by Parker Grey
You were a nice girl, a voice in the back of my head whispers. Nice girls don’t do this.
I nearly laugh out loud. Nice girls don’t do anything I’ve been doing. If that’s my concern, I think that ship has sailed.
He slides one finger into my puckered hole, then two. I bite my lip, stifling a moan, and push back against him. It’s strange but good, and his fingers can reach places the plug couldn’t, places that make my knees feel weak, that make my head spin.
He adds a third finger, and I gasp. Now I’m stretched, my ass filled with just his fingers, and Julian goes slow. I glance down, between my legs, and I can see him stroking himself with his other hand, slick with a combination of my juices and lube, just the sight of his huge cock making me throb and ache all over again.
I give in. I arch my back and push my hips toward him, letting him sink his fingers inside my ass to the knuckle, moaning at the new sensations.
“Do it,” I gasp. “Please.”
He fucks me slowly with his hand, my body moving back and forth with an unstoppable rhythm.
“Say it,” he commands. “Beg me.”
“Take me,” I moan.
He pushes his hand deeper, cock resting against my pussy.
“More,” he growls.
“I need you there,” I gasp out. “I need you to—”
The head of his cock slips inside my pussy, and I whimper with pleasure.
“I need your cock inside my ass,” I finally whisper.
Instantly he pulls out, one hand on my hips, the head of his cock at my back hole now as he pushes himself inside, slowly.
“Relax,” he whispers, and I try, gasping for air into the pillow below my face.
The head of his cock slides in little by little, stretching my hole wide, making me gasp and moan, my hands desperately clutching the pillows on his bed.
He’s big, way bigger than any toy or fingers I’ve had back there, and I bite my lip, trying to fight back the pain because I want this. I want Julian to feel every inch of my body, to rule over all of me.
I want him to come in every hole. I want to be his to use as he sees fit, his to fuck wherever and whenever he wants, so I force myself to relax, press back into him even as it hurts.
I can hear myself moaning and whimpering, making desperate little mewling sounds as he pushes me wider and wider until suddenly, the head of his cock pops inside he and he growls.
“Your ass is so tight,” he murmurs, running one hand up my back. “You like that, dirty girl?”
It doesn’t hurt anymore, but I don’t think I can move. I feel like I’m pinned to the bed by his cock, completely and utterly open to him. At his mercy.
“Yes,” I whisper.
“You want more?” he asks, voice low and gravelly.
Julian doesn’t wait for an answer, sliding himself another centimeter into me, and even though I’m totally familiar with what it feels like to have something in my ass, it’s never been this.
It’s never been something this thick or this long, something that made me feel incapable of even speaking. I just moan, my face in the pillow as my fingers and toes clench. I’m wonderfully helpless right now, my only purpose being used by this beast.
Then his hand is in my hair again, grabbing a fistful of it and pulling my head back. I struggle onto my elbows, my muscles barely able to support my weight as he’s relentless, filling me and pulling me back against him, and I know he won’t stop until he’s completely buried inside me again.
“I asked you a question,” he growls over my whimpers. “I asked if you want more.”
I swallow, my breath coming in shallow pants.
“Yes,” I whisper.
He thrusts in, harder than he has before, and it makes my back arch and toes curl with strange pleasure.
“More?” he growls.
“Yes.”
He fucks me again, even harder, and I can hear myself moaning. My whole body tingles like I might come soon, my empty pussy drooling, my clit throbbing to be touched.
“You want it all, you pretty dirty thing?”
He doesn’t wait for an answer that time either, just slams his cock into me until his hips are flush with my ass, a wave of pleasure so intense hitting me that I let out a sound that’s half-sob, half-shout.
“Yes!” I cry out, barely able to breathe. “Yes, oh God, yes.”
Julian starts fucking my ass, his massive cock sliding in and out, hitting pleasure centers I didn’t know I even had in my body. It’s strange, unexpected, but it feels so good that I’m helpless, putty, moaning his name over and over again.
I beg him to fuck me harder, fuck me deeper. I beg him again and again for more, to make me come, and I don’t even recognize that I’m doing it.
He does. Soon Julian’s fucking me hard, mercilessly, sinking himself deep with every hard stroke, slamming his body into mine as pleasure crackles through my veins.
“Make me come,” I’m babbling, bound hand and foot, not even able to move. “Make me come with your cock in my ass, please Sir, please make me come I need it so bad…”
I can feel it building inside me, the wave ready to break, and I’m screaming into my pillow when suddenly Julian stops.
He pulls out.
No! I think, but I can’t even form the words out loud, only lie there in sudden, shocked stillness, until suddenly I feel something at my right ankle, then my left.
Without warning, he grabs one leg and flips me over again and I’m bouncing on the bed, arms still over my head, suddenly looking at him as he kneels between my legs, thick cock glistening, pointing straight into the air.
He doesn’t say anything, but he grabs my thighs and spreads them wide, pushing my knees up by my torso. With one hand he steadies his cock against my ass and then slides in with a single thrust, making my back arch.
