Page 142 of Every Shade of Shadow

Blotches of distant color ring around the blackness as the entire contraption seems to shift on the cobblestone. The Professor bucks forward yet harder, throwing obscenities at me, spitting at my body as he grunts and bellows into my pale form. The sounds from his relentless pounding are almost as loud as my moans, his hefty balls hitting my crotch in rhythm.

The surroundings leave me. The guillotine evaporates and it is only Damien and me, what we have shared and experienced so far, this terrible gift he has given me.

As I dream, the Professor’s fingers continue to circle my clit with relentless precision. He flicks at it, triggering a thunderbolt of pleasure that tips my senses towards abandon.

He speaks as he fucks me. “Can you feel it, little lamb, me, fucking your villainous body? Are you ready to come, or should I drop the blade, see that pretty head of yours on the floor?”

He shifts position, leaning back and angling his cock upwards against the sensitive roof of my pussy.

I cannot help the feelings that rush through me. Death is all around me, yet it only brings me closer to life, to the shadows. I am energized, a creature of pure sensation as the Professor fucks me in short, sharp strokes, grunting like an animal. I envision the large muscles all over his back, twisting and flexing while he claims my body.

My pussy swells around his shaft, my legs butter as he fucks against the wet gash between my legs. He rocks forward and strokes my breasts, pinching a nipple between his fingers, lowering his head to take it between his teeth as his cock rides low in my pelvis.

Sweat trickles from my brow, gathering under the lunette. My body sags limply as I let him use me, my back wet against the rough textures below.

He pulls from my body and staggers to the front of the guillotine. His member stands proud, a scepter shining slick in the firelight with my arousal stained upon it.

The blade above is blackened out as he stands over my face, pressing his cock downwards against my lips.

“Open them,” he commands.

I do, letting him slide his member into my mouth. I take his thick cock willingly. I kiss the middle of his shaft, and he pushes further down, his cock gliding along my tongue and into my throat. I gag, my eyes watering for a moment, but I retain composure, letting my throat adjust to his girth.

He pulls back when I start to choke. He squats over my face, sinking his balls into my mouth so that I take each in alternate, sucking on the delicate fruit and running my tongue along the thin seam that divides his sack. But it’s not enough. He presses the tip of his cock downwards again, painting my lips with the glistening tip.

I taste him, the salt, the musk, the strange spices unlike any I’ve known or been privy to before.

I open my mouth, an invitation, and he drives into it again, presses my neck awkwardly against the bottom of the lunette with every frenzied thrust. I flick my tongue over the body of his cock, sweep it over his glans until his groans of approval are ringing in my ears.

There is power in this too, in this simple act of fellatio. A rapturous glow falls over me and I ask him, aloud, “please.”

His cock pops free again, a precarious bridge of spittle between my lips and the swollen bulb of his prick. It glimmers in the firelight like a dewy spider’s web.

Everything stills.

He stands and disappears from sight.

The guillotine lurches and I shake again, fearful at any moment the blade will plunge downwards, ending me.

My thighs are gripped as he lifts my legs over his shoulders and rocks forward, plunging so hard and deep into my waiting hole that it shocks the air from my chest in a ragged gasp. I wheeze and suck in another breath, every inch of him stretching me out.

One, two strokes and I can take no more as the pressure on my clit refuses to relent. The fire sweeps through my body swiftly, consuming my mind.

I come, surrendering fully, my body and blood humming as a finely tuned instrument. The shadows fill and gather what remains, the power that follows immense.

I’m still in a hymn of ecstasy as the lunette is lifted from my neck. Vaguely, I feel Damien lifting me, turning my body over until I’m lying belly down on the bench, the lunette falling against the back of my neck.

Not again.

The Professor steps around me, his cock and the bundled muscle of his legs coming into view.

He spits between my ass cheeks, screwing his thumb into my ass while his cock rushes inside me.

He holds the release lever, using it as leverage to ram into me harder. There’s no tenderness in his touch as he rakes my back with his free hand. He’s confident and strong, working into me with deep, long, masterful strokes.

I press back against him, hands against the lunette as I try to lift myself upwards and rock him deep into my body.

He slides his cock all the way out to the tight ring of my pussy, plunging back into the wet fire beyond. All the while, his thumb moves deeper into my ass.

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