Page 8 of Serving Her Sentence

This was what it meant to be owned. To have traded a jail sentence for sexual slavery. To belong to a man who wanted to use her holes for sex.

There was barely time for her to suck as he fucked her mouth almost brutally, barely giving her time to breathe before shoving his cock back down her throat again.Tears slid down her face again, her throat burned from the head of his cock plunging in, and her lungs burned nearly as badly as she tried to gulp in air between his thrusts.

Some reactive part of her, some self-defense mechanism, made her want to close her jaw, just to get a moment of reprieve... but then she looked up into his hard eyes, saw the sadistic smile as he face-fucked her, and she quailed.

Endured.

And her pussy dripped.

Noelle closed her eyes, trying to pretend she was somewhere else—anywhere else—but it was useless.

Her thighs were slick as he used her, her body responding despite the humiliation, knowing she was being watched, despite the impersonal way he was fucking her mouth, despite the pain he'd inflicted—and was continuing to inflict—on her. Or maybe because of it.

The ache in her jaw increased as he used her hair to control her movements, which were rougher, more erratic.

“Look at me.” His voice was a deep growl.

She opened her eyes, raising them. The expression on his face was almost a snarl, his fingers hard in her hair as he thrust deep. His cock pushed into her throat, his hands holding her tightly against his groin. Noelle's airway was completely cut off, but before she could panic, he pulsed against her tongue. He groaned, shuddering as he came.

Her throat worked convulsively, swallowing the hot liquid spilling straight down to her belly. The lack of air made her light-headed as he emptied what felt like a gallon of cum into her. It was all she could do to not let go of her elbows and use her hands to push him back, so she could breathe. It was as if her entire world dwindled to two things—swallowing his cum and the need for air.

As soon as she finished the first, she received the second again.

Damian's hands—her brain supplied his first name as if to make him less intimidating within her own mind—released her hair, and his softening cock withdrew from her mouth, leaving her gasping. The inside of her throat felt raw, her lips swollen and bruised from the oral abuse, and several more tears slid down her cheeks to drip onto her breasts. She could taste the last bit of his cum, salty and sweet, on her tongue.

“Not bad,” he said, patting the top of her head almost consolingly. “We'll work on it. Now, stand up and bend over the table. I want to see the rest of you.”

Her entire body quivered in horrified anticipation, even as her traitorous pussy clenched.

3

Damian stood back, watching her with his heavy, scrutinizing gaze, his cock limp but still half-hard and hanging out the opening in his pants. Noelle got to her feet, using her hands because she didn't think she could stand without them right now.

Everything ached—her jaw, her knees, her breasts, the cheeks of her ass—especially her pussy, which made her flush with humiliation because that part of her wasn't aching from abuse or pain. It ached with need. She wanted to tell herself it was just from the auctioneer playing with her and not bringing her to orgasm, but she knew that wasn't the whole truth.

His dark eyes bore into her, and she slowly turned away from him. Having him at her back only made her more anxious. She knew what he was going to see when she bent over. There was only so long she could delay before bending at the waist, bracing her upper body with her forearms against the hard wood.

When she heard him chuckle, she thought she might die from shame and embarrassment. There was something wrong with her. There had to be. Even the auctioneer said she was the most aroused he'd ever seen from those who had chosen the same sentence.

“Even wetter than before,” he observed, dark satisfaction lacing his voice. Noelle whimpered as he pushed two fingers into her soaked pussy.

It was all wrong, so wrong.

But it felt so good.

“You are a delightful slut, aren't you?” he asked, withdrawing his fingers. “No wonder you chose this sentence.”

She wanted to protest but wasn't sure she could completely deny his allegation. After all, shehadchosen this sentence, just as he said, although she was already questioning her own motivations.

He plucked at the base of the plug, making her squirm as he pushed it back and forth, twisting it and setting her nerve endings alight. Her sore nipples brushed against the table, the sensitive buds adding to the mix of sensations.

“And an anal virgin,” he said, almost wonderingly. There was emotion in his voice she didn't recognize, but it sent a shiver up her spine. She was acutely aware of her helplessness, of how much smaller and weaker she was. Having the thick length of his cock in her mouth, the idea of taking him in her ass was enough to make her want to weep again... yet her pussy spasmed hungrily at the very idea.

The way he was toying with the plug wasn’t entirely unpleasant, in fact, it felt kind of good. Her muscles clenched as he tugged it, pulling the bulb against her sphincter—only enough to put pressure against it, not enough to actually stretch the tight ring.

“You were a naughty girl earlier, weren't you?” he asked, his voice turning darker. Noelle bit her lip, frantically trying to think of what he was talking about—when she'd tried to keep him from pinching her nipples so roughly?

SMACK!