by S. A. Parker
“Don’t worry, she can be trusted. Fuck knows she doesn’t want to lose her hands too, but if there’s a half sure way out of here, she’ll give it a go.”
We nod; my beast approves of this girl. I let said beast survey the carnage once more; she’s so damn proud of her work, before we sashay out of the room like we fucking own the show.
It’s only once we get back to the downstairs bathroom to wash and apply our makeup for the day that I rein my beast all the way in, and barely make it to the toilet in time to vomit up another wad of blood.
Fuck you, body. Pull it together. We have a job to do.
Chapter Six
I tuck the satchel of Dogwood down the front of my corset, along with a note Leila scribbled on a piece of parchment with a sliver of coal poised between her stumps, part of her own secret stash she had tucked away inside a mattress.
We make our way to the main sex hall and walk to the bar, where Kit is on duty again. With a slight nod to her I slip the satchel out from between my bulging boobs, then discreetly tuck it behind the bar, at the same time asking for a glass of water each for myself and Leila.
Tonight, when the customers have left, and after a signal from Leila, Kit will spike the guards’ after-hours drinks with enough dogwood that they each fall into a long, deep sleep.
With a knowing nod, Kit hands our drinks over, a ‘special’ water loaded with a concoction of vitamins that give us the energy required to last a day of fuckery. Kroe hates us going to work on a full stomach, doesn’t want us vomiting all over the customers during sex, so this was his way around that little hurdle.
After so many years my internal digestive system has gotten used to only expecting one meal a day, but I look forward to it because it’s always hot and relatively nourishing. The one pro of being a hoe.
We finish our water then make our way into position, along with all the other girls who’ve filed into the room, faces cleverly painted to make them appear rested.
“There she is …” Kroe’s voice booms down the stairs and I turn to see him reach the landing, then make a beeline for me and Leila standing by the ‘stage’.
He gets right up in my face, slipping his hand beneath my skimpy skirt and wrapping his palm around my right arse cheek. “I missed you last night, Cupcake. I had my cock plunged into this randy little hoe, but she just wasn’t as tight as you, you know? We have a thing, you and I.” He pinches my chin, tilting my head up so we’re matched, eye to eye as he kneads my arse. “I can’t wait to watch the men fuck you today. I love watching the cum dribble down your legs while you take cock after cock, trying to hide the fact that you fucking love it.”
The clock strikes ten and I fight the urge to vomit again. Hold it together body, you’re better than this.
The guards throw the front doors open and a herd of men flood the room, smoking cigars and prancing about like peacocks as they find somewhere to sit, observe, or fuck. Hunting their own targets in the crowd of red-skirted women.
“You’re mine tonight, Cupcake. Enjoy the foreplay.” Kroe saunters off into the crowd like he fucking owns the joint, which he does.
Leila gives me a hopeful, knowing look, and I allow a small smile in return, trying to appear brave, even though my insides are churning.
It doesn’t help that my vagina’s still missing in action, only showing up for one of my Gods. Not that I want them here right now, I don’t, because I can already tell today’s going to be savage. The men have a ravenous gleam in their eyes as my hands are again tied to the two giant schlong poles.
I consider letting my beast free for the day, letting her deal with it all … but no. I’m afraid she’ll chew someone else’s penis off and ruin the whole thing. Her ears perk up at the thought and she licks her chops. Savage bitch.
A swathe of white hair catches my eye as the clothing is pulled from my body. My heart does a little leap. Sol?
A tang of unsanctioned disappointment surges through me as I scan the swarming, drooling crowd, while someone lines themselves up behind me, right at my arsehole.
No, no … he’s not here. That’s a good thing, Dell.
It’s a good thing.
At some point I must have passed out hanging between these two erect schlongs. I’m not sure how long I’ve been out for, but when I come to, it’s dark outside …
Fuck.
I was going to wait until dusk to organise the camels, in case things went penis shaped during the day … fucking missed that boat didn’t I.
