2. Chapter 2
Chapter 2
Annie
I balance my weight on the balls of my feet as I walk carefully on the broken cobblestones, roots and grass sticking out through the cracks. Shivers run through me as my eyes dart around what seems to be an old graveyard, slumbering in the gloom of night. An abandoned building rises amidst the broken tombstones, old vines coiling upwards toward a semblance of a bell tower.
Doreen dropped me off not too far away, on a dirt road that rattled her SUV’s joints, but the minute I stepped through the iron gates the engine revved. I looked back and squinted at the headlights as she pulled away, a cloud of dust rising behind the car as she left me here, in the middle of nowhere. I might be able to find my way back in the light of day despite all the twists and turns in the road and all the thickets, but in the dead of night I don’t stand a chance. The abandoned church in front of me is my only hope for a shelter.
The place feels abandoned, the doors are heavy but they seem to have been well tended to over the years. I have to lean all of my weight onto them in order to push them open. A creak fills the cavernous space, the flap of wings fading up into the bell tower. I take a shaky breath, my exhale misting the air in front of me. It was a pleasant May night back in town, but in the depths of the woods, and now within the stone walls of the old church, the air is biting.
I walk in, rubbing my cold arms and gritting my teeth, forcing myself to walk further down the empty nave, looking left and right at the old wooden pews. The atmosphere is so eerie, that I’m sure the place is haunted. All of my instincts scream for me to turn around, abandon the whole plan, but Doreen made it clear Carlton would only show himself if I followed her instructions to a T.
Namely, I was to wear a little white silk dress that hit just at the middle of my thighs. With no bra underneath, my hard nipples pierce the white fabric, and my naked, freshly shaved pussy tightens under my skirt from the chill. I wasn’t allowed to wear panties. The white is to express my purity, to showcase me as a virgin, offering myself to be ravaged, to be consumed and turned into a whore by the man of my choice.
The price to Doreen will be paid at the end of the ritual.
A golden mask encrusted with emeralds and sapphires covers half of my face, the glitter distracting from any features he might recognize—hardly possible, given that I have a small face, and the mask is rather chunky. The cat-eye-shaped holes in it allow me a good look around, and I must admit it doesn’t hang as heavy on my face as I thought it would before Doreen fastened it behind my head, under my freshly dyed hair. I went for a chocolate shade that shines in the light—an extra way to make sure that Carlton doesn’t recognize me by my mousy brown hair.
The further I walk down the nave, the more it feels like I’m heading down a black hole that’s about to swallow me. There’s no sound beyond the soft whistle of the breeze through the cracks in the walls, and the suspicious flap of wings high in the bell tower .
I slow down, fear stinging my heart like barbed wire, and the girls’ warnings echo in my head. What if Doreen really did fuck with me? What if she brought me here to be gagged and stuffed into a van, to be taken to some place where no one would ever find me? Human trafficking comes to mind for the first time.
It should have occurred to me earlier. I’m not from an important family like everybody else at Norton King’s. I’m one of the very few people there on a scholarship. The only family I have nearby is Aunt Rita, and it’s not like she could do anything to save me, as desperate as she’d be to do so. As much as Doreen answers to Micah—
“Lolita.”
I freeze in place.
The code name.
That voice.
It’s what we agreed that Carlton would call me once he ascertained that all his conditions had been fulfilled, and he decided to show himself. I spin around to watch him approach from the entrance of the church. Has he been behind me this entire time ?
I open my mouth to ask, my heart hammering in my chest, but I remember I’m not allowed to speak. Moans to express pleasure and cries of pain are okay, depending on what he decides to do to my body, but if he hears me talk, there’s a good chance he’ll recognize my voice.
He approaches like a large shadow, the outline of his build growing in the moonlight filtering through the windows. I swallow hard as he stops in front of me, closer than he’s ever been since that night months ago. He’s wearing a mask, too, but I’d recognize him even blindfolded, not just by the sound of his voice, but by his scent. I breathe it in deeply, filling my lungs with it. His scent seeped into my brain when he cradled me away from danger, and it’s the drug that puts me back to sleep every time the nightmares come.
I look greedily over his all-white mask with the rigid features that remind me starkly of the Halloween movies. A strand of light brown hair falls over his forehead, but his eyes are like coals behind the holes in the mask. They hold nothing of the fire he looked at me with every time he caught me staring, or the annoyance at knowing how I craved him .
His gaze rakes down my body in an appraising way, a low, deliciously masculine sound escaping his large chest in approval. I squeeze my thighs together and the tips of my feet angle inward, true to the look of the shy virgin he asked for.
It seems this is what he’s into.
Things are going to take a dark turn for me. Doreen warned me of that, even though she didn’t need to. I’ve known it ever since I ventured to send pics and videos of my body writhing on sex toys in the secret chat rooms he shares with the other jocks. I thought nothing could equal the exhilaration it gave me knowing he’d be watching, probably while jacking off. But now the exhilaration is unbearable. I thought I could handle it, but now I realize I might not be able to, not with him towering over me in that black shirt and white mask like some kind of satanic priest. A super hot priest.
