Page 57 of Degradation

Gunther grabs my hair from behind, yanking my head back. With his other hand, he rips the nighty from my body, exposing me entirely.

“Touch yourself. I want to watch you play as you choke on me.”

I shut my eyes, I force back the tears, sliding my hand down between my thighs. I’m not wet. I’m not aroused and most of all, I’m more than aware of the fact thatheis still there, still in the room, still watching this.

“That’s it.” Gunther encourages. “Stick your fingers in, I want to hear how turned on you are.”

I do as I’m told, feeling the way my muscles give way, as I slide my own fingers in. it’s curious that even this hurts a little, even as I’m trying to do everything I can to ensure it doesn’t.

His dick is so far down my throat, I have to concentrate on breathing solely through my nose but the stench is enough to make me almost gaga. I can’t decide if this degradation is better or worse than him fucking me. At least this pain is manageable.

He thrusts away into me, and though he’s grunting and groaning, it doesn’t feel right.

He pulls out, shaking his cock and he frowns.

I don’t want to look at him, I don’t want to see his manky old dick.

He’s staring at it like it’s about to fall off.

And then his lips twist.

He tilts his head, and I swear I see it, the moment his eyes change, the moment he goes manic.

“Come here.” He says, not to me, to the guard.

I stiffen, shaking my head as my tears threaten to erupt.

“Please.” I gasp. I haven’t even done anything wrong. I did what he wanted, I did what he asked.

He grins more at me, that awful twisted fucking grin he has that I hate so much.

“Take her, hold her for me…”

I cry out, trying to move, trying to stop this but that monster is so damned quick. Too quick. He must have the devil in his pocket to be the size he is and yet be so bloody agile.

He grabs my neck, grabs my body, holding me down.

Gunther mutters something but I don’t catch what it is. He’s shaking his dick like he’s trying to wake it up. But he’s hard. I can see it. I could damned well feel it too when he was halfway down my throat.

He starts gurgling, saying words that make no sense, before his eyes snap to us. To me and how I’m being held.

“Not like that.” He snaps, pushing me, forcing me backwards, forcing my body to twist over so that my entire spine is stretched out. I’m on my knees. My legs are splayed but my back is nowpulled up and over with my arms holding me down, pined by one of his hands. Devin keeps his other around my throat, and he has my head right in his groin.

“Better.” My husband says, dragging his fingers all the way down from my cleavage to where my pussy is exposed and waiting for him. “Much better.”

He grabs his cock again, lines himself up and pushes into me.

I can’t keep the cries in. I can’t keep those pitiful sounds to myself.

Can Devin hear it? Can he see?

I shudder as a wave of revulsion creeps right up my spine.

Why does it hurt so much more than when my fingers were inside? Why does it always hurt this much? Surely, I should be used to it by now, my insides should be used to it.

My body is jerking, my tits are bouncing back and forth, as Gunther fucks me and yet, that doesn’t feel the most degrading part. That doesn’t feel the most shameful.

I look up, staring at that beast and he’s looking right back at me, holding my gaze, not even blinking.