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Four days ago.
The red fox lunged at his prey. She tried to dodge to the side and slip away, but his teeth caught her trailing hind leg and held on with everything he had. The golden fox snapped at him, tearing a chunk of flesh from his side, and he reciprocated by crunching through her leg. Her mobility ruined, she made no attempt to flee again, instead coming at him with a flurry of tails.
He slapped six of them away, but the other three grabbed hold of his body and flung him up in the air. He didn’t try to hold onto her with his teeth, knowing from experience that the attempt would only result in them getting ripped out. He smashed into the ceiling with enough force to break his back if not for his own tails cushioning the impact. The red fox pushed away from the ceiling with all nine, using them to hasten his decent and crash into the golden fox below before she could recover.
He caught her head on this time, and the two rolled in a tangle of fur, fangs and claws. Her tails came at him again, but this time he was ready and intercepted them all with his own, not letting her disrupt him. Thanks to his superior strength, greater mass, and her broken leg, the scuffle ended with her pinned and helpless beneath him.
The red fox panted with lust as he looked down at his prize. He had no interest in her in this form, but her other… his cock rubbed against her belly, hard and eager, and he gripped her neck in his jaws in case his demand wasn’t clear enough.
The golden fox laughed. “That wasn’t half bad.” She twisted out of his grip with seemingly no effort at all, rolling away from him and righting herself. Her tails came at him a third time, but it was different from the first two barrages. For one, she used only a single tail instead of all nine. For another, while her previous movements had been on par with kicks and punches in terms of speed, in this new assault her tail moved as quickly as a bullet, one that zigged and zagged faster than his eyes could follow. The first blow struck hard enough to lift him off his feet, and the second hit even harder.
The golden fox batted him around like a cat playing with a ball of yarn, smacking the red fox into the floor, walls, and ceiling in equal measure while easily avoiding all of his attempted counters. By the time she let him drop to the ground and stay there, she’d shattered half his bones. Akemi yawned as she shifted back to her human form. “That was pretty good after just nine months of training, runt. Keep improving like this, and it might only take a decade or two before I get up to three tails. I may even use my claws someday!”
Levinson stewed silently as he remained in his fox form, waiting for the injuries that would have killed him several times over as a human to heal. No matter how much he improved, the bitch always defeated him effortlessly.
“It’s a sincere compliment, just so you know,” Daniels quipped from the sidelines. He and the others in the sparring room had stopped their own exercises to watch the bout. “Took me damn near fifty years to get her to use a third tail with me, and that was only because she was obscenely drunk at the time. Haven’t managed it since.”
“Don’t force yourself to get up too soon, runt,” Akemi told him. “Relax as long as you like. Get some beauty sleep while you’re at it.” Her grin told him that she knew perfectly well his insides were still in the middle of healing, just as she knew that he wouldn’t be able to resist the challenge to his pride. Levinson held back a groan as he forced himself up to his feet. He could recover just as easily standing as he could laying down. And though he knew he was behaving exactly as the redhead predicted and wanted, it was still better than showing unnecessary weakness.
After nine months, she still called him runt, a reminder that he was the newest and youngest of them. Not the weakest though, not anymore. It had been immensely satisfying to crack Jacobs’s skull open like an egg during their last spar, even if it hadn’t stuck. Only a handful of the others could match him in a fight now, all of them Vixens. That was Akemi’s term for her eight lieutenants, mostly women, who were her oldest and most loyal vulpan. Levinson had made the mistake of complaining about the gendered term once to Daniels, one of the two male Vixens, and ever since the redhead kept finding ways to mock him about it.
Akemi smirked at the sight of him struggling to his feet. “Anyone ever tell you how adorable you are? Like a little fuzzy ball of testosterone and male pride. Feel like getting some fresh air?”
“You’re inviting me on a job?” he asked gruffly. He’d been left stewing in this trash heap they called a home for nearly an entire goddamn year now. The bitch claimed that it was because he wasn’t ready for real work yet, but he knew that she just didn’t trust him.
“Don’t worry,” she told him. “It promises to be boring and demeaning. Perfect for runt’s first day out.”
“Brie was supposed to be our sixth,” commented Daniels. “But she’s been a no-show for a few days now, ever since she lost to you. Probably busy shacking up with someone, putting the poor sap through his paces to cheer herself up. So you get to take her place.” Akemi glared at him, but he pretended not to notice. Brie was one of the younger Vixens, and infamous for her sexual appetites. Males hunting females was nothing new around here; vulpan drew little distinction between rape and sex, and Akemi’s official stance was that any woman foolish or weak enough to get caught deserved to get fucked silly for a while. But females hunting males was a rarer sight. Levinson’s first introduction to Brie had been her sitting on another vulpan’s face right in the middle of a hallway, teaching the man how she liked her pussy eaten. She’d nearly chewed the man’s dick off before he managed to make her cum.
She’d probably have done the same thing to Levinson if she’d won their spar. She’d certainly expected to; from what he’d heard, it had been years since she’d lost a match to anyone but Akemi or another Vixen. Brie had challenged him with every intention of putting the upstart newbie in his place. Instead he’d beaten her to a pulp while everyone watched, mounted her and packed her womb with his seed, and then beaten her up some more. When he grew bored of abusing her, he’d throatfucked her until she puked and passed out, then came on her face and pissed on the rest of her for good measure before leaving.
He didn’t like being underestimated.
“We head out first thing tomorrow morning,” Akemi said, “and we’ll be gone about a week, if you perform well enough. If I don’t like what I see, you’re not coming back.”
“Fine by me,” Levinson said. Her threat didn’t worry him. For all her insults, the bitch wasn’t so stupid that she didn’t acknowledge his skills. Bringing him in as a replacement for a Vixen was proof of that. They both knew he was perfectly capable, she just wanted another opportunity to humiliate him. He’d pay her back for that with interest someday.
Akemi had left the sparring room, probably to go plan for tomorrow, by the time the blond man had fully healed and could return to normal. It took him only a few seconds to shift form, and didn’t hurt much more than ripping off a band-aid, albeit one that covered his entire body. It grew quicker and easier every time he did it. And he no longer had to lug around that ridiculous red skin, either. They’d sewn a single strip of it into his back, and the main skin was now back with the white one and all his other trophies. Daniels had tried to convince him to donate the skins – apparently the one he had turned him into a fox markedly larger and stronger than the average, even before taking his superior fox marble into account – but he’d refused. Even if they weren’t family heirlooms, he wasn’t going to give up an advantage like that by sharing it with others, allies or not.
Dinner was a frozen pizza. They didn’t even have a working oven around here, so he had to nuke it in one of the microwaves, leaving the crust soggy and the cheese burnt. As Levinson ate alone, he ignored the other hunger inside him, the one that wanted to rip someone’s guts out and feast on them. It was always there with him, but it wasn’t an overpowering urge like it was for gumiho. Part of their incompatibility with the fox marbles: they couldn’t increase their power by eating people the way foxes did, but the upside was that the siren call was muted, a mere echo of what it once was, and even if they did give in to it and eat, that hunger would grow no stronger.
There were still consequences to having to constantly tamp down their murderous urges. It left them more aggressive, less equipped to resist their other instincts. He watched a fight break out in the mess area between two of the girls. He didn’t see the cause of it, if there even was one. No one transformed – there were never too many marbles, so the average vulpan generally saved their power for special occasions – but they still fought tooth and nail with each other, the knowledge that they could heal afterward encouraging them to be as vicious as they liked. It ended with one girl breaking both of the other’s arms, and then she sat on the loser’s head to pin her down while her mate pulled her legs apart and rammed into her. More vulpan joined in to rape the helpless girl, and eventually the winner was caught up as well, spitroasted by two of the men while her mate continued uncaringly enjoying the other girl. By the end of it, the two former fighters were being forced to make out with each other as they were raped side by side, both of them so bruised and bloody that it was difficult to tell them apart.
It wasn’t a long orgy, and when it was over, everyone just returned to their meals. The two girls that had been fighting so ferociously only minutes ago now laughed and chatted with each other and the men who had been raping them. That was the vulpan: little more than violent children, playing and fighting at the same time. Most of them had been like this for decades, their lifespans extended by the marbles. Decades wasted as a bunch of animals living in garbage, not caring about anything but their next meal and their next fuck. As much as he despised Akemi, she was one of the few with anything like actual ambition and intelligence.
After eating, Levinson went back to his room. He’d claimed a spot far from the others where he could have a bit of privacy. To his surprise, he found Akemi sitting on his bed. He tensed, expecting a confrontation, but she just gave him an amused smile. “I was wondering how long you were going to take, runt,” she said. “Nearly fell asleep waiting.” She wore bikini shorts and her usual flak jacket, but no shirt, her chest covered by a strip of white cloth.
“What do you want?” Levinson growled, trying to hide his startlement. He began pulling clothes out of his dresser for tomorrow’s mission, studiously not looking in her direction while still keeping careful track of her out of the corner of his eye. He could reach the exit in two strides if necessary, but that would just mean getting to die out in the hall instead of in here. He reached one hand deep into the drawer and quietly confirmed that the pistol he’d stashed was still back there. It wouldn’t be enough to kill her, but it might buy him enough time to get away.
“Just came by to brief you on what we’re going to be doing. Everyone else already knows, so…” she shrugged. “Figured we’d do this one-on-one. Well, that was the plan, anyway, until I saw what was in your closet…” She must have seen him stiffen, because she laughed. “Relax, runt. You can let go of that gun, too. If I was going to kill you, I’d already be picking my teeth with your bones.”
He did relax a little at that. Levinson hated to admit it, but she wasn’t wrong. And if she already knew the truth, there was no point in beating about the bush. “Is she still in there, or did you already let her go?”
