The Ascendancy Chronicles - The Beginning by J.M. Alt Page B

my cock
back in. Each time I throatfucked her, I did so for a bit longer
and pushed a bit deeper.
    Beth neither struggled or fought the
face-fucking. She’s quite good at sucking cock and face-fucking is
something she truly enjoys. So I fucked her pretty mouth, listening
to her struggle to breath, then suck in deep breaths when I pulled
out. Yet she never closed her mouth. In fact, she tried to open it
further against the restraint of the leather hood, tongue always in
place to provide a nice path for my cock to slide on as I pushed
into her tight throat once again.
    I continued to face-fuck her for several long
minutes before the pleasure and pressure of her tight throat
finally pushed me over the edge. Tensing and pushing, I began to
fast pump my cock, feeling my balls tense as they bounced off her
leather covered chin, her nose pushed against my belly.
    And I came, forcing globs of creamy jism down
her throat and into her belly. She started to struggle, fighting
against me for a breath as the hot cum slid down her throat. I
pulled out and she gasped, sucking in air. And just as quickly, she
closed her lips around my cock, sucking it back in and milking it
to drink the last drops of my cum.
    Finished with Beth – for now – I used long
strips of black duct tape to re-gag her, then tightened each strap
holding her body to the bed one notch tighter and turned out the
lights as I left her.
    Drew’s eyes were closed.
    Such a little bitch. I remembered the night
when it all started. The night that would change the three of us
forever.
     
    *****
     
    I came home after another fourteen-hour day
running my very successful consulting firm to find her SUV backed
into the drive. Drew stood in the hallway as I came in.
    Her voice was emotionless, "I'm leaving."
    I was shocked. "Why?"
    She looked at me. "What do you mean 'Why'?
Are you serious?” She looked at me incredulously. “You have given
me a good fuck in so long I can’t even remember what your cock
looks like. And the last few over the past couple months have been
nothing more than Wham-Bam, Thank you Ma'am." She shook her pretty
head. "I told you I need excitement. I want someone who can control
me. You know that. You used to do that. You used to be a man.
You've become...a wimp."
    I slapped her before I knew what I was doing.
Her head snapped to the side as I yelled, "You bitch," raising my
hand once more. "I work my ass off and all you can say when you
leave me is I'm a wimp? I oughta..."
    "You oughta what?" she countered as she felt
her cheek, a smile coming to her lips.
    I looked at her and dropped my hand.
    "That's right," she said, watching me lower
my hand as I fought for control. "We wouldn't want to get out of
control. But, then again, that's been your problem for a long
time." She brushed by me as she left. "If only you'd learned how to
control me. Too bad.”
    That was Friday night.
    I spent all day Saturday driving, pounding my
fist against the dash every time I heard those words.
    If only I had learned to control her?
    What did she want from me?
    I found myself that night in a sleazy little
bar on the scum-side of town, drowning the cunt’s words with beer
and shots of whiskey and wanting badly to beat the shit out of
something or someone.
    By midnight, as I stumbled out of the place,
I was drunk and still mad. I knew enough not to drive home, but I
didn’t have anywhere in particular to go. And I didn’t really give
a fuck. Walking for a while, I stopped to piss off the sidewalk,
right in front of a real dive.
    I didn't care. Let someone say something.
    I turned and looked at the place as I pissed.
It was one of those adult bookstores – the kind with the windows
blacked out.
    You know the kind of place I’m talking
about.
    I stared at the door for a moment, then went
inside, pushing my way through some guy coming out. The place was
bigger than I thought and well lit. Perverts stood looking at
magazines, blowup dolls and rubber cocks, or wandering