Lemma the Librarian: Op-arrrr-ant Conditioning, Part 5

By the time Milos returned, I was
writhing on the floor chanting “Obedience is pleasure” as quickly as
I could. I had no idea how long I’d been doing it; I really wasn’t thinking
anything by that point, just feeling. As soon as he came in, though, I stopped.
One last wave of obedience swept through me, and then I just lay there, feeling
exhausted and hollow.

“Arr, ye be doin’ well,
girlie,” Milos said. “Ye’ll be full trained ‘fore we be arrivin’ at
Qart Hadast. Ye’ll fetch me a fine price from some collect-arrr o’ exotic toys,
I be thinkin’. Tell me true, be ye a virgin?”

“No,” I said, obeying
without thinking, just wanting the pleasure back. Yessss…

A pity,” he said. “Yer price’d be far finer.
Still, at least it be meanin’ thar be no reason not to sample me wares.

I hesitated a moment, but I could
feel the beginnings of that damn headache coming back. And at least he was
hotter than most of the guys who’d gotten into my brain, and it was guaranteed
to feel good. And it wasn’t like I had a choice. I stripped slowly, to make the
feeling last longer. He seemed to enjoy that, and ordered me to take his
clothes off next.

I peeled them off, stroking smooth
skin and tight muscles–not as big as Iason’s, but definitely there and
definitely the right shape–as I revealed them, trying to make it as slow as
possible without him noticing I was stretching it out.

After taking off everythign else I
reached for the silver torc around his neck, but he caught my hand. “Not
that, luv. That stays on, ye savvy? Now lie back and spread yer legs.”

I scrambled back, riding the waves
of pleasure. Fuck, this is gonna be good… feels so good to obey… obedience
is pleasure.

Milos slid a finger into my wet
pussy and grinned. “Arr, a slut be fetchin’ near good a price as a virgin.
Get on yer hands and knees, slut!”

Slut!? The last person to say shit
like that got lit on fire!
But those
kinds of thoughts hurt, and rolling over onto my hands and knees felt amazing.

“Every time I be thrustin’ into
ye, ye be sayin’ that ye be a slut who be luvvin’ gettin’ fucked,” Milos
said, and then pushed his cock into me.

“Ohhh, I’m a slut who loves
getting fucked,” I moaned. Pleasure exploded in my head, flowed down my
body and into my pussy, where it met his thrust and exploded back out through
me. “Fuuuuuckkk… I’m a slut who loves getting fucked…” The second
time felt even better. As he settled into a rhythm and picked up speed, I
chanted faster and louder, pleasure mounting higher and higher. “I’m a
slut who loves getting fucked! I’m a slut who loves getting fucked!”

There was no cumming, no peak. Just
pleasure that built higher and higher, like an orgasm without end, his cock
sending it pulsing higher, a rolling burst of pleasure that swept up through my
body and out my mouth as yet another cry of “I’m a slut who loves getting
fucked!” My brain wasn’t even involved anymore, it was overloaded and
switched off–it was all just my body dancing to Milos’ puppet strings. 

Eventually he came, and I passed out
right there on the floor.

(To be continued…)

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