Chapter 1
He pried apart the cheeks of her ass with one hand while reaching for the jug of olive oil with the other. She was on her knees, head buried in the mattress, her ass up in the air. He had taken her this way every time since first coming to own her just over two weeks before. It wasn’t that he didn’t like fucking face to face ― he liked it just fine ― but he wanted her to know that he was in control here. She was his to do as he saw fit.
The oil had been a necessity ― well not so much a necessity as a small kindness ― although she didn’t realize it at the time. She was always dry when he took her and although his plan was to ensure her complete submission it didn’t include excessive or unnecessary pain. The sex was a necessary part of that plan, an extremely pleasurable part of that plan as far as he was concerned but he had no desire to have her associate pain with his pleasure. It was his hope that sooner or later she would also begin to feel pleasure from their coupling. A willing and enthusiastic participant was much more desirable than an unwilling and recalcitrant one and he was prepared to take as long as it took to achieve that goal. This time it looked like maybe, just maybe, his plan was actually working.
Under the small brown crinkled star of her anus he could see the soft, fleshy lips of her cunt; it looked like they were actually moist! Ignoring the jug of oil he brought his hand back to gently trace those lips with the tip of his finger and smiled, they were damp! Slowly he wormed the tip of his finger inside her and felt her body shiver although she didn’t try to pull away like she had the first few times he had explored her. She was wet, not gushing wet but wet nonetheless.
“I think someone is starting to enjoy this,” he mused out loud.
“No,” came the muffled reply.
“Really? That’s not what your body’s telling me.”
She didn’t answer as he slowly worked his finger in and out, her natural lubrication wetting his finger more with each plunge. Bending down and craning his neck up he let his tongue lightly lap at the exposed lips while still moving his finger deeper and deeper into her center. He found the taste of her hairless lips exquisite, a heady blend of musk and perspiration; she whimpered but didn’t say anything. At this angle his neck was getting sore so drawing back he lightly slapped her on one ass cheek and said, “Turn over, on your back.” She gave a small sob and complied. What else could she do? Her hands were still bound and besides he had the legal right to do with her whatever he pleased.
She rolled to her back and he gently but firmly pushed her legs apart until her quim was fully exposed to his gaze. Dropping down again he began to lick at her open slit, his rasping tongue softly caressing her blood-engorged lips, dipping deeper to sample the juices her treasonous body began making even more copiously. No man had ever done this to her and she squeezed her eyes shut, the inherent feeling of wrongness on so many levels battling with the new sensations emanating from her groin.
The feeling was extremely pleasant and her legs involuntarily splayed even farther apart opening her up even more to his gentle ministrations. The sensations increased as he delved deeper, his tongue touching every part of her channel it could reach. She fought to control her sounds of pleasure valiantly until the tip of his tongue rubbed the engorged button located at the top of her slit; then she gasped out loud and her bound hands came up to rest on the top of his head, not to push away but with fingers entwined in his short hair to pull him down into her even harder.
“Oh, Powers!” she groaned as her hips bucked up into his mouth, she had lost all conscious control over her body. “Oh, Lords!” she repeated as he took her nub between his teeth and gently nipped it. Suddenly a sensation completely new raced through her body freezing her in a stiff rigor of pleasure and blanking everything else from her mind. She whined loudly, hands pulling him in even tighter as her legs lifted trapping his head in the smooth vise of her thighs.
It was some minutes before she recovered from the first orgasm she had experienced in her thirty-six years of life. Even as her head cleared she felt his insistent prodding and she again rolled over and lifted her ass into the air as his unspoken instructions demanded. Eyes closed and face pressed firmly into the pillow of the bed they shared she felt his hands gently grasp her inner thighs and firmly move her legs apart spreading her pussy lips and opening her up for his use. His hands moved to her hips and the next thing she felt was the spongy head of his cock pressing against her lewdly splayed opening.
“No, Antal,” she protested weakly but offering no other resistance.
“Yes, Ilona,” he said firmly as he started to push his way into her wet embrace.
Initially she didn’t know who her new master was when she was first bought. He’d had her bound at the wrists and hooded before he led her through the busy streets of Eregli. In some part she was glad to be hooded even though it caused her to stumble over the uneven cobblestones of the street. She’d lived in Eregli all her life and the thought of her neighbors and friends seeing her reduced to bondage was one less thing she had to bear for the moment.
They had come for her and the house less than a week after Janos, her husband, had died. A grossly fat man thirty years her senior, he had passed suddenly while enjoying the pleasures of a young boy at one of the local whorehouses. Ilona was his second wife as he was her second husband. She had felt compelled to remarry four years after her first husband died at sea during a fishing expedition. Janos’s preference for young boys was never an issue. He needed a wife to manage his household and be the hostess for the many formal and informal gatherings and parties he gave in the furtherance of what she believed was a thriving trading venture. Her first marriage had been arranged by her parents and, although loveless, was comfortable. Never having felt the touch of a true lover’s hand she missed the sexual aspect of her second union not at all. Her only regret was her son, eight years old at the time of his father’s death and twelve when they came to live with Janos, never forgave her for the marriage. He left abruptly when he reached the age of sixteen and she hadn’t seen or heard from him in the four years since.
