Eowyn: The Cage - Ch. 12a

The urge to gag remained, but she kept it under control. She was still very far from being able to swallow him in his entirety, but trying for more seemed impossible...or at least premature...and so she held herself in place, her tongue rippling against the bottom of his truncheon, before the burden grew too onerous and she was again forced to tear herself away for another series of choking breaths. His dick pulsed, leaking fluid with each throb, and she knew he wasn't far from orgasm.

Well, Brethil, your satisfaction will wait...just as you and the others made me wait for mine. I would first sample all that's on offer..

She rotated to face Arlepheg, whose impossibly fat head was already glistening with his emissions. These she tasted, coating his glans with her saliva, then opened as wide as she could to take him into her mouth. But despite their combined efforts — his impatient grip on the back of her head, the slick lubrication with which her tongue coated his shaft, her desperate tugging on his ass — the task proved impossible. He was too wide, and the stretch too painful. Apologetically, she diverted her oral appreciations to the rest of his narrow shaft and his fat scrotum, making up for her failure with noisy enthusiasm. She worked him with vigor, bringing him to the brink, then giggled mischievously as she denied his release and turned to the next man.

This cock pressed hard against her lips, its strange roughness its own form of challenge, its very presence an uncompromising demand. She offered token resistance, but she knew Dûrthéod would claim her mouth no matter what she did, for it was his way. Thus, it came as a surprise when he gently laced handfuls of her long hair through his fingers and bent to her ear, whispering, "you already know how I prefer to take my pleasure. I want you to trust that I will not damage you. If I cause you pain...and I stress that I mean unwanted pain, for there is ecstasy in the right kind of agony, properly applied to willing flesh...tell me, and I'll stop. I leave it to you to make the initial decision, but I promise that if you let me push you beyond your limits, you won't regret it."

Eyes wide, breath quickening, she attempted to judge the full import of his words. I can't deny any longer that the idea of submitting to another's sexual demands is one of my most private and dangerous thrills. I experienced a bit of it with Gréor, and that was by choice, but even more with the odious counselor I would otherwise happily forget. Under the right circumstances, and within limits, I'm clearly aroused by roughness, and perhaps even by being forced. Nor do I fear pain. In fact....

She relaxed, readying herself to meet his challenge. "Do whatever you want to me," she whispered, opening her mouth wide to emphasize her acquiescence, even as she shivered with anticipation and a fair measure of fear.

There was a tinge of evil in his answering grin, but even more avarice and insatiable hunger. The hair he'd been so tenderly caressing became a handle by which to yank her head backward, positioning her for his use. His eyes were hot, hard daggers boring into hers, yet far more threatening was the rigid spear that now probed past her lips.

"Suck it."

She obeyed. With difficulty, for unlike Brethil he didn't pause to let her grow comfortable with his size. Yet the very act of submitting somehow loosened her tense muscles and eased his passage, as if the strength of his demand overcame her physical discomfort. Mere moments later his became the first penis of the evening that she was able to take to the root. Quelling her instinct to gag, she concentrated on the throbbing head buried deep inside her throat and the compression of her lips as they mashed against his crotch. Giving her no time to prepare, he started pumping into her oral passage...slowly at first, then with more speed, his heavy balls repeatedly banging against her chin. He didn't allow her to pull away, nor allow respite of any kind, and her whimpers of pleasure intermingled with sounds of struggle and protest. Yet neither did she resist; the fire in her loins was evidence of just how excited she was to be taken in this fashion.

From his own lips came a litany of command and degradation, though the dissociation necessary to receive his thrusts without choking meant that she fully understood only a portion of what he was saying.

"Take it all. Take it deep. Can you feel my cock opening your throat? Look at you, you cock-hungry slut! On your knees, sucking me like some cheap whore. You're going to let all of us fuck your mouth just like this, aren't you? On your knees, which is exactly where you belong, for hours. And then we're all going to ream you like the slattern you are, all night long, until every one of your holes is stretched wide and overflowing with our seed."

