Mega Huge Collection of Rougher Daddies

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Mega Huge Collection of Rougher Daddies Page 89

by Lara Friedman


  But the spell was too powerful and the darkness came for her with relentless need. She breathed deep and then gasped out a final cry of angst before she gave in, hoping against hope that this time the emptiness of the deep sleep would keep the horrors of the nightmare that awaited her at bay.

  ~~~~~~~~

  He watched with detached need as she came to him, her once bright eyes clouded and confused. They could never remember how they came to arrive here in his chambers, and always he was struck with the look of renewed despair that would play across their features. Her movements were sluggish but sensual, the look of honey as it drizzled slowly along the edge of a honeycomb, and he called her to him without making a sound. She whimpered, and he felt her fear as it struggled beneath the haze of the spell that had been cast upon her, the taste of it an aphrodisiac that only emboldened his need. She was his puppet, he was her master, and even as he took pleasure from her this night, she would find greater pleasure in her fear and release in her pain as it pushed her closer towards redemption.

  "Do not cry, Gherinda," he soothed, his voice deceptively low and calm. He could see now how she trembled as she dropped to her hands and knees and began to crawl slowly towards him. Her skin was pale and unblemished, her hair -- once ebony and dark as midnight -- was now interspersed with startling streaks of white that shimmered and paled against the smoothness of her skin.

  "Please me as you have in the past, and you will find no malice here," he whispered when she had finally reached the throne where he sat in the center of the room. It was a massive chair of polished ivory and leather that sat on top of a large, round dias surrounded by a layering of 7 large steps. She had climbed those steps with a maddening pace of arousing, graceful movements, and now came to kneel between his legs, a single tear sliding from the corner of her eye as her soft, pink tongue darted out to moisten lips already growing eager to know the taste of him, even as her mind recoiled from the taint of his soul.

  "So beautiful," he breathed as he placed his hand beneath her chin and tilted her head up to meet his black, depthless eyes.

  Outside thunder bellowed and lightening sizzled and snaked across the night sky.

  "I have a very special task for you this evening," he said, indulging in a perverse smile that caused her to whine. Throwing back his robe, he reached down to slowly stroke his throbbing shaft, the size of it monstrous and disproportionate as it bulged and oozed, more animal than human. He groaned as he squeezed a small drop of fluid from the split of the massive purple head, gliding the tip of it along the smoothness of her lips before grabbing her head and sliding her mouth slowly down over the shaft. He was far too large to fit entirely in her mouth but he pushed and shoved none the less until she gagged, stroking the smoothness of her throat and encouraging her to relax the muscles further until he was so far in she was certain he had filled her throat completely. He moaned with pleasure as her tongue and lips began to move and suckle, tiny, feather-like strokes restricted by the fullness of him nestled within.

  "Your skills improve," he encouraged, his hand now fisted painfully within her hair in direct contrast to the gentleness of his tone. And then she felt the clamminess of another against her, and she began to struggle.

  "Do not be a fool!" he hissed, reaching down to pinch and twist cruelly at her nipple. The act was painful and distracting, and much to her dismay she felt herself grow immediately hot and wet between her legs.

  "You will allow Candor his pleasure," he said coldly, and she knew immediately of whom he spoke. Candor was a vile creature, part man, part beast, who served as over-seer in the dungeons below. He was cruel and perverse, and delighted in torturing them with all manner of instruments whenever he had earned his Lord's favor. But never had any been forced to couple with the monstrosity!!!

  The thought renewed her sense of panic even as her Master's shaft filled her throat and she struggled again as her sense of self-preservation was renewed for a time, making the creature behind her gurgle and laugh before sliding his knotted shaft between the slickened crease of her smooth, rounded globes. The reprimand was quick when Master again pinched her nipple until the pain drove her back into submission, firm fingers twisting the tiny bud until the tip grew swollen and purple.

  "Do not push me, Candor," he said then, his voice low and dangerous. "I reward you as I have rewarded no other for the task you've performed, but do not tempt my good will by prolonging this act. Finish your deed before I have stopped feeding or your soul will be forfeit when the beast's jealousy is aroused."

