Depraved by Trent Evans

Chapter 18

Her bottom was absolutely on fire, her thighs aching and swelling. The paddle had been fiendishly hard as it had painted agony upon her backside and legs, and she most definitely did not want any further doses of that.

Her neck was beginning to tire, from the effort of holding her head up to see him as he spoke. It was incredibly degrading, having to do so, and she hated the way her breasts swung below her, like fruit on a vine.

The level of vulnerability she was experiencing was unlike anything she could ever have imagined, even in her darkest, most perverse dreams.

Still, she had to answer the question. She wasn’t sure what the penalty for refusing to answer was, but she knew very much that she was determined not to find out.

“I…I don’t know what you mean. I’m… not wet.”

Of course, that was a damned lie, but the truth of it was far too mortifying for her to admit. It wasn’t that she liked the pain, or even that it turned her on mentally, or psychologically. No, it was just—again—her body seeming to be off on its own. A mind of its own.

She’d silently hoped he hadn’t noted the slickness down there, first heralded by the coiling heat between her thighs as she’d been strung up in that horrible rack.

Her shoulders ached, yes, as did her neck, but the blatant, helpless exposure of her most private parts, the objectifying display of her breasts as they swung obscenely below her, made her never more conscious of their weight as she was at that precise moment.

Was it being forced into this bondage that had her reacting so? Maybe that was it.

But what did that mean?

Then, out of the corner of her eye, she saw him rise, heard the exaggerated sigh.

“No… no. What are you doing? I answered!”

His big, heavy hand settled on the crown of her bottom. “You lied.”

In quick succession, five agonizing, burning bands of fire lashed across her bottom, making her scream. At the last one, the pain making her dance in place, despite the pull and discomfort at her shoulders, she burst into tears, the torment simply too much.

She hated to cry, but she was forced right over the precipice, weeping pitifully, tears pattering to the floor below her. She feared snot might be next, her nose running as she cried.

His hand caressed the aching, burning misery of her bottom, and he gave one of her cheeks a gentle squeeze that made her squeak.

“Gorgeous,” he murmured behind her.

The pure pleasure in his voice… it did things. That coiling in her belly, somehow the sound of that deep bass, it got it started again.

Worse, he noted it, the blunt tips of his fingers flicking open her sex, one of them drawing up through the entire length of her slit.

No, no, no.

But her evil, traitorous pussy was saying something entirely different.

His heavy steps came back around—only this time, he hadn’t returned to his seat.

His fingers submerged in the hair at the back of her head, and he yanked her up, the roots protesting at the bright pain of his grip. He forced her head up still more, until she could see his face.

He smiled down upon her, the bulge at his crotch huge, terrifying.

That’s not how your pussy thinks of it. No, not at all.

“I do so love a woman’s tears,” he murmured, his hand working at his crotch.

Then the huge penis sprung free, swinging side-to-side for a moment before rearing over her, the thick veins congested, bulging, the head of it so broad it took her breath away.

How had that been inside her?

It appeared it was about to be again—but it quickly became clear it was to be in a much different way.

The heavy, hot, silky shaft brushed against her lips.

“Kiss it,” he rumbled above her.

The penis smacked her face gently when she didn’t move.

The male musk of him was all around her, filling her nostrils. It wasn’t unpleasant, not at all, but it was… different.

No!

Her body seemed to react to that too.

“Kiss it, Yulia, or you’ll get more of the paddle.” His voice wasn’t cruel, but she had no doubt he meant every word.

Tears still pouring down her face, she pressed her trembling lips to the veined organ, leaving a tiny slick of wetness upon his member.

“Ah, your pretty tears look so good on my cock, girl. More.” He tapped her lips with it again. “Come on now. You’re going to be doing this a lot. So, you might as well get accustomed to it now.”

Shuddering, her tears now quivering sniffles, she obeyed, placing little soft kisses all along the hot, throbbing length of him. The wiry pubic hair tickled her nose and wet cheek when she got toward the thick base, but something made her keep going.

He caressed her hair. “So sweet. You can explore. I want you to.”

She kissed under his cock, the heavy weight of it resting upon her face, her forehead, as she even kissed down to the heavy, hairy scrotum. She’d never seen balls so large, and they both awed her and shocked her.

And yet, she had the urge to lick them too.

