Chapter 20

CHAPTER 20

M arcus

I gripped Sophia's hips tightly, my fingers digging into her soft flesh. With a growl, I thrust forward brutally, sheathing myself to the hilt in one savage motion. The sensation of her impossibly tight, virgin cunt gripping my cock nearly overwhelmed me.

Sophia screamed, her back arching off the bench. Her cry was a mixture of pain and shocked pleasure that sent a primal thrill through me. I felt her inner walls clench around me, rippling with aftershocks.

"That's it, scream for me, whore," I snarled, my voice rough. I pulled back and slammed into her again, tearing another cry from her throat.

The guards erupted in cheers and obscenities.

"Fuck yeah, show that little slut what she's good for," Marcel grunted.

"Damn, listen to her squeal," another guard laughed. "Like a stuck pig."

"Bet she loves it though," Jacques added with a leer. "Look how wet she is."

Their crude remarks grated on my nerves, stoking the fury I felt at having to share this moment with them. This should have been private, tender. Instead, I was forced to brutalize the woman I loved for the entertainment of these animals.

And yet… a dark part of me reveled in it. In claiming Sophia so completely, marking her as mine in the most primal way possible. My dominance surged, telling me this all represented the right thing for her, for me, for the dangerous situation—for the good of civilization, even.

I gritted my teeth, channeling my conflicted emotions into the punishing rhythm of my thrusts. Sophia's cries had softened to whimpers and gasps, her body yielding to me despite the brutal pace. Her eyes were squeezed shut, tears leaking from the corners.

"Open your eyes," I growled. "Look at me while I fuck you."

She obeyed instantly, her lashes fluttering open. The sight of her wide, tear-filled eyes gazing up at me with such raw vulnerability nearly undid me. I saw fear there, yes, but also trust. And something else… a desperate need that matched my own.

"That's it," I panted. "Naughty girl. Such a naughty little whore for anyone who uses your holes."

Her pussy clenched around me at the brutal praise, drawing a groan from my throat. I could feel her getting wetter, her arousal coating my cock despite the pain I knew she must be feeling.

"See how she takes it?" I grunted to the other guards. "Told you she was made for this. Nothing but an eager little fuck toy."

Marcel laughed crudely. "Damn right. Look at those tits bounce. Can't wait to get my hands on ‘em."

The reminder of what was to come—that I would have to share Sophia with these men—sent a surge of possessive rage through me. I fucked into her harder, deeper, wanting to imprint myself on her very soul.

I pounded into Sophia relentlessly, my hips snapping against hers with bruising force. Her cries had taken on a desperate, keening quality that sent shivers down my spine. I could feel her getting close, her inner walls fluttering around me.

"Look at how she's taking it," I growled to the other guards. "Such a greedy little cunt. I bet she's going to come soon, aren't you, whore?"

Sophia whimpered, her hips rocking up to meet my thrusts. "Please," she gasped. "Please, I need…"

"What do you need?" I demanded, punctuating each word with a brutal thrust. "Say it."

"I need to come!" she cried out. "Please let me come, sir!"

A chorus of lewd encouragement erupted from the guards.

"Make her beg for it," Jacques urged. "Make the little slut work for it."

I grabbed a fistful of Sophia's hair, yanking her head back. "You want to come? Then you're going to have to earn it. Tell these men what a filthy whore you are. Tell them how much you love being fucked like this."

Shame and arousal warred on Sophia's face. For a moment, I feared I had pushed too far. But then she spoke, her voice trembling.

"I'm… I'm a filthy whore," Sophia gasped out, her face flushed with humiliation. "I love being fucked like this. Please, I need it so badly."

Her words sent a jolt of arousal through me, even as I hated forcing her to debase herself this way. I could see the conflict in her eyes—the shame warring with desperate need.

"That's right," I growled, maintaining my brutal pace. "Just a cock-hungry slut. But you haven't earned it yet. Beg these men to use you next. Tell them how much you want their cocks."

