Chapter 21

CHAPTER 21

A lice

I heard the snap of a top opening, and I knew with a flare of heat in my cheeks that it must be the cap on a bottle of lube. I shivered as I felt the cool lube drip onto my exposed anus. Lucas’ fingers spread it around gently, massaging the sensitive ring of muscle. My breath caught in my throat as he slowly pressed a finger inside, stretching me open.

“Such a tight little hole,” Lucas murmured, his voice low and husky. “I’m going to enjoy feeling it grip my cock.”

Heat flooded my face at his crude words, but I couldn’t deny the way my body responded. My inner walls clenched around nothing, aching to be filled. I pressed my burning cheek against the cool sheets, trying to ground myself as Lucas worked a second finger inside me. I felt my fingers tremble as I held the little cheeks that still felt sore from my whipping two nights ago.

“It’s going to hurt at first, ma chère ,” he continued, scissoring his fingers to stretch me further. “But you’ll get used to it. I’m going to train this pretty bottom so thoroughly, you’ll be begging for my cock in your ass before long.”

A whimper escaped me, equal parts shame and arousal. I squeezed my eyes shut and clutched my bottom more firmly, almost overwhelmed by the conflicting emotions swirling within me. Part of me wanted to protest, to tell Lucas this was too much, too fast. But a deeper, more primal part of me craved exactly what he was promising—to be used, trained, and molded into the perfect submissive for my dominant keeper.

As Lucas continued to prepare me, I became acutely aware of the delicate lace encasing my body. The bra cups pressed against my sensitive breasts, the sheer fabric allowing my hardened nipples to show through. The garter belt cinched my waist, emphasizing the curve of my hips. The stockings clung to my legs, their silky texture a sensual whisper against my skin with every tiny movement.

The lingerie made me feel simultaneously beautiful and utterly debauched. The pure white color spoke of innocence, of virginal purity. Yet the design was anything but innocent—the sheer cups barely containing my breasts, the garter straps that I could feel under my wrists framing my thighs, drawing attention to what lay between them. And those lovely, obscene panties, with their lewd cut-out, leaving me more exposed than if I’d been completely naked.

I felt like a virgin sacrifice, adorned in white lace for the pleasure of the man who owned me. The lingerie transformed me into a living fantasy—the blushing ingénue and the experienced courtesan rolled into one. I was Lucas’ perfect little fuck toy, dressed up in pretty wrapping for him to use as he saw fit.

A gasp escaped my lips as I felt the blunt head of Lucas’ cock pressing against my prepared entrance. Despite his careful stretching, I wasn’t sure I could take him. He felt impossibly huge, the pressure already intense before he’d even breached me.

“Relax, ma chère ,” Lucas commanded, his voice stern and demanding. His large hands took hold of my little ones and bent my arms behind me. The feeling of restraint sent shockwaves of arousal through my whole body. He imprisoned both wrists behind my back, in his right hand, while with his left he continued to guide his enormous manhood as he pressed its tip against my virgin anus.

I tried to obey, to relax my muscles as Lucas began to push inside me. But the stretch was overwhelming, a burning pressure that made me gasp and whimper. Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes as the thick head of his cock breached my untried entrance.

“Oh, God,” I sobbed, my voice muffled by the bedsheets. “It’s too much. I can’t…”

“You can and you will,” Lucas growled, his grip tightening on my wrists. “Take it like a good girl.”

He pressed forward inexorably, stretching me wider than I thought possible. The burn intensified, a sharp ache that radiated outward from my core. I bit my lip hard, trying to stifle my cries as Lucas slowly buried himself inside me.

And yet, even as discomfort bordering on pain flooded my senses, I felt an undeniable thrill of arousal. My pussy clenched and fluttered, desperate for stimulation. The fullness in my bottom was overwhelming, making me acutely aware of every nerve ending in that sensitive area.

Lucas paused when he was fully seated inside me, perhaps giving me a moment to adjust—more likely simply enjoying the feeling of having his cock buried in my no-longer-virgin backside. I could feel him throbbing within me, the heat of his rigid shaft searing my insides. My breath came in short, ragged gasps as I struggled to process the intense sensations.

