Total pages in book: 138
Estimated words: 125077 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 625(@200wpm)___ 500(@250wpm)___ 417(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 125077 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 625(@200wpm)___ 500(@250wpm)___ 417(@300wpm)
A strange mixture of emotions washed over me—relief that Sven had maintained his cover, shame at being so casually offered to these men, and beneath it all, a perverse excitement that made my pussy clench around Cassandra’s probing fingers. My body betrayed me utterly, responding to the situation with an arousal that seemed to intensify with each passing moment.
Marmareus inclined his head in acknowledgment, satisfaction evident in the slight curve of his lips. “Nymphobi,” he said, his eyes looking past us at the huge men who waited behind our benches, “yours is the privilege to begin. Let us see you fuck these Columbae well, and make them Nuptae indeed.”
CHAPTER 47
Mary
I felt the big man behind me place a hand on my belt, his massive fingers curling around the leather with possessive confidence. The restraint, which had felt so alien when first fastened around my waist, now seemed to burn against my skin, like an emotional, as well as a physical, reinforcement of my role in this terrible ritual.
“I am Nymphobus Lucius,” he announced, his deep voice resonating through the chamber like distant thunder. “I thank you, brothers in power, for the loan of this cunt.”
A moan escaped my lips before I could suppress it as I felt Lucius position the head of his cock at the entrance to my vagina. The blunt pressure against my sensitized flesh sent shivers racing along my spine. Cassandra’s ministrations had left me wet and ready, my body’s natural response to stimulation regardless of what my mind might prefer.
I turned my head as much as the restraints would allow, seeking reassurance in Camille’s presence beside me. What I saw made my breath catch in my throat. The other Nymphobus stood behind Camille, positioning his enormous manhood at the entrance to her pussy. His free hand gripped her belt in the same proprietary manner as Lucius held mine, his massive frame dwarfing her bound form.
“I am Nymphobus Brutus,” he intoned, his voice a perfect echo of his companion’s. “I thank you, brothers in power, for the loan of this cunt.”
I watched, transfixed, as Brutus pressed the head of his cock just inside Camille’s entrance. Her face contorted in a mixture of discomfort and unwilling pleasure, her dark eyes wide with the same conflicted emotions that churned within me. In that moment, our gazes met across the small space separating our benches, and I felt a surge of solidarity with my sister völva. We had remained together, through all of this; that counted for something, in our own eyes, at least—and perhaps even in the eyes of our masters.
Brutus looked over at Lucius, their eyes meeting in silent communication. I recognized the look—they were timing their first thrusts, coordinating their use of our bodies as if we were instruments to be played in unison. I felt Lucius’ hand tighten on my belt, his grip becoming an anchor point, a fulcrum against which he would leverage his penetration. At the same moment, I saw Brutus do the same to Camille’s belt, his massive fingers digging into the leather.
Then, as I watched Brutus thrust his hardness inside Camille, I felt Lucius do the same to me. Both Camille and I cried out, the sudden, complete invasion of our bodies drawing the sounds from our throats without our intention. The Nymphobi, both hands on our belts now, held themselves in at full length, their cocks buried fully inside our wet sheaths.
“Are they tight?” Marmareus asked, as if the question were part of a ritual. His voice carried across the chamber with the weight of ancient tradition, the formal inquiry seeming to transform the raw obscenity of the scene into something sacred.
“Tight indeed,” Lucius replied, his massive body perfectly still as he savored the sensation of my inner walls gripping his rigid penis. “This cunt is a gift from heaven on my manhood.”
I felt my face flame with humiliation at being discussed so crudely while my body was impaled on a stranger’s cock. The leather restraints creaked as I shifted slightly, trying to adjust to the overwhelming fullness stretching me from within.
“The same,” Brutus said about Camille, his voice a rumbling bass that seemed to vibrate through the stone floor beneath us. “A gift from heaven, indeed.”
I glanced at Camille, saw her eyes squeezed shut, her lower lip caught between her teeth as she processed the same invasion I was experiencing. The bench beneath her trembled slightly with the force of Brutus’ grip on her belt.
“Ride them hard, then,” Marmareus commanded, his tone shifting from ritualistic to imperious. “These Columbae must learn the ways of civilized men.”
As Lucius began to move within me, I turned my gaze toward Sven, desperate for some connection, some reminder that I belonged to him despite what was happening to my body. What I saw in his ice-blue gaze made my breath catch in my throat.