Chapter 1187: Sir, your Bitchslut needs a good hard fucking!
Chapter 1187: Sir, your Bitchslut needs a good hard fucking!
Chapter 1187: Sir, your Bitchslut needs a good hard fucking!
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When Heather came back out of the bathroom with the tube of anal lube in her hands, Alan wasn't where he'd been when she left. Instead, he was standing in front of her full length mirror. But he wasn't admiring himself (his modesty wouldn't let him); he was more just staring through the mirror.
She paused momentarily in the doorway between her bedroom and her bathroom to admire her lover's body. To think, I used to think he was a nerd. Well, maybe he still falls into that category in school in some ways, even with that hunky body, but I've got me a serious case of nerd luuuuve!
She giggled at her silliness and just kept on staring until prompted forward by the tingling of her rear end and the itchy hot sensations deep inside her to get on with it. She came up behind him, where he could clearly see her in the mirror first, and silently handed him the lube she was carrying.
But instead of immediately cracking it open, he set it aside and pulled her over in front of the mirror. He positioned her exactly as he wanted her, feet apart, hands at her sides. He watched her watching him in the mirror.
He stood behind her and rested his hands on her shoulders. Leaning forward to whisper in her ear again, he said, "Do you remember what happened the last time I had you in front of a mirror like this, Bitchslut?"Updated chapters at novelhall.com
She shivered as the memories of that time in the theater room together flooded through her. She felt her hips buck momentarily before she could still them. She sighed happily and closed her eyes, her lips parting in a breathy sigh. "Yes, Sir, I remember."
"Open your eyes," he growled, commandingly. "Look at yourself. Watch yourself. Tell me, honestly, and quietly, what you see in the mirror and what you're feeling. And most importantly, HOLD STILL! I'll tell you this right now, you're not only being punished right now, you're also being tested. This is a test of your self-control, to see if you still have any left. Understand?"
She straightened up slightly and watched herself in the mirror as instructed. "Yes, Sir." She prided herself on her self-control and felt confident she could pass any test.
He leaned back away from her so that their bodies were no longer touching. He then reached around her arms hanging at her sides and cupped her breasts, squeezing her sun-darkened nipples between his thumbs and forefingers, teasing and rolling them.
Instinctively, she moaned and thrust her chest out into his hands, indicating her approval. Her eyes reflexively flicked over to look at his reflection, to see his reaction.
His fingers pinched her nipples cruelly as he hissed, "Eyes on yourself, Bitchslut, not on me. And did I, or did I not, just tell you to hold still?"
She looked at herself and was surprised to see the look of shock on her face. She straightened back up again, and as she did so he relaxed his painful grip on her nipples, but he didn't release them.
"Sorry, Sir. I just couldn't help myself."
"Exactly..." he replied, as if that somehow explained everything.
She wasn't sure she understood everything that he was implying, but she knew enough to realize that she'd already failed a very small test because she wasn't taking things seriously enough. She resolved to not be caught out of line so easily again.
"What are you thinking, Bitchslut? What do you see? What do you feel?" he crooned softly, as his hands started caressing her remarkable breasts again, gently, yet at the same time, possessively. "Tell me. It's important."
Taking a deep breath, which pressed her chest into his hands a little more assertively, she let out a sigh of pleasure before answering. "I see my lover's hands holding my boobs. It feels great."
"Is that ALL that you see? All that you feel? Nothing else?" Something about his tone of voice sounded disappointed, remote, as if he'd somehow been expecting more from her.
She looked at the reflection of his hands playing with her chest, watched as his fingers kneaded and squeezed the firm flesh there. Even as she watched him grope and fondle her chest, she felt renewed tingling between her legs. Her shaven pussy began to reawaken, to moisten itself.
"No, I feel something else. My pussy. My pussy is starting to get wet." Simply saying that, she felt it flood even more, as if it was rewarding her answer.
His fingertips gently teased her hard nipples. "Starting...?" he asked, as if not entirely believing her.
"Okay, um, not starting, like from the beginning, but, um, starting, as in, really getting going now."
"Really?" he asked, as if she might be lying. "Let's see if you're telling the truth, shall we?"
Releasing her right breast, he skated his hand downwards over her taut abs, teasing her with his touch. His fingertips took turns tempting her navel, stroking and poking into the depression there in her otherwise flat belly as if in imitation of a series of lovers taking turns, fucking her there.
She had to resist the urge to grab his hand to force it lower. She desperately wanted to cry out, "Fuck me now!" but she knew that if she did she'd fail the test. She didn't know what the test even was, but she knew it involved her having to show her self-control.
