Buying the Virgin

Chapter 41: The Girl Who Sold Herself - Chapter Forty-One



Chapter 41: The Girl Who Sold Herself - Chapter Forty-One

“So, Charlotte,” says my Master, “the choices are: “Do you want to fuck now? Or wait a while, until

Michael returns, to make love?”

Did he have to say it like that?

Something inside me crumples. I swallow hard, looking down, refusing to meet my Master’s face, as

my eyes well.

“Charlotte what’s wrong?” His voice is sharp, then with one finger, he tilts up my chin, forcing me to

look him in the face. I fight back tears. I will not cry in front of my Master. But his face softens.

“Charlotte. What’s wrong? Talk to me.”

I don’t speak. I just stand there, chewing my lip, resisting the pricking at the back of my eyes.

He takes a breath. I can almost see him replaying the last minute or so in his head. Then he stares up

at the ceiling.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said it like that, should I?”

He releases his grip on my wrists but keeps me caged against the wall, by his body.

“Charlotte. Do you really believe, that I don’t feel anything for you?”

My voice is small. “But you never have said so, Master. Not once.”

“And I need to?” He does not smile. His eyes are depthless, dark. “Charlotte, say something. Talk to

me.”

“I’m not looking for sunset and rainbows, Master. I know that was never in the deal. How could it be?

I’m just the girl you bought. But….”

“But...?” Ccontent © exclusive by Nô/vel(D)ra/ma.Org.

“But…. I want to feel that I’m more to you than just someone you have sex with….”

Now he looks exasperated. “Charlotte. If all I wanted, was someone to ‘have sex with’, as you put it, I’d

still…. Michael and I would still… be visiting the clubs several times a week, as we did before you

entered the picture. We were never short of choice. Without wishing to blow my own trumpet, l, and

Michael, are pretty good at what we do, and neither of us is bad looking. We always found what we

wanted, when we went looking….”

Still, I say nothing. What do I say?

“……. And these days, we don’t go looking…”

He sighs, his voice gentle, soft. “I’m sorry if I upset you. I didn’t mean to.” He strokes a lock of hair

behind my ear, then, wrapping his arms around me, he pulls me to him and kisses me.

The kiss is deep, long, passionate… impassioned…. His hands curve to the small of my back, up

across my spine and into my hair.

My Master has never touched me like this before. For the thousand times he has kissed me, his kisses

have been sexual, or erotic, warm, loving, tender, even fatherly at times; but never, soul-searingly

passionate.

The sheer fervour of his kiss sets my spine tingling, sending goosebumps skittering over my skin. His

heart is hammering against me, matching my own, as it batters the inside of my chest.

Ye gods… It’s all a front. He’s in love with me!

When he breaks off, mainly I think, because he needs to breathe, I look up into his face. Pupils wide,

his already dark eyes are almost black.

Shaking my head in confusion, “But why, Master?”

Sighing again. “Charlotte. I’m older than you; a lot older. I took your virginity. I can’t take your life from

you.”

“Master, I don’t understand you.”

Stroking my cheek, he says, “You are young, beautiful, intelligent, courageous. You’re doing well at

college. In a few years, you will be qualified, and the world will be your oyster. It would be very wrong of

me to entrap you. After all, I’m just the man who bought you. So…., we play our games and I try to

keep our…. complicated…. relationship…just fun.”

Of course he fuckin’ loves me….

And now, he kisses me again. His breathing is juddering and jarring, but this is not sexual. it is sheer,

unalloyed craving.

What have I unleashed?

And I know that I must deal with this……

I give him my brightest smile. “You know what, Master.?”

He tilts his head, his eyes questioning.

“I’d love to fuck.”

His mouth twitches in a long, slow smile, and he kisses me again, softly, on the forehead. “Thank you.”

Then he laughs, grabs my wrists again, and almost throws me over the back of the settee. Head

dangling down, my skirt is pulled up, and my panties down, exposing my naked derriere.

“You know what I like best about your lovely, pale skin, Charlotte?”

