Page 170 of The Man Upstairs

“It’s my birthday, Julian. Spoil me.”

“Not yet, it’s not. If you’re a good girl, you can get all the spoiling you want tomorrow.” I loved the sound of his voice, emanating pure lust. “Are you going to be a good girl for me, hmm?”

“Yes. I’m always a good girl. Always.”

I braced myself on my elbows, relaxing into the way he worked me. Three fingers turned to four, and he twisted them deep, making me cry out. He loosened me like a master, but my pussy still gripped his fingers like a vice, muscles ready to clamp around metal spines.

The whisk had become quite infamous online. Luckily, my friends and family avoided Julian’s novels. The covers were more than enough for them.

“I need to see inside your beautiful cunt,” he said. “All the way in. Spread and hungry.”

“Do it, then.” I looked at him with needy eyes. “Make me take it.”

His tongue was the perfect accomplice to the work of his hand. I was a squelching, bucking mess as he got me ready, lying flat against the kitchen island as he used me. He bit the insides of my thighs, sucking to leave his marks. I knew I’d be dirty for him under my birthday dress tomorrow, with his filthy words and his love bites all over my skin. Our secret, dirty sins.

“Fuck me…” I moaned. “Do it, Julian. Fuck me. Stretch me with that whisk like I’m a dirty little slut.”

“My pleasure.”

I knew it was bigger than the last one, but I had no idea just how cutting it would feel as he tried to work it inside me. I screwed my eyes shut tight, crying out as it strained, almost buckling under the pressure. Only I never would.

“Your cunt is so fucking pretty,” Julian said, and I knew he had his phone set to record, staring up at me with the camera aimed between my legs. “Here,” he said. “Hold it.”

I took hold of the phone, smiling with dirty joy as I held it in position to film my own pussy getting stretched. He had hundreds of videos, and thousands of words, all about me and what he’d done to me – and fantasies of what he wanted to do next. He was still offering me chapters every day.

I didn’t think I could take it when he gave the whisk a little twist until the wires were at their widest. The stretch was the biggest I’d ever felt, and I knew he’d be able to see right inside me.

“Just beautiful,” he said, staring at my stretched hole. “A gape of pink, with your lips spread wide. A wet tunnel spread open by a metal cage. Filthy, but divine.”

His words made me smile, despite the pain of the stretch.

“You know what to do,” he said, letting go of the whisk and taking the phone from me.

He aimed the camera up close and I took hold of the whisk, wincing at the stretch.

“Take it,” he said, “fuck yourself.”

I bit down and I took it. Nice and slow as I eased those wires into me, the look of pure pleasure on Julian’s face was all I needed.

I gasped as my pussy finally gave and the whisk sucked into me.

“Good girl,” he said. “Very good.”

“It feels good,” I told him before he asked, because I knew he would.

His smile was infectious. “Pain into pleasure?”

“Yes,” I said, “God yes,” and fucked myself some more, rocking against the pressure until Julian stilled my hand. He put the phone aside.

“If you’re this filthy at twenty-one, just imagine what you’re going to be like at thirty,” he said, then leant in and teased my clit with his tongue.

“I’ll be the filthiest girl in the world,” I told him, holding his head to my pussy. “You’d just better make sure you use me.”

I didn’t need to worry about that.

Julian fucked me with the new whisk, and probed my ass with the long, thin handle of the wooden spoon I’d been using for my cake mix, and fuck it, the sweet Victoria sponge really would be ours only.

Julian slopped cold cream all over my thighs and pussy, and ate me out as I squirmed and screamed, and I was lost to everything but the man who’d unleashed my soul and set me free.