was a premium that couldn't be ignored.

  “All you have to do is alpha
betize this pile,” said Mandy.

  “Alphabetize it?” the girl asked, looking unsure. “But...yesterday, I was supposed to scramble it. And the day before, you had me alphabetize it then.”

  “Are you questioning what Master needs?”

  “N-no,” the girl said, shaking her head vigorously. “Of course not. I j-just...”

  “Good girls obey, don’t they?”

  “Yes, ma’am.” She nodded furtively. “Good girls obey. I’m a good girl. I’ll just...just obey.”

  Her voice trailed off into a soft whisper as she dropped down to her knees in front of the giant pile.

  Francesca walked right on by, smiling. She was almost jealous of the girl and her incumbent total mindfuck. There was nothing so perfect, so amazing, as having all her will and thoughts stripped away so that she could become the slave she was meant to be.

  Without waiting to knock, she strutted directly into Master’s office. Already he had a slave attending his cock—Ginger, the sexy little brunette thing.

  Francesca immediately accentuated her strut even more. Her Master’s office was long and wide, and that meant she had plenty of room to put sex on her strut for his enjoyment.

  “You don’t want to be fucking her, do you, Master?” Francesca smiled dazzlingly, and then gave him her absolute best “come fuck me” look.

  Her absolute best look of that variety was, at that point, one of the best in the world.

  “I don’t?”

  Her Master managed to look surprised, as if he had not pre-programmed Francesca to act in this exact manner.

  “No, Sire. You want to be fucking me. You want to be fucking your best new fuckdoll. Don’t you, please?”

  Upon reaching the mark of five feet away from his desk, she dropped to her knees. His new desk was glass, so he could watch her easily as she crawled forward. He could also easily watch Ginger as she continued to suckle and adore his cock as Francesca approached.

  She had his total attention, even with the other slavecunt sucking and serving him.

  “Fuck, you’re gorgeous,” said Master to Francesca. “Do you know how fucking gorgeous you are?”

  Francesca nodded. “Yes, Master.”

  “I mean I have slaves from all over. I get the cream of the crop, you know? But you...you’re out of this world. I want you to know that, Francesca. I want you to know what a good girl fuckdoll you are. I want you to know that deep in your soul.”

  Her soul, indeed, felt like it was on fire from these words. Every compliment from him was making her pussy sing, and the chorus was only just getting started.

  “Yes, Master. I’m gorgeous. It’s because I’m gorgeous that I deserve to be your slave. I was born to be yours, just like every pretty girl. It’s what makes us stand out enough to be noticed. Beautiful women automatically belong to you from the moment we are conceived. It’s that simple. There is no mystery to it. We exist, and so we are yours.”

  “That’s right,” he said.

  He lifted her up by the ass and kissed her fiercely. Francesca moaned, cumming intensely as his tongue slid over hers. His mere touch was enough to send her body blasting off into a world of ecstasy. When he kissed her, it took her into another dimension. And when he fucked her...

  Well, she would find out soon, wouldn’t she?

  She knew, dimly, that he had fucked her already. But he had fucked her tranced self. It wasn’t the real slave self. When she had been tranced, there had still been some part of her left, getting fucked out of her body like a fever attacking an infection.

  Now, her Master was going to get all-slave-Francesca, all the time. Her eyes shone with service, with the perfect need to obey and pleasure this Man, this Only-Man-She-Had-Ever-Known.

  Mandy had entered the room, her shining blond hair glimmering in the bright lights. Already she was pulling down the fabric of her outfit, exposing her heavy tits so that her Master could enjoy the view of her beautiful teenaged body. But Francesca, so beautiful, kept his attention on herself alone.

  “Please,” she moaned softly, sliding back on the desk so that she sat up on the edge. “Please, Daddy. Won’t you breed me, please?”

  Her booted legs wrapped around his waist, tugging him in. The other slaves, Mandy and Ginger, slid forward and docked against his legs with their tits. Smiling, giggling, they pulled down his pants and revealed the majesty of his immense, hard cock.

  “That's right, you fucking slut. You hot little slave bitch.”

  Francesca's body twisted and contorted with every word he said. Needing to hear more. Needing to hear everything he had to say about her.

  “My gorgeous fuckslave,” he said, sliding his cockhead up against her entrance. “My perfect little breeding slut. That's what you are, isn't it, babe?”

  She nodded enthusiastically, shooting him her winningest smile. “Oh yes, DaddyMaster. Yes I am! I'm your gorgeous fuckslave. I'm your perfect little breeding slu—oh!”

  He shoved into her cunt hard, filling her up all the way in one stroke. No foreplay. It was unneeded. Francesca had been wet as a monsoon since she stepped into the office. Heck, since she woke up that day.

  It was a good girl's life to be wet all the time for her Master. Who knew when he might want to fuck her? She had to be ready always.

  She came, immediately, upon his entrance into her tight teenage pussy. Screaming, moaning, her voice reaching its maximum volume. This was, on the decibel scale, close to normal conversational tone—a good girl moaned and screamed and pleaded, but only for Master's ears. All the other slaves were too busy “working” to busy themselves with hearing the endless screams of pleasure from Master's office.

  Fast and furious, he pumped inside of her body. She squeezed his thick, hard cock with everything she had. Her tall heels knocked against each other behind his hips. Every part of her was a decoration for him. Dolled up for his enjoyment. His hands groped at her heavy, massive tits, using them like handles as he drove himself harder and harder into her cunt.

  He was fucking her too fast, too hard, to have any real control. She didn't care. She hadn't stopped cumming since her first orgasm at his initial entrance. Her Master's cock was so fucking amazing! How had she ever had a life before it? It filled up every empty part of her. She flexed her entire body, hoping to squeeze him and give him even more pleasure as his thick rod shoved in and out of her shuddering, needy cunt.

  “Please, Master!” she moaned. “Please, Daddy! Oh god, my MasterDaddy, please! Please breed me! Please fill me up!”

  “You want my fucking cum inside you, you slut?” he grunted. “You want me to get that tiny belly of yours thick with my babies? Is that what you want?”

  His babies. Francesca had never wanted anything more in her life. “Y-yes, Master! Please! Please cum! Please do it, oh my god yes! Yes! Yes!”

  His load was fire inside her. Perfect, hot, wet, gooey fire that lit up every part of her. She vibrated with orgasm, feeling like she was shrieking and squealing at the top of her lungs just as before. But in truth, she was only cooing and moaning in appreciation. Her Master made his slaves cum so often and so well that if they all screamed their heads off like they needed to, he’d be deaf inside of a month.

  So she cooed, moaning and thanking him.

  “Thank you, Master,” she breathed. “Oh, Albert. Master Albert. My MasterDaddy Sire. Thank you so much for fucking me. Thank you so much for breeding me. I know I deserved it...but thank you so much...”

  And so even as he pumped into her more, his seed emptying out completely of his overfilled balls, load after load spilling into her womb, the one thing that filled Francesca even more than his perfect hot cum was gratitude.

  For she would always be so grateful, so happy, so delighted that she had a life where she could serve her Master.

  # # #

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  What's next?

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  Get GREAT deals and save money on stories with these bundles:

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  Bimbo Servant Bundle

  NINE incredible stories of lactating bimbo goddesses serving one lucky man. These fertile nympho babes are so desperate to be filled, they'll do anything to make their Master happy.