dancing under her flanks to attack her undersides, her belly and the sides of her breasts, the wiry stalks terrible harbingers of havoc. But there was a keen sense of abandonment, of being deprived of will and left helpless to the mercy of another.
Going slack, each lambasting kiss of the whip brought out a moment of tension from her pained form, but then she fell weak again, the whip eating away her energy, almost making her resigned to it. Her battle was lost, so she was surrendering.
Grizzling, she was treated to the whip again, the duke elevating her sorrow, lashing her with regular and swift strokes. Prancing back and forth, his hair spilling around him, his necklace danced in the light, his features flushed.
For long minutes she was abused thus, the warlock dripping with moisture from his labours, hacking into her, a cruel smile across his lips, his eyes alive with pleasure, the crystal glowing with new levels of radiance.
With a growling hiss he jumped over her arm, then her 88
leg, placing himself between her legs after vaulting the hurdles. Grabbing one of her torrefied buttocks he clasped the flesh and purred with lust, confirming that the mere sight of her writhing under him was making the warlock burn with desire to again have her sultry body.
Slamming the whip across her rear he thrashed from side to side, the oscillating strokes skimming her skin, making her screech, the welts all the more pronounced on this well-tenderised flesh. Dropping forward, he could resist her no longer. Grabbing his tumescent shaft and the plug he yanked the toy out, bringing wails through Kira’s mutated gag, the sharp flash of its flight kindling a similar paroxysm from her body. Flinging it rudely aside he replaced it with an organic sample.
Kira’s head flung back to its limits, her mouth grinding on the gag as she felt him enter her, the feel of such penetration almost making her climax. The intensity of the pain she had endured carried her to a new intensity of pleasure. With his body resting on her he thrust deep, pounding with rabid drives, drops of sweat falling onto her back, warm and moist, a frenzied drizzle, the weight of his body elevating the mayhem in her stretched limbs.
Growling with animal lust the duke clawed at her skin, recalling the whip, letting his fingers emerge once more, his nails scratching her, leaving flushed lines but failing to break her hardy skin. Kira was screeching for him to finish, to have him pour his seed into her, the rapture unequalled.
The feel of a warm phallus in her cool tracts was glorious, like coming in from the cold to nuzzle by a fire. The drag at her rear as he stabbed into her, sinking to his fullest extent, made her groan with delight at being filled so acutely.
With a roar of rapture the duke broke into random fits, 89
injecting a hot jolt of semen into her, the grinding phallus moving in fitful stabs as he stole every portion of pleasure he could from her bottom. Kira squeezed to him, adding to the sensations, equally delighted by the feeling of being used so, of having him thrusting into her, churning her insides with bliss.
The duke slumped back, dragging free of her rear and dropping onto the carpet, arms and legs splayed out, his breath long and panting as he recovered from his exertions.
The demon women lowered to the floor, letting Kira’s front nestle upon the carpet before they released their sphincter shackles and pulled free of her, excreting her extremities.
One of them leaned in and stole one of her tears, catching it on a shifting finger and running it across her pointed tongue with a smile. Then, as quickly as they had come, the women stepped back into the seas of shadow still shifting across the floor, their bodies vanishing into it. Only their eyes remained – fixed to her before they too closed, letting the tides of darkness retreat.
Huddled on the floor, Kira’s body was alive with feeling. Wiping her eyes, she arose and crawled over to him,
Going slack, each lambasting kiss of the whip brought out a moment of tension from her pained form, but then she fell weak again, the whip eating away her energy, almost making her resigned to it. Her battle was lost, so she was surrendering.
Grizzling, she was treated to the whip again, the duke elevating her sorrow, lashing her with regular and swift strokes. Prancing back and forth, his hair spilling around him, his necklace danced in the light, his features flushed.
For long minutes she was abused thus, the warlock dripping with moisture from his labours, hacking into her, a cruel smile across his lips, his eyes alive with pleasure, the crystal glowing with new levels of radiance.
With a growling hiss he jumped over her arm, then her 88
leg, placing himself between her legs after vaulting the hurdles. Grabbing one of her torrefied buttocks he clasped the flesh and purred with lust, confirming that the mere sight of her writhing under him was making the warlock burn with desire to again have her sultry body.
Slamming the whip across her rear he thrashed from side to side, the oscillating strokes skimming her skin, making her screech, the welts all the more pronounced on this well-tenderised flesh. Dropping forward, he could resist her no longer. Grabbing his tumescent shaft and the plug he yanked the toy out, bringing wails through Kira’s mutated gag, the sharp flash of its flight kindling a similar paroxysm from her body. Flinging it rudely aside he replaced it with an organic sample.
Kira’s head flung back to its limits, her mouth grinding on the gag as she felt him enter her, the feel of such penetration almost making her climax. The intensity of the pain she had endured carried her to a new intensity of pleasure. With his body resting on her he thrust deep, pounding with rabid drives, drops of sweat falling onto her back, warm and moist, a frenzied drizzle, the weight of his body elevating the mayhem in her stretched limbs.
Growling with animal lust the duke clawed at her skin, recalling the whip, letting his fingers emerge once more, his nails scratching her, leaving flushed lines but failing to break her hardy skin. Kira was screeching for him to finish, to have him pour his seed into her, the rapture unequalled.
The feel of a warm phallus in her cool tracts was glorious, like coming in from the cold to nuzzle by a fire. The drag at her rear as he stabbed into her, sinking to his fullest extent, made her groan with delight at being filled so acutely.
With a roar of rapture the duke broke into random fits, 89
injecting a hot jolt of semen into her, the grinding phallus moving in fitful stabs as he stole every portion of pleasure he could from her bottom. Kira squeezed to him, adding to the sensations, equally delighted by the feeling of being used so, of having him thrusting into her, churning her insides with bliss.
The duke slumped back, dragging free of her rear and dropping onto the carpet, arms and legs splayed out, his breath long and panting as he recovered from his exertions.
The demon women lowered to the floor, letting Kira’s front nestle upon the carpet before they released their sphincter shackles and pulled free of her, excreting her extremities.
One of them leaned in and stole one of her tears, catching it on a shifting finger and running it across her pointed tongue with a smile. Then, as quickly as they had come, the women stepped back into the seas of shadow still shifting across the floor, their bodies vanishing into it. Only their eyes remained – fixed to her before they too closed, letting the tides of darkness retreat.
Huddled on the floor, Kira’s body was alive with feeling. Wiping her eyes, she arose and crawled over to him,
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