by Nora Ash
His knuckles breached her entrance, and she gasped and tensed as her flesh stretched for him.
Marathín’s hand didn’t pause as he worked her, his fingers pumping in and out of her pussy as deep as he could go, pressing his knuckles all the way in. When his thumb caught on the rim he rotated his hand and let its pad rest against her swollen clit.
Selma jolted, her body spasming weakly as he tapped it, forcing pleasure into the already abused nerve endings.
“You know you’ll need to take it all, sweetness” he said, a devious smile gracing his lips. “But even so, you sure have taken your fill in the past few weeks, hmm? Remember when I needed to first open your pelvis with a speculum and masturbate you for an hour before you could take my fist? And you still passed out once the proper treatment began, like a dainty little virgin getting her first cock. And look at you now… so gorgeous, so needy to be stretched as wide as I can get you.”
He’d once made note of how well she responded to dirty talk. As she bucked against his fingers at his heated words she wasn’t entirely sure if he was taunting her, or if he was trying to make it easier for her to take him. Or perhaps he just enjoyed telling her all the filthy things his demonic mind conjured up.
Not that it mattered. His motivations were irrelevant—all Selma truly cared about was the heavy pressure between her legs.
She bit her lip as his thumb left her clit to press in against his palm, shaping his massive hand into a wedge that slowly, mercilessly forced its way into her pussy. The stretch of his knuckles had been enough to make her gasp and her channel spasm wantonly, despite the massive dildos she’d been riding for the past many days, but when his thumb breached her wet entrance, she couldn’t hold back a shrill keening.
It felt like being wrenched open by a force much too big and strong for her soft body, but her weeping channel allowed him to press in inch by agonizing inch, forcing her to spread wider than even her lust hazed mind wanted.
However, through her weak thrashing and soft cries, she still needed him to give her more, to continue the ruthless penetration until her pussy was stuffed full and the aching lust deep in her core finally quelled.
“That’s a good girl,” the demon cooed as he bent over her, his biceps flexing with the effort of slowly opening her up on his fist. “Nice and wide now. You want it as deep as it can get, don’t you? You want to feel me hold you at the very core of your being—to know that I am filling you up from the inside, making your weak little body submit the way it was made to do.”
Somewhere behind the resentment and minor trace of pain, behind her fear of what he was and what he’d done, her mind found perverse pleasure in his words, and the urge to take him fully was growing stronger for every second.
“Please, yes!” It was a breathless gasp, and her voice hitched when he shoved in the final bit, settling his huge fist in her quivering sheath. “Ooh!”
“Pretty little Breeder.” Marathín’s voice changed from the cooing taunts to a snarl, but Selma was way too focused on the impossible stretch from her pussy to care. She writhed on the bed, her hands clutching desperately at the sheets while her body fought to accommodate the intruder. Yet even as she struggled to take what he was forcing into her, she knew it was nothing like the first, horrible time he’d fisted her. This time, the pain was minimal, and though her breath came in short, pained gasps, the pleasure of being opened wide overrode everything else. She craved it.
“More!”
“Oh, I’ll give you more.” His amber eyes blazed, and she felt her pussy spasm as his fist pressed in deeper. The excruciatingly delicious pressure paused for a moment when he reached her pelvic bone, his eyes locking with hers as a wicked smile spread on his lips.
She knew what was coming. Her face contorted as she braced for the inevitable, tensing her body even as she tried to relax her vaginal muscles, but when he pressed against her pussy’s last resistance it helped little.
Dr. Hershey pushed in, nestling his fist deep behind her pelvic bone, and Selma screamed.
“You look so beautiful with my arm deep in your cunt, Breeder,” he said, a dark smirk playing on his full lips. “Is that the real reason you ran? So I would punish you like this?”
She could hardly see straight, the room blurring and swerving in her peripheral vision, but his darkened eyes held her gaze even through the overpowering sensation of having him so deep.
