Suleiman woke up to a wet mouth wrapped around his cock. He smiled and kept his eyes closed, enjoying the sensation of his slave sliding up and down with long, slow strokes. It was almost the perfect blow job, wet and sloppy but skilled. He moaned softly and leaned back into his pillow.
He wasn't sure who was blowing him. It was part of the excitement, not knowing. The only thing he was sure, it wasn't Juliana. He knew her mouth intimately and while she had improved with the competition with Victoria and Celeste, there was no questioning her talents.
In the wet confines of a mouth, his cock quickly grew to full height and he began to thrust into her mouth. The woman shifted her position so her breasts caressed his thighs with every stroke. Her fingers trailed up and down his hips before she cupped his balls, rolling his testicles between her fingers as the pleasure grew.
Suleiman thrust up into her mouth as his orgasm approached. It was a fast and quick one, leaving his heart pounding with pleasure as he jammed his cock deep into her mouth. A few strokes and he began to flood her mouth.
Lydia coughed from his sudden orgasm and Suleiman froze. He had never gotten an amazing blow job from the reluctant slave, but there was no question who was wrapped around his pulsating shaft. She coughed once more and then gulped loudly to swallow his seed.
He opened his eyes and looked down at her. Her brown hair was fanned out across the bed and her naked ass stuck up high in the air. She was looking at him, her eyes locked on his face, and he was struck by the intensity of her gaze.
It was completely unlike Lydia. In the month since he had purchase her, she had never thrown herself into pleasing him. Yes, she accepted his cock and obeyed his commands, but there was a reluctance in her actions, a hesitation that he couldn't quite punish her for. That didn't stop him from raping her ass or smacking her face, but never had she thrown herself into sucking his cock like that morning.
He smiled and reached down. “Good girl,” he said.
She let his cock slip out of her mouth with a pop. It slapped down against his belly, hard and swollen. She used the back of her wrist to wipe the saliva and precum from her lips and lifted her body. Her large breasts swung with her movement, rolling over his thighs and sending little pulses of pleasure along his nerves.
He slid his hand down along the side of her face to cup her breasts. The hard nipples teased his palms as he pulled her up.
Lydia crawled up his body, the warmth of her sex working its way along her leg until she settled into place. The curls of her pubic hair pressed against his shaft and he knew it would only take the slightest effort to aim his cock into her sex.
Suleiman looked into her eyes and held her head as he kissed her. Her soft lips were a balm against his own. He ran his hands down her side, caressing her breasts and hips and flanks. She was soft and perfumed. She felt sexy against his skin and his cock grew with anticipation of burying into her body.
She broke the kiss and looked into his eyes. Even through the intensity, he saw her building up courage to speak. He could see it in the way her lips moved and she tensed and relaxed. She wanted to beg for a favor and it was only a matter of moments before she requested it.
The joy he felt dissolved in a surge of impatience. He thought about how he would kill her. It was just a matter of finding the right time to pin her down. His mind began to drift through his scheduling, looking for the perfect opportunity.
“I'm sorry,” she said in a broken whisper, “my sultan.”
He pushed her away with disgust. “You just don't get it, do you. This isn't about you. You are property, a slave. You don't make requests, you don't ask for things. You serve. Silently. Obediently.”
Her legs flashed as she rolled over from his blow. She stopped with her ass toward him and then pushed herself up into a kneeling position. Turning around, she settled down on the blankets. With a sigh, she clasped her hands between her legs and bowed her head. “Please, I only request one thing.”
Suleiman glared as he sat up, scooting toward his pillows until his shoulder blades hit the wooden headboard. She was moments away from ending her life in the most painful way he could imagine. “I'm not a tolerant man, Lydia. If you don't obey, I'm going to make sure your life—”
“Please, kill me.”
The flare of anger stopped in an instant. He shook his head as he wondered if he somehow misheard her.
She peeked up through her dark hair. “Please, my sultan. I want you to kill me. Today, tonight, this morning. Please?”
He opened his mouth but the words wouldn't come. Closing it with a snap, he looked at the naked woman for a long moment before he could find the words to speak. “Why?”
A tear ran down her cheek, an offense that he punished her brutally from before. “I don't want to be your slave. I don't want to be anyone's slave.”
