You can't resist another drink

In your intoxicated state you are helpless to resist your thirst. Your lips part once more and the sweet potion pours across your tongue. Heat spills down your throat and into your belly and in mere moments your view of Ingo's leering face is receding back into the comforting embrace of darkness. Your astral projection explodes from your sedated body with a cry of anger. How could you allow it to happen again? You curse your drunken body, looking down at the tousled hair and shamelessly exposed tits sticky with Ingo's spunk.

"Stupid whore," laughs Ingo, slipping the bottle back into his pocket.

He gives your sleeping body a slap on the face that leaves a red mark on your cheek. He laughs when you don't wake up and yanks a breast by twisting your nipple. You gasp at the sight of what he is doing to your body, but feel nothing.

Ingo walks back over to the stove scratching his filthy ass. He adds pickled fish to the skillet and the stink is horrible. He sits down and eats his meal staring at your topless body, scratching at his dangling cock and stuffing greasy eggs and bits of fish into his disgusting mouth. You beg your body to wake up before he finishes. You scream and float in furious circles around your gently snoring body. It's no use.

Ingo drains the last of his cup of wine, belches and pushes back from the table. He wipes his mouth on the back of his sleeve and comes stalking over to the bed, his hard cock bouncing up and down with each step. Ingo stands over your topless body, admiring you as he begins to wank himself. He spits loudly into his hand and adds his saliva to the lubricant.

"I will make you pay for this," you promise him. "A hundredfold."

Ingo smiles down at you, almost sweetly, and he pushes a lock of crimson hair from your face. As he does so he traces your parted, full lips with a fingertip. He sticks his finger into your mouth and swirls it around a bit. You react with disgust at the thought of his unwashed finger in your mouth, but your body reacts by closing your lips around his finger and sucking.

"That's it, whore," murmurs Ingo. "I've got another drink for you."

Your stomach flip-flops at the sight of Ingo climbing onto the bed and kneeling over your face. He drops his cock across your lips and moans in surprise as your tongue darts from your mouth and curls around his spit-shined shaft. He saws his cock across your open lips, clearly enjoying your tongue working against his warty willy.

"Get the balls too, you insatiable slut," he laughs and pushes his cock up vertically against his belly with a fingertip, dropping his heavy bollocks into your mouth. To your digust you suck eagerly at the sweaty, hairy fuckbags as he dips them between your lips. He wanks himself as your **** body slurps his seedsack. "Ooh, not so hard, whore. You can't get the spunk out that way."

Ingo wraps his fist around his cock and drags his bollocks out of your mouth with a pop of suction. He turns your head to the side and, with a thumb on your chin, opens your mouth a bite wider. He lines his cock up, aiming it at your mouth and slowly thrusts forward. The sight of his warty, veiny cock sliding into your mouth makes you want to double over and gag.

Much as you want, you can't even look away. You stare as the filthy peasant fucks your sleeping mouth. Every few thrusts he gets a bit too eager and his long cock hits the back of your throat. Your sleeping body chokes and spasms against his thicket of pubic hair. He lays one hand on your face to hold it steady and toys with your tits with the other. The soft sucking sound of his cock thrusting between your lips is joined by his increasingly heavy breathing. He thrusts faster and faster and begins to murmur, "Suck it out. Drain it, bitch. Drain every drop. You want it?"

The bed shakes and your body emits froggy gags with almost every thrust. You can see the tears streaming from your closed eyes. Suddenly, Ingo screams, holding your head with both hands and humping your mouth like a dog. "Yes! Yes, drink it!" he cries and you know that he is spunking down your throat, filling your belly with his vile seed. He thrusts deep enough to gag you repeatedly and then draws his spunking willy from between your lips, painting the last shots across your mouth and over your cheek. He wanks himself into your open mouth, dribbling out pearls of sperm that your body licks up and swallows.

You scream in rage as your perception is drawn back towards your sleeping body and into darkness. "Remember to resist him," you repeat over and over as you succumb to oblivion.

You awaken with a feeling of fullness and a bitter, salty taste clinging to your tongue. Your cheek is sticky with something. What is it? You're too tired to think straight. The world seems viewed through gauze. And why is your throat so sore? You cough and sit upright in the bed, aware of your bare breasts jiggling as you do so.

A man appears by your side. Ingo? Is that his name. He clucks and pats your head. "The storm is still fearsome. Best to have another drink and back to sleep with you. It will be morning before you know it."

He takes the stopper from a clay pot and roughly presses it to your lips.

"Drink," he commands. You want to. Sleep sounds good. And yet something nagging at the back of your mind tells you that you should refuse.