Authors: Willow Sears
He clicked his fingers and another girl was instantly there, handing him a small copper beaker. He put it to Mimi’s lips and made her drink. She swallowed with difficulty due to the constriction of her neck. The thick, sweet liquid burned all the way down her throat and into her belly. As soon as it hit her stomach the burst of heat went through her. It was like fire sweeping her insides. She could feel her nipples engorging, the hot blood racing to fill them. They grew alarmingly, way more than ever before. She looked down and could see them poking out through her top, begging for his attention.
Then it was her clit, also filling and swelling with burning blood, expanding like it might burst. It felt huge, way beyond the physically possible. Normally such a little bud, it now felt fat and throbbing, thumb-sized, as big as a cock even, filling and growing and stretching out to him. If one had pricked it now to take a single drop of blood, it would have spurted a half-pint or more. She tried to look down past her chest to her groin but the neck cuff wouldn’t allow it. The heat in her belly began to pass but the swelling burn in her tits and clitty just wouldn’t go.
It was almost impossible to concentrate on what was going on behind her. However gruesome, it clearly wasn’t fazing the group of girls watching it, judging from their noises. They were in awe of it, delighted by it. It sounded like they were masturbating to it. The captive’s cries had faded away so maybe she had too. Mimi knew Morgana was a witch but surely such grotesque acts were beyond a woman of her beauty? A bucket was brought in by a girl and set on the floor at Mimi’s feet. It was nearly full of dark-red liquid. It looked too pure to be blood, too perfect, more like fine claret, but then she had never seen a whole bucket of blood before. Morgana came into the cage and the horn was smeared red. The deed had been done and now it was to be Mimi’s turn.
The witch was behind Mimi, while he was still so close at her front. Others were in the cage too, girls dropping to their knees at his feet. He stooped a little and grasped Mimi behind her thighs, then lifted her legs up and held her. Above her head the witch was undoing a wrist cuff, freeing one arm. Mimi felt the greater pressure at her throat and instinctively grasped around the back of his neck for support. Her other hand was freed and she grasped him with that too, locking her fingers behind his neck and gripping his waist with her thighs. If she let go she would be left hanging, only a couple of inches off the floor, but enough to finish her.
The girls at her feet knew what to do. She was transfixed by his cold stare but she could feel them at work below. They were employing the same mechanical pump as he had used to give the enemas, and the contents of the bucket were being sucked up the tube. She squealed into his face as her quim was invaded by the long nozzle and a jet of the liquid doused her insides. It was still warm. It filled her and then started to ooze out. It felt slippery, surely too much so for blood. It was not like the stickiness of the gore she had felt between her thighs in times gone by. There was not that same accompanying iron-like smell, just a faint fruity scent.
The sluicing liquid had bloated her insides but now most of it was dribbling down her inner thighs. She was clinging onto him and even though she had seen the frightening proportions of his hard prick she was willing it to grow again and fill her void. The girls below were obviously of the same mind. She could feel their hands at work on herself and him, her pussy lips being spread open and his prick manhandled to get it inside her. He was still soft, flaccid after his last ejaculation, but they were feeding his meat inside her anyway and she was so slippery from her sluicing that she was taking him.
She could sense the invasion but the lubrication inside her was so copious that she could barely feel his prick. It was definitely in there, and the girls were ensuring it didn’t slip back out. In such a position, so open and unable to prevent any entry, it was something of a disappointment to have only this harmless soft sausage crammed up between her lips. His finger would have been bigger. He just smiled down on her as if savouring her desolation.
‘Drink!’ he said.
Mimi didn’t know what he meant but the bacchantes did. A small beaker was offered up for him to drink from. He gulped the contents, shuddering as it went down. It might well have been the same burning concoction Mimi had swallowed, the one that still had her nipples and clitty engorged and burning hot. He let out a throaty gasp. He snarled and then snaked his tongue out to lick her from chin to nose, an invasive animal act that set Mimi’s nerves jangling. She had no time to dwell on it. As his snarls continued she could feel him growing slowly inside her, the prick filling and lengthening. He held her tight to him, his huge hands gripping her squashy bum, his forehead resting upon her crown so that she could feel his heavy breaths. On the cock went, growing larger, pushing at her walls and squeezing out the liquid to bring his flesh into contact with her delicate insides.
