Page 49 of Shameful Addictions

“I’ll remember,” she murmured.

“You will do more than remember. You’ll say it right now.”

“What?”

“Say it.” Mamba thrust the cucumber at her, an obscene gesture that felt like it should have been more offensive than it was. “Say it, slut.”

Charlotte reached for the cucumber, curling her hand around the full, tubular vegetable. She looked down at it, with its slightly tapered end, and wondered how it would feel inside her. Really, the only thing that made the cucumber different from her dildo was the little bumps covering its surface.

“Say it, Cuntflaps.”

“Fuck,” she said. It came easier than she would have thought. She almost smiled.

“And what are you going to fuck?”

“This cucumber,” she said, peeking up at him.

Mamba roared with laughter. “And everything else you see on the couch. Your choice. But you must use several, demonstrating for the camera each one. You must also cum at least once.”

Charlotte examined the cucumber a little more. At least it had been washed, its waxy coating removed. “Is that what the video today is all about?”

“The video is ‘Masturbating with Household Objects.’”

“Can I read my script?”

“There is none.”

“What?” she said, for the second time. “How will I know what to say?”

“You can do improv. You have done it before in your videos, before I took over.” Mamba shrugged and curled his lip. “Really, it shouldn’t be hard to figure out. You fuck yourself. You show the camera what it looks like and how it’s done. That’s the end of it. Do you need me to fucking write it down for you?”

Charlotte shook her head.

She’d never done anything like this herself, playing with things that weren’t meant to be played with. Maybe it would be fun. And, as Mamba had said, it shouldn’t be hard to figure out what to do. She had a hole and things to put in that hole.

Am I actually starting to look forward to this?

Orgasming made her feel good, at least.

“Am I going to wear my makeup again today?” Charlotte sat down on the couch next to the objects–her tools of the trade, she thought–and looked up at Mamba.

In answer, he moved to stand in front of her and lifted up one leg to thrust his crotch in her face. He unzipped his pants. The force of his bulging cock actually pulled the teeth of the zipper apart for about an inch as soon as his button was undone.

Was he that horny because he was dominating her, or was it for her specifically?

Charlotte caught her breath and squirmed around a little in her seat.

Mamba pulled his cock out and held himself in his hand. He started to tug and jerk on his throbbing erection, grunting all the while. His mouth opened, his lips parting. His eyebrows creased with concentration.

Charlotte felt her juices starting to wet her inner thighs. She squeezed her legs and a little tingling thrill went through her pussy. Her heartbeat picked up. Despite herself, despite the way she had been raised, she couldn’t help but react to the man arching over her. She watched the tip of his pulsating cock, precum oozing from his head, breathless in her anticipation.

Suddenly, Mamba sucked in his breath and slid his hand all the way up the length of his shaft, right up under his tip. A swift spasm shook his body.

Charlotte braced herself. The first jet of his semen still caught her by surprise, a white, jagged flash in the air. His cum hit her face, almost all of it covering her cheeks and chin. The excess dropped down to her neck and between her breasts.

Mamba backed off of her, breathing raggedly. He tucked himself back into his pants and straightened up. “There,” he grunted. “Now you’re ready.”

This time, she didn’t even bother trying to wipe it off. It wasn’t exactly an unpleasant thing to experience, anyway. His cum was warm, wet. There wasn’t anything particularly offensive about it. In fact, had she no choice except to give him the truth, she would have admitted to him that she liked it.

---