Mike spread his knees apart, nudging my shoulders as if to remind me of my place. I obeyed, letting myself sink deeper to the carpet, my skirt still rucked up and my ass still stinging from the spanking. The humiliation of it only made me want to please him more.
“Good girl,” he murmured, his hand finding the back of my head, guiding me without force. “Now use your tongue on my balls.”
My face went hot. I hesitated, but he barely had to nudge before I bent lower and let my tongue flick over the skin of his scrotum. It was so intimate, so obscene, I almost couldn’t stand it—but he made a sound, a low satisfied grunt, and I felt a surge of pride. I licked him carefully, then took one of his balls into my mouth, rolling it with my tongue. The shaft of his cock rested across my cheek, heavy and very hard.
I knew he wanted more. I wanted to give him more, telling myself that if I didn’t he would spank me again. I wrapped my hands around the base, squeezing gently, and took the head back into my mouth, trying to make it an even plusher place for my sponsor’s cock this time. I tried to remember what he’d taught me—use your tongue, keep your lips soft, breathe through your nose. I pushed down a little further, feeling the head hit the back of my throat, and I gagged, tears stinging my eyes.
“That’s it,” Mike said, voice thick now. “Take more cock. You’re my good girl.”
His hand tightened in my hair, but not cruelly. He let me set the pace, and I started to find a rhythm—bob down, suck, swirl tongue, pull back, then repeat. I felt absurdly proud every time I managed another half inch, like I was breaking a personal record. The taste and the scent and the heat of him overwhelmed every other sense. My whole world narrowed to this: his penis in my mouth, the rush of shame and pride as I serviced him like a dirty girl.
He let me work a while, then said, “Stop.” I froze, mouth still full of him, and looked up.
He met my gaze, then with his free hand reached down and cupped my face, thumb stroking my cheekbone. “Look at me,” he said, and I did—tears streaming down my face, lips stretched wide, but unable to look away. “I’m going to come soon. You’re going to put your lips right at the tip of my cock and sip my seed like a milkshake. Hands behind your back, holding your ass cheeks nice and tight. I’ll give you the treat you earned.”
CHAPTER 21
Laura
My face blazed with heat. My hands trembled as I obeyed, folding them behind my back and gripping my own sore bottom, feeling the base of the plug shift between my cheeks as I knelt at his feet. My knees pressed into the plush carpet, my thighs squeezed together, and every inch of my skin was electric with shame and anticipation. Mike wrapped his big hand around the shaft, stroking slowly, deliberately, bringing the broad head right up to my lips.
“Just the tip,” he said, guiding me. “Eyes up. Look at me.”
I made my mouth into a little o, barely touching the warm, vibrating flesh of my sponsor’s cock head. I felt it pulse against my lips. My gaze met his, and I tried to hold it, even as tears stung my eyes and my whole body shook. I gripped my punished bottom cheeks more firmly, a thrill of degradation passing through my whole body at the obscenity of the mere idea.
Mike began to stroke himself faster, holding the tip of his manhood right at my mouth. I realized with a strange, sudden jolt that this felt like the most exposed, the most vulnerable, the most seen I had ever been in my life.
“Kiss it now,” he growled, his thumb brushing my chin. “Your treat is almost here. You want to show me how grateful you are for this reward, don’t you?”
I nodded, unable to speak, pursing my lips to put a tiny kiss on the little hole, then opening my lips a bit more again, waiting, braced, desperate and mortified and so, so hungry for the approval in his gaze.
He let the tension build, his breathing getting ragged, his muscles bunching under his crisp shirt. Then, with a guttural noise, he put his other hand on my head to keep me where he wanted me, with the tip of his cock right between my lips. I felt the hot, salty flood hit my tongue. It took all my self-control not to flinch, not to pull away. Instead, I let it fill my mouth, pooling on my tongue, and swallowed it as best I could, just the way he’d taught me.
“That’s it,” he murmured, his hand gentle on my cheek now, guiding me to take another spurt, and another, until my mouth was coated with his seed. “Drink your treat, little girl. That’s a good girl.”
I swallowed, the taste strange but already familiar, the heat of it making me shiver. He pulled back, still holding me by the chin, and wiped a thumb over my lips, collecting a stray bead of semen and smearing it across my cheek. The gesture was so casual, so possessive, that I nearly whimpered with the shock of how much I liked it.
“Clean me up,” he said softly, and I licked him clean, careful to catch every drop, my face burning with the knowledge that this was what I was for now. When I finished, he tucked himself away and helped me to my feet, wiping my mouth with a napkin before kissing me softly on the lips.
“That felt lovely,” he murmured. “You’re learning very fast.”
He led me to the back of the jet, through a door and into a bedroom with an enormous bed, bigger than the one in my apartment, dressed in white sheets and pale gray pillows. The windows were shaded, but the room was full of the sunset light as we soared westward, and the walls were hung with abstract art that looked impossibly expensive.
“Take off your dress,” he said, and I did, lifting it over my head. When my vision was clear again, I let out a little cry, because Elena the flight attendant was standing there, her hands extended.
“Elena will put your dress away,” Mike explained.
I saw nothing but professionalism in the other woman’s eyes, but the idea that she could see everything—my bare, sealed pussy, my spanked bottom, the base of the plug peeking out between the little cheeks—it nearly made me faint with mortification. The tiny, knowing smile Elena gave, as if to say,You’re a billionaire’s fuck toy—I knew that the moment I laid eyes on you, so there’s no reason to be more ashamed because I can see you got spanked with a butt plug in your bottom…only made me blush hotter.
“Thank you,” I whispered, my reflexive manners taking over in the absence of my brain coming up with anything else.
“Of course,” she replied, taking the dress and moving to the closet to hang it up.
“You can go ahead and put the riding cushion on the bed, too, Elena,” Mike said. “Laura’s going to go for a little ride before dinner because she was a good girl.”
My face blazed. I held my hands at my side in little fists, working desperately not to cover myself because I felt that would only embarrass me further. The fact that I had no idea what Mike meant about theriding cushiononly made it all worse. But the next exchange between the flight attendant and my sponsor brought it all to a new level of humiliation.
“Shall I put the dildo in place on the cushion?” Elena asked, as if it were the most natural question in the world.