‘Aero, I need your help,’ I internally yell to my Dawn God who I hope is paying attention. Probably not, because he’s a super important God. ‘Please, please be listening. I need twenty camels fully loaded with enough food and water to make it across the desert, carrying a bunch of clothing that’s not fucking red, waiting under the old bridge at the back end of Hind Meadow. Tonight. I know it’s a lot to ask, but please. I’m begging you.”
Hoping he’s busy hoarding and organising a bunch of spitting camels for me, I wink at Leila. She’s lying on the ground beside me, on top of one man with another plunging her pucker. She’s not even bothering to pretend like she’s enjoying it; these men are too drunk and savage now to notice the difference anyway. It’s witching hour at the brothel, near closing time when all the men start to spit the dummy and let their inner demons come out for a final fuck.
Wincing, she gives Kit a slight nod; the signal.
Good, fucking swell, though I barely have the energy to be happy because I think my vagina has finally drowned in seminal fluid. I’m going to have a little funeral for her later, once I’m not so goddamn anxious. Maybe even try to revive her.
A man pays Kroe extra to have his cock in me while Leila works the stub of her thin arm up his arsehole, which he appears to thoroughly enjoy. I imagine Leila enjoys it too, plunging one of them for once rather than receiving the treatment herself.
When he’s finally done with his fantasy, Kroe saunters over to our stage, looking immaculate in the new suit he probably splurged on from all the extra income he’s been making over the past two weeks.
“That was fucking delightful, girls. I think I’ll take you both with me to my room tonight, I have a few ideas I’d like to play around with.”
I freeze, holding back the bile that’s working its way up my throat.
Fuck.
I glance at the clock—nine fifty. The drinks for the guards are already lined up on the bar. I dare not risk a peak at Leila, I know she’ll be freaking out as much as I am.
We told Kit to use all the fucking herbs, too. Just to be sure … and the camels are probably already there, spitting all over each other.
This is going to be all for nothing.
The room flashes bright.
Goddammit.
God fucking dammit.
Standing before Kroe, is Aero … looking savage wearing a chest plate of bronze fucking god wear, like he’s dressed for a bloody coronation or some shit, not a whore house.
What the fuck is he doing here?
My vagina does a little dance, and I rejoice in the fact that she didn’t drown after all. But he’s not looking at me with those hooded eyes … which makes her pause her little mating dance. He’s giving a different girl his fucking attention.
A hushed silence falls across the room and everyone kneels, except me, because I’m suspended between two giant wooden schlongs. Come to think of it, I’ve never knelt to them before … they must think I’m super disrespectful. Should probably remedy that.
“To what do we owe the honour?” Kroe gushes, shuffling forward to kiss Aero’s feet.
Aero accepts the grovelling, looking positively sinister as he does so, then swipes a dismissive hand at Kroe. “Enough. I’m here for cunt, not cock.”
I cough. ‘Say what now?’
“Yes, Milord …” Kroe slowly rises, motioning towards me. “I offer you the rebel here, strung between the poles. She’s the one who spoke out of turn and was whipped for it. Perhaps s
ubstance to enliven your own fantasies?”
My vagina isn’t sure what to do at the moment. She’s half riding the edge of an orgasm at the prospect of having Aero’s giant cock nestled inside her, brave twat, but half weirded the fuck out that he would take advantage of her in her current situation.
Aero throws Kroe a look of disgust, barely glancing my way. “I couldn’t get off from that if I tried.”
Wow. My vagina just fucking fainted, not to mention my achy-breaky heart.
Wait, I see what he did there … ‘couldn’t get off from that’? He’s probably referring to my dramatic staged event, which represents my torture. Not me in general. Well … at least I hope that’s what he’s referring to.
“I want her.” He gestures towards Leila. “They don’t need hands for me to fuck them into a pulp.”
Holy. Fucking. Hell.
Clever God. Taking Leila out of Kroe’s equation for the night … years of immortality hasn’t just engorged the head on his penis, after all. Seems it’s done some good for his brain as well.