  He reached down to wrap large fingers firmly around the slender smoothness of one of her arms. With uncommon gentleness he slowly brought her wrist to his lips with one hand as he continued to hold her head with the other, beginning to carefully fuck the moist heat of her mouth with restrained need. With a groan of anticipation he turned her wrist and inhaled the delicate scent of her as his nose traced along the pulsing vein, enjoying the headiness of her before he slowly sank the pointed tips of his incisors into the yielding softness of her skin. He felt her tense as he pierced her, then she relaxed as he began to draw from her vein. He fed with languid, sensual strokes of his tongue as his lips sucked and coaxed the liquid into his hungry mouth, the sensation of his movements traveling to the sheathed nub of her center and causing her to gasp with unexpected pleasure.

  But then there was a muffled snarl behind her and Condor rose up to fold over her, grabbing her hips and pulling her against him as he plunged his mottled shaft deep within her slickened folds. Had her mouth not been full she would have cried out from the violation, feeling her walls shudder and resist as the knotted, disfigured penis plunged in and out, scraping, tearing, swelling and oozing as he rode her like the vile animal that he was.

  Even as one part of her shivered and gasped from the delicious feel of the Master as he suckled at her wrist and filled her mouth with his hardness, the other recoiled and shuddered in revulsion as that monstrosity fucked her from behind with deviant thrusts of greed and lust. His hips bucked and his shaft swelled, and all the while her master fed, teasing her clit without even touching the sensitive tip so that she knew -- much to her horror -- that she was going to climax even as this creature from behind filled her with his blistering seed. Faster and harder Condor pumped and plunged, and she felt him swell even more, bulging painfully inside of her, pulsing and throbbing as he approached his climax.

  And then the master himself shuddered and drew away from her wrist. He looked over her shoulder and she saw the look of hunger there, torn between jealously and lust, watching greedily as the man-beast rode his whore, the unholy monster's swollen sack slapping with a loud, wet rhythm against her trembling thighs. With a low, rumbling growl the Master pushed himself into her face completely and she began to gag as he exploded and his fluid poured down her throat, pulsing jets of heated cream that strangled her as he held her head to him with both hands now, forcing her to drink deep. As she gulped greedily at the bitter fluid, her body began to overheat as if flames licked all along her skin, and then with a strangled gasp of her own she climaxed, a consuming blend of pleasure and pain. She tightened around Condor who had moments earlier emptied himself into her and now tried desperately to pull free of her convulsing walls, even as the Master's eyes turned suddenly red and accusing.

  "Why do I find you still here, Condor?" he said, his voice different now, more a snarling growl than human sound. He stared unflinching at the minion, and she began to tremble with fear as she felt the pulse of his displeasure began to swell and consume. Her master was two halves of one beast, and true to his word, the beast now confronted Condor, sated and angry to find his puppet being violated by another.

  "My Lord," Condor wheezed as he finally slid free from her to stumble backwards. She did not move, did not make a sound, though she could not help but smile as she heard the foul creature began to snivel pathetically behind her. She hoped the fuck was worth it.

  "Did I not warn you?" he asked Condor quietly.<
br />
  "My Lord, I mean no disrespect. I have served you for many centuries with all manner of loyalty!" His words slithered and ran together, reptilian in nature as panic began to take hold.

  "Indeed."

  There was a rush of wind, the smell of it noxious and foul, and then she heard Condor scream out from behind her before the sounds became muffled beneath a screeching, writhing mass of vines.

  The Hedge Beast!

  "Take him back to the dungeons where he belongs and feast for a span of 2 days. No more and no less."

  She could hear Condor's weakened pleas, but the sound faded to nothingness as the Hedge Beast carried him off to the dungeons below - a vile creature of invasive vines and piercing spines that would violate and feed with painful demand. Even better - this the beast would do from within the grand chamber that sat at the bottom of the surrounding cells where they were kept - the 'grooming' chamber as Condor lovingly referred to it, a hideous place of pleasured pain where he strapped the helpless to all manner of devices therein to be tortured and probed to the Master's delight. It was rare that Condor himself was on the receiving end of discipline, but when he was, at least the Master was gracious and allowed them all to watch, and she smiled in anticipation.

  But of course then, she began to cry.

  Odd what one would come to call gracious, she thought with a rare moment of lucidity, when one lived in hell.

