Chapter 12 PART 5

"I want you to stand up," Fereyan says, his voice low and commanding.

Fereyan, seeing her trembling before him, smirks with dark amusement, his eyes glinting with a fierce, dominant intensity. He leans down, his hand gripping her chin with a firm, unyielding pressure, forcing her to look into his eyes.

"Stand up," he commands, his voice low and menacing. "Stand up and look into my eyes, as deeply as you can without getting overwhelmed by my supernatural gaze. And if you fail, Tolius here will remind you of your place with his special whip."

She takes a deep, shuddering breath, her body trembling with the intensity of her emotions, as she tries to find the strength to obey. Slowly, painfully, she begins to stand up, her legs shaking with the effort, as she prepares to do as he commands.

As she stands before him, her eyes fixed on his with a mixture of fear and desperation, she can feel the weight of his gaze, the electrifying energy pulsing with a fierce, dominant intensity. She tries to hold his gaze, to look deeply into his eyes without getting overwhelmed by the supernatural pleasure that emanates from them.

"W-What even, Fereyan?" she asks in confusion, bathing in the arousal his eyes gives.

Fereyan, seeing the confusion and arousal mingling in her eyes, chuckles darkly, his eyes glinting with a fierce, dominant intensity. He leans in closer, his breath hot against her skin.

"You want to know why my gaze is so intoxicating?" he says, his voice low and taunting. "Why it fills you with such overwhelming pleasure and desire?" He leans back, his posture tall and commanding, as he watches her tremble before him.

"It's a gift," he says, his voice low and menacing. "A gift from the gods themselves, bestowed upon me for my unwavering devotion to their desires." He leans in closer, his lips brushing against her ear, his voice low and taunting.

"The gods saw fit to grant me this power, to allow me to bend others to my will with nothing more than a glance," he says, his voice dripping with malevolence. "And you, my dear, are just the latest victim to fall under my spell."

He pulls back, his eyes locking with hers once more, as he watches her tremble before him, her body shaking with the intensity of her emotions. "You feel it, don't you?" he says, his voice low and taunting. "The overwhelming pleasure, the desire that courses through your veins, the need to submit to my every command?"

She nods, her body trembling with the effort, as she tries to hold back her tears, to find the strength to obey his every command. Fereyan, seeing her submission, sneers, enjoying the sight of her on her knees before him.

Tolius, seeing her struggle, his eyes glinting with a fierce, predatory intensity. He moves closer to her, his body looming over her, as he begins to taunt her, his voice low and menacing.

"You're failing," he says, his voice dripping with disdain. "You're getting overwhelmed by Fereyan's gaze, losing yourself in the pleasure. Do you need a reminder of your place, of what happens when you disappoint us?"

"N-No, s-..." she stops abruptly, realizing that she doesn't have the right to call him 'sir'. She doesn't know if she's allowed, and she doesn't want to embarrass herself even further. Her voice trails off, leaving the unfinished honorific hanging in the air, a testament to her uncertainty and fear.

Tolius, noticing her hesitation, chuckles darkly, his eyes flashing with a fierce, dominant intensity. He leans in closer, his breath hot against her skin, as he begins to speak, his voice low and taunting.

"You don't know what to call me, do you?" he says, his voice dripping with disdain. "You don't know your place, your role in this little game we're playing." He leans back, his posture tall and commanding, as he watches her tremble before him.

The General intervenes, his voice filled with amusement "I allow you to call him 'sir', don't worry," he says, his tone mocking yet reassuring.

Tolius smirks, his eyes glinting with anticipation. "Can't wait for you to slip, to give us a reason to punish you," he taunts, his voice low and menacing.

The General chuckles, his posture relaxed yet commanding. "You better be careful," he warns, "lest you give us a reason to teach you a lesson in submission and obedience."

She nods, trembling, as she tries to obey their every command. The General and Tolius smiles playfully, enjoying her struggle to please them and avoid punishment.

She shudders, breaking down in tears as she looks down, trembling. "I'm confused..." she says, her voice barely audible. "I thought I'm not allowed to call anyone else 'sir' since the General is the most powerful...?"