Selma gritted her teeth, wishing she could scream at him for what he’d done to Marie and the police officer who’d only tried to save her, and for making her crave this unbearable penetration, but all she could manage was to gasp for breath while her pussy convulsed around his wrist.
“You should have stayed with me.” His mouth set in a hard line. “You would have enjoyed getting bred—but now, I hope your new Master wrecks your little pussy every single time he mounts you. And I hope, when you scream underneath him and beg for mercy, you will remember how good it felt with me.”
“F-fuck!” she gasped in a failed attempt at telling him to go fuck himself, her anger with him piercing through even the insane lust and rough penetration as he taunted her.
“Fuck indeed.” With an eyebrow raised at her anger, he flexed his massive hand, making her flinch, and then started thrusting.
“Oh! G-ngh! N-yes!” The words were involuntary, as was her body’s arcing against the bedsheets, because all her mind could process was the relentless and complete ravaging of her trembling pussy. His fist pressed into her again and again, forcing her to accept the massive girth over and over until finally, her body gave in. She felt its surrender as a warm flood of liquid rushed from her center to coat his intruding hand, and then suddenly, blessedly, his thrusting hand no longer felt like a violation amid the pleasure. There was only red hot ecstasy and the sensation of being exactly as full as she needed to be.
“Yes!”
“That’s it.” Dark lust vibrated in Marathín’s voice, though he kept up the controlled movements in and out of her, as if he was truly performing another examination rather than the debauched exploitation of her cursed mind and body. “Take it just like that—all the way in. You look so perfect when you swallow my fist. What I wouldn’t give …!” He growled suddenly, the steady movements increasing so much in speed and ferociousness that her soft whimpers turned to mewls and grunts as he fist fucked her pussy hard enough to make the heavy four-poster bed groan underneath them.
“You lied to me!” he hissed, never pausing the punishment. “You were mine, but your lies have ripped you from me. I would have worshiped the ground you walk on, and for the kindness and devotion I showed you, you chose to deceive me. Trust me, little Breeder, when I tell you that I will find a way to make you mine again. I don’t care about whatever Lord thinks he will win you at the auction—you were mine first, and you will be mine again. Your perfect little cunt, your womb, your children—all mine!”
Terror shivered up through her spine, mixing with the rough stimulation of her pussy as it desperately clasped at his hand. Something in his promise resonated with the primal need in her to be possessed by a male her mark forced upon her, raising her pleasure to new heights, but whatever grasp she still had left on reality understood precisely the depth of his threat.
He had not given up on making her his. Not even close.
The thumb of his free hand pressed against her sensitive clit, the long fingers spreading out over her abdomen as he pressed down, pinning her writhing pelvis to the mattress. “And Selma … when you are mine, you will learn to obey.”
Pure pleasure burst through her body from where his thumb rubbed roughly against her sensitive nub, making her pussy clench hard around the intruding fist as she went over the edge. The orgasm was instantaneous, and so violent her abused body arced up high above the mattress despite her protesting muscles screaming from agony at the sudden movement. It felt like her entire form, from the very core of her being, seized up in delicious cramps as she cried and came, milking his fist with
shuddering spasms.
Passing out would have been blissful, but she was given no such mercy.
The spasms continued even after she collapsed back down on the bed, shaking her body with infrequent intervals and making her squeeze on Dr. Hershey’s hand still lodged deep inside her body. She was panting for oxygen, and every gasp of air into her lungs brought with it the strong scent of her release along with the demon’s more subtle musk.
She couldn’t look at him. Her mind was swathed in post-orgasmic endorphins, and she couldn’t stomach seeing his face while the rush of hormones made her mind happily submit to the monster who’d killed two innocent people, and trapped her in a life as a broodmare.
God, she would never get away from them.
Now that the mark’s influence had finally been sated the dread returned, stronger than ever.