  ~~~~~~~

  "We're lost," Crissy said flatly as she fired up another joint. "I told you we should have waited until tomorrow."

  "Will you just shut the fuck up you stupid bitch!" Chase snapped, fighting back the urge to reach across the seat and choke the living shit out of the nagging cunt. She looked at him without speaking, without flinching, and simply drew deep on the hand-rolled joint, pulling the smoke easily into her lungs and then blowing it slowly out and into his face with a look that said 'piss-off'.

  From the back seat, Savannah's head bounced painfully against the headrest as she struggled against another wave of nausea. She still couldn't remember how she had gotten here, certainly she didn't remember meeting these two, and their fighting was making her head ache even more. She had a hazy memory of being on Holiday somewhere -- Ireland, maybe? But after that, everything grew fuzzy and disjointed. There were vague images of a sparse hotel room, and she remembered stopping at a local pub for dinner. The next thing she knew, she was waking up in the backseat of a cramped compact car, bouncing around fog-enshrouded moors as a monstrous storm consumed the night and threatened to sweep them all off the road. To make matters worse, those few moments when she was actually coherent, she was forced to listen to the two of them in the front seat fighting and arguing about their destination, wherever that happened to be.

  She had tried a couple of times to sit up and call out to them, but her limbs felt like lead and her lips were thick and unresponsive. Had she been drugged, she wondered? The thought made her heart race, and she struggled against the web of confusion that clogged her ability to reason things out. As shs struggled to grasp at elusive clarity, another wave of nausea struck and she could do little more than slump over in the seat as she struggled not to be sick. Outside thunder pealed with deafening madness as rain fell like stones from the sky, pelting the small vehicle.

  Another streak of lightening lit up the night and the woman suddenly cried out in fear as a monstrous castle appeared out of nowhere, just across the moors.

  "What the hell?" her companion muttered as the car came to an abrupt halt. He leaned forward and wiped at the rapidly fogging windows to peer into the night. "Did you see that?"

  "What's there to see, you dumb fuck? We're in the middle of nowhere because you're a dumb fuck screw up!" she said with a sneer, all thoughts of the castle suddenly gone as she turned to complain once more.

  He reached out with snake-like quickness and grabbed her neck to squeeze tightly, cutting off her air.

  "Listen, bitch, I've had about all of you I can take for one night. Either shut that yap of yours or suck my balls, I don't care which. But if you keep nagging at me in that whiney-ass voice of yours, I'm gonna cut that worthless fucking tongue right out of that worthless fucking mouth of yours."

  "Okay, okay," she say, raising her hands in mock surrender. She gave a nervous laugh and reached out to hand him the joint with visibly shaking fingers. "Geeze, baby, lighten up, will you?" She gave a tentative tug at the fingers wrapped around her throat like a vise until he finally relaxed his grip. He took the joint from her with a curse and pulled deep as he slid his hand from her neck, and she reached up to gingerly inspect for damage.

  In the backseat, Savannah moaned again.

  "God, how much did you give her?" Crissy asked. "If she pukes, I'm not paying the extra fee to have this piece of shit rental cleaned."

  "I gave her the same as I give the others. She's just a god-damned lightweight is all. But that's cool. Just means we'll probably get a higher price for her if she's clean."

  "Hell, she's so clean I'll bet that's virgin puss between those legs," Crissy said with a giggle as she took the joint from Chase.

  "What a fucking waste, then, eh?" he said as he reached over to nibble at Crissy's lip. She laughed and plunged her tongue deep into his mouth.

