The Call of Her Coochie, page 5
"Come on now, Polly," cooed Sophie, reaching out for the farm girl’s hand. “Don't be scared. Come here and have some fun."
Sophie tried to yank Polly down to her knees, but the freckled girl pulled her hand free and looked away from what Sophie was doing. It was maddening to Sophie. Why had Polly bothered to come at all? Wasn't this what she was supposed to do? Sophie was afraid for the girl. The viscount did not strike her as the sort to treat disappointment with kindness.
Sophie stood up, grabbed Polly by the arm, and pulled her towards the viscount.
"Ah, please," said the viscount. "What kind of performance is this? I'm waiting for you to delight me."
"Yes, my lord," said Sophie, falling back to her knees and taking the viscount's cock into her mouth. "I’ve never contended with such an… unmatched member. So big. Mmmmm. So… bumpy. Mmmmm.”
"It's strange," murmured Polly, staring at Sophie as the harlot knight bobbed and slurped on the viscount's fat cock.
Sophie was not enjoying it, the thing tasted foul and something about the way it pulsated in her mouth was revolting, but she knew she had to pleasure the masked nobleman to gain entrance to his party. She fondled his dangling balls in their smooth, hairless pouch. Oddly greasy beneath her fingers as she tongued the salty ooze from his cock.
"Enough," declared the viscount and he gestured for Sophie to get to her feet. "You have proven yourself, my dear. A red ribbon for you."
He plucked one of the red ribbons from the arm of his guard and tied it gingerly around Sophie's neck.
"Wear the ribbon with pride," said the viscount, caressing Sophie's cheek. His dark gaze seemed to bore into her. He suddenly yanked open the front of Sophie's gown, tearing the laces and exposing Sophie's large, creamy breasts. He tested them with both hands, thumbs working across her thick nipples. "Your breasts will remain bare. You will serve drinks along with every desire of my noble friends no matter how perverse. Your body offered to any who would like to use it. I promise you will be rewarded more handsomely than you can even imagine.
"Do you accept these terms?"
Sophie could feel the jealous gazes of the other women waiting to join the party. She glanced over at Polly and saw the farm girl shrinking away, still looking down at the viscount's misshapen cock. It was dripping with his cloudy precum.
"Yes, sir, but my friend," said Sophie, reaching out to Polly, "might she join me?"
"Your friend has not proven herself," said the viscount, his tone growing cold and his eyes flicking in the direction of Polly. "She might have pleased me with that innocent peasant face. I should have liked to decorate it with my seed. Instead... hmmmm... Fortunato."
"Yes, m'lord," said the guard holding the towel.
"Give this one some of the fortified brandy and see if that warms her up sufficiently to kneel before one of the glory holes. If not... take her to the kennel. She can entertain my beasts."
"What!?" cried Polly. "Sophie, don't let them take me- AH!"
Fortunato moved behind Polly, twisting her arm behind her back and shoving her through the door concealed behind the curtains. Sophie could hear Polly protesting frantically for a moment longer and then the door slammed shut.
The viscount tittered with cruel mirth.
"Now then," he said, gripping his cock in one gloved hand, "which of you will be next?"
The other women hurried to crowd around the viscount to shamelessly offer their bodies to him. The other guard took Sophie by her wrist and shoved her through the curtains and into a long hallway. The door slammed shut behind her.
Ahead, she could hear music and laughter, moans of pleasure, and faintly receding in the distance, a young woman screaming in terror. The party was spread among rooms where partygoers indulged in their every dark delight. Women with red ribbons tied around their necks were being used, molested, punished, and pleasured. Whips cracked. Huge phalluses thrust into stretched holes. Discordant music played. Water – or was it piss? – splashed onto a naked body. Somewhere, in the depths of the darkness, something was growling like a beast.
A hooded servant thrust a tray of drinks into Sophie’s hands and gave her a push into a parlor lit red with torches. There, upon a pile of cushions, men and women writhed in a contiguous heap of pleasure. There was no concern for whether a woman was with a woman or a man with a man, it was simply groping, thrusting, shuddering flesh. Though covered with incense, the stench of sex was thick in the air.
