Bargains with her Naga Boss

Contents Title Page Copyright i. ii. iii. iv. v. vi. vii. viii. ix. x. xi. xii. xiii. xiv. xv. xvi. xvii. xviii. xix. xx. xxi. xxii. xxiii. BARGAINS WITH HER NAGA BOSS A Modern Monster Romance Mecklenberg Monsters Jove Chambers BARGAINS WITH HER NAGA BOSS © copyright 2023 by Jove Chambers http://vjchambers.com Punk Rawk Books i. “YOU’RE GOING TO take me real easy there, I promise,” her boss said, and his voice was all scratchy, and she shivered a little because she was turned on in spite of everything. She was pretty sure that she shouldn’t be turned on. It was dark outside but bright and too-warm in the kitchen, because the ovens were on to bake the bread for tomorrow’s sandwiches. She was up on her tiptoes, bent over a stainless steel counter, with her torso pressed into it, and her face turned and her cheek against the metal. Her skirt was flipped up. Her underwear were off, so everything back there was bare. Totally bare, totally open, too-warm oven air caressing her bare thighs and tickling her skin and his fingers… Well, everything was all sticky and slick at this point, and two of his fingers were inside her. But not in her pussy, they were in her… Where she shouldn’t be sticky and slick, except he’d rubbed one of his oozing hard cocks against her and transferred all of his natural lube onto her, and now, he was using his fingers to get it, well, into her. And it didn’t feel bad. “Good girl,” he told her. “Nice and easy, just relax for me. Aren’t you pretty all splayed out for me like that?” She bit down on her bottom lip. Tangles. And. Briars. Had she done this before? Obviously, she had not been bent over a counter in her place of business with her doubly-endowed boss behind her ready to, uh, do her. So, not that. Anal itself? Yeah… Well, she was really drunk, and Tommy did it, and it was, you know, okay, she guessed. She wasn’t really sure why her boss’s fingers felt so much different in there than that time, so much better. Maybe because she wasn’t drunk. Except, you’d think being drunk would make something like this easier. How was she ever going to excuse herself for having done this if she was stone-cold sober? Well. No one would ever know. She would never tell anyone. This was just the most degrading and awful (and incredibly hot) thing she could think of, and she was setting the women’s movement back at least seventy years, and it was unfeminist and wrong on every level, and fuck, why was it good? Her boss’s other hand was rubbing her clit. That might have had something to do with things feeling good, admittedly. Whenever she started getting really turned on, and everything got all swollen and sensitive, she guessed it started putting pressure on all the inner parts of her clitoris and everything started to feel really good. Maybe that was why. But so much was going on right now that she couldn’t really keep track of what was making what good feelings happen. She felt assailed by sensation. Her breath started to come in little gasps. His hands left off teasing her, stretching her, whatever it was he was even doing, and then he was rearranging himself. His cocks. Both of them. She should have looked at them more. She had wanted to look at them more. She couldn’t really see them from this angle. But this whole thing had been sort of a bargain. It was for him, not for her. She was doing this for him and then he was giving her things in return. And so she hadn’t really, well, she’d just bent over and gotten her skirt flipped up and let him have has way with her, basically, so… “Good girl,” he muttered again, lining himself up. She felt one of his cocks—it just felt like a regular cock, even if it was sort of abnormally sticky and slick, so it slid right in—penetrate her pussy. The other one, however, sort of slipped around against her other opening, which she knew he’d just been forcing into some sort of stretched submission. Three of his fingers had been in there, so she didn’t see why— “Bear down, Dahlia,” he breathed. What? That seemed entirely the wrong thing to do, but okay. She did it. Pop. Well, so that was—wow, so much was going on in there, so much in her all at once. She gasped. Then held her breath. Then gasped again. He let out an affected breath, steadily invading her very thoroughly, prodding his way into both of her holes, all the way in, taking up every spare bit of space in her entire pelvis, and… Wow. It didn’t feel bad. He slipped a hand around her to tap her gently just above her clitoris, not rubbing her, just a gentle, rhythmic tap, in time to the rhythm he was finding within her. His snake tail was wrapping itself around one of her ankles. He was panting. She was panting. “Good girl,” he managed again, his voice mangled. “So, so good. Fuck.” That affected her, his being affected. She felt a twinge go through her, a pleasureful twinge. She gasped again. Oh, she was not going to have an orgasm from this. Not from this degrading thing that she was doing for his pleasure, some sex act she’d traded for time off work. It was… no. One of his hands was on her hip, fingers digging into her skin, holding her in place. The other was still doing that tapping thing on her mound, and the little taps were radiating down into her clitoris, and his cocks—his big, thick, slippery cocks—were rubbing into her from two different angles, both of which seemed to be somehow also stimulating her clitoris. Suddenly she was groaning, eyes closed, mouth wide open, cheek against the