The Sexretary's Next Big Assignment Read Free Page B

you’re given permission, and then it will be ‘Yes, Master,’ or ‘No, Master.’ The only exception is if I ask you to say something else specifically. Understood?”
    There had to be a way out of this, somehow. But I guess I sat there thinking for too long, trying to come up with a solution.
    He pressed the tip of the wand down against my engorged, spread pussy lips, and I nearly came unglued. Tears poured down my cheeks and my limbs were jerking involuntarily against my bonds, and I couldn’t stop the screams that kept rolling from my throat like a tsunami.
    “I’m waiting,” he growled. But he didn’t wait. He zapped the other side of my pussy lips, then moved back up to my breasts, pressing it against the areolas one at a time.
    “Please,” I said, gasping for air. “Please stop, Master.” I’d call him anything he wanted if he would just stop that torture.
    Then he spread some of my drool that had fallen to my chest over one of my nipples and pressed the thing to it, sending a sharper, more stinging shock to it. “You may only say ‘Yes, Master,’ or ‘No, Master.’ And I do not like to repeat myself. Understood?”
    “Yes, Master!”
    “Your purpose, as my sexretary, will be to please me sexually. That will be your only purpose. The only reason you exist. You will please me by immediately and without question obeying my every command.” He leaned down and took my other tit into his mouth, suckling it like his life depended on it. When he pulled away, it was drenched with his saliva. “Understood?”
    He zapped that nipple before I could respond, so when I did, I was blubbering in tears. Even though I was in sincere and distinct pain, though, I felt more aroused than I could ever remember feeling before—and that was saying something. My sex was dripping with my need, and both my ass and my pussy were clenching around the massive dildos buried deep inside.
    As much as I hated what he was doing to me, I couldn’t make myself wish it would stop. “Yes, Master.”
    “Essentially, you will be my sex slave. Does this excite you, slut?” He bent lower, taking my clit between his teeth and rolling it, then lashing against it with his tongue.
    Despite the fact that I was 99.9 percent certain he intended to zap my wet, pained, burning clit with his electrified wand, it did excite me. I was way more sick and twisted than I’d ever imagined. “Yes, Master,” I moaned.
    And then the shock hit me, zinging out through my whole body to the very edges of my limbs before coming back to settle in my pussy. The pain was exquisite agony, almost perfect to send me over the edge into oblivion, but not quite. Instead, it left me hovering there on the edge of pain and pleasure, and unable to escape from the clutches of either.
    He zapped my cheek, which was wet from my tears, and then licked a path over my belly before zapping me there. “Those boys at Cooper Anderson have been giving you plenty of cock, but you need more than cock. You need discipline, don’t you, slut?”
    Another lick, another zap. Then again, and again, moving all over my body.
    Not that I would even think about denying him right now. “Yes, Master.” My muscles were convulsing, causing me to jerk violently against the bonds holding me in place. Each movement ground my clit further onto the sawhorse and tightened the strings around my tits.
    The phrase hot mess ? That was me. A hot mess of need and pain and sexed-up, frenetic energy just waiting to explode.
    He bit the side of my breast while he zapped my cunt again with the wand. “You want me to discipline you?”
    “Yes, Master!”
    My orgasm kept inching closer, but remained just out of reach.
    “Beg me,” he commanded, moving the wand back and forth between my tits and my clit at a rapid pace, making certain that I couldn’t adjust before I was struck with the crazy, stinging jolt again.
    “Discipline me, please, Master!” I was crying so hard, I couldn’t understand myself