Friday, July 1, 2016

Weekend Wake-up Call – Netherworld II: Blood Potion No. 9

Without one bit of warning, Dan shoved three fingers into my pussy. My breath caught at the abrupt impaling, but I wasn’t complaining. His working in and out of me felt so good that my insides bubbled effervescently right off the bat. I warbled happiness and moved back to greet the next thrust.

“That’s it, baby girl. Swallow those fingers,” Dan breathed.

I rocked back and forth, knowing he was watching my pussy take them in, knowing he was loving the sight of my eager flesh that was his to command. His other hand cupped my hairless mound to rub in slow circles, the heel of his palm occasionally brushing my clit. Chills sparkled down my spine even as my core went molten lava. When the fingers inside me curled to press that sweet spot inside me, my toes curled too, and my hair rose on end.

“Sir.” I groaned all the way from my gut.

“I know, baby. It feels good. Keep working those fingers, Brandilynn.”

I did as I was told, sliding back and forth, helping him torment me with pleasure. My insides were beginning to coil, wrapping tight in on themselves. Soon I would be begging him to let me come. He’d probably refuse me the privilege until I screamed for it. When it came to refusing me climax, Dan could be as much of an absolute sadist as Tristan. 

In and out those amazing fingers plunged, hitting the magic spot more often than not. I panted, offering little cries when his palm made contact with my clit and sent sensation sizzling through my womb. My entire body trembled as he pushed me harder, faster. Lightning flashes of enthrallment bolted through me, crowding me at the edge of the precipice. Heat blazed, threatening to ignite into a full conflagration.

“Please Sir, may I come?” I gasped.

“No, Brandilynn. You may not.”

The hand massaging my mound lifted for an instant to deal a light, stinging slap to my clit. I offered a little scream as a rolling pulse filled my nether parts for an instant, nearly taking me away despite my master’s command against it. Agonized tears slipped from my eyes as I fought for control.

“Did you just come, Brandilynn?"

“No, Sir. Please, Sir, I really need to,” I sobbed.

“Keep that pussy working those fingers, girl. Harder. Faster.”

I gasped and rocked even as he drove into me, rubbing my mound again. I was in a delicious hell. God, I needed to come.

“Please, please, Sir. Please.”

He slapped my clit again, and once more I nearly lost it. I pressed my forehead against the hard wood of the table and begged myself, hold on, hold on, hold on. My hips continued to drum backward onto the battering ram of his cruel fingers. 

“Whose body is this, baby girl?”

“Yours, Sir. Please?”

Another sharp slap to the distended nub. My clit had decided these little darts of pain were the world’s greatest aphrodisiac. I felt it strain for the next blow, desperate to undermine my efforts to please my master.

“Who decides when you should come, Brandilynn?”

“You, Sir,” I ground out between clenched teeth. 

Slap. My pussy flexed in response. His calloused hand went back to rubbing circles against my mound. I hung on grimly.

“Please, Sir. Please, I’ll do whatever you want—”

Slap. Circle. Fingers plunging in and out faster still. “You’ll do whatever I want whether I allow you to come or not.”

Heaven help me, I was sweating in my aroused misery. I couldn’t think about that. I sensed the yawning abyss beneath me, ready to engulf me the second I gave the slightest bit.

Slap. Circle. Plunging. “Say my master commands me.”

“Oh, Sir. My master commands me. Please.”

Slap. Circle, Plunging. “Say it again.”

“My master commands me! Please, I’m begging you, Sir!”

Slap. Circle. Plunging. “Say it again.”


The torturing hands and fingers disappeared. “On your back, baby girl.”

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