The Executioner's Girl

by Willow Sears

  All the while I imagined the crowd wondering who this fat blue man was and why he had attracted such attention from two Mistress’s in the one night. All that went through my head was: if he talks, I am lost. Everyone will instantly know everything that has been going on and somehow it will make me look ridiculous and ruin any chance I had with Ariadne. This was all probably a mile from the truth and doubtless no-one cared who he was as long as his arse was stinging and he was blubbing. No-one would have batted any eyelid if he had ripped off his mask and declared himself to them all. But in my head, I was walking a tightrope and wobbling ever more.

  Out of desperation I stopped beating him for a second and put my mouth to his ear, hissing, “Just tell me what she did to you!”

  He was shaking and sobbing but the edge to my voice was unmistakeable and he knew he must oblige me at last. For all his worries, when he finally spoke, his voice was so strained and unfamiliar I could never have identified him from it.

  “Nothing happened, Miss Willow,” he squeaked. “We just talked.”

  “You were in there for ages–do you expect me to believe she did nothing to you?”

  “All she did was make me fellate the dildo she was wearing. Then she laughed and spat at my penis and threatened to stamp on it unless I told her about you!”

  This should have been music to my ears but instead it was disconcerting. On the face of it “Blueberry” knew very little about me, but Harvey doubtless knew considerably more–as much as I knew myself–and I had just seen how he could crumble under pressure.

  “And what did you tell her?” I demanded.

  “Only that you were my Mistress and you liked to humiliate me.”

  Not for the first time I shuddered at the thought of what information had been prised from me whilst under hypnosis. He could have given up all my secrets–my small virgin cunt, my utter obsession with Ariadne, the things I watched myself do in the bathroom mirror. If she found out any weakness she would surely use it against me. I began to lose my temper, no doubt sounding vengeful and desperate in his ear.

  “You were in there all that time and you said nothing more? And she did nothing to you?”

  “I promise, Miss Willow. I said no more about you and she did nothing. But...”

  “But what, you fat fuck?” I had him by the jaw now, trying to squeeze the answers from his mouth. I sensed a sudden change, a stiffening of resolve unlike the previous cowering submission. I let go of his face and he turned it to me trying to get near enough to whisper, “I can make her yours if you want.”

  His words took a little while to register but I felt a kind of incredulous rage built quickly inside me and I grabbed his hair and snarled, “What? What did you just say?”

  “Excuse me, Mistress Willow, but Mistress Ariadne would like to invite you to her private room.”

  This new voice came from behind me, cutting through my thoughts. I dragged my eyes off Blueberry and saw that this new messenger was none other than my old adversary Wiry Dude, clad in what seemed like a wetsuit with a circle cut for his privates to dangle free. My head was spinning, my mind trying to process this sudden rush of information and prioritise it. There was irritation mixed with incomprehension and excitement but one question seemed to fit everything, so I said out loud, “What do you mean?”

  Wiry Dude was the first to answer, so he stole my thoughts.

  “Mistress Ariadne has invited you to join her in her Cock Room,” he said. “I think she would like you to come right away.”

  This was it, then, the moment I had been waiting for. The gathered crowd were still expectantly awaiting a final flurry of nastiness to be delivered to my fat blue slave, but they could all go fuck themselves. Blueberry’s last words were still somewhere in my mind, refusing to be forgotten although there really was no need for them now that Ariadne had called me to her. As I left the room I did look back at my slave, still bent over and probably bleeding beneath his rubber suit. I saw his eyes behind the mask, one off to the side, the other staring straight at me, bright with his pain. He spoke. It was only softly spoken but I still heard it, even above the chatter of the room, as if it was on a special wavelength that only I could receive.

  “I can make her yours if you want,” he said, “but I want one thing in return.”

  I was already leaving him behind and his words were fading fast. I entered Ariadne’s Cock Room and saw with a jolt that it was appropriately named. It was white and sparse, with a few shelves and racks for toys. The walls were covered with prints and paintings of erect penises and huge false cocks stuck out like trophies from all sides and surfaces. Some were dildos, others casts or ornaments, each one a monster to make my hairs stand on end. The Goddess herself was lying upon some kind of waist-high examination table, so short I could see her long hair hanging below the under frame, whilst her bottom was at the very edge nearest to me, and her legs were up in a V shape, straight at the knee, held at the ankle by her helper. She wore blue high heeled shoes and fishnet suspender-stockings, and nothing else except for a smooth dildo in a harness, which had been loosened and pushed aside to make room for the real thing that lay upon her. It was the first time I had seen her naked breasts and I was disappointed to see that the long hard nipples which flattened the flesh to the body had been coloured with a gaudy red lipstick along the teats and in large circles surrounding them, making them seem both sore and vulgar. In my dreams her nipples were always small and pink, just like mine.

