Total pages in book: 67
Estimated words: 62820 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 314(@200wpm)___ 251(@250wpm)___ 209(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 62820 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 314(@200wpm)___ 251(@250wpm)___ 209(@300wpm)
18
Fallon
“There she is,” one of the Elders said, a fat man with a shiny bald head. His stomach made the robe paunch out in the middle like a medieval friar’s, except that he had the bottom half bunched and held back by his belt to expose his flaccid penis that slowly hardened again at the sight of me.
A lascivious smile lit his face as he made his way across the small white ballroom to where Rafe and I entered the room, men and naked women parting before us like the red sea.
The Elder began to stroke his fat little cock, rapidly and rough, like a boy just learning how to masturbate. “Get her over here, Initiate. I want to squeeze those little titties as I ass-fuck her.”
More men gathered at the Elder’s side, obvious interest on their faces. More hands went to cocks. One of them grabbed a woman being fucked by another Elder, presumably a lesser one, and forced her to her knees in front of his hard dick.
She yelped a little in surprise, but the noise was quickly cut off by the Elder, a man in his fifties maybe, with salt and pepper hair.
With a startled shock, I realized I recognized him. It was Rafe’s friend Walker St. Claire’s father. He was a politician. And apparently at ease in this setting, because he wasted no time authoritatively shoving his cock into the woman’s mouth and down her throat.
Her eyes bugged out at first as she choked a little around him. Unlike his short, fat-cocked friar friend, he was well-endowed, and she struggled to take him.
“You,” Mr. St. Claire snapped to another girl. “Get in here. Suck on my balls and you.” Another snap. Another girl—oh shit, it was Beau’s girl, the other Belle. She looked wide-eyed as a deer in headlights as Mr. St. Claire snapped at her again when she didn’t immediately move.
“Massage my prostate. Make me come like a racehorse,” he barked at her.
When she was slow to obey, looking at Beau as if for instruction, Mr. St. Claire barked, “Now! I gave you a fucking instruction, girl. That’s a white collar around your fucking neck so get your fingers up my ass before I decide to fuck yours and show you what a real man feels like!”
Beau didn’t seem to take offense or really much notice at all. His belle had on a white collar just like I did.
Had she been fucked already by one of these men? How many times? By how many men? And Beau had just stood there and let it happen?
But... wasn’t that what I was asking Rafe to do? So why did the thought of Beau just letting this happen to his belle piss me off?
I looked to the ceiling and the glittering chandelier as the wet sounds of the women slurping at Mr. St. Claire’s cock and balls echoed around the room.
“Jesus, I didn’t say shove your fingers up my ass,” Mr. St. Claire roared, turning so violently he yanked his cock away from the other womens’ servicing mouths. “I said massage my prostate.”
The Bambi-eyed belle, Abby, I think her name was if I remembered right, just blinked up in shock and what looked a little like fear. Then Mr. St. Claire rolled his eyes. “Jesus Christ, Beau, maybe teach your belle some of the fucking basics of pleasuring a man. Uma, get back there and show her where a man’s fucking prostate is.”
Mr. St. Claire glared at Beau. “Consider this a fucking favor.”
Beau just gave a mild, uninterested smirk, and raised his bourbon glass in toast. He barely seemed to register what was going on around him, like he didn’t even care if he was here, and certainly barely gave a shit about what was happening to his belle. Montgomery stood beside him, his back to the naked debauchery playing out behind him.
But I didn’t have any more time to take in the drama across the room, because the fat friar had made his way to me.
“Oooo, she’s a ripe one, isn’t she?” A slug-like tongue slipped out of the man’s mouth and slicked his lip as he reached out a hand for my breast. His other hand was still on his cock, pumping away, the fat little purple head peeking out from the end of his fisted hand every other second.
I couldn’t help taking a step backwards in revulsion.
But I just bumped into a different man, my ass grazing against another hard cock. It was like at a club, where a man comes up behind you and starts to grind against you—except we were both naked and his hands immediately came to my waist, running down my sides until he reached my ass cheeks, which he squeezed hard. He rammed his cock between my ass cheeks, clutching onto them and fucking his cock up and down the fleshy channel he made with my ass.