[WARNING: ADULT CONTENT]
He gathered up her bobbed locks in one of his hands and pushed his cock into her mouth with the other.
She closed her eyes and hoped desperately that she could manage a member this large.
He eased it in at first, taking his time to work out her small mouth.
"That's it sweetheart, use your tongue. Keep your teeth out of the way."
He started to thrust harder.
"Look at me," he ordered.
She opened her tightly shut eyes and looked up into his eyes.
"That's it baby," his eyes were glassy with lust now, and she felt a thrill that she was the object of it.
Now that she was looking at him, he increased the pace and the ferocity of his thrusting. She gagged as he pushed as far as he could go into her mouth, and saliva started to pour from her mouth, providing him with additional lubrication.
As he got closer to coming, the back of her head hit the wall with the force of his pushes.
"Thump, thump, thump."
Ow! that was going to hurt tomorrow.
He groaned and shuddered as he came in her mouth, and now she felt a little glimmer of power for the pleasure she had clearly given to him so rapidly.
He pulled his cock from her mouth and held her lips shut.
"Swallow it, prick-tease," he growled.
Another name she didn't like…
He pushed his manhood back into his pants, zipped up his fly and buckled his belt before she could even stand back up.
He patted her on the head like a good dog. Perhaps that's all she was to him; she thought with self-reproach…
"Thanks shortcake, I needed that."
He exited the bathroom without looking back at her.
She reached up and locked the door, sliding to sit with her back against the wall and her legs curled to her chest.
What the hell was she doing with him? She really needed to stop this 'thing', whatever 'it' was.
She must be getting accustomed to being treated like shit, because she didn't cry this time.
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The Emperor sat on his throne, thrumming his fingers impatiently on the elaborately carved gilded arm of the magnificent ruler's chair.
Two of his generals knelt before him in full uniform, called back to the capital from their posts in the North to report to him in person.
"Rise, rise," he gestured at them in annoyance. "I've read your reports. Tell me everything you know. In detail."
"Nothing more than what was written I'm afraid, Lord," said General Shen. "We spotted their boat sailing across Bass Strait. It was seen from The Great Wall. It was a schooner with black sails, a fifty-footer, maybe sixty at the most. We could see the women; there were at least four of them on the deck at the time. A brunette and a redhead, and two smaller girls with dark hair."
He judiciously refrained from describing them in any more detail than that. Explaining how 'much' of the Emperor's women they had been able to see could have dire consequences for the viewers.
"Delphi, Loveday, Araminta and Winter," the Emperor speculated.
"Not much more than twenty-four hours after that, we saw Prince Alton's large boat come through the same route with the honour guard manning it. There's been absolutely nothing since then. No pigeons, no boats."
"Where could they be?" the Emperor muttered, half to himself. "Do you think they're all dead?"
"Could be," General Shen nodded. "We know the dragons are rife on the mainland. Not to mention rakali, croc's, you name it, it's overrun with tubiàn, and they're just eight men and some weak palace women. We won't know for sure unless we send men after them to follow their tracks."
"I'm only concerned about what's happened to my wives!" the Emperor snapped.
"Of course my Lord, my apologies," his general bowed deeply. "The honour guards would definitely have captured them if they caught up to them while they were still alive."
The Emperor glared daggers at General Shen.
"I'm sure they're still alive, Lord," he amended. "Those guards are the best-of-the-best. If they're alive, so are your wives."
"They'd better not have touched them," the Emperor growled.
"I'm certain Prince Alton would never do such a thing Lord. After all, he is your nephew. If any of them value their lives and those of their families, they wouldn't even contemplate touching a royal woman."
"Just let them try!" the Emperor spat with anger.
His generals bowed their heads, discretion being the better part of valour.
"Your Majesty, please calm your anger," said his Chief Eunuch, handing the Emperor a cup of tea in an attempt to placate him.
"Send a unit of men over there and scour the place. Kill the guards if they've defiled my women!"
"My Lord," General Shen spoke obsequiously, "it's highly unlikely they're still alive if they haven't returned yet. Either that, or their return is imminent Why sacrifice a unit of men to the tubiàn on the Mainland if you can send a small patrol over who can operate more rapidly, and to the same effect. Let me send my best twelve men? If anyone's left alive who shouldn't be, they can execute them. If they're trapped somewhere with injured women, they can extract them. If the tubiàn kill the entire patrol, we can be sure they also killed your wives and the honour guard."
The Emperor stroked his short beard as he considered the man's plan.
"Yes, alright, we'll do as you suggest. I want to see the list of soldiers and their qualifications before they set out though; make haste!"
"My Lord," the two generals bowed and backed out of the throne room.
"We'll use Major Pittman to lead it," said General Shen.
General Tan nodded his agreement at the selection. "Good idea. We know he can do what he has to if the Prince has gone rogue."
Pittman was a trained assassin who had changed military careers mid-course and was now climbing the army leadership ranks. His former career made him especially sought after for dirty missions.
"It will take them some time to find where they went ashore." This was General Shen's biggest concern. "Did they get anything out of the consorts that were interrogated?"
General Tan shook his head sombrely. "Nothing. And they put them through some serious torture. Benoit lead the sessions."
General Shen had heard rumours of it. Apparently, they were incredibly brave. Being childless and effectively 'husbandless', the torturers had lacked any other leverage aside from physical pain.
"Get Rutherford on board as the tracker. Ask him to come up with a list of their most likely landing points."
"Good idea. He's a magician that man."