After a few more minutes of this sexy torture, she was delighted to feel his hand resume its downward plunge. But instead of reaching between her thighs and fingering her wetness as she'd expected, his palm settled over her pubic mound while his fingers splayed to the sides of her moistening labia inside her thighs.
"Keep quiet, Bitchslut..." he mumbled, "keep your voice down. We don't want to be discovered, do we?" The throbbing bass-heavy music could only cover up so much. She watched her damp hair go flying in the mirror as she emphatically shook her head. I'm not
gonna let anyone or anything interrupt us now, least of all my annoying parents! His cock is gonna slide into my ass pretty soon now, I can feel it!
He loosened his grasp, but kept a very commanding grip on her highly sensitized, private
areas. Just to keep her distracted, he started kissing and licking the back of her neck again. "Now, where was I?" he asked rhetorically, wetting a part of her spine with his tongue and enjoying the way it made her practically vibrate with the effort to hold still as he resumed mauling her chest and pussy. "Ah yes, needs. I don't know if you've heard or not, but as your Inner Bitch Tamer I am more than aware that Bitchsluts have needs. Very special, and particularly intense, needs. The problem is that some Bitchsluts have different needs from others, so it's not always easy to tell what their special needs are."
He nuzzled her ear, liking the way her breath came in short panting gasps, betraying her
arousal. "Can you tell me what you need?" he whispered.
Heather watched the shudder run through her body as she answered. "Fucking," she
whispered back, her voice dripping with lust, "Sir, your Bitchslut needs a good hard fucking,
and she needs it BAD! I'd prefer it in the ass, as you know, but I'll take it in any hole just so long as it's your cock giving it to me!"
"Ah yes, fucking. All Bitchsluts need their fucking. Lots and lots of fucking. Why, if they have to go without, even for just a few days, they become unhinged, deranged, a danger to themselves and to others. The question is though, do they prefer being fucked by real, meaty, Bitch Taming cocks, or do they prefer their plastic Bitch Training toys that can stay hard
forever if need be?"
As far as she was concerned, there was no contest. As much as she loved her Bitch Trainers, not a single one of them could ever hold a candle to a real Bitch Taming penis. "Real. Hands down, no questions asked, Sir, the real thing is always better. Always." There was no need for her to lie about that. Anal dildos were great, and the bigger the better,
but nothing could compare to how good Alan felt to her. Under his skillful hands, it seemed as
if her whole body was on fire. She felt tingles in places where he wasn't even touching her. The anticipation for what he was building up to was killing her.
He kissed her behind her ear. "Good. Very good." He nibbled on her earlobe, drawing a small
gasp of pleasure.
She felt her asshole throb powerfully; the itchy hot burning lust she felt in there was making it harder and harder for her to keep her hips still. She kept having flights of her fantasy of throwing him on the floor and raping him with her horny ass (if one could even use an ass as a
tool to rape with).
Alan was having so much fun that he'd gotten caught in a sexual fog, just like Heather. But
with her so far gone, he took the time to pull back a bit, shake his head in an effort to clear it,
and assess what he was doing. This isn't just about having fun, he told himself. I'm here for a purpose.
He tried to recall what the purpose was. Oh yes. The football players. Not only do I need to stop her from stabbing me in the back, but I need her help with them right away. I've gotta play good cop, bad
cop, except I'm the only one here so I've gotta play both cops. First, I'll finish getting her all worked up, and then I'll lower the boom on her.
He said, "I want to show you how good it can be, if you don't try to cross me and my friends.
Would you like me to get to know your ass a little better?" He shifted his position so that his throbbing erection could come to rest in the humid valley between her buttocks. The effect on Heather was immediate and electrifying. She choked back a sob as her body
threatened to betray her and collapse on the floor. The feeling of his erection resting in the crack of her ass was like tossing gasoline onto the open fires of her arousal. Keeping her eyes
on his reflection, she couldn't trust her voice to answer coherently, so she merely nodded emphatically instead. "Well, if that's so, then perhaps a little inspection is in order. Keep your feet apart and your
hands at your sides. And most importantly, keep quiet and keep still! This may take a little
while."
He released his hold on her and stepped away. Now it was time for him to unleash the surprise that Suzanne had suggested to him just before he left home. Heather missed his hands on her body almost as soon as he took them away, but then she saw
in the mirror that he was getting down on his knees behind her, even going so far as to get comfortable. She ached to reach back with her own hands, to pull her ass open for him to "inspect," but she knew now that she had to keep her hands at her sides and do as she was told
if she wanted him to keep going. Her entire ass was on fire with anticipation. She didn't know what he was going to do exactly, but she knew that she'd love it. When she felt his fingers grab her buttocks to pry them apart, she felt like crying for joy. When she felt a completely unexpected breathy hot wetness touch her asshole, she nearly pole-vaulted to the house next door.
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