The gravel road was empty, just dust clouds chasing the car as we drove.
She leaned back in her seat, smirking at me with that mouth that always gets her in trouble.
"I bet there's nothing new you can do lately. I know it all."
Her voice soft, teasing… deliberately provoking the sadist she belongs to.
We both knew what she was doing.
We both knew what she was asking for.
I slowed the car.
She didn't panic.
She didn't protest.
She simply inhaled, thighs pressing together—that little ritual she always does when she knows I'm about to break her open.
I stopped the car on the side of the road.
"Out."
She stepped out immediately.
She had agreed to this months ago:
When she provokes the sadist, she accepts whatever comes next.
I pulled her toward me, spun her around, and pushed her to her knees in the dirt.
She was already opening her mouth, hands behind her back because she knows that's the rule.
I grabbed her jaw and fed myself into her—hard, fast, relentless.
She gagged, drool spilling down her chin, eyes watering… but she never pulled away.
Her whole body said yes in every breath.
When I finished, I held her hair tight and let my cum settle on her tongue, across her lips.
She swallowed because she knows who she belongs to.
Then I looked down at her—my good little slut in the dust—and she nodded.
Silent.
Obedient.
Inviting more.
So I gave her more.
Her back arched as the warm stream hit her shirt, her chest, her stomach.
She didn't look away.
She met my eyes the whole time, moaning softly as the humiliation washed over her.
"Still think I have nothing new?" I asked.
She shook her head quickly, breathless.
"Never, Sir… never."
I pulled her up by the wrist, opened the door, and put her back in the passenger seat.
She sat there with her shirt clinging to her body, still soaked, still trembling.
We kept driving.
When we reached the next village, I stopped the car.
"Go inside and get us snacks and drinks."
She hesitated for half a secondexcitement, not fear, then climbed out.
Her shirt was wet.
Her cheeks were flushed.
Anyone looking closely would wonder.
And that was the point.
That was the thrill she craved.
She walked into the shop exactly as my slut should
shaken, obedient, glowing from being used… and completely satisfied.
She slid back into the car with the snacks, breathing fast, cheeks flushed.
Her shirt was still damp and clinging to her body, nipples sharp against the fabric from the cold… or from the memory of what I did to her.
The moment she closed the door, I took one look at her and smirked.
"Keep your legs open."
She obeyed instantly.
We drove on until the dust from the first village faded behind us.
The road curved through empty fields before another small settlement appeared in the distance—this one even quieter, one shop, a few houses, and a handful of people sitting outside under a shade.
She noticed it too.
Her breath caught.
Not fear—anticipation.
"You challenged me earlier," I said calmly. "And one village isn't enough."
Her thighs clenched.
Her voice small:
"Yes, Sir."
The second village was more alive.
A few locals were gathered by the fence, older men talking, a woman sweeping outside a small spaza.
She swallowed hard.
I pulled in slowly.
She looked at me, already trembling.
"Take off the wet shirt."
She froze—not because she didn't want to, but because this was deeper humiliation.
Her eyes lifted to mine, wide and obedient.
"Now."
She peeled the shirt off, exposing her Sports bra, slightly sheer from the wetness.
Her skin was still stained from earlier, the scent faint on her.
I took the shirt and tossed it onto the back seat.
"You'll walk in like this."
Taking a risk of a sports Bra she often goes on a run with it this won't be something new except the wetness of my Pee making it cling to her more tight.
Her breathing broke for a moment.
Her nerves shook through her body like electricity… and yet her pupils were blown wide with arousal.
"Sir… everyone will see"
"Good.
You wanted new.
You're going to earn it."
I leaned in, gripped her jaw, and kissed her—hard, claiming, leaving her dazed and pliant.
"Get out," I whispered against her mouth.
"And don't hide yourself."
She stepped out barefoot, bra exposed, skin flushed, chest rising and falling.
A man sitting outside the shop turned his head, eyebrows lifting slightly.
She didn't look away.
She walked toward the door like a girl carrying her secret shame on her skin…
and loving every burning second of it.
Inside, she picked up what I asked for bottled water, chips, more drinks hands shaking just enough to betray how overwhelmed she was.
When she returned to the car, she stood by my window, waiting for permission to get inside like a trained pet.
I let her wait.
People glanced.
She kept her eyes down.
Finally I opened the door.
"Get in, girl."
She slid in, exhaling shakily.
As soon as the door closed, she whispered:
"Sir… that was…
I don't even have a word for it."
I took her chin and turned her face toward me.
"That's because I always have something new."