House of the Depraved Ch. 02

When the vixen reached around and savagely yanked his throbbing manhood he released for the second time, spilling his cum all over the girl beneath them, and collapsed into her again. With a flourish the vixen slammed into him one last time but he was too tired to even groan at this point. He fell into the girl once more, cold to the core. He felt the vixen's hands touch the back of his neck almost tenderly.

"That's it, sweetie. You did well. Think I'll keep you." She was whispering against his ear; beyond sultry. He tried to say something but his tongue seemed thick and ungainly in his mouth, like swollen. Maybe he'd bitten it. All the strength in him was gone. He tried to push off of the girl beneath him; he couldn't though and every-time he tried, his arms would give out and the girl would whimper. The vixen was stroking his dirty-blonde hair and was brushing it away from his neck and humming some tune he didn't recognize. He tried to remember how he'd gotten here, how things had come to this. Distantly he could remember the words: The House of the Depraved, showing up neon in his mind. When she closed the iron collar about his neck, he suddenly remembered then something about a rule involving not going through the house alone. As one of the lanterns gutted out and the whirr of the machine grew louder and louder, he wondered why he'd forgotten that until now.