He keeps inspecting me with those coal-like eyes, embers glowing in them. I can feel that he likes what he sees. He reaches out and grabs my arm. I lower my head, the waves of my freshly dyed hair falling over the sides of my face to obscure it, even though the mask does most of the heavy lifting. My skin heats at the touch of his gloved hand.
This is the first time he’s touched me since the mayhem. I expect him to be rough, given the context, but his thumb gently strokes my skin. He steps closer into me, taking his time to inhale my scent. My heart beats so fast that my entire body shakes. Doreen and I prepared for this, which is why I’m wearing Miss Dior instead of my usual Desert Rose to cover my natural scent, but it still feels like a predator is scenting me while I’m playing dead.
But then he draws back and steps in front of me to lead the way, pulling me along by my arm, leading me up the dais to the doors of the altar. He pushes them open with his hand, letting me walk inside first before following.
My knees angle inward, and I cross one arm over my chest to rub the place where he gripped my other one. There’s more light in here, making me squint, even though the large windows are positioned high above us. Candles line the circular walls, wax dripping thickly onto their wrought iron supports, their flames licking the walls and enhancing the atmosphere .
From the corner of my eye, I catch movement to the side. I jerk back, realizing that the hooded, cloaked figures sitting in high-backed chairs are actually people and not statues, as I originally thought. There are seven chairs and six hooded figures, with one other chair in the middle of the half-moon circle they form around it. The chair is positioned to face them, its back to the entrance, its legs bolted to the floor.
My shoulders angle forward, doubt seeping into my bloodstream.
What have I gotten myself into?
No, I can’t let second thoughts creep in, not now. I’m too far down the highway to hell anyway. My back heats up as I feel Carlton’s large presence behind me.
“Walk over and sit down,” he commands, causing the finest hairs on the back of my neck to stand on end. His voice, seductive and menacing at the same time, gives me the jitters. I wanted this badly, but I never stopped to think if my poor heart would be able to cope with the cocktail of anxiety and excitement.
I do as told, my naked knees shaking. The cloaks ripple on some of the figures, and some groan in anticipation behind their masks. They’re about to watch a virgin get debased, and they’re here for it. As for Carlton? It’s no secret he’s raised rough fucking to the level of fine art. Yet from what I’ve seen in the group chats, he doesn’t usually wreck virgins.
He prefers girls with experience, girls who often enjoy fucking multiple men, and initiates them into the dirtiest practices. What he’s about to do with me isn’t exactly his specialty, but I have one thing in common with all the other girls—I’m paying for it. Doreen explained the payment is Carlton’s way of making sure no woman is forced into anything, and that they really want this. Badly. It’s not about the money to him, or to the people in hoods and masks. They’re among the richest people on earth.
The blackness of their masks is the most eerie thing, because it seems to swallow their faces. Especially after I’ve sat down and two of them stand up, walk over in their rippling robes, and crouch down to where my feet are. Each of them grips one ankle, and slides my shoes off. My toenails are painted red, just as Doreen specified. I don’t know why they wanted me to wear heels if they were going to remove them anyway and tie leather cuffs around my ankles, then secure them tightly with the buckle. Probably another way to test my resolve of having Carlton savagely take my virginity.
I pull a little to see how much they’ll give. They don’t at all. Leather gloves stroke my arms from behind, leaving puckers of both delight and anxiousness in their wake. I lean my head back with a sigh, dangerously close to using my voice.
It’s Carlton.
But the sensation disappears when he yanks me back by my arms, and ice hits my spine. The flimsy satin dress isn’t nearly enough to protect me from the sting of the metal chair as my wrists are pulled behind me, and the same kind of leather cuffs wrap around them. My shoulders scream as Carlton secures the binds, and the two men who tied my ankles retreat backwards to their seats like floating demons, leaving me to face them with my legs apart and my hands tied back.
Carlton’s large hands rest on my aching shoulders, swallowing them completely. Groans escape the hooded figures, but not him. Not even as his hands move over my collarbones down my chest and under my satin dress to cup my breasts. He scoops them out of the dress, exposing them to the watching figures, and I go wet between my legs. He’s treating me like a slut, and I don’t know if I love it or hate it. There’s no in-between. Something moves under the hooded figures’ garments at the level of their lap.
They grabbed their cocks.
Fuck, the sensation.
If my nipples were already hard, now they’re aching. It’s incredible, all the things I feel as Carlton exposes me to other men like he’s about to ravish me for their entertainment. Or like he’s about to make a show of how he claims me as his own, making sure that all of these men know that I belong to him.
Of course, that’s just my fantasy.
