EXTRACT FOR
The Submission Of The Serving Girl: Victorian BDSM Erotica
(Anna Austin)

His Lordship pulled his fingers free from my body and just for a moment, I mourned their loss, still quivering from release; no time to enjoy it though, not with both hands pulling my arse cheeks wider apart, and not with the fat cock head pressing to my little hole.  I'd had that beast in my mouth, and there was no way on God's green Earth it was going to fit inside an opening barely big enough for a finger or two.  



I was to be proved wrong, not easily, but it wouldn't take long for me to realise that with grim determination and enough lubrication, it was indeed possible. A few short, slow thrusts and the bulbous tip of his prick was in, popping past the first ring of muscle. 



"Tight, so good, and all mine." Rothewell's possessive tone had become laced with raw desire and need.



I cried bitterly, tears running freely, joined the ranks of a thousand others fallen already. It burned, God, it burned, overriding the pain he'd caused earlier with his leather strap. His engorged member worked into me a fraction of an inch at a time, back a little, forward a little, eased by his ministrations and the lubricant until my body stretched to accommodate him.