On a Tuesday night, the Duchess crew had dined on sushi served off a naked woman.

On a Thursday night, they’d watched a submissive get spanked for misbehaving.

After Anthony returned from his business trip, he’d planned to take me to Duchess on a Saturday.

If all hell broke loose on the weekdays, how wild did it get on the weekends?

Wild enough for Anthony to send me a present—the address of a formal dress boutique where I could pick out any fancy gown I liked. He’d also reserved a manicure, pedicure, and massage that did nothing but make me ache for his touch.

He’d promised me something exciting.

And the possibilities wound me so tight I could hardly zip the fancy black cocktail dress that hugged my curves sexy enough to boost my confidence.

The dress cut above my knees at an angle, and the neckline plunged down, reminding me that I was in my early twenties and it was best to live large while my B-cups tried their best.

It didn’t matter. A week apart from Anthony—forced back into a world of serving coffee and ducking phone calls from my mother—was driving me crazy.

I didn’t think the dress would stay on for long.

And that was exciting. Not concertos and Dean’s List, but Anthony was the first good thing since my violin.

Life Goal Number Seven: Don’t just borrow confidence from Anthony…keep it.

Again, the secret, VIP entrance to Duchess thrilled me, only this time, I couldn’t keep my eyes on the door. I drank Anthony in, still tasting every last salty inch of him. His vest contoured his body perfectly—alternating dark stripes that accentuated his height. I wiggled around his feet like a happy puppy, and he pulled me close enough to tease.

“You look beautiful in that dress, pet.”

I gave him a proper twirl. “Think it’s acceptable for Duchess, sir?”

“More than acceptable…” He didn’t smile. Did he speak threats or promises? “I’m going to show you off tonight, little one.”

I didn’t know if it was his words or his hands that prompted a shiver. “Show me off?”

“Do you trust me?”

“That depends, sir. What are you planning?”

He teased the strap of my dress. “I’ve planned for a perfect evening with my beautiful pet. You belong to me, Morgan. And soon, everyone will know it.”

He leaned down, nibbling the promise of a greater kiss. I reached for him, wanting to fall into his embrace.

He shook his head. “They’re waiting for us tonight, Morgan. We can’t keep them waiting…”

Anthony plotted something devious. Was it better to be surprised or to learn his dark and twisted intentions before we left?

He opened the door for me.

And once I went through…there was no going back.

Duchess hosted a much larger crowd on a Saturday than on a Thursday, but Anthony recognized nearly everyone in attendance. Which made sense. He’d said the members at the club had been hand-selected for membership.

And this was my trial. A personalized tour with Anthony himself.

He led me deeper into Duchess. A sexy, instrumental R&B pumped through the club, and more than a few women danced in the corners—more a striptease for their masters than an innocent dance. The majority of the crowd sipped their drinks and casually observed the dancing girls. Two of them kissed. The men cheered.

Wow. Every person in Duchess confidently embraced their sexuality—from the dancing submissives to the dom leading his timid pet on his arm.

We didn’t sit in the bar or dance with the others.

Anthony led me once more to the room where I’d watched Shannon’s punishment.

The lighting dimmed like a romantic café, offering a bit of seclusion to each of the booths along the sides. Every table, every chair angled towards the center platform, the shining silver restraints neatly stacked on the black leather.

I shouldn’t have looked at the table. Bed. Whatever it was. My nerves twisted me, and I focused on my dress, fiddling with the hem, the straps, and my purse. I accidentally kicked Anthony while recrossing my legs. A few others joined us in the room, and a waitress—complete with collar around her neck and a freshly bruised back—delivered drinks we hadn’t yet ordered.

A gin and tonic for Anthony and something princess pink for me.

“From Mistress Simone.” The server smiled at Anthony before she returned to the bar.

I swirled the cherries in the bottom of my glass. “A Shirley Temple? Really?”

“Simone’s teasing you.”

“With a virgin drink?” My stomach fell. “You didn’t tell her…did you?”

“I tell Simone everything.”

Oh God. “So…she knows I’m a virgin?”

“Don’t be silly, pet.” Anthony turned devil with a grin. “Everyone in Duchess now knows you’re a virgin. Why do you think they can’t stop staring at you?”

I searched the room. He wasn’t lying. Second glances and playful smirks followed my gaze.

Like a wounded baby animal, I’d limped out of the savannah and into the lion’s den.

