The Bishop takes all that she has to give

"You have a third and final tool to use to show penitence my child," he said gently, his cruel eyes gazing into her soul. "You are readied. You may begin."

It was the first time in a while that Emmaline truly considered what she must look like, her legs splayed open, drenched in her own sweat and juices, before a Bishop of all people. Emmaline found herself looking up and around, remembering the other men in the room. The Bishop's inquisitors watched her, apparently as dispassionate at the Bishop himself, though it was a little difficult to tell behind their masks. She felt a shiver run through her. She had all but forgotten they were there, but now that she was facing them, it was more difficult to deny their presence.

Still, she felt herself a willing **** to the Bishop's commands, and soon found herself lowering herself once more onto his cock, this time with her other entrance. Its girth was no less welcome in her ass, and with the help of the oil aiding a smooth entrance, Emmaline was quickly riding him once again. Her mind somewhat clearer, her motions took on that same erotic display, her back arching and shoulder rolling to emphasize the bounce of her ample breasts as she moved.

It was somewhat of a repeat performance, only this time Emmaline couldn't shake the feeling of so many eyes on her. It wasn't so different from the familiar sensation of being on stage, only this audience didn't seem quite as receptive as she would've liked. Still, Emmaline was a performer before most other things, and a performer always does her best to entertain. Emmaline started running her hands over her body, caressing her breasts, then down her stomach, one hand finally coming to rest between her legs, gently teasing at her clit as she rode the Bishop's cock--the other still tracing her form, tweaking nipples, drawing attention to her curves.

Behind her the Bishop stroked her back, his hands reaching around her body to cup her ripe breasts, squeezing them and teasing the nipples again. Emmaline looked back over her shoulder, giving him a sultry smile, hoping to see even a sliver of warmth in his cold eyes. She was disappointed to see the same implacably cruel gaze, and she gave a momentary frown at the thought that she was not pleasing him. She had used all of her holes, all of her feminine skills to bring him joy and yet he did not show any sign of warmth or praise. She rocked her hips, grinding her rump against him, squeezing his fat cock in her tight ass, wanting to feel hot spurts of cream in her guts, wanting to hear words of kindness from his lips, wanting to see affection in his cold eyes.

Instead, he used her like a piece of meat, her flesh something to be groped and discarded. Yet somehow that thought was immensely exciting, triggering a deep submissive need in Emmaline. She might be nothing but meat and holes to him, but she would embrace it, welcome it, surrender to it. Do anything to bring him satisfaction, do anything at all. She looked back over her shoulder at him, her face full of submissive worship as she rode his impaling cock.

Nothing in his eyes changed but he gave her the slightest of smiles, enough to make her heart race with excitement.

***

This chapter was co-authored by Shandy (https://chyoa.com/user/Shandy)-- Shandy is the author of Fox in the Henhouse and The Peril's of Lisa-- please check out his stuff! :)