I whimpered at the crude words but continued, my tongue working over every inch of skin I could reach while he pleasured himself above me. The position made me feel impossibly submissive, impossibly owned, and my pussy throbbed with frustrated need behind its seal.
“I’m going to come on your face,” Mike said, his voice tight. “Stay still.”
He put out his left hand to enforce the command, his fingers twining in my hair. My eyes flew up to meet his, wide with shock and mortification. On my face? But before I could process the command, his hand moved faster, his breathing growing ragged, and then I felt the first hot spurt hit my cheek.
I gasped, flinching slightly, but forcing myself to hold still as he’d commanded. Another pulse landed on my nose, then my other cheek, warm and thick and utterly degrading. Mike stroked himself through the final pulses, and I felt more of his seed land on my chin, my forehead. When he finally finished, his hand gentled in my hair, and I stayed frozen on my knees, hardly daring to breathe. The warm fluid clung to my skin, sliding slowly down my cheeks, and I felt tears prick at the corners of my eyes.
Part of me—a shameful, traitorous part—felt proud. I’d done this to him. I’d made my sponsor climax, gotten him so aroused he’d marked me with his release. The thought sent a confusing rush of satisfaction through my chest even as my face burned with mortification.
But another part of me just felt degraded. Used. His seed was on my face—actually on my face—and I could smell the masculine musk of it, could feel the cooling trails it left on my skin. I wanted to wipe it off, wanted to run to the bathroom and scrub myself clean, but his hand was still in my hair and I didn’t dare move without permission.
“Beautiful,” Mike murmured, and I heard genuine appreciation in his voice. “You look absolutely beautiful like this, sweetheart.”
The praise made my stomach flutter despite everything. Despite the humiliation, despite the degradation, some part of me preened at his words. Some part of me wanted to be beautiful for him, even like this.
His hand released my hair and moved to cup my cheek, his thumb smearing his seed across my skin in a gesture that felt almost tender. “You pleased me very much tonight, Laura.”
The words made warmth bloom in my chest, and I wanted to hate myself for it. For wanting his approval so desperately. For caring whether I’d satisfied him after everything he’d put me through.
“You may clean yourself up now,” Mike said, stepping back and pulling his briefs and pants up with efficient movements. “And when you’re done, come back here. The plug stays in.”
I stood on shaky legs and fled to the bathroom, my face burning. In the mirror, I looked wrecked—my hair a mess, my makeup smeared, and his seed marking my face in thick white streaks. The sight made my stomach clench with fresh mortification, and I grabbed a washcloth with trembling hands.
The warm water felt good against my skin as I cleaned myself, but I couldn’t stop my mind from replaying what had just happened. How I’d knelt before him. How I’d kissed his cock and licked his balls while he pleasured himself. How I’d held still while he marked me with his release.
How I’d liked it, some dark part of me whispered. How it had made me wet behind the horrible seal, how my body had responded with desperate arousal even as my mind screamed in protest.
When I finally felt clean enough, I dried my face and forced myself to return to the bedroom. Mike was sitting on the edge of the bed, fully dressed now, his expression calm and composed like nothing unusual had happened. Like he hadn’t just shot his seed all over the face of an innocent young woman.
“Kneel,” Mike said, his voice gentle, but leaving no room for argument.
I lowered myself to my knees in front of him, my hands folded in my lap, my gaze fixed on the floor. The plug in my bottom made the position intensely uncomfortable, a constant reminder of what he’d put there, what he’d made me do.
His hand came to rest on my cheek, warm and surprisingly tender. I couldn’t help but lean into the touch slightly, craving the comfort even as shame flooded through me at how desperately I needed it.
“You’re going to sleep with the plug in your bottom tonight,” he said, and his thumb stroked across my cheekbone. “But you may take it out in the morning and clean it thoroughly.”
The thought of sleeping with it made my stomach flip. All night. I’d have to feel it all night, be aware of it every time I shifted position, every time I rolled over. But I nodded, not trusting my voice.
Mike’s hand moved to cup my chin, tilting my face up so I had to meet his eyes. Those dark eyes that saw too much, that knew exactly what I was feeling even when I tried to hide it. He leaned down and kissed me, his lips moving against mine with surprising gentleness. The kiss was soft, almost chaste compared to everything else that had happened tonight, and I felt something warm unfurl in my chest.
When he pulled back, his expression was serious. “You are not to play with yourself without permission,” he said, his voice firm. “Do you understand me, Laura? That includes squeezing. You know I can see that, thanks to your sensor, and I’m going to set the app to alert me if you start to stimulate your pussy.”
I nodded again, my face burning.
“Use your words.”
“Yes, sir,” I whispered. “I understand.”
“If you disobey me, you’ll be severely punished.” His thumb traced my lower lip. “The spanking you got tonight will seem gentle compared to what I’ll do if I catch you pleasuring yourself without permission. Do you understand?”
My throat went dry. “Yes, sir.”
“Good girl.” He kissed me one more time, quick and possessive, and then he stood. “I’ll see you soon, sweetheart.”
I stayed on my knees as he walked to the door, my whole body trembling. I heard him pause in the doorway, and when he spoke again his voice held warmth that made my chest ache.
“You pleased me greatly tonight, Laura. I’m very proud of you.”
