by Emily Tilton
Zoe screamed with forced pleasure, riding his thigh, humping it, fighting the grip of his right leg across her knees as if she couldn’t help it, as if the tension between their muscles had driven the pleasure too deep into her body to control herself any longer.
“You need hard fucking, don’t you, Zo? You need it really bad, don’t you?”
She came again, and again, and again, as Bradley held her in position, using her orgasms to teach her the special kind of disciplinary lesson he now understood would be an essential part of their married lives. Now at last he stopped the motion of his hand between her thighs, though he kept his left hand on her bottom with his fingertip against her sweet little anus.
“Oh, God... yes... yes, sir.”
“It’s time to thank me for your spanking, don’t you think?”
“What? Wh-what do you mean?”
Bradley released her from between his legs, and began to steer her into the position in which he wanted her very badly now, kneeling between his thighs and looking up at him with bright eyes and a very flushed, but not really a very confused face: Zoe, he could tell, knew exactly what he meant.
He put his hands down to his waistband, and watched her eyes drop to see what his fingers did there. A deep furrow appeared on her forehead, and she bit her lip.
“Do I have to?” Zoe whispered, her voice sounding so dreamy that Bradley could almost hear the different parts of her fighting for control, and the best part for right now—the part that could enjoy, and would enjoy, the dirty kind of sex it seemed clear they both needed—winning.
“Yes, Zo,” he said, softening his tone to match hers. “You have to. It’s time to learn how a wife pleases her husband.”
He unzipped his fly, reached inside his pants and his boxer briefs to find his iron-hard cock, so aroused by spanking his sweet girl and making her come that it had begun to ache a little. Zoe gave a little gasp as he pulled his erection out, then freed his balls, too, the hairy nest around them such a contrast to her own pussy now that Nurse Carter had prepared her for fucking.
“You’ve never been so close to a man’s penis, have you, Zoe?” he asked as he pumped his cock gently in his left hand. The mere sight of Zoe’s pretty, innocent face only an inch away from his cock seemed to make him grow even harder, seemed to make him ache even more to be inside her, teaching her to be a good girl for him.
She shook her head vigorously. “Never,” she whispered.
“You’ll do this a lot when we’re married,” Bradley said, letting himself return to the authoritative tone he had used a moment before. “Especially after a spanking or a paddling.”
That drew a little whimper from Zoe, and she looked up at him with an adorable pout. “A paddling?”
“Sometimes you’re going to need the paddle, when you’ve been naughty,” he said simply, putting out his right hand to stroke her cheek. “You know it’s true, don’t you, Zo?”
Zoe didn’t answer, but dropped her eyes again to his cock. He watched her face work, shame and arousal vying on her brow and in her eyes. She didn’t want to admit it, and he wouldn’t make her, but at least a part of her understood her need for the paddle and the kind of mastering he intended to give her from now on.
“Open your mouth, Zoe,” he said. “It’s time to thank me for taking you in hand.”
Chapter Nine
Zoe didn’t think she could do it. She knew other girls gave blowjobs—Cindy even said she liked giving blowjobs. But a modest girl, saving herself for marriage, couldn’t like that kind of thing, could she?
Bradley’s thing was so big in his hand, jutting up from his trousers, too, and it had so many unexpected things about it: the curve of its head, the prominence of its throbbing vein, the little slit at the very tip where a drop of some clear fluid now appeared, making Zoe shrink back a few inches. And she could smell the masculine scent, coming from around it, especially the wrinkly pouch of Bradley’s scrotum—not terribly strong, but present, and different from...
She hadn’t noticed it before in the air of her fiancé’s apartment, because she had had so much to which to pay attention, but now it seemed to strike her nose urgently: her own naughty fragrance. The contrast made her blush very, very deeply, because Zoe’s girlish scent, the odor of a pussy that a man has brought to orgasm over his knee, so many times that the girl couldn’t even count them, seemed so much stronger than this new, somehow darker smell of his masculine secrets.
