Insatiable: Porn — a Love Story Read Online Free PDF Page B

first and start low.” The rod was about five inches long, and thin, like a barbecue skewer. Although, can you really consider anything thin when it’s going into your dick hole? “Here, put it in.”
    I did as he said.
    As soon as I put the tip in, his hole just sucked in three quarters of the rod. I couldn’t believe how easily it went in. (Later, I would learn this isn’t always the case. Urethras are like assholes. The more times it’s been penetrated, the less time it takes to open up.)
    Clint was already in ecstasy.
    I slid the metal in and out without turning the electricity on to see what his reaction would be. He smiled. His face looked like how I feel when a dick penetrates me.
    Steadily as I could, I turned the dial on, and slowly nudged it to the right. The electricity started buzzing right away. It got louder and louder with every millimeter I turned. Curious, I put my hand around his cock and felt the electricity in my fingers, through my hand, and up my wrist. It didn’t hurt. Unlike the sharp sensation I expected it to be, it felt dull, like my hand had fallen asleep. Of course, I wasn’t holding the metal directly. I had a penis buffering the static.
    The device turned me on a little bit. It scared me, but it would be a lie to say I wasn’t getting wet. Feeling the excitement, yet aware that I was electrocuting a man, I kept my hand on his dick and stayed nervous, still as a statue. Clint was twitching, but not in an overboard kind of way. I turned the dial again to the right.
    He started yelling. “Fuck! FUCKKK!!” I was just about to rush to switch the machine off when he told me to go higher.
    I held my breath and turned the dial again.
    He kept yelling.
    I couldn’t breathe, or take my eyes off his face, which was morphing into something like Edvard Munch’s most famous painting.
    As subtly as I could, I grinded my pussy into the medical bed we were sitting on. I hoped Clint didn’t notice.
    Probably because I was holding my breath, I started to feel a little dizzy. As I tried to focus on my breath and calm myself down, Clint pulled the rod out himself, squeezed my hand over his cock, and jerked it till cum came pouring out on both of our hands.
    I don’t know how I left that room, but the next thing I remember is rubbing my pussy in the bathroom. I used the hand with Clint’s cum on it.
    It was the only time I touched a penis at the dungeon, and I felt dirty and disgusting. I saw something I was appalled by, yet somehow it was completely fascinating. I made myself climax as quietly as I could.
    I turned on the sink and watched the cum on my hand turn into rubber when it hit the water. Something about cum, once it’s cooled off, is just nauseating. Like my orange juice, it was something I only enjoyed freshly squeezed.
    I flushed the toilet so no one would suspect anything. Clint was our “gross manager,” and I didn’t want him to think he turned me on.
    He was hardcore like that .
    At twenty years old, I was the youngest one at the dungeon, but not by much. No one was over thirty. The head bitch in charge was Mistress Rox. She had been there for eight years, and was known in the city as one of the meanest, baddest, yet most sensual masters. I’ve seen her shit on a guy. Like, right on his face. There’s no way he didn’t get pinkeye from that. You can’t erase things like that from your memory, no matter how much you want to. It’s like herpes in your brain. It’s forever.
    Rox is tall, even before she puts on her six-inch heeled boots every night. She had long black hair paired with a cold Eastern Europe–esque face, and when she was sober, she could dominate like no one I had ever seen. The creativity, commands, and insults that would come out of this woman’s mouth were unfathomable to my comparatively amateur mind. Throughout the last year I had seen her relapse into her heroin addiction multiple times, and there was always a big drama to get clean again. There were nights