Page 38 of Degradation

She nods, biting her lip that’s split and is bleeding from all the cocks that have been shoved past them.

“Have you learned your lesson?”

She nods again, trembling more.

He smirks, pumping more, jerking his hips as he does. “One more to learn, I’d say.”

Watching a man jerk off has never bothered me. We all have needs, after all. But watching him, watching his little dick growing redder and redder, and hearing the way he grunts just a little as he does it… I keep my face neutral but as I scan the others, I can tell they feel the same as I do; it’s not respect we have for our leader right now, it’s disgust.

He picks up speed, he gasps, muttering so low no one can catch what he’s saying.

When he comes, he stoops over, like he’s too weak to hold himself up. His cock spits out the most pitiful amount of semen and it lands on her perfect tits, sullying them more.

She shuts her eyes briefly. She does her best to not react.

Gunther stares down at her, a look of utter contempt on his face.

And then he walks out, leaving her here. Leaving her completely alone and at the mercy of us jackals.

It would only take one, one flick of a match and this entire thing would go up in flames.

No one moves. No one speaks.

The girl is stupid enough to make a sound and that seems to break the ice. It shatters it.

Soren pounces, grabbing at her. Curtis drags him back.

Malik and I move to block the other men while Mace hollers for someone to get this bitch out of here.

It feels like a standoff as we wait, and thankfully two maids come rushing in. From the way the girl clings to them, I’d saythey’ve found her in a similar situation more than once before. They help her to stand, wrapping their arms around her like she’s not covered in all our come.

She wobbles as she walks but they’re quick to get her out of here as if they too recognise the danger we are.

As the door shuts, the room seems to erupt into laughter. Beers are passed out, but it doesn’t feel quite like a celebration, it feels like a relief. Like we’re all grateful we’re still alive.

“Still a wet fish.” Someone comments and he gets a rowdy response.

I let out a low breath, grabbing a drink, needing it now. I need to get the image of her out of my head. I need to forget how delicious her cunt looked, how damned tempting it was.

“He’s mad.” Lyndon whispers beside me. I glance at him, knowing exactly who he’s referring to.

Gunther is mad. And I don’t know what that means for us, for the Brethren, or for his pretty little wife either.

Pailtyn

Freezing cold water is thrown over me.

I’m shaking, trembling, fighting the very real need to just curl up and die already.

The maids wash me, they scrub at me while a priest of all things barks instructions, stating that I’m unclean. Unworthy. That I’m tainted and disgusting and full of sin.

But I didn’t do anything. I didn’t do a thing.

Those men did that to me. My husband gave me to them, he stood by and watched as they abused and degraded me. How now am I the one held responsible?

“Just as Jesus purged us of our sins, you too shall be purged.” The priest says, striking me back with something that makes me hiss.

It’s thorns. A whole damned whip made of them.