Also, there’s no way of knowing there aren’t any women among the spectators, though I doubt it. There’s just too much testosterone in the air.
“You are here of your own free will,” Carlton ascertains. I’m not allowed to speak, so all I do is nod my head affirmatively.
“Coming here was the last act of free will you exercised. By your presence here, you lay down your right to choose for the whole duration of this ritual,” he continues, his voice carrying a heady depth. He waits for me to nod, and when I hesitate, his hands disappear from my breasts, leaving them to glow white in the candlelight.
He won’t continue if I don’t agree.
So I give another nod. When his hands don’t return, I nod vehemently.
Then his gloved palms are back on my skin. His fingers circle my hard nipples, teasing them. Arousal slicks the shaved lips of my pussy, and my buttocks clench as I seek friction against the metal chair. Suddenly, his tenderness is gone, and he pinches my nipples, causing me to hiss and arch my body. He tugs them forward, making me instinctively follow to ease the pain, but my wrists tied behind my back don’t give a single inch of space between my body and the back of the chair.
“God gives humans free will,” he continues in that same deep voice. “Devils take it. By buying your way into the ritual, you sell your soul to it. Do you confirm this is what you seek?”
Nod .
He bends down over my shoulder, his white mask now aligned with my face. He releases one of my breasts before he spreads one hand possessively over them, the other one slipping down between my legs. The white satin skirt is still draped over my pussy, but all he has to do is flip it up to expose me to everyone. My ankles work against their restraints.
“Tonight, you obey me,” he muses, each word more intoxicating than the last. My thighs flex at the expectation of him touching me down there. But what he does is bunch the folds of satin in his fist, and lift the dress so that my wet pussy is exposed to the hooded figures. They groan, candlelight flickering. Hands clench under the hoods. They seem impatient.
I’m put on display, yet more wetness slicks my pussy and I squirm against the chair, seeking friction. Holy shit. I liked presenting myself from my neck down in those group chats, but I thought it had to do with anonymity, not with exhibitionism. I never thought that being paraded as a virgin about to be debased would have this effect.
“You will do everything I tell you, go along with everything I put you through. There are no limits. You have no options. You are completely at my mercy.” He drapes the dress sideways over the top of my thigh, keeping me exposed as he slips two of those leathered fingers through my wetness. “Starting now, this pussy is completely mine to do with as I please.”
I let loose a whimper, my buttocks clenching to raise me into his touch. I need him to shove those fingers inside my virgin pussy, I need him to make it hurt, but all he does is gently stroke his fingers through my slit. My body must betray exactly what I want because he chuckles darkly in my ear, his thumb circling my clit gently. Almost lovingly. When he speaks again, he does it so low that I’m sure only I can hear him.
“You’re the one who’s been sending those videos in our chat rooms, yes?”
My shoulders tense, my wrists straining painfully against their binds.
No.
He can’t be aware of my true identity, because he wouldn’t have allowed this to happen. If Carlton Wilde ever made anything abundantly clear to Annie Jones, it’s that he’d never touch her with a ten-foot pole. He wouldn’t be doing this if he knew who I was. Still, he shouldn’t know that I’m the one who sent those videos either. I made sure they were untrackable.
“How—” I whisper, but he pinches my clit, reminding me I’m not allowed to speak.
“It’s what you get when you play with the big boys, LolaPuss.” He releases my clit and sinks one finger slowly but deeply inside my pussy. My walls clench at the invasion, my thighs tensing.
“You signed up for being used and abused because the reactions you got online weren’t enough,” he says. “But online you were safe. None of us would have gone after you. We require our women to specifically request being ruined. But when you do request the real life experience, the rules change. You agree to being ravaged and owned, but you’re also allowed your requirements, and when I saw them, I knew.”
He knew…but how much did he know?
He crouches down behind my chair, his thighs framing it. I grow slicker as I watch the black fabric mold the muscles of his thighs. I can’t help but moan as he sinks his finger deeper, then pulls back. I jerk my hips forward, needing to impale myself on it, and he laughs in my ear .
“I know, Lolita. You want to be fingered deep and hard. But we wouldn’t want to ruin your virginity too soon and spoil all the fun for our spectators, would we?” He drags his finger up, rubbing the slickness on my clit. “Don’t worry. By the time I’m through with you, my cock will be smeared with the blood of your purity. It will hurt so good.” He plays faster with my clit, and my whole body starts to shake.
“Only there’s nothing pure about you except your body, is there?” he continues, his voice increasing my excitement. I lean my head back against the chair, leveraging my weight against it so I can raise my hips into his touch.
The hooded spectators grow restless, their groans muffled behind their dark masks.
Fuck, how it turns me on to be tied to a chair and pleasured in front of them, my tits glistening with the sweat of excitement. I push the balls of my feet against the ground, my thighs flexing as I move into Carlton’s teasing fingers, a smile spreading over my face.
