“What are you doing?”
Threading his fingers through my hair, he shoves me forward. Bending me over the platform. My arms locked and spread out. I try to twist and kick my legs back but it’s useless.
“Don’t look away. Watch her. Watch what happens when a girl gives in.”
I shake my head, panic catching in my throat. But my eyes are locked—on the woman writhing in pleasure and pain. On the strangers ravaging her body.
“You’re sick,” I whisper.
His breath ghosts down my spine. “And you’re wet for it. Now, everyone is going to watch me eat your cunt.”
“No! Let me go!”
His hands slide down my sides to my hips, then to my ass, pulling my leggings down to my thighs. The cool air hits my skin, and the thong does little to hide me.
I don’t want this. I don’t want him.Please stop, I want to say. Please stop making me feel anything at all.
But when the word finally leaves my mouth, it’s barely a whisper, and I can’t tell if I’m begging him or myself.
“Please…”
“Fuck…you make it seem like I have a choice.” His tongue slides down my ass cheek, followed by gentle bites. He spreads my legs, dragging the thin strip of fabric to the side with a rough, impatient gesture. “Like I don’t already know the pathetic fucking sounds you make with my tongue buried inside your pussy.”
He sucks a mark into the skin at the top of my thigh.
“What? …What are you talking about?” He’s never done this before… We’ve never done this before. I pull against the restraints again, trying to twist my body to look at him. “What the hell are you talking about, Priest?!”
His hands tighten on my thighs, with a force that borders on pain.
“Shh.” His tongue slides along the crease between my legs. I squirm, and he slaps my ass hard enough to make me yelp, the sound drowned out by the moans and skin slapping happening on stage only a few feet away from me.
“Stop!” I feel his breath against my core as I struggle to close my thighs, but his hands stop me, forcing my legs apart.
“Listen to yourself. Your body doesn’t want me to stop, does it? You need me to keep going.”
My head is spinning, and I’m so fucking confused. Why is my body responding to him? Why am I letting him do this to me?
“Priest…” His name dies on a breathy moan as his tongue drags down my slit. “Fuck…”
He groans, his mouth sucking and licking. Teasing and tasting. His large palms holding me down, bent over the stage. Completely exposed to everyone here. My chest tightens and my breathing picks up. His thick finger begins to press into me, and I let out a low moan, my body tightening around the invasion.
“Fuck, you’re perfect.” His mouth barely leaving my core as he talks.
“Please, don’t do this to me…”
“I already told you, kitten. I can’t help myself.” His mouth latches onto my core again, sucking, licking, fucking. I moan as his tongue slides into me, his thumb teasing my clit. My ass grinds back against his face, seeking more friction.
I feel his smile against my skin, the wet slide of his tongue, the heat of his breath. He pulls me tighter to his mouth, his tongue thrusting in and out of me.
I don’t know what’s wrong with me.
My mind is scrambling between what’s happening and his words, that he already knows what I sound like with his mouth on my pussy…that’s impossible.
I start to protest again, when I see him reach for a cabinet beneath the stage platform. He pulls out a small package and unwraps a silver butt plug.
“No! No, no. Don’t even think about it, asshole!”
He ignores me as he brings his fingers up to the hem of my leggings, slipping them down my legs. I kick out, trying to fight him off, but it’s useless.