“I want to watch you while you take me,” he says, his breathing rough as he palms both my breasts, his fingers pinching and rolling my nipples as he does.
“I want to watch your face when you come with me inside you like this,” he goes on, one hand drifting down my torso. “I want to watch you while you know you’re helpless, while I make you come however I want.”
His thumb brushes over my clit and my whole body jerks. Now he’s not fucking me as fast as he was before, but it’s hard and deep, an angle that makes my vision go fuzzy around the edges.
“Yes,” I gasp. “Make me come, please.”
Julian circles my clit with his thumb again, then again, fucking me as he does it and it only takes seconds before it feels like my entire body explodes around him. I’m sobbing and whimpering, certain that nothing has ever felt this good and nothing ever will again, my legs wrapping around him and pulling him into me as hard as possible.
I shatter, my whole body breaking. I’m awash with pleasure as I come again and again, peaking as he keeps fucking me, keeps rubbing my clit like that. I can barely breathe and for a moment I think I might die of asphyxiation, but I don’t even care, I just don’t want it to stop.
At last Julian grabs my hips hard, driving himself inside me even deeper than before, deeper than I thought was even possible. His cock jerks and as my consciousness floats to the surface, I can feel him come inside me, his hot, sticky seed pumping into me.
I clench around him. I want all of him, this and more. It feels good that he’s leaving some of himself in me, that I can feel it trickle out slowly for hours.
Maybe he used me. I get how it could look like that to outsiders, but it’s not what happened.
After a long time, Julian pulls out of me, his cock going soft, but he keeps my legs wrapped around his body as he strokes me, just looking, and I let him. He tweaks my nipples, runs his fingers over my collarbone, over my belly, past my hips.
He strokes my tender inner thighs, and I bite my lip, thinking for a moment that he might be starting again, but he doesn’t. That’s fine. I came so hard that right now I’m not sure I can ever come again, and de
finitely not right now.
“Belle,” he finally whispers. “You’re so beautiful.”
Chapter Thirty-Three
Julian
I just stare at Belle, her hands still tied over her head, her glorious body stretched in front of me. I can’t believe that she’s let me do everything to her that I have, that she’s seen the darkest parts of me and came back willingly.
Even more, I can’t believe she liked it. My fondest wish has always been to find someone who didn’t mind the things I wanted to do to her, who’d tolerate it once in a while, but a beautiful, smart woman who wants it just as bad as I do?
She’s a dream.
I must be dreaming.
“You’re so beautiful,” I murmur again, lost in a rapture.
“You too,” she finally whispers, and I smile, leaning over her.
“You don’t have to lie,” I murmur into her ear as I untie her bonds, taking her wrists between my hands and rubbing them, making sure that her circulation is okay.
“I’m not lying,” she says, taking her hands from me, sliding one through my hair and bringing my forehead down to hers. “Just because you’re imperfect doesn’t mean you’re not beautiful.”
I kiss her slowly, thoroughly. I explore every part of her mouth with my tongue and she lets me, yielding softly, mine to plunder.
“I can’t be,” I murmur. “Look at me. Look at the things I do.”
Belle laughs. It sounds like a chime ringing in the wind, and I stroke her hair with one hand.
“Why?” she says.
“It’s not…” I say. “They’re not good.”
She takes my hand in hers, twining our fingers together.
“I disagree,” she says, kissing me lightly. “I think they’re very good.”
I nuzzle my face against her hair, breathing her in.
“I love you,” I say.
“I love you too,” she whispers. “That’s why I came back. I couldn’t stand to be without you any longer.”
“Will you stay?” I ask.
There’s a tone in my voice I don’t know, soft and pleading. Belle holds my heart in both hands, and she could crush it instantly if she wanted to.
She pauses. I swallow hard.
“Please?” I whisper.
“I can stay tonight,” she says, her voice hesitant. “But, Julian, my father…”
“Marry me,” I say.
Belle holds her breath.
I hold my breath.
I didn’t mean to say it. It just came out, because I need her so desperately — I’m in love with this woman, and I can’t bear to see her go again.
“Marry me, Belle,” I say again, and suddenly I realize how much I mean it. “I know this is sudden, and it’s spur of the moment, and I don’t have a ring or anything but I love you. I need you. I want you to be my bride, to be mine forever, from this instant onward.”
Her eyes are wide, and she blinks at me, taken completely by surprise. I squeeze her hand in mine, and she squeezes back.
“You don’t have to answer now. I know it’s sudden, it’s probably impulsive, but I mean every single thing I say, Belle—”
“Yes,” she says.
I stop, stunned.
“I’ll marry you,” she whispers. “I love you. I couldn’t stand to be without you.”
Suddenly I’m struck by a happiness so intense, so complete, that it’s dizzying.
“We can move your father in with us,” I say. “He’ll have care night and day, we can get him a laboratory to do his experiments in and if he hates the monarchy too much for that, I’ll set him up nearby—”
Belle just starts laughing, and I stop in the middle of my sentence, puzzled.
“We can worry about that later,” she says. “Just kiss me.”
I do.
Epilogue
Belle
This had better not be some sort of anti-monarchy plot,” Julian teases.
