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)
Sven and Erik forced us to our knees on the rough wooden floor. The planks bit into my skin, adding to the myriad discomforts assailing my body. My arms ached from being restrained for so long, and my cheeks still stung from Erik’s earlier slaps.
“Now,” Sven said, reaching for the buckle of my gag, “let’s hear those pretty screams.”
As soon as the rubber ball was pulled from her mouth, Camille let out a piercing shriek that echoed off the barn’s high ceiling. I hesitated for a split second, my mind racing. This was it—our cover story began now. Everything that happened from this moment on would be recorded, analyzed by the Pretorian Guard. We had to make it convincing.
Taking a deep breath, I opened my mouth and screamed. The sound tore from my throat, raw and primal. I poured all of my fear and confusion into it—fear of the mission ahead, confusion at my body’s traitorous responses. I screamed until my lungs burned, until spots danced before my eyes.
When I finally fell silent, gasping for air, I realized Sven had moved to stand directly in front of me. My gaze traveled up his long legs, past the obvious bulge in his jeans, to meet his icy blue eyes. The look he gave me was one of cold appraisal, as if assessing livestock at auction.
With deliberate slowness, Sven began to unbuckle his belt. The soft whisper of leather sliding through denim loops seemed unnaturally loud in the sudden quiet. I couldn’t tear my eyes away from his hands as he unzipped his fly and reached inside.
I heard a sharp crack echo through the barn as Sven’s palm connected with my cheek—as if the blow had happened to another girl. Then the sting bloomed across my skin, bringing fresh tears to my eyes. Before I could process the shock, I saw Sven’s thick manhood spring free from his jeans. My mouth watered involuntarily at the sight, my body’s Pavlovian response kicking in despite my fear.
Without warning, Sven grabbed a fistful of my hair and yanked my head back. I gasped at the sudden pain, and he used the opportunity to thrust his cock past my parted lips. The musky taste of him filled my mouth as he pushed deeper, hitting the back of my throat.
I gagged reflexively, tears streaming down my face as Sven began to fuck my mouth in earnest. His hips pistoned back and forth, driving his shaft deeper with each thrust. The sound of his grunts and the wet slap of flesh on flesh filled the air.
“That’s it, little slut,” Sven growled, his voice thick with pleasure. “Take it all.”
To my right, I heard Camille let out a muffled cry. The sound was so full of desperate need that it made my pussy clench with sympathetic arousal. I caught a glimpse of Erik’s powerful form looming over her, his hands tangled in her dark hair as he used her mouth just as roughly.
My jaw ached from the stretch, and I struggled to breathe around Sven’s thick member. But even as I choked and sputtered, I felt a familiar heat building between my legs. My body betrayed me, responding to the rough treatment with shameful eagerness.
“Listen up, you little whores,” Sven said, his voice strained as he continued to thrust. “We’re going to make a video now for the man who’s paid to acquire you.”
My eyes widened at his words, and I saw Camille’s do the same. I understood, and I processed it, on a logical level, even in the midst of the terrible confusion it evoked in my body. This video would convince the Pretorian Guard of our captive status.
“The man who paid,” Sven continued, punctuating his words with particularly deep thrusts, “wants to determine if he’ll keep you for himself or sell you to another master.”
I whimpered around Sven’s cock, the reality of our situation hitting me anew. We weren’t just play-acting now—we had to create a narrative that would determine our fate in the eyes of some of the most dangerous people in the world.
“If you want to live in luxury,” Sven added, his voice growing harsher, “you’ll take your whipping well, and then you’ll show your owner how much you love to eat each other’s cunts and asses.”
My hips jerked involuntarily at his crude words, a jolt of arousal shooting through me. The thought of being forced to pleasure Camille, of having her tongue explore my most shameful place, brought the same confusing mix of shame and need I had felt so many times over the last days—but with a dismaying twist: I felt the strange necessity to… to pretend that I was pretending, though that made no sense at all to my rational mind. Something in me longed to enjoy my submission while making it clear that I didn’t enjoy it, didn’t need it.