“Yes, my Lord!” Kroe gushes. “Of course. I’ll just unchain her from the slag, here.” That fucking word again. The next person to use it is going to get ripped a new arsehole.
I roll my eyes, refusing to look at Aero, who’s working around his restrictions to salvage the whole situation I’ve got going on here. It’s kind of gallant, in a really fucked up way. Still, I’m pissed. He’s about to fuck Leila into oblivion before he’s even had the chance to fuck me into oblivion. I want to be the one to peel that bronze chest plate from his hard fucking chest!
Aero motions Leila towards that red velvet sex lounger over there, in my direct line of goddamn sight.
No …
‘Really?!’ I think yell. ‘You can’t be fucking serious! Can’t you get a room?’
I’ve been watching people bang on that thing all day, I never pictured my Dawn God would be using it to drape somebody over, and certainly not someone other than me.
Leila’s watching me with wide, frightened eyes as one of the younger girls wipes her down with a damp cloth, and the sex lounger is scrubbed clean for the big shiny God and his little toy whore.
Kroe rips the last shred of dignity from Leila’s body—the scarce piece of lingerie that strategically covers her scar, if nothing else. Bastard. I worked so hard to pull that thing down over her shoulders, too.
Leila sheds a tear, entirely exposed.
“Now you can see all the damage, Milord.”
Aero growls, deep in his chest. “Fuck off, I’m trying to enjoy my meal.”
“Yes, Milord.” Kroe drops faster than a pair of prostitute’s panties, slithering back into the crowd like the serpent he is.
The rest of the men in the room have given Aero a wide berth, plenty of space for him to spread his wings if he wishes. I know from experience just how much High Fae like to show them off while they’re fucking.
I’m swallowing bile that’s smeared with a metallic sheen as another man lines up behind me, probably my last paying customer of the day. He grabs my hair, ripping my head so far to the side that I let out a strangled scream.
“I paid triple to make you bleed, filthy whore.”
Aero’s darkening gaze snaps to me, even as he tips Leila over the seater and starts unbuttoning his pants, canines lengthening.
He’s angry at the fucker behind me, I can feel it, smell it, sense it rolling off him like a wave.
‘Calm down.’
Leila may look frightened, but I can smell her desire … it’s practically dripping off her. I don’t blame her, not with the majestic God standing behind her, parting her legs and readying to plunge her nether regions.
Her mind is frightened, but her body thinks otherwise.
Aero’s eyes reel me in as he slides his fingers through Leila’s folds, before freeing his large throbbing self and following the path his fingers just took with the head of his penis, paying special attention to her clit.
Leila’s look of fear turns to one of surprise and then pleasure. She moans a little, and gently tilts her hips to gain him better access.
But Aero’s not looking at her—he’s looking at me. My vagina just roused from her dramatic exit.
The bastard behind me thrusts his cock into my arse at the same time Aero drives his impressive length into Leila’s overstretched vagina, though she doesn’t look pained about it. In fact, she brings one of her stubs down between her legs and shamelessly starts working herself from the front, her expression one of pure pleasure. She’s rocking herself onto his shaft just as much as he’s working her from behind.
Dickhead behind me, however, he’s working me like he’s plunging a pipe, though I suppose that’s exactly what he’s doing. His fist gripping my hair, keeping my neck arched and vulnerable, he fucks me so hard my wrists begin to bleed from the pressure applied to my bonds. I ignore the pain, instead focusing on Aero’s cock sliding in and out of Leila’s honey trench while she moans like we were all taught to, except I think hers are actually genuine.
I feel the moisture coating my vagina much quicker than the idiot behind me smells it. “You’re fucking enjoying this, aren’t you? You’re not meant to like it! That’s not what I paid for!” He tears at my nipple with his fingers, leaving a sharp burn in its wake.
Aero growls, low and deep, still holding my eye contact as I grit my teeth against the pain.
‘Stop looking at me, people will notice.’
