Free A Calling to Thrall by Jena Cryer

One
     
    His hands are rough.
    He holds me like he owns me. With his every thrust
he digs deeper, farther inside me, and all I want to do is beg for
more, but my gag keeps me mute.
    Don't stop. Please don't stop .
    I'm on knees. His fingers dig into my thighs. He
spreads my legs wider and plows into me almost harder than even I
can bear. My back arches. I gasp for breath. Every nerve in my body
is overloaded. Electric heat rolls through my innards as I pant
harder, faster.
    “She's a good fit, isn't she?”
    My master stands in front of me. He strokes my cheek
while his guest takes me from behind.
    “She's not bad,” the stranger says. “How old is she?
Twenty-three? Twenty-five?”
    “She'll be twenty-eight this March,” Master tells
him. “I bought her nearly ten years ago, but she's held up
remarkably well.”
    Master slips off my gag, and my breaths come out
loud and lustful. The stranger quickens his tempo. Master's hands
caress my breasts. His fingers pinch my hardened nipples. Pain and
pleasure mix into the sweetest cocktail I've ever tasted, and I
scream to the heavens as I feel the stranger's seed shoot through
me.
    “Good girl,” the stranger gives my rump a playful
swat, and I quickly turn to clean his cock while my master offers
to make him a drink.
    “You could have one just like her, you know,” Master
tells him. “If you have what we're looking for, that is.”
    I latch my mouth around the stranger's cock. It
twitches as my tongue slowly circles his head.
    “And just what are you looking for?”
    My master chuckles. “An artist's touch, Mr. Mason.
Make no mistake, it wasn't luck that brought you to our attention.
I've seen your work. You're very good at what you do.”
    I suckle Mr. Mason's cock harder. His seed is
strong, salty, and I can already feel more building as I slip my
lips up and down his shaft over and over and over...
    “I'm just a psychologist,” Mr. Mason says. “My kind
is a dime a dozen.”
    “You give yourself too little credit,” Master tells
him. “I've read your theories on behavioral modification, and
they're quite fascinating. I'd love to see them put into
practice.”
Mr. Mason tenses. His cock slides down the back of my throat, and
slowly he loosens up.
    “No one back home approves of my methods,” he
says.
    I can practically hear the smile in my master's
voice. “But we aren't in the states, Mr. Mason. Thrall is an
isolated and independent nation. We refuse to restrain any
independent thought...at least by our citizens.”
    “And I take it this isn't a citizen?”
    Mr. Mason's hand falls on my head, and I lean into
his touch.
    “Thrall was founded on the principle of male
dominance. Our women are here for our pleasure and our pleasure
alone. They have no rights, no voice, and no power. If you're
offended by that notion, I'm afraid our business is over.”
    “I never said I had a problem with the arrangement.
I just wanted to get it straight first.”
    Mr. Mason's fingers twine through my hair. He pulls
me closer. His shaft slides smoothly inside me until my lips press
against his balls.
    “I didn't think you would,” Master tells him. “I
like to think of myself as a good judge of character, and I can
tell you'll fit in well here.”
    Mr. Mason pumps harder into my mouth. His balls slap
my chin. He comes in an explosion of heat that sweeps down my
throat, straight through to the core of my being, and I lean back
to lap at his cock just as I’ve been trained.
    “Would you believe she was a virgin when she first
came here?” Master asks Mr. Mason. “My little Leeta used to shiver
every time she saw a cock, and now she's the best pet I've ever
owned.”
    “She's very well trained,” Mr. Mason says. “Quite
enthusiastic.”
    “As any good house pet should be.” Master strokes my
hair, and I moan. “Make no mistake, Mr. Mason, I'm not asking you
to break these girls. I merely want you to reform them. Society has
corrupted their minds. They need to be