He’s walking ahead of me down a private hall at the palace, blindfolded. It’s behind several locked doors that only we have the keys to — and it’s a good thing, because all I’ve got on is strategically painted liquid latex, nipple clamps swaying between my breasts.
“Yes, I’m playing the long con,” I tease right back. “I married you and had your child just so I could push you off a ledge while wearing almost nothing.”
“Tell me more about what you’re wearing,” he growls.
I lean in, on my tiptoes, until my lips are at the back of his neck.
“Not much,” I whisper.
My husband just growls in response, and I push him lightly between the shoulder blades, my wedding and engagement ring sparkling in the light.
I lead him down the hall to a door, take a deep breath, and open it, pulling him through. Inside is a dungeon twice the size of the one he had, filled with everything I could possibly think of and a few things I’d never imagined.
All discreetly purchased, of course. I know full well that the future king and queen of Griskold can’t be known for being a couple of perverts, but Mrs. Agnes Schmidt of Loverness — my invented identity — is on every dirty mailing list in Europe.
There’s an enormous bed with latex sheets, of course. Two different spanking benches, stocks, harnesses, something simply called a ‘fucking chair,’ a sex swing, and the ceiling is crisscrossed with metal bars so he can chain me up anywhere he wants.
Plus, there’s plenty of room for improvement — anything else that might strike his fancy.
I swallow, my mouth suddenly dry. I didn’t tell him anything about this, didn’t even mention this birthday present to him, and now I’m a little nervous.
What if none of this is what he wants? What if he would have wanted to put his own dungeon together instead?
Before we came, I lit the whole space with hundreds of flickering candles, mostly white, and they cast an eerie ambience into the room.
We stop in the center, surrounded by BDSM equipment, my heart beating hard.
I turn to face him.
“Belle,” he says, just a hint of a smile in his voice. “Where are we?”
“Well, it used to be a storage room,” I demure. “I had lots of old carpets moved out of here.”
“And what is it now?” he asks.
I have a feeling that he already suspects the answer. Already I can see the faint outline of his cock through his pants, hardening with every moment.
I get on my knees in front of him, pussy already drooling with anticipation. Now I’m eye level with his cock, and just like always, it’s nearly all I can think about.
I reach forward, unzip his suit pants softly. Julian growls, one hand on my head, his fingers locking in my hair as I reach into his boxers and his magnificent cock springs out, rock-hard and thick.
“Take your blindfold off,” I whisper, and it flutters to the ground next to me just as I slide the head of his cock into my mouth, savoring the droplet of salty-sweet gathering at the tip.
Julian groans, fingers tight in my hair.
“Jesus, Belle,” he murmurs. “This is fucking perfect.”
I slide my lips down his cock slowly, my tongue working against the underside until he hits the back of my mouth.
“You’re fucking perfect,” he growls.
His breathing quickens slightly and he shifts a little, like he’s looking around. I slide my lips back, teasing, fighting lightly against the hand in my hair.
“I don’t even know what to use first,” he says, breathing rough. “I could put you on the St. Andrew’s cross, spread your legs, watch your honey drip down your thighs while I whip you. Would you like that?”
I suck hard on the tip of his cock, lavishing it with my tongue.
“Or I could tie you up on that fuck chair,” he says. “I’d tie you up, put a vibrator in your pretty little pussy, and then sit back and watch while I edged you for as long as I liked.”
I whimper against his cock, pushing my mouth back down. This time his hand i
s firm in my hair, and when he hits the back of my mouth I swallow, opening my throat, and look up at him even as the tears gather in my eyes.
Julian’s breathing hard, his thick chest puffing in and out as my lips hit the fabric of his jeans, his enormous cock completely down my throat, his hand holding me there, powerless.
“Or I could bend you over that bench, tie you down and fuck you in every hole,” he murmurs. “You deserve a reward for this beautiful room, Belle.”
I swallow again, the muscles of my throat moving against his stiff cock, and he groans again.
“I love you,” he says, pulling back on my hair.
His cock is out of my mouth so fast that I cough, but then he’s on his knees too, right in front of me. He wipes a tear from my face with his thumb, and I look into his good eye.
“I love you,” he whispers, kissing me even though I know I taste like him. “I love that you’re my wife. I love that you’re a wonderful mother to my child. I love that you let me share my life with you.”
I put one hand on his shoulder, surprised at this sudden gentle moment.
“I love you too,” I whisper. Normally this happens after a sex, when I’m still coming down from my high, out of subspace, when my body is still twitching after coming five times in a row.
“You know what else I love?” he asks, his hand still tender on my face.
“That I love getting spanked as much as you love spanking me?” I tease.
Julian smiles.
“You do know,” he says, reaching between my legs with one hand, drawing his fingers from my wet pussy to my clit, making me inhale sharply.
“Show me,” I whisper. “Please, sir, show me how much you love me.”
He does.
The End
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I’m hard on my students.
All semester, Melody has been sitting quietly in the back of my class - a straight-A student with a perfect 4.0 GPA. A nice, polite, well-behaved, good girl.