Page 86 of Dirty Discipline, Vol. 2

I was so turned on I was sure that one swipe on my clit would send me over the edge but also prayed he wouldn’t test me in such a way because I was sure that despite his warning I would come, and then what?

Focus, Mel, focus.

The harder and faster he went, the more I could allow myself to experience this as yet another drop into subspace. Yes, I hissed internally, fuck my naughty hole. I was almost delirious with need by the time he spilled his seed into my ass.

He rolled me onto my back and turned me around, so my head was now angled off the footboard and my long hair dusted the floor at his feet.

“Open your mouth and clean my cock with your tongue,” he commanded as I watched him knot the end of the condom he’d removed and toss it in the trash by the bed.

Oh my! No one had ever said anything so dirty to me before and a tingle ripped down my spine setting off a deep throb in my pussy. When I opened my mouth, he placed his glistening, still-hard cock inside.

It was so big but, at this angle, it slid down my throat with ease. “That’s it, little girl, open that sweet throat for me.”

I would have swallowed a ten-foot pole just to please him. Who the hell had I become? A giggle wanted to break free, but I repressed it. Choking to death on an enormous cock was not the way to die.

You’re still you. More self-talk, just a better version of self than you’ve ever experienced before. Milk it for all it’s worth!

Gagging with drool running down my face and mingling with my hair suddenly seemed like the best thing ever.

Master Clay snapped his fingers. “Stay with me, Melody.”

He gripped my hair and pumped in my throat the way he had in my ass, and my thoughts cemented right back on him.

I choked and gagged my way through until he came down my throat. When he pulled out, his gaze was warm, almost loving.

“You look fantastic with my cum on your lips, but I’m afraid we’ll have to wash that off.”

Clay scooped me up and carried me to the bathroom. He turned on the shower and stepped in with me still in his arms.

“Are you ready for your last punishment, Melody?”

“Yes, Master Clay.”

“Good girl.”

He stood me on my feet. Grabbing a fresh bar of soap out of a wrapper, he got the soap all sudsy. “Open, pet, time for you to get your mouth washed out.”

My expression must have told the story of my thoughts because his eyes hardened.

I quickly opened my mouth, and he placed the soap on my tongue and bade me close my eyes. I crossed my arms and stood under the stream of water, hating every second of the soap. It was all I could do to not gag and puke.

Clay turned me around and pressed me against the cold tile of the shower. The grout between the tiles was rough on my nipples and I had to turn my head so the soap wouldn’t go further in my mouth.

He parted my legs and while I stood still, Clay washed me from head to toe and then soaped my long hair removing all traces of gel, cum, and saliva. He moved me under the water to rinse and then put in conditioner and ran his fingers through the knots, making sure every strand was silky smooth.

With that done, he turned me around and worked the front of my body, running soapy fingers over my breasts. He told me to widen my legs when he moved his hands down my belly towards my hips.

He slapped my swollen folds and I let out a tiny yelp, dropping the soap.

He picked it up but didn’t put it back in my mouth. Instead, he tucked it between my ass cheeks and told me if I dropped it again, I would suck on a new bar until it had dissolved. I kept my battered buttocks squeezed tightly together.

“Open your mouth, Melody.”

I obeyed, and the water filled my mouth. “Spit.” I did and he repeated his instructions until all the soap was gone, but the disgusting residue remained behind. He pulled the soapy bar from between my cheeks and ran a soapy finger into my ass.

I groaned, leaning forward against the shower. Please let this be the portion where I get to come. But he turned off the shower, done way too soon to suit me, and dried me off with a fluffy towel.

He positioned me to face the mirror as he dried my hair. We appeared as smudged images because of the condensation build-up. As it dissipated, I could see more of us in the reflection. Clay picked up a brush and began making long strokes through my hair. I glued my eyes to the mirror as I watched. I’d never had a man brush my hair before, and not only was watching him do so intoxicating, but the gentle swishing strokes were hypnotic. My eyes were slowly closing as I relaxed.

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