Fereyan and Tolius almost feel a twinge of pity at the sight of her crying, but their cocks grow hard again, aroused by her vulnerability and submission. The General growns in satisfaction, enjoying the sight of her torment and confusion.

"The decision is yours," he says, his voice filled with dark amusement. "Your own weight to carry. Are they worth it? Am I worth being degraded? Will you get punished for that? Will you not?"

His words add more confusion and torment to her already fragile psyche, making her tremble even more. She looks up at him, her eyes filled with tears and uncertainty, as she tries to find the strength to make a decision, to choose between the lesser of three evils.

The General, seeing her struggle, sneers with dark satisfaction, enjoying the sight of her torment and confusion. He leans back in his chair, his posture relaxed yet commanding, as he watches her tremble before them, her body shaking with the intensity of her emotions.

"You better choose wisely," he warns, his voice low and taunting. "For the consequences of your decision will be yours to bear, yours to suffer through, until you learn your place, until you submit to our every desire."

She nods, as she tries to hold back her tears, to find the strength to make a decision, to choose between the lesser of two evils. The General, Fereyan, and Tolius, seeing her submission, enjoys the sight of her on her knees before them, her body shaking with the intensity of her emotions, knowing that her struggle to please them and avoid punishment will only add to their twisted enjoyment.

Fereyan growls, his eyes locked on her like a feral animal, as he demands, "Choose, now. Who do you call 'sir'?" His tone is playful, yet there's an underlying threat that sends shivers down her spine, as if her very life hangs in the balance.

Tolius, not wanting to be left out of the torment, intervenes with a fierce intensity. He grabs her neck, his fingers digging into her flesh, and pushes her to the floor with such strength that blood recoils from her insides, pooling at the side of her mouth. "So?" he asks, his voice low and menacing. "Who is it?"

The General, maintaining his stoic poker face, plays along with the game. He growns, tapping his fingers impatiently on the armrest of his chair, his eyes fixed on her with a fierce, dominant intensity.

The tormented decision weighs heavily on her, caught between three feral beings who seem to derive pleasure from her suffering. They torment her over something that holds no real significance to them, yet they relish in the power they hold over her, the ability to make her squirm and tremble with fear and uncertainty.

For them, it's all a game, a sick and twisted form of entertainment that feeds their dark desires. They watch her struggle, their eyes glinting with a fierce, predatory intensity, as they wait for her to make a decision, to choose between the lesser of two evils.

She trembles, her body shaking with the intensity of her emotions, as she tries to find the strength to make a decision, to choose between the three feral beings who hold her fate in their hands. The weight of their expectations and desires presses down upon her, suffocating her, as she struggles to hold back her tears, to find the strength to obey their every command.

As she yells out in pain, her eyes lock onto Tolius, a look of betrayal etched across her face. The sudden impact of being thrown to the ground by him sends shockwaves through her body, leaving her gasping for air and shuddering, crying harder than before. The realization that she cannot escape, that she is trapped in this game, weighs heavily on her, and she closes her eyes, knowing that no matter who she chooses, she will still face punishment from the other two.

The uncertainty of the power dynamics between Tolius, Fereyan, and the General adds to her torment. She is unaware of the true extent of Tolius and Fereyan's strength compared to the General, but the fear of the unknown, coupled with the overwhelming presence of the General, pushes her to make a decision.

Out of fear, she steels herself, preparing for the consequences of her choice. Her heart races, pounding against her chest like a caged animal, as she musters the courage to speak, her voice trembling with the weight of her decision.

"I... I choose..." she stammers, her voice barely audible over the sound of her own heartbeat. The room seems to close in around her, the air thick with tension and anticipation, as she struggles to form the words, to make her choice known to the three feral beings who hold her fate in their hands.

The General, Fereyan, and Tolius lean in closer, their eyes glinting with a fierce, predatory intensity, as they wait for her to finish her sentence, to reveal the name of the one she has chosen to call 'sir'.

Fereyan continues to use his supernatural gaze upon her, his eyes boring into her very soul as he commands, "Choose now." His tone is serious and unyielding, the weight of his words pressing down upon her like a physical force. She feels her resolve crumbling under the intensity of his gaze, her lips parting as if to speak, when suddenly, Tolius springs into action.