This is all I’ve ever wanted.
I didn’t think it would make me so crazy horny to have it happen in a church, in front of other people, but here we go. I ride Carlton’s teasing fingers faster and faster as the build-up becomes unbearable.
“Yes, show these filthy bastards how you come for a man for the first time,” he says in my ear, driving me over the edge.
I cry out as the orgasm shatters through me, my heart swelling—this is Carlton giving it to me. Satisfaction fills me to the brim as waves of pleasure wrack my body, causing me to buck and shake.
A low, deep laugh ripples in my ear as Carlton parts my pussy with two fingers.
“Let them see how this virgin cunt craves dick,” he says. “Just how badly do you want me to pound this cunt?”
I lick my lips and nod feverishly, showing him just how badly. My head is swimming, and I’m not thinking straight anymore. The worst part is that I don’t want to regain my faculties. This feels so damn good, and I crave more. It’s the best decision I ever made.
“Show me how much you want it. Earn it.” He comes to stand by the side of my chair, and my nipples harden painfully as he works on his pants. I lick my lips as the world reduces to the fact that Carlton Wilde is about to take his cock out for me. I forget all about being strapped to a chair with my tits out and my soaked pussy exposed. My entire body heats up, the warmth from the candles licking my skin.
The bastard must know exactly what this is doing to me because he takes his sweet time unbuckling his belt and opening his fly before he reveals a brutal erection.
I’m not the only one to gasp. It seems some of the hooded men have the same admiration for Carlton Wilde’s impressive cock. I watch, fascinated, as he strokes his gloved hand over his length, taking in the veins and tattoos that add extra grit to his size.
I bite into my lower lip, wanting him in my mouth. Craving him to force himself down my throat, to own me.
This isn’t the first time I’ve seen Carlton’s large dick. He posted some of these rituals that women pay for in the chat room, and even though it hurt like hell to watch him dip his dick into other cunts, I also couldn’t look away. I took heart remembering he has never had a virgin, not that I know of, and surely not during these rituals .
Which reminds me there must be cameras hidden in nooks and corners, and that this video will go online, too.
I wiggle against the metal chair, turned on by the idea. I’ll be able to watch myself get ravished by Carlton Wilde. The videos can’t be downloaded, the chat rooms are too well protected to let that happen, but I’ll try to work my magic.
His fist tightens around his girth, adding menace to his size as he grabs my hair and yanks my head back, bringing his dick to my mouth. I can smell myself on him since he used the cum I left on his gloved hand to stroke it, and he pushes it lengthwise over my mouth. It’s a brutal movement, but it doesn’t hurt. He’s being careful not to cause me any harm, and he’s obviously an expert at keeping the pain at a level that borders on pleasure.
“Have you ever sucked cock before?” he demands.
I shake my head no as much as his grip will allow.
“Is this the first dick you’re seeing up close in real life?” Then, pushing the engorged head through my lips, forcing them to open while keeping my head in place. “And don’t you even think about lying to me because I’ll know.”
I hesitate for all of two seconds I know it’s safe to do so.
I’m a virgin, and I’ve never sucked dick before, but I had some fun with my high school boyfriend back home. I used to give him hand jobs in his truck, and I enjoyed watching him come apart from it. I never let him touch my pussy because he was a horny fucker, and I knew deep down I didn’t want him to be the first, but my fantasies got bolder and dirtier.
But Carlton threatening that he’ll know if I’m lying is scary as hell. So I nod, because admitting seems like the safe thing to do. He never talked to any of the women in the other videos like this. He just took what he wanted from them; he fucked them like a mean bully, and made them come, shaking in the process. There’s something about this man that makes you want to serve him, to suck his dick and come in spasms while at it.
“Open wide,” he commands. I do as told, but his dick is still too big for my mouth, not to mention that the mask shifts uncomfortably on my face as his grip tightens in my hair.
My eyes tear up, and an appreciative sound escapes him as he pulls back only to sink in again to the root. His balls are at my chin and his dick so deep down my throat that I gag, but he seems to like it. He tugs my hair further back as he starts fucking my mouth, the hooded figures around letting out groans.
They must be jacking off under those cloaks as they’re watching me get face-fucked, my tits bouncing from the force and my wet pussy seeking friction gainst the chair. The sensation of metal on wet skin is astonishingly sexy. I’m horny beyond belief, writhing against it with my feet bound apart.
“That’s it, Lolita, earn your right to get fucked for the first time in front of these men.”
My eyes roll back, and I swear I’m about to come. I may not have done this before, but few people have read more smut than I have in their lives. Much of it is fantasy that I doubt can even be put into practice in real life, but the bestsellers are bestsellers for a reason. So I shield my teeth and clamp my cheeks on his girth, doing my best to create suction as he pushes in and out of my mouth.
All bets are off. The veneer of control he’s been keeping cracks. He loses it on my mouth, fucking it harder and harder until strings of warm, salty cum coats the back of my throat.