  This was less worrisome than the fact that the Ten Inch Brothers attended her, one at either end, their pricks hard and ready once more. As I edged further into the room I saw them all side-on, the huge erections laying on her like waiting snakes, one flat to her mons and belly, the other starting at her mouth and resting down upon her chest. The Brother at the far end had mounted the couch and was straddling her head, so that I could barely see her face. His big ball sack flopped over her nose, the shaft of his cock pressing down on her lips, which were nonetheless fixed in a contented grin. It was a bizarre pose but as I stared at the impossible lengths it dawned on me that it was again for my benefit. The laying of the pricks was a graphic demonstration of just how far into her body, into anyone’s body, they would go. The one at her pussy end would push right through the womb and into the intestines, whilst the other one would spear the throat beyond the neck and end up level with the heart. It would mean death by cock, either way. There was no more than a foot separating the two glistening prick-tips, a mere twelve inches of her insides that would not be spitted upon them once they were driven home.

  The plastic cock at her waist was in blue to match her hair and seemed insignificant and almost welcoming alongside these flesh monsters. It was smooth and slender, a nice treat for a good girl’s bottom, or maybe a potential suitor for a virgin puss like my own. The thought made me shiver again. Did she expect these huge pricks to bludgeon me to death or had she mercifully selected the small dildo to breach my tight cunny? Imagine the tender joys of her kissing me all over, of her saliva-slick tongue and fingers and warm squirted oils gently preparing me, of her whispering in my ear to reassure me and then holding me down as she gradually slid the toy inside and opened me up. I might not be scared at all, as long as these brutal cocks had been sent away.

  My heart suddenly swelled with adoring gratitude for her. She must love me too. What else could the dildo be for, if not for me? Not for the boy’s arses, to get them hard again, as there surely hadn’t been time enough to do this since Blueberry was excused from the room. Unless she had used it on him and he had been unable to tell me. Had he really only fellated this false prick or had something dirtier gone on? Perhaps he had been the one to make the Brothers hard again, taking them into his mouth under duress. Maybe Ariadne did use the dildo on him. Maybe even as he sucked the boys she fucked his arse with it and called him all the names under the sun. He must have done something more than just sit tight-lipped in her presence; she would never have stood for that. He must have at t
he very least revealed some of my secrets, or how else would she have known to select this slim dildo to use on me?

  I wanted to be alone with her and could have screamed it. My belly was jumping with the boys being there and it was all I could do to stand my ground. Better perhaps to just turn and run. But if I fled now she would surely offer me no more chances. The Brother astride her head shifted down slightly to get his prick right between her pillow breasts, his venous, hairy hands clasping her flesh and pushing inwards to make a tit-and-cock hot dog. Her lips parted wide and I wanted her to shout for them to go immediately and leave the two of us alone, but she wasn’t going to be giving any orders with her mouth full of his balls. Her nose must have been pressed to his anus. As he gently rocked back and forth and fucked her tits his nasty hole must have rubbed against her beautiful face. It wasn’t right–a Mistress cannot stoop to such humiliations and still retain the higher ground. Depravity is only for slaves and that was exactly what she was acting like, but she was such a cock-happy bitch she just didn’t seem to care.

  I had another tingling tummy-rush as if I had seen the light, briefly understanding the joys of her liberation, the pleasures it could bring. But with freedom comes a level of submission and with that comes being used, and then the danger really starts. No, it was best to stay in control, always. Except that my control was slipping right here and now. I wanted her more than anything and so I could not make myself leave despite all my instincts telling me to do so. I wanted her and her alone, warm and wet and mine. She was just a cock-hungry whore who needed to be stretched and impaled, to shrug off tenderness in favour of being bent over and spitted upon the hugest weapon she could find. My world ended a thousand miles before hers even started, but still I could not go.

  “Do you want my cock now, Goddess?”

  The Brother’s voice made me jump and I felt myself fretting again as she moaned her approval whilst still sucking on the balls in her mouth. It was an engrossing sight, however gruesome to me. The length disappeared inch by inch inside her, forcing ever louder noises from her throat, her belly muscles jumping and twitching as she took him to the very hilt, as seemingly impossible a feat as any sword-swallower’s act. I am ashamed to say that it drew me in. It pulled me towards it and had me bending low so that I could watch his meat sink into her.

  The Brother pushed her legs back and his companion released her tits in order to hold the ankles. She immediately reached up to press her breasts against the cock between them and supply the needed friction, another well-rehearsed circus act by them all. I was crouched by her rear end, inches from her stuffed cunt, able to see the stretched lips and the fat bud of her swollen clit poking out and ready for the crush of his crotch. I wanted to lick her at last, to run my tongue tip along her distended labia and give her an exquisite, gentle thrill, but I could not get my head between him and her and couldn’t bring myself to order him to stop and thus be drawn in as a willing participant of this coarse group fucking.

  I wanted her, though. Even as she was being defiled and her face was covered with arse I could still picture her as I always did, and witness at first hand the soft beauty of her body. The power that came from her was magnetic, her noises of lust as enticing as the Sirens, the heat and smell of her cunt drawing me in. Looking up along her body I could see her hands squeezing those lovely breasts together as the cock head pushed out between them and then drew back, its one eye always on me. Perhaps I would love her nipples once the lipstick had been sucked from them. I would surely adore spending ages feasting on her big tits. I could just see a hint of her ribs under her tanned skin and then the lines down to her stomach, the little dip of her button amongst the softness. Bellies on girls can be so sexy. Hers was nearly perfect. I wanted to bare my puss and rub my cream into her, and would have done if not for the boys and the certainty that their huge cocks would have been jabbing at me in seconds.

