I gag again, my stomach heaving. It’s impossible to breathe, let alone speak. I try to plead with my eyes, but Gunther just laughs back cruelly.
His hands dig into my hair, snapping off strand after strand.
He’s merciless with each thrust and as he comes, he almost shatters my teeth with the way he forces himself as far into my mouth as he possibly can.
I double over, I collapse, and in my stupidity, I spit out the contents.
I know I’ve made a mistake; I know it the minute that disgusting liquid leaves my lips.
Gunther’s foot slams into my ribs. He kicks me over, onto my back.
“You little bitch.” He spits. “You think you’re too good for my come, is that it? You think you’re so much better than me, huh?”
I shake my head, my body trembling uncontrollably. What do I do? How do I placate him? My eyes dart to the mess, the pool of it, barely a metre from my face. Should I lick it up? Should I stick my tongue out and lap at it, pretending that it’s the most delicious thing I’ve ever tasted?
My stomach turns at the thought, at yet, if it’ll spare me a beating, if it’ll spare me further degradation, I’d gladly do it. Only, I don’t get a chance.
His hand twists into my hair, and I’m screaming, twisting, snatching at the air as he drags me out, drags me through the Palace.
“You’re going to learn.” He hollers, his voice echoing off the hard, polished walls. “You’re going to have so much come down your throat, you won’t be able to taste anything else for a week…”
When we get to the guardhouse, the men are already waiting. No doubt they’ve heard every word my dear husband has said to me.
I’m tossed into the room, tossed into the middle of them. He kicks me in the ribs. “Get on all fours, whore. Show these men what a real cumslut looks like.”
I try to crawl away, but it’s no use. Gunther grabs me by the ankle and drags me back to the centre of the room. His handgrabs my arm, bending it to an angle where it almost breaks and I scream out, submitting under the pain.
He makes me bend over, exposing my arse to the crowd of guards.
“Look at this perfect little asshole,” he says, running his fingers over my sensitive flesh. “So tight and eager for a good fucking. I bet you’d love to have a whole line of cocks pounding into you, wouldn’t you?”
I whimper in fear and humiliation, my body trembling with dread.
I’ve never even been taken there before. All the times Gunther has abused me before have been solely focused on my mouth and pussy. I know such play needs preparation, my mother explained that. She also explained how dirty it is, how men who partake in it are beasts but as a wife, I’d have to smile and offer that part of me if it was required.
I don’t want this. I don’t want any of this.
Gunther spits on my asshole and shoves his cock inside me without warning. I cry out in pain and it feels like they all get off on it, get off on my screams. He starts to fuck me hard, his hips slamming into my arse with brutal force.
“That’s it, whore,” he pants. “Take it like the filthy slut you are. Squeeze my cock with your tight little hole.”
The guards watch every move, their dicks more than obviously straining in their pants. Clearly, they can’t wait to get their turn, and I can feel their eyes on me, on my most intimate parts as they hunger for my body.
Gunther fucks me harder, his cock ploughing into my arse like a jackhammer. Just as I think I can’t take any more, he pulls out with a groan, and he sprays himself all over my back as if marking me as his property.
“There, that’s better,” he says, wiping his cock clean with my hair. “Now, it’s time for the real fun to begin.”
Words fail me.
My strength fails me too as I try to crawl away from him, from them, from all of it.
He drags me back to the centre of the room and forces me to my knees again. The guards surround me, their cocks now out and throbbing with need.
“Who’s first?” Gunther asks with a cruel smile. “Our little whore is eager to swallow you all down. Aren’t you, wife?”
I nod weakly, my eyes filled with tears, and it’s clear, I have no choice. I have to take every last drop, or he’ll hurt me more. Surely, it’s better they use my mouth, than they take the other parts of me?
Gunther grins, grabbing my lips, forcing something past it.