Her jaw dropped open a little, though she still didn’t think she could do it. A part of her wanted to, maybe, but how could she? It seemed so dirty, and the penis looked much too big to fit inside her mouth, and blowjobs were a filthy thing that bad girls gave. The shameful thought, to her distress, made her suddenly start to get warm again, down below. Her spanked bottom still stung fiercely even though Bradley had only brought his hand down three times on it, because he had, Zoe knew, meant to punish her... to correct her... to teach her... That heat spread again, now, just as it had so lewdly over his knee, when he had held her down and she had had no choice about any of it.
Zoe’s mouth opened a little wider at that thought, and a little whimpering sound came from her throat. She looked at the hard shaft in Bradley’s gently moving hand. A thrill of shame went through her to see that he, a man and a soon-to-be husband, could make himself feel good whenever he pleased, while Zoe... well, she had never really thought about it this way before, but wouldn’t Bradley spank her—no, shouldn’t he paddle her, if he caught her touching herself? If he even caught her leaning against the counter the way she had done that morning?
The right hand that had stroked her cheek moved to the back of her head, fingers twining in her honey-blonde hair. She felt somehow both a question and a command in that grip, as Bradley seemed to test the tension in Zoe’s neck: would she resist, or did she simply need him to nudge—not to force—the matter.
Zoe felt her eyes widen as she realized that her fiancé had pulled her head forward half an inch, and she had not resisted—not at all. His left hand held his cock still now, and he made her take it in her mouth, made her accept two inches of his rigid penis inside her, so that half by his will and half by her consent, eighteen-year-old Zoe Ralston became a cocksucker.
The thought, I’m a cocksucker now, made her moan around the hardness that Bradley thrust gently into her mouth, filling her there as he held her face still to take it just as he pleased. She bent her knees a little, and her back a little, and she pushed out her spanked bottom, wanting him to see that she knew she had needed the spanking, just like Nurse Carter had said.
“Oh, that’s good,” Bradley murmured. “Such a good girl. You’re welcome.”
To her astonishment, Zoe giggled then, her heart suddenly feeling lighter than air. It felt so terribly naughty to have a penis in her mouth, but of course Bradley couldn’t spank her for that, could he?
She felt him relax his arm, though he kept his hand in her hair, and she decided to try to do the one thing she knew a girl giving a blowjob was supposed to do: she bobbed her head experimentally, trying to take more of the cock inside with each bob. She looked up, too, to see Bradley smiling down at her.
“That’s it,” he said encouragingly. “Use your hands, too, Zo, very gently.”
Zoe tried it, moving her mouth on the head of the penis and rubbing with her right hand the way she had seen Bradley do to himself.
“You’re learning so quickly,” he said, his patronizing tone making her burn and clench between her thighs. “I’m going to stand up, now, and take my pants off. I have to tell you something, now that I’m sure it’s true, and I just figured out the best way to tell it.”
Somehow, Zoe knew he meant he was about to tell her something terribly shameful. She felt a shudder go through her upper body as Bradley pushed the chair back and began to stand, and her hips jerked toward him for yet another contraction, an aftershock of the climaxes to which her fiancé had forced her, had jolted her wanton pussy.
Zoe tried to pul
l away, thinking she would sit back on her heels while he stepped out of his pants, but Bradley didn’t allow it.
“No, Zoe. Keep my cock in your mouth,” he said in a didactic, almost gentle tone that made her whine around the hard flesh that filled up the place a girl was supposed to use for speaking her mind. Now it would be the place her husband took his pleasure.
One of the places, anyway.
Bradley loosened his belt and dropped his pants and his black underwear to the hardwood floor of his dining area. He kept Zoe’s face in place, his penis still in her mouth, the whole while, and now she knelt before him as he stood, and he could thrust easily in and out.
Fucking my face. Fucking my face hole. Zoe cried out around the cock that used her at the treasonous, needy way her brain responded to her fiancé’s sudden dominance. She had no idea whether she wanted to thank Nurse Carter, or she would rather have seen the nurse naked over a stool of her own while a man paddled her wise, experienced backside very hard.
