Page 105 of Deviant

So I keep my back straight, my head high and proud, and I stare down my nose at every single Lord who looks my way as if I really am better than them.

The front of my dress is cut low to ensure that the brand on my chest is visible. At times, I swear I can feel it tingling even though it’s long since healed. Magnus had it tattooed, embedded with actual gold so now it’s even more prominent, like a piece of jewellery I’ll never take off.

My hair has grown back enough to look like a pixie cut. In time, it’ll grow long enough that no one will ever know I was shaved.

Magnus murmurs something, and that memory, that flashback of being pinned down and raped, evaporates.

I give a slight nod and follow him up onto the dais, while our rivals move to stand on one opposite us.

The man with the incense starts circling around both the stages, chanting something in Latin that I do not understand. But today is where the official lines are drawn. Today is where the open war begins.

I know Magnus has something spectacular planned for later. I can tell both from the hint of a smile on his lips and from the way he fucked me so hard before we got here. My pussy throbs at the memory, I squeeze my thighs and I can feel his come dripping down just enough to help soothe the ache.

He tilts his head, glancing at me as if he knows that I’m feeling desperate for him again.

As the chanting ceases, the crowd around us falls silent.

Two girls step out. They can’t be more than teenagers but whoever they are, they’ve been specifically chosen for this honour. They cross the room, coming to a stop before me and Elaine.

With shaky hands, I remove my mask and reveal my face. A tiny bit of saliva drools down my chin from where the mouthpiece is, but I bare it no mind. It’s not like I won’t be drooling more in a minute anyway.

The girl before me inclines her head, like I’m some sort of goddess and she takes my mask with both hands before stepping back, giving me space to perform my duties.

Magnus turns enough to ensure everyone here will get a good view of this, and I slip onto my knees, opening the split of my dress wider, just as he instructed this morning. He wants them to feast on my body, to see every inch of me as I prove to them all what a loyal, devoted wife I now am.

I don’t look to Elaine. I don’t even glance at her, though I know she too is on her knees before her husband.

Magnus said that though this is technically a race for who can get their husbands off quicker, he doesn’t want me to be fast. He wants me to take my time, to show off my skills. To truly honour him—and to put a final stop on all the naysayers about me. Those who are still openly opposing my new status as Magnus’s wife.

My hands reach up, slowly I undo his belt, and pull his trousers open enough that his cock springs free. He’s so engorged already I can barely wait to get a taste of him.

His mask is firmly in place, hiding his expression but I know beneath it, he is smiling at me.

I open my mouth wide, sucking him down inch by inch, covering him in my salvia. My right hand moves to cup his balls, while my left holds his cock at an angle that ensures everyone here can see how deep I can swallow him.

He groans as I start working away. Bobbing back and forth.

We’ve been practicing this. Working day and night to ensure that I can deep throat him enough that I don’t choke.

Behind me though, I hear the gags and the sloppy sounds of my counterpart. Lord Ratcliffe is groaning, grinding, nodoubt rocking his hips and barely a second later he’s coming like he’s a teenager having his first ever blow job. Either he’s taken steps to give himself blue balls or his wife must be left seriously disappointed in the bedroom.

I hear Magnus chuckle and it’s hard not to react myself. Titus thinks he’s beaten us, scored a point, but now I have the entire room’s attention and I’m determined that my performance will have them all in raptures.

My husband reaches down, planting a gentle hand on my head and I pull off with a pop before swirling my tongue around the girth of him. He’s a good seven inches, thick too, and I make sure to worship every bit of him.

As I get to the base, I suck one ball into my mouth and then the other. I know I’m aroused enough that my pussy is dripping and a part of me is dying to touch myself, to get myself off too.

But those are not the rules.

That is not permitted.

This is meant to be a show of obedience and servitude. A display of how perfect I am in my wifely duties. And it’s meant to set an example to everyone watching too; it’s a statement of what sort of leader Magnus would be, keeping his wife in check, proving that we both adhere to the family values of the Brethren.

It’s misogynistic bullshit. The old me knows it. The old me hates it.

And yet, the new me loves the fact that a thousand eyes are watching, are eagerly devouring every move I make, hearing the slurps, and the moans, and all of it as I work my husband’s cock to perfection.

And I’ll admit it does make me feel strong, it makes me feel invincible because I have the great Magnus Blake literally at my mercy right now, and if that’s not power then I don’t know what is.

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