“Not finished. You’ll go home and write lines about how important it is you pay attention to the needs of the men who own you. I’ll give you the exact wording along with the number of lines before you leave my office tomorrow.”
And then they went back to eating, but Willow’s pussy clenched, and she knew the men would scent her arousal.
Conversation continued once everyone had finished eating, another twenty minutes or so before Kenny said, “It’s my night, little fucktoy. Head on up and wait for me on the red medallion.”
She undressed in the hallway, realized maybe she should’ve come upstairs early to shave. She always came back to human with hairy legs and pits.
But he was a wolf. He’d know that. He would’ve ordered her to shave if he had issues with body hair.
She stood on the medallion, naked and exposed for longer than she expected, then stood in full-on inspection pose in the playroom while Kenny gathered what he wanted — behind her, so she couldn’t see.
Finally, her stomach fluttering, nerves high, Kenny circled her, slow and deliberate, a cane in his hand, held down.
“To welcome you home properly, I figure on hurting all the important bits, and then using all three holes.”
He circled her again. Stood in front of her. Held the cane up for her to kiss.
She did, and without another word, he stepped beside her and the first strike landed.
Fire.
Second. Third. Across the same bruised line until her breath hitched and tears leaked.
Onto the gyno table, hands behind her back, grasping her elbows, pepper oil on her ass for lube, and then the cold metal speculum, which she of course had to kiss first before he forced it into her asshole, opened it wide, stretching her until she ached and burned even more than the pepper oil, raw heat building until the tears ran steady.
She was panting when he moved to her cunt — the light plastic flogger she had to kiss before he started tearing into delicate skin, quick and sharp. Unrelenting. The pain scattered like shrapnel.
The evil flogger landed again and again, over and over until her screams filled the room.
And then he sat her up at an angle, feet still in the stirrups, and focused on her tits.
She got a close-up look at the flogger when she had to kiss it, leather falls small enough to sting like fuck but heavy enough to bruise.
He flogged her breasts with vicious precision, the lashes coming again and again, her tits bouncing while welts formed and her screams filled the room.
She didn’t know which hurt worse: the biting kiss of the tails or the savage twist of the alligator clamps — sharp teeth, unforgiving metal. She scented blood when they went on, looked down and saw it beading around the teeth where metal bit into flesh.
The scent of blood only grew stronger when he beat her breasts with the flogger.
And then he unzipped and crammed his dick in her pussy. No fanfare, no teasing — just shoved his cock into her aching, abused pussy and used her.
She needed to come almost immediately, but when she asked for permission, he told her to shut her whore mouth and stop asking.
He put her on the fucking bench next, her head lower than her ass, and she tasted herself when he used her mouth.
And hisusecould never be confused with a blowjob. He fucked her face and throat. Hard and fast.
And then a cloth was crammed in her ass. Pulled out. A dozen times.
Lube, finally, and she realized he’d been getting the pepper oil out of her. Wouldn’t want to burn his precious dick.
As if he’d heard her thoughts, he shoved in without gentleness, without hesitation. Her body screamed, but her mind floated.
She was his. Used. Broken. Taken.
Later, much later, when he’d fucked her until she could hear him breathing hard, he came in her ass with a satisfied grunt, andfinallyremoved the damned clamps from her nipples.
She screamed when he yanked them off, and then again when he grabbed her nipples and squeezed, massaged with cruel fingers to wake the nerves back up all at once.