“You have a good—”
“I don't want to be here.” She lifted her chin to look at him. “I can't serve you and it is just a matter of time before you kill me anyways. All I ask, beg actually, is that you do it today. End my agony and let… let me return to my father.”
Suleiman finally regained control of his senses. He shook his head for a moment, then took a long breath. “You don't have a choice.”
“I know, which is why I'm begging.”
“I purchased you.”
“You know I don't have to kill you. I can—”
“You will torture me for even asking. I know.”
Suleiman pressed his lips into a thin line. “If you interrupt again, I will torture you.”
She bowed her head but said nothing.
It was a matter of weeks before he was going to kill her anyways. She wasn't what he wanted in a woman, thought she was an excellent dancer. Her attitude, the very thing that pushed her to ask him for such a boon, marred her physical beauty and ruined his enjoyment.
Suleiman considered his options. His cock grew against the blanket as he realized what he would do.
Lydia remained in her position, obedient and respectful. It was everything he wanted for her, but she was only doing it to die.
“You are stealing from me.”
She looked up. “My sultan.”
“I bought you. I own your life. Your request is stealing hours of me using your body for my own desires. In effect, you are asking to steal what I rightfully purchased.”
More tears ran down her cheeks. She nodded. “I'm sorry.”
“How badly do you want this?”
She gasped and looked up. “Sultan?”
“How desperate are you to end your life? Are you willing to do anything?”
“Yes!” Lydia lurched forward, then realized her action. She sat back down. “Yes,” she said in a softer voice. “I'll do anything.”
“We cut the hands off thieves.”
Her body jerked at his words. “Y-Yes, my sultan.”
“And I will demand two more things for your life.”
The tears rolled down her cheek and clung to her chin. It dripped down to her breasts and gathered at her nipples before sliding down her belly. He watched as tremors shook her. Her knuckles were white as she clutched her hands together. “A-Anything.”
“Your breasts and your head.”
Lydia tightly closed her eyes and gave a ragged nod. “I will pay that price.”
“You will cut off your own breasts and hand them to me, right before you're punished for stealing from me.”
Another nod and a muffled sob.
“And then, you will give me one last blow job of your life. And when I come, you will have your head cut off. But,” he held up his finger, “if you resist once. If you bite down. If you scrape my manhood with your teeth or pull back even the slightest, I will have my guards cut off your arms and legs and turn you into the whore of every man in the city. I will make sure you won't die, but you will become nothing more than fuck holes for anyone who wishes to ram their cock into you.”
Lydia sniffed. “Thank you, my sultan. Thank you. I will not resist. Thank you, so much.” She sobbed with relief.
Suleiman stroked his cock and pulled back a dripping hand. Wiping it on his blankets, he pulled himself out of bed and walked to the door. Outside, he addressed one of the guards. “Summon Falah. Tell him to bring an executioner's ax and the most accurate ax man we have.”
“That would be me, sultan.”
“Fine,” he said with annoyance. “Also bring two of the sharpest knives we have. And a rug we are willing to have stained with blood.”
The guard bowed with response.
Suleiman shut the door and turned to Lydia. “Stand up. You don't deserve to be in my bed.”
She crawled off the blankets and stood up, her head bowed and her hands in front of her.
“Strip,” he ordered as he headed to his desk. It was a hard wood surface, right at the height she could place her breasts. He smiled with growing excitement. It was something he had never done before and he looked forward to seeing something new. Gathering up the papers, he placed them in the drawers.
By the time he cleared off the desk, Falah and the guard came back. The guard stripped down to black trousers and a heavy ax. Falah carried a box with two knives underneath his arm as he directed slaves to lay out a rug in the center of the room. He also brought in rounded pillows and set them down one side.
Neither man asked what was happening, but the naked woman trembling at the foot of the sultan's bed spoke volumes.
The air was electric. Suleiman's cock stood at full mast as he circled around the desk and the bed, waiting impatiently. He set down one knife down on the desk, right at the center. With a second thought, he ordered Falah to bring a pillow to where he wanted Lydia to kneel. It would be right where he normally sat, so he could caress the wood where her breasts were severed for years to come.
It wasn't even noon when everything was ready. He gestured for Lydia to kneel at her desk.
Lydia trembled as she knelt down on the pillow. With shaking hands, she lifted one breast and set it down on the wooden surface. The other joined and she shifted until the edge of the desk dug into her ribs below the large, heavy mounds splayed out. Her nipples were hard and her body glistened with a thin sheen of sweat.
