The Ring of the Giants

Chapter One-3

As the blood surged below his belly, Kalesh bit his lip. A little self-consciously, but feeling that it must be done, he began to call the girl names. Some were bad things that Haramop said to him, but others he made up. It made him feel mean, and guilty in a way, but it made him feel big and male and strong, too. Ah, this was what it meant to have a girl! he told himself. Mm, to have her, to force her, to fill her and soil her and leave her dripping with the shame of what he had done!

“You are a w***e!” he whispered fiercely as Mara’s lips nursed and smacked unheeding. “No man would want you for a wife because of what you have done!" His face burned, and his fist clenched spasmodically in the girl’s heavy hair, clenched and twitched in confusion, but though it embarrassed him somehow, he could not stop the words. “You are bad! The worms of the mud are not as low as you. So suck it, you clumsy, skinny girl no one likes! Suck it and make yourself worthy of something.”

Smiling to herself, the girl continued without complaint, her flushed eyelids happily closed as she smacked and gulped. Feverishly strove the slim hand between her own quaking thighs.

“You want my c*m!” Kalesh accused gleefully. “You are a dirty cocksucker of no family, no worth, no beauty." The girl’s long lashes lay lovely and dark and dense upon cheeks so flushed and suddenly desirable that no man could resist, but he forced himself to heap more scorn upon her. “You are excited and filthy and wet. You want my seed! You want the taste of it, the feel of it, spurting, splashing, and writhing down your dirty w***e-throat! Do you not? Do you not?”

Without volition, his wiry young fist suddenly yanked, sharp and demanding, making the girl’s delicate neck arch helplessly backward. Mara’s eyes snapped wide, and for a moment her still-open mouth could only work soundlessly like that of a great fish thrown up onto a dry stream-bank to struggle and gasp. Her tongue, which an instant before had worried the sensitive underside of his cockhead so devotedly, still flopped and wallowed and rolled in its need.

“Do you not?” grinned Kalesh tightly. He felt the fitful resistance of her as that mouth tried to drag itself back to what it craved. “Do you not!”

“Yes,” she cried at last, her dark eyes suddenly pleading, “yes!" Most likely in all of her other midnight trips through the village the girl had never dared even whisper a word, but now, in Kalesh’s remote and lonely abode, her voice at last could sing of its unnatural desires. “Please,” she begged, completely without dignity as she pulled against his fist and toward his fat purple cockhead, rubbing herself beneath her black-furred belly the whole while, “p-please. P-p-please…?”

Laughing, Kalesh released the struggling girl, and in an ecstasy of gratitude she lunged her soft mouth hungrily about him once more. She was smooth and soft and wet, and though she had done this to so, so many others already, right now she was just for him, all for him. Oh, the feel of that mouth, doing things he had never imagined could be done to one such as Kalesh! Her full red lips kissed him there, caressed him, cradled him snug and safe and warm, and he knew, thrilling deep within, that his swollen purple member which pulsed and dripped and shivered could do anything, anything, and that everything would be all right.

“Suck me, you wallowing, snorting c*m-pig,” he whispered. He exulted in the desperation of her need, feeling those puckered red lips so wet and smooth and needy. “Show me how much you want it. If you are a good bad-girl, maybe I will give you a nice meal for your worthless little belly. Maybe." It was bad to say somehow—he did not quite know why—but oh, the joy of strutting so!

“Your family is so low,” sneered the boy with no family at all, “and your father so scorned, that you probably could not even live unless you sucked c**k. Now suck or starve, you worthless skinny cocksucker! Suck or starve! Eat my filth. I have watched you all night, and now I am ready—I am ready!”

Cackling, he threw upon the slender, sweetly vulnerable girl all the frustration, all the wrath, all the badness he knew. He would not have thought he would do this, and yet now he could not help himself. And, too, the more of these terrible things he said, the more she responded. Oh, that mouth, that mouth! How it pulled and pulled and pulled, pleasuring him so that she could have her fill! “Yes, work for it,” he urged her swiftly at last, feeling something well up from deep within him. “Work for it, work for it…”

And there in Kalesh’s miserable little lean-to, the mysterious Mara at last brought forth what he needed—what she needed. The young man whimpered with the joy of it, suddenly helpless as a newborn babe, while his hips twitched, and his balls clenched and spasmed, and the bloated pillar of his manhood throbbed and jetted and glopped, and he filled her beautifully flushed cheeks to overflowing with every tangled gout of his clammy gray seed. Feeling warm and sleepy and utterly content, he poured himself into her, and his once-rough hands now clutched that generous raven-haired head gratefully to his fluttering lean-ribbed belly, clutched and hugged and stroked. On and on it went, as she snorted and shivered with what she did between her own shivering thighs. Ah, the strange feelings that roiled within him!

And when he was done, and his tired thing suddenly shrank little and wiggling so that the once-raging man now felt like a mere shamefaced boy, then gravely, almost smugly, the dark-eyed girl at last swallowed. She shook slightly, though, with the sweet exhaustion of her long night of wicked prowling, and at that sign of never-before-sensed weakness Kalesh felt a strange pang in his chest. Mara began to turn away again then, silent and cool and remote once more, her naughty cunt wet with what she had done, her belly gurgling full of the c*m of so many, many, many men and boys. Just before she did, though, Kalesh, perhaps even more surprised than she, caught the soiled, spurned, reviled girl briefly by her narrow little hand and pressed his tingling lips against her soft, salty wet ones.

“I—I love you!” he whispered helplessly. And then she was gone.