My Taboo Harem!

Chapter 432: Phei’s First (r-18)

Phei let the massive black dildo hover one final, torturous second longer—its blunt, flared head kissing the air just above Amber’s fluttering virgin entrance—then set it aside with deliberate slowness.

His heart hammered so violently he thought it might crack his ribs.

He had dreamed this moment in fragments—never whole, never real—until now.

The realization hit harder than any thrust ever could: he was the first man to make the Castellano Princess beg.

And gods, the sight of her—bound, gagged, blindfolded, ass presented like an offering—made something possessive roar awake inside his chest.

The wet thunk against the glass made her gagged whimper spike into a muffled, desperate “Mmmph—nngh—!”

Her hips shot upward again, ass cheeks rippling and clapping softly as she chased the phantom stretch, slick jetting in a short, messy arc that splattered her own trembling thighs and dripped back down her crack in thick, glossy strands.

He reached for the red leather paddle next—wide, flat, stitched edges, the handle wrapped in matching crimson. He dragged the cool leather slowly across her swollen mound, letting the flat surface kiss her puffy outer lips, then slide down to press lightly against her clit hood.

Amber’s whole body seized—back arching so hard her bound wrists rattled the chains, tits heaving upward, nipples scraping air in stiff, aching points.

“Hnnnngh—!” The gagged cry bubbled through drool that ran in shiny rivers over her chin and pooled between her bouncing breasts.

He had never struck anyone like this before. Never held this much control.

The first crack of leather on her mound sent a jolt straight to his cock—harder than he thought possible.

Her body answered him instantly, violently, like she had waited eons for exactly this pain-pleasure from exactly these hands.

The power of it stole his breath.

He gave her one firm, stinging smack—crack—right across her pussy mound.

The impact made her clit throb visibly, swelling fatter, redder. Her pussy clenched hard enough to force a thick rope of slick to squirt straight out, splashing the paddle and dripping down her perineum to coat her winking asshole completely.

Her ass cheeks jiggled from the force, rippling outward, the soaked white satin bow at her lower back sticking to her skin like a filthy flag of surrender.

“Look how your greedy virgin cunt

begs for it,” he rasped, voice low and possessive. “Dripping like a broken faucet just from a little slap. You’re going to earn every inch, slut.”

He barely recognized his own voice—rougher, darker, threaded with something reverent.

He alternated now—slow drags of the paddle along her inner thighs, teasing circles around her clit without touching, then sharp, controlled crack-crack-crack strikes across her mound and the tops of her thighs.

Each one pulled a louder, wetter reaction: muffled wails turning into continuous, drooling “Mmmph—mmph—fuuuck—!”

Her hips bucked wildly after every hit, ass lifting clean off the table, cheeks spreading wide so the camera caught the obscene close-up of her virgin hole fluttering open, inner walls rippling desperately, clit jumping like it had its own heartbeat.

Slick poured in steady, glossy rivulets—coating her pussy lips, dripping over her asshole, pooling beneath her jiggling ass in a spreading, reflective puddle that mirrored the red record light.

Phei set the paddle down and picked up the red silk ropes next—soft, thick coils that gleamed under the lights.

He looped them around her thighs just above the cuffs, tying her legs even wider, forcing her knees to bend slightly so her hips tilted upward in perfect presentation. The ropes bit just enough to leave faint red lines on her pale skin; the added restraint made her tremble harder.

“Nnnngh—too much—please—!” Drool bubbled faster from the ball gag, running in thick strands down her throat, over her tits, making her nipples glisten.

His fingers shook—just once—as he pulled the silk taut. Not from nerves.

From the sheer weight of what he was doing: opening her wider, presenting her deeper, claiming every inch of exposure for himself and the lens.

This was real.

And she was breaking so beautifully for him.

He stirred himself and dragged one end of the rope across her mound—slow, teasing friction against her swollen clit—then pulled it taut so the silk pressed into her puffy lips like a makeshift thong, parting them slightly and exposing the pink inner folds even more for the lens.

Amber’s reaction was immediate: hips rolling in tiny, frantic circles, ass cheeks bouncing and rippling as she tried to grind against the rope. A fresh squirt pulsed out—hot, messy—splashing the silk and dripping down her crack to coat her asshole in yet another shiny layer.

“That’s it,” he growled, tugging the rope lightly so it scraped her clit hood. “Show the camera how a degraded little maid whore humps silk when she’s too desperate for cock.”

Her muffled cries turned continuous—”Mmmph—mmph—yes—yes—!”—body spasming, thighs quaking, ass jiggling nonstop.

Every denied grind made her louder, wetter; slick strings stretched from her hole to the rope, snapping wetly with each roll of her hips.

Finally—after minutes of this slow, cruel buildup—he reached for the largest toy again: the jet-black dildo. He pressed the blunt head to her pussy entrance this time—not pushing in, just resting it there, letting her feel the impossible stretch it promised.

The flared crown kissed her puffy lips, parting them slightly, heat blooming against her untouched hole.

This was the moment his dreams had circled but never landed on. The moment before ruin. His cock throbbed painfully in his pants, leaking, jealous—but he would be the one to truly take her.

This toy was only to tease her lips, make her gape and squirt and beg until she was primed for his real cock to claim every untouched inch.

It would be me to fuck her… never the toys!

Amber’s body went rigid. “Haaaaah—!”

