Slave Wife Read Online Free PDF Page B

urine and hers. The thought of his egalitarianism evinced a malevolent smile. Her spinal column flexed and the gently defined shoulder muscles swelled but she didn’t resist.
    Almost as an afterthought he’d turned her and brutally rammed his cock down her long throat, forcing her head closer to the yellow toilet water. He never allowed her to gag. She just had to take it. If she didn’t – he smiled at the memory of her one restrained convulsion last night – with one hand he gripped the shining dark hair hard enough to rip out and viciously slapped her face with the other before he continued. He didn’t worry about bruises. She was expert with makeup.
    Really her narrow taut body was exceptional, even down to the breasts – he visualized the pendant forms compressed against the bowl’s edge – full and perfectly shaped without artificial augmentation. Once, when she was younger, she’d been a rare prize. Then he’d ached to penetrate those exquisitely tight, baby-pink orifices, to touch the milk-white flesh. Now, though, he used her only for release. His real pleasure came from her degradation. As his cock slid between her small round buttocks, upward toward that elegant narrow spine, he’d pushed her under, watched her immaculately groomed head submerge. Mercilessly, without thought to speed or force, he penetrated her. Her anus gripped his cock but the rest remained still. For awhile. He watched as her air gave out and her body contorted under the strain.
    His cock hardened. This was his real joy. He didn’t need to hold her under. He’d bought her body and soul. She’d remain till her lungs began to fill with urine, till he allowed her to rise. Only once had she emerged prematurely. He’d done nothing more than disinterestedly remind her of what she had to lose. His lips curled at the memory. One day he might test whether she’d die for him. His skin quivered with disgust. How he wanted to damage her, to destroy the filth! He imagined his long cock actually penetrating her back along her spinal column, violating flesh and bone. His hand moved unthinkingly over his hard shaft.
    The whore! His sensual lips dropped downward into a frown. She was nothing more than a whore, though granted an exceedingly high priced one. What he needed was pure beauty and innocence.
    His mind went to Karen’s perfect face and he shook his head. Such splendid potential even amidst that mulish farm stock! He smiled again. No matter. He’d break down the coarseness and replace it with the sublime delicacy he’d seen the first night at the Christmas party. Her genes were no match for his determination … and resources. His thoughts returned to the pages before him, eliminating Karen from his consciousness as thoroughly and casually as an errant lint particle.
    It was really an ideal scenario. Mentally, he ticked off the pluses:   Closely held by the company’s founder and a few key employees. An engineering and IT brain trust hand-picked from Rensselaer Polytechnic Institute, perhaps the top engineering school in the US , by the founder, himself an alumnus. Robotics technologies, both brick and mortar utilitarian and far beyond the cutting edge. And last but certainly not least, snuggled quietly and accessibly on the Mississippi River just south of their largest client – at least prior to the U.S. Government – the beautiful and venerable red brick Anheuser-Busch brewery, which provided a continual stream of stable, cash-producing mechanization contracts.
    Michael couldn’t restrain his outpouring of joy at the inventory. His attention returned to Doud, the 67 year old founder. Without doubt an intriguing old coot. Though Michael had no substantiating evidence, his instincts, which he never doubted, told him he’d find Doud a remarkably kindred spirit on closer examination. Michael saw Doud’s acute pale eyes twinkling at him. Doud had given every indication he agreed. That’s why he’d sold his cherished spawn to