She knew she was already smiling but the prick wasn’t finished. It expanded more, surging up towards her womb, stretching her open. It was both scary and supreme. She had never been this full and now she could gauge every millimetre of expansion within. It was glorious. She tried to grip him tighter with her thighs, hooking her ankles together behind his back to bring her into full contact with his groin, hoping to open herself ever wider and prevent him from splitting her in two. Her clit was pressed at last to his groin, a pleasure so great it made her wail. On the prick went until she thought it must be in her belly. It was stretching her too wide to allow any more liquid out and she could feel the heat of it inside.
She was spitted upon him. She clung to his neck and waist, trying to stop the pull at her throat that was draining the oxygen from her brain. He gripped her arse harder and started to lift her, sliding her up the length of his shaft and then easing her back down. She used her thigh muscles to help him so that between them they began to form a rhythm. She had her face pressed to his chest and she could hear the rapid beat of his heart. She felt safe. He might have had the eyes and the prick of the Devil but she wasn’t scared. He wouldn’t drop her to be strangled, and if he did then so be it.
As her muscles grew used to his proportions she began to move more freely, gripping his sides with her knees so that she could push herself up almost to the end of his length before sliding back down. Her head was spinning from the joy and the lack of air but her senses felt electric. She could see the red smears all over her legs and on his sides where it had rubbed off onto him. It was viscous like blood but this didn’t daunt her. Her conscience might have bewailed the speed with which she had warmed to this beastly act but she couldn’t stop herself now. She wanted to bathe his cock in it, more than anything. A sudden slap caught her unawares, the pain sharp in her left buttock. The thrill of it sent out another gush to soak his balls. He had spanked her. His hand was back on her bottom immediately, grasping the chastened flesh and helping to ease the sting. Then the other cheek got a taste of the same. His hand came off it then dealt a lightning-fast slap and gripped it again, to keep her weight held up.
On he went like this, with her riding him, hanging on for dear life as the rapture spilled through her body, the feel of his iron-stiff cock and the sting of his slaps giving almost equal pleasure. Then she felt something else at her behind. It took her a while to realise what it was but then the image was in her head. It was Morgana. Again she had forgotten the witch and she felt a terrible guilt. She had unconsciously been aware of her all the time behind her, that big horn at her waist. The sweet smell of the witch had brought comfort as she was being opened up by his growing prick. Now there was potential danger from the same source. The witch was positioning the horn at Mimi’s undefended anus. The tip of it was pushing for entry. Surely Morgana wasn’t tall enough to drive it far enough inside, but then the witch seemed capable of anything.
Mimi couldn’t do anything other than accept her fate and carry on. The desire was far too powerful to stop. Instead of lifting herself up and down upon him she stopped and just held him tight, pressing her face to his chest to blank out all light. The witch’s horn was maybe an inch inside her, just the fingertip point up her bum, but it was ready to be driven home to pierce her as it had surely pierced the first captive. Her end was seemingly inevitable, brought about by the same woman who claimed to want her as a lover. Soon the bucket would be topped up by Mimi’s blood but still she wasn’t scared. She just prayed for a few more minutes of this utter bliss before they despatched her. Imagine those final few seconds, where her virgin bum was opened up even wider than her puss, the horn plunging into her and sending an uncontainable climax blasting through her body.
She was already coming. Almost unconscious from the lack of oxygen and the ongoing joy of penetration, her orgasm didn’t come as a massive jolt but as a wonderful warm tingling spread within. The prick was deep inside her, the horn still just an inch into her backside, which was still being spanked on alternate cheeks. She was almost crying out for the
coup de grâce
, the sensation was that great. How could anyone not give themselves over to this? She wanted to kiss him, for all his hardness and brutality, despite all his terrible misdeeds over the years. This was still the best moment of her life, even if it was to be her last.
