1. The Devil's Pact Slave Chronicles 11: Sally, The Gift


    Date: 9/17/2015, Categories: Dark Fantasy, BDSM, Domination/submission, Exhibitionism, Female/Female, Male/Female, Voyeurism, Author: mypenname3000, Rating: 0, Source: sexstories.com

    Penny added, “If he calls you Mary, pretend to be the Goddess and that you're helpless against his strength.” “I understand,” I answered. “Ready,” Mercedes asked. “I am,” I declared as she threw the door open. The cabin was the size of a small bedroom tucked into the tail of the plane. There was a bed, neatly made, with a dark-blue comforter and an ebony wood frame. Dean sat at a desk working at a laptop, a ledger spread out next to it along with a picture of a beautiful, young woman with lustrous and thick, black hair. Alice Perry, the missing wife. “I am your Goddess, Mary!” I declared, hoping my training and instincts were right. “On your knees!” Dean spun me around, eyeing me. I held my head up confidently as the fire burned in his blue eyes as he stared at me. “Whore! She's gone because of you!” “How dare you call me that!” I huffed. Roleplaying was heavily emphasized in our training. “You helped her run off! I know it was you, bitch! You always help her!” I tossed my now auburn hair. “Of course I helped her. She's my friend. And—” My words were cut off as he lunged at me, his hand gripping my throat. Panic momentarily shot through me, but I suppressed it. His hand squeezed, choking me. He was stronger than he looked, his grip iron. I struggled, just enough to excite him, my hands trying to pry his fingers off as my breath rasped in my throat. “Whore!” He spun me around and threw me onto the bed. I bounced, sprawling in a mess of limbs, my now auburn hair falling ...
    across my face. I struggled to push my hair out of my face. I put on a look of fear. “You can't be doing this,” I protested, letting my voice quiver. My roleplay coach would be proud of me. “I'm your Goddess!” “You're the dirty whore that corrupted my wife,” he snarled, unbuttoning his pants. “I'll show you how whores are treated!” His cock was hard, slim, with a bulbous head that beaded with precum, jutting out of his unzipped slacks. He let the pants slide off his skinny legs, and kicked them off, before advancing with like a hungry shark at her. “What're you going to do?” I quailed, shrinking against the pillows piled against the ebony headboard. He practically leaped at me, his body pressing atop mine. I struggled, flailing my arms. He grabbed them, pinning them to the wall above me as he loomed over me. I gasped for breath, my tits heaving, dotted with freckles. He settled between my thrashing thighs, his cock coming closer and closer to my wet pussy. This was exciting. I was being used for my Master's pleasure. All my training, the hard work and long nights practicing was worth it. His cock speared me. Rough, powerful, stabbing into my sheath with violence. “No!” I pleaded. “Take it out, it hurts!” He ignored me, stabbing his cock over and over into my cunt. His shaft wonderfully rubbed on all my sensitive flesh. It was hard keeping my passion out of my voice. It was too soon to sound like I enjoyed it. I needed to struggle longer before I submitted. “No, stop!” I screamed, ...
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