Cult of Lust - The Series (Evil Needs Book 4) by Nadia Nightside

Author:Nadia Nightside
Language: eng
Format: azw3, epub
Publisher: Midnight Publishing
Published: 2022-06-29T04:00:00+00:00

Cult of Lust – Corrupted Therapist

Once again, she enveloped his cock with her eager pussy, sliding him up higher inside to feel the totality of his massive, turgid member filling her so completely. She was on top of him—on top of his throne, surrounded by other slaves who worshiped him just as she did. She afforded them casual sneers while he pounded her up and down his huge godhood—letting them know she knew how much better than them she was and how much she enjoyed it.

Master fucked her harder for her arrogance, and nothing and no one fucked her like her Master.

Maybe it was hard, for other women, to receive his huge cock. His size was enormous, after all. And not just the length, but the girth of it too. Thicker than a coke can and more than twice as long.

Somehow she had room for it. Everything had always come easily to her—so it was no surprise, really, that once her Master had found her that serving her as was her womanly duty came easy to her as well.

Sometimes, just moments before his huge manhood entered her, she had flashes of a previous life—one that didn’t worship Him, one that didn’t focus on her own self-absorption and vanity and arrogance, one that wasn’t constantly preening on her own beauty. She thought—oh my gosh, do I really want this?

And then he fucked her—and she forgot everything all over again.

* * * * *

“Oh my gosh, Margaret! Again?”

A few days earlier, Doctor Cynthia Archer stared, aghast, at her secretary’s face. Covered in make-up, the black eye was still noticeable. There was no hiding the swelling and certainly not the barely-healed split on her otherwise attractive lips.

“I know,” Margaret shook her head. “I know what you’re going to say.”

Cynthia had just arrived at work; she had a new client pay her to clear her whole schedule for the day. On the short bike ride to her office, she had reflected on how utterly strange that was. But this was far more important; her co-worker was in crisis and she had to help her.

“I don’t think you do,” said Cynthia. “This has to end. Today. Now. Listen—”

“No, really, please—”

“Here’s a key. Okay? This is to my home. You stay there until something comes together. All right? Don’t worry about food. Don’t worry about money. You have to sever. Now. Right now. There’s no excuses anymore.”

Margaret’s tale of woe had begun some months after entering employment for Cynthia. A complete ass of a boyfriend who liked to make his points with his fists. Margaret, a lifelong co-dependent, made endless excuses for him and Cynthia had tried remaining detached. But the last incident—before this one—had made detachment extraordinarily difficult.

To call it an “incident” at all was to downplay the severity; it was a series of threats and angry promises over several days of argument and cowering that escalated until he threatened Margaret’s life and livelihood; only calling the police and separating the two seemed to calm him down.

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