Kept Pt. 01

I gritted my teeth as Julian's thick cock plunged into me.

"That's a good girl," he groaned, as he began slowly thrusting his hips. Even after being violated by him hundreds of times, it didn't get any easier accepting another man's penis inside me. I say "another man," but had anyone been watching, they would have seen only one muscular man in his tailored tuxedo as he doggy-styled a slim blonde in an indecently short, black mini-dress in a spacious, unisex bathroom.

Even with Julian's steadying hands around my waist, the five-inch stiletto sandals I was wearing meant that every time he thrust forward I was at risk of falling over. Reluctantly, I put my delicately manicured hands against the wall to steady myself, crimson nails standing out sharply against the pristine tiles. I knew it looked like I was trying to push back against his cock, which is why I was loathe to do it, and sure enough Julian took it as such.

"Seems like you want to feel good, too, Jennie," he whispered, breath hot against my ears.

"F-fuck you, asshole," I said shakily.

"Oh, I think your asshole is the one that's getting fucked." With that, he forced the entirety of his eight inches inside me until I could feel his balls clap against mine. When he was this deep, his cock put immense pressure against my prostate and I moaned involuntarily even as I hated myself for it. This is for the money, I told myself. You don't fucking like this.

"I love how girly you sound," he said, as he smoothly moved one hand off my waist and to the front of my chest. Leaning his upper body over me, his warm, moist tongue caressed my earlobes, heavy with large, silver hoop earrings, even as his hand began pinching my nipple through my dress. Jolts of electricity shot through my body as my own erection sprang free of the black lace panties that had been containing it.

"Not fair," I protested weakly, even as Julian began sucking on my neck. From months of exploring my body, he knew that was one of the most sensitive parts of my body, and my entire body twitched accordingly. My sphincter must have also contracted, because I could feel as well as hear Julian's breathing begin to quicken, a sure sign that he was about to cum.

Fuck, I hated when he came inside me. Out of all the degrading, emasculating things that he made me do, shooting his seed into my ass was by far the worst. It marked me as his conquest, his woman.

As I suspected, his fingers soon dug into my waist painfully as I felt my ass getting filled by his thick, hot semen. Don't cum, don't cum, don't cum, I berated myself, but the combination of pleasure emanating from my prostate, nipples, and neck was too much, and I shot my own load into the toilet beneath me.

We panted loudly as we caught our breaths, and I felt his massive cock slowly begin to slide out of me, leaving me with an aching emptiness. You don't like men, this is just your body reacting to stimulus, I told myself.

"Keep it inside you," he commanded, as I knew he would, and I obediently clenched my asshole to keep his masculine seed inside. "Now clean me off."

I cringed even as I put the toilet seat down and sat on it, the cold porcelain a stark contrast to the raging heat that had been pressed against my ass just moments ago. Reluctantly, I opened my painted, ruby lips as he slid his lube- and cum-covered cock into my mouth. I had cleaned myself out earlier so it was as sanitary as it was ever going to be, but still, the utter humiliation of it all brought tears to my eyes.

Yet at this point I had already gotten used to the taste of the mixture of lube, Julian's cum, and my own ass, and so I closed my eyes and began polishing off his softening cock with gentle bobbing motions of my head.

"Good girl," I heard him say, as he stroked my hair patronizingly. "Oh, and make sure my cum is inside you when we get home. I'm not going to lube you again when I fuck you later."

I angrily spat out his now-clean cock, and began rummaging through my Chanel clutch for the stainless steel plug that I always carried. As I reached behind myself and slid the cold plug inside me, ensuring that his thick semen would stay inside me for the rest of the gala, the feeling of the steel sliding inside me was almost a welcome respite from the strange longing I was feeling in my ass. What the fuck is happening to me? Staring up at him defiantly through bleary eyes, I pulled up my sexy, black panties and tucked myself back so that no telltale bulge would show under my skintight dress.

Amused by my anger, Julian smirked condescendingly as held out a hand to help me up, knowing I would be unable to stand on my own in my sky-high stilettos. It was infuriating, being so helpless in front of him, but I knew that was what Julian truly got off on, more than the sex.

I avoided his eyes as I reached out, and his large, warm, hand enclosed my slim one as he gently pulled me to my feet. But my legs must have still been weak from my prostate orgasm earlier, because my knees buckled and I teetered into his broad, chiseled chest.

Instinctively, I looped my arms up and around his neck to keep myself from falling. At 6'7", Julian towered over me even in my tallest heels, and I felt his hands steadying my slim waist. I blushed and pointedly looked away. Stop letting him make you feel like some lovesick little girl, I reminded myself furiously. This is for the money.

He leaned in slowly, and I knew what he wanted. I closed my eyes and turned my head towards him, mouth parted. His warm lips pressed against mine as our tongues entwined, and I could taste the red wine on his breath. I could feel the rush of blood into my tucked-back cock, and felt betrayed by my own body.

Julian broke off our kiss and smiled, not unkindly. "Shall we get back to the party before the others wonder where we went?"

I nodded mutely as he unlocked the bathroom door. Thankfully, there was nobody waiting outside and I didn't have to avoid any judgmental stares or scandalized whispers. Julian strode out confidently, and I teetered after him in my heels, the warm semen in my ass a constant reminder of how I had willingly bargained away every last shred of my masculinity for financial security. Just one more month, I told myself. One more month, and you can return to your life as a straight male, except instead of being broke you'll be a millionaire.

Before I could stop it, an intrusive voice manifested itself: but what's so bad about being Julian's kept woman? Every possible thing you want, he'll buy for you. You get to travel the world. You have social status and as much sex as you want. Girls want to be you and guys want to fuck you. A million dollars won't last you very long in this economy, after all...

I suppressed that line of thought in panic, as it would likely lead to possibilities that I steadfastly refused to consider. Yet the little voice refused to be silenced.

But what if...?

TO BE CONTINUED...