There was no hope. Kain had been her best chance of getting to Colorado without being assaulted, and even if she could somehow make it on the road on her own without being attacked by demons, the chances of her new Master giving her any opportunity to escape were slim to none.
Kain. She’d trusted him, because she had to, and he’d still betrayed her. If only …
No, she was all alone in this, and no one was coming to save her. This was her life now.
“Shh, don’t cry, my sweet.”
The fist locked in her pussy was slowly pulled out, making her whimper through the tears trailing down her cheeks.
“Once you have been tamed, I will be so very good to you.”
* * *
Deceitful, traitorous, cunning little bitch!
Kain punched yet another hole in his living room wall before tossing the hated letter to the floor.
It was the invitation to her auction, and the arrival of it had sent his already spiraling mood into another fit of rage.
Ever since the agents had taken her from his side, after she revealed what she truly was, he’d been alternating between anger at her for lying to him, and a nearly insurmountable desire to kick in the Governor’s door and rescue the cursed little Breeder so she would be safe.
He knew what they were doing to her, knew other demons would be touching her and watching as she was prepared for the auction, and the mere thought of it made bile rise in his throat.
Panting, Kain leaned against the ruined wall. He knew how scared she must be, in the few lucid moments they’d allow her to have. She’d risked everything to avoid this exact fate—the fate he’d promised he would protect her from, but he had failed her.
Why did she have to be a fucking Pure Breeder?
A snarl made its way up his throat as he recalled those cursed words leaving her lips.
It wasn’t the fact that she’d lied that made anger swell within him, not truly. He knew what it was, but acknowledging it was nearly physically painful. Yet, as he glared at the letter beckoning him to come bid on the pretty girl he’d promised to keep safe, the yearning deep in his gut made it impossible to deny.
He was furious with her for being a Pure Breeder, not for lying about it. When she had just been a regular Breeder on the run, he could pretend like the longing for her from the very core of his being was purely from the hormones, and there was nothing he could do about it.
Now … now he was forced to think of her as someone he could claim as his mate, if he wanted to. And by all the stars in the sky, he fucking wanted to.
Which was the problem.
He’d sworn to never, ever, claim a mate—just the thought of tying a Breeder to his side made him ill. It was all hormones and primitive urges, something he’d made sure would never dictate his life, until Selma waltzed into his territory.
Selma. Her name made him shiver with need, and he fisted his hands, pressing them against the wall.
It was more than just the crazy hormonal urge to claim and protect. Her gentle spirit, the way she’d obviously ached for his loss when he told her about his mother … something in those chocolate brown eyes that spoke to him more than he would ever willingly admit. Even the way she had back talked him, like no one else ever dared, had increased his fondness of the girl.
Just the thought of having her by his side loosened the tight coil in his chest that’d been there as far back as he could remember.
But she didn’t want to be mated to a demon. She was desperate to be free, exactly like his mother had been, and he would rather die than go through a loss like that again.
He couldn’t claim her, even if he got the fuck over himself and the issues that’d kept him far from the two auctions of Pure Breeders his race had held during the last two decades since he matured.
Kain pushed off the wall and began pacing the room, hoping to calm his mind just a little. His eyes swept over the destruction that was his home, and groaned. He’d been unable to keep his normally controlled temper in check for the past few weeks, and both his belongings and subordinates had suffered.
Only Thomren had been brave enough to mention Selma’s existence—and had not been thanked for his attempt at helping his Lord.
Kain grimaced. His underling had made the case that the Breeder would be Mated no matter what, and that she might as well be his rather than another Lord’s. He was right, of course. In two days Selma would be on her hands and knees, being claimed by her new mate while the Demon Lords of the world watched her submit.
His knuckles itched with the urge to punch something—or someone—again, and he growled at the already broken wall. Sure, he could go to the Governor’s manor and bid on the girl, but what was to say that she wouldn’t be just as miserable with him as she would with someone else?
Just the thought of being the cause of her pretty eyes dimming the way his mother’s had made his lungs constrict painfully.