The heat of the bodies drew sweat from Sophie’s face. Hands reached out and grabbed at her legs. A tongue dragged across her toes. She stood over the scene with her tray of drinks, watching in the red light, torchlit shadows moving over thrusting bodies so that the motions were exaggerated. Sophie seemed to stand on the shore of a sea of writhing flesh.
A man came crawling out of the mass. Sagging and elderly. Sheened with sweat. He hauled himself to his feet, his torso marked with dark, bulging deformity. His cock seemingly split in two down its length and dripping with his seed. He smiled at Sophie and grabbed a drink from her tray.
“You’re a new one,” he said, caressing her face with a hand that stunk of semen. He gulped the drink and took another. “Why not join in?”
“The drinks,” said Sophie, smiling warily.
A hunchbacked man with one bulging eye appeared at Sophie’s side, his smile crooked and bucktoothed, his belly a taut ball, and his cock a massive, mottled thing that resembled the sort that might hang beneath a donkey.
“This one’s a fine one,” said the hunchback, reaching around Sophie and roughly groping her bare breasts.
“Yes, mm, pity about all these drinks,” said the sweaty old man, taking another from the tray and gulping it down so that it overflowed his mouth and splashed down his saggy body. His eyes sparkled with mischief as he took another drink. And another.
The hunchback was still squeezing and shaping Sophie’s fat tits. Pinching at her nipples as he began to chuckle and lick at her shoulder and back. She could feel his cock brushing against the backs of her thighs and the mark on the back of her neck pulsed with need.
“Please,” gasped Sophie, feeling a warm ache in her cunt. “Please… I must attend to more guests.”
Sophie knew just as well as these two disgusting men that her resistance was useless. They laughed and fondled her as they drank the cups from her tray and tossed them aside. Their naked bodies sandwiched her, and their hands went where they pleased on her body. Her skirt was torn away, and her panties ripped off in a single yank from the hunchback.
The old man with the split cock began loudly slurping and gumming at her tits. The hunchback began rubbing himself against her, gyrating his hips and smearing pre from his stiff cock all over her ass and the backs of her thighs.
“Fun time,” laughed the hunchback. “Celebration time.”
“Wh-what are we celebrating?” gasped Sophie, fighting the urge to push back against the hunchback’s fat cock as she watched the old man slurping at her tender tits.
“The moon!” laughed the old man, lifting his face from Sophie’s breasts. “The moon is almost right! Just two days now and we’ll be ready. Lady Perfetta is—”
“Shut it, Cowver!” growled the hunchback. “This one’s new. Don’t talk about that in front of her.”
Lady Perfetta? Sophie had no idea who that was, and she couldn’t much ask a follow-up question as the old man cackled gleefully and planted a kiss to her lips. His fat tongue thrust into her mouth and the hunchback, seizing the opportunity, plunged his donkey-sized cock into Sophie’s dripping snatch.
“Mmmmm!” cried Sophie, tasting the strong drink on the old man’s tongue as her slick cunt was plundered by the hunchback.
She was being fucked scarcely three paces from the orgy and could hear the cries of the women as the men thrust into them from every side. She could hear the rasp of cocks on flesh, the slap of skin on skin, and the wet sound of fucking. The unique musk of sex was thick in the air, and the heat of so many bodies pressed together started Sophie’s skin breaking out in sweat. She dug her fingernails into the old man’s back and ground her cunt back against the fat cock of the hunchback.
The old man pulled his mouth from Sophie’s, leaving a trail of saliva that glistened in the red torchlight. He grinned evilly and nodded at the hunchback.
Together, the old man and the hunchback dragged Sophie down to the floor. Onto her back. The donkey-dicked hunchback and the saggy old man having their way with her from both ends. The hunchback climbed between Sophie's thick thighs and his massive cock plunged in and out of her pussy and kept Sophie's tits bouncing with each thrust. The old man knelt beside her head and grabbed Sophie's hair. He shoved the split halves of his cock to her face, smearing her lips and chin with his precum.
"Ohhhhh," moaned Sophie, eyes rolling and the darkborne mark sending pulses of fiery lust through her body. She parted her lips and offered her mouth to the old man. He cackled with glee and thrust his bifurcated fuckmeat at Sophie's face.