His demeaning words — which, in the bright light of day, might have earned him the swift, decapitating stroke of Éowyn's sword — enflamed her desire beyond all reason, and to her astonishment she felt herself orgasming in response, the liquid evidence of her climax streaming down her thighs. I want everything he's threatening, she realized. I want them all to use me, to take me however they want, to plunder and ravage my body, to fuck me over and over again until I...until....

Abruptly jerking her head backward, he interrupted her reverie by forcefully lowering her mouth to his testicles. "Suck my balls, you filthy slut!" She obeyed, taking both into her slobbering mouth, rolling them over her tongue while his wet phallus smeared her saliva across her forehead and into her hair.

Again he yanked her away, more urgently this time, growling, "now beg for it. Beg for my cock."

"Please..." she whispered though bruised lips, mesmerized by the angry red appendage waving in front of her face.

"Please what?"

"Please give me your..." She found herself strangely unable to say the word, yet desperate to have him back in her mouth.

He waited.

Her tongue stretched out to tease his shaft, but he held her at bay. Panting and squirming, whimpering like an animal unexpectedly caught in a trap, she finally gasped her need. "Please, let me suck your cock. I want it. I want it. I want it...."

He gave it to her. Hard. Fast. And with tremendous force. Slamming into her open mouth. Bruising the vulnerable tissues of her throat. Reveling in her saliva-drenched gagging noises every time he plunged deep inside her.

Suddenly, he staggered away. He'd not come, but her lips felt swollen and her face ached. She sat back on her haunches, letting the tension drain from her throbbing jaw. But another was already approaching her, ready for his turn.

After Dûrthéod's rough pounding, the patient entrance of Malegil's smooth, narrow cock was a relief. Her hands easily slipped around the root, and she applied all her rapidly growing skill to his hard shaft. She stroked the base, twisting her hands as she pumped, letting the first few inches move back and forth between her lips. Gently, he pulled her hands away, angling her head downward and back. He paused for a moment, and when he felt her mouth relax around him, he thrust slowly inward, pressing forward until he was buried deeper in her throat than she'd ever imagined anyone probing.

Once again, her body's natural inclination was to choke and reject the intrusion. But Dûrthéod's aggression had prepared her for deeper penetrations, and she realized with surprise that the instinct to gag was entirely controllable even by her own volition. Putting down the urge, she considered attempting to swallow his last few inches, just to see if she could. But the internal pressure spiked, and she knew that there remained limits beyond which she shouldn't push. Not yet.

Éowyn closed her eyes, focusing on the luxurious feeling of his serpentine prick sinuously sliding between her lips, along her tongue, and deep into her throat. When he slipped entirely out of her mouth and paused, she extended her tongue, assuming it would encounter his tight scrotum. Instead, it nestled into a tightly clenched crevice. Confused, she opened her eyes...which widened in shock at the sight that greeted her.

I've never even considered doing what he's asking for. But then, haven't several of my partners already done it to me, to my great pleasure? And have any of them been more eager or skillful than Malegil? Why, then, should I hesitate to return this favor?

He'd turned to face away from her, and she reached around his hips to stroke the saliva-coated length of his cock. Taking a deep breath, she pressed her lips against his dark opening. She felt thoroughly debased, doing this under the watch of so many — in a way, it was even more embarrassing than enduring Dûrthéod's verbal abuse — yet the utter wantonness of the act was equally thrilling. Her tongue emerged for a tentative probe, then boldly pressed forward to the task. She reveled in his helpless, shuddering groans as she explored his opening.

Humiliating it may be, yet despite being on my knees with my tongue in his ass and my face pressed into his buttocks, I feel like I've never had more power over a man than I do right now.

He didn't make her work long, but instead stood aside so Éowyn could come face to cock with the final pair. Two at once! I've managed this before, I suppose, but the trainees were nowhere near as large, nor as experienced. Wrapping her hand around Arabold's prodigious stem, she took Argonil's into her mouth.

Nowhere near as large, she repeated to herself as she struggled with his girth.

Though it was still a mighty stretch, the persistent widening of her jaw and her decreased sensitivity to pain or even discomfort allowed her to swallow much of Argonil's staff before having to pause for breath and equilibrium. The thick head quickly lodged against her throat, and she began fellating him without delay, all the while twisting her hand up and down Arabold's cock. After a few minutes she switched, working them in reverse.

