Finding Avalon – Interlude – Mordred

Last Edited – 4/4/19

There was nothing quite like getting a blowjob from a woman who hated you.

Mordred leaned back, relaxing into his comfortable chair as Yuki wrapped her lips around his length, bobbing her head up and down on him. The Japanese woman hated him… hated him with every fiber of her being. He could feel that hatred radiating off of her like body heat… but none of that stopped her from sucking on his cock like a cheap whore when he ordered her to.

The kitsune pushed herself down on his lap, the head of his cock lodged deep in her throat… but even though she couldn’t breathe, she still worked her tongue along his length, working her lips on him, sliding her mouth back and forth while she sucked on him. She didn’t gag… not any longer. Any gag reflex the kitsune had had disappeared more than a hundred years ago, after he had started teaching her how he liked his cock sucked. And while she might hate it… she would never so much as consider resisting, not anymore.

Her life would be forfeit if she did. She knew that.

When she pulled back slightly, he caught a look of rage in her eyes, an icy hatred. Seeing her look at him like that, it made his lip curl up… peeling up to reveal a fang. He slapping her across the face, and she gasped, squirming to the side… but she never let her teeth so much as brush his rod. “Wipe that look off your face, whore,” Mordred scowled down at her.

She closed her eyes, but he knew that that was all she did… she was still glaring up at him behind them. Instead, she pushed her mouth down on his shaft a little further. The club owner reached down, grabbed one of her ears… the ones poking through her hair… in his fist and wrenched her face backwards, her eyes opening again in pain. Smiling, he spat onto her face, right into one of her beautiful blue eyes, right before slapping her again. “It never ceases to amaze me,” he said, voice smooth and hateful, “How after all these years you can still forget your place, even for a second.”

He sneered down at her. “You need a reminder, I see…” Before she could speak, he slammed the kitsune’s face back down into his lap, impaling himself all the way down her throat, her nose pressed hard into body. He knew she couldn’t breathe at all, and still she didn’t so much as twitch in resistance, even as her body clearly shook with the restrained desire. One bit of true rebellion, and he could crush the life right out of her, and she knew it. Instead of showing her any mercy for her obedience, however, he reached down and grabbed onto Yuki’s slender neck with her bulging throat, rubbing his cock through her alabaster skin.

Mordred had had a lot of practice with this. He took her until the very last second, right before she would have passed out before he yanked her back, letting his cock pop free of her throat so she could gasp in air around his throbbing shaft. He didn’t give her enough time to catch her breath entirely before he fucked his way back in, however… what kind of fun would that be? Instead, he let her draw three breaths before he plugged her throat again, reveling in the tightness of her clenching throat and the way her tongue worked along his length, trying to please him even as he choked the life out of her with his dick.

Yuki was one of the most beautiful girls here, and certainly the most unique of the creatures he had enslaved… a night with her cost a man nearly as much as this club would cost to buy without the girls, and Mordred treated her like a piece of trash… a cheap whore to do with as he pleased. Her cruel owner happily yanked her back and forth by a grip on both her ears, slapping her face into his lap as he made her swallow his length. To most of the club, she was the face of the organization, the woman that would get you whatever you desired. To Mordred, she was a cheap receptacle for any fluid he decided to pump into her.

Moving one of his hands back to her throat, he squeezes, making her throat even tighter, a better fuck for him as he ground her mouth up and down on his cock. Her tongue hung out of her mouth now, licking over his balls with each thrust down into his lap, but if she hoped going the extra mile would get her any kind of mercy, she was horribly, miserably wrong. He fucked her all the harder for her, pounding her face like she was a lifeless toy.

He glared down at her face, covered in spit and precum, and there was no defiance in her blue eyes right now. He spit right into those eyes again, one at a time, and thought he might have gotten a rare tear for her. Then he leaned back and released a surge of bitter cum into her face. Shot after shot of it slams its way down her throat, giving her no option of whether to swallow or not, force feeding it right into her, flushing his goo straight down into the broken kitsune bitch without her being able to do a damn thing to stop him.

His body shuddering with pleasure, he pulled out finally, wiping his soaked and messy cock with her sable hair. “Look at me, whore…” he commanded, and Yuki blinked her eyes clear of his spit, gazing up at him. Beautiful blue eyes. Hopeless eyes, filled with impotent hatred and not a speck of defiance. Perfect, sexy eyes.

Then he kicked her right between her spread legs. She coughed the filth all over herself, but didn’t cry out… she never did. Immediately she opened up again and looks up at him. “Say thank you, you dumb whore.”

“Thank you,” she whispered… not out of shame probably, but because he bruised her vocal chords with the rough fucking. Her own fault, really… if the bitch would just remember her place, he wouldn’t have to do that to her. She stood, but he didn’t… he kept looking at her expectantly. Slowly, she extended her right arm towards him, palm up.

Mordred grabbed it with both hands, pulling her closer to him… and then bit her wrist. The fox’s sweet blood poured into his mouth, and he drank it down greedily… so hot, so sweet. He had never tasted anything like it before he had met her, and the fact that she hated this so much just made it better for him… it was like raping her all over again, each and every time. But she didn’t resist. Couldn’t resist.