Bradley stopped thrusting for a moment and relaxed his grip on Zoe’s head.
“Look at me, Zoe,” he said. She had been seeing only his powerful hips moving back and forth, her whole world the dark, shameful region of her bridegroom’s lap. Now she turned her eyes upward to see him looking down with a mixture of kindness and hunger in his eyes that made her tummy seem to flip over.
As their eyes remained locked, he stepped out of his pants and kicked them away. His hands left her head, and he began to unbutton his shirt. The sight of his powerful, hairy chest made her tummy do another somersault, made her whimper around the cock that had stopped moving in her mouth. She tried to suckle at it, now, moved her head back and forth, desperate to please him, wanting only to hear him say he liked fucking his bride’s face, even though she had never had the penis inside her before.
Zoe became terribly conscious, for the first time since Bradley had taken down her jeans and panties, of the contrast presented by her state of undress. Her lacy white bra, lifting and ornamenting her little breasts even as it restrained them, felt like a harness for a young filly being broken to the saddle. She remembered the way the nurse had touched her nipples and wondered with a sudden blush if Bradley would touch them that way, with casual authority. Their little buds poked into the fabric of the bra and tingled with need.
Down below, things were even more shameful. Her jeans and panties were around her knees, restraining her and baring her shaven pussy, her spanked bottom. Bradley had told her he meant to fuck her in her lacy panties, and now her mind wouldn’t stop wondering whether that meant with them where they were now, or whether he intended to let her pull them up again, only to have the seat and the gusset pulled aside, so that he could thrust inside her pussy for the first time.
His white shirt dropped to the floor atop his pants, and now her fiancé stood naked, his cock in Zoe’s mouth, while she wore clothes—but wore only what Bradley had decided she should wear, and in the manner he had decided she should wear it. She felt her brow crease deeply as he returned his hands to the back of her head and began to thrust gently inside her mouth again.
Zoe raised her hands, seeking to please him that way, too, but Bradley said, “No hands right now,” and she obeyed, her face burning as she gazed up at him, his own eyes taking in the shameful sight of a girl who had meant to save herself for her wedding night getting a face-fucking. Her hands dangling at her sides, her fiancé controlled her with one hand in her hair and the other on the back of her neck, and enjoyed her with his hardness, small, unbelievably sexy grunts of satisfaction coming from deep in his muscular chest.
Her body seemed to have tuned itself to his new, casually dominant way with her. Part of Zoe remembered that he intended to tell her something, but the feeling of his hands on her, of the penis using her, seemed to harmonize with the still-tingling remnants of his hands’ mastery of her pussy and her bottom in the lewdly bare place between her lacy bra and the tangle of her jeans.
Zoe wanted to hear what her bridegroom meant her to know, but she also understood why he had said he had found the right way to tell her: whatever he said now, it would have to do with how from now on her body would belong to him this way. He would decide when she was allowed to wear clothes and when she wasn’t, when she had to have his cock in her and when she didn’t.
He took his hardness from her mouth, to her surprise, but he didn’t release her head. Instead, as she gave a little cry of shame and alarm, he raised his penis, pumping it again in his hand, and urged her face below the shaft, rubbing his balls against her nose and her mouth. It seemed to Zoe at once the most shameful and the most thrilling thing she had ever experienced.
“Kiss them, Zo,” Bradley said, as if a husband could just say that. “Then lick them. It feels good.”
Her eyes went wide, and her lips refused to purse for the kiss.
“You don’t want another spanking, do you?” His hand flashed up and down, masturbating while he watched his innocent bride consider, watched her right hand go back to rub the bottom he had spanked, watched her do the most degrading thing she had ever done: she kissed the part of him that seemed to concentrate the musky darkness of his masculinity, she licked the wrinkly skin with its fine hairs, seeming to taste shame in its purest form.
