Page 9 of Bought

The belt doesn’t land again after that. I take a deep, shuddering breath. The pain is sinking through my ass, burning on its own without fresh application of the belt. I’m still being held in place though, those strong, corrupt hands keeping me down.

There’s a sudden silence. And then his hand drifts lightly over the skin he just punished. His fingers rub over the welts that have been left in the belt’s wake. His touch is familiar, and more soothing than it should be.

“I’ve seen your browser history,” he murmurs in my ear. “I know what kind of videos you watch, Casey. I even know the one you watch the most.”

His voice sends a tremor through me. I’m not sure which one I watch the most, but I know the ones I search for aren’t in a generic romantic vein. They’re… oh, fuck.

As I come to the realization of just how much he knows, his fingers are finding my pussy, parting my lower lips and finding the little hole at the core of me. I should be dry and tight. The moment he touches me there, I feel how wet I am. The pain of the belt distracted me entirely from my reaction, but now there’s no doubt that I am soaked. So wet that he slides a finger casually inside me without almost any resistance at all. I’m being fingered in a police station. A billionaire is exploring my pussy and there’s nothing I can do about it—worse, there’s nothing I want to do about it. After all the pain, the pleasure is intensified. The fact that this is done so casually makes it worse and hotter at the same time. Ethan is no nervous nerd fumbling around my pussy. He’s in total control of me, and my cunt, and he’s making sure I know it.

“I got the idea for the belt from it,” he says, pushing his fingers in even deeper. “Underneath this innocent exterior you like to project, you’re a different kind of creature, aren’t you, Casey.”

I make a little whimpering sound. What can I say to that? He’s right, of course. He’s made sure that he’s right. He doesn’t know me at all, but he knows all the facts he needs to know. He has the data. And in this world, information is king. Even when it comes to lying over a table with my pussy spread around the digits of a man I loathe.

“You’re wet, Casey.” He makes the observation as his fingers twist inside my soaked hole. “You needed that belting, didn’t you. Needed to feel some real discipline.”

“No…” I moan.

“Yes,” he replies. “You absolutely do. I’ve seen enough of your life to know what you’re like. You’re rude, and you’re impulsive, and you’re independent because you can’t be trusted to work to anyone else’s standards. You need someone like me to keep you in line whether you like it or not. You’re going to do well with me, Casey.”

As he speaks, he slides his fingers in and out of me with a casual stroke. My pussy is gripping his fingers, trying to draw them in. It’s been months since I last got laid and he’s awakened something in me I usually try to forget about and deny.

I don’t want to want to be dominated. Especially not by him. But he is breaking down my defenses. He is making me want everything I don’t want to want.

“Do you know what I’m going to do to you next, Casey?” His voice is rich and powerful as he purrs the question.

“What?” The word escapes me in a gasp.

“I’m going to fuck you,” he says. “Because that’s what you need. Your ass is red, your pussy is dripping wet, and you want this.”

“I don’t!” My denial is not convincing, even to my ears.

“Let her go, boys.”

The cops let go of me. I could stand up if I wanted. But I don’t. I stay there with my ass arched, his finger toying lightly with my clit. I stay right where he wants me. Right where he put me. I stay with my legs spread, my pussy exposed, and I stay even when he pulls his fingers free of me and I feel the thick, bare head of his cock pressing between my lower lips, opening my pussy up.

“You’re being a good girl,” he croons gently as he surges slowly forward. “Keep this up and you might even earn an orgasm.”

“Oooooo…” I gasp what might have been a refusal, but is a low cry of pure desire as my inner walls are parted by his thick cock. Ethan Keller is well endowed. His hardness plunges slowly inside me, making me feel every inch of him.

I can barely believe this is happening, but it is happening. I am being fucked by Ethan Keller. His cock is splitting me open, finding the deep, hot, wet parts of my body. I am tight, and he is large, but he works his cock into me with surprising gentleness. His hands slide over my hips and run up my back. He finds the hair at the very base of my head and takes a handful of it.

“Good girl,” he praises again, urging his cock nice and deep inside me.

I am being fucked by Ethan Keller, and I like it. My wet walls grip him tightly. He knows how to fuck. He’s not jabbing at me, or rutting like a mad jackhammer. He knows how to roll his hips to make his cock find every part of my pussy, how to push all the way in and hold himself there and let my pussy work against him because I can’t stand to be still with his hot, thick rod inside me.

In minutes, he takes me from whimpering denial to outright orgasmic moaning, my hips rolling, my back arching so my hips are higher, letting his cock go even deeper inside me.

“You haven’t been fucked properly before, have you,” he purrs softly. “Poor thing. No wonder you’ve got such an attitude.”

His words remind me what’s happening. Remind me that I hate him.

“Fuck you.”

“No, fuck you,” he growls.

He pulls partway out of me and then slides forward in a powerful surge. Now he is fucking me hard, using my hair like reins as he jerks my body back on his dick. He is using me and I am screaming with pleasure, my legs spreading wider to let him slam into my pussy and against my ass.

Ethan rides me long and hard, fucking me with pure abandon, his cock jack-hammering inside my pussy. He’s right. I have never been fucked like this before. The table is bolted to the floor beneath me, but it is banging against its bolts, loosening with every rough thrust.

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