“Be a good girl…” Anthony pushed the pinkest cocktail in the world towards me. “Take your drink. Don’t insult Simone’s generosity.”

My throat closed, but I reluctantly sipped just to hide my face from the curious stares and unrelenting appraisals.

I liked Shirley Temples, even ordered them when I played DD, but Simone might as well have dressed it with a real umbrella and flashing lights that Morse code blinked the word Virgin. But, for some reason, Anthony seemed to like that Simone made me uncomfortable—anything from her behavior to my simmering attraction to her. I was lucky she hadn’t plunked herself down at our table, playing her wicked games just to watch me lose my mind.

But we were alone.

Thomas and Shannon, Nate and Mariah, Reed and Genn joined the room, but they hid in their own booths. No one disturbed us. As private as Duchess could be.

Something was definitely up, and I was the only person in the dark.

“You look worried, pet.” Anthony lifted my chin and looked in my eyes. My insides shivered at his touch. “I’ll make sure you enjoy yourself tonight.”

“I always enjoy myself with you.” I bit my lip. “Well, most times.”

“Most times?”

“I missed you last week.”

“Did you, little one? Why’s that?”

I swirled the cherries with my straw. “You know why.”

“I do?”

Why was he allowed to act coy? I pouted, but I could say it. My confession here was a hell of a lot more innocent than most of Duchess’s antics.

“Because we never got to finish what we started, sir.”

Anthony’s dark hair framed his face, and everything around him blended to shadow. His stare pinned me in place, and a thrill of anticipation and danger tickled up my spine.

“I didn’t fuck you,” he said.

I nodded.

“And you wanted me to fuck you.”

I nodded again.

“Say it, pet.”

I couldn’t breathe. “I wanted to be fucked, sir.”

“Good.”

He returned his attention to his drink. I held my breath until my chest ached.

Good? That was his response?

Not I want to fuck you too or let’s head back to my bed and finish it?

He was insulting. Patronizing. Insensitive. But I still boiled for him. He created the game just for me to lose.

And I think I loved it.

He beckoned me close with a curling finger. I leaned in, and he rewarded me with a kiss. As gentle as his lips could be, pressing against mine, urging my mouth open enough to flick his tongue. My pussy clenched, and I exhaled a whimper.

“Come here, pet.”

Anthony patted his lap.

Oh.

Oh!

I looked around. The room had gotten crowded. A group of four occupied the table to our left. The half-naked waitress darted between chairs and booths, delivering drinks and accepting a spank on the bottom as a tip. Couples filled every booth. My heart beat too loudly to hear the murmured conversations.

How many people would see me settle in his lap?

But Anthony remained frustratingly patient. I tried my luck, flirting with a timid smile.

“Wouldn’t you rather go somewhere…quieter, sir?”

“Not just yet.”

Damn.

He leaned back, completely relaxed, welcoming the prying gazes of the room.

I suppressed a frustrated groan. Sex wasn’t supposed to be this hard. Everything with Anthony was pre-calculated and planned and difficult. Submission wasn’t easy when I had no idea how dangerous his will could be.

Well, fine.

If he wanted to see how far I’d go to please him, he’d be very surprised.

I settled onto his lap, wrapping my arms over his neck. I fit neatly against his chest, tiny and possessed. His body immediately reacted.

Success.

He stole a passionate, whirlwind of a kiss. I lost my breath, whispering his name as he brushed his lips along my neck. His compliment warmed my skin.

“Good girl.”

In mere moments, Anthony had transformed me from awkward virgin to a wanton woman, clutching him like the world shattered under our feet and he was my only anchor to safety.

Maybe that’s what he was.

Anthony’s kiss became a sensual reward for abandoning my hesitations. Despite the crowding room, no one commented or laughed. It was normal for a sub to sit in the lap of her master. To kiss him. To wiggle against him as his hands clutched at her body.

My stomach still twisted, but for the moment, the nagging pulse between my legs won out.

I slipped my tongue against his in a flit of bravery. He responded with a tighter hold on my hair. Not a punishment, just forceful encouragement.

Pleasure and pain tread a thin line, and I only had a taste of what Anthony considered necessary. My heart raced, and he nipped at my skin. The zip of pain shot from my neck right to my core.

He could have dumped me on the floor, walked away without a word, and I’d have waited for his return, shaking like an addict.

“What is it, pet?” Anthony whispered. His tongue flicked my earlobe. I nearly vaulted into the ceiling.