  The smell of her desire was getting stronger and the prick sliding in and out of her was now coated with the proof of it. It glistened on his shaft, each time he withdrew and she clung to him I could see fresh layers left upon his surface, another miniscule wave lapping on his beach. I simply had to taste her, and so on his next back-stroke I leant in and licked some juice from his prick. She gave another loud moan of appreciation although my contact with her had been minimal, just a little wet dab of her clit on my cheek.

  The touch of the cock on my lips and tongue had given me butterflies but her juice had been an instant sweet comfort. The tales of her lovely pussy milk had long since been embroidered into my fantasies and the reality was no disappointment–definitely nectar, just like my own. I went in again and took another crafty taste, this time slurping some from the rigid pole and feeling its hot pulse on my lips. As I went in for more the Brother’s hand suddenly went to my head and held me there, inviting me to lap the juice from him while he restricted the depth of his strokes. His touch alarmed me but was only light, so I stayed and didn’t fight the hold, pretending it was just to drink her in and not for his pleasure at all, although I found my soft lips opening and closing along his length and creeping further towards the tip on his withdrawal.

  I’m not sure how I felt at having his great prick sliding across my open lips, lubricated by her silken cream. She was delicate and sweet and masked my fright at his unyielding hardness. It felt safe to have him so close, acceptable to be guzzling from his erection because it was her I was feasting on, not him. But the prick was making me hungry in its own right, especially when I looked up and saw the other one thrusting towards me with the head completely exposed and glistening with intent to spurt. Imagine sucking on one of these huge pipes, of feeling the unrelenting stiffness filling you, the heat and desire, the pulsing veins and bulging smooth head. You could bite it off if the desire took you. They were at your mercy, although it never felt like that. It always felt like you were under their control, on your knees and filled with them, jaw and tongue aching but driven on by your needy quim because the feel of their prick in your mouth was just so downright dirty; the feel of their churning balls in your hand as they prepared to unload, the fight you faced in the efforts to wriggle free of their hold so that their nasty spunk sprayed harmlessly into thin air and not straight down your throat to gag you. Manliness is often measured by his boldness in battle, his muscles, his pluck in the face of adversity, but really and truly there is no greater encapsulation of his potency than the feel of his huge hot prick in your mouth. It can drain every last bit of strength and resolve from you.

  And so I lapped at him some more, holding back the urge to bite into his meat, sucking her sweetness off him and making my way along his pole little by little. Then I had reached her puss and could run my tongue tip up her stretched labia, up to tease her clit. She wailed and I knew the balls had been spat out of her mouth. I looked up and indeed the other cock seemed to be closer, bearing down on me as it flashed back and forth in her spit-soaked cleavage. His scrotum had retracted tightly, almost pushing his balls back into his body. I could see her tongue poking up and knew that the filthy bitch was licking his arse. Even then I still wanted to taste her. The prick beneath my cheek and lips was unable to drive far inside now that my head was in the way, and slowly it withdrew as my mouth went to work in turn on his shaft and her quim. He seemed to sense that there was a new opening for him to fill and I didn’t stop him as I lapped and sucked, actually willing his gradual withdrawal until his glans was visible again, just the very tip going back inside her as my lips travelled up him. Then he was out of her and in my mouth and I was groaning my delight, feeling his cum-covered head filling me.

  One hand had left my head to grasp the shaft and compensate for the lack of friction. I could feel his fist bang against my lips as he tossed himself off. I hadn’t felt this far from my comfort zone in ages but it was good. I could suck him with the knowledge that it was just her I tasted, my flicking tongue and strong suction just the method to collect her nectar from him. I felt safe becaus
e she was here and she was the strongest of us all. And then he was gasping and holding my head harder and I knew with the sudden burst of alarm inside me that I had gone too far.

  I tried to extricate myself but he was too deep and the pressure forcing me into him too great. I could feel the pace of his fist increasing, his hand drumming out the rhythm on my lips, making them slap. I managed a muffled wail but it was no help. I felt him tense and then the first jet hit my tongue and splashed the back of my throat. I tried to counter it but another bigger wad had already spurted out and was making me gag. Despite his earlier ejaculation he still had plenty in reserve and I had to wait for a third large forceful emission before he had weakened sufficiently to allow me to break free from his hold and spit him out.

  I took another burst to the face as I turned away gasping and retching, the thick spunk flowing out of my mouth and onto Ariadne’s soft mons. I was trying to call him a cunt and get his hand from my head but as I jerked away from him I felt my hair being gripped again, although wrenching me away from him this time. I opened my eyes to seek the comfort of her face but instead I saw only the tip of the other cock, the purple head flashing in and out of sight as the pummelling fist drew the foreskin back and forth over it at impossible speed. It spurted too and again I was way too late, the gloop hitting my eye before I could close it, causing an immediate sting. As I blinked to try to expel it more hit home and blinded me, the offence compounded by a shot to my mouth as I opened it to swear or scream.