Moving with a speed and agility that belies his size, Tolius swiftly muffles her mouth with his hand, his eyes flashing with a mixture of anger and protectiveness. "It's not fair, you're using your powers!" he growls, his voice low and menacing. "Let her choose!"

Fereyan, hearing Tolius's accusation, merely laughs, a dark, sinister sound that sends shivers down her spine. "Not my fault I got them," he replies, his tone nonchalant and unapologetic. "You should have taken your own pair." His laughter takes on a devilish quality, as if he is reveling in the chaos and turmoil he is causing.

Undeterred by Tolius's intervention, Fereyan fixes his gaze upon her once more, his eyes blazing with an otherworldly intensity. "Bite his hand, doll," he commands, his voice low and seductive, sending a rush of energy coursing through her body. The sensation is almost unbearable, a mixture of pleasure and pain that leaves her whimpering and trembling, her body betraying her even as her mind struggles to resist.

Tolius, sensing the change in her, cautiously removes his hand from her mouth, his eyes narrowing as he watches her intently. Fereyan, seeing his opportunity, intensifies his gaze upon her, his presence looming over her like a dark, ominous tower. He reaches out, grasping her chin between his fingers, and tilts her head upwards, forcing her to meet his gaze.

"Choose now," he repeats, his voice a low, seductive purr that seems to reverberate through her very being. Unable to resist any longer, she lets out a soft, shuddering breath, her voice barely audible as she whispers, "Sir...Please..Let me go.." The word is a sign of submission, a testament to her choice, and the power that Fereyan now holds over her.

Tolius, seeing her capitulation, clenches his jaw, his eyes flashing with a mixture of anger and disappointment. He begins to gather energy in his right fist, as if preparing for a confrontation, his body tense and coiled like a spring.

The General, observing the scene with a mixture of amusement and detachment, lets out a low, rumbling growl at the sound of her decision. Though he knows that the game they are playing is little more than a farce, a means of tormenting and manipulating her for their own twisted pleasure, he cannot help but feel a twinge of satisfaction at her choice.

In a playful, yet menacing tone, he says, "Well, it seems our little lamb has made her decision. Let the games begin." His words, though spoken in jest, carry an unmistakable undertone of dark promise, a reminder that her choice has only served to deepen the web of intrigue and danger that surrounds her.

Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation.

Tolius reaches out, his hand gripping her wrist with a firm, unyielding pressure, as he pulls her close to him, his breath hot against her face. He holds up the whip, letting it glint in the light, enjoying the way her eyes widen with fear and anticipation as punishment.

"Look into Fereyan's eyes," he commands, his voice low and menacing. "Look deeply, without getting overwhelmed. And every time you fail, every time you lose yourself in the pleasure, you'll feel the sting of my whip, a reminder of your place, of your purpose."

She looks up at him, her eyes wide with fear and desperation, as she tries to find the strength to obey. Slowly, painfully, she begins to look into Fereyan's eyes, her body trembling with the effort, as she tries to hold his gaze, to avoid the sting of Tolius's whip.

The atmosphere is charged with a fierce, dominant energy, the air thick with the weight of their dark desires. She can feel their eyes on her, their gazes burning with a fierce, predatory intensity, as she struggles to hold back her tears, to find the strength to obey their every command.

As she looks into Fereyan's eyes, she can feel the supernatural pleasure washing over her, the electrifying energy pulsing with a fierce, dominant intensity. She tries to hold his gaze, to look deeply into his eyes without getting overwhelmed, but the pleasure is too much, too intense, and she feels herself slipping, losing herself in the sensation.

Tolius, seeing her fail, smirks with dark amusement, his eyes glinting with a fierce, predatory intensity. He raises the whip, bringing it down on her flesh with a sharp, stinging crack, enjoying the way her body jerks with the pain, the way her eyes widen with fear and desperation.

"Again," he commands, his voice low and menacing.

As she struggles to maintain eye contact with Fereyan, her willpower shudders, and she falls to her knees in front of him, her body trembling with the effort. "I... can't... anymore... please," she says, her voice shaking with every breath, as she looks up at him with a mixture of fear and desperation.