The letter lay innocently on the floor, tormenting him with its neatly curved writing.
Two days.
Two days and she would belong to someone else.
No.
Kain paused again, letting the rush of determination travel up his spine and down the length of his tensed arms. He couldn’t do that to her. He’d promised he’d keep her safe—and if that meant breaking his vow to never attend the blasted auctions, it was just tough.
She would be free in the end, even if he had to break himself to pieces while getting her there.
* * *
“Don’t be scared—you will enjoy it, I’m sure. There are one hundred and fifty of the most powerful beings on Earth out there, just waiting to meet you.”
Selma glared at the demon who had come to ensure that the slaves had dressed her appropriately—if ‘dressed’ was the right word for the jewel encrusted gold chains they’d wrapped loosely around her hips and breasts, leaving nothing to the imagination.
“By ‘meet’, you mean ‘fuck’, I take it?”
The male chuckled lightly. “Oh, the Lord lucky enough to win you will sure have his work cut out. Mouthy little thing. Yes, you will get mated today, but the auction is about more than that. They will be bidding for the mother of their children, not just a piece of ass. Now, if you are ready, I will awaken your mark so we can take you to the arena.
She’d halfway expected it—they always wanted to touch the blasted brand—but the thought of facing 150 demons with her scent and hormones completely out of control made her pale and draw back from him as he reached out towards her forehead.
“No, please! They’ll rip me apart! I’ll—I’ll come willingly, just don’t touch it.”
The demon cocked his head and shushed her, as if she was a misbehaving child. “They’ll do no such thing. You will be safe in a cage until the end of the auction. Besides, if we let you into the arena smelling this upset, there’s no telling what the Lords would do. Probably attempt to kill everyone—including each other. They get a little overprotective. Now, come here, my dear.”
Selma flinched, but he graced her forehead ever so lightly before she could pull back.
A now well-known shudder ran through her, end
ing between her legs, and she groaned at the familiar pulsing of lust sweeping through her body and mind.
It wasn’t as strong as normal—she was still able to think coherently, but the urge to spread her legs for the male now watching her with a clinically evaluating expression was undeniable.
“I hope you burn in hell,” she mumbled groggily, even as she staggered to her feet to reach for him.
The male chuckled and let her wrap her arms around his neck, though he didn’t grab at her the way she needed him to. Instead, he supported her weight against his side so he could walk her towards the door. “Fun fact—hell is simply a word for the places on Earth us demons control, not a separate dimension. Wishing someone to heaven is a much worse insult among our kind.”
“Hilarious”, she muttered, opting not to argue with him further. She wanted to beg him to mount her, but had enough clarity to realize that that wasn’t going to happen.
At least she would be spared that small humiliation.
It was the first time they’d touched her brand since Dr. Hershey fisted her to orgasm and she had, if not enjoyed then at least appreciated, the three days respite after he’d declared her ready to serve a Lord.
Selma shuddered at the memory of the dark possessiveness in his eyes as he had stared down at her after withdrawing his fist from her weakened body. She had no idea how he planned to circumvent their strict rules for Pure Breeders, but there was no doubt in her mind that he would find a way. The depth of his obsession and ability to deceive was even stronger than what she’d imagined while on the run. If he got a chance, he would have her.
There had been a time that she’d rather be with him than one of the unknown Lords, but now, she was pretty sure she’d be safer with one of the demon leaders, even if the forced sex with them turned out to be as unpleasant as Dr. Hershey had made it out to be while he punished and prepared her. At least they wouldn’t be hell-bent on breaking her mind, as long as she submitted her body to their use.
Her core ached wantonly at that thought, and she gripped the demon currently escorting her through long hallways tighter, digging her fingers into his shirt. He smelled lovely, and she could feel strong muscles underneath his clothes. He may not be as big as Kain, nor make her entire lower body hum as strongly, but he would do for what she needed.