She rubbed her punished bottom frantically, trying to remind herself that if she didn’t obey she would learn another lesson and not wanting even to consider whether she wanted that lesson desperately, or desperately wanted to avoid it. She put her finger on the little hole where Bradley had touched her, where the nurse had looked and promised her husband would want to have sex. She whimpered as she licked and licked the little round things in their fragrant pouch.
“Good girl,” Bradley murmured. “That’s it. Are you touching your asshole?”
Zoe jerked her hand away, face burning.
“No, Zoe, put your hand back there and show me how you like to touch your anus. I’m going to talk to you about that precise subject now—both those subjects, actually... playing with yourself and what’s going to happen to your asshole.”
Chapter Ten
Zoe whimpered at his words. Her hand moved back and held her adorable bottom open even a little further than she had unconsciously done before he had caught her with her middle finger on the sweet ring of her tight little anus. The sound and the lewd, helpless movement together told Bradley that he had found a good way to go over the matters Davies had advised him to cover before deflowering her.
You’ll see how much she needs it, the program officer had said, and you should go ahead and give it to her if you decide the time is right. But make sure you make it clear to her beforehand what the way you’re going to have sex tonight and after you’re married means.
Zoe pulled her face back a little, and Bradley relaxed his grip on the back of her neck so that she could look up at him with anxious eyes.
“What’s going to happen?” she asked in a whisper. Her face had a sheen now, on her lips and on her cheeks, from her shameful service between his thighs.
“Put both your hands back, now, and spread your bottom open for me,” Bradley said, using the gentle, patronizing tone he had discovered tonight he enjoyed so much. Zoe’s eyes went wide, and her lips parted. He could see on his bride’s lovely face exactly how deep a struggle such a command caused her. He spoke even more softly, then, despite the message he knew he must convey: “Do as I say, Zoe, or I’ll have to punish you.”
Zoe’s immediate, obedient response, and the way she bounced on her knees as she did it, pulling her little cheeks apart with her fingers right on the spot where his open hand had fallen so heavily, made his cock leap as he continued to pump it gently in front of her face.
“But...” she whispered again, as if the air moving against the tiny flower of her bottom made her question even more urgent, “what’s going to happen?”
“I’m going to fuck you there, on our wedding night,” Bradley said matter-of-factly, stroking her cheek and looki
ng into her eyes. “That’s the virginity I’m going to take on Saturday, since I’m going to fuck your pussy tonight, in just a little while.”
Zoe’s face puckered, her forehead working urgently as she processed this coarse declaration and tried to reconcile the need it clearly awakened between her thighs with the modesty she had learned, growing up. Bradley couldn’t resist his instinct to overcome her reluctance in the manly way he had begun to use with her, to both their benefits: he pulled her face toward his lap, and he lifted his balls so that he could make her confront their underside, where the sheer, dark masculinity felt strongest to him. He let his tight, full scrotum settle on the bridge of her nose and he moved his hips to rub his balls against his innocent bride’s face.
She gave a little cry and tried to pull away, but Bradley enforced his will, pumping his cock more rapidly in his hand and loving the wicked sensation of having his sweet girl in such a shameful place.
“Lick, Zoe,” he said, and suddenly, giving a sob of pleasure, her hands clutched convulsively at her bottom and she started to lick as if her fiancé’s balls were a delicious treat. It felt so good that Bradley gave a grunt from deep in his chest. Hearing that masculine sound, Zoe kissed his scrotum reverently, and licked it even more gently, all the while holding her little bottom open the way she had been instructed to do, her hands working there so that with every kiss and lick she gave a needy little whimper.
“Put your right hand in front, now,” he said, “and play with your pussy. Touch your anus with your left hand.”
Zoe hesitated. Her licking tongue slowed, then stopped. Bradley watched, fascinated, as her hands again squeezed her adorable bottom, as if reminding herself one more time what happened when she disobeyed her future husband. A tiny, keening whimper came from her throat, and then she did as he had commanded, moving her right hand around her hip and shifting her left slightly so as to work her middle finger between her butt-cheeks.