Sophia let out a sob, tears leaking from the corners of her eyes. But she obeyed, turning her gaze to the leering guards.

"Please," she whimpered. "Please use me. I… I want your cocks. I need them. Use me like the whore I am."

The guards erupted in cheers and crude comments. I felt sick at their enthusiasm, even as my own arousal grew so urgent I had to chew on the inside of my cheek to keep from exploding inside the columba I loved.

"Naughty girl," I panted, feeling my own release building. "Now come for me. Come on my cock like the eager little fuck toy you are."

I reached down to rub her clit roughly. Sophia cried out, her back arching as she shattered. Her pussy clamped down on me like a vise, milking my cock as she trembled and shook.

Sophia's climax triggered my own. With a guttural groan, I buried myself at full length inside her slick sheath and felt my cock pulse over and over. The primal satisfaction of claiming her, marking her as mine, warred with the guilt and anger I felt at having to share this moment with these brutes.

As I emptied myself into Sophia's quivering depths, I was overwhelmed by a sudden swell of emotion. My heart ached with pride and love for this remarkable young woman who had shown such incredible bravery and resourcefulness. She had willingly put herself in this awful situation to protect our mission, to keep us both alive long enough for backup to arrive.

I gazed down at her flushed face, her lips parted as she gasped for breath, her eyes hazy with the aftershocks of her climax. Even in this moment of utter debasement, she was breathtakingly beautiful. Her strength shone through, a core of steel beneath the vulnerability.

I wanted nothing more than to gather her in my arms, to whisper words of comfort and praise. To tell her how much I admired her, how deeply I cared for her. But I couldn't break character, not with the other guards watching so eagerly.

Instead, I gave her thigh another subtle caress, trying to convey my feelings through that small touch. Her eyes met mine, and I saw a flicker of understanding there. She gave me the tiniest of nods, almost imperceptible.

As I pulled out of her, my seed leaking from her well-used pussy, I sent up a silent prayer of thanks to whatever cosmic forces had brought Sophia into my life. The Pretorian Guard had chosen well when they sent her. She was everything a columba should be—intelligent, adaptable, and unwavering in her dedication to the mission.

And, I couldn't help adding, though it sent a pang stabbing through my chest, I'm pretty sure she loves me as much as I love her.

The aftershocks subsided gradually. I pulled out of Sophia roughly, eliciting a whimper from her. I tucked my cock and balls away and stepped back, allowing the other guards to crowd around her still-trembling form.

"Who's next?" Marcel leered, already unbuckling his belt.

Sophia

I felt their hands all over me, groping and pawing at my body. Part of me wanted to scream, to lash out, but another part of me remembered how it had felt when Marcus had made me admit my whorishness. I needed this, as overwhelming as it was, and I needed even more to make my miles proud.

The tears streaming down my face, and my whimpers of pain and humiliation, were real. At the same time, I made the decision to let them flow freely and to give into the impulse to cry out as I submitted. I had the satisfaction at least, in some distant land where my reasoning mind had traveled, of knowing that I could put on a good show for these men who wanted to degrade me utterly. I could arouse them with my suffering and ensure that their attention didn't wander from their pleasure in brutalizing me.

"Remember, no permanent damage," I heard Marcus growl from behind the row of guards who stood around me, obscuring my miles from my sight. "Monsieur will want her in good condition tomorrow."

But the guards barely acknowledged him, too focused on satisfying their own desires. I felt suddenly glad that I couldn't see him. I didn't think I could bear to look at him as he stood there watching, forcing himself to witness what they did to me.

Or how it's turning me on, despite how desperately I try to cling to the memory of Marcus deflowering me… claiming me as his own.

Jacques grabbed my hair roughly, yanking my head back. "Open wide, whore," he growled, his thick cock already rock hard, its tip glistening. I parted my lips obediently, steeling myself for what was to come.

