"Ya that's how come God made you my bitch boi. No gag reflex. Too bad, I like it when my bitches struggle." Every word he said was a dagger to me. 'My...bitches'? How many times had he done this? When was it going to stop?... This went on for what felt like hours, even though I'm sure it was much less. My jaw started to ache, my throat felt sore and scratchy from his big cock pressed in me, and I had a bad taste in my mouth... probably the taste of my ass... ugh... And then I finally got to. We had been hard at it for nearly an hour, and her large rope bed was still creaking and popping with our joint efforts, the dark headboard thumping the wall. My back ached and my legs were on the edge of cramping.My goal, other than sexual pleasure which I had surely achieved beyond any man’s needs, was to make a cuckold of her beastly husband and so disgrace him that we could assassinate him with impunity, a ploy we had used at least once before successfully. It had been Madam Von R--’s. More

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