I choke on it, but he immediately pulls out, keeping my head in place as he releases his entire load on my face, his grip so tight on my hair that it makes me cry out.
A satanic ritual it must be, and I’m getting corrupted to my core.
I stare up at him with provocation, my eyes meeting his from behind the holes in our masks. It’s risky as fuck, yet I can’t help but ask the question silently, with my eyes—-have I earned the privilege of having my virgin pussy ravaged by his cock?
In response he bends down, the sinister white mask hovering over my golden one adorned with gems.
Shit, he’s going to recognize me. He’s looking too deeply into my eyes, and the fire in his coal-like stare is increasingly, scarily familiar. It’s the same one he had on his face every time he caught me ogling him with the hunger that’s been consuming me for so long.
“Yes, you’ve earned it, Lolita,” he says. My heart beats like a rabbit’s. Does he suspect something? He slowly comes down to one knee in front of my chair, between my legs, his upper body leaning into mine. It feels like watching a huge dark wave rushing over me, but what he does is reach around my chair to the back of it in what resembles an embrace.
I hold my breath, hyper aware of the muscles moving in his arms and his chest as he works on my wrists. He releases me from the bonds, relieving the strain on my shoulders too, and I’m allowed a few moments to rub my wrists as he goes to work on my ankles. Then he picks me up under my armpits as if I weigh next to nothing, and sets me down on my feet. I wobble on them, my legs shaking. Anticipation is choking me.
Carlton steps behind me and waits.
Why is he waiting?
I breathe faster. Not knowing what to expect is killing me .
Maybe he’s showcasing me to the hooded men, allowing them a good view of the strings of cum on the lower part of my face and my naked tits. The dress has fallen to cover my pussy again, but I can still feel the figures’ hungry gazes at that level, surely thinking about the moment they’ll get their turn.
Carlton’s hands slide down my arms, as gently as they did at the beginning, but I brace myself for him to become brusque any moment. True to what seems to be his pattern, he grabs my wrists and yanks my hands behind my back.
Metal snaps on them.
I gasp, realizing he just tightened real handcuffs around my wrists.
The metal bites into my skin as he keeps a grip on them with one hand and splays the other on my back, pushing me forward.
I’m shaking all over as I realize what’s going to happen. My hair falls to the sides of my face, but once I’m bent at a ninety degree angle, he reaches over and pulls my hair back, draping it over one shoulder.
“Do you want to watch your virginity being taken?” he asks, his rich baritone almost like a caress .
Licking my lips, I nod, and one of the hooded figures snaps his fingers. A low hum fills the altar as a large screen emerges from the back wall, right above the hooded figures’ heads. It lights up to reveal me bent over, a brutally muscular shadow in black behind me, wearing a rigid white mask with cruel edges for features.
Carlton flips my dress up over my lower back to expose my pussy and ass to him, and places his engorged cock at my entrance. Good God, how can he still be so hard after he came all over my face just a minute ago?
I suck in a deep breath as he pushes the engorged head the first few inches in, keeping me steady with a grip on my bundled wrists. I instinctively jerk forward, but his grip clamps down, pulling me back onto his cock.
“Don’t worry, Lolita, you’re going to know pleasure. But the way to it is paved with pain.” It’s both a promise and a threat, and it sends tingles over my skin. “It’s the price you have to pay,” he says as he goes deeper, his girth parting me up like a goddamn rifle. I let out the air from my lungs in a series of short breaths to put up with the pain of him filling me. It’s like red iron splitting me open, but I don’t want him to stop.
Carlton bends down over my back, pulling on my wrists so that I slide further down his cock. It’s incredible how my body responds with more wetness despite the ache and the anxiety. They go hand in hand in completely unexpected ways. It’s as if my pussy wants to swallow him whole.
“One would think all those toys would have prepared you for this,” he says, close enough to my ear that only I can hear him. It’s strange how his mask doesn’t muffle his voice the way the masks do for our spectators, but when his breath touches the shell of my ear, I realize there must be a slit between the mask’s white lips.
My eyelids hood my eyes, my skin puckering at the pleasure of his breath misting my skin.
“No one here knows who you are, Lolita. But I do.”
My eyes shoot open.
No, it can’t be.
“You’ve been sliding into my DMs before you inserted yourself into the group chats. You must be really good with technology. A horny little virgin who wanted to play with the big boys.”
He straightens up, grabs my hair, adding to his rough hold on my wrists, and rams his dick so hard into me that I cry out. He pulls back and does it again, then again. The force should send me bouncing forward, but he keeps me in place with his hold. He fucks me vigorously, my asscheeks jittering with every time he slams into me, his thighs rock hard against the naked backs of my legs. He fills me to the brim, but even though he’s basically fucking my brains out, my eyes fly up to the screen above the hooded figures, many of whom are now jacking off furiously under their garments.