Lucas began to move, slowly withdrawing before pushing back in. Each thrust sent a tsunami of sensation through my body. The burn had faded to a dull ache, giving way to an indescribable fullness that left me gasping.

As Lucas picked up his pace, I became acutely aware of the throbbing need between my legs. My clit pulsed with every thrust, begging for attention. I longed to slip a hand between my thighs, to circle that sensitive bud and chase the pleasure I knew was just out of reach. But I couldn’t bring myself to ask, shame and pride warring within me.

Lucas’ grip on my wrists tightened as he pounded into me harder. The lewd sound of flesh slapping against flesh filled the room, mingling with my muffled cries and Lucas’ grunts of pleasure. I could feel my breasts bouncing with each powerful thrust, the delicate lace of the bra rubbing against my sensitive nipples.

“You love this, don’t you?” Lucas growled, his voice rough with exertion. “Having your tight little ass fucked like the whore you are.”

I whimpered, unable to deny the truth in his words. My body was on fire, every nerve ending singing with a mixture of pain and pleasure. I could feel my inner walls clenching rhythmically, desperate for stimulation.

The ache in my clit was becoming unbearable. I squirmed beneath Lucas, desperate for friction against my throbbing clit. The movement caused him to sink even deeper inside me, drawing a strangled moan from my lips.

“Please,” I whimpered, my voice barely audible. “I need… I need…”

“What do you need, ma chère ?” Lucas asked, his voice startlingly gentle. “Tell me.”

Heat flooded my face as I struggled to form the words. “I need… to touch myself,” I finally managed, shame and arousal warring within me. “Please, Monsieur . My clit… it aches.”

Lucas chuckled darkly, the sound sending shivers down my spine. “Oh, does it now?” he purred. “And why should I allow that? You haven’t earned the right to pleasure yourself.”

A sob of frustration escaped me. “Please,” I begged again. “I’ll do anything. Just let me… let me come.”

“Anything?” Lucas echoed, his hips stilling. I could feel him throbbing inside me, impossibly hard. “Be careful what you offer, little one. I might just take you up on it.”

I nodded frantically, beyond caring about the consequences. “Yes, anything. Please, Monsieur . I need it so badly.”

Lucas resumed his thrusting, each powerful stroke sending jolts of sensation through my core. “Very well,” he said, his voice low and dangerous. “You may touch yourself. But you will not come without my permission. And when I do allow it, you will thank me for the privilege of orgasming while I fuck your tight little ass.”

He released my wrists, and I immediately slipped a hand between my thighs. My fingers found my swollen clit, and I gasped at the intensity of the sensation. I began to circle the sensitive bud frantically, desperate for release.

Lucas increased his pace, pounding into me with bruising force. The dual stimulation was overwhelming—his thick cock stretching my anus impossibly wide, my own fingers working my aching clit. I could feel my orgasm building rapidly, a tidal wave of pleasure threatening to crash over me.

“Oh, God,” I moaned, my voice high and breathy. “I’m so close. Please, Monsieur . Please let me come.”

“Not yet,” Lucas growled, his hips snapping against my tender bottom. “You come when I say you can, not before.”

I whimpered in frustration, slowing my fingers even as my body screamed for release. Lucas’ thrusts became erratic, and I knew he was nearing his own climax.

“Please,” I begged again, beyond shame or pride. “I need it so badly. Please let me come, Monsieur… please…”

I felt Lucas’ hips stutter, his rhythm faltering as he neared his peak. His grip on my hips tightened, fingers digging into my flesh hard enough to leave bruises.

“Come for me,” he growled, his voice thick with lust. “Come now, you little slut.”

As if my body had been waiting for his command, pleasure exploded through me. Wave after wave of ecstasy crashed over me as I came, my inner walls clenching rhythmically around nothing while my anus spasmed around Lucas’ thick shaft. I cried out, beyond caring how wanton I sounded.

