It could've been worse, she supposed.
Sylvianna was naked again, except for her fetters. Her collar was connected to her wrist cuffs by chains so she couldn't lower her hands past her waist. The perfect height for carrying a tray. A tray set with glasses of foul, red liquid.
These men, this brotherhood, were vampires. She knew. She'd worked with them. She'd worked
for
them... but she hadn't remembered there being
this
many.
Her initial count tonight had been seven, but more had entered by the time she'd been given her tray. Another two had entered by the time the tray had been emptied. More entered when she'd refilled it.
Sixteen.
Then three more had entered, just as one had tugged her into his lap and begun exploring her body with his hands, touching her all over except her breasts, sex and butt. Like he was purposefully avoiding overstepping a line.
As though any such line existed at this point.
Nineteen.
Had they all been brought here to see her? She would've asked Aron, except it seemed as though he was doing his best to keep her as far from him as he could. She was summoned from man to man, even to two of the three women.
Yet she was the only slave. The only one stripped bare. And she couldn't refuse any one of them because she'd promised. She'd promised Aron that she would do what he asked, and before leading her up here, he'd asked her to obey every order she heard tonight.
She'd been a stupid woman. A stupid, fickle woman, desperate to escape a situation without any thoughts of what could...
would...
come next.
She was trapped, now. Forever. It'd been a promise sealed in blood. She thought she was smarter than this.
"Stop," one male said to her now, as she crossed the room to replenish glasses that'd emptied. She halted where she stood and looked at the speaker. He was pale, with pale hair and pale eyes. A ghost. And young, with soft, sweet features. Pretty. But she didn't mistake him for being kind. She'd heard cruelty in that single word. "Set the tray aside and come sit in my lap, sweetness."
When she did, she felt the rigid hardness of his cock in his trousers. He pulled her up onto it so her sex caressed it. "Get it out. Start playing."
She'd felt him, yet when she pried him out of his clothes, he seemed twice the size. Uncut and throbbing. Throbbing for her.
She supposed she should've felt flattered.
Her hands worked him until the stiffness became readiness. She tried to prepare herself, but her reluctance kept her from succeeding.
She was a hunter, not a toy.
She didn't know why she tried clinging to dignity when it had long since been stripped from her.
"Nngh. Good, pet. Good. Now start licking it."
Again, reluctant, Sylvianna obeyed, slipping herself out of the pale man's lap and settling herself between his legs. One hand held his cock, the other his thigh as she lowered her mouth over his drooling head.
The man suddenly gripped her loose, white-blonde hair and wrenched her head back. Before she could wince, he hissed, "I said lick, not suck. Something wrong with your hearing, girl?"
"No, sir." Because that's what Aron had told her to address them as. Sir. She lowered her mouth again before he could slap her and began licking in earnest. Lick. Lick.
"That's it. Good girl. Stop using your hands. Play with your tits for me. No, rougher. Pinch. Just like that. Spread your legs. Farther. Now suck me. Mmf. Good slave. Suck me. Now tell me what you are. I hear you came up with a pretty little name for yourself. Tell me what it--No, don't stop sucking. Tell me with your mouth full."
"Fuck... pig..."
She wanted nothing more than to bite off his cock. To tear off every cock in the room. To hurt them as they'd hurt her. To humiliate them.
But she couldn't. When she went to shut her jaws together, something stopped her.
She'd promised Aron she'd be good.
Aron, who now ignored her.
The pale man's cock slid up along her tongue and pressed hard against the back of her mouth. She coughed, spluttered, but he gripped her hair and tugged her. Another inch slid into her. As it did, she felt something pressing at her arse. Her poor, abused arse.
The man behind her spat on her and, without further warning, pushed
hard
against her no longer tight little hole.
Push...
She whimpered.
Push...
She whined.
The dick slid into her in a single thrust. "Fuck, Sylvi. Still so tight..." Then he began using her like a broken in whore. "Lean back on me, darling, that's it. That's it. Ugh, fuck!"
It didn't take long before the man grunted as he came in her. He pulled out of her, wiped himself off on her naked flesh and walked away.