He shakes his fucking head. Disobedient Dawn God.
I hate that he’s seeing me like this, even if my vagina’s getting satisfaction from the way he’s coaxing Leila towards climax. I feel like my wrists are about to break from the pressure, but my mind’s so focused on Aero sliding in and out of her that the pain’s just subdued background noise … in and out, in and out.
Most of the crowd continue to bow to the gleaming God before them, fucking a whore in one of their brothels. They’re probably going to go home thinking they’re all blessed or some shit.
Aero bares his teeth and stops his rhythmic thrusting, his wings unfolding from his back, stretching to their full, glorious span to the gasps and murmurs of the crowd, a second before I feel the sharp sting of teeth sinking into my neck …
What.
The
Fuck.
I scream. Nobody’s ever bitten me before!
Aero’s jaw is clenched, nostrils flared, muscles bulging as his wings break off the view of an entire portion of the crowd. Everyone else probably thinks their Dawn God is enjoying the show. Maybe he is, maybe I’m wrong about him. Maybe his wings came out because he was close to climax … not because he’s being a territorial bastard.
I scream again, eyes rolling back as the fucker sinks his teeth in further. My hands are cut from my bonds and the man is pried from my floppy body that’s about as useful as a limp dick.
“You got your blood, time to fuck off.” Kroe scoops me up and carries me away.
He smells like sardines again. I fucking hate sardines.
Chapter Seven
The resident healer tended my wounds, dousing me in herbs for pain relief, and also to stop the delirium—the weird semi-sexual fantasies I could barely make heads nor tails of. So fucking strange.
We’re not meant to bite other people. We’re taught to never use our mouths unless someone puts their cock in it, and even then, we have to be careful not to cut them. I guess that makes a hell of a lot more sense to me now …
While I was being tended, I asked for something to give me an energy boost, knowing I’ll be needing it later tonight. She obliged and gave me a leaf to chew that left me feeling really fucking jacked.
Kroe collected me so I could bathe in his chambers, preferring me to use his personal soaps and lotions when he’s intending to pound me for the night.
“You’re looking as fresh as a daisy again. Did you do the douche?” Kroe hates mixing his own semen with that of other men.
I nod as I pad t
owards the bed, my hair still damp from the bath.
“Good, your arsehole, too?”
I nod again. Wanker—I know how to clean myself after a hard day of fuckery. They think we’re all savage animals, what they don’t realise is that women are much smarter than men, because our brain capacity isn’t shared between two entirely separate heads.
Ok, that’s sexist. And not true. But it sounds good.
“Come over here.” He signals for me to join him on the massive bed he’s splayed naked across, eating from a tray piled high with food.
Wincing, I shuffle towards the bed.
“You sore, Cupcake?”
Another nod as I gently lower myself onto the bed. Yes, I am sore, because my vagina’s given up on me again, and right now I really fucking need her if I’m going to screw this man until he’s so satiated that he passes out and falls into his deepest sleep ever.
“Lay down on your stomach and take some food from the plate. I’ll smear some ointment on you.”
Ointment sounds great, though I wish it was the sort Aero had; to numb my nether regions entirely. Especially if she’s not going to rise to the occasion and give a girl a hand.
No answer from my vagina. Twat.
The food smells good, but even the sight of it is making my stomach churn.
Kroe lifts a brow at me as he pops a cherry tomato into his mouth. “Eat. You’re starting to lose your curves we worked so hard to procure.”
Fucker. I nibble at a piece of potato, hoping I keep it down.
He parts my legs, exposing me to him entirely and I battle my inner urge to wiggle away—that just wouldn’t work for me right now. He expels a lot of energy when he’s chasing me around the room. It’s kind of like a fucked-up version of cat and mouse, and I need this man to trust me, to be well and truly sucked into an orgasm stupor if my plan’s going to work at all.
“She did take a pounding today, didn’t she?” He rubs his fingers along my folds, being uncharacteristically tender as he smears a gooey substance over me, through me …