The Feast
Page 7
“I won’t fight you,” you mutter, not daring to look past the stranger at Jasper. You feel disgusted, ashamed with yourself for what he is about to witness.
The stranger throws you back hard against the ground and gets on top of you. He pushes down his pants impatiently and shoves himself inside you. You try not to think of Jasper lying just feet away, witness to your defilement.
“You’re fucking soaking,” the stranger growls.
Though you know you’re only wet from the fun you were having with Jasper, you’re still ashamed to feel your juices so eagerly coating this brute’s cock. There is a sticky, lewd slap every time his balls hit against you.
The man’s hand clamped over your mouth does little to muffle your sobs. You know that Jasper can hear you even if he is not watching. You fight back the urge to scream and keep your eyes closed tight, pretending that the man on top of you is not who it is, that the rising pleasure in your body is not because you are being taken advantage of by some stranger in on a dark street.
Jasper moans your name. You try to shut it out.
“Mmmm, that’s a girl,” the stranger taunts you as you feel your body start to clench. His breathing in your ear is making your whole face feel hot. His deep grunts are nothing like Jasper’s soft moans. His beard scratches your cheek, and his hands are too rough. Still, you can feel yourself coming.
The stranger lets out a choked grunt and pulls out, scrambling to paint your face with his cum. Sobbing, you can taste his unwanted seed dribbling into your mouth, the evidence of his deed all over you.
You lie there dazed as the stranger gets up and leaves you. You wish you could just disappear, but Jasper is hurt and you have to get cleaned up if you still want to go to the feast. You crawl slowly over to him.
“I failed you,” he wheezes.
He sits up wincing and takes a handkerchief from his pocket. He carefully wipes the cum from your face.
You ask if he’s okay.
He nods. “I’m using what strength I have to heal myself. I’ll be fine once I reach the castle.”
You notice he hasn’t included you in his plan.
“I can take you back to the hideout. The boss will look after you. I can’t ask you to come along with me, after all that’s… happened.”
He starts to get up and you help him to his feet. He doesn’t look fine at all, though the blood on his temple has disappeared and the cut seems to be closing.
“I still want to go,” you tell him. You don’t want to be apart from Jasper. Not tonight.
To the feast.
As you near the castle you hear horse’s hooves and the clatter of coach wheels, then the cheerful voices of the arriving guests. The castle courtyard is bathed in light streaming out from the hall, illuminating the king’s grand and varied guests. A centaur trots past you, nodding as he does so.
“Invitation?” the guard asks you. Jasper hands him a pair of envelopes and he welcomes you inside.
The great hall is already lively with celebration. The long dining tables are packed with guests, while more congregate in standing groups under colorful floating lanterns. The castle’s serving staff weaves among the tables pouring wine and refilling platters of food.
Jasper squeezes your arm. “I need to make a quick sweep of the place first. I’ll be back in a minute. I promise.” He kisses you on the cheek and leaves you standing by yourself unsure of what to do.
But you are not alone for long. A gorgeous man in a perfectly fitted suit comes to introduce himself.
“Prince Sy of Ollvyn,” he says bowing and kissing your hand. His blue eyes sparkle under a swath of curly dark hair. “I don’t believe I’ve seen you before.”
“I’m no one special,” you say, wishing Jasper had given you instructions or at least a false name.
The prince laughs. “It’s fine to be coy, but I don’t care who you are. I’ve made both queens and serving girls beg for mercy just the same.”
He bites his lip suggestively and you believe his words are true.
“There’s a private party upstairs,” he says quietly, moving closer to you. He smells of shaving soap and rumpled sheets. “I’m an intimate friend of the person in charge, and it’s only for those of us who deserve something better than all this.” He glances around the hall looking bored.
You look around the hall too, but in search of Jasper. The rogue is nowhere to be seen. He told you he would only be gone a minute.
The prince waits for your response.
Go to the private party.
Stay in the great hall.
“I won’t fight you,” you mutter, not daring to look past the stranger at Jasper. You feel disgusted, ashamed with yourself for what he is about to witness.
The stranger throws you back hard against the ground and gets on top of you. He pushes down his pants impatiently and shoves himself inside you. You try not to think of Jasper lying just feet away, witness to your defilement.
“You’re fucking soaking,” the stranger growls.
Though you know you’re only wet from the fun you were having with Jasper, you’re still ashamed to feel your juices so eagerly coating this brute’s cock. There is a sticky, lewd slap every time his balls hit against you.
The man’s hand clamped over your mouth does little to muffle your sobs. You know that Jasper can hear you even if he is not watching. You fight back the urge to scream and keep your eyes closed tight, pretending that the man on top of you is not who it is, that the rising pleasure in your body is not because you are being taken advantage of by some stranger in on a dark street.
Jasper moans your name. You try to shut it out.
“Mmmm, that’s a girl,” the stranger taunts you as you feel your body start to clench. His breathing in your ear is making your whole face feel hot. His deep grunts are nothing like Jasper’s soft moans. His beard scratches your cheek, and his hands are too rough. Still, you can feel yourself coming.