Drawing her lips slowly back to Arabold's tip, she brought both within reach of her mouth, frantically licking, kissing, and sucking...singly at first, and then in tandem as her tongue danced in circles and figure-eights. Given their size there was no possibility of sucking both of them into her mouth at the same time, as she'd hoped to do with the trainees, but she enjoyed the heated impatience of one cock rubbing against her cheeks as she frenetically pleasured another.

Abruptly, they pushed Éowyn to her back. Arabold loomed over her, his spear pointed straight at her greedy lips. Wrapping her hand around his root to establish at least a measure of resistance over the depth of his strokes, she let him pump into her mouth. Between her widely spread legs, a tongue quested into her quivering sex. Their rhythms synchronized, and she lost control as the twins mastered her body, coming over and over, her exhortations muffled by the shaft sealing her oral cavity.

After a time they lifted and arranged her face-down atop the table. Arabold raised her hips and spread her thighs, feasting on her sensitive folds while Argonil's cock stroked into her drooling mouth from the front. She clung to his thrusting ass, pulling him deeper into her throat, and their rhythm accelerated. Then they flipped her over, both of them looming over her head as it dangled from the end of the table, taking turns with her pliant mouth. She moaned as yet another tongue moved between her legs, slapping against her clit, but her wailing orgasm was muted by the pole silencing her voice. She recognized Arlepheg's insistent technique by now, and the singular obsession of the Ranger that followed; Malegil lifted and spread her buttocks, aggressively tongue-fucking her back door, and she again groaned in climax.

Treating her body like a doll, restlessly repositioning her for every new decadence, as a group they roughly dragged her from the table and laid her back on the ground. Argonil and Arabold took turns plunging deep into her aching maw; fast, hard, uncompromising strokes that left her breathless. Her hands scrabbled for and found hard cocks to stroke, but though her hips ground with need, the others had stopped touching her. Finally, with a roar of triumph, Argonil poured his load into her mouth. The scalding heat of it was intense, and she struggled to swallow as he pumped streams of white lava onto her tongue. She'd barely gotten the last of it down her parched throat when Arabold thrust his rod between her lips until he met resistance, sending his own burning semen directly into her gullet. When he withdrew, his retreating shaft trailed streaks of ejaculate across her raw, reddened lips. She eagerly tongued the residue as the others moved into position, closing her eyes to better savor the taste.

A fat glans pressed against her lips. It was Arlepheg, positioning himself above her in order to press his face between her legs, devouring her convulsing sex even as he achieved his finish. She undulated with pleasure, crying out in climax as his thick, gelatinous seed flowed into her mouth.

Someone tugged on her arms and pulled her to her knees, and the smooth, easy entry directly into her well-used throat indicated that it was now Malegil's turn. In her cum-drenched delirium, she easily accepted the long, slow thrust until she felt wiry hairs tickling her nose. Her eyes flew open, and even though her throat reflexively clenched and rippled against the intrusion, she realized that he'd buried all eleven inches inside her. The intensity of her reaction to this previously unimaginable penetration triggered his release, and he unleashed a torrent of bitter semen directly down her esophagus. Prevented by the presence of his rod from swallowing, all she could do was receive his tribute, cradling the base of his cock with her tongue as it throbbed with each spurt. He retreated with caution, yet when he was finally free she was beset by coughing, and a few drops of his unconsumed seed spattered to the ground.

When her throat relaxed and breathing returned to normal, she closed her eyes and raised her head, opening her mouth in anticipation for what she knew would be a very different experience. The hand that wrapped around the back of her skull and held it in place was as expected as it was insistent, and she braced without allowing herself to tense, relaxing her jaw for the assault she knew was coming. Dûrthéod slammed into her mouth a few times, each thrust all the way to his root, then yanked his shaft from between her grasping lips as semen-tinged saliva flowed down her chin.

"Open your eyes. Look at me."

In total supplication to his will, she obeyed, awaiting his instruction.