I wasn’t sure what part of my brain let my vulnerability talk, but those synapses needed to be electroshocked.

“I like this, sir.”

“Me too.” His voice deepened. “Know what I’d like more?”

If we could get out of the club?

If we could go to his bed?

If we could rock together until a perfect oblivion overwhelmed us?

I squealed as Anthony stood, scooping me into his arms.

Oh, now the other members were really watching.

I pushed at his chest, but that wasn’t going to stop him. My stomach rolled. Where was he taking me?

Home?

No.

Worse.

Anthony walked only a few steps before plunking me down.

On the table in the middle of the room.

With everyone watching.

“Easy, pet.” Anthony soothed me with a kiss. “Isn’t this much more comfortable?”

“We have different definitions of comfortable.”

“Nonsense. I couldn’t see you in all the dark and shadows over there.” He grinned, looking into the spotlight above. “Now I can see all of you.”

And so could everyone else.

My legs crossed so hard they hurt. He rested his forehead on mine. I breathed in his closeness.

“You look absolutely beautiful, Morgan.”

And now the compliments?

My body responded to his growl. His lips pressed against my forehead, temple, and cheeks. After a moment’s pause to nudge my head back, he turned his attention to my neck, tracing the artery with his lips and tongue.

This was so very Anthony.

Of course, he wanted to kiss me here, on the table, in front of the entire club. He’d admitted to craving the attention, loving how they admired his work. My body tensed, but he didn’t stop the line of kisses.

“I want you.” A compliment or threat? “Right here, Morgan.”

“Here?”

“Yes.”

“But…”

“You’re mine, pet. Every touch will prove it. To you. To me.” His eyes cast over the room, only once acknowledging the quieting audience. “To them.”

It sounded terrifying, but it was Anthony’s greatest thrill.

His touch trailed over my arms, gentle. My breath escaped in tiny gasps between kisses.

Could I do this? Could I give myself to him…

My first time...

Here?

He stood strong and wild, his eyes hungry with lust. I knew exactly what he wanted, what excited him, but I had no idea how to offer it.

I was completely at his mercy.

I trembled. The fear and anxiety blended into a new arousal, one dependent on Anthony to soothe.

Duchess watched, but he held me close in his arms, hiding me from their eyes, obscured by his desire. His kiss ignited a while intensity inside me. Not a Once Upon A Time, under the covers, sweet romance, but one blending fear, devotion, and blinding trust.

“You can always use the safe word,” he whispered. “But I don’t think you’ll need it, do you?”

Anthony breathed with me, his hands weaving over my arms. His lips nibbled mine.

I prayed he wouldn’t stop.

His kiss wove a trail from my neck down my arm. Goosebumps followed the path, and I giggled as the shiver shook me from my toes all the way up. Anthony’s smile twisted, his courage bolstered by my submission. His finger danced over the strap of my dress.

He pulled it down, revealing my bare shoulder.

I crashed back into the room.

We weren’t the only ones here, no matter how hard I wished it. A few other girls sat in the laps of their dates. Some knelt on the floor. One man in a collar pleasured another man. Some people talked. Sipped their drinks. All of them watched.

He tugged down the other strap.

This was it.

My bared shoulders signified a point of no return. At least the room was dim. Better for the more experienced to believe I understood what he did to me rather than the truth.

I’d blundered into every single command Anthony ordered, and I had no idea how far he’d go now that I gave him permission.

He comforted me with brush of his lips against my shoulder. His hands moved lower. They settled on my thighs. I crossed my ankles tight, but I could read his desire.

I shivered, sinking deeper and deeper into a trove of goose bumps. My legs, back, and shoulders ached with tension. A failing attempt to protect myself and hide my own arousal.

“Do you trust me?” Anthony gathered my dress in his palms.

How did I manage to speak? “Yes, sir.”

“Do you want me to touch you?”

A trick question? I hesitated.

“Talk to me, pet.” His voice wove like silk against my skin. “Tell me what you want.”

“I don’t know.”

“You shouldn’t have to think it. Just feel it. What does your body tell you?”

If I knew that, I wouldn’t still be a virgin. “I trust you, Anthony. With everything. With me. With my body. With…”

“With your pleasure?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Then close your eyes…” The graze of his fingertips spread like wildfire over my skin. “And let me show you the meaning of submission.”

Nothing sounded better or more frightening.

