Page 56 of Shamefully Trained

“Sir,” she sobbed at once. “Sir… please…”

I leaned over her a little more, my chest to her back for one stroke, then another. “There’s something you should know, because I’m going to come in this tight little cunt.”

She made a helpless little noise as I thrust deeper. “I… I… can’t think.”

“You don’t have to think much.” I drew out almost all the way and drove back in. “I’ve had a vasectomy.”

Even in her state, I felt the slight jolt of surprise go through her. Good. I wanted to have that concern removed from the equation, to help Alex truly let go. I felt certain she had some rational little corner of her mind trying to govern this, trying to make her body’s surrender fit into acceptable categories. Better to deprive it of one more excuse to interfere.

Then I gave her the next structure she needed, smiling despite the heat in me and the way the velvet walls of her pussy nearly overmastered my control as my cock came and went inside her. “What do you want?”

She tried to answer, but another thrust took the coherence out of her for a moment. I kept fucking her, steady and deep, feeling her body open around me more fully with every stroke. My hand on the plug moved the toy in and out with tiny, controlled motions that made her shudder violently.

“Tell me.”

“I want…” Her voice broke. “I want to come.”

“Do you.”

“Yes… sir… please… please…”

“You will ask permission before you come.”

She sobbed out her response instantly, exactly as I expected. “Please… please, may I come?”

The speed of it nearly made me laugh, though what I felt most strongly was hunger. Such a needy thing. Such an honest one, once properly pressed. I kept my pace unchanged.

“No.”

Her whole body jerked.

“Sir,” she whimpered.

“No,” I repeated calmly. “You may ask. You may beg. You may not come until I decide.”

* * *

Alex

“Oh, God… I mean… oh, sir…” The idea went through my feverish brain that somehow Porter Bradford had become my new deity: one who had a power over me that felt much more present than any almighty’s could be.

“No,” he said again, maddeningly calm behind me.

I made a sound that hardly seemed human. The table dug into my hips with each thrust. My wrists were still caught in one of his hands at the small of my back, and his other hand still toyed with the plug, not enough to pull it out, just enough to remind my body, over and over, that every part of me had become part of the lesson, that every part of me belonged to my sponsor.

“Please,” I whispered. Then louder, “Please, sir. I need to. I need to so much.”

“You do,” he agreed, his voice husky with his pleasure, but he showed no sign of relenting. He simply accepted the fact of my need as if it were one more useful piece of data, and then continued using me exactly as he pleased. His cock kept driving into me, deep and hard. The plug shifted under his fingers. My whole body strained toward the edge he would not let me cross.

I tried to hold back because he had told me to, but my body had become one long trembling plea. My thighs shook. My hot, needy pussy clenched frantically around him. Tears blurred my sight as I stared at the polished surface of the table inches from my face.

“Ask properly,” he growled into my ear.

“Please, may I come, sir?”

“No.”

The sob broke out of me at once, and he kept fucking me so hard the table shook.