"I'm not going to make this easy on you. But you have to swallow everything, slut. Don't you dare let a single drop escape, or you will be punished." Her cloud-grey eyes widened, but without waiting for answer or assent he forced his manhood back through her lips, pumping furiously.

"No hands!" he growled as she clumsily attempted to brace against his rampage. She acquiesced, letting him hold her still while he utterly possessed her mouth. With a strangled cry he pulled her flush against his skin, crushing her face against his sweat-slicked pelvis, hissing, "take my cum, whore. Drink it all! And come while you're doing it. Come because I'm forcing you to swallow. I order you to come. Come for me...now!"

Able to deny neither him nor her uncontrollable lust, she indeed came — hard — thrashing and moaning in pleasure, not just from her orgasm but in desperate eagerness to sate herself with his seed. Despite the savagery that accompanied it, his semen was strangely delicious, and though his cock continued to pulse and erupt she cradled his ejaculate in her tongue as long as she could until, forced by a lack of oxygen, she swallowed each fresh portion of his prodigious load. When he finally withdrew, she sucked on his retreating shaft as hard as she could, whimpering at its impending loss, desperate to leave nothing behind.

She looked up at him with tears in her eyes, suffering from his rough treatment but craving his approval. He was smiling; a smile that would have seemed kind but for the still-raging fire in his eyes. With surprising delicacy he caressed her cheek, and she held her breath in anticipation. His finger swept towards her lips, and then away. When he turned it over, it held a single pearly drop of semen that she'd somehow missed.

Panicked, she slurped it into her mouth, but he just laughed as she suckled on his outstretched digit. "That was a mighty effort, and I congratulate you. Still," his smile grew wide and wicked, "I'm glad you failed. Because I really want to punish you."

She trembled in fear, but the trembling quickly grew uncontrollable. Wait, am I...? Gasping with surprise, she squealed through an entirely unexpected orgasm at the dangerous promise in his words, collapsing to the ground as it faded. Juices pooled between her widely splayed thighs. The others watched, rapt with arousal. Dûrthéod turned away, smirking.

<<<<<<<>>>>>>>

Brethil knelt at her side, gently embracing her quaking form as she recovered. "He speaks as a monster, sometimes," he murmured into her ear, "though in truth he is not, despite his penchant for deviance. Still, we won't let him do this to you."

Éowyn turned to look into his kind eyes, squirming from his embrace, straddling his lap, and kissing his brow. Her steely nipples raked across his chest, and her pussy drenched the thick member against which it settled.

"No. Please. I...I think I want him to. Whatever he's going to do, I will endure it."

Brethil's face soured with disapproval, yet beneath her his penis surged; a response that belied his caution. "Why?"

She bit her lip, scarcely believing what she was about to say. "Thinking about it...not knowing what's going to happen, anticipating the pain, giving up control...it turns me on." It excites you too, Brethil, for though you say otherwise, that which rises between your legs is the true measure of your feelings.

He sighed. "As you wish."

Tenderly, he guided her to back to a kneeling position, her lips level with his manhood. Noisily, she mouthed his thick head, his heavy sack, his veined length. While the others' cocks had their quirks (save the brothers', which were almost too flawless, especially when considered in tandem), his felt — and tasted — like towering masculine perfection. Despite her growing soreness, her jaw relaxed much more easily than when she'd first fellated him, and with surprisingly little effort she took a half-portion of his immensity into her mouth, pumping her head back and forth a dozen times before drawing back to rest his swollen head on her outstretched tongue. She milked his long shaft with both hands, eyes gleaming with thirst. With no more warning than a soft sigh, his cream covered her tongue in salty richness, and she eagerly suckled and drank, swallowing at need, letting him fill her mouth with semen over and over again. When he was finished, she licked, kissed, and stroked until he was restored to iron-hardness.

Carrying her to his nearby cot and arranging her amongst its tangled sheets, he settled between her long legs as they spread to receive him, bending to nip at her turgid nipples. Éowyn reached between them and took hold of his rod...stroking, pulling, begging. His tip split her labia, and then with gentle insistence he slid several inches of his massive tool into her overheated sex.