“Still in there,” Akemi said. “She begged me to untie her, but I wanted to talk to you first.”
Levinson went to the closet and opened it, confirming her words. Brie was still hanging upside down, arms bound hand to elbow behind her and her big toes tied to the closet rod with twine. Judging from the way both digits had turned purple and swollen, supporting her weight like that had to be torture on them, but she had worse things to worry about. One was the weight hanging from her newly pierced clitoris, which punished her for every last muscle twitch. The other was the choke collar with the leash also tied to the closet rod; if she wanted to breathe, she had to arch her back and strain to keep her head up. Her body shook like a leaf and her face dripped with tears, the position clearly agonizing to hold, but her only alternative had been choking to death alone in the dark.
Blood still dripped down from where he’d torn the fox skin out of her back, leaving a stain on the closet floor that would probably never come out. The vulpan were idiots for only using a single strip of fox skin, and hiding it in the same place every time. In addition to the one he’d let them sew onto his back, he had another two hidden elsewhere. Doing the process himself had been slow and painful, but anyone who thought he could be crippled as easily as the rest of them would receive a nasty surprise.
“Pleeeaaase,” Brie whined hoarsely, looking past him at Akemi. “He’s going to kill me!”
“Were you?” Akemi asked him. She didn’t sound like she’d be very upset if the answer was yes.
“I hadn’t decided yet,” he told her truthfully. “Was going to see if she could be trained first. She’s been a hopeless cunt so far, but it’s only been three days since she attacked me in my sleep. I usually give even the dumbest bitches a week before I give up on them.” Brie went completely limp after he untied her leash from the closet rod, allowing her to breathe freely for the first time in six hours. She could’ve been mistaken for a corpse if not for her panicked panting breaths and the rapid thudding of her heart, so loud and fast that Levinson could feel it through her skin.
“Three days ago,” Akemi said thoughtfully as he began untying the blonde’s toes. “The day after your spar then. I knew she wouldn’t be happy about losing, but I didn’t think she’d be this stupid.”
“What else was I supposed to do?!” Brie demanded, some life and spirit returning to her now that she wasn’t on the verge of death. It probably helped that she was facing the wall now, and didn’t have to actually look at either of them. “He humiliated me in front of everyone!”
“Oh, Brie…” Akemi got up from the bed and approached the woman. Her hand flashed, and a red handprint appeared on the blonde’s right ass cheek that made her squeal. “You humiliated yourself. A Vixen losing to someone who’s had their marble less than a year? And in a match that she herself initiated, no less?” Levinson finished untying Brie from the closet rod and she collapsed onto the floor. He knelt to start freeing her hands, but Akemi stopped him. “Not yet. Put her on the bed first.”
He dumped her onto the bed face up, her arms still trapped beneath her. The redhead straddled the woman’s face, her bikini shorts already dangling off her ankle. “I still haven’t decided how to punish you for sullying our reputation twice over, first by letting yourself get beaten, and second by letting yourself get caught like this. If I were you, I’d start doing my best to put my boss in a better mood.” Judging by the frenzied slurping sounds that followed, the blonde bitch was taking her words to heart.
“And you,” Akemi said, turning her attention back to Levinson now that Brie was hard at work. “Is there any reason why I shouldn’t kill you for kidnapping and raping one of my subordinates?”
He spat on the ground. “Go wander outside right now, I bet you’ll find at least two other sluts getting held down and pounded as hard as I ever fucked this one.”
“Some tussling with a bit of fun afterward is one thing. Everyone gets back up after, no harm done. No one else here is keeping a fellow vulpan tied up in their closet, or ripping the fox skins out of their flesh.”
Levinson crossed his arms. “So kill me then. If you’re waiting for me to apologize for trying to turn that empty headed cunt into something useful, we’ll be here all night.”
“No,” Akemi said, “I figured out a long time ago that you’re too pigheaded to ever do something that smart. And…” She suddenly moaned and clutched Brie’s hair, her hips now rolling. “That’s the spot, Brie. Keep licking me just like that. Exactly like that. Don’t change a… damn it…” Her hand darted out and flicked the weight still attached to the blonde’s clit, making her scream into the redhead’s pussy. “What did I just say?!” Brie was screeching something incomprehensible as Akemi continued torturing her with the clit piercing. “Yeah? And I want you to do what I told you, and get that tongue back where it belongs! Which do you think is gonna happen first?! …That’s it, now you’ve got it again…”
She let go of the weight and moaned again. “Just like that… just like that… yeah… don’t you dare fuck this up, Brie… Goddess help me, I’ll hand you back to the runt with a bow on… yes… yes… ohhhhhhh fuck yes…” The redhead shuddered as she came hard.
Once the orgasm had passed, Akemi sighed happily. “That was fun. Okay, we’ll deal with Brie first, then you, runt.” She rose up off the bed and looked down at the blonde, whose face was plastered in her juices. “Kneel.” Brie quickly obeyed, rolling off the bed and kneeling at her feet. “From now on, until I decide otherwise, you are no longer a Vixen. You got yourself into this mess by having too high an opinion of yourself, so I’m going to do you a favor and help you correct that. Your new role is pack cumdump. Do you know what that means, Brie?” The blonde shook her head, eyes wide. “It means that you are now responsible for making every member of the pack cum at least once a day, every day. If I hear about a single man or woman not using you to get off, then we’ll see if you’re better suited to be the pack toilet. Understood?”
Brie hung her head low. “Understood.”
“Then what are you still hanging around here for?” Akemi asked crossly. “The day’s more than half over and you’ve only done two people today!”
The blonde slut’s face paled as she realized the time crunch she’d just been put under. “B-but my hands…,” she said. He arms were still tightly bound behind her. “And my fur, I don’t-“
“You’ll get your skin back if you can prove you deserve to be a Vixen again,” Akemi interrupted. “And unless someone wants a handjob, a cumdump doesn’t need hands. Now go!” Brie opened her mouth to protest again, then thought the better of it. Without another word, she scrambled to her feet and ran away, whimpering as the movement made her clitoris weight swing wildly back and forth.
It wasn’t until she was out of sight that Akemi broke into laughter. “A few weeks should take care of that overinflated ego of hers. Although, she did have such a soft, eager tongue just now. If she does too good, I might have to make her new position permanent.”
Levinson didn’t join in her amusement. The blonde hadn’t been anything more than a diversion, but it still galled him to see her taken away from him. Not to mention that Akemi had just effectively blueballed him. He’d been planning to spend half the night in that arrogant slut, give her a full once over before he had to leave tomorrow.
His frustration must have been clear on his face, because Akemi smirked at him. “Aww, what’s the matter, runt? Gonna cry because I confiscated your fucktoy? You’ve still got two hands.”
She stepped closer to him, and suddenly her hand was down his pants, caressing his hard cock. “Or maybe we could find some other ways to relieve all this tension, huh?” She made a fist and began softly pumping his shaft. “Your personality is shit, runt, but you’ve got a nice dick, and you could be downright cute if you learned to keep your mouth shut.”
“Not interested,” Levinson growled, and grabbed her wrist, pulling her hand out of his pants.
“Like hell you aren’t,” she told him. “You think I don’t notice the way you’re always looking at me? Or how your cock turns into an iron bar whenever we’re sparring? You’ve been dying to fuck me from the moment you saw me.”
“Yes,” he admitted.
“Then what’s the problem?” She tried to wrench her hand away from his grip, but his strength easily matched hers. He was pleased to see that when they were both human, she was no longer his clear superior in physical prowess. The knowledge that her fox skin was the only thing preventing him from pinning her against the wall right now and claiming her didn’t help make his cock any softer. “I’m not talking about anything romantic. Frankly, runt, you disgust me. You’ve got no respect for anything, no humility, no intelligence. You’re an angry, horny little man who can’t stand any woman who talks back. But if we close our eyes, you can just be a warm fat dildo for me, and I can just be a tight wet fleshlight for you. Doesn’t have mean anything.”
“No,” he said adamantly.
“Why?” she hissed, her face right up next to his.
“Because when I fuck you, bitch,” Levinson said fiercely, “I’m going to be the one on top.” He had zero interest in her giving herself to him. What he wanted was to take it from her, to rip away everything she had while she sobbed and regretted ever thinking this could end any other way.
Akemi laughed in his face. “That’s what you’re waiting for?” She tried to pull her hand away from him again, and this time she succeeded. “It’s a shame most of the pack aren’t into guys, runt, because your ego needs even more work than Brie’s.” She pulled her shorts back up and fixed her hair. “Why don’t we try this again in ten years? Maybe by then, a little reality will have finally sunk into your thick skull.”
Levinson stewed alone in his room for a while after she’d gone, fury and lust both boiling over. When the time came, he was going to make that bitch squeal. The idea was almost enough to make him cum right then and there, but he stopped himself. Her time would come, and he had better ways to relieve his balls.
It didn’t take long to find Brie. The blonde slut was at the center of a gangbang, desperately fucking three guys at once while dozens more waited their turn. Her arms were still tied behind her, and Levinson had a feeling that wasn’t going to change for a very long time. She still wore the clit piercing too, and the leash from her choke collar dangled between her tits. Her eyes went wide with terror when she saw him approach, but she wasn’t exactly in a position to object. No one complained when he stepped up after the vulpan in her throat finished; everyone knew what he’d done to her after their spar, and most of them were eager to see him use her again.
“If you’d been smarter,” he told her quietly as he fed his cock down her throat, “you would’ve begged Akemi to let you go back into my closet. Did you really think I was going to stop training you to be a fucktoy? All you’ve done now is gained an audience.” He raised his voice. “I spent the last few days teaching this old bitch some new tricks. She learned how to eat out my ass, how to spitshine my balls, how to lick my shoes clean and guzzle my piss, and that’s just her mouth! I spent far more time on her cunt and ass, turning them into tight, eager to please fuckholes, didn’t I, slut?” Brie nodded helplessly as she desperately tongued his shaft, trying in vain to convince him to show her a shred of mercy. “Who wants to see my teaching method?”
