Punished by the Dictator's Daughter (The Initiation 3, Book 3) by Aphrodite Hunt Page B

my strength to keep still. I squeal as the dildo
pushes apart my rectal walls. The saucers quiver dangerously.
    The guard says something soothing against the
back of my neck. I think he is trying to reassure me. Breathe
deeply, beautiful girl. Do not scream.
    The dildo penetrates me slowly, allowing me
to adjust to its girth with every inch that it claims inside my
rectum. I feel it creep up – deeper and deeper. I have to suck in
my breath to maintain absolutely stillness.
    Please , I whimper soundlessly, please don’t let me drop anything. I’m not sure I want to
incur Aimelie’s dubious wrath. I can only pray that she doesn’t
decide to ask the guard to fuck my ass with the dildo. I will not
be able to withstand it.
    My asshole clenches around the tool,
contracting like a closing fist. My arms tremble and the saucers
shiver precariously.
    Aimelie turns to watch me. She laughs and
says something. Then she slides off Max’s gleaming cock. Max’s
impressive member stands like a flagpole, streaked with her cud. He
eyes me helplessly. Aimelie rotates her body so that she is now
facing me instead of the headboard. She hovers on all fours over
the prostate and bound body of Max. She is smiling as she gazes at
me.
    She lowers her unshaven pussy onto Max’s
stiff cock so that I can get a proper eyeful. She does this in slow
motion, relishing the fact that I am thus encumbered in my
torturous position – subject to her whims and unable to move. Once
again, her pussy sheaths him to the very hilt until her perineum
and the base of her buttocks is quashed against his loins. Her
pussy lips rub against the shoal-like curvature of his balls.
    She laughs as she begins to hump him again,
the bed creaking with her vigorous movements. Tears come into my
eyes and I blink them away. Yes, I know Max is a slave. I
understand intellectually that he has been fucked by more men and
women in my absence that I care to count. As have I. But what
Aimelie is doing reeks of psychological manipulation. She’s
manipulating our feelings, our emotions, and our open fears of
incarceration in this terrifying country.
    Behind me, I sense movement again. The guard
has returned. This time, he carries what I can only glimpse as a
glass candle holder. Possibly from Ikea. I sense this affinity that
Aimelie seems to have for Ikea instead of far more expensive
furniture – which I’m sure Daddy would readily indulge her. It is
one of her strange affectations.
    Oh, oh, but the candle is lighted.
    The guard carefully places it on top of my
head. And really, there is no recourse for me now. The dildo
stuffed up my ass, making its presence felt very loudly, is already
marginalizing my attention. As are the saucers on my arms and
thighs. My limbs are rapidly transcending into a fatigued
stage.
    And now with this abomination on top of my
skull.
    Oh . . . oh . . . oh . . .
    I shriek as the candle holder and its flame
comes cascading down, striking my flexed shoulder on its way and
causing my right arm to shudder and spill everything upon it. The
saucers come tumbling off to smash upon the stony floor.
    As a result, I rapidly become
defragmented.
    Everything else crashes around me, and I
scream and scream and scream – much more from the shock and sheer
terror of what Aimelie would do to me than from any real pain. I
think I have become hysterical. My own screams ring in my ears as I
collapse, my limbs folding in on me as I fall onto the floor. I
curl myself up in a ball upon the scattered shards. I scream and
scream, unable to stop my voice box from splintering like a
banshee’s.
    To say that I’m an awful mess would be to
mention that the ocean is a little bit salty.
    There’s a commotion around me. The guards are
trying to pick me up from the floor. I can hear Aimelie’s voice
shouting above the din.
    I stop screaming, but only because I’m out of
breath. My sobs choke in my throat and my chest is a pumping
bellows. Hands pull me up and succor my waist. I