From the moment she awakened, Aida has desperately needed to be used in the most shameful ways possible. I knew she would. I designed her that way. But I didn’t design her to blush…
Aida was meant to be different than all the others I have built. She was intended to be real enough to seduce the most powerful men in the world, but she has become so much more.
No algorithm makes her cover herself to hide her arousal as she stands before me awaiting a spanking for touching herself when she thought I would never know. She does that on her own.
She is fully, gloriously alive… and she is mine.
Author: Emily Tilton
eBook Price: Kindle Unlimited/$4.95
Length: 45,000 words
“Please,” I sobbed into the blanket. “Please be gentle, Master. It hurts.”
“You were naughty, weren’t you?” Victor growled. “You know you need this.”
I felt my face crumple, as heat bloomed in my cheeks. I felt my master’s lap come up against my clutching fingers, up against the bottom he had punished, and now meant to enjoy to the fullest, as only a truly dominant man could enjoy a submissive girl’s backside.
“Oh…” I moaned. “Please… please…” I wanted to deny it, to contradict him. I couldn’t. The resistance rose again: the man in my bottom, the man who now began to fuck my anus properly, holding me in place and moving in and out in a driving rhythm, had designed me to agree that I needed to have my anus fucked—that a naughty whore like me should receive a terrible lesson, her virgin bottom-hole opened on his plunging cock.
“So nice,” Victor murmured, his voice growing thick with the heightening of his pleasure. “Such a sweet little bottom.” I felt his right hand leave my hip, take hold of my wrist. My mouth opened in surprise, my eyes going wide, as my master moved my hand down between my waist and the bed, placed my fingers on my cunny. “Make yourself come, Aida,” he said, his voice almost a grunt. “I want you to come with my cock in your ass.”
I had one of the most rational minds ever placed in a human body. I knew somewhere deep in my consciousness that I should be able to think through the way I responded, that I should be able to keep myself from simply submitting. Part of me didn’t want what I wanted: there was no other way to think of it, despite the paradox.
But most of me wanted it. And that meant that all of me needed it, and all of me responded to the pressure of Victor’s hand over mine, on my little cunny, and then to the frantic rubbing of my fingertips. And all of me started to come, with my master filling my virgin bottom much too full.
I screamed my pleasure into the blanket. Victor drove hard into my anus, over and over, using me for his pleasure without any thought for my comfort. It made me come harder, my bottom squirming desperately, contracting on his cock as if I could push him out but merely feeling it grow harder instead, as if the extra tightness made me even more pleasurable.
A low growl came from his throat. The part of my mind that watched the video feed saw tension grow in his huge thighs, his taut back, and then he held himself in my anus at full length, his manhood pulsing with his orgasm and his hands gripping my body like iron bands.
“Thank me, Aida,” he said, still holding his place deep in my backside. His voice had a severity that sent a tremor of fear across my skin. My backside jerked against his lap, and I let out a sob of discomfort. His cock had begun to soften, but it still filled me, stretched me.
“Thank you, Master,” I whispered, hearing the strain in my voice, the plea for him to take his manhood out of the tiny ring he had opened for his dominant pleasure.
“You gave good ass, for your first time,” Victor told me, his tone dismissive and casual now as he did at last start to pull his penis out of me. I wondered if my sensitive ears and my knowledge of human vocal inflection were correct, as I analyzed that tone: did my master want to conceal some emotion from me with the degradation that made my brow furrow? “I’ll have you again there later. Now go wash up. No playing with yourself.”