My eyes flicked up toward the camera mounted over the door. He gazed levelly at me, reading my thoughts. "Yes, I'm sure Ranbir's probably watching." Slight smile. "He really enjoys watching you. Almost as much as he likes fucking you." He uncoiled the hose and with a few deft movements, connected the end to the faucet in the sink. He turned on the water, and a thin stream flowed from the end of the nozzle. "Turn around."

"Nooooo! Please!" Intense, fiery shame gripped me.

"Naina Kumari Sengupta," he said calmly, enunciating each word clearly. "Turn around right now. Put your hands on top of your head. Spread your legs apart. Bend over and touch your nose to the wall."

Stunned speechless, I turned slowly toward the wall. My hands felt like lead as I raised them to my head. I stood with my legs apart, and leaned forward until my nose just touched the cold tile wall. My eyes brimmed with tears.

"Open your legs wider."

I complied, feeling awkward and off-balance.

"Wider."

I moved my legs apart further still. In this position, I felt helpless, unable to prevent what he was about to do to me. The tears spilled over and ran down my cheeks. Ranbir is watching, he's going to see me this way...

"Good." I felt Robin's hand spreading my ass cheeks, felt a stream of warm water against my skin. Something hard and unyielding pressed against my ass. "Relax."

Firm, steady pressure. I resisted for a moment, then felt the smooth metal nozzle stretching me open. Water poured down my thigh. More pressure, a sense of widening, and I felt my ass open up to the invasion. I cried out as I took the nozzle inside, and felt warmth spreading within me.

His arms reached around me from behind. One hand slid flat over my belly; the other moved down, between my legs. I felt more pressure, and a sense of violation as his fingers slid into my cunt. "Tell me when it's too much."

The warmth began to fill me. I whimpered and writhed on Robin's fingers. "That's it," he said. "That feels good, doesn't it?" His fingers moved inside me, and I shuddered and squirmed and moaned through my tears. Little ripples of pleasure radiated outward from where his fingers worked their magic, and my responses only intensified the humiliation.

He pressed his palm flat against my stomach, and the warmth inside me grew, together with a growing pressure. I tried to twist my hips away; his arms caged me, preventing me from moving. I imagined how I must look, leaning naked against the wall with the hose protruding ignobly from me and connected to the faucet, with Robin's fingers shoved up inside me, and felt my body flush with embarrassment. "No," I whispered plaintively.

His fingers worked faster. I caught my breath and moaned again. The warmth and pressure and a feeling of fullness increased steadily, slowly, in my belly. With gentle pressure, he slid his thumb up over my clit and moved it in little half-circles. I pressed my hips forward and let the pleasure run through me. His fingers moved deeper, and I thrust my hips against them, wanting more.

The relentless, unceasing pressure continued. His fingers did something down between my legs, and my reason faded. It was all too much-the shame, the humiliation, the growing discomfort, the longing and need-and still I wanted more. Wave after wave of raw physical ecstasy coiled around the uncomfortable fullness, and soon I became aware that he was holding his hand still and I was bucking my hips madly, sobbing, riding his fingers, grinding against his thumb, screaming with every thrust as I took myself. "Oh God oh God oh God," I whimpered as I wept and thrashed and drove myself onto those infuriating, fingers. "Oh, God, I'm going to come, please, please..."

He pressed his hand sharply against my belly. The pressure created a shockwave of discomfort bordering on pain, and I cried out. I bucked wildly, chasing the interrupted orgasm. He increased the pressure with his hand, and I howled. "It's too much!"

He pulled his fingers from me. I staggered and gasped. He gripped the nozzle inside me, and I felt myself stretching open again as he pulled it free. I yelped as it came out. "Hold it," he said.

I could feel the huge volume of liquid sloshing around in me. He put the nozzle in the sink, and I whimpered and squirmed. "Please, please," I begged, "it's too much, please!"

"Hold it," he repeated. He caressed my belly gently, then pressed the tips of his fingers into my soft flesh. I felt stretched and full beyond my capacity. Tears flowed from my eyes again, and my own wetness flowed down my thighs. He showed me the fingers that had been inside me, thickly smeared with white. "You are very wet," he said. "I think you like this."

"No! Too...it's too much!"

He laughed and wiped his fingers off on my breast. Even that little thing, that one simple act, made me feel objectified and possessed. Tears streamed down my face. "Please..."

