Chapter 26: Silence

[Caution: this chapter contains violent and semi/nonconsensual sex. Simbelmynë is a flower that crowns the burial mounds of Rohan.]

Éowyn jerked against the restraints that bound her wrists to her ankles, but they were hopelessly tight. For a time they left her lying on the cold floor, but then a rope looped through her collar dragged her to an uncomfortable kneeling position, her arms still locked behind her. Blindfolded and trussed, she could only wait and listen, gnawing on her litany of silent recrimination. I gave into my lust for Khamûl’s towering manhood so easily, losing any sense of perspective. Did I really think getting away would be so easy that I could carve out time for a few orgasms before escaping? I can’t make that mistake again. Yet even as she berated herself, she felt a tingle deep in her loins. What strange power does his cock have over me? Yes, it’s a magnificent edifice, but he’s right: what could I — or anyone — possibly do with such a bludgeon save admire it? It’s too big.

Again she admonished herself. Why am I worried about his needs? I have to focus on my own. Why spare a thought for him at all, save to the extent that he may eventually prove useful? Is it the simple fact of my imprisonment? Does this ongoing torture without hope somehow inflame my already twisted desires? Would I be so easily tempted were I not suffering ongoing sexual victimization? I’ve given into my basest urges at times, and not always in ideal circumstances or with positive outcomes, but never before has my very existence been at risk. And yet I but repeat my previous mistakes. What is this terrible conflation of suffering and sexuality doing to me?

Her reverie was interrupted by a hand gripping her hair, pushing her head forward until her neck strained against the collar. She could feel another rope being threaded through the rings, the loose ends falling to dangle over her breasts and across her thighs. The same hand now jerked her head back, tilting it upward to face an unseen foe.

“Open your mouth.” The speaker, his rasp harsh and weedy, was unfamiliar. She didn’t refuse, but neither did she comply.

From somewhere to her right, the Voice she most feared spoke, his tone seething with unveiled threat. “Your only choice is obedience. You will submit to all that we wish to do to you. In addition to punishment for your resistance, we will increase the duration of the lesson.” She tensed, awaiting the agony she knew was coming. Agony and worse, for given the demand and her position there was little question what sort of “lesson” was in store.

Her nipples were captured between hard fingers and savagely stretched away from her body. Her yelp of surprise escalated to a shriek as she felt icy metal pincers bite into the tender buds. Harder and harder they squeezed, and her tears flowed in response. She ground her teeth together, forcing herself to silence despite the eye-watering vividness of the pain.

The demand to open her mouth was repeated, this time with more emphasis. When she again failed to respond, the price was a violent tugging and twisting of the clamps that imprisoned her nipples. She cried out at each escalation of their savagery.

“Open. Your. Mouth!”

Whimpering, Éowyn finally complied.

“Good. Begin her training.”

A thin penis forced its way into her oral cavity and slid along her shrinking tongue. Reflexively, she closed her jaw against the intrusion, barely managing to arrest the motion before her teeth met the vulnerable organ. She guessed all too clearly that what would happen if she bit down would be more unpleasant than she could imagine.

Neither wide nor particularly long, the stiff rod pushed back and forth through her lips, its owner grunting with each thrust. While she’d already endured the plundering of fingers and objects, and had been brought to one unwilling orgasm after another, this was the true commencement of the sexual violation she’d known was inevitable. And yet, compared to the agonizing strikes of the cane, the obscene stretching of her holes, or the terrible pinching being suffered by her nipples, she believed that no matter how disgusting the manner of her abuse, at least it was a form of assault that she could find the strength to endure.

The man (or so she assumed; considering the possible alternatives made her stomach churn) recklessly hammered against her face, gripping her hair as he did so, and with a gurgling noise emptied his thin seed into her mouth. A few more thrusts were all he could manage, and when his already shrinking penis slipped away she quickly spat out his bitter essence.

Her momentary relief was shattered by a wickedly cruel sting across the underside of her breasts, forcefully stretched upward by the pincers that imprisoned her aching nipples in order to receive the corrective strike. Several more blows fell in quick succession. The pain was excruciating, and she wailed as the thin wooden rod slashed away at her raw skin. A dozen strokes later, it was over. For now.

“Listen to me, slut: swallow everything. If you fail even unto a single drop you will not enjoy the consequences.”

Éowyn gasped for breath, reeling under the terrible throb in her breasts and the threat in his voice, and in the midst of an inhalation another phallus penetrated her mouth. While no wider than the first, it was a lot longer, and soon prodded the entrance to her throat. She choked and reared back, expelling it for a moment, but it was immediately reinserted and held deep. There was a tugging at her neck as the rope threaded through her collar was secured and knotted behind her assailant. She could no longer back away, and each outstroke served to drag her head toward his retreating spear. The only relief was to accept more of his length, and she was forced to acquiesce as he used her mouth, fucking her with a steady rhythm.

It was then that she recognized the perverse solution to her predicament. The faster I bring these men to orgasm the shorter my ordeal will be.

Humiliated at the thought of enthusiastically participating in her own defilement, she nonetheless applied herself to the task ... relaxing and opening her throat, working her tongue, encircling his shaft with her lips. Within seconds her cheeks were filled with ejaculate. Grimacing around his thrusting rod, she gulped it down as he poured more and more into her sucking mouth.