Sophie worked her tongue around the ragged halves of the man's cockhead, licking at the droplets of precum that leaked from it. She sucked one half, the other, and then both into her mouth at once. Joining the halves with her eager sucking. She felt her pussy tightening around the fat cock invading it and moaned again as she tasted the old man's filthy, well-used cock.
"Mmmmmm, yes," moaned Sophie, bobbing her head on the old man's cock and lathering it in her spit as the hunchback thrust into her. The walls of her cunt squeezed the fat intruder.
"How does it feel, slut?" grunted the hunchback, fucking her faster and harder, his wet balls slapping against her ass as his cock stretched her cunt.
"Ohhhhh…" gasped Sophie, panting and moaning as she bobbed her head on the old man's cock. "Ohhhhh…"
The old man laughed and pulled his cock from Sophie's mouth. It left her lips smeared with his precum. Before she could lick it off, he slid his cock between her tits. He leaned forward and shoved her mounds together as the hunchback fucked harder, and Sophie's body flushed with heat. The old man’s drooping balls hung in Sophie’s face and she had no choice, thanks to the urgent throbbing of the mark, but to lick and suck at the old man’s swinging sack.
The old man cackled madly and tensed with pleasure. His grip on Sophie's tits tightened and he pulled his split cock from between her cleavage, jerking himself off with both hands as the hunchback continued to thrust into her. White-hot cum exploded from the old man's cock, firing in two directions at once, splattering Sophie's face and tits with thick, slimy spunk.
She gasped in pleasure at the sensation, feeling the warmth of his cum coating her body and dripping down her face. She tasted the saltiness of the man's cum on her lips and his dangling balls dragged across her tongue.
"Ohhhhhhhh," moaned Sophie, looking up with wild eyes, her shuddering tits glazed in spunk.
"Ahhhhh! I'm fuckin' cumming! Ohhhh, you perfect whore!" The hunchback threw back his head and hilted his huge cock inside Sophie. He howled with his release and Sophie came with him, her cunt gripping his pumping pillar as he drenched her depths in his warm seed. Hot, oily liquid trickled out around his balls as he collapsed atop Sophie.
The two men were exhausted and out of breath, but Sophie, invigorated by her darkborne mark, was ready and eager for more. Her lovers crawled off without offering a word of thanks. They left her smeared with cum and leaking it from her stretched cunt. She climbed to her feet, narrowly resisting the urge to surrender herself to the pulsing desire of her mark and join the thrusting, moaning pile of the orgy.
She needed to know more. Who was this Lady Perfetta and what did the moon have to do with the plans of the viscount and his cult? She found her tray, but her clothing was ruined. Wearing nothing but the red ribbon around her neck – not to mention a liberal coating of spunk – Sophie retreated from the orgy room and back out into the hall. She was determined to find answers about the cult’s plan and the Blasted Cathedral.
At least, that’s the excuse Sophie made to herself as she accepted another tray of drinks from a hooded servant and ventured deeper into the party.
There was no lack of possible sources to be interrogated. In the next room she met a trio of skinny older women who put Sophie to use as their footstool. They took turns making Sophie bathe their toes with her willing mouth as they drank the cups from her tray. She licked and sucked each foot presented to her.
“The Vulgar Prince awakens,” said one of the older women as she guided Sophie between her legs and fed Sophie her hot, red-tufted cunt. Sophie licked the woman obediently and listened closely.
“The viscount had best be right this time,” said the woman next to her. “After all the coin he squandered during the last moon, some of his benefactors are demanding results.”
“Oh, I hope the ritual fails,” said the third woman, idly rubbing her cunt and waiting for her turn with Sophie’s tongue.
“Do you not believe?” hissed the first woman.
“Of course,” the woman replied quickly, seeming to realize she had overstepped. “It’s just that… won’t these parties end once the Vulgar Prince arises? They are ever so much fun. Why, I haven’t been fucked this well since those orc slaves were brought in from—”
The woman seemed to notice that Sophie was watching her.
“Pay attention to what you are doing with your tongue,” snarled the woman. “These presumptuous whores. Thinking they are going to escape.”
