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홈 / Romance / Sinful Nights: A Filthy Collection of Erotic Stories / Painted With His Cúm Part 3

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Painted With His Cúm Part 3

작가: SwaanBlack
last update 최신 업데이트: 2025-11-05 17:39:54

The third night, the gallery looked different and even smelled different. The usual sterile scent of polish and cold air was replaced by something sharper, more organic. The tang of turpentine and the nutty smell of linseed oil hung in the air, a primal promise of creation and mess. In the very center of the vast, white room, where the cold marble floor had been, there now sat a massive, wooden frame. Stretched taut within it was an eight-foot-by-eight-foot square of pristine, white canvas. It was an altar. And Anna was the sacrifice.

Adrian stood beside it, a faint, almost imperceptible smile playing on his lips. He was dressed in a simple black turtleneck and dark trousers, looking more like an artist than a CEO. "Tonight, we create," he announced, his voice filled with a new, vibrant energy. "Your body will be the brush. Your pleasure will be the paint. We are going to make a masterpiece, Anna. A real, filthy masterpiece."

Anna's heart hammered against her ribs, a frantic, excited
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    The pharmacy was a brightly-lit. The air smelled disinfectant and floral air freshener. Dr. Alistair’s crisp, clinical handwriting was a confession, a detailed list of her own perversion for any bored pharmacist to read.‘Rx: One tablet, to be taken orally at 8 PM. Muscle relaxant. For severe, systemic hypersensitivity.’The pharmacist was a cheerful woman with too much makeup and a name tag that read ‘Brenda.’ “My, my, you must have it bad,” she chirped, tapping prescription into her computer. “This is some strong stuff. Dr. Alistair doesn’t mess around. What’s it for, if you don’t mind my asking?”Lily’s face was a burning mask of shame. “Nerve… damage,” she managed to stammer, her voice a thin, reedy thing.“Oh, that’s terrible!” Brenda clucked sympathetically, her fingers flying across the keyboard. “Well, this should help take the edge off. Just be careful. It can make you a bit… loopy. And don’t operate any heavy machinery.”The irony was a physical blow. If only she knew what k

  • Sinful Nights: A Filthy Collection of Erotic Stories   Diagnosed for Fúcking Part 3

    The sound of his belt was a sound that sealed her fate. Lily knelt on the cold, hard floor, a wreck of trembling limbs and a mind that was a blank, white canvas of shock and shame. His words, *“Let’s begin,”* echoed in her head, a dark, hypnotic command. He dropped his trousers and his boxers, and his cock, thick and heavy, sprang free. It was angry, a dark, flushed weapon pointing directly at her, a single bead of glistening moisture at its tip.“You made a mess, Ms. Reed,” he said, his voice a low, dangerous growl. He gestured to the examination table, where the evidence of her last, shattering orgasm was still a slick, shiny mess on the pristine white paper. “A dirty, filthy mess. You will clean it. With your tongue.”A fresh wave of humiliation, so hot and sharp it was almost painful, washed over her. This was a thousand times worse than the exam. This was degradation. This was being treated like an animal. And a dark, twisted part of her, a part she was terrified to acknowledge,

  • Sinful Nights: A Filthy Collection of Erotic Stories   Diagnosed for Fúcking Part 2

    The next two days were a special kind of hell. A self-inflicted torture chamber of her own making. Lily’s small apartment felt like a prison, her bed a rack where she was stretched and teased. His words were a brand seared into her mind: “You will not come.” It was a command that had rewired her entire nervous system, turning her own body into a traitor.Every night, she would lie in the darkness, her skin humming with a low, desperate ache. She would try to read, try to watch television, anything to distract herself from the traitorous hum between her legs. But it was always there. A dull, persistent throb that demanded attention.On the first night, she broke. Her hand, a traitor of its own, slid down her sweat-slicked stomach and under the waistband of her pajamas. Her fingers found her wet, swollen cunt, and she had to bite her lip to stifle a gasp. She was so sensitive. The lightest brush of her fingertips against her clit was like an electric shock. She circled the hard, aching

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    The rest of the day was a waking nightmare. Anjali moved through the grand haveli like a ghost, her body a traitor, humming with the memory of Vikram’s touch. Every step sent a jolt of sensation through her. The rough fabric of her petticoat felt like sandpaper against her tender, spanked ass. The silk of her saree brushing against her swollen, sensitive breasts was a constant, arousing torment.She bathed, the cool water a shock against her heated skin. She saw the faint red marks on her hips where his fingers had dug into her flesh, the dark shadow of a bruise on her neck. She looked at herself in the mirror, at the woman with the wide, innocent eyes and the body of a well-used whore. A hot, sickening mix of shame and excitement churned in her belly.Dinner was a special kind of hell. The long, polished dining table was filled with the Shekhawat family. Her husband, Rajiv, sat beside her, oblivious, telling a boring story about a new car he wanted to buy. She smiled and nodded, her m

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