He rested his hand on the knife. “I demand three things from you to exit this world. Do you consent?”
There were no tears as she nodded. “Yes, my sultan.”
He pushed the knife to her. As she picked it up, he walked around the desk and sat down on his chair. His cock stood at full attention and dribbled precum, but he didn't dare touch it. He was going to fuck her soon and he wanted to enjoy every aching need to orgasm.
Suleiman admired her body. The way her tits rested on the table and the way she picked up the knife with trepidation. But, she didn't hesitate as she took a deep breath and rested the edge of the knife against the top of her right tit. It looked sharp and long, perfect for her to use two hands to push it down.
A single tear splashed down on her mound. It rolled along the soft skin until it hit the blade. It spread out before dribbling both sides of the blade.
“S-Sultan,” she gasped.
Suleiman lifted his eyes to her.
“Thank you.” She closed her eyes and took another long, deep breath. Gripping the blade with both hands, which threatened to pull the mound from the table, she began to pant.
On the third, she shoved down. The blade sliced into the skin and blood poured out from the cuts. She let out a scream of agony as she forced the blade down, splitting it open until he could see blood and the fatty tissue from the wound.
Her body shook violently as she pushed harder, straining even as she sobbed in agony. The blade sank down, cutting through the skin and driving deep. More blood poured down.
And then, it struck the table. She jerked away and he saw how her finger had been caught underneath the tip. With her movement, the luscious swell of her femininity peeled away from her body and was left behind.
Sheets of crimson ran down her stomach as she stared at the thick mound resting on the table.
Gulping, Lydia set down the knife and picked it up with both hands. She shook violently as she leaned over the desk and held it out for him. “F-For,” she gasped, “my sultan.”
He reached over and took it. It was still warm and soft, dripping crimson on the tile below. He rolled it in his palm, almost coming from the sight of her body in his palm. He caught the nipple between two fingers. It was still hard as he toyed with it. “Now, the other.”
Sobbing louder, she pulled herself up to the table once again. It took her three tries to get her breast on the edge. It splashed in the blood forming in a puddle. She picked up the knife once again but it slipped from her hands. She wiped her palms on her thigh, leaving a bloody streak, before grabbing the knife again.
This time, she hesitated less. Aiming the blade tight to her chest, she took a deep breath and shoved down. The knife sliced through skin, flesh, and fat with a long slurp. She grunted with the effort and blood poured down both sides of her breasts. The blade hit the desk with a thud and the tit rolled forward.
Body shaking, Lydia released the knife and left it embedded in the desk. She reached over to grab her severed breast and held it out for Suleiman.
Panting hard himself, Suleiman took it and rolled it in his hand. He smiled as he played with it, the rush almost too much for him. He nodded to Falah to continue to the next step and returned his attention. He loved Lydia's body, but her breasts always drew him. Now, they were in his palm and he realized they were just as perfect even separated from her body.
Falah came around. He spoke for a few minutes, giving Lydia a chance to stop since it was her right by law. When she refused to give up, he wrapped a cloth tightly around her upper arms and another just below the wrist. The white fabric dug into her skin and soon her digits were growing purple with the lack of circulation.
Suleiman always forgot how fast hands were removed. The guard did the cutting. It was just three cuts with the blade, one along the top of her wrist and one below. Then, he jammed the knife into the joint and with a wet sucking noise, her hand was sliced off.
She said nothing as the guard started on the other wrist. Suleiman could tell she was struggling with her emotions and not to cry out. Her body remained tense and tears shimmered in her eyes, but she bit down on her tongue and refused to cry out.
In a matter of seconds, she held up her two severed arms. The shocking white of bone was surrounded by red flesh oozing blood. She was helpless for anything now and he felt the need to fuck her rising inside his balls.
Falah set down her hands, palm down on the desk. With a bow, he took the breasts from Suleiman's fingers and set them down with the others. There was a space for one more thing: her head.
Suleiman stood up as the guard and Falah pulled Lydia to her feet. They guided her to the run. Behind her, droplets of blood were bright red against the white tile. It was surreal as they guided her to lie down on her back with her neck resting on the pillow. Falah spread out her brown hair, leaving room for Suleiman to kneel before her head.
“My sultan,” said his attention, “we are ready.”