The stranger lets out a choked grunt and pulls out, scrambling to paint your face with his cum. Sobbing, you can taste his unwanted seed dribbling into your mouth, the evidence of his deed all over you.
You lie there dazed as the stranger gets up and leaves you. You wish you could just disappear, but Jasper is hurt and you have to get cleaned up if you still want to go to the feast. You crawl slowly over to him.
“I failed you,” he wheezes.
He sits up wincing and takes a handkerchief from his pocket. He carefully wipes the cum from your face.
You ask if he’s okay.
He nods. “I’m using what strength I have to heal myself. I’ll be fine once I reach the castle.”
You notice he hasn’t included you in his plan.
“I can take you back to the hideout. The boss will look after you. I can’t ask you to come along with me, after all that’s… happened.”
He starts to get up and you help him to his feet. He doesn’t look fine at all, though the blood on his temple has disappeared and the cut seems to be closing.
“I still want to go,” you tell him. You don’t want to be apart from Jasper. Not tonight.
To the feast.
As you near the castle you hear horse’s hooves and the clatter of coach wheels, then the cheerful voices of the arriving guests. The castle courtyard is bathed in light streaming out from the hall, illuminating the king’s grand and varied guests. A centaur trots past you, nodding as he does so. So far there is no sign of the creatures.
“Invitation?” the guard asks you. Jasper hands him a pair of envelopes and he welcomes you inside.
As you pass through the entryway there is a commotion behind you. The guards are furiously trying to block the entrance while onlookers watch in mixed horror and disgust.
“Please let me in! I have an invitation! The king is expecting me!” Through a break in the crowd you see a horribly disfigured woman being driven back by the points of the guards’ swords. There is a large, writ
hing lump on her back with protrusions that wrap around to the front of her body. The guards poke at one of the protrusions and it extends towards them, then the whole lump detaches. You realize that it wasn’t a disfigurement at all but a separate entity. The creature looks like a mix between a spider and a goblin, humanoid in shape but with too many limbs. It challenges the guards with a hiss.
A third guard hurries towards them from the hall. He starts to close the doors.
“What are you doing?” one of the door guards asks.
“The king said to close the doors. No more guests. We can’t risk any more of the creatures getting in.”
The woman continues to plead to be let in even as the doors close on her. A final few other guests manage to slip in at the last moment, including the spider-goblin whom no one seems to notice. You feel sick to your stomach.
“It’s a good thing we got here when we did,” Jasper whispers.
The great hall is a little emptier than you would have expected, no doubt due to the king’s decision to close the doors early. Even so, the vast tables are lively with food, drink, and fine nobles being boisterous as fits a celebration such as this.
Jasper squeezes your arm. “I need to make a quick sweep of the place first. I’ll be back in a minute. I promise.” He kisses you on the cheek and leaves you standing by yourself unsure of what to do.
But you are not alone for long. A gorgeous man in a perfectly fitted suit comes to introduce himself.
“Prince Sy of Ollvyn,” he says bowing and kissing your hand. His blue eyes sparkle under a swath of curly dark hair. “I don’t believe I’ve seen you before.”
“I’m no one special,” you say, wishing Jasper had given you instructions or at least a false name.
The prince laughs. “It’s fine to be coy, but I don’t care who you are. I’ve made both queens and serving girls beg for mercy just the same.”
He bites his lip suggestively and you believe his words are true.
“There’s a private party upstairs,” he says quietly, moving closer to you. He smells of shaving soap and rumpled sheets. “I’m an intimate friend of the person in charge, and it’s only for those of us who deserve something better than all this.” He glances around the hall looking bored.
You look around the hall too, but in search of Jasper. The rogue is nowhere to be seen. He told you he would only be gone a minute.
The prince waits for your response.
Go to the private party.
Stay in the great hall.
“I won’t fight you,” you mutter, not daring to look at Jasper. You feel disgusted and ashamed with yourself for crumbling so easily.
The stranger throws you hard against the ground and gets on top of you. He pushes down his pants impatiently and shoves himself inside you. You try not to think of Jasper lying just feet away, witness to your defilement.
“You’re fucking soaking,” the stranger growls.
He’s right, but you don’t know why. Were you aroused before or after the man attacked you? You’re ashamed to feel your juices so eagerly coating this brute’s cock. There is a sticky, lewd slap every time his balls hit against you.
The man’s hand clamped over your mouth does little to muffle your sobs. You know that Jasper can hear you even if he is not watching. You fight back the urge to scream and keep your eyes closed tight, pretending that the man on top of you is not who it is, that the rising pleasure in your body is not because you are being taken advantage of by some stranger on a dark street.
Jasper moans your name. You try to shut it out.
“Mmmm, that’s a girl,” the stranger taunts you as you feel your body start to clench. His breathing in your ear is making your whole face feel hot. His deep grunts are nothing like Jasper’s soft voice. His beard scratches your cheek, and his hands are too rough. Still, you can feel yourself coming.
