You try to fight it, but you are overcome

Fear cuts through the haze of the poison the old man has fed you. With a cry of effort, you begin to twist your body beneath him and try to kick him off of you. At first he just holds your thighs and continues to lap at your hot groove. You arch your back and **** your jelly-boned legs to kick out, managing to get him to stop licking you for a moment. You see your juices dripping from his beard. His bloodshot eyes bulge with anger.

"Now, now, Keyla! Be a good girl! You don't want me to have to get a switch!" He bends your legs up and smacks you hard on your bottom with the flat of his hand. The pain of the blow makes tears spill from your eyes. The fight goes out of you as the poison continues to build in your system. You slump back into the filthy bedding and are helpless to stop what comes next.

Murt seems satisfied with your inability to fight back. He bends his face back down, burying his nose in your muff and stuffing his wriggling tongue into your cunt. You mewl pitifully as he tongues your honey-slick hole, licking and lewdly sucking your pussy until you feel another orgasm building. Your hips begin to work and you grind against the old man's face. He laughs against your quim, and his laughter is mocking and cruel. he knows you hate what is happening and he knows your body cannot deny the pleasure. More tears spill from your eyes as you buck your hips and cum against his lapping tongue. Ripples of pleasure disturb your ocean of shame.

His head lifts from between your trembling thighs and he wipes your cum from his mouth with the back of his sleeve.

"You are such a good girl, Keyla," he says, stroking your breast and fiddling your nipple between two fingers. "A virgin still. I felt it with my tongue. You saved your little puss for grandpa. You wanted grandpa to be the first."

You lift your head and through the haze of the poison you see he grips his cock at the root, turning it red and purple with trapped blood. He brushes the head against your soaking groove and you manage to faintly moan, "no."

"Oh, yes," he laughs. "Don't be shy. Grandpa is ready to make you a woman."

Murt smacks his cock against your mound and saws the underside through the tender lips of your groove, stimulating your clit and coating his foul sex in your juices. He lets out a groan and pulls back, cock in hand, only to lean over you and stuff his withered old fuckpole into your helpless quim.

Murt's cock slides past your hymen, snapping it with a pang of pain that echoes as your spiritual connection to the goddess is severed. Through the anguished tears, you see the hairy old man leaning over you, face twisted with pleasure as he claims the precious flower of your loins.

His cock moves in and out, squelching into your juices and stretches your tender channel. At first it hurts and it feels as if you are going to burst open. His sweat damp balls drop against your anus and you clench against the unpleasant sensation. But then the pain begins to recede. You feel the ridge of his cock, rubbing deliciously inside you and touching deep against a secret spot of pleasure. His bollocks no longer feel so bad and as your juices drip down into your crack, the rubbing of his stones against your clench begins to feel like a massaging tongue.

"Ohhhhhhhh," you cry, unable to form words, but still giving voice to your growing pleasure.

"That's it," he cackles. "Let me feel it, sweetie. Squeeze grandpa's cock."

You wish you could refuse his command, but your growing pleasure is inescapable. Your inability to flee from the ecstasy his cock is causing inside you clutching sex is perhaps the most horrible part of all. As you cum, your inner walls squeeze him tight, wringing and milking his cock in your slick depths. He lets out a loud bellow of pleasure and you feel his cock begin to twitch.

"Yesss! Yes! My cum is filling you, sweetie! Ohhhh gods, I'll give you child!" His words become a plaintive grunt as he spurts against your womb and bastes your twitching tunnel in his elder seed. You have **** but to receive every thick pump of his prick as he empties his load into you.

Murt lies still atop you for a long time, his cock slowly going soft in your cum-stuffed pussy. He does not even look at you as he pulls out and rolls to his feet. He walks out of the cell, closing and locking the door behind him. You are left, smelling of his sweat and cum, to slowly recover from what has happened. You pray to the Burning Rose, but there is no answer, no gleam in your soul. You are utterly alone and shackled to the wall. Tears pour from your eyes.