Chapter 371- Master of this Place

Chapter 371: Chapter 371- Master of this Place

All six. Their pants open, their shafts in their fists, their hands moving in slow, synchronized rhythms. Their faces pressed against the stone, their eyes straining through the gaps, their breathing heavy and regular.

"Of course, she looks hot," one of them whispered. His hand moved faster. "Her pussy might be loose, though. The boss has been using her all week."

"Loose or not, I’m going to save money to purchase her at the auction," another said. His voice was thick, his eyes half-closed. "I want to fuck her. Just once. Just once is enough."

"Indeed," a third said, laughing quietly. "After the boss is done. When she’s sold. We pool our credits. Purchase her back. Take turns."

All six laughed.

The scout stood behind them. He looked at the six men, their cocks in their hands, their minds full of the woman inside, their loyalty reduced to a financial plan for buying used pussy. He spat. The glob hit the stone floor, wet and dismissive.

These bastards. Animals. Already thinking about the product while their master was trading and fucking right now. Planning to purchase the woman like she was livestock at a market, saving their coins for a turn at a hole the boss had already stretched.

He sighed.

He moved to the door.

The two door guards straightened. Their hands went to their weapons.

"It is important," the scout said.

He said it with the tone of a man who had run through a citadel, been shot at, and had six masturbating colleagues behind him. The tone carried weight. The guards looked at his face, at the sweat, at the wide eyes. They stepped aside.

He opened the doors.

The chamber was vast.

A bed dominated the center. A massive frame, carved from dark wood, draped in red silk and black fur. The candles were everywhere, their light painting the room in shades of amber and gold and the deep, warm shadow of intentional darkness. The floor was stone, covered in sections by rugs. The walls were hung with tapestries. The ceiling was vaulted.

On the bed, a woman was being destroyed.

She was thick. The kind of thick that belonged on a screen, the kind of body that actresses built through surgery and genetics and careful lighting. Her hips were wide, her ass enormous, the pale flesh marked with red handprints and welts. Her waist was narrow, exaggerating the curves above and below. Her tits were massive, the kind that required two hands each, the nipples clamped with metal clips connected by a chain. The clips bit into the stiff flesh, the nipples flattened beneath the metal, the skin around them dark and swollen.

Her hands were tied.

Above her head. The rope anchored to the bed frame, her wrists bound together, her fingers white. Her face was beautiful. Genuinely, objectively beautiful. The face of a woman who had been valued for her appearance since puberty and had been traded on it ever since. High cheekbones. Full lips. Dark eyes that were currently rolled so far back only the whites showed.

Her pussy was stuffed.

The cock inside her pulled out as the scout watched. The withdrawal was slow, wet, obscene. The shaft emerged inch by inch, and the scout’s breath caught.

The cock was wrong.

Not human-wrong. Monster-wrong. The shaft was covered in beads. Thick, rounded protrusions running along the length in concentric rings, each one the size of a marble, the skin between them dark and veined. The head was enormous, the crown flared, the urethra visible and leaking. The beads glistened with her fluid, each one catching the candlelight as it emerged from her swollen, stretched pussy.

The cock of something that ruined women.

He slammed back in.

PAAH

"HAAAAANGH"

Her scream filled the chamber. Her back arched, her enormous tits lifting, the chain between the clamps swinging, the metal biting deeper into her nipples. Her tongue came out, long and pink and trembling, her mouth open in a continuous, broken wail.

Her anal was filled too. A dildo, thick and black, the base visible between her enormous ass cheeks, the shaft buried deep. The dual penetration, the cock in her cunt and the dildo in her ass, made her body convulse with every thrust.

There was blood on the bed.

Near the rope. Near her tied hands. Old blood, dried brown, the evidence of resistance that had been overcome. She had been a virgin. A moment ago. Before the cock with beads had torn through her hymen and driven into her womb.

The scout’s eyes moved to the second man.

There was another man at her head.

His cock was in her mouth. The same bead-covered shaft, the same monstrous proportions, the head buried in her throat, her neck bulging around the girth. Her lips were stretched white around the base, her jaw distended, her cheeks hollowed with the suction of a woman whose mouth was being used as a second pussy.

The scout looked at the man at her pussy. Then at the man at her mouth.

Same face.

Same body. Same build, same jaw, same eyes, same scar on the left temple. Two identical men, both with the same beaded cock, both fucking the same woman from both ends.

The ability. The boss could separate his body into duplicates. Two, three, maybe more. Each one fully functional. Each one carrying the same cock. Each one capable of fucking independently.

Both duplicates spoke.

In unison. The same voice, the same words, the same timing, as if one brain controlled two mouths.

"Tell me," they said, their voices deep, controlled, the tone of a man who had been interrupted mid-fuck and was mildly curious about the interruption. "What are you doing here?"

The scout trembled.

"Reporting, master."

The duplicate at her mouth pulled back. His cock emerging from her throat, the beads dragging along her tongue, her gag reflex firing, spit pouring from her lips. He rubbed her throat with his palm, feeling the bulge, the swollen tissue where the beaded shaft had been.

"You have a better explanation for that," he said.

The scout swallowed.

"Indeed, master. I was here to report regarding the spider woman we have been chasing for quite a few days."

The duplicate at her pussy thrust. PAAH. The woman screamed again, her body jerking, the clamps on her nipples pulling, the chain swinging. The duplicate spoke over her scream.

"Oh, that bitch," he said. His hips maintained their rhythm, his cock driving into her in slow, deep strokes. "Yes, indeed. So you have got her."

PAAH PAAH

The woman moaned. Her tongue lolled, her eyes rolled, her enormous tits swayed between the two duplicates. The scout felt his own cock hardening. She was really a fuckable bitch, getting pounded by two copies of the master, both of them using her like a shared sleeve, their rhythm alternating so she was always full at one end or the other.

PAAH PAAH PAAH

"HAAANGH HNNNGH MMPH"

The scout was about to continue his report when the voice came.

Not from the bed.

From behind.

From the corner. From the dark. At a place not focused earlier, as everywhere people enjoy thick women being pounded.

"I see."