Page 55 of Tyrant

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, disregardingany 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-likeroom.

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 insome horror movie. “He’s going to continue the ceremony. Your blood will be his.”

Wait a fucking second… blood?

I’m driven downto 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.

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