Somehow I maintain dignity. The most dishonorable sense of enjoyment comes from that violation, an arousal I can barely admit to myself. Yet even as I’m squirming and trying to shirk awareness of the instinctively subservient glee making my rigid member twitch, the empress’ command rings out again.
“I said no! You will accept, explore and even wallow in your most decadent urges here! The only honor left you is to feed my greediest needs!”
“Yes mistress!” I gasp. Almost before I’ve finished she begins turning that screw, expanding the foreign object she’s stuffed up my backside.
Even with my new mistress’ orders I find it trying to acknowledge the s****l excitement that roils me. The more I’m stretched open the harder I throb. Again the craving swamps me, that need for some devastatingly