There was a general ruckus of agreement from all of those watching. “She’s a very stupid animal, but I found that nothing helped her learn better than a belt to the backside or a tug on her collar,” he told them. He yanked on her leash, and was rewarded by loud gagging and gurgles as the blonde was choked. “Hear that? That’s the sound of a slut who’s now paying very close attention to me.” From the eager looks on everyone’s face as they watched the once proud vulpan gasp for air, she wasn’t going to be doing much breathing from now on.
“Ready, bitch?” Levinson asked her. “I’m going to make sure that while Akemi and I are gone this week, everyone knows exactly how to treat you. By the time we get back, there will be no more ridiculous thoughts in your head about being a Vixen, a vulpan, or anything else with a scrap of self respect. You’ll understand that you’re nothing but a worthless fucktoy here to make everyone else happy. And then, we can start the real training.”
A day and a half later, Levinson increasingly regretted having been chosen for this mission. They’d spent all day yesterday traveling to their temporary base of operations for it, an abandoned warehouse even more pathetic and rundown than their regular home. Six of them had all slept in the same room, the first time in a long time he’d been forced to spend a night without a cunt to enjoy. Akemi had made sure to mock him for it, suggesting that they all close their eyes so he could jerk off in the corner, and offering to suck him off if he got on all fours and barked like a dog first.
After that long and frustrating night, they’d changed into the uniforms they’d been provided and gone outside to find a limo already waiting for them. The driver looked human, but the way he seemed perfectly at ease picking up six uniformed and armed men and women out in the middle of nowhere suggested experience. “Have you ever been to the Paradisium, runt?” Akemi asked as their limo began to pull away.
“A few times,” he said gruffly. When it came to acquiring slaves, he preferred to do business directly with the would be owners, and cut out the middleman. But sometimes he caught an animal that no one had a specific demand for, and the Paradisium was always happy for fresh bodies, even the ugly and broken ones. There was never enough meat to keep everyone satisfied. “Never as a security guard, though.” He spat out the title, wishing he could tear off this ridiculous uniform and put on some proper clothing. He deserved better than playing nursemaid to rich fools and their pets.
“Aww, don’t cry, runt,” said Akemi with mock sympathy. “It’ll make your mascara run. We’ve done business with this client before, and he always pays well. So if he wants us to spend a week providing him with some subtle extra protection, we’ll do it, and without getting our panties in a twist.”
Levinson scowled. “We have all this power, and you want to waste it on being hired help. If I was in charge-“
“If you were in charge,” Akemi interrupted, “the sun would be doing somersaults out in someone’s backyard, and the ocean would be made out of vinegar, because any world where you successfully challenge me would have to be one of utter insanity. So spare me the theoreticals.” Her eyes became hard, and her tone lost the mocking playfulness she usually used with him. “I have a goal, runt, and it’s about more than just winning a strongman contest. I need money and influence, and Ilya Petrov has plenty of both to spare.”
Hearing the old man’s name explained a lot. The reclusive billionaire enjoyed special privileges with the Paradisium, and acquired all of his stock from there. Levinson could admit, begrudgingly, that getting on the man’s good side wasn’t meaningless… when it was possible at all. But why the hell would he be requesting bodyguards here, and from the vulpan of all people? “What is this goal of yours, then?” he asked.
“To strengthen the pack,” the redhead told him. “You’ve seen how few of us there are. We always need more foxes, more fuel, more candidates… you think I want us to be nothing but hired mercs forever? I know to you, being a vulpan is just some power up for your macho fantasies, but it means more than that. You are all my people – even you, runt – and I’m going to make something of us.”
That he could almost respect, though the pack would function better in his hands than hers. Other than the infuriating way she treated him, Akemi was far too lax with her underlings. You couldn’t get anything done like that. Discipline and order were the keys to a powerful fighting force, and the red haired bitch didn’t care about either. Things would be very different once he’d figured out how to make her kneel at his feet. And when that time came, Akemi would soon find herself wishing she’d submitted to him on day one like a properly trained bitch. He’d endured ten months of humiliation, and he was going to enjoying paying her back with interest.
On a map, the Paradisium was only a tiny dot within the Mongolian-Manchurian grasslands, but in person it seemed impossibly massive. The oldest and greatest slave market in the world sprawled across the landscape like a small city, and when its doors were open to the public, as they were now, it had the population to match. Tens of thousands attended the Paradisium Game every year, including many subhumans, and not just those in chains and collars. Karakostas prided himself on being happy to do business with anyone of any race, as long as their money was good or their slaves enticing.
His motives weren’t born out of any desire for inclusiveness or equality. The dragon just wanted to expand his market, and was ruthless in getting his way. As the limo passed through the first of several security checkpoints, Levinson saw a group of Ulfethnar wolves with several of their women trailing behind on leashes. All of them, including the men, looked miserable. Their tribe, like so many other races here, was being forced to offer up women to the Paradisium every year in exchange for their continued survival. More than one species over the centuries had gone extinct for refusing to provide Karakostas with slaves, or for just not having acceptable sacrifices one year.
Whatever credentials Petrov had supplied them with were good, and the limo passed through every security checkpoint without incident to arrive at the main building. The reception hall was as much an orgy as it was a market, and you couldn’t walk five feet without bumping into a slave being put to use, often by as many as six or seven men at once. There were a thousand such pockets of debauchery, and dozens of the Paradisium’s private slaves crawled between and among them, diligently lapping up spilled cum and other fluids to keep the place clean.
“Looks like the first day of the game has already started,” said Akemi, glancing up at the television screens lining the walls. Various girls in masks were running through some sort of tunnels, those who weren’t already pinned to the ground to mate with huge dogs. “That means Petrov will be upstairs in the Player area right now, where we’re not allowed to go. We’ll have to wait down here and rendezvous with him later.” She looked around the room and smiled. “Just keep your cocks in your pants, yeah? We’re here as security, not guests. You all do a good job this week, and maybe I’ll pick out a nice souvenir to bring home with us.”
Daniels grinned. “Don’t tease us, boss. Nami’s still the freshest one we got, and she’s got about as much life to her as a blowup doll these days. We don’t get some decent pussy soon, I’m liable to explode.”
“Why don’t you ask the runt for help with your blue balls?” Akemi suggested. “You’re good with your hands, right, runt? Why not do Daniels a favor and… hey!” She waved her hand in front of Levinson’s face. “Earth to Levinson! Listen when people are talking to you!”
The blond man ignored her, his eyes fixed on one of the television screens. Her face was obscured by a mask, and she was looking far cleaner than the last time he’d seen her, but he recognized those four tails. “You told me she would be long dead by now,” he said to Daniels without looking at the man. “So how the fuck is the fox cunt still alive?”
More than half the screens in the reception hall were still replaying the highlight of the evening: Ember’s duel with Ginger. Every blow of the fight was shown repeatedly from different angles in and slow motion, up to the moment the blade flashed and broke against the fox’s skin. Half a dozen commentators were speculating on what sort of creature the fox must really be, and what the apparent alliance between her and the phoenix would mean for the remaining two rounds.
Levinson watched it all intently, trying to find some clue in the footage. He’d seen that kind of speed and resilience from her before, back when they’d first captured her. And he had similar abilities himself now as a vulpan. But both of those required being in fox form. He was no stronger than before as a human, and if she’d possessed powers like that while he’d been breaking her, she would’ve escaped him easily. This was something new, something related to her still being alive, which Daniels swore up and down shouldn’t be possible.
And he wanted it.
On one of the screens, a man in an old fashioned tweed suit was attempting to interview her handler upstairs. “What can you tell us about Ginger, now considered by many to be the dark horse of this competition?”
“She is not a horse,” said Celeste coolly. “She is a fox.” The dark haired woman wasn’t outright glaring at him, but her flat expression made no secret of the fact that she had no interest in the interview. Looking at her made Levinson’s blood boil. Akemi might be the focus of his rage these days, but he hadn’t forgotten the way this one had treated him back in England, humiliating him in front of everyone and forcing an apology out of him. He owed the fae bitch some payback.
The man laughed politely, as though she’d been making a joke. “Very true, very true! Is there anything you can tell us about her?” he asked hopefully.
Several seconds of dead air followed.
“And that something is…?” he said eventually.
“Not your business.”
The man cleared his throat. Celeste was no longer the only person on screen who looked like they wanted to be somewhere else. “A-as her handler, what would you say are her chances of winning the Paradisium Game now?”
The interview continued like that for several more minutes, the interviewer growing increasingly flustered by her non-answers. “Well, um, that was Celeste,” he said finally, addressing the camera directly. “As, uh, enigmatic as she is beautiful?” He coughed. “Anyway, thank you for this… informative look into the fox who seems to be on her way to becoming the star of the show!”
Celeste brushed past him towards the exit, but she’d barely taken two steps before another interviewer ambushed her. “Just a few more questions, ma’am,” said Daniels with an easy smile.
Levinson watched the fae nearly grimace, but begin passively answering the vulpan’s questions. Unlike the first man, Daniels was completely fine with her non-answers, and continue to ask question after question as though they were having a pleasant interview. It helped that he couldn’t care less about what she said. Levinson had just asked the man to stall her, and he had to admit Daniels was doing a fine job.
After confirming that Celeste was going to be busy with him for a while, Levinson slipped out of the reception hall. Now that their bodyguard was occupied, it was time to pay the Wilmingshires a visit.
“I just don’t understand it, though,” Jessica said. “How could our Ginger be capable of something like that?” She paced back and forth in their bedroom, a nervous habit she’d never been able to get rid of.
