Mabon’s cock slides over my tongue. It rubs against my lips. Movement and friction and bliss. I try to suck on him, to do something, but pleasure has turned all my muscles to jelly. I’m slack jawed and drooling. While he is devouring my cock with skill. His tongue is hotter than a human’s, I swear, and it rasps over my cock with an explosion of sensation.
I’m not going to last long. I’m already ready to blow. My balls are tightening. The base of my spine is tingling.
I whine and buck up into his mouth. My cock slides down into his tight throat. He hums in appreciation, and the vibrations drive me wild.
I can’t see. I can’t hear. Every drop of blood has rushed to my cock. I’m a throbbing, needy mess. There is only desire and lust and ecstasy. Everything else is forgotten.
His cock works its way deeper into me. I’m choking and drooling and making every awful noise there is.
He pumps faster. Fucks my face harder. Sucks my cock with more pressure.
I can’t breathe. Not even through my nose. He is lodged too far down. My lungs constrict. My throat muscles spasm around him. He moans in pleasure around my cock. His pointed tongue dances around my slit.
I’ve been doing sex wrong my whole adult life. I had no idea it could feel like this. This is a profound revelation. Life changing.
I can feel my orgasm. Hovering. Waiting. A pot of water that is on the edge of boiling over. Any second now.
My lungs try to suck in a breath but only succeed in sucking in even more of Mabon’s cock. His hips fall still. He shudders. A noise of pure carnality fills the room. And that’s all I need.
My orgasm spills over. It pours over me, scalding hot. Burning everything. It consumes me. I buck and writhe. I scream but no sound comes out because Mabon is filling my vocal chords and pumping cum directly into my stomach.
Darkness whirls through my mind. Stars are calling. I’m floating in the void.
Slowly, I become aware of a heaving, rasping sound. I think that’s my lungs.
One by one, my senses come back online. I’m drenched in sweat. Panting like a steam train. My limbs are like wet noodles.
Mabon is sitting next to my hips. He is licking his lips. He looks down at me. His eyes are glowing.
“Delicious,” he purrs.
The bastard doesn’t look out of breath. Or any worse for wear. He looks perfect. Beautiful and dangerous. A nightmare and a dream.
His cold, slender hand cups my balls. I whimper. I’m too weak and spent to try to pull away from him. He gently rolls my balls in his palm, as if he is weighing them.
He flashes his deadly dimples at me.
“I think you will be able to give me more soon.”
A pathetic noise spills out of my swollen lips. His suggestion is both terrible and wonderful and everything in between.
Mabon pats the top of my sweaty head.
“Good boy,” he beams.
Mister Dinky twitches.
Maybe being a sex slave won’t be so bad?
Chapter nine
I’m in public in my absurd Princess Leia outfit again. Mabon has changed the tiny strips of silk to ones that match his eyes, but it’s basically the same costume. Nearly all of me is exposed. I look exactly like a sex slave. I mean, I guess the collar and chain give that away. Even so, being dressed like this is a humiliation like no other.
I would say that all the fey in this room are undressing me with their eyes, but I’m already undressed. So instead, they are feasting on the sight of my flesh and picturing all sorts of carnal depravity. I can see it in their expressions.
Mabon can clearly see it too, and it’s making him preen like the proudest peacock that ever lived. He is flicking his hair over his shoulder and smirking at everyone.
Heaven help me. I drop my gaze to my lap and try to pretend this isn’t happening. Or that it will end soon. But Mabon doesn’t seem as if he is planning to leave anytime in the near future. He looks very comfortable, sprawled back against his cushions. I’m sitting on identical cushions next to him and they are nowherenear as comfy as he is making out. Perhaps it’s years of practice. Or familiarity. Or the Hookah pipe he is holding elegantly in one long-fingered hand.
