Chapter 17: The Final Test
The wet, rhythmic sounds of her mouth working his cock filled the silent office, punctuated only by Josh’s low, ragged groans. Gail’s fingers, coated in her own slickness and his cum, worked deeper inside him, probing the tight, hot channel with a brazen intimacy that shattered his lingering resistance. She felt the telltale pulse, the iron-hard rigidity as his cock swelled against her tongue. His hips bucked involuntarily, forcing his length deeper down her throat. She gagged, tears springing to her eyes, but didn’t pull back. Instead, she sucked harder, hollowing her cheeks, her fingers simultaneously curling and pressing firmly against the sensitive bundle of nerves inside him.
"Oh, FUCK!" Josh roared, the sensation overwhelming. It wasn't just the expert pressure on his prostate, nor the relentless suction on his cock—it was the sheer, filthy audacity of her act. His hand, still tangled in her blonde hair, clenched, holding her head firmly in place as his climax ripped through him. Thick, hot jets of cum erupted directly into her straining throat. Gail swallowed convulsively, forcing it down, her throat working around him, her trapped fingers inside him clenching in time with his pulsing release. She milked him dry, her tongue lapping at the sensitive head even after the last spurt, until he finally shuddered and slumped back in the leather chair, utterly spent.
Gail held still for a moment, his softening cock resting on her tongue, her fingers still buried in his ass. She slowly, carefully withdrew her fingers, a slick, obscene sound accompanying the motion. Then, with deliberate slowness, she pulled her mouth off his cock, leaving it glistening but clean. She sat back on her heels on the plush rug, knees aching, her own core throbbing with a persistent ache and a slick heat. Her denim skirt was rucked up, her fishnets torn, her white shirt partially unbuttoned, revealing the swell of her small breasts. Cum stains darkened the rug beneath her.
Josh stared down at her, his chest heaving. The fury was still there, banked but glowing, warring with a dazed satiation and a gnawing disgust—primarily at himself. "You... you filthy little degenerate," he breathed, his voice rough.
Gail met his gaze, her blue eyes wide, pupils dilated. A slow, trembling smile touched her swollen lips. "I belong to you, Sir," she whispered, her voice raspy from his cock. "Every filthy part."
He watched her, the conflict playing across his face. The vulnerability beneath the brazen whore, the bruises, the absolute surrender. His property. Utterly debased. A dark, possessive satisfaction warred with the need to punish her further, to push her deeper into the abyss she seemed to crave. His gaze drifted past her, landing on the locked cabinet tucked discreetly beside the bookshelf. The one he knew she knew contained things far darker than casual restraints. Things he hadn't touched in years.
He pushed himself up slightly in the chair, adjusting his trousers but not fully fastening them. He pointed a finger at the cabinet, his eyes never leaving hers. "Get up. Go over there. Open it."
Gail’s breath hitched. Anticipation, sharp and electric, crackled through her exhaustion. She scrambled to her feet, wincing as the movement sent fresh jolts of pain radiating from her battered pussy. Cum trickled down her inner thigh, sticky and cooling. She walked the few paces to the cabinet, her ankle boots silent on the polished wood floor now. Her hand trembled slightly as she turned the key already in the lock – a key she’d noted long ago. She pulled the door open.
Inside, the dim lamplight glinted off polished steel, dark leather, and smooth silicone. Intricate restraints. A collection of floggers – leather, suede, rubber. Clamps of various sizes, their cruel teeth gleaming. Plugs, some modest, others intimidatingly large and flared. A sleek black vibrator. And coiled neatly on a shelf, a thick, black leather collar, studded subtly with silver.
Josh watched her survey the contents, the hunger plain on her face. "Pick something," he commanded, his voice low and dangerous. "Pick what you think a worthless fucktoy like you deserves. Show me you understand your place."
Gail reached in slowly, her fingers brushing cool leather, cold steel. She bypassed the floggers, the clamps. Her hand hovered over a large, bulbous black plug, then moved lower. She picked up the collar. It was heavy, substantial, the leather thick and supple. She held it out towards him, her eyes pleading, submissive. "This, Sir?" she whispered. "To mark your property?"
He nodded curtly. "Good girl. Put it on." A flicker of approval sparked in his ice-blue eyes.
Her fingers fumbled slightly with the buckle, the cold metal biting her skin. She lifted her chin, pulling her blonde hair aside, exposing her slender neck. The leather band settled heavily against her throat. She fastened it, the buckle clicking shut with finality. The weight of it, the constriction, was instantly grounding. Degrading. Perfect. She felt owned in a way the bruises and the ache inside her couldn't match. She turned back to him, awaiting his next command, the collar stark against her pale skin.
Josh eyed her, the collar transforming her from merely disheveled to unmistakably claimed chattel. "Now," he said, his gaze dropping to the cabinet. "The large black plug. The one you hesitated over. Bring it here."
Gail’s heart hammered against the leather band. She turned back, her hand closing around the cold silicone. It was thick, intimidatingly so, with a wide, flared base. She carried it back to him, holding it out.
He didn’t take it. "Lube it up," he ordered, his voice devoid of inflection. "Use your mouth."
Gail stared at the plug, then at him. The command was a fresh level of debasement. She brought the cold, bulbous tip to her lips. Her tongue darted out, tentative at first, then broad strokes, coating the silicone in her saliva. She worked diligently, sucking the length, swirling her tongue around the widest part, coating it thoroughly, making it glisten obscenely under the lamp. It tasted faintly chemical, sterile. She pulled it from her mouth with a wet pop, holding it out again, slick with her spit.
