The plug made me walk like I had a secret I couldn’t hide.
Every step down the back stairs shoved it deeper. My ass clenched around the thick base and a slow, filthy trickle of Vincent’s c*m escaped anyway, sliding down the crack and onto the fat of my inner thigh. The uniform dress was too short. If I bent even a little, anyone behind me would see the plug and the mess.
I folded sheets in the laundry room with my legs pressed together and still felt it leak.
The same maid from upstairs came in with a basket. She stopped when she saw me. I kept folding. My n*****s were two hard points against the cotton. There was dried c*m at my hairline I hadn’t been allowed to wash.
She whispered, “They’re going to destroy you.”
“They already are,” I said, and my voice came out hoarse and used. “Do