A rhetorical question? Nonetheless, “No Master. What is it you like?” Then I yelp loudly, as his palm

swipes across my butt, in a hard slap.

“You colour up so beautifully when I do this.” And he slaps again, now hard enough to make me gasp.

“Say ‘Thank you, Master’.”

“Thank you, Master.”

He slaps again. “I daresay it comes with your being a red-head. I imagine you don’t sunbathe much?”

Slap!

“Aaahhhh… No, Master. I never sunbathe. It burns me. Other people get a lovely tanned glow. I turn

red and purple.”

“Sensible girl. Very dangerous for someone as pale as you.”

Slap!

He rubs my buttocks with both hands, taking the sting out of my skin. “Yes, you’re pinking up nicely. I’m

going to give this ass of yours a good glow, but it won’t be from sun-tan.” Then he slaps again, with

more force.

I holler out, partly because it really does sting, but mainly because I know my Master needs the

release. And my pussy is warming again.

“Enjoying this Charlotte?” He doesn’t wait for a reply but probes me with a couple of fingers.

“Mmmm…., yes, wet, but not wet enough. Harder, I think”

The spank of his hand this time, across my naked butt, leaves me gasping for breath, but my pussy

spurts, sending a trickle of hot juices running down the back of my legs.

“That’s better, Charlotte. More like that, I think.”

He is deliberately setting me up, leaving me expectant of each slap. And of course, it only winds me up

further.

Michael is here. I didn’t hear him come in. The sound of the lock must have been covered by my yelps.

“Michael. Charlotte wants to play. Top or tail?”

Michael stands, arms folded, legs akimbo, looking down at me, while I yell out the next spank.

“Tail, I think,” he says. “I’m not putting my cock in her mouth while you’re doing that to her. Way too

dangerous.”

“My dear fellow,” purrs my Master. “Get yourself up her pussy instead. She’s dripping.”

Michael squats down close and kisses me, twisting his neck to meet with my up-side-down face. “Nice

start to the holiday, Charlotte.” he smiles. Then he stands, shrugging off his pants and shirt. Close to

me, I scent him, warm and musky, his cock swelling as I watch. He pushes himself at me, shaft and

balls rubbing at my face. “Want to get me up?”

He glances at my Master. “Hold off a minute eh? Don’t want any sudden reactions at this end…”

So far as I can, I reach for Michael’s stiffening shaft, trying to catch him with my lips, and wondering if

my Master’s hand is going to come down again on my glowing buttocks while I do so. But my sore ass

is left in peace, while I suckle on Michael’s rapidly hardening cock. Instead, my clit is fingered gently, a

thumb pressing into my pussy, just enough to make me shudder and lose my concentration.

“Perhaps I will face-fuck you,” says Michael.

I can’t reply, because he is sliding his now erect cock, into my mouth, one hand wrapped into my hair to

position me. “Open wide,” he says.

As he pushes in, to my rear something is buzzing. A cold splash, and then a vibe presses into my back

passage. It is not large, but it is buzzing madly, sending a wild vibration through my spine and core,

leaving my pussy fluttering and palpitating. It doesn’t move, simply nestling there in my ass, resonating

through my inner walls, and sending my clit a-pulsing.

As Michael feeds me his cock from the front, my Master penetrates me from behind, slowly spearing

me. His body pressed hard over mine, he cups my breasts above their corseted setting, twiddling with

the nipples and sending electric tingles to my core. His weight presses the vibe hard into me, which

sings its rippling song, through to my filled pussy and bud.

It is an irresistible combination. The vibration billowing through my inner muscles and clit, the stretch of

my passage by my Master’s fat cock, and the steady circling of my bud by his fingers; my orgasm

begins to rise almost immediately.

Flushed and sweating, I want to pant, but cannot. Michael is flowing, a steady stream of pre-cum

trickling into my mouth, and considerate as always, he repeatedly withdraws to let me breathe and

swallow, caressing my hair and face as he works to his own climax.


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