  "Don't you worry, baby. With the money we're gonna make selling this one, we'll finally have enough to get the hell off this island and make a life for ourselves in the states." She ran her hand up under his shirt to smooth over the knotted muscles of his chest. He grabbed her hand and stopped her, then yanked at her hair and pulled painfully until she was forced to looked up at him, complaining as she struggled against him.

  "Just don't you think about crossing me like you did ole' Danny boy, eh?" he said with a leering smile. "I'm not some dumb fuck farm boy raised up in pig shit. You try to run out on me, I'll cut your tits off and make you watch while I feed 'em to the crocs. You got that love?"

  Another round of lightening, and this time, there was no mistaking the castle that now sat on the other side of the moor. Chase abruptly let go of Crissy and turned to gape once more.

  "Jesus H. Christ," Crissy said at last. "How did we not see that earlier?"

  "I don't know, and I don't care. Looks like that's where we'll be staying tonight."

  "But what about-" Crissy nodded towards Savannah in the backseat.

  "Don't worry -- we'll say she's your sister and she's sick."

  "Are you crazy??" she yelled.

  Outside the idling car, the wind began to blow and howl once more, and the small car rose up slightly on one side, threatening to tip over in the rapidly rising waters.

  "You got a better idea?" he yelled back as the car bucked and swayed. He throttled the gas and the car lurched forward, finding solid ground once more as the tires began to bite into the mud and move them forward. With a disgruntled mumble of curses Crissy sat back and finished off the joint, fear beginning to nibble at the base of her spine as they drew closer and closer to the ominous castle that sat foreboding and angry as it clung to the edge of the world.

  The End.

  The Rescuer

  "Well, that's about it. Been pretty quiet, nothing else to report. You have a good shift, ya'hear."

  "I plan to, Bob, I plan to," I replied. "See you same time tomorrow."

  Bob put his flashlight and nightstick in his locker, and then waved me goodbye.

  I scanned the security monitors. Nothing doing. Being the security guard for a big, downtown office block had its ups and downs, but doing night shift was definitely one of the boring bits. Nothing ever happened.

  A tour of the building might help pass the time until my next donut break, I decided.

  With my flashlight and trusty gun by my side, I rode the elevator upwards. Bing! 39th floor. Finkelstein and Associates, Attorneys at Law.

  I opened the office door with my master key. My flashlight pierced the darkness to reveal...nothing. Of course. Just as the security cameras were showing, nothing was happening.r />
  I locked the doors again, and went down the fire escape to the next floor down. I was a bit out of breath by the time I reached the next office. Man, I really needed to lose a bit of weight and exercise more. But then again, having a big frame was sometimes an advantage in my job.

  OK, next office. Tate and Stephens Advertising Agency. Same deal: open the door, shine flashlight in, see nothing of any interest, lock door again.

  I ambled slowly down to the 37th floor, housing the GoldmanSmithLynch suites. They were some big investment company, or something. I didn't really know what they did. But that didn't matter, all I needed to do was take a quick look in. Unlock the door, poke head in, wave flashlight around.

  Except this time, I see something unusual. A light is on in one of the corner offices. Maybe they just forgot to turn the light off. I needed to check.

  I pushed open the door to the office with the light on, and light spilled out into the rest of the suite. My eyes were so used to the darkness of the rest of the building that I was temporarily blinded by the light. When my eyes finally adjusted to the glare, I could hardly believe what I saw in front of me.

  There was a woman bent over a desk. At first, I thought she was dead or unconscious, but then I saw her wriggling around on the desk. I soon realized why she was moving around like that: she was tied to the table and she was trying to get free.

  My first instinct was to rush in and free her, but then I stopped and considered the situation. I looked more closely.

  She was a small woman with straight black hair that was about shoulder length. She had a blindfold over her eyes, but by what I could see of her face, she was between about 25 and 30. She had full, red lips which were pouting with effort and annoyance.

 

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