Chapter 34

Cal

I had never seen anything as hot as Grace Franklin coming as she looked up at me, face as red as her bottom, eyes wide at the overwhelming pleasure I had brought her with my oh-so-slippery fingertips on her clit and inside her, just a little—just to let her know where my cock would go. Then she did something even sexier, even dirtier: as if her submission had broken free from some dark place deep in her nervous system, she moved her head forward, eyes still on mine with a look of desperation.

She pursed her lips in the unmistakable shape of a kiss, and I couldn't help the smile that broke out on my own, because I could read her mind: she wanted to show me she had learned—had learned, in particular just now, to thank me properly. I lowered the rigid shaft of my penis, still masturbating her firmly between her thighs to make sure her orgasms kept coming. I let her kiss it, whimpering with the pleasure I gave her as she placed her little pecks on the head, still wet from her obedient mouth.

"Lick it, darlin'," I growled, and as she put out her tongue I raised my cock again. Grace lapped eagerly up and down, doing her best to repay me with the velvet softness of her tongue along my rock-hard erection.

I felt like my dominant instincts had reached some kind of pinnacle of erotic experience. I gazed into the gorgeous eyes of my future bride while she desperately licked my penis, trying to demonstrate how good a girl she could be. Part of me wanted to delay the consummation we both needed so badly, but the ecstasy her little tongue provided also heightened my arousal so much I started to think I might literally explode with lust.

Grace's body shuddered with another climax. I didn't hesitate, though I knew the adorable whine of protest and frustration that would come from my wonderful girl as soon as I took my hand away.

"Oh, no," she said, turning her pouting face back up to mine, "please… sir… please? Maybe… maybe you can put it in my mouth again?"

I stooped down, the smile on my lips widening even further, and then I kissed her with those smiling lips, though she tried to turn her face away a little, as if ashamed for me to kiss her there after she had pleased my cock with her mouth. I didn't allow that refusal. I kissed her hard and deep, my right hand fondling her bottom. She whimpered up into my mouth, and she wriggled her backside as if to beg for more attention from my hand.

I broke the kiss.

"Not in your mouth, Grace. You're going to lose your virginity now."

Her forehead creased deeply, and she bit her lower lip, looking into my eyes with obvious anxiety. Then she nodded quickly.

"Yes, sir," she whispered.

Grace

Cal straightened up, his eyes still on mine. My mouth felt different, after having a penis in it, after kissing and licking the penis, after Cal had made me kiss him on the mouth and he had seemed to possess me that way with his tongue as thoroughly as he had with his cock.

I couldn't believe I had said yes, sir like that. I had meant it, but I would never have thought I could just put it into words—my submission to my future husband's authority over my body. My whole body. My mouth, my pussy… my bottom.

Cal made it easy, though. I almost laughed at that idea, considering how much my ass still hurt, but then he had walked back around behind me, and I felt his hardness brush against my bottom. I moaned at the reminder of what he had done with his terrible paddle, the paddle that would be an essential part of my life from this point on.

He had trained me to give him pleasure, meting out punishments and rewards with astonishing skill. I didn't know whether to think of my defloration as one, or the other, or something different. When I felt the head of his manhood rub up and down my pussy, and then find the opening where it belonged, I let out a frightened little cry that seemed to come from all those ideas. Cal was about to teach me my most important lesson in submission. He would train me on his cock, to be a good girl and an obedient bride.

His big, strong hand rubbed my back. Inside me, just inside me, the head of his penis moved up and down, in and out a bit, getting me used to it, to the warm feeling.

"Shh, Grace, darlin'," he murmured from high above me. I bowed my head between my elbows, resting my forehead in the softness of the comforter. I closed my eyes, and I felt my body yield as if of its own accord entirely. I arched my back a little more and pushed backwards, though it made my face burn with the immodesty of it.

Cal moved his right hand to my shoulder and his left to my hip. I had a moment of tummy-crawling panic, and then I felt his hands tighten their grip and his hips thrust hard. The huge shaft inside me tore through the tender barrier of my virginity. I screamed with the flash of pain, but the scream itself seemed to make it begin to fade almost instantly. I felt the rough denim of Cal's jeans against my paddled bottom, I felt the fullness of my pussy with my future husband's rigid penis, and I whimpered softly at the knowledge that he had claimed me as his own.

His to fuck. His to use.

He started to move inside me, pulling his manhood out and then thrusting it in again. My body responded as much as the restraint of Cal's huge hands allowed. I moved my hips, but I could feel, thrillingly, how completely he meant to control me, so as to enjoy my vagina exactly as he pleased. He would choose the rhythm of his fucking, and he would choose the depth to which he pressed his massive cock inside the sheath nature had made for it between my thighs.

Cal growled in the back of his throat with every deep thrust. I shuddered at the sound. I could tell by sheer animal instinct that it represented pure, aggressive, dominant pleasure. Something about the way it rumbled all the way through his body, so that I could feel it even through the stout fabric that covered his muscular lap, told me he liked fucking me. A lot.

"So tight, Grace, darlin'," he said, the growl becoming words—dirty words that made me clench around him. "Such a sweet little puss."

Another climax, a smaller one, shot through me, making me buck against his strong hands. When I felt him restraining me again, more strongly, fighting me and easily winning the battle to keep my pussy exactly where he wanted it, yet one more orgasm started to build inside me, and I sobbed just at the foreshocks of its beginnings.

Cal spoke again in that growly murmur. He said, with a sort of politeness that at the same time reinforced his absolute mastery of my body, "I'm going to need to fuck you hard, now, darlin'."