Fereyan, seeing her on her knees before him, sneers with dark amusement, his eyes glinting with a fierce, dominant intensity. He leans down, his hand gripping her chin with a firm, unyielding pressure, forcing her to look into his eyes once more.

"You want me to end your turmoil?" he says, his voice low and menacing. "You want me to release you from the overwhelming pleasure of my gaze?" He leans in closer, his lips brushing against her ear, his voice low and taunting. "Then show me your submission, your complete and utter devotion to my desires."

He releases her chin, letting her head fall forward, as he takes a step back, his posture tall and commanding. He glances over at the General, who nods in agreement, his eyes glinting with dark anticipation.

"I want you to hold my right leg," Fereyan says, his voice low and commanding. "Hold it tightly, like it's your only lifeline, your only source of comfort in this world of overwhelming pleasure and pain. And while you hold it, I want you to plead, to beg for me to end your turmoil, to release you from the intensity of my gaze."

She reaches out, her hands trembling with the effort, as she grasps his right leg, holding it tightly, like it's her only lifeline in this world of overwhelming sensation.

As she holds his leg, she begins to plead, her voice shaking with every breath, as she begs for him to end her turmoil, to release her from the intensity of his gaze. "Please," she says, her voice thick with tears. "Please, I can't take it anymore. Release me, end my turmoil, I beg you."

Fereyan towers over her, his dark eyes glinting with a malevolent intensity as he regards her trembling form. "Please what?" he asks, his voice low and menacing, the words dripping with a darkness, seductive power that sends shivers down her spine.

She swallows hard, her throat constricting with fear and desire, as she struggles to find the words to plead her case. "Please, sir..." she manages to choke out, her voice barely more than a whisper, a desperate plea for mercy from the man who holds her fate in his hands.

Before she can finish her sentence, Tolius lashes out, his hand striking her back with a sharp, stinging blow that elicits a pained yelp from her lips. The sudden violence catches her off guard, and she instinctively tightens her grip on Fereyan's leg, as if it were the only thing keeping her anchored in the storm of sensation and emotion that threatens to overwhelm her.

Fereyan looks down at her, a cruel smile playing across his lips as he sees her clinging to him, her body trembling with fear and need.

"Mmm...plead more, pet," he murmurs, his voice low and seductive, his words caressing her like a lover's touch. "Beg for my mercy, and perhaps I shall grant it."

As he speaks, she can feel his hardness growing, pressing against her through the fabric of his clothing, a proof that her pleading has awakened within him. The knowledge that her suffering and desperation have aroused him only serves to heighten her own conflicting emotions, the fear and desire warring within her like fire and ice, tearing her apart from the inside.

Fereyan, seeing her submission, smirks, enjoying the sight of her on her knees before him, holding his leg like it's her only source of comfort. He looks down at her, his expression hard and unyielding, as he listens to her pleas, her desperate cries for release.

But despite her pleas, despite her desperate cries for release, Fereyan remains unmoved, his eyes glinting with a fierce, dominant intensity. He looks down at her, his expression hard and unyielding, as he begins to taunt her, his voice low and menacing.

"You think you deserve release?" he says, his voice dripping with disdain. "You think you've earned the right to be free from the intensity of my gaze, from the overwhelming pleasure and pain?" He leans down, his hand gripping her chin with a firm, unyielding pressure, forcing her to look into his eyes once more.

"You haven't earned anything," he says, his voice low and taunting. "You're still weak, still unable to hold my gaze without getting overwhelmed. You need to prove yourself, to show me your complete and utter devotion to my desires, before I even consider releasing you from your turmoil."

He releases her chin, letting her head fall forward, as he takes a step back, his posture tall and commanding. He glances over at the General, who nods in agreement, his eyes glinting with dark anticipation.

"Continue holding my leg," Fereyan commands, his voice low and menacing. "And continue pleading, begging for me to end your turmoil, to release you from the intensity of my gaze. And maybe, just maybe, if you prove yourself worthy, I'll grant you your release."

She looks up at him, her eyes wide with fear and desperation, as she tries to find the strength to obey. Slowly, painfully, she continues to hold his leg, her hands trembling with the effort, as she continues to plead, her voice shaking with every breath, as she begs for him to end her turmoil, to release her from the intensity of his gaze.