“Oh God, oh God, thank you, Monsieur !” I sobbed, remembering his instructions even through the haze of my climax. “Thank you for letting me come!”

Lucas groaned, burying himself to the hilt inside me. I felt the hot splash of his release, filling me in a way I’d never experienced before. The sensation was so intensely intimate, so utterly degrading, that it triggered another small orgasm, leaving me trembling and gasping beneath him.

For several long moments, we stayed frozen in that position—Lucas buried deep inside me, my face pressed into the mattress, both of us panting heavily. Slowly, gently, Lucas withdrew from my tender bottom. I whimpered at the loss, feeling strangely empty without his cock filling me.

Lucas’ hands moved to my hips, easing me onto my side. I winced slightly as my tender bottom made contact with the sheets, but the discomfort was overshadowed by a deep sense of satisfaction.

Lucas stretched out beside me, pulling me against his chest. His fingers traced lazy patterns on my skin as we lay there in silence, our breathing gradually slowing. I felt utterly spent, my body limp and pliant in his arms.

“Are you alright, ma chère ?” Lucas murmured, pressing a soft kiss to my temple.

I nodded, not trusting my voice just yet. My mind was reeling, trying to process everything that had just happened. The intensity of the experience, both physically and emotionally, left me feeling raw and exposed.

Lucas’ hand moved to cup my face, tilting my chin up so I had to meet his eyes. His ice-blue gaze was surprisingly tender as he studied me. “Tell me what you’re thinking,” he said softly.

I swallowed hard, struggling to find the words. “I… I don’t know,” I whispered. “It was so intense. I’ve never felt anything like that before.”

A small smile played at the corners of Lucas’ mouth. “But did you enjoy it?” he pressed.

Heat flooded my cheeks as I nodded. “Yes,” I admitted, my voice barely audible. “God help me, but I did.”

Lucas’ smile widened, a hint of smugness in his eyes. Suddenly my mental state seemed to turn completely around, and I saw his picture in the profile Louise had shown me, heard him saying those things about traditional marriage.

And he just showed you that he believes in just that, didn’t he?

Lucas’ arms held me close, and it felt too good. My mind reeled. The intensity of what had just happened left me breathless, my body still tingling with aftershocks of pleasure. But as the haze of arousal began to clear, shame and doubt crept in.

I shifted slightly, wincing at the tenderness in my bottom. The physical reminder of what we’d done sent a confusing mix of arousal and revulsion through me. How could I have enjoyed something so degrading, so utterly submissive?

Louise’s words echoed in my mind, cutting through the fog of lingering pleasure.

“ He’s well known for his archaic views on gender roles. The man practically thinks women should be barefoot and pregnant in the kitchen. ”

I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to reconcile the man who had just given me earth-shattering pleasure with the chauvinistic brute Louise had described. But weren’t they one and the same? Hadn’t Lucas just proven how little he respected me as an equal by using my body so thoroughly for his own pleasure?

The lingerie I still wore seemed to mock me. The delicate white lace, once so alluring, now felt even more like a costume—a degrading outfit designed to present me as nothing more than a sexual object for Lucas’ enjoyment. I was acutely aware of the garter straps framing my thighs, the sheer stockings clinging to my legs. The cut-out panties left me feeling more exposed than if I’d been completely naked.

I took a deep, shuddering breath, trying to gather my scattered thoughts. The lingering scent of sex hung heavy in the air, a visceral reminder of what had just transpired between us. My body still thrummed with residual pleasure, but a creeping sense of shame was rapidly overtaking the afterglow.

“Lucas,” I began hesitantly, my voice barely above a whisper. “I… I think we need to talk.”

He propped himself up on one elbow, his eyes studying me intently. “What is it, ma chère ?” he asked, a hint of concern in his tone.

I sat up slowly, wincing again at the discomfort in my bottom. The movement caused the delicate lace of my bra to shift against my sensitive nipples, sending an unwelcome jolt of arousal through me. I wrapped my arms around myself, suddenly feeling terribly exposed despite—no, because of—the lingerie.