The stranger lets out a choked grunt and pulls out, scrambling to paint your face with his cum. Sobbing, you can taste his unwanted seed dribbling into your mouth, the evidence of his deed all over you.
You lie there dazed as the stranger gets up and leaves you. You wish you could just disappear, but Jasper is hurt and you have to get cleaned up if you still want to go to the feast. You crawl slowly over to him.
“I should have protected you,” he says.
He sits up wincing and takes a handkerchief from his pocket. He carefully wipes the cum from your face.
You ask if he’s okay.
He nods. “I’m using what strength I have to heal myself. I’ll be fine once I reach the castle.”
You notice he hasn’t included you in his plan.
“I can take you back to the hideout. The boss will look after you. I can’t ask you to come along with me, after all that’s… happened.”
He starts to get up and you help him to his feet. He doesn’t look fine at all, though the blood on his temple has disappeared and the cut seems to be closing.
“I still want to go,” you tell him. You made a promise to fight the Order. You want to prove to Jasper that you’re strong enough to be by his side.
To the feast.
As you near the castle you hear horse’s hooves and the clatter of coach wheels, then the cheerful voices of the arriving guests. The castle courtyard is bathed in light streaming out from the hall, illuminating the king’s grand and varied guests. A centaur trots past you, nodding as he does so.
“Invitation?” the guard asks you. Jasper hands him a pair of envelopes and he welcomes you inside.
The great hall is already lively with celebration. The long dining tables are packed with guests, while more congregate in standing groups under colorful floating lanterns. The castle’s serving staff weaves among the tables pouring wine and refilling platters of food.
Jasper squeezes your arm. “I need to make a quick sweep of the place first. I’ll be back in a minute. I promise.” He leaves you standing by yourself unsure of what to do.
But you are not alone for long. A gorgeous man in a perfectly fitted suit comes to introduce himself.
“Prince Sy of Ollvyn,” he says bowing and kissing your hand. His blue eyes sparkle under a swath of curly dark hair. “I don’t believe I’ve seen you before.”
“I’m no one special,” you say, wishing Jasper had given you clearer instructions or at least a false name.
The prince laughs. “It’s fine to be coy, but I don’t care who you are. I’ve made both queens and serving girls beg for mercy just the same.”
He bites his lip suggestively and you believe his words are true.
“There’s a private party upstairs,” he says quietly, moving closer to you. He smells of shaving soap and rumpled sheets. “I’m an intimate friend of the person in charge, and it’s only for those of us who deserve something better than all this.” He glances around the hall looking bored.
You look around the hall too, but in search of Jasper. The rogue is nowhere to be seen. He told you he would only be gone a minute.
The prince waits for your response.
Go to the private party.
Stay in the great hall.
“I won’t fight you,” you mutter, not daring to look at Jasper. You feel disgusted and ashamed with yourself for crumbling so easily.
The stranger throws you hard against the ground and gets on top of you. He pushes down his pants impatiently and shoves himself inside you. You try not to think of Jasper lying just feet away, witness to your defilement.
“You’re fucking soaking,” the stranger growls.
He’s right, but you don’t know why. Were you aroused before or after the man attacked you? You’re ashamed to feel your juices so eagerly coating this brute’s cock. There is a sticky, lewd slap every time his balls hit against you.
The man’s hand clamped over your mouth does little to muffle your sobs. You know that Jasper can hear you even if he is not watching. You fight back the urge to scream and keep your eyes cl
osed tight, pretending that the man on top of you is not who it is, that the rising pleasure in your body is not because you are being taken advantage of by some stranger on a dark street.
Jasper moans your name. You try to shut it out.
“Mmmm, that’s a girl,” the stranger taunts you as you feel your body start to clench. His breathing in your ear is making your whole face feel hot. His deep grunts are nothing like Jasper’s soft voice. His beard scratches your cheek, and his hands are too rough. Still, you can feel yourself coming.
The stranger lets out a choked grunt and pulls out, scrambling to paint your face with his cum. Sobbing, you can taste his unwanted seed dribbling into your mouth, the evidence of his deed all over you.
You lie there dazed as the stranger gets up and leaves you. You wish you could just disappear, but Jasper is hurt and you have to get cleaned up if you still want to go to the feast. You crawl slowly over to him.
“I should have protected you,” he says.
He sits up wincing and takes a handkerchief from his pocket. He carefully wipes the cum from your face.
You ask if he’s okay.
He nods. “I’m using what strength I have to heal myself. I’ll be fine once I reach the castle.”
You notice he hasn’t included you in his plan.
“I can take you back to the hideout. The boss will look after you. I can’t ask you to come along with me, after all that’s… happened.”
He starts to get up and you help him to his feet. He doesn’t look fine at all, though the blood on his temple has disappeared and the cut seems to be closing.
“I still want to go,” you tell him. You made a promise to fight the Order. You want to prove to Jasper that you’re strong enough to be by his side.