He licked his tongue over the bite wound, licking up the last of the blood, seeing the fresh, pale skin beneath the blood. He could feel the trickles escaping from the corners of his mouth, and he started to lick them up as well… when he heard a great splash, and then roaring laughter and applause.

Mordred stood, looking down at the pool… and froze. It was impossible…

He shook his head. No, it wasn’t Briaca. It couldn’t be. That one one of his Selkies, the new one if he wasn’t mistaken… but in person… she looked stunningly like Briaca. Just seeing her face took him back…

He had been with the XIV Roman Legion in Iceni the first time he had seen her. He had just been supposed to assist Paulinus in seizing the lands of the fallen king Prasutagus… but when he had first laid eyes on Briaca, that had changed. He hadn’t been able to get the beauty out of his mind… and like most soldiers of the Legion, he hadn’t joined for the pay, but for the chance at loot, plunder, fortune and land… and the plunder he most wanted in that second was Briaca.

And so he had taken her. As he stole the kingdom that her father had willed to her and her sister, he had raped her beneath a large, ancient Yew tree on that hill. Like a man possessed, he had stopped, hadn’t been able to stop… he had raped her for three days and three nights, until the beautiful redhead was entirely used up and more than half dead. Then he had tied her to that Yew and crucified her.

That night, he had slept as she had died… and that was when he had learned that the Paganus beliefs of those primitive people were nowhere near as superstitious as he had assumed.

In his dreams, three women with the same face had stood over him in judgment, their hair as dark as the night as they weighed his existence… and found him wanting. They had cursed him that night, beneath that sacred Yew, and he could do nothing to stop them.

He woke when the first rays of sunlight burned his skin, screaming in pain as the light touched his skin. He curled up inside that Yew, the sun shining random rays through the Yew’s needles a intermittent torture… but he had survived, until the night fell again, and his torment ended. And he had ripped the young Briaca’s body apart to feast on her blood.

A goddess, a woman, had cursed him, turned him into the world’s first vampire. Ever since then, he had done his best to be a plague on women, any woman he could reach… but ever since that first night, until now, he had never been able to get one specific woman out of his head. Briaca… the woman who had gotten him cursed. The woman he had wanted most of all.

There was nothing quite like getting a blowjob from a woman who hated you.

Mordred leaned back, relaxing into his comfortable chair as Yuki wrapped her lips around his length, bobbing her head up and down on him. Yuki hated him – hated him with every fiber of her being. He could feel that hatred radiating off of her like body heat – but none of that stopped her from sucking on his cock like a cheap whore when he ordered her suck.

The kitsune pushed herself down on his lap, the head of his cock lodged deep in her throat – but even though she couldn’t breathe, she still worked her tongue along his length, working her lips on him, sliding her mouth back and forth while she sucked on him. She didn’t gag – not any longer. Any gag reflex the kitsune once had disappeared more than a hundred years ago after he had started teaching her how he liked his cock sucked. And while she might hate it – she would never so much as consider resisting, not anymore.

Her life would be forfeit if she did. She knew that.

When she pulled back slightly, he caught a look of rage in her eyes, an icy hatred. Seeing her look at him like that, it made his lip curl up – peeling up to reveal a fang. He slapped her across the face, and she gasped, squirming to the side – but she never let her teeth so much as brush his rod. “Wipe that look off your face, whore,” Mordred scowled down at her.

She closed her eyes, but he knew that that was all she did – she was still glaring up at him behind them. Instead, she pushed her mouth down on his shaft a little further. The club owner reached down, grabbed one of the ears poking through her hair in his fist and wrenched her face backward, her eyes opening again in pain. Smiling, he spat onto her face, right into one of her beautiful blue eyes, right before slapping her again. “It never ceases to amaze me,” he said, voice smooth and hateful, “How after all these years you can still forget your place, even for a second.”

He sneered down at her. “You need a reminder, I see…” Before she could speak, he slammed the kitsune’s face back down into his lap, impaling himself all the way down her throat, her nose pressed hard into his crotch. He knew she couldn’t breathe at all, and she still didn’t so much as twitch in resistance, even as her body shook with the restrained resistance. One bit of true rebellion, and he could crush the life right out of her, and she knew it. Instead of showing her any mercy for her obedience, however, he reached down and grabbed onto Yuki’s slender neck with her bulging throat, rubbing his cock through her alabaster skin.

Mordred had had a lot of practice with this. He took her until the very last second, right before she would have passed out before he yanked her back, letting his cock pop free of her throat so she could gasp in a breath of air around his throbbing shaft. He didn’t give her enough time to catch her breath entirely before he fucked his way back in – what kind of fun would that be? Instead, he let her draw three breaths before he plugged her throat again, reveling in the tightness of her clenching throat and the way her tongue worked along his length, trying to please him even as he choked the life out of her with his dick.

