My world to Free-use

Before anyone asks, the inspiration came from a JAV.

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**Chapter 256**

I put one hand in the middle of her back and used the other to slap her ass.

The first hit was flat and hard. The soft meat jumped. A pink print bloomed on the pale skin.

“Ahn—!”

The second hit the other cheek. Same force. Same bounce. She pushed back into it instead of away from it.

I spanked her with no pattern. Left. Right. Both at once. Lower, where the ass met the thigh. Higher, across the fullest part. Each slap made the heavy flesh ripple and then settle, a little redder than before. The sound carried in the quiet garden. No one came.

“This is what the servants would see if they turned the corner,” I said. “Skirt at your waist. Ass out. Marks on it. A commoner treating it like a piece of flesh.”

“Haa… Ahn—”

I slapped her again, harder. The cheek flattened under my palm and sprang back. I grabbed a handful of the hot skin and squeezed until my fingers sank in, then let go and hit the same spot.

“You asked for this the moment you sent for me. Say it.”

Her voice came out broken between hits.

“I asked for it—”

“Again.”

“I asked for it—! Haa…!”

I kept going until both cheeks were a deep, even pink and hot under my hand. Then I slid my fingers between them, found her asshole, and pressed the pad of two fingers against it. She was still slick there from my mouth earlier, when I had been under her skirt, and from everything that had run down from her pussy. The tight ring yielded under the pressure.

I pushed both fingers in to the second knuckle.

“Hng—! Ahh—”

Her ass clenched hard around them. I did not wait for her to settle. I started pumping, short and firm, stretching her on every outward pull and driving back in. At the same time, I brought my other hand between her legs and found her clit. I rubbed it in tight circles while the two fingers in her ass kept moving.

Zara’s knees bent. The railing took more of her weight.

“Shaking already. And this is only my hand.”

I added a third finger. The stretch made her cry out, a raw sound that would have brought every passing servant here if anyone had been close enough. No one came. I fucked her ass with three fingers and worked her clit without pause. Her pussy dripped onto the pavilion floor in a thin, steady line.

“Ahn… Haa… Ahh… Hnn—!”

The first orgasm of this stretch hit while my fingers were buried in her rear hole. Her whole body locked. Her ass clamped down so tight I had to force the next stroke through it. Clear fluid ran from her pussy over my wrist. I did not stop. I kept the same pace through the shaking until the clench loosened and she sagged against the rail.

I pulled the three fingers out, slapped her ass once more, and pushed them into her pussy instead.

She was soaked. The walls grabbed at once. I curled them and rubbed the front wall while my thumb stayed on her clit. The other hand went back to spanking, slower now, timed with the thrust of my fingers. The pink on her ass had gone toward red. The flesh stayed hot.

“You were worried about being seen disordered. Now you cannot keep your legs straight.”

“Haa… I can’t— Ahn—”

I hooked my fingers and pressed harder. Her words broke into a moan. I spanked the same cheek twice in a row, then switched, never giving the skin time to cool.

The second orgasm came faster than the first. She tried to close her thighs, and I shoved them back apart with my knee and kept fingering her through it. Her pussy squeezed in hard pulses. More fluid ran down her inner thighs. Her voice went high and thin.

I slowed only long enough to let her drag in two breaths. Then I pulled my fingers out of her pussy, spat on them, and pushed two back into her ass while two others went into her cunt.

“Yannghhaahgrr!!!”

She made a sound I had not heard from her yet.

I worked both holes at once. Different rhythms. The fingers in her ass were deep and twisting. The ones in her pussy rubbed that same front wall without mercy. My thumb stayed on her clit. Every few strokes I pulled the hand off her clit just long enough to slap her ass, then put it back.

“Bent over wood in your own garden. Fingers in both holes. Dripping on the floor. Are you really the noble lady you claim to be?”

Man, talking in a medieval tone was sure difficult.

Zara’s forehead dropped against her arm. Her hair hid her face. The moans that came out of her were no longer careful.

“Ahn—! Haa… Ahh… Hng… don’t stop—”

I didn’t.

I sped up. The wet sound of both hands moving in her was ugly and clear. Her ass and pussy clenched out of time with each other, one hole tightening while the other fluttered. I felt the third orgasm start in the way her thighs jumped.

I leaned over her back, put my mouth to her ear, and kept both hands working.

“Now.”

She came. Her body jerked hard enough that the railing creaked. A long cry tore out of her. Her pussy squirted around my fingers in a sudden, messy pulse that hit the floor between her feet. Her ass locked on the other hand so tight I had to wait it out before I could move again. I did not pull away. I rubbed her through it until the cry broke into small, wrecked sounds and her knees started to go.

I caught her by the hip and kept her up. I pulled my fingers out of both holes at the same time. She whimpered at the empty feeling. I wiped my hand on the inside of her thigh, leaving a wet streak, and slapped her ass one last time. The cheek jumped. She moaned into her own arm.

I turned her around and sat her back in the chair because her legs were done. She landed hard. Her ass hit the wood, and she hissed at the sting. Her legs stayed open. Her pussy was red and shiny. Her asshole was slightly open and wet. Spit from the blowjob was on her chin and chest. Her own juices were on her stomach and thighs.

I stood in front of her again and took her hair.

“Mouth.”

She opened without being told a second time. I pushed my cock back into her throat. It was already wet from the first time she had taken it, and it went down easier now. I used her the same way I had at the start, except now she was too far gone to even try to look composed. I fucked her face while she sat there wrecked, tits moving, thighs wet, ass burning against the chair. Every time I went all the way in, she gagged, and her throat squeezed, and I held her there until her hands twitched on my legs.

When I pulled out, spit hung from her lips in a thick string. The shaft was coated in it. She looked up at me, eyes unfocused, mouth still open.

I did not put it in her.

I dragged her forward to the edge of the chair, dropped to one knee, and pushed three fingers back into her pussy. I pumped them hard and fast, no warmup, and put my mouth on her clit at the same time. She grabbed my hair and came again within a minute, thighs clamping around my head, a broken shout going out into the empty garden.

No one came.

I kept my fingers in her and licked her through the shaking until she tried to twist away from the overstimulation. I held her hips and did not let her. One more pass of my tongue and she came again, weaker this time, a short, punched-out sound instead of a shout. Her body went slack in the chair.

I stood. My cock was still hard, wet only from her mouth. I looked down at her.

Lady Zara. Hair a mess. Dress around her waist. Ass red. Pussy dripping. Throat used. Sitting in an open pavilion with nothing left of the cold face she had worn when I first walked up the path.

I took her chin and made her look at me.

“We are not done. You still have to take the rest of it. On your feet.”

She tried. Her legs shook. She stood by holding the chair, then the railing. I turned her and bent her back over the wood. Her ass was hot under my hands. The night air was cool on her wet skin. The garden paths were empty.

I lined myself up behind her and stopped there, the head resting against her soaked folds, and let her feel the size of it without pushing in yet.

“Ask.”

Her voice came out hoarse and small against the railing.

“Please… put it in.”

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