Slave to the Dictator (The Initiation 3 Book 1)

Potchenko reaches for my pussy. I stand very still - my heart beating fast - as he wrests my outer labia from my clit, peeling them off as if they are pomegranate slices. My poor throbbing clit - so sensitized, so vulnerable - is revealed like a gold nugget in its sea of cocooned flesh.

What does he think of me when he looks at me? I am arrested by his obsidian eyes. I am drowning in them even though his gaze is focused on my pussy.

He seizes my clit in between his index finger and thumb. My skin there is on fire, and as he applies the pressure, a deep erotic tendril shoots through my entire cunt, flushing the entire front of my body scarlet right up to my cheeks.

"Ohhhhh," I moan, unable to help myself.

His gaze darts upward to my face. "You like it, do you not?"

"Y-yes."

"You will call me Master."

"Yes, M-master." I have not called anyone by that for a long, long time. I savor the word on my tongue. It makes me feel calmer. In my place.

He squeezes my clit further, sending me into spasms. I stiffen my back. My fists are bunched. I dare not touch him or place my hands on his shoulders, as I normally would if someone is playing with my pussy. I think I can climax just by letting him compress the nerve bundles in my clit into a flattened piece of ecstatic flesh.

I whimper again, feeling embarrassed by my wanton need.

He withdraws his hand.

"You like it too much."

I nod helplessly.

"You will be punished for that."

My blood runs cold. What does he mean?