It hits me that he’s doing this without protection. He’s always used protection before in the videos he uploaded to the chats. The first thing he did was put on a condom. Delight pools around my heart as I think that maybe he lost control because of me, that I made him lose it, even though his mask makes it impossible to read his face.
Not that I’ve been very successful before. Carlton is a master at schooling his expression for people to see what he wants them to. If you can read Micah’s unhinged nature on his face, or Sade’s innate violence, Carlton is intriguing because you never know what to expect from him. Big and covered in tattoos, he can lead a horde of barbarians, or he can put on an expensive suit and be the most fawned over bachelor at an opulent ball. The million dollar smile that he displayed at the engagement party comes to mind, and my treacherous pussy creams harder. So hard that slick sounds now fill the altar, but that could be the blood of my virginity for all I know. Yet the traces must be faint because the camera doesn’t catch them.
Carlton growls with a satisfaction that raises goosebumps along my flesh. It travels through my skin, setting all of my nerve endings on fire. His fucking scrambles my thoughts, pounding into the slickness between my legs, and I have no chance of resisting the pleasure. It spreads from where he slams into me to the rest of my body, taking over me vertiginously. My eyes roll back in their sockets, and I release a long moan that gives away just how much I’m enjoying this .
He releases my handcuffs only to wrap his large gloved hand around my forearms, tugging harder on my hair as his girth swells inside me. His cock pulses as he fills me with his cum, and I can’t believe this is happening. I can understand why he didn’t use protection against sexually transmitted diseases—-not only was I a virgin, but Doreen had my blood work done at a private lab that Carlton owns. But an unwanted pregnancy can still occur, and I can’t believe that someone of his caliber isn’t thinking about that.
In fact, he doesn’t seem to be thinking at all as he empties himself inside me, pumping like his life depends on it. I’ve grown used to the pain, and watching myself get ravaged by a brute with a tattooed cock propels the pleasure to new heights. I abandon myself to his control entirely.
That is, after all, the whole idea behind this ritual. Carlton having utter and full control over me.
Breathing heavily, he eases himself out of my pussy, his warm cum leaking out and trickling down the back of my legs. Carlton’s groan tells me he loves watching that happen but, next thing I know, he yanks me back. I stumble against the chair and plop down onto it, my ass slapping against metal.
Tucking his still semi-hard cock in, he positions himself between my legs just to kick them apart. I didn’t expect this kind of treatment, not when he took so much pleasure from me—more than he thought he would. I can feel it.
His black shirt pulls over his muscles as he straightens the gloves on his hands. Everything about him states that he means business. Those eyes rake down to my pussy like coals on fire, making me want to squirm, but I know that’s not what he wants. He moves out of the way to enable the hooded figures to get a good look at his work, now that he’s done with me.
This is the part where I pay the price.
A knot forms in my sore throat.
This was the deal. Carlton would take my virginity, but then all the others get to soil me in any way they want. My ass is the only thing that’s off the table, since my body has already been put through a lot of strain, and everyone knew that would be the case. But my mouth and pussy are fair game, the two holes that Carlton has already filled with his cum.
I sit here with my legs spread and my hands cuffed behind my back, increasingly aware of his cum leaking out of my pussy. He reaches down to flip my skirt up and show it to everyone.
Hisses ripple through the semicircle of hooded men sitting in front of us, just under the screen where I can see myself clearly. A virgin in a ravaged white dress, used and soiled. A virgin, offered to them like a sacrifice.
One of the hooded figures stands up, the candles flickering as he ambles over. Intimidated by that void-like black mask, I drop my gaze. He stops a few feet away, taking in the sight of me. He mumbles something, then makes to step between my legs. I stiffen, pushing my bound arms against the back of the chair but, to my surprise, Carlton grabs his arm.
“That’s close enough.”
I stop breathing.
Did he just prevent one of his fellow ritual participants from cashing in the price he was promised ?
The black mask angles toward Carlton, and a low murmur travels among the others. A draft runs through the candle flames as more of them stand up.
“We should give her a few minutes,” Carlton says. “She’s exhausted. I went rough on her.”
“Oh, I saw that,” the figure states, his mask dampening the sound of his voice. “That’s the whole idea, isn’t it? We fuck them raw. We subdue them. We strip away the virgin, peel the fake layers off until the whore is revealed. And this is where she becomes a whore. After all, what kind of woman chooses to get fucked like a bitch in heat, having her pussy pounded in front of a bunch of perverts?”
“I wasn’t aware that’s what we were doing. I thought we were making women’s dreams come true. Safely, and at a fair price.”
“She came all over that huge tattooed cock of yours even though you’re way too big for her, and this was her first time. It would be a shame to let that kind of talent go to waste, don’t you think?”
