Chapter 22

Chapter Twenty-Two

SERAFINA

If you really want to know the only thing going through my head right now…

Please don’t throw up.

Please, pretty please, do not puke all over Tyrant’s cock right now.

There’s a voice begging in my brain, wanting my body to somehow rewire itself instantly to not feel that intense, throat-clenching gag feeling. Because Tyrant is big . And there’s a lot of him in my mouth, with plenty more to go.

Panic attempts to climb up my chest but it vanishes because I have other things to focus on. All around me, the masked men are getting closer. Step after step, forming a tight circle around Tyrant and myself.

Tyrant’s large hand grips the back of my head with purposeful force. He’s not going to even think about letting up until his entire cock is in my mouth, and my throat.

I’ve never… done that .

I always had a personal limit when it comes to something touching near the back of my tongue. Like if I went to the doctor with a sore throat and they needed to swab my throat, you’d swear I was getting my arm amputated without anesthesia.

But here’s Tyrant’s thick cock, pressing the back of my tongue. His fingers digging against my head, pulling me closer to him.

“All of it,” he growls at me, a reminder I don’t need.

The guys in masks are closer than ever. Close enough that they’re kind of bumping into Tyrant as he stands there.

I face my new reality here that I’m on full display, sucking someone’s cock. My lips wrapped around Tyrant’s shaft, taking more of him. My eyes watering, not from sadness or fear. The swollen head of his cock touches my throat. A rush of heat suddenly hits my body, like I’ve overcome a fear or something. I tilt my head back a little and feel Tyrant pushing harder against my mouth. Soon my lips are touching his body. Resting against a well-kept patch of pubic hair. His cock buried inside my mouth. Panic fighting to break through because right now, truthfully, I can’t fucking breathe.

Yet the heat pulsating throughout my body tells me I fucking like this. I like that Tyrant’s hand is strong and aggressive, keeping my face pressed against his pubic area, not letting up for a moment. I like that all these masked men are watching this, yet it’s Tyrant who is getting his cock pleasured by me.

Tyrant moves his hand from the back of my head. My body begs for me to move too but I know better than to do that. His hands touches my throat and he pushes me back, slowly removing his cock from my throat, sliding it along my shivering tongue, and then finally exiting my mouth.

A string of spit connects my lips to his cock still as I can’t help myself as I gasp for a breath of air. My body shakes, not out of slight panic but uncontrollable need.

Tyrant moves forward again, plunging his cock back into my mouth. This time he fucks my mouth. His right hand grips my throat with force but not enough to reduce my supply of air. His cock pumps in and out of my mouth, fast, hard, disregarding any thoughts of how my mouth is supposed to remain so widely open.

My jaw throbs with an ache. Each time I feel the head of his cock hit the back of my throat, I groan. I realize just how loud I’m groaning yet I don’t care.

All around me, the masked men just stand. Just watch. Tyrant is taking me. Taking my throat. I feel my nerve endings tingling and sizzling. There’s a hint of embarrassment that attacks me. A ping of humiliation. Again, I’ve never done anything like this before. I guess the closest you can consider would be one time an ex fingered me in a bathroom at a party. The door was unlocked and I could hear the music and voices on the other side of the bathroom wall.

But that compared to this?

Tyrant’s left hand takes a handful of my hair and begins to twist and pull. He’s moving faster. His cock is getting bigger too. I know he’s getting close.

By now I’ve soaked through my own panties. My pussy is all but dripping at this point. It’s startling and revealing, leaving me wondering if this is some kind of fantasy that I’ve had hidden my entire life and never knew.

My panties hug against my pussy. Wetness creeps toward my inner thighs. I can’t help it.

“Swallow me, claimed one ,” Tyrant’s growling voice then commands.

His cock suddenly tightens and lets go, throwing cum at the back of my throat. I attempt to cough which leads me to then gag loudly. More cum coats the back of my tongue, desperate to drip down my throat and into my belly.

He pumps his cock in and slightly out of my mouth. Sliding his pulsating body against my slippery tongue, a healthy mix of my spit and his cum, plus the natural heat of my mouth.

Tyrant finally pulls himself free from my mouth for good. His cock is a glistening mess. Saliva and semen like a clear sheath on his shaft.

His hands move away from me and rest as his sides. I’m on my knees, swallowing cum and spit, some of which I can feel gently trickling from my bottom lip to my chin.

It’s quiet. Extremely quiet. So quiet I can hear my heart thudding inside my chest. It feels like it’s shaking the entire room. This dark, seance-like room.

Black curtains on all the walls. A throne behind me. A legit throne too. Big, wide, metal looking with fierce scenes, skulls, and a blood-red seat on it. A high back. It resembles what you think the devil would sit upon in hell. I guess that’s fitting for where I am, isn’t it?

I swallow one more time. My jaw throbs in pain, but I enjoy it. Knowing the ache is from taking Tyrant’s cock. Knowing that even though he fucked my mouth until he finished it was, yes, my mouth that pleasured him and received his seed.

There’s a sudden movement from both corners of my eyes. I’m unable to choose one to focus on. Hands clutch my arms. Tight. Really tight.

Too tight!

Before I can scream, a hand clamps over my mouth and my head is pulled back. I’m staring up at a gold mask. This guy is the only one wearing a gold mask.

“If you make noise, I will cut your tongue out,” he says to me.

His other hand touches my throat.

Where’s Tyrant?! Why isn’t he stopping this?! These other men are hurting me!

