Page 10 of Anorthic Anarchy

Chloe’s hips jut into the air while Lydia does as she’s told. As the two girls lock eyes, something exchanges between them. Slipping out of Yasmina, I slide into Lydia’s now sopping folds, and she grunts at the intrusion. “Keep licking her clit and flick it. Chloe likes that. And you’ll love to do that for her, too. Look how wet you are. I bet you didn’t even know you loved eating pussy this much, did you?”

As Chloe’s thighs clench around Lydia’s head, she raises her chest in a scream, releasing her orgasm. It’s a true one this time, and at the sound, Lydia’s inner muscles collapse around my dick in a tight squeeze. Sliding out quickly, I say, “No. Not yet. Tell me you love eating pussy. Are you my lesbian girlfriend now, Lydia?”

Maddening whines rip from her lips as she mumbles between Chloe’s legs. Smacking her with the paddle again, I urge her on. “Say it. Are you my lesbian girlfriend now?”

Snatching a handful of her short brown hair, I pull her head back and she gasps, then loudly says, “Yes! Yes, I’m a lesbian.”I thrust inside her again, and she comes all over my cock with howls of ecstasy, bouncing off my abs and leaving a trail of her juices running down them as she does. I grip her hips to hold her to me, gaining some satisfaction in breaking her down.

“Good girl.” With another firm swat, I continue. “Good fucking girl… Yes. Now you’ll munch cunt all the time. You’ll do it for your master and love it.”

Once they’ve had theirs, I move back to Yasmina, who doesn’t take long to erupt on me as I gaze into her eyes. She likes that, the connection she thinks we have. She needs it. And I’ll give it to her as a reward for her true submission.

A flash of the angel in the cell below enters my mind. Her staring at my shoes. Those big blue eyes and the smell of her innocence ripe for corruption. The snake venom running through her veins and me about to drain it when I fill her womb with my life force. How tight her young pussy will be when I ruin it and the shrieks that’ll tear from her lungs as I do.

My spine tingles with impending release until I slide out of Yasmina and head to my table, purposefully shifting my mind from the Barrington in the cell below us. Squatting over Ceylon, I place my balls onto her head, then spray myself all over her back. She doesn’t move an inch.

It’s not even so much pleasure anymore. In fact, I can’t remember the last time I felt good. All I try to do is to keep the rage from returning.

I clap my hands together and issue my instructions. “Everyone out. Ceylon, you’re to find your collar and no washing that off until you do.” Tossing her dyed blue hair off her shoulders, she scurries out of the bedroom with droplets of sadness painting her pretty, dark cheeks.

As the harem leaves and flings the door open, that unrelenting vision from twenty years ago floods my mind. Me, atseventeen. My dead mother still warming my cock and my father strolling out of the room as if nothing happened.

That was when I decided to implement the plan I’d carefully developed since the age of fourteen. Vladimir Strauss was a monster to me and my mother, who became more than that when I was around that age. It would take strategy and time to garner support from my father’s men. Their loyalty was based on fear of his position, but I knew I’d gained their trust by the summer before I came of age. All of them promised to back me in my play for consort.

Waking up without my mother’s warmth spreading over my chest is a pain I never knew I’d miss until it wasn’t there. She’d slept with me every night for over a year. The only comfort and pleasure I knew in life came from her. Until he took her from me.

And now, it’s my eighteenth birthday.

“Master, the guards are ready if you are.”

Taking a deep inhale, a genuine smile parts my lips as I sit up in bed. This is what I have been waiting for.

Sweet, glorious revenge.

It will be his fall from grace into the pits of Hell where he belongs, as well as my rise to victory and the Glory thereafter. His men take orders from me now. And, as one, we march into his office building downtown.

One of the big guys kicks in the door where my father sits at the head of his conference table surrounded by the last of his followers. Grabbing Helen by the hand, I tug the woman behind me as she sobs with fear. “Please, Vincente. Don’t. Please. Your father…”

“What is the meaning of this?” He stands, the outrage bellowing from his gut like the brays of a donkey.

We move as a stampede against the runners, rushing them with scorn and fury. The men grab each other. Guns shoot.Throats are slit. Blood gushes from orifices. Yells and moans sound violently through the air, and the smell of death and destruction makes me surge with the power in my possession.

Two of my guards hold my father back as he yells and tries to shove them off, but no one will save him. Not anymore. I pull Helen forward, then bend her over the table, and his jaw drops with disgust. My palms itch as I slide her gray skirt up, exposing her bare ass, then pull out my cock, slapping it on her now loose asshole. I let the guards have their way with her just before carting her here.

“You thought you were the only one? Seems we share a lot of women, father.” And I thrust inside her closed ring as she screams in agony. “All those years, you thought she loved you back…she was also fucking your son. Even said my dick was better.” Snatching her hair, I hold her head up so his favorite mistress can scream louder. “Don’t you think so, doll?”

“Please, stop, Vincente! Please!” she pleads.

“Vincente, don’t do this.”

There’s no stopping now. “She got pregnant with my child, not yours, Dad. This…this thing you killed the love of my life for. And now, you’ll get to watch this bitch die.”

Swiftly, I pull my knife from my pocket and puncture her carotid on one side. Enjoying every moment, I slice across her throat in a sluggishly smooth movement so she feels every bit of it.Her shrill shrieks turn to gargling moans as a crimson wave surges from her neck, the warmth hitting my fingers in tickling sprays. An iron tinge floods the air as well as my tongue when it splashes back from my skin. As she finally gives up her life, she struggles so violently, her asshole chokes my cock until I come hard with a yell that matches my father’s. His is a bawl of loss.

Mine waves in the air like a flag of conquest.

I pull out of the dead whore and zip up before approaching the consort. Gripping the back of his head, I place my forehead to his, our noses meeting tip to tip.

His panicked voice shakes as he pleads with me. “Vincente, Son, no. You don’t know what you’re doing.”

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