The guard shoved himself into my mouth without further preamble, the musky taste of him flooding my senses. I gagged as he hit the back of my throat, but he paid no heed to my discomfort. His hips pistoned back and forth, using my mouth like nothing more than a warm, wet hole for his pleasure.

"That's it, take it all," Jacques grunted, his fingers tightening painfully in my hair. Tears streamed down my face as I struggled to breathe around his punishing thrusts.

Meanwhile, Marcel positioned himself between my spread legs. I felt the blunt head of his cock pressing against my still-sensitive entrance. With a savage thrust, he buried himself inside me.

I cried out around Jacques' cock, the sound muffled but still audible. The pain of Marcel's invasion was intense—I was sore and tender from Marcus' earlier claiming. But my traitorous body responded, a rush of wetness easing his way as he set a brutal pace.

"Fuck, she's still so tight," Marcel panted. "Feels even better than I imagined."

Charles, the youngest guard, approached hesitantly. I felt his light, tentative touch on my breast, his fingers trembling slightly as he cupped the soft flesh. Despite my fear and humiliation, I couldn't help but feel a twinge of sympathy for the young guard. He seemed almost as overwhelmed as I was.

"Go on, boy," one of the other guards urged, one whose name I didn't know. "She's just a fuck toy. Use her however you want."

Charles swallowed hard, his eyes darting between my face and his hand on my breast. Then, as if making a decision, he lowered his head and took my nipple into his mouth.

I gasped at the sensation, arching into his touch despite myself. The contrast between his almost gentle ministrations and the brutal way Jacques and Marcel were using me was dizzying.

Jacques pulled out of my mouth abruptly, leaving me gasping for air. Before I could catch my breath, he was replaced by another guard, this one even thicker than Jacques. I choked as he shoved himself down my throat, tears streaming anew down my face.

Marcel's punishing rhythm never faltered. He gripped my hips so tightly, I knew there would be bruises. "That's it, take it like the whore you are," he grunted.

I felt myself spiraling, overwhelmed by sensation. The pain, the humiliation, the flickers of unwanted pleasure—it all blurred together.

I felt Marcel pull out, heard him speak to Charles.

"Take her ass, boy—you know you want to."

They held me open—the other guards, the nameless ones—my knees to my chest, my thighs wide, as they waited. I felt them pressing harder, splaying me further for Charles as I did my best to please the rigid penis in my mouth.

I felt his hands on my thighs, soft but also commanding, as if this experience had begun to awaken him to his dominance. I saw Marcus, just for a moment, between two other guards. My miles' face seemed unreadable, and then, just as I felt Charles' cock press into my smallest hole, I saw Marcus wink.

The wink was a lifeline, a brief tether to sanity in the maelstrom of debauchery. The discomfort was immediate, sharp, and consuming, though, as Charles breached my tightest entrance. Despite his hesitance, his body seemed to know exactly how to claim me. His hands gripped my thighs with newfound authority, fingers digging into my flesh as he pushed deeper, stretching me.

My mind fragmented under the relentless assault on my senses. The taste of the cock in my mouth mingled with the saltiness of my tears as it drove ruthlessly into my mouth. Charles' harsh rhythm was no less punishing as he rammed into my bottom, each thrust eliciting a mix of pain and unwanted pleasure that I couldn't escape.

Marcus' wink lingered in my mind like a beacon of hope. Despite the brutality I endured, that small gesture was a reminder that he was still with me, watching over me even when he couldn't intervene directly.

And it must… it must mean something, right? Distantly, in some far away place where my thoughts took shape, I wondered what.

The huge crash and the new, shouting voices that filled the air a moment later had to have some relation to Marcus' wink. I knew that, even if none of the rest of the things happening seemed connected to one another at all. Men… lots of men: some pulled away from me, some coming towards me…

Then Marcus, picking me up off the bench, cradling me in his arms.

"You did it, Sophia, my sweet girl," he murmured into my ear as he carried me out of the room. "My nupta ."