Claudia and Ben lived on adjacent land but, of the two of them, only he had a well. He would give her water, but only for the right price – she had to arrive at his door completely naked to beg for it, speaking in the third person and degrading herself. “Please sir,” she would gasp, struggling with her pride, “can this stupid bitch have some water?”
He would feel her cunt, and all too often found it humiliatingly moist, her pussy recognising how much she was aroused by the degradation even if her conscious mind would not. He would mock her, asking her why she needed the water when she had so much moisture close at hand, and he would push the fingers that had tested her into her mouth, making her taste her cunt juices.
Then he gave her water. Sometimes he let her bathe in his bath – while he watched, of course. He never fucked her. He never let her cum. Because he knew that one day, as she knelt before him, not making eye contact, she would beg for it, entirely of her own volition, because she had admitted she needed it, blushing, stammering, “Please, sir, would you rape this stupid bitch?”
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