Chapter 2: An Hour of Submission
Marco’s hips jerked forward, a final, deep thrust as his cock pulsed, unloading another hot stream down her already ravaged throat. She swallowed convulsively, her fingers digging into the taut muscles of his thighs, her own body trembling from the prolonged strain. As she finally pulled back, gasping, strands of saliva and cum webbing her swollen lips to his glistening shaft, a shocked silence gripped the section of crowd where Sarah stood frozen, her protective instinct warring with visceral disbelief. “What the fuck did you do to her?” Sarah’s voice cut through the murmurs, laced with a fury that made the surrounding spectators shrink back. Kylie just looked up at Marco, her blue eyes glassy and unfocused, a dark, unfamiliar heat having entirely consumed the bubbly girl who’d climbed onto the stage.
Kylie just looked up at Marco, her blue eyes glassy and unfocused, a dark, unfamiliar heat having entirely consumed the bubbly girl who’d climbed onto the stage. She didn’t answer Sarah; she simply dove forward again, taking Marco’s softening length back into her mouth with a wet, sloppy sound that echoed through the suddenly quieting crowd. Her head began to bob with a mechanical, relentless rhythm, a piston designed for a single obscene purpose, and a low groan rumbled from Marco’s chest as she worked him back to full, throbbing hardness against her bruised lips.
“Jesus Christ, she’s not stopping,” a woman whispered, her voice a mixture of awe and revulsion.
Elena Vargas, shoved to the front of the spectators by the pressing bodies, could only stare, her hands clutching her own face as if to hold her sanity in. She watched her best friend’s honey-blonde hair, now stuck to her temples with sweat, swing like a curtain with each brutal, deep thrust Kylie forced upon herself, gagging violently each time her nose mashed into Marco’s skin. The sounds were wet and raw, a brutal symphony of choking and grunting that completely negated the upbeat club music still pumping from the speakers. Time seemed to stretch, warp, and liquefy under the punishing sun, the spectacle stretching past ten minutes, then twenty, then into a surreal territory where the crowd’s shock calcified into a silent, collective paralysis.
“You like that, you filthy bitch?” Marco grunted, his hands now fisted in her hair, his earlier surprise replaced by a predatory glee as he began to fuck her face in earnest, meeting her downward plunges with upward thrusts of his hips. “You’re just a hungry little cunt, aren’t you? A fucking glory hole on two knees.” Spit and pre-cum slicked her chin, dripped onto her tanned chest, and pooled on the hot stage. Kylie’s only response was a muffled, guttural moan, her fingers clawing at his thighs for purchase as he hammered deeper into her throat, her body shuddering with the strain of accepting him.
From his stool, Jax Morrison let out a sharp, incredulous laugh. “Hell of a twist on the game show, Marco!” he shouted, his voice cutting through the tension. “Contestant eats the prize! Guess we know who won.”
Sarah finally broke from her stupor, lurching toward the stage steps. “Kylie, stop! Get off him!” she yelled, but a burly security guard, his expression unreadable behind sunglasses, extended an arm to block her path. “Sir, she needs help!” Sarah pleaded, her voice cracking. The guard just shook his head slowly, his gaze fixed on the scene, a professional courtesy extended to the paying act.
For over forty-five minutes, it continued. Kylie had become insane, she deep throated him repeatedly, her head bobbing back and forth as if simply to milk his cum out, the entire crowd watches in shock. Marco came for a second time with a shouted curse, his release flooding her mouth, and she swallowed it messily, coughed, and then, impossibly, resumed her sucking, her hollowed cheeks working with a desperate, fervent intensity. He softened, then hardened again under her unrelenting, almost surgical ministrations, a third orgasm ripped from him nearly half an hour later, weaker but no less shocking in its public yielding. And yet it was so amazing in its raw, undeniable animalism that the crowd’s revulsion began to tinge with a dark, shared complicity, a hundred phones held aloft capturing every obscene detail.
Elena sank to her knees in the sand, the fight gone out of her, silent sobs wracking her shoulders as she watched the person she knew disappear inside this desperate, gasping creature. Marco’s body finally began to flag, his thrusts losing their power, his cock becoming sore and sensitive. “Enough,” he rasped, trying to gently push her head away. “Baby, enough. You got it all.”
Kylie released him with a final, wet pop, her breath coming in ragged, sobbing gasps. She knelt back on her heels, her makeup ruined, her face a slick mask of bodily fluids gleaming under the fairy lights. She looked out at the sea of phones, at Elena’s broken form, at Sarah’s horrified stare, and a slow, twisted smile spread across her swollen lips. She didn’t see friends or a crowd; she saw witnesses.