Cock aching painfully, Suleiman knelt down on the edge of the rug. His cock smacked her in the face.
Lydia leaned back, straightening her neck, and opened her mouth. He could feel the heat of her breath against his balls. His cock looked huge next to her throat, as if he could reach into her belly with his length.
He looked up at the guard. “If you miss, not only will you suffer a thousand agonies, but your family will suffer too.”
The guard gulped and fingered the haft of his ax. “I will not miss.”
“When I cum, I will snap my fingers.”
“Yes, my sultan.”
Suleiman looked down at her open mouth. She was shaking. The ruined holes where her breasts were continued to pour blood on the carpet, staining it. She as brought her wrists, now the ends of her arms, to the pillow and kept them there as if she was pinned to it. He could see the tension in her arms, the desperation not to pull back in fear of not gaining the release of death.
He didn't bother speaking. Grabbing her head with both hands, he pulled back and aimed his dripping cock to her mouth.
She strained to open her mouth as wide as possible.
With a groan, Suleiman drove it home. There was no scrape of teeth, only the wet confines of her throat. He watched as her throat bulged from the girth of his length. It turned him on to feel her gagging on the brutality of his blow, but he knew he wouldn't last long.
Spreading his legs for balance, he began to fuck her. Not gentle strokes of a loved one. Not the pounding of raping a disobedient slave's ass. He slammed into her, trying to break her neck and jaw with the force of his thrusts. Her body jerked with every stroke and he relished the smooth sensation of her throat straining to contain him.
As he pulled out, she gagged for breath, but he didn't care. He pounded into her face, fucking her with all his might. His eyes kept watch of her wrists, for any sign that she was flinching.
But the severed arms never moved.
Her chest rose and fell in spasms, moving in the elegance sway of a dancer. She was giving him pleasure, the only bit she could. Her stomach clenched and relaxed, faster than he was thrust, and it vibrated her length. She kept her legs close to the ground but there was no question she was giving him her everything she had.
Suleiman drove hard, screaming out as he buried his length deep into her mouth. Her face grew purple with his thrusts, as he refused to give her a chance to inhale around his cock. Streamers of saliva and precum poured out and coated her face, adding to her discomfort.
But she never moved from the pillow.
He felt his orgasm boiling in his balls. Leaning back, he prepared for the flash of the blade. Each thrust became an agony as he held back his orgasm. It was only a matter of seconds before he came, but he wanted to torture as long as he could before he couldn't make it.
With a bellow, he drove hard into her throat and came. A single hot jet of cum burst out of his shaft, splattering her throat. He gasped and yanked back, barely able to snap his fingers.
The ax slammed past him, punching throat her exposed neck and the pillow. Shards of the tile burst out from the impact. The guard yanked the blade back up before Suleiman even considered thrusting back in.
The time it took for the blow was less than single frantic thrust.
As blood burst out from her throat, he shoved hard and saw his cock head through the severed open of her neck. Still gripping her head, he leaned back and began to fuck her mouth even harder. The head separated and more jets of cum burst out of the gaping hole to splatter against her spasming body.
Suleiman's world centered down on her head. He fucked it hard and fast, pumping the skull as much as his hips. More cum spurted out of his shaft, painting her dying body as the arterial spray died down. He continued to drive into her, using her skull for his own pleasure until another orgasm slammed into him.
But he wasn't done. As he pulled his aching cock from her head, he dropped it to the side. Inching forward, he aimed his swollen length to the gaping hole of her neck. He had never done it before, but he sank easily down her ruined throat. With his length, he almost reached her stomach, but it was still hot and slick.
Groaning, he slammed into the stub of her neck, fucking her body with the same intense fervor as her skull. He would get his pleasure out of her for as long as he could. He came but kept on thrusting. He could feel the bone of her spine against his balls, but he didn't care. Crouched over her head. he gripped her armpits and slammed home. Each thrust shook her body and she jerked and writhed in her death throes.
Finally, after too many orgasms to count, Suleiman withdrew his aching cock. It hurts from too much pleasure and he was shaking. Blood dripped down from his chest and squelched the rug underneath him.
He looked down at his cock. It was limp, sated completely. He felt drained and empty. His cum was splattered on the run, her body, and her head. Streamers of it crisscrossed the ragged wounds of her breasts and more of it had collected in the pit of her belly button.
With a smile, he slumped back.