Chapter 37

"Please."

"Be specific about what you want when you beg."

"Please, let Fred go first and finish what you were doing."

"Your begging won't always be answered."

"It's my first time."

"So, what exactly do you want me to do?"

His words were indifferent, but his eyes told a different story.

"If you want to send that boy to the medic before he dies from excessive bleeding."

Winston pressed his erection further down, placing the tip against Grace's lips.

"You need to finish your job quickly."

Right. Begging won't do any good.

It meant he would hold Grace responsible for Fred's life until the end.

Reluctantly, Grace parted her lips. The heat made her saliva dry, and the rough flesh re-entered her mouth.

"Ha, right. You're doing well, Sally."

He called Grace "Sally" with a sneer of contempt.

"Of course, among the people under me, no one does what I ask as well as you do."

But on the other hand, he didn't like the fact that this woman suddenly became so proactive for another man.

"Do you know what a prostitute is?"

Suck. Instead of answering, the only sound was the enthusiastic sucking of the flesh pillar.

"A woman who sells her body for money. So, you're a prostitute."

"Hmm…."

A weak sob escaped the gap between the interlocked flesh. Leon exhaled a satisfied sigh and gently stroked the woman's head.

"Keep it down, darling. There are others around."

Fred's screams had long since stopped.

Finish quickly. Please, finish quickly. For his sake, for my sake, finish quickly.

Putting aside her shame, she moved her tongue and hands as the devil had taught her, shaking her head rapidly a few times. The already hard erection became even stiffer and began to twitch.

Grace didn't understand the meaning.

Winston, who had said nothing when she half-sucked, suddenly pressed the back of her head hard. Taking advantage of her moment of relaxation, the erection slipped in.

He removed Grace's hand that was holding the base and tried to push the flesh pillar in all the way. When it got stuck in her throat, he stood up and pressed the tip of his erection against the back of her tongue to make room. She felt a gag reflex.

"Ugh, ugh!"

In the end, her lips touched his lower abdomen. She swallowed the impossible size to the root. The pain in her throat and the nausea made her punch his thighs.

A thick liquid spurted from the tip embedded in her mucous membrane. It was his cum.

"Ugh…."

"Swallow. If you don't want to suffocate, swallow."

Each time the woman swallowed his cum, her mucous membrane tightened. The sensitive flesh, made more sensitive by the orgasm, was sucked by the moist hole, making him feel dizzy.

"Huh…."

After a while, Leon released the grip on the back of her head. Pulling out his still hard erection, a long, sticky thread of fluid mixed with saliva stretched out.

Thinking that the thing hanging from his erection was connected to her stomach, a shiver ran through his lower abdomen.

When the woman, horrified by the sight, turned her head and gagged, the thick thread snapped.

Leon looked down at the woman with a cold eye and lifted the apron covering her thighs to wipe his sticky body.

"Hmm…."

While he was straightening his clothes, the woman fell to the floor, supporting herself with her hands, and gagged.

As he went to pick up his jacket, he placed his hand on her trembling shoulder. When he lightly patted it, as if praising her efforts, the woman took a deep breath and made a sobbing sound.

Having repaid the humiliation he had suffered to some extent, Leon smiled brightly. He had never felt such intense pleasure in this torture chamber before, even without seeing any blood.

As he approached with his jacket slung over his arm, the woman, wiping her mouth, which was a mix of tears, saliva, and cum, with her sleeve, muttered.

"Dirty pig…."

The man who had violated Grace looked down at her with a flawless and dignified appearance. There was no guilt in his eyes for trampling on the weak, only interest and contempt.

It was the attitude of a greedy nobleman of the Royalist Party, who treated those with nothing.

Of course. Winston, who seemed to hesitate for a moment, mocked Grace.

"How does the cum of a dirty pig taste?"

"Ugh…."

Her vision went dark. It was because Winston had covered her naked body with his officer's jacket. The weight of the coat, with countless bloodstained medals, made her collapse to the floor.

"Ugh…."

After quite some time, the shiny, nauseating shoes moved away.

In her dazed state, she heard the sound of the shackles being unlocked. Soon, the heavy iron door creaked open.

"Don't kill him."

As Winston ordered someone outside to let Fred go, Grace felt a twisted pleasure rather than relief that the devil had kept his promise.

Don't kill him.

As long as he's not killed, it means he will be tortured. A laugh, like a sob, escaped her lips, which should have said, "Don't do that."

'Right. Since you made me suffer, you should suffer too.'

She had a selfishness that was no different from Fred. Now, everything, including herself, seemed repulsive.

Bang. The door closed. The sound of the lock clicking shut.

She had hoped to be left alone, but such luck did not come. The dull sound of boots approached.

"The deal isn't over yet."

Instead of responding, Grace tightly closed her eyes. A hand suddenly slipped under her body, lying on the cold floor. Winston, who had turned her over, smirked.

"Pretending to faint like a mouse…."

She really wanted to faint right then and there. But her consciousness wouldn't let her go so easily.

"First time, a normal bed would be better, right?"

Her body was suddenly lifted. Winston carried her to the single bed in the corner, as if a groom carrying his bride over the threshold on their wedding night.

He laid her on the white sheet and climbed on top. Creak. The bed groaned as if it would break. It wasn't strong enough to bear his weight.

The woman was still pretending to be unconscious. Every time she took a convulsive breath, her breasts, exposed through the disheveled maid's uniform, jiggled violently.

It was a masterpiece.

When she traced the indentation of his teeth on the pink areola with her fingertips, the woman flinched. The thing trapped in Leon's pants also trembled.

This annoying lust didn't subside after one release; it only became more erect. He was eager to bury himself in this woman's moist hole again.

Leon took off her shoes one by one and threw them to the other side of the room. The toes trapped in the white stockings curled. Seeing the cheap stockings, an inexplicable disgust rose in him.

"Spread your legs."

As he lifted her skirt and ordered, the woman obediently spread her legs. The white bloomers, like a white flag of surrender, covered her private parts. The thrill of completely subjugating a woman who had never known submission made his lower body throb.

Leon grabbed the middle of the bloomers with both hands and tore them open. The pink flesh was revealed as the fabric ripped, making his Adam's apple bob.

"Ugh…."

The woman tried to close her legs out of embarrassment. Leon grabbed the inside of her thighs and pushed them up. Her knees bent, and her private parts were fully exposed.

The pale flesh split, revealing a glistening pink interior. His mouth watered, and his stomach trembled with hunger.

Lust was like hunger. Both were animalistic desires that Leon considered uncivilized.

"Ah! Ah, stop!"

He probed the layers of delicate flesh. When he rubbed the nub he had teased with his shoe, the woman screamed and writhed.

"It's really easy, you know."

"Ugh…."

The woman, who had been writhing, dropped her lower body onto the mattress. Her legs, spread helplessly, dangled off the bed.

"You must touch it quite often."

When he asked, the woman sniffled and shook her head.

Well, maybe it was more sensitive because it hadn't been touched.

Leon spread the nub, which was pulsing like a heart, with his index and middle fingers. A narrow hole, like a needle or a pin could barely fit, was visible in the middle of the thin, pink flesh.

He tried to insert his pinky finger into the hole, which contracted like a breathing passage.

"Ah!"

"Don't move. You'll tear."

Leon pressed the woman's lower abdomen, which was moving with her hips, firmly. He pushed his finger a little deeper into the tight flesh. The woman, struggling to even take a pinky finger halfway, gasped for breath.