LOGINTAKING THE BILLIONAIRE’S COCK ON MY FLIGHT: A PILOT'S TALE 1I wouldn't have thought that there'd be a day I’d be getting my ass destroyed in the economy cabin of my own flight, but here I was — Sex freak Captain Elias Voss, thirty-two years old, bent over the last row of seats with my uniform pants around my ankles and Gora’s thick cock slamming into me like he owned the sky.Gora was fifty-four, a self-made billionaire who looked like he could still bench-press a small car. Salt-and-pepper hair, sharp jaw, powerful body wrapped in an expensive charcoal suit that was now open at the front. His cock, ten thick inches, veined and heavy, was buried balls-deep in my hole, stretching me wide with every brutal thrust. The wet, filthy sound of skin slapping skin echoed through the empty economy section. The plane was on autopilot, my co-pilot in the cockpit would be thinking I was “checking on a passenger issue.” But here I was, getting my hole ruined. And the most interesting part of the
WRECKED BY MY MASTER: TALE OF A SEX SLAVE 2“Please, Sir… fuck me harder— ruin my hole— I’m your slut—destroy me!”He gave me exactly what I begged for.He pulled out, uncuffed me, and dragged me to the St. Andrew’s cross on the wall at the end of the playroom. He strapped me, face against the cross, arms and legs spread wide. Then he picked up the paddle.Ten perfect stripes ran across my ass and thighs, each one sharp and burning, making me sob and shake. When he was done, he pressed his body against my back, cock sliding between my cheeks, and whispered filthy words of praise in my ear while he reached around to play with my caged cock.“You’re so fucking pretty when you cry… especially for me.”“T-Thank you, master.” The appreciation came out of my mouth as a muffled stutter.I felt his thick cock stretched my ring as it slowly made its way deep into me. His big palm still playing with my leaking cock.Just halfway in, a moan escaped my lips, coupled with the muffled groans from
WRECKED BY MY MASTER: THE TALE OF A SEX SLAVE 1I knelt naked in the center of the dimly lit playroom, wrists locked behind my back in thick leather cuffs, a heavy metal collar locked tight around my throat. My cock was already rock-hard and leaking, trapped in a tight steel cock cage that Master had snapped on the moment I walked through the door. I was twenty-two, smooth, toned from years of anxious gym sessions, and tonight I was nothing but a set of holes for him to use.Master, as I was trained to call him, was my owner. Funny enough, I don't even know his real name. He had paid a huge sum on the dark website to purchase me as his pet. So tonight, and perhaps, henceforth? I'd be ruined my him. Ruined till he was pleased. Ruined till my voice cracked from moaning and my eyes were dried of tears, from intense crying and pleasure.He stood in front of me — probably forty-five, and six-foot-four, built like a god who lifted heavy and fucked harder. His chest was thick with dark hair,
PROF. BEN, THE JANITOR AND I 3He groaned in satisfaction and fucked me even harder, the sound of skin slapping skin echoing through the office. I was completely helpless, wrists tightly bound behind my back with the scarf as Professor Ben fucked me relentlessly over his desk, pulling my hips back to meet every savage thrust. I was moaning shamelessly, tears of overwhelming pleasure leaking from my eyes.Professor Ben leaned over me, biting my shoulder as he drove deeper. “Good boy. You did well waiting. This hole belongs to me…now.”He kept pounding me without mercy, his heavy balls slapping against my ass cheeks, both of us moaning and cursing as he claimed me completely on his desk.My chest was pressed against the wood, ass up, legs spread wide while he gripped my hips and continued to drive his thick, curved cock into me with long, powerful strokes. Each time it felt like his grip was losing on my hips, he would alternate and pull my tied wrist instead. Every thrust made the d
PROF BEN, THE JANITOR AND I 2He asked me question after question, even when my hand wasn’t up. His eyes stayed on me longer than necessary, sharp and intense. I sat there red-faced the entire lecture, my hole still tender and aching from the cucumber.When the class finally ended and students started leaving, his voice cut through the noise:“Lucas. Stay behind. I need to see you in my office after classes.”My heart slammed against my ribs. I swallowed hard and nodded.“Yes, Professor.”I stood outside Professor Ben's office door, heart hammering so hard I felt dizzy. I knocked softly and heard his deep voice call out, “Come in.”He was already inside, leaning against the front of his desk in a crisp white shirt with the sleeves rolled up. My eyes immediately landed on the items placed neatly on the desk beside him: a bottle of lube and a long, dark scarf. My mouth suddenly went dry.“Close the door, Lucas,” he said calmly.I stepped in and shut it behind me.“Lock it.”He mumbled c
PROF. BEN, THE JANITOR AND I 1I couldn’t take it anymore. Throughout the years I'd been in this college, I’d been jerking off furiously every night thinking about Professor Ben, his deep voice, the way his shirt stretched across his broad chest, those intense eyes that made me weak. I was done fantasizing. Done cumming into my hand while imagining him fucking me. So that evening, heart pounding in my throat, I walked to his office in the quiet humanities building, ready to beg for even just one night with him. At the moment, I wasn't going to give a dime for whatever the outcome of my approach would produce.Fuck it. Fuck the damn outcome. Do not blame me, I just thought that I would lose my mind—if not tonight when I'd be jerking off, as it has become my routine—then soonest, if I wasn't gonna take a damn bold step.The door was slightly open when I reached his office. I heard sounds before I even reached it, low, rough grunts and the sharp slap of skin on skin.I froze, then ge
**Rowan's pov**The lecture hall cleared in a slow shuffle of zippers and footsteps. I stayed in my seat, paper crushed in my fist until the edges tore. Red ink slashed across the top: 58. Fail. My knuckles blanched white around the crumpled sheet. Every citation was correct, every argument tight.
The rest of the week dragged like wet concrete. Every lecture, every glance across the room, felt charged. Vale never acknowledged what happened in his office. He marked papers, explained theory, dismissed class with the same clipped precision. But his eyes found mine more often now—lingering just
Elliot’s hands gripped my waist, pulling me down harder. Wet slaps echoed louder; sweat slicked our skin, making every thrust glide smoother, deeper. My cock slapped against my stomach with each bounce, pre-cum flinging in arcs. Pleasure built wild; I ground down messy, circling my hips to feel him
Damon’s voice rumbled against my ear. “Bedroom. Now.”Malik half-carried me through the connecting door. The bedroom was darker,black walls, king bed with black sheets, a single red bulb overhead. A padded bench waited at the foot of the bed; cuffs dangled from chains on the headboard. My stomach f