“This… whatever this is between us,” I said, gesturing vaguely. “It can’t continue.”

Lucas’ brow furrowed. “What do you mean?”

I took another deep breath, steeling myself. “What we just did… it was intense. And yes, physically pleasurable. But it’s wrong, Lucas. It goes against everything I believe in.”

“Alice,” he began, reaching out to touch my arm. I flinched away, and he withdrew his hand, hurt flashing in his eyes.

“No, please,” I said, holding up a hand to stop Lucas from interrupting. “I need to say this.”

I took a deep breath, trying to organize my chaotic thoughts. The silky sheets beneath me felt too soft, too luxurious—another reminder of how Lucas had tried to buy my submission. I shifted uncomfortably, acutely aware of the state of my backside and the wetness between my thighs.

I gestured at the lingerie. “This isn’t me. I’m not some… some submissive doll for you to dress up and play with.”

Lucas opened his mouth to speak, but I pressed on, afraid that if I stopped, I’d lose my nerve. “I know my body responded. I can’t deny that. But it’s just a physical reaction. It doesn’t mean anything deeper.”

Even as I said the words, I felt a pang in my chest. Was I trying to convince Lucas, or myself? I pushed the thought aside, focusing on the physical sensations to ground myself. The ache in my stretched muscles, the slight burn in my recently claimed bottom—these were real, tangible things I could point to. Evidence that this was purely physical, that it had nothing to do with real emotion, let alone the intellectual bond I had always told myself I would seek out in a lover.

I took another deep, shuddering breath, feeling tears prick at the corners of my eyes. “Lucas, I… I can’t do this anymore. I don’t want to see you again.” The words felt like shards of glass in my throat, but I forced them out. “You can take back all the money. I’ll find another way to pay for my studies.”

Lucas’ face fell, a deep sadness clouding his eyes. For a moment, he looked utterly lost, vulnerable in a way I’d never seen before. It made my heart clench painfully, but I steeled myself against the urge to take back my words, to throw myself into his arms and beg forgiveness.

“Alice,” he said softly, his voice rough with emotion. “Are you certain this is what you want?”

I nodded, not trusting myself to speak. Lucas was silent for a long moment, his gaze searching my face as if memorizing every detail. Finally, he sighed, a sound of deep resignation.

“Very well,” he murmured. “If that’s truly your wish, I won’t try to change your mind.” He paused, then added, “But please, keep next month’s subsidy. Consider it… a parting gift, if you will.”

I opened my mouth to protest, but Lucas held up a hand to stop me. “I insist,” he said firmly. “Use it to get settled, to find your footing without… without this arrangement weighing on you.”

Lucas’ eyes softened, a mix of sadness and resignation settling over his features. He reached out as if to touch my cheek, but stopped himself, his hand hovering in the air between us for a moment before falling back to his side.

“I hope you have a good life, Alice,” he murmured hoarsely. “And I truly hope you find someone worthy of you.”

The words hung in the air, heavy with unspoken sentiment. I could see the struggle playing out behind Lucas’ ice-blue eyes—the desire to argue, to persuade me to stay, warring with his respect for my decision. His jaw clenched and unclenched, the muscles working beneath his skin as he visibly fought to maintain his composure.

Lucas stood slowly, the mattress shifting beneath his weight. The late afternoon sunlight streaming through the windows painted golden highlights on his muscular form, softening the hard planes of his body. For a moment, he looked almost vulnerable, stripped of his usual commanding presence.

He moved with deliberate grace as he gathered his clothes, each movement precise and controlled. I watched silently as he dressed, unable to tear my eyes away from the man who had awakened such conflicting emotions within me. The rustle of fabric seemed unnaturally loud in the heavy silence of the room.

As Lucas buttoned his shirt, his fingers fumbled slightly on the small buttons. It was such a human moment, so at odds with his usual confident demeanor, that I felt my heart clench painfully. I almost told him to stop, to ignore everything I had just said… and then he was gone.