He turned me away from the wall, and I staggered and leaned heavily against him. He put his hands on my shoulders and pressed me down, inexorably, until I was kneeling on the bathroom floor in front of him. Liquid gurgled and sloshed heavily within me, straining for release. His hands caressed my head and gathered up my hair. He pulled my head back, forcing me to look up at him. "Do you still like giving yourself to me?"

I nodded mutely, my cheeks tear-stained.

He guided the head of his stiff cock to my lips. I opened my mouth without a word.

He used my mouth roughly, thrusting his hips strongly over and over again, and soon he shuddered and released a torrent of thick warm goo. I gulped quickly, then gently licked the head and shaft of his penis as it softened in my mouth.

He smiled. "That felt very good," he said. He picked me up by my arms, and I felt sloshing inside me again. He helped me sit on the toilet. "You may release it now."

My body, stretched and filled to the limit, didn't even wait for a conscious decision. The warm water exploded out of me in a torrent. I let out a strangled cry and whimpered, feeling abruptly, catastrophically empty.

Robin grinned. "Get dressed so I can tell you about your errand." He left the bathroom; I picked up the discarded towel lying forlorn on the floor and wrapped it around myself. A last couple of sobs escaped; I felt drained, both literally and figuratively, and horny, and ashamed, and slightly apprehensive.

And I still hadn't come. Damnit, damnit, damnit.

He dressed ahead of me. I wiped my eyes and went into the bedroom to find him already half-dressed; unbuttoned white Oxford shirt over blue jeans. He was just zipping the jeans as I walked into the bedroom, and I caught a brief glimpse of the head of his cock as it disappeared. He noticed my gaze and smiled. "Still haven't had enough?"

"I'm still frustrated!" I snapped.

"Good. You won't be tonight when I get back from Ranbir's, I promise." He kissed my cheek. "I love you!"

I growled at him. "I love you too. Even though you're a bastard."

He grinned. "You love me because I'm a bastard, Naina dear." He kissed my forehead, then gathered me into his arms, the gesture very tender.

I wrapped my arms around him and hugged him fiercely, tightly, and sniffled. "You made me cry!" I said accusingly.

"I did! Then I fucked your mouth," he chirped brightly.

"And you still haven't let me come!"

"I'm not done with you yet." He kissed my cheek and released me. "I told you I have something special planned for you. We haven't even started on that yet." He looked into my eyes and smiled as his fingers buttoned his shirt. "I want you to go shopping. Find a new outfit. Something really sexy; something that'll knock my socks off. Shouldn't take you more than an hour or two. Wear it home." He kissed my cheek again. "I'm going over to Ranbir's for a little while, but I can hardly wait to come back home."

I sniffled again, still feeling vulnerable and slightly ashamed, both for what he had just done to me and for my own responses, my own need.

He rubbed his hands together with glee, looking like a delighted ten-year-old who has just been told that Christmas came early this year and brought with it a week-long trip to Disneyland. I smiled slightly in spite of myself; his boyish enthusiasm seemed contagious.

"Here." He reached into the closet, pulled out a white pullover shirt and a pair of pants. "Hurry up and get dressed. You have some shopping to do!"

I dressed and followed him out to the living room. "I'm going to head over to Ranbir's now," he said. "He's supposed to be grilling some steaks this evening. I'll see you later!" He stopped at the door and drew me into a kiss.

I returned the kiss deeply. His arms wrapped around me, and I pressed my body tightly against his. He crushed me against him and his tongue pushed past my lips. I moaned, all my hunger channeled into the white-hot passion of that kiss.

We were both panting when he broke it off. I shook my head slightly to clear it. He smiled a dreamy, faraway smile. "Mmm, you are such a delight. Hold that thought until tonight."

He left, and I followed him out the door. He smiled and blew me a kiss as he drove off; I watched him go, not quite sure what I was feeling. At first, long ago, when I had gone to him and told him what I wanted, how I'd wanted to belong to him, to be made to do whatever he wanted me to do, he'd been tentative, unsure. Over time, he'd grown into the role, and it had become second nature to him. But now...

Now we truly were in uncharted territory. He'd found ways to make it work for him, beyond what I had originally envisioned, and this week had seen me do things I never believed I would do. Now I was the one who felt tentative and uncertain. These things he was doing to me...they thrilled me, excited me, but they also scared me. He had ordered me to give myself to another man, he had humiliated and exposed me, he had even made me cry.