Wait, did he just say at home?
I don’t have time to dwell on that, because my climax hits me then and I scream as my body begins to shake and shudder while my pussy squeezes hard around his cock. A moment later, he cries out and I feel him pulsing inside me.
I can’t believe my boss fucked me.
Well, I should say I can’t believe my boss spanked me. I threw myself at him for the fucking part.
If that weren’t shocking enough, I know for a fact I will let him fuck me again and again and again as many times as he wants to. He doesn’t know it yet, but my body belongs to him now and I can’t wait for him to use it another time.
Holy hell, how did that happen?
CHAPTER TWO
I cry out as the first spank lands on my bare ass. Because my ass is still sore from the spanking yesterday, the pain from this spank is even more intense and I begin to sob after only the third spank.
I receive this spanking because I am ten minutes late to work today and when Sir warns me not to let it happen again, I tell him that if he had given me a ride with him instead of making me take the bus, I wouldn’t have been late.
It was a bratty thing to say. Sir leaves for work at seven in the morning. There’s no way I’d get up early enough to shower and dress in time for him to take me to work.
Well, that’s not entirely true either. I’m up at six every morning for the past week and showered by six-thirty so that Sir can fill my pussy before he leaves for work. It’s just that I usually go back to sleep after and wake up again at eight to make it to work by nine.
That will change, it seems. After the final spank lands, Sir says, “You will no longer go back to bed after I fill you in the morning, little one. You will clean your room and your bathroom and wash the breakfast dishes before you leave for work, or you will receive a spanking. Do you understand?”
“Yes, Sir,” I sob.
I live with Sir now. At least until my internship is over. I still have the apartment, but I haven’t been there since the first day with Sir a week ago. After work that day, he drives me to the apartment only long enough to pack a suitcase. He tells me I will live with him where he can teach me respect full-time until I learn to be respectful on my own.
I think of him as Sir and not Kevin now. It seems strange when I first catch myself thinking of him like that, but now it doesn’t seem strange at all. In fact, I kind of like it.
I even like that he spanks me. I know it sounds crazy, and I don’t really love the fact that the spankings are incredibly painful. What I love is that after he spanks me, I feel calm. I’m not angry or frustrated about anything and I don’t feel guilty or down on myself either. It’s like knowing that I’ve already suffered for my poor behavior makes it so that I don’t have to dwell on it anymore. For my ass cheeks’ sake, however, I hope that I learn to stop rebelling sooner rather than later.
Of course, the spankings aren’t the only thing Sir does that I love. While I’m still bent over the couch, he thrusts into me and as usual, my pussy is wet and ready for him as a side effect of the spankings. The pain from the spankings intensifies the pleasure of his thrusts and I decide that that’s another thing I love about the spankings.
“Oh God, Sir!” I cry out. “Oh, fuck me, Sir! Oh God, yes!”
He grabs a fistful of my hair and pulls back, yanking me up and causing me to cry out from the new pain. At the same time, my back arches, and his thrusts become more intense, driving me closer and closer to climax until—
“Oh God, Sir, I’m cumming!” I cry as my body shatters around him, spasming and folding and squeezing around him as he continues to thrust hard and fast into my shuddering pussy.
After a few more minutes, he cries out and I shout, “Yes, Sir!” and grind my hips crazily on him.
He thrusts deep into me and stays there as his cock pumps inside me. When he’s finished, he pulls out and says, “You need to learn to be responsible for yourself and not rely on others to hold you accountable. When the baby comes, you will have no choice but to be responsible, if not for your sake, then for our child’s.”
“Yes, Sir,” I say without thinking about it.
Then I think about it.
Our child? Sir wants to get me pregnant?
Even as I think about it, it makes sense. He lets me suck and stroke his cock, but he never finishes in my mouth. In fact, he never finishes anywhere but my pussy. He never wears a condom either, and I’m definitely not on birth control.
He wants me to carry his child.
The thought should terrify me, but it doesn’t. Instead, it thrills me to no end.
That makes no sense at all. Do I want this older man to get me pregnant?
Do I want to have a child, pretty much guaranteeing that my time will never belong to me again?