Yuki was one of the most beautiful girls here, and certainly the most unique creature he had enslaved – a night with her cost a man nearly as much as this club would cost to buy without the girls, and Mordred treated her like a piece of trash – a cheap whore to do with as he pleased. Her cruel owner happily yanked her back and forth by a grip on both her ears, slapping her face into his lap as he made her swallow his length. To most of the club, she was the face of the organization, the woman that would get you whatever you desired. To Mordred, she was a cheap receptacle for any fluid he decided to pump into her.

Moving one of his hands back to her throat, he squeezes, making her throat even tighter, a better fuck for him as he ground her mouth up and down on his cock. Her tongue hung out of her mouth now, licking over his balls with each thrust down into his lap, but if she hoped going the extra mile would get her any mercy, she was horribly, miserably wrong. He fucked her all the harder for her, pounding her face like she was a lifeless toy.

He glared down at her face, covered in spit and precum, and there was no defiance in her blue eyes right now. He spat right into those eyes again, one at a time, and thought he might have gotten a rare tear for her. Then he leaned back and released a surge of bitter cum into her face. Shot after shot of it slams its way down her throat, giving her no option of whether to swallow or not, force feeding it right into her, flushing his goo straight down into the broken kitsune bitch without her being able to do a damn thing to stop him.

His body shuddered with pleasure. When he finally pulled out, he wiped his soaked and messy cock in Yuki’s sable hair. “Look at me, whore…” he commanded, and Yuki blinked her eyes clear of his spit, gazing up at him. Beautiful blue eyes. Hopeless eyes, filled with impotent hatred and not a speck of defiance. Perfect, sexy eyes.

Then he kicked her right between her spread legs. She coughed the filth all over herself, but didn’t cry out – she never did. Immediately she opened up again and looked up at him. “Say thank you, you dumb whore.”

“Thank you,” she whispered – not out of shame probably, but because he bruised her vocal cords with the rough fucking. Her fault – if the bitch would remember her place, he wouldn’t have to do that to her. She stood, but he didn’t – he kept looking at her expectantly. Slowly, she extended her right arm towards him, palm up.

Mordred grabbed it with both hands, pulling her closer to him – and then bit her wrist. The fox’s sweet blood poured into his mouth, and he drank it down greedily – so hot, so sweet. He had never tasted anything like it before he had met her, and the fact that she hated this so much just made it better for him – it was like raping her for the first time all over again, each and every time. But she didn’t resist. Couldn’t resist.

He licked his tongue over the bite wound, licking up the last of the blood, seeing the fresh, pale skin beneath the blood. He could feel the trickles escaping from the corners of his mouth, and he started to lick them up as well – when he heard a great splash, and then roaring laughter and applause.

Mordred stood, looking down at the pool – and froze. It was impossible…

He shook his head. No, it wasn’t Briaca. It couldn’t be. That was one of his Selkies, the new one if he wasn’t mistaken – but in person – she looked stunningly like Briaca. Just seeing her face took him back…

He had been with the XIV Roman Legion in Iceni the first time he had seen her. He had just been supposed to assist Paulinus in seizing the lands of the fallen king Prasutagus – but when he had first laid eyes on Briaca, that had changed. He hadn’t been able to get the beauty out of his mind – and like most soldiers of the Legion, he hadn’t joined for the pay, but for the chance at loot, plunder, fortune and land – and the plunder he most wanted in that second was Briaca.

And so he had taken her. As he stole the kingdom that her father had willed to her and her sister, he had raped her beneath a large, ancient Yew tree on that hill. Like a man possessed, he had stopped, hadn’t been able to stop – he had raped her for three days and three nights until the beautiful redhead was entirely used up and more than half dead. Then he had tied her to that Yew and crucified her.

That night, he had slept as she had died – and that was when he had learned that the Paganus beliefs of those primitive people were nowhere near as superstitious as he had assumed.

In his dreams, three women with the same face had stood over him in judgment, their hair as dark as the night as they weighed his existence – and found him wanting. They had cursed him that night, beneath that sacred Yew, and he could do nothing to stop them.

He woke when the first rays of sunlight burned his skin, screaming in pain as the light touched his skin. He curled up inside that Yew, the sun shining random rays through the Yew’s needles intermittent torture – but he had survived until the night fell again, and his torment ended. And he had ripped the young Briaca’s body apart to feast on her blood.

A goddess, a woman, had cursed him, turned him into the world’s first vampire. Ever since then, he had done his best to be a plague on women, any woman he could reach – but ever since that first night, until now, he had never been able to get one specific woman out of his head. Briaca – the woman who had gotten him cursed. The woman he had wanted most of all.

He looked up, more than 700,000 nights later, to find Yuki looking at him strangely, eyes flicking between him and the girl in the pool, pulling herself to the edge, water clinging to the Selkie’s naked form as she tried to pull herself out of the pool. “What are you looking at, whore…” he growled. “Bring that new cunt to me. Now.”

He looked up, more than 700,000 nights later, to find Yuki looking at him strangely, eyes flicking between him and the girl in the pool, pulling herself to the edge, water clinging to the Selkie’s naked form as she tried to pull herself out of the pool. “What are you looking at, whore…” he growled. “Bring that new cunt to me. Now.”

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