George waved a hand dismissively. “I’m telling you, love, it’s all just dramatics for the camera! I’m sure the two of them set up the entire stunt in advance.” He chuckled. “She can be a smart little pet when she wants to be, I’ll give her that.”
The two of them had retired to their quarters within the Paradisium after helping Muhtadi. Their new friend had been so furious over losing his succubus that he’d gone and chosen to purchase some random meat from the Paradisium as her replacement. Meat! Jessica tried not to judge anyone for their preferences, but she found the entire practice horribly barbaric. It was so much more humane to simply put unwanted slaves to sleep. No need to torment the poor things just because they were dysfunctional. And usually meat was kept within the Paradisium, which did technically own them at that point, even if they could be freely used by anyone there. To want to bring one home with you was like taking things out of someone’s trash bin.
They’d tried to persuade the man to choose something else. Muhtadi had struck Jessica as a very nice young fellow, if a bit naive about the world, not at all like the usual sort who made use of meat. It had been a shame to see him with such rage in his eyes, and so eager to take it out on someone. She’d seen other men look at meat with those sorts of eyes, and the result was always… uncouth. But he had insisted, and they’d promised the man they’d buy him any slave he wanted, so George had gone and had a talk with some folks, exchanged a bit of money, and Muhtadi had become the meat’s owner. Jessica just hoped they’d never have to find out what sort of things he did to her.
The blonde supposed George was right about Ginger. The girl wasn’t very smart, but never outright disobedient. The closest she’d ever come was her inappropriate behavior during the Game, but as Celeste had pointed out, that was just the sweet thing’s attempt to make her owners proud of her. No, minus the occasional mistake due to her own ineptitude, she’d been a perfectly well behaved pet since day one. And little wonder, given that she’d been a feral stray living outdoors all on her own before they’d adopted her. After everything they’d done for her, it was only natural that Ginger love them as much as they loved her. Jessica just couldn’t square their adorable fox with what they’d witnessed today. It had to have been staged.
She missed the animal. Playing with the cute little things at the Paradisium was always wonderful fun, but there was something warm and cozy about having all three of them together. Ginger was so pretty to look at, and she loved the way George was always so happy to play with her. Sometimes that happiness hurt to look at too, but that was just selfishness on her part. Giving her husband a playtoy that could do what she couldn’t was why Jessica had bought the fox in the first place.
Their current living quarters didn’t help. The Paradisium had hundreds of lodgings available, ranging from small rooms packed together to large standalone mansions. She and George had chosen the nicest one to stay at, of course, but it was still a far cry from the comforts of home. The bed wasn’t as soft, the water pressure in the shower wasn’t as strong, the cuisine offered by the chefs wasn’t as delectable… and the feng shui of the place was just atrocious! She was looking forward to going home. With all three of them, like it should be.
A knock on the front door startled them both. “Ah, good,” George said. “Celeste has finally returned. I was wondering what was taking her so long.” Their fae servant preferred to stay closely by their side at all times, but the Paradisium had wanted to conduct a few interviews with her after the game, and the Wilmingshires weren’t in the mood to wait, especially with reminders of Ginger’s impossible behavior being broadcast from every direction.
“I’ll get it, dear,” Jessica told her husband as she descended downstairs. She checked the pinhole first. The Paradisium wasn’t a dangerous place by any means, but there were all those nonhumans running about, and who knew what kind of mischief they might get up to at night.
Their evening visitor turned out to be not Celeste at all, but a blond security guard with a gruff expression. “May I help you?” she asked politely, without opening the door.
“Are you Jessica and George Wilmingshire?” he asked stiffly. He looked vaguely familiar, so she’d no doubt seen him elsewhere in the Paradisium before.
“Why yes, ” she answered. “Is there something wrong?”
The man gave a small nod. “We have reason to believe there was a security breach in the area, ma’am. Is there anyone else in the house with you right now?”
“No, just myself and my husband,” said Jessica uncertainly. “What do you mean by a security breach? Are we in any danger?”
“That’s what I’m here to assess. May I come inside?”
“Oh, of course,” Jessica said, and opened the door for him. He stepped inside and glanced around, his expression cold and serious.
“Where is your husband?”
“Upstairs in the master bedroom,” she told him. “We-” The man buried his fist in her stomach, causing pain and nausea to suddenly burst to life in her head. She doubled over, coughing, and his knee smashed into her face, generating another explosion of hot pain. She opened her mouth to scream, but he shoved a rag into it to muffle her cry. It tasted so horrible that she nearly retched.
Too panicked and confused to think about her situation, Jessica obeyed her instinct to run, turning to dash up the stairs. The guard’s hand caught her ankle and sent her crashing down onto the steps. Before she’d even hit the ground, his other hand had begun tearing at her clothing. She struggled to get away from him, but he wrenched her arms behind her back hard enough to make something snap and pain flare up, and bound them behind her with his belt.
Jessica groaned through the gag, still overwhelmed by what was going on. She couldn’t– she had to– he was– Her thoughts were a jumble of terror and disbelief. Something like this couldn’t really be happening. Not to her.
“Everything alright down there, dear?” called George from upstairs.
Jessica froze like a deer in headlights when she felt cold metal dig into her cheek. A glance down confirmed it: the intruder had a gun pointed right at her face. “I’m going to remove the gag now, slut,” he breathed, his voice low and quiet. “There are two ways this can go: you stay silent and get fucked hard right here on these stairs. Or you try to warn your husband, so I kill him, come back here, and fuck you hard right here on these stairs. You want your husband to die?” She shook her head quickly. “So you’ll be a quiet fucktoy?” Her response came much slower this time, but she nodded.
When he pulled the rag out of her mouth, Jessica had to bite down the urge to scream at the top of her lungs. He would kill George, she reminded herself. She had to protect him. At least she didn’t have to taste that filthy, foul tasting cloth anymore.
There was the sound of furniture shifting and floorboards creaking as George rose from their bed. “Jess, is something wrong?” There was a note of worry in his voice.
Jessica swallowed hard and tried to ignore the blond man’s hands, which were busy peeling off her bra and sliding her panties down her legs. “I’m fine, love!” she forced herself to call back. “Just some… some routine security matter. Relax and stay up there, I’m taking care of it!”
More floorboards creaked. “Alright,” said George, mollified. “Don’t take too long, honeybunch. I’m going to start getting ready for bed.”
“You heard the man,” whispered her assailant nastily. “We’ll have to make this hard and fast.” There was no foreplay to it, no time to prepare herself. He just grabbed her hips and shoved his cock into her.
Jessica squealed softly. It hurt! God, it hurt! George liked it when she occasionally played with herself using toys, so her hymen was long gone, but she’d never had anything as big as the blond man inside her, let alone received a ruthless pounding like this one. She’d already been wet, expecting another pleasant night with George, and her rapist took full advantage of it. He fucked in full, powerful strokes that took him all the way from her entrance to her cervix and back in a rough, eager rhythm.
She bit her lip to keep from crying out as he yanked fiercely on her hair, riding her like he was taming an unruly horse. “Rich little cunt,” he whispered harshly into her ear. “What good’s all that money doing now, impaled on my cock? You thought you could do anything you wanted, didn’t you? Thought all that money and power made you something special. But push comes to shove and you’re just another squirming bitch.”
Jessica’s face flushed with shame as she involuntarily proved his words true, unable to stop herself from twisting and turning in useless attempts to evade his prick. He matched her movements easily, spearing her again and again on his long cock. Wet or not, her pussy wasn’t at all prepared for this barbaric treatment, and her insides were soon raw and swollen, making each ruthless thrust hurt more than the last. She was certain that if he didn’t stop soon, he was going to kill her.
As if reading her thoughts, her rapist whispered to her again. “You want this to end, slut?” She nodded. “Then put this cunt of yours to work for the first time in your life. Clench me, bitch. Show me how tight Lady Jessica Wilmingshire’s twat can get.”
Humiliated but desperate, she obeyed as best she could. Gripping him with her aching pussy was like grabbing hold of a live wire, but she forced herself to keep it up. It would be over soon. It would be over, and George would be safe, and this would all just be an awful memory. She just had to make this wretched man finish.
He moaned quietly in her ear, the sound deliberate and mocking. “I knew you could manage it if you tried, bitch. Even worthless garbage like you can be taught to please a man.” His assault on her grew even more frenzied, and she’d seen George in action enough times to know that he was nearly finished. “Thanks for the ride, slut,” he told her. “Savor this load of cum, because when it’s over, I’m going upstairs to kill that fat piece of shit.”
Jessica’s eyes went wide at his words. She had to warn George! Even a small chance to escape would be better than nothing. She opened her mouth to scream, but the man’s hands wrapped around her throat to silence her cries. As he began to shoot into her, he throttled her hard, making her head spin and black spots appear in her vision. The blonde choked and squirmed helplessly, tongue sticking out of her mouth, as her thoroughly abused pussy was splattered with a stranger’s seed.
He didn’t release his death grip on her throat until every last drop of his cum had filled her, and even then he only let go with a single hand. The other remained curled around her neck, ready to squeeze her airway shut again at a moment’s notice. That hand was the only thing stopping her from screaming like a banshee when his free hand grabbed the fallen rag and stuffed it up her pussy. It felt like sandpaper on her poor genitals as he twisted it around inside of her. “I know someone with your refined palate must have trouble handling common foods,” he said with mock politeness as she fought just to draw breath. “So I went ahead and prepared a fitting meal.” He started forcing the dirty rag back into her mouth, pushing it far enough down her throat that she wouldn’t be able to spit it out. “What you’re tasting right now, bitch, aside from my warm cum and your own sluttiness, is the result of cleaning one of the public bathrooms for an hour. Even I don’t know what all the stains on this are.”
