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Felicia lowered herself down to Peter’s body, crawling like a snake against his great warmth, her breasts leading the way to rub sweatily against his back. Peter came awake slightly, careful not to jostle Mary Jane as Felicia ran her arms around his chest and hugged him tight.

“Give me another order, Peter,” she cooed into his ear, careful not to wake Mary Jane either. “I want to do as you say.”

Peter smiled at her. “Go get a washcloth and a towel from the bathroom and bring them here.”

“Alright,” Felicia said, letting disappointment bloom on her face.

Peter fixed her with a stare. “Not ‘alright.’ ‘Yes, master.’ Have you got that?”

Felicia felt a tremor go through her cunt, welcoming this debasing treatment and how arousing it was for her, even as her mind objected to it. “Yes, master.” She spat the words like cobra venom.

Peter only grinned at her. “You sound unhappy. But that shaved cunt of yours tells me you don’t feel unhappy. Go do as you’re told. Quickly.”

Felicia fumed with humiliation, but her pussy whirled with lust. She couldn’t figure out her split reaction. She left for the bathroom and returned a moment later.

“Now wash my prick,” Peter ordered her.

Felicia gulped. “Yes, master.”

It was torment to handle his cock, knowing he’d just fucked his wife, the lewd little creature lying next to him. That he would fuck her again and again. Would Felicia ever get her turn?

She dried him after she’d finished wiping him off, feeling his member throb anxiously. She looked down at it, stiff and slowly rising, and knew that this present lust was for her. She lowered herself down to its heft as Peter’s length steadily aimed at her, but just as she pursed her lips, Peter had his hand in her hair, holding her still.

“Jerk me off,” Peter ordered her. Felicia was about to protest that they’d both enjoy it more with him in her mouth, when he continued “And while you do, I want you to tell me who you belong to.”

Felicia’s kneejerk response was to tell him she belonged to no one—she actually opened her mouth to say so, it was that instinctive—but what came out was “I belong to you.”

Peter nodded curtly. “Keep going,” he told her, and he wasn’t just referring to her words.

Felicia wrapped her hand around his trembling prick. She started a fast jerk, wanting his cum, wanting this to be over before… before she started to really enjoy it.

Peter’s stare bore into her. She had to answer it… had to give him something… she tried to think of something light, noncommittal, but stronger words slipped out of her. “My body is yours,” she whimpered. “You can do whatever you want with it.”

“Whatever I want?” Peter asked, looking down at her hand dancing faster and faster up his length and back down it.

“You can touch me,” Felicia whispered. “Anywhere, whenever you want, you can… here, I can go faster if I…”

She reached her hand down to her cunt, slicking it with the copious arousal flooding her pussy, and then wrapped her lubricated hand around his cock. Then her hand was really flying over his manhood. Peter reached over and stroked her hair, nothing more than that, his wrist loose and his touch light.

It spurred Felicia on as hotly as a riding whip landing on her ass.

“All I want is to serve you, master,” she gasped, realizing that with every word she spoke, an answering spark shot through her nether region—a muscular spasm as if she’d just been entered. All she needed was the massive cock in her hand and her pleasure would be complete. In every way but physically, Peter was fucking her.

“Serve me how?” Peter taunted her.

Felicia’s mouth hung open, her lips plump and beestung. Her eyes glazed over as she watched herself jerk Peter’s cock—making it as big and hard and angrily red as it would be inside her cunt, if he would only fuck her!

“With my body!” Felicia panted.

“I already have your body,” Peter told her. “I can fuck you whenever I want. What else?”

Her hand sped like lightning on the thick lather of saliva and precum, pumping Peter’s cock wildly now, the action making soft slurps as her hand hummed up and down his endowment.

“My submission,” Felicia gasped. “My servitude. I’ll give myself to you, my body, all my holes, anything you want from me, because I know you’ll—hnnnn—you’ll always make me come!”

“Then you’ll always come for me,” Peter asked, his voice beginning to shake a little.

Felicia knew she was really getting him off now. His prick was filling up so large it would be painful if it were inside her—that sweet pain that drove her orgasm back until he came inside her, and the flush of his satisfaction with her broke the dam and let all her pleasure out.

“Yes! YES! My orgasms are yours! I’ll always come for you!”

“They’re your reward,” Peter groaned.

“YES!”

“For?”

“For being your whore!” Felicia sighed, the strength suddenly gone from her voice, all her power exploding deep inside her cunt. “Your filthy fuck-whore—nnnngh—serving your big cock—oh God!” Her eyes rolled up in her head. Her orgasm was still consuming her. She couldn’t escape it. It just wouldn’t stop.

“And my cum dumpster.” Peter grimaced, fighting to keep his words below a howl. “Taking care of all that nasty cum you make me shoot. Where do you want it, Cat? Where do you want master’s cum?”

“Wherever master wants to put it!” Felicia answered in a shrill keening of a voice.

“And what if master wants to punish you?” Peter demanded, now grasping Felicia’s white mane in one hand and his own cock in the other, to slap her with its immodest heft. “What if master wants to punish you for being a dirty bitch?”

With the contact of flesh against flesh, she could feel the exciting blood throbbing in his endowment. It hardly seemed possible, but this had to be how big it was when he was on the verge of orgasm… a weighty cudgel that actually felt large enough to leave a bruise.

Felicia moaned. At the moment, nothing seemed more arousing than wearing a red flush from being slapped with how immense she’d made her master.

“I deserve to be punished,” Felicia whined, beseechingly looking up at Peter for the gratification that even pain would bring. She just needed him to do something to her—take control of her in some way—she couldn’t go on without something being done with all this energy inside her cunt. She knew only Peter could use it. “I’m nothing but a filthy slut.”

“And I’m your master,” Peter said, bringing Felicia’s anticipation to her zenith as she knew her body was about to be put to use.

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