Dirty Forbidden Confessions のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 101 - チャプター 110

Dr. Reid unties my hands and pulls me off the desk."On your knees." His voice is calm but brooks no argument. "In the center of the room. Now."My legs are shaking so badly I nearly fall, but I manage to sink to my knees on the hard floor. The three of them form a semicircle around me, all of them undressing now, revealing bodies that are surprisingly fit for academics. Dr. Grant is lean and toned, Dr. Reid has the build of someone who runs marathons, and Dr. Callahan is massive, broad-shouldered, intimidating."Hands behind your back." Dr. Callahan uses the necktie to bind my wrists again, tighter this time. "Keep them there."I'm kneeling naked in the middle of Dr. Grant's office, hands bound behind me, three hard cocks at eye level. The position makes me feel small, vulnerable, completely at their mercy. I love it."Look at her." Dr. Reid crouches down to study my face. "Pupils dilated. Breathing elevated. She's in subspace already. Fascinating response to restraint and submission

I've wanted a spot on the varsity swim team since freshman year. Three years of showing up to open practices and tryouts, taking any chance I could find to prove myself. Three years of Coach Voss looking right through me like I don't exist.Until tonight.The pool is empty now and the other girls went home hours ago. I stayed late to work on my butterfly stroke, pushing myself through lap after lap until my arms burned and my lungs screamed. When I finally pulled myself out of the water, gasping for breath on the pool deck, she was standing at the edge. Watching me.Coach Diana Voss. Thirty-four years old, former Olympic alternate, and hands down the most intimidating woman I've ever met. She's tall and lean with shoulders built from decades in the water, dark hair always pulled back tight. She runs this program like a military operation and every girl on the team both fears and worships her. I'm no different."You're still here." Her voice carries across the natatorium."Yes, Coach."

She fucks me against the lockers like she's training me for competition. Hard strokes that hit places I've never been touched before. My back slams against the metal each time she drives into me and I know I'll have bruises tomorrow but I want them. I want proof that this actually happened."Talk to me." She's watching my face, drinking in every expression. "Tell me how it feels.""So good." I'm crying out as she pounds into me, unable to hold back. "You feel so good inside me, Coach. I can feel you everywhere.""You've wanted this for a long time." She kisses my neck, biting down just hard enough to make me yelp. "Haven't you?""Since freshman year." The confession spills out between moans. "I've wanted you since the first day I saw you. I used to touch myself in the shower after practice, imagining exactly this.""Fuck." She groans against my throat. "That's so hot. Tell me more. Tell me what you imagined.""I imagined you fucking me in your office." My voice is wrecked, barely reco

I stare at him, still trying to catch my breath. "What?""You heard me." He jerks his chin toward the forest. "Run. I'm giving you another head start.""But you already caught me.""And I'll catch you again." He checks his watch. "Three minutes this time. Better move."My legs are shaking, my pussy is still throbbing from what he just did to me, and there's cum dripping down my thighs. Running is the last thing my body wants to do.But the look in his eyes makes me move anyway.I take off deeper into the forest, slower this time, my muscles already tired from the first chase. The cool air feels good against my flushed skin, and I realize halfway through my head start that I'm smiling. This is exactly what I wanted. The thrill, the fear, the knowledge that no matter how fast I run, he's going to catch me and use me again.Three minutes feels shorter than five. I barely make it behind a fallen log before I hear him coming, his footsteps measured and unhurried. He's not rushing. He knows

They told me I'd be worshipped. I thought it was ceremonial nonsense, the kind of flowery language old traditions use to dress up an arranged marriage. But then I walked into the throne room and saw all seven of them waiting for me, and I realized they meant it literally.Seven kings. Seven territories united under one banner. And me, the chosen vessel, the woman they selected from thousands of candidates to bind them together. The ritual requires that each king prove his devotion before the alliance can be sealed.By making me come.Nervousness would make sense right now. Any sane woman would be intimidated by the power in this room, the way their eyes track my every movement as I walk toward the raised platform in the center. But I feel something else entirely. Anticipation. Hunger.The eldest steps forward first. Caspian, King of the Northern Reach. He's tall with silver threading through his dark hair and eyes the color of a winter storm. When he speaks, his voice carries the auth