That knowledge made the makeshift gag taste even more foul than before, and this time she really did retch, though nothing came up. Her stomach was still churning and rumbling when her rapist stood up and hauled her to her feet with him. “That was just to take the edge off, slut. Now I’m ready to really show you why you shouldn’t have tried to fuck me over.”
Levinson frogmarched the rich cunt up the stairs, admiring the bob and sway of her hips. She was a sexy fucktoy, he couldn’t deny that. He was already eager to take her again.
George Wilmingshire went pale when he saw his wife, bound, gagged, and naked, alongside a gun being pointed in his direction. “I, wh- what is the meaning of this?!” he sputtered. “Unhand her at once, you-” Levinson shot him.
The fat man screamed and fell backwards, clutching at his right leg. The bullet had gone straight through, and a steady stream of blood was coming out of the wound. George howled when Levinson stomped on the bullet hole, grinding his foot against it with all his weight. Then he shot the man’s other leg. “I’m going to give you a choice,” he told the screaming man calmly before shooting him again, this time winging his shoulder. “We can find out how many shots it takes before your troll blood gives up and lets you die.” His next bullet struck squarely in the palm. “Or you can do whatever I tell you.”
“I-I-I’ll do whatever you want, just stop!” George begged, his face twisted up with agony. “Stop stop stop!”
“Then help me rape your wife,” Levinson told him. “Start by fucking her pussy.”
“You… you what?!” George exclaimed. “Please, I-” Levinson shot him in the leg again.
“I thought I’d kept this simple enough for even a fat piece of shit like you to understand, but I guess I underestimated you,” the blond man said. He pointed the gun at George’s face. “Let me dumb it down for you. Rape your wife or die screaming.”
The man nodded quickly and stood up. “Y-yes! Right away!” His wife squealed through her gag as he grabbed her by the waist and pulled her closer to him, his cock pressing between her legs. She looked as terrified as he did, but she didn’t make any attempt to resist him or get away as he started working to cram himself into what was far too tight a hole for him. It wasn’t a quick process; he was so thick that even Levinson wasn’t sure it was going to be possible. But George seemed very motivated as he pushed and pulled every which way, and Jessica was soon making small sounds of distress. When his head first penetrated her, she let out a long, miserable groan that made Levinson’s cock ache for another round with her. It disappeared in her slowly, every millimeter requiring significant effort on her husband’s part. After a couple long minutes, he was about half inside of her, her belly bulging with a visible outline of his cock. Her feet dangled a few inches above the ground, her entire body suspended on him. “Th-that’s as far as I can go,” George said nervously. “I-I’m hitting her cervix.”
“Fine. Now hold still while I help you consummate your marriage.” Levinson’s belt was still wrapped around Jessica’s wrists, but George had brought some with him. The thin blonde’s body went rigid as the leather belt struck her left buttock. “Time for some more fucktoy training, slut,” Levinson told her. “Make him cum without him having to move.” Her ass was perfectly round and smooth, and made an excellent target. It bobbed from side to side as he added red welts to make her ass even sexier. The way her legs flexed told him that she was clenching her husband’s monster cock like he wanted, sometimes voluntarily, sometimes as an instinctive reaction to her beating. “And quit that whining! This is all your own damn fault for cheating me out of my money.”
Between her efforts and Levinson’s motivation, it didn’t take long before George’s cock pulsed. The blond man enjoyed the pained look on Jessica’s face as her husband’s hot cum soaked her cunt. The bulge in her belly noticeably grew by the end of it, her pussy too tight around his shaft to let any of his cum ooze out.
Levinson didn’t pause with the belt. “Nobody told you to stop, bitch. You’re going to make up for lost time tonight.” He gave her ass another twenty or so hits before he just couldn’t hold back any longer. He couldn’t see Jessica’s face when his cock touched her virgin asshole, but the way she began trembling and crying was reaction enough. “Don’t worry,” he taunted, “I’ll make sure your husband gets to stretch this hole out too. I just want to know what it feels like before he destroys it.”
Jessica was sandwiched between the two of them, her cum swollen belly pressed against her husband as Levinson worked his cock into her, George’s making her almost impossibly tight. Even after squeezing in she was difficult to move around in, but he could tell that it was agonizing for her, and that was what counted. “You screwed me on that contract,” he told her. “So now I screw you back. The only difference is, slut, when I fuck someone, they stay fucked.” He met George’s eyes. “Time to pound your wife’s cunt. If I think you’re not fucking her as hard as you could, I’ll chop your dick off and feed it to her.”
The man whimpered, and his wife moaned as he lifted her up. Both her cunt and asshole resisted, clinging tightly to their cocks, but she slowly rose in the air until only their heads were still in the helpless woman. Then George pulled her down, and her legs twitched and spasmed as both hard cocks were buried back into her. Up and down she went, bounced in the air like a cheap toy, every movement hell for her. Her body convulsed every time her husband slapped her bruised ass cheeks against Levinson’s crotch.
“You’re the one she bought Ginger from, right?” asked George anxiously as he helped Levinson rape his wife’s virgin asshole. “I swear I wasn’t any part of that! I didn’t even know about it until after it happened! Your quarrel is with her, not me!”
“Then you should have kept your bitch on a tighter leash,” Levinson growled.
“R-right, I, um, I’m very sorry for that, sir!” George pleaded. “I’ll make sure my, my bitch understands her place from now on!”
“From now on?” Levinson laughed. “You really are a fucking idiot, aren’t you? Neither of you are leaving this room alive. The only question is whether I make it quick or slow. This cunt still has a lot of suffering to do, but I’ll make your death painless if you do a good job making hers memorable.”
“No, no, please!” George begged. “We can work something out, I promise! I have money, lots of money! I’ll give you all of it! I… I… my wife! Why don’t you keep her?” Jessica squawked something, but he ignored it. “I can help make her disappear, and then you… you can really punish her! I’ll, I’ll make up a good excuse so no one ever comes looking for her!”
Levinson reached around to grab Jessica’s bouncing tits. She was already so tight around him that even pinching and twisting her nipples couldn’t get her to clench any harder, but that didn’t matter. Hurting a stuck up cunt was its own reward. “And you think I’d believe you’d just give me your wife?”
“I only married her for her money and her family!” George insisted. “Why would I want a wife I can’t even fuck? She’s never been anything but a trophy! I, I promise I don’t care about her at all, so, so you can just take her with you and leave me, okay?”
For all of the bitch’s tightness, it was the quiet sob she made in reaction to her husband’s words that made Levinson cum more than anything else. As he spat his load into her guts, he considered the fat man’s words. “Cum first, then show me how much damage you did to her.”
It didn’t take long for George to obey. He swung his wife up and down vigorously, shaking her like a ketchup bottle until he squirted inside her. The additional load of cum made her belly swell like a woman several months pregnant. Levinson put his hands on that bulge and pushed, causing her thrash as her husband’s cum was displaced. When he finally pulled out of her, it all erupted from her cunt like a firehose going off. Levinson inspected the damage with some satisfaction. Her cunt had been absolutely demolished. It was so loose that he reckoned he could stick a fist in there without touching the walls. It was also completely basted with cum, every exposed inch slathered in the stuff. It looked like the hole of a used up, gangbanged whore, not one of the richest women in the world. “Do even worse to her asshole, and I’ll consider it,” he told her husband.
Jessica was still sobbing as George turned her around to seat her loosened asshole on his cock, which was already as thick as before. Her cum slick bowels had given up resisting during her first anal rape, and they stretched open for his shaft with little complaint. Not until he was about halfway in, at least, and reached the point Levinson had. The next nine or ten inches of her rectum were still tight and virgin, and her husband’s pace slowed down considerably as he fought to squeeze the remaining half of himself in.
Levinson had no forewarning to the attack. One second he was enjoying the sight of Jessica’s well beaten ass cheeks sinking slowly onto her husband’s grotesquely huge shaft, and then came the sound of pistol fire and hot pain in his back. The blond man stumbled forward and fell, twisting as he did to see Celeste standing in the doorway with gun drawn. He hit the ground hard, his body already feeling leaden and unresponsive. She’d put at least three bullets in him.
He didn’t give her the chance to finish him off. Before he’d even hit the ground, he’d activated his fox marble. When she saw what was happening, the fae emptied the rest of her clip into him, but she was too slow. He rose as a fox, his injuries still serious but no longer life threatening, and becoming more manageable with each passing second. “Been waiting for you, bitch,” he said with a snarl. “They were just the foreplay.”
Celeste tossed aside her empty gun and drew a blade. She came at him with inhuman speed, every action precise and efficient, every attack designed to incapacitate or kill him if not checked perfectly. There was a calm grace to her every movement, as though they were part of a dance she’d practiced a thousand times over.
Levinson couldn’t help barking a laugh. She was so slow! Compared to Akemi, Celeste moved like she was underwater, her attacks ponderous and telegraphed from a mile away. She was just another arrogant subhuman bitch who’d assumed her supernatural abilities rendered her untouchable. He was going to show her exactly how wrong that was. She might be slow and stupid, but the winter fae was as beautiful as any of her kind, and even in combat there was a sensuality to her that made his cock hard. He spared a glance at the Wilmingshires, who were frozen in place. “I told you to ruin her asshole,” he snapped. George flinched and obeyed, driving more of his cock into his wife.
The winter fae kicked her heels off and lunged into the fight, and with a growl, Levinson met her.
Celeste was growing frustrated.
Again and again, she stepped forward, the blade swinging in wide, cutting strokes… and each time, the fox was quicker. Each time, the red-furred monster was just half a step ahead, his tails leading her blade by just inches as they struck back at her like waving clubs, trying to find her, strike her, entangle her. The winter fae lunged for him, quick as a striking snake, and yet he managed to slither away from the steel fang in her hands regardless, coming around to bite at her ankles and forcing Celeste to leap away.