The gagged scream punched through the ball as her hips slammed upward, trying to take it, ass cheeks spreading wide.

He held it steady—letting her grind, letting her puffy outer lips stretch thin and red around just the very flared tip—then pulled back the exact fraction she chased.

Denial after denial.

Her pussy fluttered wildly against the head, clit throbbing so hard it looked painful. Slick gushed in thick, continuous streams—coating the dildo’s crown, dripping down her crack, pooling around her winking asshole.

He did it five more times: press the flared head in just enough to force her outer lips to stretch thin and red around the widest part, making her feel the obscene burn of partial entry—then yank it free with a wet pop.

Each withdrawal left her virgin entrance gaping open for a heartbeat—pink inner lips exposed and quivering—before clenching shut again, only to be forced apart once more.

Her ass bounced harder with every denied stretch, cheeks jiggling, thighs spasming, tits heaving with every ragged, drooling breath.

Fresh squirts jetted out around the head every time he teased the flare inside, soaking his fingers, splashing the glass, dripping in glossy rivulets down her crack to coat her asshole completely.

“Beg for it properly,” he commanded, voice rough with filthy praise. “Even gagged. Show me—and the camera—how badly my little virgin maid needs to be ruined.”

He had never heard anything more perfect than her gagged, broken pleading. It sank into his bones.

This was what power over someone’s kinks tasted like.

Amber’s head thrashed, drool flying. Her muffled wails turned into rhythmic, pleading “Mmmph—mmph—ruin—me—!”—hips lifting, ass shaking, pussy weeping openly.

The red light caught every obscene detail: swollen lips stretched paper-thin and flushed red around the retreating flare, slick strings bridging the gap between her gaping hole and the glossy black head, asshole coated and fluttering, ass cheeks rippling with every desperate, denied chase.

Phei finally notched the flared crown at her entrance again.

This time he didn’t pull away completely.

He pushed.

Slow.

Just the head—and the first thick inch behind it.

The blunt flare parted her puffy pink lips, stretching them thin and angry-red around its impossible girth.

Her virgin entrance clung desperately to the invading silicone, outer lips dragged taut, forming a glossy, stretched ring that quivered with the strain.

A wet, audible schlick sounded as the head popped past her entrance, forcing her lips to cling and flutter around the shallow intrusion.

Slick immediately welled up and frothed in a creamy collar right at the stretch point.

Fuck.The heat hugging just the tip. The way her pussy lips grips and trembles right in my sight.

His cock throbbed harder in his pants, leaking precum at the sight—he was shaking now, not from fear, but from the overwhelming truth: he was opening her.

Preparing her.

And soon it would be his real cock stretching this same greedy virgin hole to its limit.

Amber screamed through the gag—“MMMMMPH—!”—back bowing off the table, tits bouncing wildly, thighs quaking so hard the chains rattled.

Her ass cheeks rippled and jiggled violently, the white satin bow soaked dark and sticking to her skin.

He held her there—only the head and first inch buried—letting her feel the obscene stretch, the burn, the promise—then pulled back slowly.

The flared crown dragged her clinging outer lips outward in a glossy, creamy ring, leaving her pussy gaping open for a long heartbeat—pink inner folds exposed and fluttering helplessly—before he pressed forward again, popping the head back in with another wet schlick, forcing her lips to stretch and cling anew.

Every shallow thrust was deliberate. Torturous. Relentless.

The camera caught it all: the way her virgin cunt stretched paper-thin and red around just the flared head and first inch, lips dragging and clinging greedily, cream frothing in thick rings right at the entrance with each slow pop-in/pop-out.

Slick jetted out in messy arcs around the shallow intrusion every time he teased deeper by a fraction, soaking his hand, dripping down her crack to coat her asshole completely.

Her ass bounced with every controlled nudge—cheeks rippling, jiggling, clapping softly against the glass.

“Mmmph—deeper—ruin—me—!” she begged through the gag, drool bubbling, tears streaming under the blindfold.

He didn’t go deeper than the crown’s inch. Never.

It was one thing to play with her pussy with the toy, it was another to let it go in her! She was for his cock to stretch.

Phei growled low, possessive. “Good girl. Look how your greedy little lips stretch and beg just for the tip. You’re going to gape so beautifully when it’s my cock finally claiming you.”

He kept the shallow rhythm—slow pops of the head in and out, each one forcing her outer lips to stretch thin and red, cling desperately, then gape when he withdrew.

Fluids everywhere: thick creamy collars building right at her entrance, glossy rivulets running down her thighs, puddles under her bouncing ass, slick strings connecting the black head to her weeping hole on every pull-back.

Her first orgasm hit like a freight train—three minutes in. Thighs spasming, ass shaking violently, back arching so hard the ropes creaked.

A squirt jetted around the shallowly buried head—hot, messy arcs soaking his wrist, the table, dripping down her crack to pool at her asshole.

“MMMMMPH—FUCK—!” Her muffled scream dissolved into continuous, sobbing wails as her entrance fluttered and clenched around just the tip.

He didn’t stop. Didn’t push deeper.

He teased her through it—shallow pops and withdrawals—building her right back up while her pussy gaped and clung at the entrance, cream frothing thicker, squirt jets coming every ninety seconds now, soaking everything.

Part two had begun.

And he was only getting started—saving the real stretch, the real ruin, for when he finally replaced the toy with himself.