She was vaguely aware of the neck cuff being untied and of the horn tip slipping from her bottom. She was almost sad not to have had it forced inside her. The Master was carrying her now, out of the cage. He placed her upon a platform, his prick still up inside her. She was spent, but of course he would need greater purchase to reach his own climax. He laid her like a rag doll upon her back and began immediately with his deep thrusts. Her eyes were screwed shut and the stars were flashing behind her lids. Her climax just couldn’t subside. His plunging prick kept sending waves of joy through her, jellifying her limbs, melting every cell. The feel of his huge body almost crushing her was magnificent. It should have been frightening but all she felt was cosseted and safe. She could
love
this man, even with his cold eyes and cold heart. If he was always pressed to her like this she would never feel scared again.
He gripped her buttocks to keep her in position as his thrusts grew harder. Her bottom was sore from his spanking but she welcomed the pain. Now that her head was clearing slightly she could picture herself beneath his frame, his prick going in and out of
her
, of all the people in the room. He wanted to finish inside her and everyone was watching. Just the idea of that made her peak once more. Morgana, for all her sorcery, couldn’t touch her under here. All those savage bitches who wanted to rip her apart just had to stand and gawp. Dominic, the double-crosser who wanted only pricks, would have to watch while she got the best of the lot.
‘Give me the
Demon’s Pleasure
,’ he was whispering to her, his voice gentle in her ear, their little secret, if only she knew what he meant by it. At that moment she would have given him
any
pleasure he asked for, even if it cost her everything. She held him tighter so that he knew she wanted to do it, but he would have to explain.
‘Tell me,’ she whispered back, wondering what romantic joy this living god was after.
‘Put your finger in me,’ he hissed.
She reached down to find his hard buttocks. His tone might have scared her on another day but not now. Now she was full of him, in every sense. He even understood her psyche. He realised that her most thrilling fantasy was to be made to do the rudest things whilst being watched, the ruder the better. There could be little dirtier than this. He was deep inside her so that she could reach his muscular backside. Looking up she could only see his wide chest. His behind was greased, as all his body was. She located his anus, running her tip around its hardness and feeling the slippery smear of lubricant.
She pushed on gently, knowing how it would feel if she was too quick. He started to grunt and she slid her way in, her finger defeating the minimal resistance. She went knuckle deep, ashamed and yet gushing with her rudeness. He growled as she jammed it further up him and then stirred it around, knowing this would stimulate his sensitive internal gland. He started to pump harder, cursing her as a bitch as she waggled her finger inside him and gave him his demon’s pleasure. It was pure filth, but she felt more connected with him than with any of her past lovers. Then his seed was suddenly shooting inside her, scorching its way to her centre, giving her one final sumptuous climax.
She lay basking in the warmth of her orgasms, glad that all present could see her slippery nakedness. She had survived. Morgana had lied. He wasn’t the tyrant she claimed. She had felt safer clinging to him than at any time in her life. She would never forget the bliss of his prick growing huge inside her. Through her blurred vision she could see the original captive being untied from the straps on the wall and helped down. She wasn’t dead either, far from it, judging by her smile of satisfaction. It had all been a performance to fool Mimi. Just the threat of having the horn driven into her bum had increased her orgasm tenfold. Maybe Shady wasn’t the cold-blooded sadist all took him for. Maybe the warmth she had felt for him was not misplaced.
He was standing now, his robe back in place. She felt proud to have had him inside her, especially in front of all these witnesses. She wanted to gloat about the fact he had chosen her above the rest.
‘As you all know, the day after tomorrow is the festival of
Rosalia
,’ he was announcing, and Mimi swelled at his magnificence. How could she have been so wrong about him?
‘We shall have another feast to celebrate,’ he said, ‘and to honour the occasion your Priestess will give herself to me, at last.’
There was a rising murmur among the crowd, all clearly surprised by this proclamation. Morgana herself looked stunned and stony-faced. Mimi couldn’t wait, although already she was jealous that the witch would be receiving his prick, which lessened the chance of a repeat of her evening’s rapture. Could she really fall for this man? Could she put aside her preconceptions now that she had felt him so close to her, felt his heart? His eyes were like ice but surely there could be no doubt that there was tenderness at his core? She would love him. He wanted her or he wouldn’t have chosen her. She would give herself to him and hopefully become paramount, maybe even usurp Morgana in his affections. Perhaps, come the next time, Mimi would again be the one he fucked in front of them all, not the witch.