I cried out, because I could sense how big the next climax would be, how intensely I would come on my master's thrusting manhood. I had thought he had already fucked me hard, but when I felt the driving of his hips, the surging of his cock inside me, become deeper and faster, I understood what fucking really meant—to a man like Cal, at least.

I screamed, and I came. I felt like a rag doll as my future husband slammed his rigid penis into my no-longer-virgin pussy, pressing my face more firmly into the mattress with each thrust. I felt the continuation of my punishment, the extended lesson in the way a dominant man uses a naughty girl after disciplining her.

Time stopped having a meaning: I seemed to become entirely the observer, letting my body feel the pleasure too intense, too mingled with discomfort really to enjoy—but in that lack of enjoyment lay a new level of submission that made me happy. I felt like I could see Cal fucking me, see the stern look on his face as he gazed down on his hardness, with the evidence of my defloration on it, surging in and out of my pussy—his pussy, from this moment forward.

When he stopped and withdrew his cock, I whimpered a little, but the sound seemed to come from far away. I heard him as if from somewhere in the clouds.

"I'm going to put it in your butt, now, darlin'," Cal said in a voice so authoritative that it sent a shiver down my spine. "And I'm gonna come in there. I want to make sure I claim all of you tonight."

Then he did something that made a sound I couldn't quite place. I looked back over my shoulder, my lower lip between my teeth, anxious about what I would see, and I realized the nature of the little noise: Cal had his hand in front of his mouth, cupped. He had spit into his palm, and as I watched he started to lower it. My incomprehension became understanding, and I felt my limbs shudder with shame even as heat spread from my suddenly too-empty pussy.

My face puckered in an odd kind of embarrassment, to have seen what a dominant does when he needs to get a girl's anus ready for him. I closed my eyes and turned my burning face back to the comforter as I felt my future husband start to spread the saliva over the tiny pucker of my smallest hole. I felt my forehead crease hard, because I noticed, in the racing thoughts of my roiling mind, that Cal had never felt more like the man I would marry than he did right then.

Just wait till he puts his cock there, the floating observer told me. Then you're really going to belong to him.

The idea, accompanied by Cal's finger entering my bottom hole, gently easing the narrow passage with his saliva, drew a deep sob from me. My hips bucked, my ass trying to impale itself further on the invading digit, as if my body couldn't keep itself from showing its master how badly it wanted to serve his darkest pleasure.

I felt a second finger press in. I moaned, bowing my head even further and pressing my face more deeply into the covers of his bed. I caught a faint scent of him, a hint of the aroma I had smelled much more strongly coming from his jeans as Cal had used my mouth. I pushed again, yielded, and a new surge of blood came to my cheeks as I realized that Cal had trained me to do that, over his knee; he had taught me to submit my most private place to his possession.

"That's it, darlin'," he told me, the praise bringing an embarrassed sort of pride to my chest. "Good girl. This is going to hurt a little, especially at first, so you can go ahead and play with yourself while you get it."

The contrast between his dirty talk, the degradation he seemed able to bestow on me so casually, and the caring in his voice and his actions, made me feel dizzy. Somehow at the same time I could love him for his gentleness and want his massive cock inside me, turning me into a filthy slut with his forceful aggression and his utter dominance over me.

That idea on its own, of the two men in one I seemed to have chosen to rule over me, made me thrust my right hand under me. I found the sopping wetness between my thighs, along with the soreness of my defloration. I rubbed my slick fingers over the sensitive lips, the wrinkly hood of my clit. I whimpered with pleasure, the shame—and the shamelessness—of masturbating in front of my accepted suitor only adding to the need.

"There you go, good girl," Cal murmured. "Rub that clit. Make your puss feel nice. I want you to come with me in your butt, if you can. That's good training, to get you used to anal."

I felt his thumb in the crease between my ass cheeks, tugging the right one aside. I rubbed, and moaned. I felt the head of his cock against the tiny flower, pressing. I let out a little cry of instinctive alarm, but Cal kept pushing, patiently and firmly. He moved his left hand to my other cheek, spreading my backside further and drawing another cry, of shame and violated modesty, from my chest.

"Oh… oh… please…" I whispered. "Please…"

"Shh, darlin'," he said. "Let me in."

He pushed harder, spreading my cheeks wide, and with a scream I felt his hardness surge into me. I rubbed my clit more urgently, my two middle fingers desperately trying to find the pleasure in the discomfort of the massive penis' invasion of my newly deflowered ass.

Suddenly, and almost without warning, an orgasm blossomed in me, and I began to buck under Cal's hands, writhing and crying out at the feeling of submission that spread through the entire area between my waist and my knees. All of it belonged to him, to train and to use.

His hands took hold of my hips, restraining my movement, keeping me where he wanted me. He started to thrust in and out, and I could feel the urgency of his need in the way he filled me, stretched me, mastered me with his thick, surging cock. I sobbed into the comforter, arching my back to offer my bottom more fully. My fingers rubbed and rubbed, and I had more of the little submissive climaxes—too many to count, but even so I could feel the pain of my most advanced lesson, of my shameful reformation. Over and over he filled my bottom with his hardness, murmuring softly and encouragingly about how good it felt, how obedient I was being.

"Sir… oh… Cal, sir…" I heard myself moaning. It seemed all I could say, besides, "Please… please… please…"

Abruptly, I felt a change in his rhythm. His cock, impossibly, seemed to get bigger and harder inside me. I cried out at the terrible fullness, and then I felt him pulse inside me, and though it hurt so much, the idea that Cal was coming inside me, claiming me fully, made the tears that dampened his comforter taste strangely sweet.