After a week of separation, I’d prepared to give him every bit of myself. But I’d imagined a bed. Candlelight and roses.

Not…here.

This wasn’t his luxurious bedroom. It was the middle of Duchess, the heart and soul of their entertainment. As clinical as a doctor’s office and as damning as any stage where I had ever performed.

Conversations whipped around us. Women laughed. Ice clinked in drinks, and phones buzzed with messages. But Anthony touched me, burning.

I saw only him—his dark eyes, the hair tucked around his face, his broad shoulders, his chest. Every breath filled me with his scent.

He bought the dress for me.

And now he’d remove it.

“I want them to see you, pet,” he said. “Let them feast on your body, envy how soft your skin is beneath my fingers. I want them to imagine just how warm you are pressed against me.” His voice lowered. “It’s been too long since I’ve seen you, Morgan. Don’t let me go mad with lust.”

This wasn’t madness?

I bit my lip, but Anthony moved slowly. The dress slipped up, over my body, my shoulders my head.

Anthony’s breath released as he saw me. Mine got stuck somewhere in my chest.

Duchess quieted—the sort of stillness that signified power and wickedness. Someone oohed from the shadows.

My pulse raced. They could see me. Everyone could see me. Only a strapless bra protected my breasts, and lower? I wore a thong.

A thong.

The only one I’d ever purchased—and it was such a lacy, worthless scrap of cloth I could hardly justify the price.

But it’d looked good under the dress. Hopefully it’d protect me a bit more now. That bit of silk was all that shielded me from the eyes of two dozen strangers.

And Anthony.

But he knew what wetted beneath.

“Lovely, pet.”

My legs still crossed, clenched so tightly I didn’t know if it was my own arousal or blinding fear that kept them closed. His lips sucked and nibbled along my neck, each point of contact racing my heart.

“Let me closer, pet.”

Closer. Right. Except I didn’t remember how to move. Or breathe.

His hands hooked under my knee, and slowly, with deliberate care, he opened my legs.

His body moved in, his pants grinding against my wetness.

This was too much. How did this look to them? A half-naked woman straddling her date? Legs wrapping over his waist. Body trembling with need?

This was dirty. Slutty.

It was me, once more the center of attention.

Anthony’s heat wound against my exposed skin. He was excited. More than excited. His hardness throbbed against his pants. He pressed it against me. I liked the feel, but…

How far did he expect this to go?

He brushed the bra, his hands large against the soft skin of my back. He flicked the clasp with a lazy finger. The material opened. I gripped it to my chest, but Anthony’s chastisement forced my arms to my side.

He tugged on the material.

The bra fell away.

And everything…

Changed.

The sounds in the room. The intensity of their stares.

Most men went insane protecting their woman’s modesty. Anthony stripped me specifically to entertain a room full of strange men. He encouraged them to look. Even though it was my body, I was his pet. And his smile darkened as my chest bared to everyone.

He rubbed a thumb over my pebbled nipple. I flinched away in shock.

“Sensitive, little girl?”

A few people chuckled. I froze, but Anthony called to me, stealing my attention. His stare bore into mine. A reminder. I could tell him to stop. I could shout for my clothes and run from Duchess, and he would be there to deliver me safely to my apartment.

His hands never left my body.

I stayed quiet.

“You’re safe,” he said. I believed him. “And you’re mine.”

His hands drifted lower. I knew where they headed. His fingers hooked against the thong, but his lips distracted me. Kissing. Caressing. Murmuring soft words of safety and protection.

The material slipped over my hips. I braced myself on his shoulders as he peeled it from my body, casting it aside to the pile of abandoned clothing on the floor. He licked a gentle path to my nipple, flicking the painfully tightened bud before slipping it into the warmth of his mouth. My lips parted, but I didn’t allow myself to make a sound.

I couldn’t.

They’d hear it.

My mind reeled. He sucked against me, pulling even more of my nipple into his possession. Every nerve ending traced to my core.

My exposed and wet pussy.

My eyes peeked open. More members had found their way into the room, and every one of them watched as Anthony explored me. Thomas and Shannon, Nate and Mariah, Genn and Reed.

Simone.

People I recognized and strangers I’d never met whispered with their submissives, all eagerly awaiting Anthony’s next move.

Was this what drove him wild? Everyone admired my body, from my hardened nipples to my soft mound. They saw how badly I needed him. Watched how I opened my legs, exposed and trembling. They practically applauded as I gave into his touch.