“Let him have the soiled goods, Master of Ceremonies,” another man urges from the circle behind. The figure now standing in front of me with Carlton’s leather-covered hand wrapped around his arm obviously feels confident that Carlton can’t actually stop him from getting what he wants. He’s sure the others have his back.
So he takes a step closer, but Carlton’s hand tightens on him, the leather glove creaking as it strains over his knuckles.
My heart skips a beat.
“I’m going to shove my dick balls-deep into that small mouth and fuck it until her lips bleed,” the figure declares, defying Carlton, his voice dripping with maliciousness.
“Holy shit,” I cry out, fear getting the better of me. When I signed up for this, I didn’t realize how much it would mortify me for other men to treat me the way I wanted Carlton to treat me.
But now I just broke one of the rules, and Carlton heard my voice.
His masked face snaps to me, his eyes narrowing behind it. That familiar burn flares in them. Shit. He knows. He just realized exactly who I am.
His hand falls off the hooded man, who advances toward me .
It’s no secret Carlton never liked me, and I’m pretty sure right now he thinks that I deserve what’s coming at me. If it wasn’t clear to me how this group thinks about women before the hooded bastard stated it loud and clear, it sure is now.
“Force the whore’s mouth open, Master of Ceremonies,” the hooded bastard commands. I can hear the sadism in his voice, the pleasure he takes knowing he’ll get to do this against my will.
Carlton steps closer to the side of my chair, but I don’t look at him. I keep my eyes down and my jaw locked, shaking like I’ve been dunked into ice water. Funny thing is, I don’t even want to cry. I want to laugh, thinking this must feel kind of rapey to Carlton—the irony. He wouldn’t give me his cock willingly, so I went behind his back to get it. I bought my way into his pants.
And this is the price I’m going to pay.
The hooded figure is now so close between my legs that his cloak touches my pussy. Gloved hands move down the cloak, fisting it and starting to pull up.
“I’m gonna put so much cum in your mouth,” he announces sadistically .
Carlton draws nearer, caging me between the two of them, one in front and one to the side. I can’t stop shaking, realizing my predicament, but my brain refuses to panic because it’s no use. I don’t have a way out. I’m trapped. The man of my dreams is going to clamp one of those large hands on the back of my neck to keep me steady, then force my jaw open with the other to let this sadistic asshole use my mouth. He’s going to watch him do it, watch him take delight in my punishment because I used the ritual to get him to fuck me.
I watch in horror as the man’s cloak rises to the level of his crotch. His excitement at the prospect of forcing his dick on me is everywhere. I don’t need to see him to feel it. I scrunch my eyes shut, steeling myself against what’s about to happen, but then Carlton’s voice thunders in the cavernous room.
“This is wrong. It isn’t how we do things. She wants to back out, she gets to back out, period.” Then, after a short break, “We don’t force women, not for real. We only fulfill their fantasies.”
The man in front of me laughs, and even though I’m not looking, I know he’s still fumbling with his cloak .
“She agreed to pay the price knowing exactly what it was. If backing out after receiving what they come for becomes an option, how many do you think will take it?”
“You know what happens if she doesn’t pay, Master of Ceremonies,” another man warns from the circle. The one in front of me laughs spitefully.
“Yeah, you do,” he emphasizes.
I crack my eyes open to see him push his dark face into Carlton’s. He enjoys saying the next words as if they’re honey on his tongue. “She gets dropped naked on campus with the cum of half a dozen men all over her. Remember that?”
Carlton’s white mask stares down into the other man’s void-black one like a movie villain, his whole body rigid.
“Make one move to touch her, and I’ll rip you apart.” His voice is low but ice-cold.
I stop breathing.
Did he just threaten one of the ritual members because of me? Knowing full well who I am? Because even though he hasn’t said anything, he clearly knows it’s me behind the mask .
Tension mounts in the cavernous altar, candles flickering. The screen on the back wall goes black.
“You wouldn’t dare,” the guy in front of me says through his teeth. He’s seething. No one else makes a sound, yet everyone’s attention weighs on us.
The deadly kind of attention.
The pressure is smothering as the two masks face each other like good and evil—or rather like two sides of evil.
After long moments during which I hold my breath, the void-dark mask tears itself away from Carlton and focuses on me.
Dread tightens my muscles, my shoulders pulling back, my arms restrained behind me. I shake my head no, afraid of more than just his touch. I can almost feel his sneer, his cocksure maliciousness as he lifts his garment. But just a second before he can reveal himself to me, Carlton flashes behind him like the lick of a shadow.
I blink, staggered by how fast he moved. How can someone with his bulk be so agile? I hardly get to even breathe before he grabs the hooded man’s wrist and twists his arm, causing him to scream in pain. Carlton bends the guy over before a sickening crack follows. The other man wails in pain. The sound would wrench at my gut if the bastard hadn’t just tried to rape my mouth.