Tyrant! I need you, Tyrant!

My eyes fill with tears.

“He’s still here,” the man in the gold mask says. His voice is crunchy, distorted by some kind of voice changer, like I’m in some horror movie. “He’s going to continue the ceremony. Your blood will be his.”

Wait a fucking second… blood?

I’m driven down to my ass, still looking up at the gold masked man. Hands touch my legs and I try to kick.

“It’s me, claimed one ,” Tyrant’s voice says. “Nobody will touch here but me. That’s why you’re mine, Serafina. You are fucking mine.”

My body quickly relaxes. My arms hurt and my shoulders feel like they’re going to pop out of their sockets. My neck is strained and aches and the stranger’s hand on my throat does not feel the same as when Tyrant does it.

I realize then that I’m already getting used to Tyrant’s brand of attention. The way he touches me. The way he grabs me. The way he hurts me.

“Going to sting for a second, claimed one ,” Tyrant says.

Before I can attempt to think or brace myself I feel a warm tearing pain at my left inner thigh. I let out a scream because I can’t help it.

I gasp for a breath, realizing I’ve just been cut. That’s the pain. Tyrant just cut my inner thigh. I then feel his hand press against the fresh wound.

The man in the gold mask releases his hold on me and I can finally look at Tyrant again. He’s not wearing his mask.

The shock of that makes me gasp again. Tyrant’s evil, devil-like painted face staring at me.

He holds up a knife. There’s blood on it. My blood. I watch as he brings the knife to his mouth and flicks his tongue against it.

Why the fuck is this so hot?

I’m melting. Shivering, aching, melting.

Tyrant reaches back and someone takes the knife from him.

I’m on my ass with my legs spread, my dress hiked up. I’m visible to everyone. I’m not sure if they’re looking or not, but if they are, they can see my panties. My wet panties. And not that I can help it, but my scent is everywhere too.

Tyrant presses against the cut on my leg and then removes his hand. He rubs his fingers against his palm, smearing my blood everywhere.

My inner thigh pulses. I feel blood escaping. I try not to think about it because blood makes me want to pass out.

Tyrant takes his hand and rubs his palm against his mouth. His lips, chin, and even the tip of his nose has some blood on it. He looks even more menacing and scary.

He touches the cut again, squeezing a little. More blood on his hand. He reaches for me.

Oh… fuck…

I feel dizzy all of a sudden. It doesn’t matter. Tyrant has this damn power over me. I don’t know how to explain it because it’s something I've never felt before.

The palm of his hand touches my mouth. Offering me my own blood. I don’t know what to do so I just remain still.

His hand runs down my chin to my throat and then the back of my neck. He pulls me in and our bloody lips touch. His mouth opens, tongue licking my blood and then thrusting into my mouth.

I match the intensity of his kiss. His left hand touches between my legs, pressing against my panties. I cry out into his mouth, I can’t help it.

His fingers are eager and peel my panties away from my soaked pussy. Two fingers enter me and I cry out again. Deep and twisting, commanding my pleasure and orgasm. Forceful and angry. Demanding and greedy. All the while my arms are still being held by two others.

My hips buck and I groan. I don’t give a fuck who’s watching. Let them watch. Let them enjoy the sights and sounds. My body wants this. Craves this. Needs this.

Tyrant and I kiss harder. I taste the warm of his mouth and the iron flavor of the blood from my inner thigh. I’m absolutely terrified yet here I am in the midst of this barbaric, erotic thing .

Tyrant pulls his mouth from mine and growls at me.

“Now, claimed one . Now!”

His voice booms like thunder. I scream and trust my hips. His fingers plow deeper into my pussy. His thumb plants itself firmly against my clit. And I’m done.

My head falls back and I moan. A hand touches my forehead and I see the gold mask man appear once again.

“Claimed,” he announces.

With that said, those holding my arms lets go. Tyrant rips his fingers from my pussy. I all but collapse down to the floor, where Tyrant scoops me up into his arms.

He stands up, cradling me. I put my arms around his neck and look up at him. My body aches and pulses. I think I’m orgasming. Or maybe I’m not.

Tyrant carries me from this gothic, evil room into another room. There’s a high table against the wall, topped with a thick comforter. Everything is either black or dark wine red.

When Tyrant places me down on the table, the comforter is soft and soothing. There are roses near my head. Candles lit all around me. It feels like… like a funeral. Or a viewing for someone who has died.

“It’s okay, Sera,” Tyrant says. “Now you get to rest.” He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small vial of liquid. “You know what this is. You know what it does. Drink it and I will see you tomorrow, okay? And while you’re resting, nothing bad will happen to you.”

He takes the cap off the vial and presents it to my lips. I drink the liquid. It’s warm from being in his pocket. I feel the liquid in my throat and then my stomach.

Tyrant moves his attention down my body and lifts up my pink dress. I feel his fingertips between my legs, pulling my panties to the side once more. I stare down and watch as he lowers his mouth down to my pussy.

His lips kiss mine. His tongue slaps against my tender clit. My body jumps and I groan. The pleasure instantly explodes and mounts. The rest of my body is gooey and begins to fade.

I feel myself starting to smile. I’m about to pass out from the GHB and at the same time I’m about to orgasm from Tyrant’s greedy tongue between my legs.

Darkness takes me as I feel a warm gush release from between my legs. I hear Tyrant’s tongue and mouth tasting me. Wet, sloppy kisses as everything around me fades. Goes black.

Now… I feel… nothing…