Lavorra is facefucked by Zhalk

Zhalk’s fists grip Lavorra’s scarlet tresses in a pair of messy buns as he thrusts roughly between her lips. Gripping his thighs for any kind of support, Lavorra can only look up at him helplessly - an attempt to keep her eyes shut had earned her a raised hand: a warning of an armoured slap.

Behind her, she can hear the wet slaps of Zeya’s cunt and her own throat as she’s spit-roasted on hands and knees by Kurn and the other Daemonic soldier.

If it was just her, she’d fight, scream, bite the Daemon’s cock clean off. But it isn’t, and she can’t let Zeya be punished for her mistakes.

So she keeps her mouth open, letting Zhalk shove her head back and forth, even as she splutters and gags on his thick, warm-smelling length. Her nose wrinkles at the scent of his musk, acrid and sweaty, her eyes streaming from a combination of exertion and angry tears.

His member is pierced too, and the metal rings rub over her tongue, forcing her to keep her mouth wide to avoid them catching on her teeth. Her jaw aches, her senses in overload as she hears the obscene wet slapping and **** noises her own mouth is making. With a rough shove to the back of her head, Zhalk forces himself into her throat, and Lavorra gags hard, a spray of spit and pre-cum escaping the seal of her lips.

He pushes deeper, forcing her mouth down against his body, her chin touching his heavy balls, till she can barely see him even as her eyes strain up, fearing the consequences of breaking eye contact. Oblivious to her muffled groans and chokes, Zhalk bucks his hips, his member throbbing against her tongue and delicate throat.

Oh, he’s close. Thank fuck he’s close. It’s nearly done.

Even if she’d been motivated to, she can hardly suck him, her mouth just used like a warm wet tool for the Daemonspawn’s pleasure. Lavorra loses what little focus she has, just about able to catch a quick breath through her nose as she’s yanked back across Zhalk’s shaft, then shoved back into a tight deepthroat. Her mind wanders compulsively to times she’s willingly given her mouth to a man, services him with a grin and a tingle in her loins, and to her horror she feels a throbbing between her legs at the memory.

Her vision blurs from tears and lack of air as Zhalk forces his entire length into her mouth, and holds her there. Distractedly, she comforts herself with the thought that if he cums now, she’s barely likely to taste his vile seed for how deep he is. Her head feels as if it is floating, **** into violent motion and lacking for air.

She hears Zeya’s moans muffled by the cock in her mouth, and finds herself letting out a choked sound of her own.

That seems to push Zhalk over the edge, and he pulses inside her, a spurt of seed filling Lavorra’s throat. She gags on the sourness, tasting him after all, and then he pulls free of her lips with a wet slap.

Even as she pants, gasping for air in the moment of release, Zhalk lets out a bellowed grunt of ecstasy, lashing her face with ropes of his foul seed. She gasps, wincing at the harsh sting of his cum against her cheeks and lips, screwing her eyes shut just in time. She feels him drip down her chin, splattering onto her cleavage, then shivers as her hair is yanked tight again, his hot fleshy member wiped roughly across her forehead and cheek.

She shivers, coughing and still gagging at the sensation on her skin, and the tenderness of her throat. Her face is a sticky mess, and she finds she can only risk opening one eye, the other side of her face plastered with Daemon-seed. Exhausted and overwhelmed, she can only manage a feeble struggle as Zhalk pushes her onto her stomach, manhandling her limbs as he binds her hands and feet in a rough hogtie.

He finishes with a quick slap to the back of her head and has her seeing stars, and barely clinging to consciousness, though she hears him growl close to her ear as he leans over her: “Nothing broken. Not to worry little Elf, you’re going somewhere nice and warm and cosy now. Where you’re like to wake up with a full belly.”

Lavorra squirms, half-blinded and unable to move more than an inch or two, and feels herself slipping into unconsciousness, only half aware of the sounds of slapping flesh as Zeya continues to be taken by the Daemon soldiers.