The Sisterhood of Sexsassins (m/f, forced sex)
Wren has lost her past, her memories, and all that she once knew. Now she is a slave to the Sisterhood, a ruthless band of assassins that want to train her into a killing machine, capable of dealing death with every part of her body. But when Wren’s first mission takes her to a whorehouse, she’ll need to use all her tricks just to stay alive! More
Wren has lost her past, her memories, and all that she once knew. Now she is a slave to the Sisterhood, a ruthless band of assassins that want to train her into a killing machine, capable of dealing death with every part of her body. But when Wren’s first mission takes her to a whorehouse, she’ll need to use all her tricks just to stay alive!
Warning! This story contains 5,155 words including m/f sex, oral sex, anonymous sex, forced sex, and deadly orgasms and is for adults only!
“Let’s play ‘King of the Castle!’” Levicus roared to the cheers of the whorehouse.
“What’s that?” Wren asked, leaning close to Fiona.
The whore laughed, “You’ll love it. You see all those strapping men?” She pointed to the lean men of the merchant’s entourage. Already, they were taking off their clothes to the hoots of the whorehouse.
“Well, those are the guards. And Lavi- Levi- Lovi-”
“Levicus,” Wren supplied the name of her target helpfully, watching the fat merchant strip down. His chest was as hairy as a bear and his manhood was short but thick as a barrel.
“Right. Him. Well, he’s the king.”
The center of the floorhouse had been rapidly cleared so as to create a great space. One by one, the ‘guards’ were lying down, one man’s head next to another man’s foot, so that resembled nothing so much as a great snake. A snake with pricks sticking up every six feet.
“Conquer the guards,” Fiona giggled, “And try to make it to the king!”
Wren wrinkled her head, not quite understanding. “Conquer.”
“You know,” Fiona slapped between Wren’s legs, “Make them cum. Of course if they make you cum, you’re out. And the next girl gets to try.”
Wren swallowed, suddenly aware of the aching heat where Fiona’s hand had touched. There were at least a dozen lithe men on the ground. She could already imagine their young, hot cocks inside her, ravishing her, one after another, a relentless-
She shook her head, trying to clear it, but the smoke of the whorehouse had made her drowsy and hot. Her own sweat trickled down her back and between her breasts.
Each of the whores wrapped a piece of her hair around a stick and handed it to the owner.