Then he pushed me down.

And I came undone.

I feared the dark thoughts spinning in my mind, the churning desire in my belly, and every preconceived notion of what was good and right and proper…

“She’s a virgin.”

I stiffened as Anthony announced it to the room.

What was he doing?

Simone took the hint, slithering closer and claiming a chair right behind me. Had I opened my eyes, I might have seen her examining me, leaning over, smiling as Anthony spread my legs wider.

“We’ve never had a virgin in Duchess before.” Simone’s tease trembled through me. “Anthony’s been kind enough to organize something…special.”

His touch traveled down, past my tightened nipples and quivering stomach. His finger stroked my slit, and I bit my lip, suppressing a soft whimper from escaping. He brought the finger to my lips. My eyes went wide, but he waited.

Slowly, I opened my mouth and sucked.

A murmur of excitement charged through the audience.

Anthony stared at me. “Morgan’s promised herself to me.”

The room whispered amongst themselves. Complimented my youth, my beauty…

My virginity.

“Have you ever seen such beautiful skin?” Simone asked them. “Untouched. And those little chocolate nipples? Criminally un-sucked. And what waits for us a little lower…”

Anthony’s finger flicked over my clit. Soft, knowing caresses against the most sensitive part of me.

Simone met Anthony’s gaze with a brazen grin. She spoke to everyone watching, baiting them with vulgar words to lean a little, stare a little harder. “This is a tight, virgin pussy. Unlicked. Unbroken. Unfucked. Tonight, for your entertainment…our beautiful Morgan is offering her innocence to Anthony. Tonight, you will watch as Anthony deflowers this sweet, naïve girl. He’ll break through that innocence, fuck her bare and unprotected, and then pound her sweet virginity into complete submission.”

The audience hummed. Shifted.

Murmured in excitement.

My body frayed into a bundle of buzzing nerves, sparking and twisting under his touch.

It was too much. I trembled, and they saw. I wetted, and they knew.

Anthony mastered by body with a whisper and a kiss.

I laid back for their enjoyment, exposed and vulnerable as Anthony spread my legs wider, just to reveal my glisteningly bare slit to any who desired to look upon a virgin pussy.

No coherent thought formed in my head. I’d become a creature of pure emotion, a slave to my own orgasm. Lust and fear battled in my soul, depending on Anthony to become their champion.

Anthony kissed everywhere, beginning with my nipples and slowly treading down. My muscles paralyzed as he encroached lower.

I didn’t have time to use the safe word.

His tongue pressed between my legs and nestled within the wet folds of my pussy. He licked, a single, long promise. Any thought of safe words and stopping, mercy and fear, evaporated into a numbing, blinding bliss.

Lightning struck me. Every nerve ending came alive. Anthony’s tongue curled around me. He pried me open, lapped at my insides and swallowed every ounce of wetness I offered. My lips parted, and a whimper escaped. I dug my nails into the table.

And now I was getting off in front of an audience.

Men and women, submissives and dominants, watching as Anthony pleasured me with his skilled tongue.

The disgrace rivaled the urgent need cresting inside of me. I couldn’t let it happen. Cumming here would be worse than at the pool. At least then only Anthony and Simone knew.

But now, here?

All these people—all of his friends—waiting. Eagerly viewing the show and whispering with each other about my body. My reactions. How long I could hold out.

Not much longer…

The pleasure was endless. He explored my slit, his tongue darting inside me, tasting all of my secrets. His lips curled around my clit and sucked. Way too intense. My body rolled and shook and sweated. I flinched away, torn between begging for mercy and pleading for more.

How could I resist him?

How could I not?

Our audience watched, waited, urged me to come. Their attention burned through me.

Shame. Terror. Absolute seduction.

Anthony’s skill and devotion blistered me with every lick, and nothing could prevent the inevitable. Not while my body built its own defenses and then demolished them from the inside.

I twisted, imploding with a flushed heat that bubbled and erupted outwards with relentless demand. I clutched at Anthony, I whispered his name. Begged him to stop and continue and ruin me.

The orgasm burst through me, powerful enough to crack bone but soft, smothering me with a feather. I arched. Cried out. Trembled.

Surrendered to every last ounce of humiliation, degradation, and pleasure.

This was torture.

Sweet, endless, twisted torture.

And all the while…

Those watching?

They talked about me.

