Thread: A New Queen for a Chief {darkest_Fate&Jack Stalker}

How often had Emma thrown herself into a role before now? Become the character, embodied her? People still often looked at the pretty, slightly freckled Brit and thought of her as Hermione Granger first and Emma Watson second. She tried to draw upon that now, to enter this strange new character, a challenging role she'd never have expected to ever play. For the dangling threat still drove Emma forward, made her want to succeed. She could feel his... 'encouragement toward her task. The hand grasping against her head, pushing her with an immobile force. Emma tested that immobility, jerking back as she first started that gag. As her muscles spasmed about his thick cock, liquid pouring out from inside her, her head jerked. Neck tensed, body strained for those seconds. A heartbeat passed, everything tensed, before Emma simply found herself held there. Locked. Liquid instead bubbled up about her mostly sealed mouth. It drooled along the edges, sliding down her chin and throat in sloppy strands. Bits of it coughed forward, splattering cock and hilt, some even hitting his hefty sack beneath. Other bits slapped back, straining along her neck and throat. Some bubbled forth from nose, making her sloppy there as well. Yet still Krutanga held her. She felt his insistent, strong hand pushing her further and further. Muscles kept spasming, never quite adjusting. Throat stretched, a bulge visibly showing, first at the top, then seeming to glide down slightly. Constantly she worked, swallowed, drooled, tried to take in more and more cock, or, fuck, not to suffocate as his sheer size overfilled her. Emma had never put something this large inside her anywhere . This was his manhood? Fuck! More coughs, and she tried to strain as dots swam in her vision. Words punctured her haze, taunts, claims, demands. Her expressive eyes flashed again as he called her whore, the words wanting to form. She couldn't quite stop the noises of protest from rumbling out of her body, echoing around the thick black shaft. They came out more as a squeal of protest, as if the woman simply couldn't stand, even in these conditions, to be called such. She soon closed her eyes, tried to swallow, to obey his command. But she felt everything resisting, vomit threatening to arise as he pushed her further still. Then he pulled back, a burst of spit and precum oozing forth, slopping against her body. Please! Emma begged, her voice starting to rasp. You're just too big! It won't fit! she insisted. She might, might have fit all of one of her past boys. But Krutanga? Every inch of his manhood, no, almost godhood simply defied logic as she knew it. The starlet let out a squeal as his hand teased, pinching a tiny pink nipple. It swelled, sending that sharp mix of pleasure and pain into her system, shooting hot fire. Take too and he took advantage of her distraction to try again. The girl moaned, eyelids fluttering. To Emma's credit, she took more swallowed over half of him now without too much struggle. Spittle kept leaking out, throat never stopped moving, but perhaps a little over half of black cock stuck into her mouth. Around her squeals, Emma heard his next command. Eyes pinching shut, she tried to follow. Hands fumbled at the clasp of her jeans, finally undoing it just enough for her to almost frantically shove a pale hand between them. She found herself quick enough, stroking less out of desire and more out of a frantic urge to see if she could get him to stop or slow or do something. Because she knew, knew she couldn't hilt him couldn't likely take two thirds of his cock, let alone further. Already her reflex had been pushed well beyond its limit. Her body had started to burn, and her vision had started to spin. She---did she want to? Emma groaned, not even certain, lack of air mixing with odd sensations and odder circumstances to make focusing just a bit harder than it perhaps should be.