An urge he seemed to pick up on, somehow.

“My balls too, girl. Show them respect. Take care of them. Kiss… that’s it. More. Very good.”

Her head spun when he pulled his genitals away, the scent of him still strong, the salty taste upon her tongue making her mouth water.

“Since you’re so eager, I suppose it’s time for your lesson.” He fisted the huge cock before her, the head a mere hair’s breadth from the tip of her nose.

“This is what you’re going to focus on from now on, girl. This penis is your world, your purpose for being. Taking care of it, pleasuring it, worshiping it. You’re responsible for it.” He tapped her cheek with the head. “And if you fail? Well, there’s more of that wood that’s left your bottom in such an awful mess, isn’t there. Your choice.” The head of his penis, pressed at her lips. “Open up.”

“You, I ca—”

He plunged in though as soon as she’d opened her mouth. Still holding her by the hair, he pushed forward, until it hit the back of her mouth, triggering her gag reflex. She retched slightly, but he pulled back enough for it to subside.

Then he forced it in even more, and once again she gagged. He growled, seemingly unfazed, forcing her face down onto him again, and again. She gagged almost continuously, a thick line of saliva dripping from the corner of her mouth, her eyes watering so much, it was as if she were crying once more.

It was at that moment though, in her misery, and degradation, that she noted how hard her nipples had become, that the heat between her thighs was almost a raging inferno.

What was this brute doing to her?

“We’ll work on that,” he said, finally, leaving her throat alone, pleasure in the tone of his voice. “For now, just lick and suck it.”

She gladly did, sighing in relief, laving the broad head, then sucking hard and long on it, swirling her tongue against the slit. Deeper and deeper he forced her, slowly, her lips beginning to numb as she sucked hard each time her pulled back, relaxing as he plunged in once more. Mercifully though, he seemed intent on finding a good rhythm rather than making her gag on his penis more.

Faster and faster, he worked her, and she both blushed, and secretly reveled, in the knowledge that he was now in total control of her, that she was no longer sucking him—and instead, he was fucking her mouth.

Her clit actually spasmed at the thought, and she knew then that if he checked, he’d find her sex slick, and hot, and a total mess.

“Fuck… fuck,” he rumbled, his grip on her head growing almost crushing. The huge head lodged against the roof of her mouth then, and suddenly hot, salty semen flooded over her tongue, filling her, pulse after pulse, the shaft of his cock spasming, adding more and more of his seed. Some spilled from the corner of her mouth, and she coughed and sputtered as some slipped down her throat.

He held her by the hair as she coughed again, hating the way she felt like she’d almost… failed. Especially seeing the semen that had spilled on the floor below her.

“Don’t worry, girl.” He laughed softly as he finally let go of her hair, his fist pumping the length of his still half-erect penis as he backed up a step. “I’ll teach you. If that happens again, you’re going to be licking that up. You never waste my seed. But since it’s your first time, I’ll let it go.”

“Th-thank you.” She felt absurd saying it, but she wasn’t sure what else she was supposed to reply with.

Then he moved close, and she almost whimpered with the shame of it as he drew up locks of her hair, using them to wipe clean the wetness from his cock.

“That’s better,” he said, as if such a thing were entirely normal.

She almost wept with it, and yet… part of her was threatening to weep in quite a different way at the thought of such callous disregard for her, at the objectifying use of both her lips, and tongue, and throat, and even her hair.

She shouldn’t be reacting in the way she was, she knew that, but her body hadn’t seemed to want to cooperate.

Which was becoming distressingly common, of late.

Whatever he was doing to her, it was progressing, and accelerating, and she both hated it, and couldn’t deny an almost sick fascination with it too.

She was more than just Jon’s prisoner.

It was becoming quite clear… she was becoming his plaything, too.

Then the chains holding her arms up were unsnapped from the D-ring, and he let them down.

She almost moaned with the relief of having the tension removed from her shoulders. They throbbed with the memory of it though.

Slipping the arm binder off next, he allowed her to return fully upright. She rubbed her shoulders, unable to meet his gaze, the shame of her utter debasement too much for her at that moment.

Then he lifted her chin, taking hold of her upper arm again as he stared into her eyes.

“Come with me. Time to get you cleaned up. We’ve got an exam to conduct.”

Exam?

Oh no…