Vanished Sisters: The Lycan King's Slave Island Chapter 47

Lucy's POV

Roderic's cock hit that spot inside me with every thrust, his earlier attention to my clit had already brought me close to the edge, and now—

"You're going to cum for me," Roderic said, his voice strained. "I can feel it. Feel how your cunt is getting tighter. Gripping me like it never wants to let go."

"No—" I whimpered.

"Yes." He reached around again, his fingers finding my clit, rubbing with brutal efficiency. "Cum on my cock. Show me what a good little whore you are."

The pleasure built higher. Higher. Pressure coiling in my belly, my legs shaking, my whole body tensing—

And then I shattered.

The orgasm ripped through me like lightning, my inner walls clamping down on Roderic's cock, my mouth opening in a silent scream as wave after wave of unwanted pleasure crashed over me.

"Fuck yes," Roderic groaned. "There it is. Milk my cock. Squeeze every drop out of me."

He kept thrusting through my orgasm, prolonging it, making it last until I thought I might actually pass out from the intensity.

But he wasn't done.

Not even close.

He pulled out suddenly, making me whimper at the loss, then spun me around to face him. Before I could even process what was happening, he lifted me bodily—one arm under my ass, the other behind my back—and slammed me against the wall.

"Wrap your legs around me," he ordered.

I did, my arms going around his neck automatically for balance.

And then he was inside me again, gravity driving him even deeper than before.

I cried out, the new angle hitting different spots, creating different sensations.

"This is my favorite position," Roderic panted, his hips pistoning upward.

His words should have disgusted me. Should have made me fight, rebel, refuse.

But I was too far gone. Too overwhelmed by sensation. My body responded whether I wanted it to or not.

Minutes passed. Or hours. I lost track of time.

All I knew was the rhythm of his thrusts. The sound of our bodies meeting. The way my back scraped against the rough stone wall with each movement.

And the pleasure. The cursed, unwanted pleasure that kept building no matter how much I tried to shut it down.

"I'm getting close," Roderic said, his voice rough. "Going to fill you up. Pump you full of my cum until it's dripping out of you."

His hand moved from my back to my throat.

*Oh no. Not this. Please not this.*

But I knew what was coming. Had experienced it enough times to recognize the pattern.

Roderic had a particular kink. One that terrified me every single time.

He liked to choke me while he came.

"You know what to do," he said, his amber eyes boring into mine. "Hold on tight. And try not to pass out this time."

"Roderic, please—" I started.

But it was too late.

His hand closed around my throat. Not gently. Not carefully. With brutal, crushing force.

My airway closed off completely. No air in. No air out. Just immediate, total suffocation.

I clawed at his wrist instinctively, my survival instinct kicking in, but his grip was iron.

"That's it," he murmured, his thrusts getting faster, harder. "Fight for me. I love when you fight."

My lungs burned. My vision started to tunnel. Black spots appeared at the edges of my sight.

And through it all, he kept fucking me. Kept driving into me with that same brutal rhythm.

His other hand moved between us, finding my clit again, rubbing with practiced precision.

No. Not while he's choking me. I can't—

But my body didn't care. It was too much stimulation. Too many sensations. The pleasure from my clit, the pressure of his cock inside me, the terrifying thrill of oxygen deprivation—

They all combined into something overwhelming. Something I couldn't fight.

My second orgasm built impossibly fast. Driven by fear and lack of oxygen and pure physical stimulation.

My face felt hot. Swollen. I could feel my eyes starting to roll back.

I'm going to die. He's going to kill me. I'm going to die with his cock inside me.

"Almost there," Roderic groaned. "Just a little more. Hold on just a little—"

The world was fading. Going dark. I couldn't think anymore. Couldn't process anything except the desperate need for air and the building pressure in my core.

And then—

Release.

Not from his hand. That stayed tight around my throat.

But from his cock.

I felt him swell inside me. Felt the first pulse of hot cum flooding my channel. And that sensation—combined with the continued rubbing of my clit—pushed me over the edge.

My third orgasm was different from the others. Sharper. More intense. Driven by oxygen deprivation and terror and pure animal response.

My inner walls clenched rhythmically around him, milking every drop of cum from his cock. My whole body convulsed, caught between pleasure and the encroaching darkness of unconsciousness.

And through it all, he kept his hand on my throat. Kept squeezing. Kept watching my face as I came and suffocated simultaneously.

"Beautiful," he breathed. "You're so fucking beautiful when you're like this."

The darkness closed in further. My struggles weakened. My hands fell from his wrist.

*This is it. This is how I die.*

And then—just as I felt myself starting to slip away completely—he released my throat and let go of me.

I fell onto the ground.

Air rushed back into my lungs in a painful, gasping flood. I coughed and choked, my body shaking violently.

But the orgasm kept going. Kept rolling through me in wave after overwhelming wave.

Too much. It was all too much.

My vision whited out completely. My body went limp.

And I felt myself falling—

Into darkness—

Into nothing—