Mariah and Nate whispered about how tiny I looked, absolutely swallowed in Anthony’s massive shadow. Thomas chided Shannon, reminding her that only good girls got their pussies licked. Reed and Genn giggled about something—I couldn’t hear and I was sure to be mortified if I knew what they said about me spreading my legs and whimpering in pleasure.

“Feel good, pet?” And of course, Simone talked to me. “Look how you’re shaking.”

The demon sipped from her drink and captured a ringside seat to my delightful misery. She leaned back, her feet crossed at her ankles on the table, boots near my side. She toasted Anthony.

“How’s she taste?”

Anthony actually moved away from my pussy, showing her the swollen little secret. “Like a strawberry.”

“I knew it.” She accepted the applause of the audience. “Nate, you owe me a hundred dollars.”

Nate groaned. “I really thought she’d be a honey-girl.”

I panted. They bet on my taste?

I covered my face, trying to roll away. Anthony’s gaze paralyzed me.

He wasn’t done showing me off. Simone coo’ed as he spread me wide, flicking my aching clit with his finger.

“So dark…” Simone’s voice laced with a gloating praise. “But look at the little hint of pink inside. Just begging for more, Anthony.”

“She’s so tiny,” he breathed.

“A little virgin like her? She’ll break before you can stuff just half of your cock into her.”

“Not if I’m gentle.”

Simone shook her head, her smile wicked. “Oh, poor thing. Her first time, and she’ll be mounted by a beast. That tiny pussy will be absolutely ravished by such a thick cock. It’s almost too unbearable to watch.” Her eyebrow arched. “Almost. But…then again, I’m a sadist.”

I tensed, but Anthony shushed Simone. Too little, too late.

The idea already filled his mind, strengthened his muscles, coursed through his veins. An animalistic desire carved into his features. He studied the frantic rise and fall of my chest. My head still swirled, body limp from the orgasm.

He didn’t care.

This was how he wanted me.

Spent. Helpless.

Begging for more.

He kissed me. I tasted myself on his lips. Groaned.

All of this aroused him. The audience. My nudity. My responsiveness.

He stared at me, a raging aggression threading his movements.

“Do you trust me, pet?”

I nodded. Tried to form the words. Failed.

“It’s time, Morgan.”

“T—time?”

My words wavered. The audience liked that. A chorus of awws patronized me into silence.

“Do you know what happens now?” he asked. “What will happen once I take you?”

I had my guesses, but I assumed they’d all be wrong, lost to a desire I didn’t yet understand.

His voice drew into a hungering, possessive growl that challenged the last thread of my resolve.

“I’m going to take you, pet. Fully. My cock will fill every part of you. No matter how tiny. No matter how innocent. By the end of tonight, I’ll have come inside your pussy, and you will forever belong to me.”

He undid the buttons of his vest, flicking them open. It fell away, as did the dress shirt underneath.

Then he reached for his belt.

I understood, but I didn’t. I didn’t believe it. Hadn’t expected it.

Hadn’t hoped I’d be so goddamned lucky.

Anthony was going to fuck me. He’d take me here, while the entire world watched me surrender my virginity to a man I’d call my master.

The vision of a warm bed and tangled sheets evaporated from my mind, crushed into dust, and blew away with my gasp. He tossed the belt. Simone caught it, taking the opportunity to grip my hands, stretch my arms over my head, and bind my wrists within the leather.

I shivered, but the thread of fear dissolved in my lust. I hadn’t been bound before.

How else would he have taken me?

The room went silent.

I stared only at Anthony.

“I need to hear it, pet,” he whispered.

So did I, or I’d never believe I’d done something so terrible. So illicit.

So amazing.

What was it I’d ask for? I laid back, bound under a woman’s hands, my legs parted for a man I’d only just begun to understand. For as dark as the thoughts were shadowing my mind, my body came to life.

The wetness coated between my legs, not just my slit. My desire spread to my thighs, my bottom. It probably puddled on the table. Anthony stood too far from me, allowing a brush of cool air to tickle over my body. I flinched, scorched hot and chilled. My insides clenched and released, desperately seeking that unknowable hardness to grip.

“Please, sir.”

“Please, what?”

“Please…take me.”

“Tell me what you want, Morgan.”

“Be my first time…” It was too innocent for Duchess, but I meant every word. “Please…I want you to be my first. Show me. Teach me. Just…” I arched. “Just take me.”

