Page 45 of Degradation

“What you looking at?” My husband snarls into my ear. “Tell me what has gotten your attention so much you dare to look at anything beyond your husband?”

I blanche, quickly turning back to him. “I’m sorry, I…”

He grabs my face, grabs my cheeks pulling me forward. “Suck.”

He pushes my face against the woman, against her poor bruised breast.

“Suck. Suck from the source.”

I don’t want to. I can’t imagine anything more fucking disgusting, but his friend grabs her, moves her, shoves her nipples into my face and squeezes again.

It’s warm. Slightly sweet. I hate that I know that. Hate that that is now something I’ll never forget. It trickles over my lips, down my chin, down further onto my own exposed breasts and Gunther sees it, he grins more and then he starts lapping away, licking it off me now.

He drags his lips up, grabs my mouth and shoves his tongue inside. I almost choke as he does it.

A noise behind us makes him stop. A cry makes everyone turn.

One of the slave men is curled up, is huddled up. A man stands over him, kicking, yelling, clearly losing his temper. Wecan all see his cock out, see it bouncing, half erect and he lashes out at the slave.

It’s the priest. The same priest who lashed me, who ‘purified me’ after my husband gave me to the guards.

I screw my face up, feeling a wave of hate before I collect myself, before I somehow manage to return my face to something akin to neutral.

“What is this?” Gunther asks, sounding more bored than concerned.

“Stupid fuck bit me.” The priest replies. “He should learn to keep his teeth in and his tongue out.”

“You want his teeth?” Gunther asks.

The priest opens his mouth to reply but Gunther has already raised his hand, summoning a guard.

To my horror, I realise it’s him, Magnus’ brother. He strolls over, towering over us all. How is it possible for a man to grow so big? How is that natural?

“My Lord?” The guard says, and his voice is so deep, so devoid of emotion I swear I whimper.

“You grew up in Oblivion didn’t you, tell me, Blake, what punishment is there for a slave that bites?”

The guard doesn’t react, those harsh, demon like features just stare down at the chained man. “That would depend upon his status…” He begins.

Gunther waves his hand dismissively like he doesn’t really care what anyone has to say.

“His teeth.” He spits. “I want his teeth. I want every single one. I’ll make a necklace of them. A pretty ivory necklace for my pretty little wife.”

Sweet lord. I couldn’t imagine anything worse than to be forced to wear such a thing.

No, I can. Havingmyteeth pulled, having them ripped from my mouth… I stumble back in horror, but Gunther grabs me, pinning my body against his as the guard begins to work away.

“Watch, wife.” He says. “Watch closely.”

I can’t help but feel like those words are a threat. That he’s planning to do this to me too if I ever bite him. Hell, he doesn’t even need to excuse, he’d probably do it just because he can.

The man screams, he bucks and her jerks, but the guard holds him in an iron-like grip, with just his left hand. And in his right, he’s twisting a dagger, cutting out every single molar, every canine, every tooth, letting them drop to the floor in a bloodied mess.

It doesn’t take long before all thirty-two are laying on the marble, leaving the man to practically choke on his own blood. His gums are a mangled mess. I can see the hollow gaps where his teeth were only moments ago. He gasps, spitting more and more blood as he rolls around in agony.

Gunther pushes me aside, drops to his knees and picks one tooth up and then another, studying them. “Such roots.” He whispers. “Such long, long roots, like a tree.”

I can’t tell if the room is enraptured by him or horrified. Everyone is staring, everyone is captivated.