The cock in her mouth twitched suddenly. The ghost's hand tightened in her hair, dragging her throat more fully onto him. His load jetted down her throat, making her gag and splutter and drool.
"Filthy slut." He slapped her, then ran his thumb along her cheekbone. "Go on. Fuck off." He tugged her off his cock and pushed her back.
Then she was back on her feet and back to serving drinks as though it hadn't happened at all.
But she knew. She felt the bruising aches. Felt the cum dribbling down her leg and cooling in the air.
"Would my sir Aron like a drink?" she asked bitterly, coming to a stop in front of the man responsible for putting her here. The man she wanted nothing more than to see burn.
He rose and took her tray, giving it to the woman who'd been in his lap. When he looked back to Sylvi, he pushed her hair behind her ears. "I thank you Sylvi. I would. I think we all would." When he asked the question of the room, each and every one of them gave their assent. Eyes began to flicker red with thirst.
"You know how it goes, Sylvi. You promised to do as I asked. Get on that table." He nodded to the circular table in the middle of the room, empty but for the telling chains that foretold its purpose.
"Aron... No more." She wanted it to sound more of a command, equal to equal, but when her voice trembled, coming weak from a hoarse throat, she knew it only sounded like a feeble plea. "You've had your fun. I've done more than--"
"My darling, sweet Sylvi. You can go by your own power, or... not. I won't ask again. Get on the table."
"Aron--"
He took her by the throat and pulled her to his chest. His teeth sank into her neck and she felt the hot blood spill over her flesh. He wasn't biting just to feed. He was biting to cover her in the scent of her own blood.
They gathered around her like flies to a cadaver as Aron pulled and tugged and pushed her to the table. He sat on it first and lay back, then pulled her over him. "You promised me, Sylv. You belong to me now. I'm going to keep you forever. That's what you promised, isn't it?"
She couldn't remember. His hands gripped her hips and squeezed. She remembered. "Yes, sir. I belong to you. I promised."
To deny him was to burn. To refuse was to suffer.
"Good girl.
Good
girl. You did." He speared up into her cunt in a single stroke and groaned. It almost aroused her. Then began pistoning in and out of her. At first her whines and groans came as protests, but when someone's hand reached under her and began expertly tweaking her stiff little clit, she began to pulse with pleasure.
Aron's hands squeezed her arse. "Bind her."
"Aron..." But she'd promised. And this didn't feel awful...
"Get a ring gag on her."
A dozen hands were all over her. Her wrists remained chained to the front of her collar, but someone pulled her elbows back and bound them together behind her. Her hands stayed unmoving by her ribs. Someone else chained her collar to the head of the table so she couldn't sit up. Another secured her ankles to the corners of the table. She was bound to Aron, her arse presented, leaving her able to look ahead of her to the room.
Aron thrust all the way up into her humiliatingly slick cunt and gave a full-throated groan as he bumped against her cervix. She stayed silent, not even fighting the ring gag that was pushed between her teeth.
It was all over.
"Now, my darling," Aron purred up at her as she whimpered, "you're well presented to my guests. It bad manners, teasing them like that. Ask them to fill you. Ask them to fuck you."
She wailed through the gag.
"Oh, the gag doesn't matter. You don't need to make
too
much sense. And use your eyes. You always wore the best 'fuck me' eyes. Go on. Beg them. You promised."
She'd promised.
She turned her head and the first person she saw was a tall, broad-shouldered man stroking a cock proportionate to his figure. Not him... The second was no good, either. The third... She looked at him and pleaded.
Fill me. Fill me with your cock and your cum. Please. Please.
He laughed at her but he indulged. He used his fingers first, circling her arse, slick with cum. He slid two fingers in, curling then parting, thrusting in and out... When he added a third, Sylvi groaned as she began to feel stretched again. He fucked her harder with his hand than Aron's cock in her cunt then pulled out violently. He slapped her arse and pushed his cock into her gaping hole.
She screeched through her gag. He may not have been large but he was fierce, pistoning in and out of her arse with the force of a machine.