Page 30 of His Naughty Secretary

I’m sure you know what happens to girls who don’t offer their bottoms for fucking, you little slut, the distant whisper said. I let out a little whimper at its cruelty, and at the terrifying knowledge that I was the one talking—that I couldn’t help serving as Joseph’s ally in mastering me and bending me to his hard penis’ enjoyment.

I bent over onto my elbows, burying my face into the fine, soft fabric, inhaling deeply to steady my nerves. The scent of the comforter’s fabric seemed to mingle with the faint aroma of Joseph’s cologne, grounding me in the moment.

I could feel his gaze on me, a scorching heat that made my skin tingle. I thought I could almost feel his pleasure, too; how aroused a dominant man like my master had gotten at the sight of a naughty girl’s bottom presented that way, showing the marks of his discipline, her face down and her cunt and anus up.

His voice sounded from much closer than the foyer. He had followed me, quietly watching.

“Reach back and show me,” Joseph said, his voice a little husky, the words a potent mix of authority and expectation. The thought of his lustful eyes on my exposed, proffered backside sent a hot shiver down my spine, both shame and arousal flooding my senses.

With a shaky breath, I reached back, my fingers taking hold of the smooth skin of my buttocks. I whimpered as one of my fingertips caught a bruise. I hesitated, overwhelmed by the intimate act I was about to perform. Closing my eyes, I imagined Joseph watching me, his piercing blue eyes never missing a detail.

Slowly, I pulled my cheeks apart, exposing the jeweled butt plug nestled deep inside my anus. The cool air on my exposed flesh heightened my terrible awareness of the plug’s presence. In my mind’s eye I saw the gemstone winking in the soft light of Joseph’s opulent apartment, humiliatingly marking my bottom as his possession.

That moving, helplessly arousing image of my submission lingered, branding itself into my consciousness. Each second stretched into eternity as I held the position, waiting for Joseph’s next move, the tension thrumming through my body like a taut wire.

I heard his deliberate footsteps. I heard what could only be him shedding his clothes, the rustle of fabric a stark contrast to the silence enveloping me otherwise.

“Look at you,” he murmured, his voice dripping with dominance. “So eager, so ready for me. Look at that tight little cunt I gave such a pounding yesterday.”

My breath caught in my throat, every word a jolt to my senses. The comforter muffled the sound a little, but I could hear it all. He approached the bed, and I felt the mattress dip under his weight. I didn’t dare move, too aware of the jeweled butt plug nestling deep inside me, its cool metal a constant reminder of my submission.

“Spread yourself wider,” he commanded, and I obeyed, my cheeks burning with mortification.

The air shifted as he moved behind me. I sensed him reaching out, his fingers grazing my exposed skin before gripping the base of the plug. With a deliberate twist, he began to withdraw it. I clenched reflexively at the mortifying feeling.

“Relax, Ingrid.” Joseph’s voice was a low growl, steeped in authority. “You’re mine tonight. Every part of you.”

With a whining noise deep in my throat, I pushed, my cheeks hot as the sun. The plug slid free, leaving me feeling empty and exposed. I shivered as he set it aside and reached for a bottle of lubricant. The click of the cap sent another wave of anticipation through me.

“You’re going to take all of me,” he continued, his tone both a promise and a threat. “And you’re going to love every second of it.”

I felt the cold lube on his fingers as he spread it over the tiny entrance, preparing me meticulously. His touch was firm yet careful, each movement sending sparks of conflicting emotions through me. Humiliation clashed with helpless need, and I felt myself sinking deeper into an abyss of pure vulnerability.

“Tell me, Ingrid,” he said, his voice now a whisper that seemed to vibrate through my entire being. “Do you want this?”

“Y-yes,” I breathed, my own voice trembling. The admission tasted like surrender, and it thrilled and shamed me in equal measure.

“Good girl,” he praised, and I felt warmth blossom within me despite the embarrassment.

His fingers worked the lube into me, stretching and preparing, each movement deliberate and unyielding. My body trembled, torn between the rawness of the act and the undeniable pleasure it brought. Each touch, each whispered command seemed to pull me further into my submissive role, making me crave his approval even more.

“You’re so beautiful like this,” he said, his words wrapping around me like a caress. “Such a perfect little fuck toy for your master.”

I whimpered softly, the conflicting sensations building to a fever pitch. My muscles tensed and relaxed, caught in the rhythm of his ministrations. His dominance was intoxicating, leaving me helpless and needy, desperate for whatever came next.

“You’re ready for me, Ingrid,” he said, his voice now a dark velvet promise. “This is going to hurt, but that’s what naughty girls get. This is your real punishment for needing the wand today.”

“Oh, God,” I whispered. “Oh… I…” I swallowed hard, my whole body trembling with fear and lust. “Yes, sir.”

As he positioned himself behind me, my heart raced faster, the anticipation almost unbearable. His hands gripped my hips, steadying me, and I felt a strange surge of gratitude amidst the chaos of my emotions. Despite the intensity of the moment, the tummy-churning fear, there was an unexpected comfort in his dominance—a sense of belonging I couldn’t deny.

Then, with a mixture of dread and yearning, I felt him begin to claim me, my body and soul poised on the brink of an experience that would forever change the landscape of my desires.

Joseph’s hands were firm on my hips, his grip over my wrists making me feel both restrained and taken care of. I gasped as he replaced the plug at last with the head of his massive, erect penis, pressing it firmly against my tight little flower. The discomfort mingled with the forbidden arousal, making my body tense and quiver.

“Relax,” Joseph commanded, his tone brooking no disobedience. “Let me in.”

I tried to obey, focusing on my breathing, willing my muscles to relax as he began to push forward. The stretch was intense, almost unbearable, but there was a dark pleasure in the pain. My fingers clenched the comforter beneath me, knuckles white with the effort to remain still.

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