For a second I think that maybe that’s it, that Carlton taught him the lesson he meant to teach, and now he’ll let him go. Instead what he does is grab the man’s other arm and tear it behind his back, too. Nausea sucks my stomach away at the resulting crack, and the rest of the men rise from their seats.
“You stay where you fucking are if you don’t want to be the next,” Carlton warns, and all of them freeze in place. Then he kicks the trapped guy’s feet from under him, forcing him to his knees.
“I told you that I’d tear you to fucking pieces if you make a single move to touch her,” he growls, and pulls on the guy’s arm so hard that crack after crack rips through the room. The guy screams like he’s being skinned alive, throwing his head back. The hood falls off, revealing a head of closely cropped dark curls before Carlton rips the mask off his face and uses his control over the man’s broken arms to force him into a twisted position so I can get a good look at him .
“Now she knows who you are,” he says as I stare wide-eyed into Roy McMarlon’s face.
I’m in shock. Of all the people on campus, Roy is the last person you’d expect to be part of a circle like this. He’s the perfect golden boy, who always has a smile in place. He’s usually nice to everybody, and I might have even liked him if he hadn’t always been overly concerned with his looks. You’d find him every morning at the gym, and the way he’d always sweep his hand through his hair to flex his bicep kind of got on my nerves. Now I know why.
I stare as those charming features twist in pain. Carlton yanks him straight and brings his white mask close to his ear.
“This is the last time you lay eyes on her,” he says through what I know are gritted teeth. “I suggest you leave Norton King’s and this town. You have three fucking days to get as far away as possible. If I see you again, you’ll wish you were never fucking born.”
He shoves Roy face-down to the floor. Everything inside me cringes at the way his limbs twist and at the pure agony that his face expresses. I realize that I’ve closed my legs and pressed them together, my arms straining against the cuffs. All I want is to get out here, run away and never look back.
My brain is trying to compute how Carlton ended up defending me in front of these people, and I’m starting to panic that he might end up cornered, sealing both our fates. The others are heading toward him now, large and menacing. Carlton is big, but still, there’s only one of him and five of them. Everything about them exudes readiness to challenge the Heathen King now standing between me and them.
The guy who reaches Carlton first is as large as him but, it turns out, not as agile. He raises a huge fist but he’s slow to punch, and Carlton easily side-steps him. He hooks an arm expertly around the guy’s bicep and twists it behind his back.
My jaw drops.
I knew he was capable of incredible things in combat, but to subdue a guy as large as himself within seconds is another level. The man gives out a cry behind his mask before Carlton shoves him to the ground, placing his foot on his back and keeping him there. The guy struggles, but he doesn’t stand a chance when Carlton flexes his thigh and pins him to the ground.
The others stop, poised to attack, but more careful about it now. I can’t read their reactions with their masks still on, but what just happened sure prompted them to reevaluate their decision to attack. No one breathes, the wails of the injured men being the only sound, their pained noises swooping around the altar like doomed souls screaming from the cauldrons of hell.
Everybody waits for someone else to make the first move, and Carlton looses a deep, inviting laugh.
“Anybody else care to challenge my claim on the virgin?”
After a moment’s hesitation, some of the hooded figures step back while others remain in place, watching Carlton like snipers. Shivers run through me. They stare at him like he’s a jungle snake ready to snap at them, and he sure exudes the intention to do just that. He presses his weight on the guy under his foot, causing him to groan in pain as he steps over him and heads toward me, grabbing my upper arm. He lifts me up to my naked feet but, when I fail to balance my weight, he bends down and scoops me up in his arms.
The ground falls away from under me, the hisses all around us revealing that nobody else is happy about this. But Carlton doesn’t seem to care. He keeps his eyes on me, his mask close to mine—too close.
Wails and curses fall away behind us as Carlton kicks open the altar doors, and walks with me down the aisle.
If I had it in me, I’d laugh at the irony.
Isn’t this the perfect counter-representation of a wedding ritual? The woman walking in of her own accord into a cursed old church, getting her virginity brutally fucked out of her, her desecrater then carrying her out like a soiled offering to the material world.
Everything is upside down.
We emerge out into the chilly night, the air biting my skin. Carlton’s arms clamp down on me the way they did months ago, when he carried me away from the mayhem that’s been haunting my nightmares ever since. When he reaches his car—a big black SUV—he bends me over the hood, removes the handcuffs, then scoops me up again and sets me down into the passenger seat. He bangs the door shut, walking in front of the car to the driver’s side and removing his mask in the process.
Shame hits me at the sight of his face, his all-too-real face. I look away, through the side window, rubbing my tender wrists. The hooded figures hover between the tombstones but don’t dare get closer, the church rising behind them like a mausoleum of doom.
My new nightmare.
And, this time, the thought of Carlton won’t be saving me.
As the engine revs to life and the SUV starts down the dirt path snaking among the thickets, I know that the man in the white mask will haunt me from now on in a very different way.