by J. A. Bailey
He leaned across to her ear and whispered, "You are too tense. Leg is trembling again. Relaxed and focussed." His breath fell on her neck and down her collarbone. Even that small sensation gave her goosebumps. Again his finger slid through her folds, languorous and lingering, smoothing their juices around her virgin hole.
And then he stopped. Stepped away. No!
Suddenly she heard a buzzing sound. A vibrator?
Bartoli pressed the vibrator against the curve of her back, tracing a path around her back to her hip, to her mound. To her lips. He pressed it against her folds and she tensed, wanting to wriggle, to force it against her bud. Please, please....
The vibrator hit her clit and she gave a deep cry as he pressed it against her. Unable to retreat, she moaned as her pussy rippled with the vibrations. The tingle in her sex grew and she could hear herself as if from a distance.
“Master... Oh God.... Master....”
He moaned and held her tightly. The sensation of his hard rod pressing against her thigh was her undoing and she came suddenly with a scream and her knees went from under her. With one arm across her chest and the other holding the vibrator he held her up.
“Slave. Stand.”
The vibrator was still pressed against her sensitive core and she whined.
“It hurts now, please, take it off me, Master, please.”
A thoughtful look crossed his face before he dropped the vibrator to the ground. “Hmm. We have done a lot today but that will be a lesson for another day, slave. Now. Penchee.”
Groggily she resumed her previous position, switching from left to right leg, her breath heaving in her chest. His fingers slid to her slick pussy and pressed out of her whilst his other hand gripped her hip. Closing her eyes, she inhaled slowly and deeply through her nose and exhaled with a gasp when his slippery finger coaxed an entrance through her tight little entrance into her. The finger slowly slid in and out, such a tiny movement in such a tight hole but as she became accustomed to the feel, her arsehole bloomed, allowing his finger to slide in and out with greater ease.
Another finger, the two gently twisting in, turning as they entered and left in a cork screwing motion. Her pussy began to ache once again. How does this man have this effect on me...?
And stopped.
She felt his hands on her buttocks, still so sore from the spanking and gently pulling them apart. Suddenly reality hit her again—he was going to stick his cock in her arse! His cock was so much bigger than just his fingers! Her entire body went rigid with fear.
“Slave. Stop it.” His voice was so calm, so confident. She knew he wasn’t angry with her but she was angry with herself for just thinking of herself instead of her Master’s needs.
“S-sorry, Master.”
“You have permission to use both hands to hold the barre but you will not allow your form to suffer. If your leg drops, I will beat you senseless,” he growled into her ear.
Her other arm came down immediately and she gripped the barre with all her strength. He settled behind her and rubbed his cock between her lips, coating it in her juices and rubbing against her clit. A moan slipped through her lips, incredulous at how her appetite for him just seemed to grow, not diminish with each touch. The head of his cock pressed against her virgin hole and she inhaled deeply before exhaling sharply as her tight hole gave way, the head of his cock snugly embedded inside her. She moaned, her eyes scrunched and she waited for pain that never came. He paused, watching her reactions in the mirror before pressing hard, his lubed cock sinking into her with ease and she gave a throaty gasp as his huge shaft claimed her virgin arse.
“Fuck, that’s tight,” he grunted with barely restrained lust.
She had never known anything like this feeling but when he withdrew to the tip before easing back in once again, her pussy quivered. Again he thrust, this time with more force as her body relaxed into him and Emmeline received his thrusts with increasing pleasure.
“Your tight arsehole around my cock is one of the most incredible things I have ever seen...”
His balls slapped against her thigh and before long he was fucking her arse like a ripe pussy, restraint long since gone. She squealed in delight as flushes of pleasure shot through her arse, her pussy pulsating and gasping to be filled too. If she had known that it would feel this good, she would never have gone against her master’s wishes before.
“My slutty little slave loves my cock in her arsehole,” he gasped. “Such a cheap whore.
Bartoli’s groans increased and she felt increasingly wobbly en pointe, in serious danger of collapsing again into a trembling mass of pleasure. With what felt like superhuman strength, she focussed her attention on her balance, swaying against his thrusts.
With a cry, he spilled into her, the feel of his cum against her bowels triggering her own climax. She groaned around Bartoli’s cock as her cunt and arse twitched, his hot jets spraying his cum into her until he fell to her left side. Easing her leg around him, he brought her to standing before easing his cock from her, drops of his cum slipping to the floor from her gaping arsehole.
Slowly, deliberately, he walked to the piano stool and sat. An idea struck her and she fell to her knees, crawling to him. With her head at his cock, she put her arms behind her and leaned towards him, licking the musky, salty cum from him and licking him clean.
Bartoli stroked her hair as she finished, a tender little smile making him look quite boyish. She met his gaze and smiled timidly.
“Thank you. You’re a good girl. A good slave.”
Pride overwhelmed her and she smiled, tired but delighted and oh so satisfied.
He stood up and drew her to the piano stool and gently seated her. Suddenly exhausted, she slumped forwards, elbows on her knees, eyes gently closed. She was aware that he had moved but both he and the rest of the world seemed so far away and she was suddenly very snoozy. Something warm and damp touched her pussy and she jumped.
“Shhh. This is for your skin”
A washcloth. With warm, scented water, Bartoli tenderly cleansed her, from her pussy to the dried semen still splattered across her face and breasts. She gave a content sigh as he stroked her body clean, felt the luxurious cloth stroking her used pussy.
“Show me your back,” he quietly ordered.
She stood and leaned over with trembling legs, gripping the piano stool for balance. He rinsed the cloth and continued to wipe her down, her red buttocks, her sweaty back, her stretched leaking arsehole. Whether he meant it to or not, her nipples tightened and a gasp escaped her, half satisfaction and half lust. He looked at her abused body, chuckling gently before turning her around, looking into her eyes.
“So, little slave, you will leave here for your new quarters. The Piccadilly Hotel’s presidential suite has been booked. My man will be at your flat within the next fifteen minutes to collect your belongings and leave payment for the remainder of your tenancy. I leave it to your discretion as to whether you choose to say any final words to your erstwhile flatmate.” He arched an eyebrow at her and she bit her lip, a wicked grin crossing her face.
“Master, how will I get there when you cut my leotard off?”
“Your new clothes are in the travel bag on the balcony. That grotty little leotard was not suitable for a slave of mine.” The mischievous glint in his eyes was unmistakable and her grin broadened.
“If I might make a little suggestion for my Master...”
“Speak, little one.”
She playfully curled a finger into her hair, leaning her head to one side coquettishly.
“Master has been so kind to get me clothes fitting of him. Perhaps I ought to model some on the balcony.”
He burst out laughing, a boyish smile plastered across his face. If it was possible for Emmeline to find him even more attractive...
“Hmmm. Or perhaps instead of you trying to top from the bottom, I ought to leash you, walk you to the taxi and give you another thrashing on the back seat. Let the concierge see your raw ar
se after I’ve given it a real punishment.”
“So you’re coming with me to the hotel?” Her bunched hands came up to her chin and her eyes lit up. Oh please!
His eyebrows raised. “You’re my slave. And my new prima dancer. I need to be sure that your new training regime is adhered to at all times.”
Excitement bubbled up inside of her as his fingers held her chin and lifted her lips to his again. Whatever new adventure he had planned for her, she was very ready and very willing.
The End
Other books by J.A. Bailey
Sold for Sex
Breaking Laura
Hunting Laura
The British Bondage Collection
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