*Enjoy the second chapter of the series!*
*****
The voices. They were calling him.
Tremoring, hallowing, out from the darkness, like the call of a faraway mystic.
Why do you want to be a Rebel, Ashwin?
...What do you fight for?
She placed her hands around his manhood. She worked her throat, swallowing, working the saliva around her mouth, wetting her lips, flicking the tip of her tongue against the insides of her front-teeth. Getting herself ready.
Are you aware of the many dangers that come with it?
She spat. Once, twice, three times, on his cockhead, shaft and balls. Her hands stroked where she spat, spreading the lubricant all over him until their skin almost became frictionless.
Do you know what we fight for?
Freedom.
She stroked. Harder. Quicker. Louder. Pulling, fondling at his balls. Watching his closed eyes with her open ones. Curious. Marvelling at his manhood. Awed. Never seen anyone, anything thing, like him, like this.
It's an elusive thing, freedom. It's a hard concept to understand. Sometimes, freedom means when you have nothing but know you can have everything.
Her mouth opened. She was trembling with excitement. She was ready to taste him. She was still horny from before, with the lesser men. She wanted to the real deal now. She opened her lips wide. She closed them around him. Her eyes rolled at the taste of his flesh. Healthy flesh. Tongue licking, tasting. Salty, but good. Delicious. She sucked. Harder. Deeper. Her head bobbed. Her hair swayed. Her throat gagged. But she did not stop or hesitate. This was what she was born for.
And she fucking loved it.
You will be tempted by pleasures. You will be seduced by infinite beauty and unlimited money. But you will not give in. You will keep fighting. You will look ahead. You must not turn into stone.
You must not look back.
She wanted more of him. This was not enough. She pushed further. Her hands on his hips now. She looked up. Stared at his handsome face. She loved him. He was her prize. He was chosen for her. He was hers.
Deeper. Faster. Her eardrums vibrated with the sound of her own sucking. Her own choking. Her chin, her breasts, her knees, the floor tainted with her sticky, plentiful saliva. But she would not stop. Not before she got what she wanted.
So are you ready? Do you want to follow this path? Do you want to venture into the sinful darkness and emerge into the innocent light?
NUK! NUK! NUK! NUK! Grunting, now. Impatient. Humming in her throat. Her entire body working. Her toes pushing into the floor, underneath her thighs, aiding her gyrations. Her hands grabbing at his sides, pulling him in and out. Crazed with lust. A demonic succubus, draining her victim. Sucking. Fucking her own mind out. A sudden, deep groan urged from his throat. She looked up at him in triumph. She tasted the salt of her own tears and the sweet of his pre-cum. His muscles flexing, his breathing getting faster. His hips began to buckle. Her own genitalia twitched, decorating the floor with specks of her own shiny ejaculate.
It was coming. It was coming any second.
So what will it be, Ashwin?
Any moment now. It was coming.
What do you fight for?
A roar emitted from his throat and his whole body woke. It was as if he emerged from a deep sleep, surfacing from the depths of a black ocean, gasping and shaking. Every thread of muscle was shaking as he came to his senses. His hands were balled and toes digging into his own feet. He could feel the strength leave him. He could feel all energy seeping away in involuntary thrusts of his hips. They left in packets, and he could almost count them. He eyes rolling, he managed to look down. He could see a face, a beautiful face, and long black hair. A set of eyes, a red mouth. She was...crying? Tears streaming down her face. He wondered why. Her chin was pressed hard against his testicles. Her hands clawing at his sides, shredding a few layers of skin.
Freedom.
His eyes dropped and he slept again.
****
The Judge bowed in the darkness, his bald head gleaming under the only lamp on the desk before him, the only light source in the room. His partner, though much larger in size, looked even more anxious. His head was bowed as well, if not lower. Before them sat a figure far more intimidating and powerful. His face was shrouded in the darkness, unseen, yet his outline was menacing enough. If there was anything that could keep a thin line between Judic men's sexual lust and the Cupids, it was him. They called him the Lord, and little was known about him. All they knew was that he tolerated nothing, cruel and decisive, a man that even the Judic King respected and feared. The two pathetic Judic judges went without saying: they were terrified under the Lord's presence.
"My Lord, I have good news."
"What is it?" His voice was soft yet firm.
"Report from our department matches the identification from the frontline. The boy is indeed who they thought it was."
The Lord's smile was seen even in the darkness. "His status?"
"Unscathed, my Lord," the Judge replied. "He is in fit condition."
"Very good. Who has been assigned to his service?"
"Elena De Viar, my Lord. She is the seventh Cupid in service, Made just yesterday."
"I trust you two have examined her well?" the Judge's tone was of amusement now.
The short Judge giggled like a little girl. His friend gave him a frown which shut him up. "Yes my Lord, she is without doubt, one of, if not the best."
"Excellent. Make sure she is under exclusive service to our newly acquired asset."
The short Judge gave a small squeal of jealousy. The Lord's head snapped toward him and the Judge immediately bowed his head in terror. "You have an objection?" he muttered darkly.
"No, my Lord!" whimpered the Judge pathetically.