"Turn around," Josh commanded, standing up. "Bend over the arm of the chair. Spread your cheeks. Show me that filthy asshole you let that boy violate."
Gail obeyed instantly. She turned her back to him, facing the high back of the leather armchair. She bent forward at the waist, pressing her torso against the cool leather, her short skirt offering no barrier. She reached back, hooking her fingers into the torn fishnets and her thong, pulling them aside. Then, with a deep breath, she spread her cheeks wide, exposing the tight, pink pucker nestled between them, still slightly reddened and loose from Eric’s assault. Below, her swollen, bruised pussy lips glistened, evidence of Josh’s brutal reclaiming still seeping out.
Josh stepped close behind her. He traced a finger lightly around her exposed hole, feeling her flinch. It was hot, incredibly tight despite the earlier violation. Her breath hitched audibly. He took the slick plug from her hand, the cold silicone a shock against her heated skin. He pressed the blunt, saliva-slicked tip against her tight entrance.
"Relax, slut," he growled, though he knew she couldn’t fully obey. "Take your punishment."
He applied steady, unrelenting pressure. The thick bulb pressed against the resisting ring of muscle. Gail gasped, pushing back instinctively against the invasion, her fingers digging into the leather. It burned, a deep, stretching ache. He pushed harder, feeling the muscle give suddenly, the thickest part popping past the tight ring. Gail cried out, a sharp, strangled sound, her body trembling violently as the massive plug invaded her ass, stretching her wider than Eric had, filling her completely.
"Fuck! Oh god, Sir!" she sobbed, her knuckles white on the chair.
He pushed it all the way in, the wide base settling firmly against her ass cheeks, stretching them obscenely. The sensation was overwhelming – a deep, constant pressure, a fullness that bordered on pain, a profound violation that resonated deep in her core. Her abused cunt clenched reflexively around nothing, dripping fresh arousal onto the rug.
Josh ran a possessive hand over her ass, feeling the solid base of the plug beneath his palm, the heat radiating from her stretched hole. He gripped the base, giving it a cruel little twist. Gail yelped, arching her back.
"Now," he said, his voice thick with renewed arousal as he looked down at her bent form, the plug stretching her, the collar around her neck. He undid his trousers again, freeing his half-hard cock. The sight of her like this, collared, plugged, utterly debased, was rapidly bringing him back to full hardness. He slapped his cock against her wet, swollen pussy lips, the sound sharp in the quiet room. "You think you deserve this cunt filled again, you greedy little whore? After the mess you made? After letting that boy fuck it raw?"
"Please, Sir!" Gail begged, pushing her ass back against the plug, her hips seeking his cock. "Please fuck my dirty pussy! I need it! I need you to use all of me!"
He slapped his cock against her clit hard, making her jerk. "Such a desperate little fuckhole," he sneered. He gripped her hips, his thumbs digging into the bruises, and positioned himself at her slick entrance. With one brutal thrust, he buried himself to the hilt in her still-tender, cum-slick cunt.
Gail screamed again, the dual penetration – the massive plug stretching her ass, his thick cock plunging into her pussy – overwhelming her senses. It was agony and ecstasy twisted together, a brutal fullness that stole her breath. Josh set a punishing pace immediately, fucking her pussy with deep, hard strokes, his balls slapping against the wide base of the plug with every thrust. The plug shifted inside her with each powerful drive, rubbing against his cock through the thin membrane separating her holes, creating a maddening pressure deep in her core.
"Yes! Fuck! Use me! Own me!" Gail babbled, her face pressed against the leather, tears and drool smearing the surface. Her cunt clenched desperately around his invading length, trying to milk him even as the pain flared. "Your holes! Your slut! Ruin me completely, Sir!" She reached a hand back, frantically rubbing her clit in tight, desperate circles, chasing the agonizing friction.
Josh fucked her relentlessly, his gaze fixed on the collar around her neck, on the plug stretching her ass, on the way her small body writhed beneath his assault. He reached around, his hand finding her throat, his fingers pressing against the leather collar, not quite choking but asserting ownership. "Mine," he grunted, each thrust punctuating the word. "This cunt. This ass. This worthless body. Mine."
He felt his climax building again, fed by her absolute degradation, by the tight, hot friction of her abused pussy, by the obscene pressure of the plug moving against his cock. He slammed into her one final time, hilting himself deep, grinding against her clit and the plug simultaneously as his orgasm tore through him. Hot cum flooded her battered passage, marking her internally again, mixing with the remnants of his previous claim and Eric’s violation. He groaned, a sound of pure, dark possession, holding himself deep as he pulsed inside her.
Gail came with a ragged cry, her body arching violently. It wasn't pleasure; it was a shattering release of tension, an electric jolt forced from her by the overwhelming stimulation and the brutal claiming. Her pussy spasmed wildly around his cock, milking the last drops of cum, while the plug inside her felt like a branding iron.
He held her there for a long moment, bent over the chair, plugged, collared, impaled on his softening cock, his cum leaking down her inner thighs to mingle with the wetness already soaking the rug. His breathing gradually slowed, the only other sound her choked sobs and the faint dripping. Finally, he pulled out of her with a slick, wet sound. He fastened his trousers, looking down at the wreckage of his nanny.
"Stay like that," he commanded, his voice devoid of warmth. "Don't move. Don't touch the plug. I want you to feel it. Remember it." He turned towards the door, pausing before unlocking it. "And clean this fucking rug properly before you leave this room."
He unlocked the door and walked out without a backward glance, leaving Gail bent over the chair, collared, plugged, dripping his cum, the heavy silence of the office settling around her like a shroud, the only sensation the deep, relentless ache of ownership radiating from her violated holes.