The trio of women slapped Sophie and yanked her hair and seemed to take great pleasure forcing her to lick. One would twist her fingers into Sophie’s hair and rub Sophie’s face against the cunt of another woman, commanding her to lick and suck and spanking Sophie’s ass. Between the wine and Sophie’s well-practiced tongue, the women came several times each and were reduced to muttering puddles on the sofa they shared.
Sophie, invigorated by their pleasure, crawled away, and left the three cruel women exhausted. The party was still in full swing elsewhere.
Many of the partygoers suffered from grotesque deformities. Others seemed perfectly human. The only universal commonality Sophie noticed was that every one of the partygoers seemed to have the symbol of the six-fingered hand somewhere on their bodies. For some it was a tattoo, others a brand, and for others it seemed to have manifested naturally. Or supernaturally. Pustules, scars, moles, and birthmarks all depicted the six-fingered hand. On some bodies the symbol was precise and detailed, on others it was crude and irregular.
Each time Sophie looked, she found it.
“They say the viscount will ascend,” murmured one partygoer, petting Sophie’s head as he lazily fucked her in the ass.
“Mmmmmm,” replied the woman beneath Sophie suckling on her dangling tits.
“Yes, I agree,” said the other man, a scaly wretch with a single red eye and an empty eye socket as he fucked his little cock in and out of Sophie’s mouth and smacked his balls against her chin. “Lady Perfetta has no idea what she is in for. Ohhhhh… fuck!”
The man groaned and pumped his seed down Sophie’s throat. She swallowed obediently as she felt the man behind her squirting his seed up her plush bottom. The woman beneath Sophie bucked her hips and urgently fucked herself with a carved stone dildo, slurping at Sophie’s breast so hard that her nipple began to hurt.
Sophie fucked ten men. Twenty. Bucking atop them, writhing beneath them, stretched out between them like a bridge between its towers. Half a dozen men surrounded her and expected her to drain their cocks. She satisfied them with her hands, her mouth, and between her soft tits. A pair of fat ladies rode Sophie around in a courtyard and plugged her ass with a horse’s tail dildo. When they had their fun Sophie knelt between their thick, dimpled thighs and licked their shaved cunts to ecstasy.
Sophie was made to stroke men into a chalice and drink their seed while they cheered. She was spanked, whipped, and violated with dildos. Drizzled with hot wax. Her head was thrust into water as one man fucked her ass. He nearly drowned her, but her convulsing asshole drove him over the brink, and he let her up from the water.
She saw the other girls with red ribbons around their necks being carried out, exhausted, injured, or perhaps even worse, until she was alone with the last guests. Fucking a man who looked more like an ape than a man and had a huge six-fingered hand burned into his chest.
“This is the best you’ve ever found,” called the ape man, roughly spanking Sophie’s ass and bouncing her atop his cock. “She seems to grow more eager with each passing hour.”
“She has exhausted my entire guestlist,” chuckled the viscount, swinging a cane as he wandered about the room surveying the carnage. It was true. As dawn drew near, the last of the guests had gathered in a single lounge and Sophie had drained them of all their energy. Some were sleeping already; others were awake but slumped over wearily on cushions and couches.
Although Sophie was wide awake and gamely riding the ape man’s cock, her mind was on the evil ritual the viscount wanted to perform. She knew it was to be done in two days, when the moon was perfect, and involved somehow sacrificing a woman named Lady Perfetta to a god or demigod called the Vulgar Prince.
Sophie had also heard someone mutter the name “Astarkoth” which had sent a shudder through her body merely to hear spoken softly. She thought the Vulgar Prince and Astarkoth might be the same entity. Supposedly, the viscount would be rewarded for this sacrifice, gaining some boon or power of darkborne magic, although this part was not clear because the partygoers did not seem to understand it fully themselves.
The one thing Sophie had still not quite discovered was the precise location of the Blasted Cathedral. It was marked on her map, yes, but fumbling about in wooded mountains at night in search of ruins was another matter. There were no remaining roads to the Blasted Cathedral. No pilgrimage paths.
Will Mardoch show me the way when the time comes? wondered Sophie. I cannot rely on such miracles. I must find the way myself.