The atmosphere is charged with a fierce, dominant energy, the air thick with the weight of their dark, twisted desires. She can feel their eyes on her, their gazes burning with a fierce, predatory intensity, as she struggles to hold back her tears, to find the strength to obey their every command, to hold Fereyan's leg and plead for her release, despite the overwhelming pleasure and pain that courses through her body.

As she clings desperately to Fereyan's leg, her body trembling with the effort, Tolius's gaze is drawn to the vivid red line that now marks her back, a testament to the brutality of his earlier strike. The sight of her broken and bleeding skin sends a twinge of regret through him, a flicker of doubt that perhaps he had gone too far in his attempt to assert his dominance over her.

Fereyan, noticing Tolius's hesitation, sneers, his eyes glinting with a cruel, triumphant light. "What's the matter, Tolius?" he asks, his voice low and taunting. "Having second thoughts about your little display of power?"

Tolius scowls, his jaw clenching as he struggles to maintain his composure in the face of Fereyan's mocking words. "I just thought...perhaps we should take a moment to assess her condition," he replies, his voice tight and controlled, even as his eyes betray his concern for her well-being.

Fereyan laughs, a dark, sinister sound that sends shivers down her spine. "Assess her condition?" he repeats, his voice dripping with disdain. "Why bother, when her pain and suffering only serve to make her submission all the sweeter?"

As the two men argue over her, she feels her mind beginning to drift, the fog of pain and desire that clouds her thoughts growing thicker with each passing moment. The world around her seems to fade away, until all that remains is the sensation of Fereyan's leg beneath her fingers, and the sound of their voices, low and insistent, as they battle for control over her fate.

And yet, even in her haze of pain and confusion, she cannot help but feel a flicker of hope, a small, stubborn flame that refuses to be extinguished, even in the face of the darkness that threatens to consume her. It is this hope, this unshakable belief that somewhere, deep within her, she still possesses the strength to resist, to fight back against the forces that seek to control her, that gives her the courage to continue her pleas, to bare her soul before Fereyan, and beg for the mercy that she knows he may never grant.

The general interrupts the tense moment, his voice slicing through the thick air like a knife. "If you continue to fight over her like this, Fereyan, no one will emerge victorious, and she'll likely meet her demise right here on the floor, glued to your leg. You have a choice to make: either put an end to her suffering now and find alternative ways to enjoy her company, or place her in my bedroom and forget about her for the remainder of the day."

He takes a step closer, his dark eyes glinting with amusement as he continues. "Today was never about your petty disputes over who holds the title of 'sir.' It was about molding her into submission... and, as it appears, we have succeeded in that endeavor."

A sinister sneer plays across his lips, as he relishes in the knowledge that they have achieved their goal, regardless of the methods used. The room seems to grow colder as the general's words hang in the air, a silent challenge issued to Fereyan to make his decision and determine the fate of the young woman at his feet.

Fereyan's eyes flicker with a momentary hint of indecision, the weight of the general's words bearing down on him. The room seems to hold its breath, waiting for his response. After what feels like an eternity, Fereyan finally releases his grip on the woman's chin, allowing her to fall back onto the floor, gasping for breath.

A malicious grin spreads across his face as he looks down at her, a newfound sense of determination burning in his eyes. "You're right, general. We've achieved our goal, and now it's time to enjoy the fruits of our labor."

He reaches down and grabs the woman's arm, yanking her up from the floor with force. "But I have a better idea," he says, his voice dripping with cruel anticipation. "Let's see just how far her submission can truly go."

With that, he drags her across the room, her feeble attempts at resistance proving futile against his unrelenting grip. The general watches, a wicked gleam in his eye, as Fereyan pushes her towards a plush chaise lounge, forcing her to bend over the soft, velvet surface.

"I think it's time we test the limits of her devotion," Fereyan declares, his voice low and menacing as he positions himself behind her. "After all, what better way to celebrate our success than by exploring the depths of her submission?"