She was better than this, faster than this, and she knew why… it had been centuries since she had been in a real fight. The Bloomdyne family’s days of fighting and dueling had both been behind it before her punishment had began. One master, two hundred and twelve years, forty six days, four hours, sixteen minutes, and thirty two seconds ago, had seen her practicing with a blade and forbidden her her practice… the danger and grace she presented that way had intimidated him. In master after master, mistress after mistress, no one had ever countermanded that order. No one even knew it existed, and no one had ever asked. Since that day, she had only needed to pick up a weapon a handful of times, and had never again been able to train with it.
She was faster than any human, gifted with natural grace and poise than few beings in this world, mortal or otherwise, could match. She was strong, tough, possessing nearly limitless stamina. She was skilled beyond measure with hundreds of years of experience and born aptitude for bladework… but not even Celeste was immune to the passage of time.
Her edge was dull.
Levinson followed her through the leap, three tails sinking deep into the wall and using it as leverage to launch himself at her like an arrow from a bow. Too fast to dodge, too fast to react. A counter-attack was the only option. She planted one foot and swung around, sword cutting, and she felt it bite into the fur of two tails, the red coat resisting the edge far more than any animal’s would before she felt the blade cut flesh… but she paid for it. Levinson’s jaws closed around one thigh, and Celeste let out a grunt of pain as she felt her skin pierced by dozens of teeth.
The frenzied fox began shaking her like a ragdoll, and Celeste whipped first one way then the other, off balance, vulnerable… feeling her skin tearing in his jaws. She lacked the balance for a more graceful counter, so instead, Celeste simply rammed her free hand into the side of his head, once, twice, three times, until she heard something break and a yelp escaped his bloody maw. Then she was tossed through the air, into the drywall… and right through it, emerging out into the hallway.
Celeste stood up, backing away from the hole in the wall. Her pants had been shredded, and pulled at her strangely… she grabbed the torn fabric and ripped it clean off her, exposing one leg and revealing the bloody but uninjured skin beneath it. She kicked it away just as the red-furred fox crashed through the wall after her.
Blood dripping from the fur of two of his tails, but the cuts themselves had vanished… even the dent she had put in his skull was gone. It had been centuries since she had fought such a creature, but she remembered how they worked… Neither she nor Levinson would be easy to inflict a lasting injury on. Only a nearly instantly lethal wound would be sufficient to kill the kitsune, and Ginger had made it gruesomely clear earlier today what the consequences could be of a less than perfect sword strike.
The head. Right through the throat, and sever the head.
Levinson rushed her, but Celeste stood her ground, bringing the sword to a high guard. His teeth and claws would find no purchase on her, not in the amount of time he had left to live… she was certain of that. Even as Levinson crashed into her like a locomotive, and Celeste felt multiple ribs break and agony flash through her collarbone, she slashed down regardless.
The resistance was extreme. Agony flooded through Celeste, but she fought to bathe in the numbing chill of Winter, keeping her focus of driving the sword through that bastard’s neck. Levinson snarled and his tails beat at her, and she held up her left hand to protect her face and her right. She heard it snap several times, but she just winced and held it up further, determined. Levinson spat and hissed and thrashed away from her, but she held onto the sword with all her might, and while he could back up away from her, he couldn’t dislodge the blade from within him, couldn’t get her to leg go, and so she was just dragged with him. Levinson whimpered and spat and finally drove himself up against the ceiling hard enough that the sword snapped off inside of him before cutting further, finally forcing Celeste free, and she dropped… down past the floor that wasn’t there and back to the first story, where she landed with a further crack of a broken bone in her ankle.
The sidhe woman dropped to the floor, feeling her bones snapping back into place, feeling the pain slowly fade away and then vanish entirely. Their struggle had taken them through another room and out of it, the powerful kitsune breaking through the drywall like it didn’t exist. That, in Celeste’s experience, matched the Paradisium perfectly… rich and elegant and beautiful, but only on the surface. Just one level down, and everything was as cheap and rotten as it could get.
Celeste stood, her bones back to normal, and wiped the blood out of her eyes from wounds that no longer existed. She wasn’t armed anymore, but up above, the kitsune was still trying to get her sword out of his body. He was distracted.
He wasn’t the first kitsune that Celeste had fought. Slowly, with the ponderous speed of opening a door long sealed shut, Celeste reached for Winter.
Cold flooded through her, and the remaining pain went numb as the power of the season, the power of The Morrigan herself, flushed through her body. Pain of the body fled as the power entered her… but pain of the soul came with it instead. Memories of other times. Power she was no longer prepared to wield. Part of her wanted to simply find another weapon, to put the power down and not touch it again…
“You hurt my mistress,” she hissed. What an odd statement. She had no attachment to her mistress, beyond her duty and the requirements of her oath. Still, she felt furious at this fox slaver, and if Winter was what it took to snuff out his flame, then so be it.
Celeste pushed the floodgates open, and Winter poured out.
That fucking dark haired cunt.
The sword had broken inside of him, splintering into steel shards embedded in his flesh as he had knocked the faerie bitch away. He kept trying to grab the hilt and yank it out of him with his jaws, but it was too far up his neck. It took him long seconds of trying to bite at it before he thought to grab it with a tail. After he yanked it out, he could feel the blissful pain as his body began to knit back together, pushing the metal out.
When he was finished with her, he was going to embed the shards of a knife beneath that ice bitch’s skin and see how she liked it.
By the time he was whole again, Celeste was standing in the center of the entryway, looking up at him as her skin began to frost over. Crystal of ice spread over her hands, her forearms, her neck, her hair. The temperature in the room was dropping by the second – already it made his breath show in the air.
Levinson jumped down to the floor, intending to land in a graceful crouch like he had so many times… and landed in a heavy heap as his muscles failed him. Down here, it was stunningly cold… perhaps as much as twenty degrees colder than just on the second floor. Down here, the cold air felt like a wall pressing against him… like a thousand hands grabbing him and pulling him down.
Inside him, he felt the glowing embers of his twin marbles burning like bonfires against the cold, flickering and stuttering like a candle in the wind as the cold blew over him, again and again. He reached for that fire, fanning the flames with his hatred, feeling the power surging into him, fighting against the cold, pushing against it while the fire flickered…
The weaker of the two went out.
Levinson would have widened his eyes, but his eyelids were frozen in place, locked by ice forming in the corners of his eyes. The cold seemed to reach inside him, grab at the marbles in his core, and squeeze…
He snarled, his tails flailing as he heard ice crack and shatter around them, breaking the cold of the chill that tried to hold him in place. Hate gave him power as his will squeezed the marble like he was trying to drain it dry, pushing ever more power out from the stolen treasure he had won… and he reached back and threw the hilt of the broken sword at Celeste.
Every movement of his, every single twitch of his muscles, warred with the cold that seemed to have become a single, solid barrier… but that barrier didn’t seem to touch the hilt once it left his hand, flying at Celeste like a bullet from a gun. He hoped the jagged edge of the blade would stab into her, but the frozen field of stasis surrounding him made him move awkwardly and the throw barely even hit her. The flat of the broken blade slapped against her right arm…
And a blinding flash of light filled the room. Levinson gasped in pain, the ice on him making his eyes slow to close. The flash was brighter than a phosphorus flare, and it burned an imprint in the exact shape of the sword blade in his vision. Celeste screamed.
And the cold abruptly lessened. He could move again.
Levinson shook his head and growled in fury, a subharmonic vibration that shook the ice free of the ground around him.
So the faerie cunt wanted to play?
Celeste had fallen to one knee was was slowly rising back up again, an obvious burn blistered across her arm. Levinson didn’t let her stand. All nine of his tails flashed behind him, grabbing onto the bannister on the stairs – the wrought iron bannister – and heaving. Plaster and drywall cracked as he ripping it free, and with an enraged howl he threw it at the kneeling bitch.
She tried to get out of the way as it flew for her… but it was far, far too big. This time, Levinson closed his eyes before the flash… but his fox lips curled back to show all his teeth as her scream and the sound of sizzling meat filled the room.
He didn’t waste any time. He’d hurt the bitch, and knocked her flat on her ass, but she’d be back up again any second. He bounded towards her, and at the same time scooped the broken hilt up off the floor with a tail. Celeste’s scream was still echoing off the walls as he whipped the tail around in a wide arc that ended with the blade coming straight down.
There was another brilliant flash of light when the broken edge met her stomach, accompanied by a scream that no longer sounded like anything human. The ice cunt writhed on the floor as her flesh sizzled, and her hands pawed at the hilt protruding from her. He’d driven it completely through her, out her back and into the floor beneath her, nailing the bitch down with it.
His tails batted her hands away and pinned her limbs down. She struggled against him, but there was no supernatural strength behind her anymore, not with that iron inside her. She was just another weak, feeble woman.
And a beautiful one too, like every other fae slut he’d ever known. He ripped away what little was left of her clothing with his teeth, exposing smooth, ivory white skin that was cool to the touch. The sight of her soft flesh roused his hunger, but it stirred something even stronger inside him as well. He’d never fucked someone while he was in this fox form, but it was exactly what this bitch deserved.
Celeste was putting on a brave face, but Levinson caught the slight widening of her eyes when she beheld his cock. It was a minute expression, but for someone as stoic as winter fae, it was the equivalent of gibbering with fear. He’d never had a reason to be ashamed of his equipment when he was human, but what was stiffening between his legs right now had more in common with his arm than his cock when it came to length and girth.
