“These have a good glow to them. A well-tempered ass is an obedient one.” He pried the cheeks apart and ran his thumbs down her furrow.
“No, please, don’t take me there,” she squealed. Her virginity meant more than her pussy. He’d promised her he would be kind.
He released her buttocks. “No. Not yet. But soon. You’ll need better preparation. Your first lesson is in patience. I’ve allowed you an orgasm. That is all you may take today.”
She peered over his shoulder. He’d retrieved something from his jacket pocket: a blindfold!
“Please don’t gag me.” Zara could tolerate being in the dark, but to be silenced was too much.
“Don’t worry. I like to hear your voice. Your sweet human accent. The words you will say while I fuck you. Those things will please me.” He slipped the blindfold over her eyes and she was cast into a thick blackness. “As for setting eyes on me. You will earn the right.”
Lying there, she listened to him undress. Little sounds that were made louder by the silence of the room. The only other noise was her breathless pants. She couldn’t hear him breathe.
“I’m going to chain your ankles to the bottom of the bed.
You’ve nothing to fear. I’m not going to penetrate you. However, my cock wants to get to know your body. The traditional account of Astra’s ordeal states that on her first night with Brynt, he touched her fully and explored every morsel of her being. I shall do this and as I do, my cock will exercise itself between your ass cheeks.”
He bound her ankles with cuffs. She didn’t know where he’d found them and she supposed it didn’t matter. She was completely vulnerable to his demands. The bed creaked as he added his weight to it. He maneuvered his body over hers, bridging her without touching, then he lowered himself. The first moment of contact had to be the tip of his erection. The bulb bounced along her spine as he dragged it down. It tickled and she couldn’t help giggling. Why couldn’t she control her stupid reaction? She was helpless. Could she trust the judge or was she about to find out he was more of a criminal than she was?
She should feel ridiculous, used, and degraded. However, it was part of her punishment to be humiliated in private, rather than in public. Nerves were getting the better of her, making her giggle. Another fleshy tip, this time she reckoned it was his nose. He nuzzled her hair and kissed the nape of her neck, then round to her exposed throat. Small pecks interspersed with nudges of his nose. Meanwhile, his hands glided down her arms, shoulders, and sides until they reached her waist. He hitched her bottom up higher and slid another pillow beneath her hips.
He must be sitting astride her, using his knees to take his weight. With her buttocks in his grasp, he opened her up. The head of his cock slotted between them and she held her breath. Would he dare to push his way into her virgin hole? She wriggled in protest and her lack of faith was greeted with a firm slap on her ass.
“Ow!” she hollered.
“Keep still,” he growled.
He kneaded her sore ass until she whimpered with the discomfort. It was effective as a small act of discipline and forced her to strengthen her resolve and lie still.
The mattress shifted underneath her as he spread himself over her body once more. This time, he let the shaft of his cock lie between her ass cheeks. He was thick and possessed a substantial girth. He pressed his cock down, forcing her buttocks apart to allow him access. With his warm breath on her back, he began to move. She imagined him swinging his hips, rocking them back and forth. His cock swung too. He used her furrow, making it a channel to fuck. It was painless and strangely satisfying, as if he’d awakened some secret erotic spot around her sensitive anus. However, he wasn’t holding back with his hands. He reached beneath her and sought out her nipples, tweaking them with his fingers. He interspersed these moments with the odd slap of her thigh or the rough handling of her hair.
Galen was making a point. He could be kind with his cock, control it for her benefit, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t his to use. The first orgasm of the evening had been hers. The next would be his.
Zara was sandwiched between his mighty body and the ungiving bed. She was hot, paralyzed by the bindings, and yet, his ceaseless movement electrified her. Not once did he pause to catch his breath or allow her respite. He had a hunger that surprised her. Yes, he probably wanted to fuck her properly and thoroughly, nevertheless, he held back from taking her fully. Galen magically expended his energy through touch. He kissed and probed, and brushed her hair to one side so that he could nibble on her earlobe. The palms of his hands briefly rested on her shoulders, pushing her deeper into the bed. All the time, he drove his cock between her buttocks, using the friction to excite himself to a climax.
He paused, juddered, and released a hot gush over her back.
The thick liquid slid down her furrow and into her slit.
Zara lay there and waited. He’d gone to bathe himself—she heard the familiar gush of water. When he returned, he wiped a cloth over her back and between her bottom cheeks, then he released her legs and removed the blindfold.
She blinked in the bright light. He’d re-dressed, although the clothes hung loosely on him as he’d not bothered to tidy himself. His roguish locks of hair were disheveled and his cheeks glowed pink from his exertions.
He leaned forward and released her wrists. “There,” he said quietly. “They weren’t too tight, were they?” He examined her arms. “They’re not designed to be like prison ones. I suspect,” he smiled as he rubbed her wrists with his hands, “you could wriggle out of them in an emergency.”
She probably could. They hadn’t been tight at all. She said nothing to confirm his suspicion. She understood what he meant. Yes, she could release herself if she had to; however, her punishment was about obedience and the willingness to accept whatever he chose to do to her. If she failed to submit, she flouted the rules of her punishment and she would suffer other consequences, she suspected.
“I’m going to go now. Bisma will come and bathe you properly, and then put you to bed. Tomorrow, while I’m at work you will be inked.”
“What!” she started. “Oh, no, you can’t—”
“Not a permanent tattoo. You must know inking is a requirement for the Vendu. Are you not a cultural exchange student?” He raised an eyebrow.
“Yes, but… what kind of inking?” She didn’t want to admit she was curious about Vendu tattoos.
“A special one. Temporary. It will last a few weeks. You’ll be inked across your back, around your breasts and inner thighs.”
Why those places? She groaned. He meant a smutty kind of tattoo. No doubt designs that would embarrass her. Perhaps cocks or things like that.