Page List


Font:  

The movement of my body, the wantonness and need I had just made so very plain—the heat I, to my mortification, did really feel to have my mouth used by this handsome minion of a criminal warlord—brought on Ivan’s orgasm. I suppressed the thrill of jubilation I felt in having forced him to a climax as he thought he forced me to pleasure him. I cried out, hearing the ambiguity in the noise and knowing Ivan, Georg, and Papa Nicolai would undoubtedly interpret it as submission to the violation they had perpetrated.

“Swallow it all, whore,” Ivan said. He had forgotten his ineffectual version of the voice, but it didn’t make a difference to me. I knew how to swallow theatrically, and to put a look of distress on my face as if I didn’t like it, even though the taste of semen had grown so familiar to me that I could actually enjoy the difference between my daddies’ flavors of cum. Ivan’s seed wasn’t really all that bad—I realized that it actually tasted a lot like Daddy Trevor’s, which I thought might be because Daddy Trevor liked vodka.

I noticed myself noticing that. Behind my expression of submissive woe I smiled inwardly. Ivan pulled his softening cock from my mouth and I realized Georg had stood up on my other side to make good on Papa Nicolai’s intentions for this little scene.

“I want to see you try to play with your cunt, girl,” he said as I looked up at him with wide eyes. His English was better than Papa Nicolai’s, and his face more attractive than Ivan’s. Also, I felt certain the slight accent that remained must be German—his shoulder-length blond hair and blue eyes seemed to confirm that.

He had dropped his pants and his briefs to his knees already, and he held a long, throbbing penis in his left hand as he put out the right to take hold of my chin.

“Show me,” he said, dropping his voice a precise minor third.

My jaw dropped, slackening in his grip, as I felt my body respond of its own accord, my bottom squirming against the hard metal.

The voice of authority… I’m attuned to him. He’s a… he’s one of my…

“Yes, Daddy,” I whispered as I sought my release in vain, whimpering at the faint sensations the chair provided.


Tags: Emily Tilton Romance