Page 113 of Ready For His Rule

“Kitten.” He modulated the word with gentle rebuke. “You know how this goes…”

“Relax, girl.” The British Dom sent some aid for his argument. “Fighting only makes it worse.”

But Tracy did just that, shoulders bunching as she blatantly resisted the urge to wield a full glare at the bloke. A moment before the temptation took over, another voice called out.

“You’re doing so well, kitten.”

Then another.

“Better than that. She’s fucking gorgeous.”

“Such a pretty, perfect thing.”

“Magnificent.”

Her body rolled as she pulled in a long breath. As she released it, everything softened for him. Not by a lot…but by enough. Franz angled his head toward the darkness, dipping a nod of gratitude to the supporters. Amazing, how a few words of praise went such a long way. If the whole world adopted such an outlook, they’d be retraining everyone on the team to harvest corn or herd goats instead of close-quarters battle and fast-roping into nests of hostiles.

Or wondering how the hell they’d gone through so much life before doing something like this.

Reveling in how it felt to peel back latex shorts, exposing their submissive’s silken ass to a room full of growling admirers.

“Bastard,” one of those devotees said, laughing it out.

“Fucking bastard,” another interjected, also chuckling.

“Sure you don’t want to bury your cock in that flower instead, man?” the ultra-low bass added to the argument.

To that, Franz swung back a meaningful look. You have no damn idea, my friend.

Really…the guy didn’t. Franz wasn’t even sure he’d steeled himself well enough for the sight, proved by his clenching fingers into the silky spheres of her ass, before baring the crimson bloom at their center. Just beholding that sweet fissure made his dick seep new milk, joining the juice he hadn’t spread on the plug yet, dripping into her hole like erotic nectar.

“Goddamn.” His grate hit the air a second before he touched the plug to her anus. She writhed, and the force of it rocketed through the crowd. “Relax, kitten.” He twisted the taper, pushing it past the sensitive ring at her entrance. “Breathe deep. Push back, then accept it in. This is going to happen. Don’t fight me.”

“Oh, pssshhh,” came the Domina’s dour scold. “Let her fight. I love a good fight.”

“No,” the Brit argued. “Just give it to her direct, mate. You’ve got enough lube for that pretty and two more.”

“He’s right,” said the Dom who’d first called him a bastard. “Plunge it in now. Nice and deep, so we hear her scream again.”

“She has a beautiful scream,” the Domina purred.

Franz let them debate, focusing only his steady penetration into her tight, rosy hole. With every new territory he gained, his Tigress snarled and keened harder. Her thighs clenched and shivered. Her body quaked and jerked. And yes, oh yes, her pussy leaked and glistened.

“Mmmmm.” He moaned the approval before slicking two fingers between her intimate lips. With the cream he gathered, he re-lubed her back rim. “Such a naughty, gorgeous little kitty. Feel how hot you are to grow this new tail.”

“It’s almost in,” observed his British friend. “Damn, that’s hot.”

“Damn right,” someone else snarled. “Giving me a few new ideas for my own little girl, man.”

Franz took a long moment to stroke praising hands up and down her back, reconfirming he was still listening to her, and vice versa. Though his subbie’s stunning head now lolled between her shoulders, everything from her neck down spoke a renewed vow of connection to him…fealty to him.

He was her master.

Her owner.

Her humbled, spellbound Dom.

“You like that,” he finally murmured, the words turning his throat into a cactus garden. “You like that a lot, don’t you, kitten? That soft fur, swishing. That hard spike, invading your ass…” He grabbed the base of the plug, determinedly twisting it. “Tell me, kitty. Good,” he crooned, as she mewled in faltering abandon. “Now show me—and them. Swish your ass like the shameless little pussy you are.”

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