Reluctantly take it in your mouth

Your heart pounds as you realize the watchman is about to spill his seed into your mouth. The idea disgusts you, but that hand on the back of your head tells you all you need to know about what the brute wants from you. Better to just finish him off than to have him jamming his cock down your throat again. You stroke his shaft to the root and keep your lips tight around his tip. You close your eyes and try to concentrate on the task of pleasuring his swollen fuckmeat.

"That's it, love," groans the watchman. "Get it out. Get it allll out."

"Mmmmmmm!" you cry out around his throbbing cock. It jerks between your lips and you resist the urge to flinch away. A moment later, the watchman's cock jerks again and this time a watery spray hits your tongue. Before you can even think about what to do about that he begins to rapidly pump hot gushes of thick liquid. It coats your tongue and oozes out of his throbbing tip until your mouth is completely filled. It has a strange texture and an unpleasant salty taste.

"Thhaaaaaat's it," says the watchman. "Every drop now, love."

He grabs his cock from you and wanks it slowly, squeezing tight to tug out every bit of his seed and add it to the mouthful of gooey liquid sloshing over your tongue. He finally lets your head up and you let the foul broth spill out of your mouth, down your chin and dripping onto your breasts and thighs.

The watchman gives you a cross look.

"A man cooks up a dish and you spit it out, he's liable to get his feelings hurt."

"Sorry," you pant, still trying to catch your breath. "There was too much."

He looks down into his lap with irritation.

"And you dripped it all over my balls and pubic hair. You've made a real mess. How am I going to go home to my wife like this?" He grabs you roughly by your hair and drags your face back down to his wilting manhood. "Lick it up, you messy little bitch. Clean me up with that pious tongue."

"What? I don't--"

Whatever you were trying to say is muffled by the hot, sticky hair of his groin and his slimy cockmeat as he rams your face down into his lap. You fight the urge to begin weeping as you reluctantly use your tongue to clean the vile mess in the watchman's lap. The salty taste and strong smell nearly make you retch, but you do what he commands, lapping at his bollocks and licking all over his hairy mound and the fat hose of his cock to clean up every trace. By the time you have finished, his cock is hard again.

"Good, good," he says, yanking your head up. "Now you're ready to get fucked. Go on. Bend over that chair and take your medicine."

He lets you stand up.

"Bend over!" He snaps. "You need a cock to tame that little quim."

He jams his hand between your thighs and roughly squeezes your slit. Despite your disgust at what you've been doing, you are extremely aroused and you know he can feel it.

"Wet as a seal," he laughs, withdrawing his hand. He roughly spins you around and slaps your bottom. "Bend it over, sister. It's almost time for the shift change and you need fucked."

Rocked by anger and despair, you are momentarily paralyzed as you consider your fate.