“Of course, pet…”

He worked quickly, releasing his hardened, massive cock from his pants. He kicked the slacks away, and the sheer size of him silenced the few giggling subs.

He stood naked, without a care, absolutely gorgeous in his power and control. But what did he have to fear?

I was the virgin sacrifice, bound to an altar in praise of him.

His belt tightened over my hands, held firm by Simone. He moved between my legs. I tensed.

“Easy, pet.” Anthony gently caressed my heated slit, rubbing the head of his cock against my folds. “Take all the time you need. They aren’t going anywhere.”

Neither was I, paralyzed as I waited for the moment everything in my life would change.

Every stroke of his cock dizzied me. He pressed hard against my clit, forcing a gasp. My body trembled, so wet every quiver nearly drove him within me before I was ready.

I’d never be ready. My stomach twisted, and the pressure built in both my body and soul.

“Please…” My mouth dried. “Now.”

Before I change my mind.

Before I exploded on the spot.

Before I begged any louder for all to hear.

The room silenced until only my breathy mews echoed from the walls. Every stare focused on me. Waiting. Wondering.

Anthony pushed against me, his cock intimidatingly large. I held my breath. My body quivered, tensed, refusing him entry.

“Pet…” The warmth in his voice amazed me. “Submit to me. This is what you were meant to do. Give yourself to me.”

And I did.

His cock edged in as far as my body permitted, a mere inch. The strain stole my breath. That was good. I might have cried out if I had the air.

“Look at me.” His order was easy to follow. I lost myself in his gaze, shaking against the sheer size of him. “I promise—this is how you submit.”

He thrusted.

A brief, blinding pinch that tore through me. Anthony buried himself in me only a few inches, but it was done.

He’d taken it.

Broken through.

My moan betrayed me, revealing the exact moment Anthony claimed me as his.

The crowd cheered, excited whistles and applause quickly shushed by a stern Simone.

I didn’t hear them.

I couldn’t see them.

I couldn’t think of anything.

Except him.

The breath fled from my lungs in a silent sigh. I stretched for him to the breaking point, and still he demanded more from me.

His hands cupped my waist, holding me still as I twitched and arched.

One inch. Then another. I whined. He opened me wider, stepped closer.

I couldn’t fight it. He watched me, petting my clit with a gentle swirl of his finger.

My body surrendered. He forced forward.

And he filled me completely.

My body came alive. His cock pulsed, harder and bigger than anything I had a right to expect.

I stretched over him, clenched as he rolled my clit between his thumb and forefinger. And still he waited. I arched and breathed and gripped at the belt binding my hands for a way to escape the overwhelming conquest. My gasps turned ragged, rushed breaths struggling to speak his name. I twisted my hips. The movement only drove him deeper.

“How does my cock feel, pet?” His victorious whisper struck me harder than his cock. “Is it stretching you? Forcing you open?”

Yes, I couldn’t wait to feel more. The pain had faded, but I had no idea if I could handle his size. I groaned.

The room watched me struggle to take my first cock.

And they loved my every helpless whimper and frightened twisting.

They watched me, flat on my back, Anthony sliding inside me. I mewed. They knew why. I shifted, searching for relief. They chuckled, loving my body’s resistance to a man stronger and more powerful than me.

And I couldn’t hide how good it felt.

I’d tumbled over my own limits, and I had nothing left to offer or hide.

I was his now. Not a woman, but a pet. A slave getting fucked. A hot, wet pussy offered to fulfill the needs of her master.

I moaned. Anthony rubbed my clit a little harder. I flinched, wetting even more, clenching over the hardness impaling me. He controlled me too easily—so thoroughly I bucked and begged and fought against the restraints just to offer more of myself to him.

Anthony hadn’t begun to move yet. He simply filled me, stuffed me with his cock and forced me to endure the pressure of his invasion while he played with my body.

And it worked.

My embarrassment faded. The audience dissolved into the rush of blood in my ears.

I ground my hips. Anthony slapped my stomach, pressing hard. Pushing on him from the outside.

“No, pet,” he warned. “Lay still and take this cock. Don’t misbehave.”

Misbehave?

Oh God.

Another test. Another series of rituals and rules.

Anthony pulled his cock from me with an agonizing slowness, making sure I felt every last inch of him drag from my tightness.

“Good girl…”

He pushed inside. I yelped.

He repeated the motion. Faster.