He forced her legs apart with his tails and examined her slit. It was a well trimmed, pristine looking fuckhole that appeared far too small to accept his fist sized cockhead. But he wasn’t going to let the size difference stop him from giving the bitch what she deserved, even if it meant ripping her in half.
Celeste squirmed like a pinned butterfly beneath the sword, her pale stomach stained red with blood. The sound of her flesh sizzling hadn’t stopped, and his nose had begun to pick up the enticing scent of cooked meat. He would find out how she tasted soon, but not until the slut drained his balls.
Her pussy lips were as soft and smooth as silk against his head, and though they exuded the same chill as the rest of her body, he could sense warmth just beyond. He rubbed himself up and down against her, enjoying the feel of them. The way they gently stroked him on each pass was better than any handjob he’d ever received, and precum was already leaking from his tip when he began pushing into her, seeking that warmth.
Her body resisted his advance, clamping down on him to halt his progress. She was as tight as she looked, and not all of her strength had been sapped by the iron blade. An ordinary human would have actually been unable to proceed. Her cunt muscles were powerful to a degree that went beyond pleasure, and he could understand now why fae were often associated with the myth of vagina dentata. At her full strength, she could have torn a man’s cock off as easily as if she’d had teeth down there.
But she wasn’t at full strength, and he wasn’t ordinary. His prick was as hard as steel as he forced it deeper into her, and her clenching only made it more painful for her as he tore through her defenses. He stared into her eyes as he rammed himself into her, and was rewarded with a brief flicker of despair before she could smooth out her expression. She might act tough, but there was a cringing fucktoy lurking behind that facade.
Her insides were as hot as any other slut’s, and it made an excellent contrast to her chilled skin. The walls of her pussy possessed the same silky smoothness as her lips, and combined with her tightness created a warm, wonderful glove for his cock.
Half of himself was still outside her when he reached her cervix. He let her squirm on his dick for a minute, enjoying the way he could feel every movement through the enveloping folds of her pussy. Slowly, almost gently, he wrapped two of his tails around her pale throat, his eyes still fixed on hers. They were an inhuman pair of eyes, deep green with swirls of darkness that shifted in the light, eyes that spoke of wisdom and winter and a being that was already walking the Earth when his kind had still lived in caves. But there was an all too human fear in them that she could no longer hide. The winter fae looked up at him, and though her expression remained as placid as a frozen lake, her eyes pleaded for mercy.
Levinson spat into those eyes and began to fuck her.
His cock drilled in and out of her with all the force of a frenzied stabbing while he throttled her with his tails and bounced her head against the floor. He manhandled her slender form like a dog with a chew toy, making her buck and writhe beneath him as he took her. When his knot entered her, spreading her pussy lips as wide as a woman in labor, her soft silky cunt gave up all attempts at resistance and clung to him helplessly instead, submitting to his violent intrusion.
Her ivory white face took on a reddish hue as time ticked by without him releasing her throat. She could easily die like this, and he found that he didn’t care. What mattered was fucking this tight winter cunt while her oxygen starved body convulsed and squirmed around him like every other suffocating bitch, and if she didn’t survive, so what? She wasn’t going to leave here alive anyway.
Her malachite eyes had rolled back into her head and her lips were flecked with spittle by the time the slut managed to wring out his cum. He let go of her neck and howled in pleasure as thick jets of cum gushed into the pussy he’d broken in. His ejaculation went on for a full minute, and he spent it enjoying the look of misery on her face. He hadn’t tamed the frigid cunt – that would take a lot more than just a fuck or two – but she understood that he was in charge now.
When his stream finally tapered off, he expected to find himself going soft, but to his pleasant surprise he was still rock hard. Her cunt was still soft and tight, so he eagerly resumed fucking it. Her insides were a warm paradise for his cock, but no physical pleasure could top the tiny flinch she gave when his tails coiled around her neck again. It was almost a shame he had to kill her; she had all the earmarks of an excellent fucktoy once she’d learned her place.
Soon his cum was spurting into her ravaged body a second time in a climax as long and powerful as the first, and again it left him as rock hard as when he’d started. The truth dawned on him, and he laughed in Celeste’s face as he settled into pounding her sleek, slimy twat for a third time. It was his regeneration, the same quality that had made the fox slut such a perfect fucktoy. It didn’t just apply to healing wounds; his libido would be tireless in this form. He could rape the ice cunt into next week if he wanted.
By the time he’d emptied his fourth load into Celeste, her cunt had become a gooey, oozing river of cum. The exhausted winter fae barely moved a muscle anymore, the shallow rise and fall of her chest the only sign that he hadn’t fucked her to death yet. Even her pussy muscles had gone slack, and passively accepted the constant battering of his prick.
Despite her filthy state and lack of reaction, she still felt good to fuck, and Levinson could have kept going like that, but he had something else in mind. Her eyes flickered with renewed energy when he pulled out of her and, for the first time in nearly two hours, didn’t shove himself right back in.
“Look at the mess you’ve made of my cock, slut,” he said , crouching over her head to show her. It was covered in sperm and pussy juice, and both dripped down onto her face. “If I stuck this in your whore mouth, would you bite me?”
“Yes,” she answered promptly. There was no threat behind her words. She was simply stating a fact.
“If you try to bite, bitch, you’ll probably just break your teeth. More important, if I feel a single tooth, I’m going to grab that iron bannister and facefuck you with it. And now that you know that, I’ll ask again: will you bite me if I stuff my cock down your throat and use your face as a fleshlight?”
Her response came slower this time. “…no,” she said begrudgingly, unable to lie.
That was all he needed to hear. He grabbed her neck with his tails again, and pulled, bringing her mouth up to his crotch. Levinson felt her shudder with revulsion as his slime covered prick passed between her lips and slid over her tongue on its way to its new home.
Her throat was slender, and made for an even tighter passageway than her cunt had ever been, but with all the cum lubricant he easily buried his entire length into her. He ground her face slowly against his crotch to get those last few millimeters in, enjoying how she couldn’t help trying to get away despite knowing it was impossible. Strip away the bullshit and she was just another squealing bitch.
Even after four loads, Levinson’s cock was aching for release like he’d been blue balled for days. He used his tail grip around her neck to start bouncing her head off of him. Her face was nothing but another wet twat as far as he was concerned, and he treated it like one, slamming his hips against those inhumanly beautiful features. Her smooth ivory white cheeks grew red and abraded as his coarse fur scraped them like sandpaper. The swirling malachite of her pupils were offset by dark purple bruises around her eye sockets. Her full lips bled where his girth had made them split, blood and drool dribbling down her chin along with his cum.
Celeste didn’t look like an ancient, dignified, impossibly perfect winter fae by the time he spurted down her throat. She was just another sloppy, well used fucktoy, and the anguish in her eyes told him that she knew it as well as he did. “Do you want my cock out of your gullet, bitch?” he asked her. Her mouth was too stuffed to make a sound, but she nodded slightly. “Then clean your mess like a proper whore. Leave nothing but spit on my shaft.”
She was a stubborn bitch, he gave her that. He’d fed her cum twice more and was halfway to a third before her tongue stirred. Her movements held none of the grace she’d shown before; the ice slut didn’t have much experience as a cocksucker. She clumsily lapped at his shaft as he sent another batch of warm cum into her stomach. It took another load before she accepted that she was going to have to suck too if she wanted him gone. He felt her sticky lips tighten on him, and suddenly it was like he’d stuck his cock in a vacuum.
He slammed his crotch against her face a final time and held her there, her mouth bulging with his knot, and let the ice slut learn her new trade. Her hungry throat worked his shaft, stripping every drop of filth off of it, until she’d wrung a fresh load out of him.
His libido was as strong as ever, but he let his cock pop out of her mouth, and rubbed his drool soaked cock against her features. His dick pulsed at the thought of trying out her ass next, but he dismissed the idea. It would be a difficult angle to reach while she was in this position, and he wasn’t going to risk moving her. He’d taught her a good lesson about her true place in the world, but the bitch would still fight back the moment the sword slipped out of her.
It was time to kill her.
Her stomach wound wouldn’t do the trick on its own. Fae didn’t have the same recovery powers as foxes, but they were still hardy enough that it was nearly impossible for them to bleed out. Killing them required dealing out severe damage in short order. By devouring them, for example.
“Any last words, slut?” he asked her. He didn’t care what they were. He just wanted to drive her fate home for her. If he could make her mask crumble completely, get her to beg for her life while he ate her, that would taste even sweeter than her flesh.
For the first time all night, she disappointed him. Her expression became something steely and frigid instead, and her eyes glittered. “I will pass from this realm with honor, a concept that someone like you could never understand.”
“Honor?” he spat, annoyed by her show of defiance. “There’s no honor in dying as my overused cum dump. You’ll pass from this realm basted with my semen.”
“I am not yours,” she said calmly. “I have kept to my service, and paid all of my debts.”
He almost started feasting on her that instant, infuriated by her disrespect, but an idea brought him up short. Not his? He looked around the room, weighing his options. There was no way he could leave the bitch out of his sight, even for a few seconds. He’d have to take her with him, but how?
Levinson found a solution in the shards of iron scattered across the floor. The ice cunt gave her loudest scream yet when he shoved two of them through her nipples. He picked her up with his tails, bloody sword slipping from her abdomen, and wrapped one around her arms to bind them behind her and stop her from pulling her new piercings out. He realized that he could now rape that tight fae ass if he wanted, but he was going to give her a much more thorough kind of fucking first.
He had to laugh when he made it back to the upstairs bedroom, dragging Celeste behind him. He’d entirely forgotten about the last order he’d given George before the fae had attacked him, but the fat slob hadn’t, nor had his wife.
