Misty Dawn & The Raven Ch.12

As the dark gloom of the shaded stairwell enveloped Dawn's upturned skirts, she allowed herself to take a halting breath. Meanwhile, Duval's fingers continued to stir her stew as his shoulder drove itself hard into her slung waist as he thudded his boots on the creaking split wood planks of the steeply set stairs climbing upwards towards the room that Fazul had obtained for them.

The twin thrill of her successful theft and Duval's insistent trio of fingers; digging, twirling, scratching, pinching at her inner walls combing to send a silent but violent shudder through her entire body. "Ah what a hungry slut ye are, pretty," Duval leered as Catherine bowed her head and opened the chamber door for Duval to enter. Dawn simply moaned and shuddered again as her pussy bathed his fast pumping fingers with her heated cream.

Duval slammed the door closed behind them, shutting Catherine out in the empty hall. Stomping across the empty room, he flung Dawn from his shoulder hard to the wood floor in the center of the room at the foot of the settee. Dawn shrieked at the mixed shocks of being flung from her perch, the solid impact of the unfinished floor planking upon her breasts and face, her lips being torn violently from the pinning digits holding them agape, and the desperate wrenching of Duval's fingers from her craving depths.

Instantly she pulled her arm with its laden sleeve beneath her breasts making sure the sudden fall had not left her ill-gotten weaponry revealed before Duval's leering eyes. "Where was Fazul?" The question thundered in her stunned skull. She had half expected her giant protector to have already been defending her from Duval's lust. Expecting it, she actually was relieved that she would not be interrupted from this brute's attentions. Dawn lifted her blood filled head from the floor slowly as she tried to clear it from the clouds of pain, release, and further desire. She lifted her face and shook her red curls and a single gauze like layer of her train from her blood flushed cheeks. Her right hand slipped beneath he pearly hem of her sleeve and clutched the cold hard barrel of the pilfered pistol, her index finger drifting quickly over the wide opening while her others tightened and squeeze the cool shaft, as if trying to squeeze a pearly drop of prerelease from the deadly phallus in her hand. Dawn gasped and traced her lips with the tip of her tongue as she massaged the pistol with the tenderness of caresses beneath her sleeve.

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Catherine bit her lip and stared at the thin door to the boarding house chamber. She clutched the parasol to her breast as she waited for some sound following the violent crash and shriek she heard from within. A trembling hand reached once for the door, then her fingers retracted and clenched into a fist. Unsure of what to do, surely a whore's handmaiden would not interrupt her mistress servicing a client. Yet, the weight of the danger of this moment troubled her heart more than she could bear. Continuing to bite her lips, she began to pace nervously before the door in the shadow filled hall. Therefore, intent upon listening to and watching the door, she did not notice the striped shirt moving behind her from a gloom-shrouded doorway. Nor could her nose discern the scent of rum laden breath from the stench that permeated this foul house in this cesspool port.

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The afternoon sun sparkled off the beads of sweat on Fazul's tattooed back as he raced back towards the boarding house. A fear gripped his heart and sped his strides to widen, pushing men in the crowded streets aside as if they were, but clothes on the line. Duval's reputation was legendary, and Fazul feared deeply for Sultan's girls tiny hide. He had signaled the Raven, as he was instructed, but now he raced to protect his charges from Duval's brutality. How many blocks did he have to cross, which was the most direct meandering narrow road through the slum filled port would lead him to the house he had left the women's fates to.

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Taking a deep breath just as she felt powerful fingers, greased with her own release seized the back of her neck, digging into her flesh, squeezing her pulse from her head. "Now we shall see if ye can earn a coin, my purchased pleasure!" The hissing voice full of uncontrolled hatred filled her ears as her mouth opened under both shock and pressure from his iron grip. His second hand closed the circle of ever tightening fingers about her neck and her lungs plead for air within her chest as Duval slowly stepped in front of his prey.

He thrust his hips forward crushing his tightly strained breeches to Dawn's parted pleading lips. Dawn struggled to control her quickly ascending fear, fighting it back with the inner strength of a fearless sea captain. She forced her teeth to close over the tented strings over Duval's cock. Small quick gasps of air drawn from her nose, his scent heavy with sweat, lust, and sea barely reached her lungs; she struggled to remain conscious. Using her tongue to both tease his covered cock and guide the strings between her teeth. Using all her strength she had in her neck, she pulled her head back opening his threads, instantly his cock pressed forward, its purple, bulging head bobbing forward; seeking, searching.

Dawn lunged her head forward her fiery curls billowing around her cheeks, lapping against Duval's waist, and covering those powerful flexing fingers that threatened to close off what little breath she had remaining. Her parted lips closed hard around Duval's throbbing shaft. Her eyes rolled back in her head, but she managed to roll the large head with her tongue. Swallowing hard over his mast, Dawn forced herself to focus only on his cock. Pushing the gathering darkness from her mind, forgetting the burn of starving lungs from her chest, her entire world became coaxing his cock to fill her throat. Her only cognitive thought knew that her only chance to survive this was to bring the brute off before his fingers crushed the life from her bossy that still pleaded for more release, even more than a full breath of air.

Duval squeezed her small throat and began violently shaking her head over his cock as he met it with thrusts of his own. Watching her feet begin to twitch on the floor as her head rocked back and forth with quick jerks at the command of his tightening hands. Still he could feel the greedy slut clutching at his cock with her swelling tongue. Her lips locked tightly over his shaft, despite the bluish pallor they were quickly acquiring. How long had it been since a slut had worked so well to save her own life? There was no fight, no struggle; she gave herself to his plundering cock. Ignoring her own breathless slow death, worshipping his mastery of her flesh, with her last breath, she strives to please his cock. Worshipping his power, praying faithfully for his mercy, begging to be given the last rights of his seed to finish choking what little was left of her throat. He watched as he shook her throat, her breast bouncing free of her bodice from the violence of his strangulation and power of his threat filling thrusts. Her rouged nipples were as hard as ruby red balls of musket shot. What little breath she could force through her nostrils were used not to fill her chest; but rather as they should be, to add vacuum to his cock.

Dawn felt she had ten nooses about her neck, and the time she had the brutal intruder between her lips seemed an airless eternity. All was black and she felt herself slipping into nothingness her tongue registered the salty heat of eruption, using all her strength she sucked forcing herself to keep from coughing and loosing the last of her precious air. Her head was light, her bouncing breasts felt like painful weights upon her tightly bound chest. Yet, she managed to crack a smile, with semen spilling form the corner of her lips as her mouth was flooded with seed and her throbbing ears caught, "Mon Dieu!!!" from the pirate's hoarse shouts. All causing her body to twitch and buck as both want of breath, and her own release cascaded through her pain-wracked body.