Out so slowly I thought I’d lose my mind with anticipation. Then crashed back into my secret, deep and unrelenting.

My body adjusted to his demands. Pull out almost completely. Cry with emptiness. Push in fully. Moan and shift under him.

Again and again.

He seized a rhythm that drove my body into a haze of confusion, but it wasn’t meant for pleasure. He had a purpose.

Anthony ensured I felt his every thrust.

That I understood why he forced himself into my virgin slit in a solid rhythm of dominance.

He pinned me to the table and earned a whimpered cry with each push inside.

This was fucking.

Not love-making. Not fooling around.

He fucked me because I was his pet, and my body, mind, and pleasure belonged solely to him. He owned my body and every mewing, humiliating reaction that came with it.

Simone soothed me this time, though her gaze met Anthony’s, enjoying their conquest. “That’s it, Morgan. Spread your legs a little wider. Let everyone see how much of his cock you can take in that virgin cunt.”

The word shocked me.

The heat suffocated me.

And just imagining how it looked to them nearly sent me over the edge.

Anthony loomed over me, his hips bucking into my dripping slit. I offered my body, and he seized my wetness.

In and out.

Filling me.

Claiming me.

The pleasure blinded me. His movements were degrading and horrible and natural and perfect. He was no lover. He was master of my body. He was the one who understood my needs. Who fucked me. Owned me. Mounted me with such a possessive jealousy I cried out, promising I belonged to him and him only.

My body shuddered and rolled. My voice dissolved into shrill cries with each thrust. I didn’t care who could hear. His stride broke. No longer fucking to prove his dominance. That lesson was learned, absolutely incontestable and thoroughly understood.

Now he took me because I belonged to him.

And the need darkened his features.

I opened my hips, offering more to him. I wanted to feel it. His cock. His hardness. His excitement.

Such a confusing empowerment. I was at his mercy, but I brought him to the point where his fingers dug into my waist. He controlled me, but my tightness nearly broke him.

He hauled my body down, impaling me with every thrust. My cries became an endless moan, each sound punctuated by his rough actions.

I came, without warning, without thinking.

Just came.

I sweated, trembled, and turned to stone. The pleasure pulsed wild and shook me to my core. I had no choice. No warning. My body had acted without my mind because it didn’t understand what this was, how intense it’d be, how thoroughly he’d control me.

I had no time to recover or breathe. Anthony fucked me. Used me. Stretched me upon his thickness for his own pleasure, and I was helpless to refuse. He pounded against the table, our bodies grinding together.

The moment lasted forever—me acting as his willing and desperate pet, taking all he could offer just to please him.

While they watched.

While I came.

While Anthony grunted in pleasure.

He gripped my hips hard. I knew what would happen next. I braced myself as his movements turned feral. He took what he needed. His cock hardened. My insides tightened.

“I’m going to claim you…” He spoke not to me but to any of the men in all of Duchess who would dare to challenge his possession of me. “I’ll come inside you, pet. Coat you with my seed. Mark you as mine.”

“Please…” My words blended with a moan. “Sir, please.”

“You belong to me, pet.” Three punishing stabs and he roared, pushing inside me as far as my abused body allowed. “You are mine.”

His cum filled me to the brim.

Primitive. Deliberate. So carnal I’d have panicked if it hadn’t felt so right.

Heat rushed within me, triggering yet another orgasm that tore through my bruised and broken body. He stayed deep within me, pinning me against him, drowning me in his searing seed. I arched, bumbling, rising, panting. Head to toe, inside out, I shuddered and cried.

I didn’t come with him.

I came because of him.

Because of his scent and the hardness of his cock stretching me open.

I came because of the slickness he left behind.

My orgasm hadn’t subsided. I shook in his arms as he pulled out. The shivers followed.

So did the mess.

His cum soaked me.

He moved away so everyone could see.

Like a work of art. Like a freshly fucked slut.

His seed coated my pussy, and everyone complimented how beautiful his seed looked trickling from my once-virgin slit.

Anthony’s lips found mine. He nibbled, though his breathless kiss broke into a smile. He ran a hand through his loose hair, his chest and arms straining in sweaty muscle.

“You did very well, pet.” His voice rumbled in my stomach. “Very well.”

I did well?

The world crashed back around me. The music returned first—the pulsing dance beat. Then the shifting of bodies and creaking of chairs. Giggling. Conversations.

I did well?

Oh God.

What the hell did I just do?