Page 39 of His to Enjoy
The burn was overwhelming, the stretch almost unbearable, but beneath it all was that dark pleasure I’d discovered watching Ruth’s punishment. Each thrust felt like both correction and reward, pain and pleasure so intertwined I couldn’t separate them. On screen, behind us, Leah sobbed through her own anal claiming while her voiceover spoke of surrender.
“Tell me what you are,” Scott ordered, his pace brutal now.
“Your fuck toy,” I gasped. “Oh, God… sir, please…”
I couldn’t form coherent words anymore, only desperate sounds of need as Scott used me exactly how I’d secretly craved. Every thrust drove deeper into my punished bottom, claiming me more completely than Jacob ever had, than I’d ever imagined possible. My fingers dug into my own flesh, holding myself open for him like the obedient fuck toy I’d become.
“That’s what you are,” Scott agreed, one hand leaving my hip to tangle in my hair, pulling my head back. “My personal little slut who gets wet from watching other women be degraded. Who needs her ass fucked to remember her place.”
On the screen, Brian had finished inside Leah’s bottom, and her voiceover spoke of gratitude, of completion, of finding her truepurpose. I tried to match her words with my own thoughts, to understand why this felt so right despite everything I’d been taught to believe about myself.
“I’m going to come in your ass,” Scott announced, his grip on my hair tightening. “And you’re going to thank me for it. You’re going to beg me to use you this way again.”
“Yes!” I screamed, my body convulsing as another orgasm tore through me. “Please, sir, please fill me. I need it. I need you to?—”
He buried himself deep with a growl that vibrated through my entire body. I felt his release flooding me, marking me internally in a way that felt more intimate than anything I’d ever experienced. My arms gave out and I collapsed forward, only Scott’s hands on my hips keeping me from sliding completely off the sofa.
We stayed frozen like that for a long moment, him still buried in my thoroughly used bottom, both of us panting. On screen, the video had ended, replaced by a title card for the next episode. The silence felt heavy, charged with everything that had just happened between us.
When he finally withdrew, I whimpered at the loss, at the strange emptiness. I felt his seed beginning to leak from me, and the humiliation of it made fresh heat bloom between my legs. I started to stand, but his hand on my back kept me bent over.
“Stay there,” he commanded softly. “I want to look at what I’ve done to you.”
I remained in position, my face burning as I felt him examining me. His fingers traced over my stretched, leaking hole, and I couldn’t suppress the moan that escaped when he pushed two fingers inside, feeling his own release.
“Beautiful,” he murmured, and something in his tone made my chest tight. Not just possessive or satisfied, but genuinely appreciative. “You took that so well, Grace. Better than I expected for your first real time having your ass truly used.”
The praise made me clench around his fingers, drawing a dark chuckle from him. He withdrew his hand and helped me stand, turning me to face him. His expression had softened slightly, though his eyes still held that intensity that made my knees weak.
“Bathroom’s through there,” he said, gesturing to a door off the main room. “Clean yourself up, then come back. We need to discuss your work with Melissa.”
I walked unsteadily to the bathroom, hyperaware of how I must look—my hair tangled from his grip, my bottom sore and leaking, my whole body flushed with exertion and arousal. The mirror confirmed my suspicions. I looked thoroughly debauched, like exactly what he’d called me—a well-used fuck toy.
I cleaned myself as best I could with trembling hands, using the soft washcloths he’d left out. Every touch to my sensitive flesh made me shiver, my body still thrumming with residual pleasure. When I finished washing, I splashed cold water on my face, trying to regain some composure. But when I looked at myself again, I could still see the truth written all over me—in my swollen lips, my dilated pupils, the way I couldn’t quite stand straight.
When I returned to the living room, Scott had just emerged from another bathroom. He sat casually on the sofa, looking through something on his tablet. My dress lay folded on the arm of the sofa, and I reached for it uncertainly.
“Leave it,” he said without looking up. “I like you this way—just the stockings. Besides, we’re not done for the evening.”
I stood there awkwardly, naked except for my thigh-highs, unsure whether to sit or remain standing. The cool air made my nipples harden, and I crossed my arms over my chest instinctively.
“Sit,” he said, patting the cushion beside him. “And stop covering yourself. You have nothing to hide from me anymore.”
I lowered myself gingerly onto the leather, wincing slightly at the soreness in my bottom. He noticed, of course, and smiled with satisfaction.
“Tomorrow you’ll feel it even more,” he said conversationally. “Every time you sit at your desk, you’ll remember exactly how I used you tonight. How you begged for it.”
My face burned, but I couldn’t deny the truth of it. I had begged. Desperately.
“Now,” he continued, turning the tablet toward me, “let’s discuss this new assignment. Melissa has been developingHer Secret Gardenfor six months, but she needs someone with your specific background to help refine the voice. Someone who understands both sides—the New Modesty training and the hidden desires it’s meant to shape.”
The screen showed a production schedule with dozens of episodes already in development. My name had been added to several of them as ‘Consultant.’
“You’ll be working closely with her,” Scott explained. “She has particular methods for drawing out authentic responses fromher team. You’ll find her approach quite different from mine, though no less demanding.”
Something in his tone made my stomach flutter nervously. “Different how?”
“Melissa believes in a special kind of experiential learning. She’ll want to understand your responses firsthand, to ensure the edits and voiceovers capture genuine female desire rather than performance.” He set the tablet aside and turned to face me fully. “She’s quite hands-on in her research.”