The general nods in agreement, his sinister smirk widening as he moves to join them. The room fills with the sounds of their twisted revelry, a dark symphony of pleasure and pain that echoes through the halls, a testament to the depths of their depravity and the true nature of their power.

ereyan reaches down and grabs her head, his fingers tangling in her hair as he tilts her face up to meet his gaze. "You belong to all of us now," he declares, his voice filled with dark satisfaction. "We are all your sirs. Sir Fereyan, Sir Tolius, and Sir General. How does that sound?"

He glances over at Tolius and the general, a wicked sneer playing across his lips as he tightens his grip on her hair, forcing her lips to press against the straining fabric of his trousers. The two other men exchange a glance, their eyes glinting with malicious amusement as they watch the scene unfold.

The woman whimpers softly, her breath warm against Fereyan's groin as she struggles to maintain eye contact with him. "Yes, Sir Fereyan," she manages to whisper, her voice trembling with a mixture of fear and reluctant submission.

Fereyan's smirk widens at her words, his free hand moving to slowly unzip his trousers, revealing the hardened evidence of his arousal. "Good girl," he purrs, his voice low and filled with promise. "Now, show your gratitude to your sirs."

He presses her face closer, forcing her to take him into her mouth, her lips stretching around his girth as he begins to thrust slowly, savoring the sensation of her warm, wet heat. The general and Tolius watch with rapt attention, their own desires growing with every passing moment.

Fereyan's grip on her hair tightens, forcing her head up to meet his gaze, her gasps for air punctuated by the sound of her ragged breathing. "You've seen me guarding and being submissive to the general with my blue angelic pure eyes sucking his cock, and maybe you thought I was a sweet, good boy, right?!" he demands, his voice filled with a dark intensity that sends shivers down her spine.

Her one open eye widens in surprise at his words, her body trembling beneath his touch as she struggles to form a response. "I... I don't know what I thought, Sir Fereyan," she stammers, her voice barely above a whisper.

Fereyan's eyes flash with a mixture of anger and amusement, his lips curling into a cruel sneer as he tilts her head further back, forcing her to look up at him. "Well, let me make one thing clear," he growls, his voice low and menacing. "I am not a sweet, good boy. I am your master, your sir, and you will obey me without question, no matter what you think you know about me."

He emphasizes his point by thrusting deeper into her mouth, causing her to gag and struggle against his grip. The general and Tolius watches, their eyes glinting with malicious pleasure as they observe the power dynamic unfolding before them.

As Fereyan continues to use her mouth for his pleasure, he can't help but feel a sense of satisfaction at the control he wields over her. Her, caught between fear and submission, can do nothing but surrender to his demands, her body and mind now a pawn in the twisted games of her new masters.

Her eyes streaming with tears, can do nothing but nod her head in agreement, her body trembling beneath Fereyan's touch. As she struggles to breathe, her mind races with thoughts of escape, of freedom from the cruel men who now control her every move.

But even as these thoughts cross her mind, she knows that there is no escape, no way to break free from the chains of submission that now bind her. She is theirs, body and soul, a plaything for their twisted desires and dark pleasures.

As Fereyan reaches his peak, his body shuddering with the force of his release, he pulls out of her mouth, his grip on her hair finally loosening. The woman collapses to the floor, gasping for air, her body shaking with a mixture of relief and fear.

The general and Tolius step forward, their eyes glinting with malicious intent as they survey the woman lying at their feet. "You've done well, Fereyan," the general says contempted.

As the two suns approaches their zenith, the general's voice pierces the air, signaling the end of their twisted games. "It's time to end this for today. It's almost noon. Surely the King came for something important, right?" He glances over at the king, his eyes questioning as he awaits an answer.

The king, his face a mask of dark satisfaction, nods slowly, his eyes never leaving the woman gasping on the floor. "Yes," he says, his voice filled with a quiet intensity. "We must attend the burial. We need to leave in a few hours to participate."

The woman, her body aching from the day's activities, can't help but feel a sense of relief at the mention of the burial, knowing that it will provide a temporary reprieve from the cruel attentions of her new masters. Her gasps fill the room, a testament to the trials she has endured, and yet, they seem to bring a sense of solace to the king, alleviating his pain in a way that only her suffering can.