Almost three hours had passed since then, and he was still raping his wife’s ass. Jessica Wilmingshire sat in his lap, the skin of her stomach shiny and stretched tight as it bulged with cum. Even her belly button had popped out from the strain. Her entire front was covered in congealing greenish cum, and more of the stuff, so thick it was nearly gelatinous, was bubbling up from her mouth to spill down her chin in a constant stream.
Even as Levinson watched, her husband came again, his cock moving easily through the gaping wound that only barely resembled an asshole by now. As he twitched in climax, great fonts of cum began to spurt from his wife’s mouth. She’d been packed with sperm all the way from one end to the other.
Once George’s climax ended, the flow from out her mouth weakened, returning to that slow but persistent bubbling. Jessica’s eyes were flat and hollow, and the only sign of life left in them was her nostrils flaring to draw breath in and out.
“I, I did what you asked, sir!” George blurted out, still not pausing the rape of his wife. His eyes were wide and terrified as he stared at the massive red fox in front of him. “Just like you wanted!”
“I can see that,” Levinson told him brusquely. “Which one of you owns the fae bitch?” He held her up in the air for both of them to see, her body limp within his tails.
“That was hers, sir!” George said quickly. “I, I never liked that one!”
Levinson slapped Jessica’s face with one of his tails to get her attention. “Is that true?” Her eyes slowly focused on him, and she coughed up more sperm.
“…yes…” she managed when the coughing subsided.
“Give her to me,” Levinson ordered.
“I… can’t…” Jessica said. The blonde cunt stared at him helplessly, knowing he wouldn’t like that answer. “Passes through… family… can only… release contract… not transfer…”
He’d figured as much, but it was worth a shot. “So only your family can give her orders?” he asked again, looking for confirmation. She nodded timidly, already cringing in fear of his reaction.
George Wilmingshire screamed as Levinson pounced on him. His meat was fatty, tender, and delicious. Levinson devoured him eagerly, the experience almost as good as sex. The man’s troll abilities did their best to keep up, but it took only about ten minutes for him to die. Another five before the vulpan’s jaws crunched through the last bone.
The man had weighed at least four hundred pounds, but Levinson didn’t feel full at all. If anything, his appetite had increased, and the scent of the two women had become even more intoxicating. Perhaps he wasn’t completely immune to the marble’s siren call after all, but that didn’t matter.
Jessica had screamed along with George for the first few minutes, but eventually her voice had given out. She lay sprawled on the floor, weeping and covered in her husband’s blood and cum, waiting for him to kill her too.
“Marry me,” Levinson told her instead.
She sniffed and gave him a look of utter confusion, then recoiled as he slapped her with a tail again, this time hard enough to break her cheekbone. “Marry me,” he repeated. “Now.”
“O-o-okay,” she stuttered, trembling. There was no sign whatsoever of the arrogant bitch who’d ripped him off last year. She was just a terrified young girl who knew that he was in charge now. “I, I, I’ll marry you.”
Levinson looked up at the bound fae, who had watched the murder in stony silence. “Is that enough to make you obey my orders now?”
Celeste’s face twisted up with disgust, but she answered without hesitation. “Yes, master.”
“Good.” He looked back at Jessica. “Now give her an order. Tell her that from now on, and for the rest of her life, she is to obey only my orders, and no one else’s.”
The blonde woman nodded, then cleared her throat. Her next words came out in a rush. “I-release-you-from-ser-grrk!” One of his tails was coiled around her throat, cutting off the command.
“You stupid, fucking cunt,” Levinson snarled. “I’m going to make you regret that moment for the rest of your life,” He glanced at Celeste. “Did that work?”
“No,” the fae said, her disappointment clear in her voice. “I am still in your family’s service, master.”
“Try again,” Levinson told Jessica. “And if I hear one syllable out of place, I’ll rip that asshole open wider than your ex husband could have ever dreamed.” He loosened his tail, but left it in place, ready to cut her off again at a moment’s notice.
“From now on,” Jessica said miserably, not even daring to look at him, “and for the rest of your life, you will obey only his orders and no one else’s.”
He released Celeste then, letting her body fall to the floor with a whump. “Go pick up that iron bannister and bring it back to me,” he ordered. She shuddered, but promptly rose and made her way downstairs. A few seconds later came the flash of light.
Her hands were covered in blisters when she returned and dropped it at his feet. “Get on your knees,” he ordered next, “and fuck yourself as hard as you can with it.”
Her shudder was more violent this time, and she actually looked back at him with disbelief as she lowered herself. But that didn’t stop her from picking up the iron pole and shoving it deep into her pussy. She howled when it made contact, and the sound of her sizzling flesh was almost as loud.
Before she’d made it through three strokes, her cunt looked like charred meat. Her fingers shook with agony, and tears began to drip down her face, but she continued pumping at the same frenzied pace. Levinson enjoyed the sight for a few minutes before trotting up behind her and rubbing his shaft over her ass cheeks. “Have you ever done anal before.?”
“No master,” she gasped as the thick pole slid in and out of her.
“Then tell me how you feel about me raping your virgin ass.”
“I hate it,” she said immediately. “It’s obscene and humiliating and I know it will hurt terribly.”
“Good,” he told her. “Beg me to fuck it. And make it sexy. The more humiliating and degrading, the better.”
Her asshole was her tightest hole yet, and she’d already hoovered up the cum lubrication she’d gotten for her throat. Half dried spit was all the lubricant she was going to receive this time. “Please fuck my virgin asshole, master,” she said plaintively. “Please break it open with your thick cock. Give me your-” Her breath came out in a whuff as Levinson drove his prick into her tiny starfish.
Her asshole didn’t give way for him. He didn’t force it open, or wedge himself in. He simply smashed into her and through her, impaling her on his rock hard shaft where her asshole happened to be. It was a violent, bloody thrust that had far more in common with the moment he’d stabbed her in the stomach than it did with sex.
Her guts were a hot, writhing vise around him. Celeste was shrieking in agony now, not a hint of stoicism left in her sexy, abused body. “Keep begging for my cum!” He ordered as he forced more of himself into her. “And don’t stop until I finish!”
“Please rape my ass!” she howled, the iron bannister a blur as she ramrodded herself with it. “Bury your fat prick in my guts, master! Please hose my insides down with hot, sticky semen, just like you did my pussy and mouth! Use me as a filthy, slutty cum receptacle!” He could hear the utter shame in her as she repeated the obscenities. She’d probably rather die than utter words like that voluntarily, but centuries of people like the Wilmingshires and places like the Paradisium had given her the vocabulary regardless.
“Fuck me with your ass!” he demanded, and the winter fae made a sound of pure despair as her body began to move as if of its own volition, her ass cheeks slapping against his hips as she sodomized herself on his cock.
“And you,” he told Jessica, who was watching from the side, mouth agape at the brutality on display. “Get over here! Put your ass on her face!” The blonde blanched, but scrambled forward on all fours to position herself. “Now suck that cum out of her butt, ice slut! And don’t you dare stop that begging!”
Celeste put her face between her former mistress’s ass cheeks and began noisily sucking sperm from the ruined hole between entreaties. “You’re packing my *slurp* narrow asshole with your meat, *slurp* master! Trying to stretch *slurp* and destroy it until *slurp* it’s too loose to pleasure any *slurp* cock smaller than yours! Master wants me *slurp* to be his sexy fae butt slut! *slurp* I’ll never let anyone else *slurp* pleasure themselves with my guts *slurp* the way you’re doing now!”
The way her body quivered with agony from her brutal double fucking. The self loathing in her voice and the obscene wet noises as she degraded herself for him. Her warm, pulsing guts massaging his cock. All of it together was too much, and Levinson roared as cum erupted from his cock to paint the ice slut’s insides.
It felt incredible. So incredible that he couldn’t wait to do it again. So he didn’t. He pounded her ass a second time, a third, a fourth. Sometimes he made Jessica suck his balls while he raped her former bodyguard, or swap spit and cum in a long and heavy make out session between the two girls. Occasionally he switched holes, refamiliarizing himself with her cunt and mouth. Celeste ass fucked herself with the bannister, deepthroated it, even titfucked it while he sat on her face and force fed her his prick.
He’d been raping the two women for five hours when Jessica finally passed out from either exhaustion or blood loss. Levinson would have just let her die, but when he remembered her attempt to keep him from getting Celeste, he decided she hadn’t suffered enough yet. So he reluctantly stopped his assault to bandage her wounds and make her drink some water. She was still a half dead, fucked out slut when he was done, but she’d live long enough for him to bring her back home.
“Clean up this entire mess,” he told Celeste after he’d gotten Jessica packed away in one of her own suitcases. The fae was stark naked and covered in bodily fluids and bruises. She was trying to hold onto her usual stoicism, but she was far too tired and scared to hide the horror in her eyes. “Leave no evidence of the attack or my presence. When you’re sure that you’ve wiped out every trace, torch the building and meet me at the rendezvous point. Unless explicitly ordered otherwise, you are to act in my best interests and do nothing that would draw suspicion about me, yourself, or the Wilmingshires.” He thought for a moment. “If you ever find yourself tempted to do something you know I wouldn’t like, you will refrain and tell me about it.”
“Yes, master,” she replied. And then, reluctantly, “Because of my failure to perform my duties as a bodyguard and my wish to remove myself from your service, I was going to remain in the building while it burned.”
He smirked at her, then picked the bannister up with his tails and used his jaws to break three pieces off of it, each the size of a forearm. “As punishment, you will perform the cleanup tonight with your three new dildos inside of you, and bring them back with you. And keep track of how many times you have a negative thought about me or your new position. When I see you again, you’ll tell me that number so I know how many times to whip you.”
Levinson hefted the suitcase containing his newest fucktoy. He’d been so busy fucking his two pets that he’d forgotten to question them about the fox cunt. But that was fine.
Now that they belonged to him, he’d have all the time in the world to get that information from them.