Page 44 of Degradation

Gunther barks for the music to change and, as something new starts to play, he gets up and pads over to where one of the curvier slaves is being made to stay on all fours like she’s some sort of table.

I stay where I am, hoping to fade into the background.

He squats down, grabbing hold of one of her breasts that’s dangling free of the silly string dress they put her in. As he fondles her, she doesn’t react. She stays perfectly still. Two of his friends get up, grinning from ear to ear as they too squat beside her and start feeling parts of her.

“Great tits.” Gunther says. “Fine fucking tits.”

The woman keeps her face still. Keeps her expression locked down and I wonder if that will make him move on or make him want to do more to get a reaction.

He gives her breast a squeeze, a hard nasty one and he digs his nails right into her flesh.

She whimpers just enough to show he hurt her and he laughs before giving her a hard slap on her arse.

“There you go, bitch.” He says.

His friend looks at him for the permission, then slides his tunic aside and pushes himself into her. She shuts her eyes, wincing as he starts fucking her and Gunther gives her another slap on her arse as if in encouragement.

My heart seems to skip a beat. My adrenaline feels like it’s spiking.

This is happening, isn’t it. This night is turning into exactly what I imagined it would be.I look around, hearing the sound of more moans and I realise more of his friends are enjoying themselves now, are enjoying the slaves.

Most of them are simply playing, fondling. A few are being fucked. It all feels tame enough but that won’t sate my husband’s desires. I know any minute he’s going to sink into more barbarism. He’s going to need to.

“Wife.” Gunther bellows.

I jolt, snapping my head in his direction.

He’s still there, still with that same woman. His other mate is fucking her now. I guess the first had his fun and finished.

“Get over here.” Gunther orders.

I don’t want to do it. I want to run. I want to hide but I bury those thoughts and grab Gunther’s goblet that he left on the side.

“You look thirsty, husband.” I say, handing it to him.

He looks up at me in confusion before taking it and gulping down enough that it trickles either side of his mouth. He then shoves it back at me before grabbing my dress right around my neckline and pulling me to my knees.

I don’t know how I don’t spill the drink. Somehow, I manage to keep the contents inside.

“Her tits are better.” Gunther states.

“Nah, this woman has great fucking breasts.” His buddy laughs and I realise then how drunk he is.

Gunther shakes his head. “Show them.” He orders to me.

I balk, staring at him. He cannot be serious.

He grabs my dress, yanking the fabric enough that it rips and then he pulls it wide open, revealing my chest to everyone in the room.

“See.” He says, slapping my right breast to make it jolt. “Great breasts. Better breasts.”

His mate grins, before pulling the slave back. “Can your bitch do this?” He asks, squeezing the nipple and I cry out in shock as the poor woman squirts literal milk at us.

She’s lactating? That poor woman has a baby?

Gunther groans, shaking his head, sticking his tongue out as the man squirts more and more into his mouth.

I turn my face away, feeling like I’m going to puke.