The third cock was wider, fatter, and more difficult to encompass. The restraining rope tightened until she could retreat no more than halfway ... but that meant neither could he, and so his penetrations turned short, sharp, and brutal, his hips repeatedly driving into her face. Her lips were stretched wide, and keeping her teeth out of the way required considerable effort, but even sooner than she’d hoped the man’s pelvic thrusts turned erratic and he unleashed a torrent of acrid semen directly into her throat. She swallowed as quickly as she could, cursing the taste. The rope loosened, but as a sendoff he clutched her head and pressed her face into his sweaty pelvis, forcing his full length as deep as it could go and holding it there until she began to choke for lack of air. When he finally let go she gasped and retched in a desperate struggle for breath.

A fourth, and much larger, prick plunged into her open mouth long before she’d fully regained her equilibrium. Even a generous looseness in the rope kept him deeper than she could accommodate without struggle, and fighting her natural reflexes was nearly impossible under his relentless pounding. As the thick head pushed past the entrance to her throat and throbbed there, leaking fluid, she strained against her bindings, hoping for even a moment’s respite. But it was not to be, and for lack of any alternative her throat was forced accept its invasion. Faster and faster he moved, a blur oscillating through her swelling lips, until he layered her tongue with thick ejaculate. It took considerable effort to pull it down her gullet, for it continued to flow — seemingly without end — from the pulsing tip of his prick. She began to wonder about the quantity of sperm she might be forced to consume. What if I grow sick? What if I’m able to hold back my choking only to be filled beyond the breaking point in another way? She knew all too well what the answer would be: more brutality.

Longer than any that preceded it, the fifth cock to move through her lips pushed more slowly into her throat, easing her acceptance of its full length. She gagged at the penetration anyway, but her pitiful struggles and formless objections didn’t stay his forward motion. When the entire shaft was buried to the root, he pulled back like a drawn bowstring and slammed forcefully back into her gullet, making a mockery of his earlier care. Behind the blindfold, her eyes snapped open as she was subjected to the most violent face-fucking yet. Over and over his stiff rod hammered her mouth, bruising her inner membranes and lips. Saliva squeezed past his prick and down her chin, but nothing could slow his furious pace. A high-pressure spray of ejaculate seared her throat, and she coughed her way through his orgasm, diverting a portion of his burning semen into her nasal passages.

The moment she was released, a jumble of desperate and semi-coherent pleas for succor issued from her swollen lips. But her wish wasn’t granted. The sixth and seventh cocks to stretch her mouth blurred together, for they worked in tandem, alternating every few dozen thrusts without the aid of the restraining rope and instead trading off manual control of her head, forcing her onto the rampaging spear of the other. One was impossibly long, the other painfully wide, yet in the midst of her ordeal she grew incapable of discerning between them, knowing only that her oral cavity was being unrelentingly pummeled by rock-hard flesh. Pain whipsawed from her aching jaw to her abraded lips to her ravaged throat, and she felt the bones in her cheeks grinding and locking. Sweat glistened all over her body, and obscene noises were repeatedly forced from her lungs as their manhoods sealed and unsealed her unwilling but unresisting maw. On and on they excavated her throat, sometimes pausing at the moment of deepest penetration until she was again on the verge of unconsciousness. The terrific quantity of their mutual release was a soothing balm by comparison.

Éowyn’s tears flowed like waterfalls when the eighth, and mightiest, phallus nudged against her lips. Resigned to her fate she widened her jaw to its limit, readying herself as best she could for another assault. Instead, all she felt was pressure; an unmanageable stretching that seemed to go on and on. Her groan of pain and protest was muffled by the girth of the glans that sealed her mouth.

“You are going take all of it, slut. And yes, it is going to hurt.” Indeed, here was a cock to match its Voice: oppressive, overwhelming, and cruel. It will never fit, she wanted to scream. Never!

And then, suddenly, it did. With an audible snap, his tremendous trunk powered past the last of her resistance, scraped between her straining teeth, and filled her well beyond her breaking point. Even with only a fraction of the enormous pillar inside her mouth she could barely breathe. Still he drove inward ... prying open her throat, distending her muscles, rearranging her jaw. She tried to scream, but all she could manage was a gurgling moan of misery.

He eased back, only to push forward again; harder this time, gaining inch after inch as she writhed in agony. For at least a half-hour they repeated this horrible dance, every nerve above her neck numbing with strain, until with a growl of victory he buried his full length deep inside her gullet. Her neck bulged, no air moved in or out or her lungs, yet even her gag reflex was suppressed by his overwhelming physical presence ... until he pulled all the way out and she convulsed in a paroxysm of retching. I’m going to be sick.

“Fight it, whore,” he growled. “You will endure every inch or I will have the troll brought here for you to service.” Terrified at the prospect, she fought and won — barely — against the instinct to purge.

He plunged back to the inner limit, mashing his groin against her face. Also eschewing the rope, he yanked her head hard against his body and held her there until she was silently pleading for breath. Again he pulled back, then slammed inward until fully embedded, letting her panicked undulations stimulate him towards orgasm. Her throat clutched, swallowed, gagged, tightened, rippled, and all of it served to elevate his excitement. Consciousness began to slip away, and as she idly wondered if he’d even care if she passed out, with a roar of triumph he erupted, filling her to overflowing with what may as well have been gallons of cum, emptying his balls into her helpless throat until she was sure she could take no more, then doubling and tripling that quantity.

Éowyn’s mind reeled and her body slumped. His incomprehensible shaft dominated her final thoughts as comprehensively as it filled her mouth, and her last sensation before passing out was of a creamy deluge of semen that continued to stream directly into her stomach.