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)
As I spoke, I could feel my own arousal building. The sight of Mary on her knees, the wet heat of her mouth, the knowledge of how thoroughly I had claimed her—all pushed me toward the edge.
“I’m going to come down your throat now, slut,” I told her, my voice a bit strained with the effort of holding back. “And you’re going to swallow every drop like the good little whore you are.”
“Don’t bother pretending you don’t like this,” Erik said, his eyes fixed on Camille’s pretty face as he held himself deep inside her mouth. “Our cocks down your throats, and whatever your new master is going to give you.”
Mary
My heart pounded as Erik’s words registered through the haze of arousal and shame clouding my mind. To my dismay, I had the sudden, almost irrepressible urge to put my hand between my thighs and play with myself.
I shouldn’t bother pretending I didn’t like this? But I was pretending, wasn’t I? Or was I pretending to pretend? My thoughts swirled in confused circles as Sven’s cock continued to thrust relentlessly into my mouth.
I glanced over at Camille, seeing my own conflicted emotions mirrored in her dark eyes. Erik was using her mouth just as roughly, his large hands tangled in her hair as he fucked her face with abandon.
Suddenly, Sven’s grip on my hair tightened almost painfully. “Pay attention, slut,” he growled. “Your only job right now is to please your master.”
I whimpered around his thick shaft, forcing my gaze back to meet his icy blue eyes. The intensity I saw there made me shiver. There was no trace of the gentle, caring man who had held me so tenderly just hours before. This was a stranger—cold, dominant, and utterly in control.
“That’s it,” Sven grunted, his hips picking up speed. “Take it all.”
My body betrayed me, responding to his rough treatment with a surge of arousal so intense it made me dizzy. My pussy clenched and throbbed, desperate for attention. I found myself trying to relax my jaw, soften the place into which my Herra thrust his huge, beautiful penis.
“Fuck,” Sven groaned, his rhythm becoming erratic. “I’m going to come. Swallow it all, slut. Don’t you dare spill a drop.”
With a final, brutal thrust, Sven buried himself in my throat. I felt his cock pulse, flooding my mouth with his hot seed. I struggled not to gag, forcing myself to swallow around him. The salty, musky taste filled my senses as I gulped down every drop, just as he had commanded.
Beside me, I heard Camille make a choked sound as Erik found his own release. The stable echoed with the men’s grunts of pleasure and our muffled whimpers.
As Sven slowly withdrew from my mouth, I gasped for air, my chest heaving. Saliva and traces of his cum dripped down my chin. I felt utterly debased, used… and yet, to my dismay, desperately aroused.
“Good girls,” Erik said, his voice rough with satisfaction. “You’re learning.”
Before I could fully catch my breath, Sven grabbed my arm, hauling me to my feet. I stumbled, my legs weak and shaky. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Erik doing the same to Camille.
I gasped as Sven seized my wrists roughly, binding them tightly in front of me with a leather thong. The material bit into my skin and I winced at the pain. Beside me, I heard Camille whimper at the similar treatment her master inflicted.
Sven and Erik led us deeper into the stable, past empty, musty stalls. My bare feet stumbled on the uneven wooden planks, splinters threatening to pierce my soles. We came to a stop in front of a large stall, its door hanging slightly ajar.
Sven shoved me inside, the force of his push causing me to stumble. I caught myself against the rough wooden wall, wincing as the splintered surface scraped my palms. Camille was pushed in beside me, her shoulder brushing mine as we stood side by side.
Sven and Erik deftly secured our bound hands to hooks on the wall at the height of our faces, so I could rest my cheek against my wrists. Then they pulled us further from the wall, making us arch our backs, so that the position forced us to stand on our tiptoes, arms stretched uncomfortably above our heads. I felt strain in my lower back, a dull ache that I knew would soon turn into burning pain.
Shafts of sunlight filtering through gaps in the weathered wood lit the stall with a dim glow. Dust motes danced in the air, stirred by our ragged breathing. The smell of old hay and horse sweat lingered, mingling with the muskier scent of our own fear and arousal.
I heard a soft electronic beep and turned my head to see Erik fiddling with a handheld camera. He adjusted some settings before pointing it at us, the small red light indicating it was now recording. My heart raced at the realization that our humiliation was about to be immortalized on video.