Faces of Beth by Carver Pike

Author:Carver Pike
Language: eng
Format: epub, pdf
Publisher: Carver Pike
Published: 2022-04-10T07:00:00+00:00

Speaking of Gore, there he was. Andrew spotted him up ahead and followed him past the next stable where a very well-endowed man had three older women on their knees, blindfolded, with their mouths open.

As Andrew walked by, he couldn’t help glancing left and peering in at the action. This was all so new to him. It reminded him of the crazy sex shit going on behind the red door at the Wicked Waltz before Gore killed the man in the alley. That place had seemed so sleazy where this, this seemed erotically elegant in an odd kind of way.

A choking, gagging sound brought Andrew’s attention back to the reality of the situation, and he looked around the crowd blocking the stable to see the man inside had shoved his cock into one woman’s mouth. She was brunette with grey streaks in her hair and had sagging tits. She gagged and pitched forward, nearly puking, until he removed his cock. She spit on the ground and nearly vomited.

The crowd yelled at her.

“Puke you fucking whore!”

“Filthy cunt!”

“Fucking throw up, why don’tcha!”

“That’s all you’re worth, you fat cow!”

As they hurled disgusting remarks at the poor woman, she smiled back at the crowd and licked her lips, seeming to love it. The man had already moved to the next woman, whose silver hair dangled in front of her face in strands. He shoved his cock into her mouth and kept it there while she gagged. When he tried to pull away, she leaned forward on it, not wanting him to stop. Until she did, in fact, vomit on him. The crowd went wild.

“Yes!”

“Puke!”

“You gross fucking pig!”

“Fucking nasty heifer. Puke it up, grandma!”

She smiled with vomit dripping down her chin and spit out her dentures.

Maybe this isn’t any classier than the Wicked Waltz. Maybe kinks of all degrees live within all social classes and only the judgmental

and self-righteous believe they see the difference. Inside, we’re all the same animal.

Andrew watched in awe, wincing, and trying not to vomit himself until he felt a tug on his arm and looked over to see Gore pulling him away.

“Come,” Gore said.

Andrew followed.

The crowd behind him continued shouting.

“That’s degrading,” Andrew said.

“That’s the point,” Gore replied. “They want to be degraded.”

“Why would anyone want that?”

Gore shrugged. He seemed to have no interest in that display of public humiliation.

It was the next stall that caused Gore to stop and join the crowd gathered there.

In this stall, on her knees, was a beautiful young woman. She was tied up with her arms behind her back. The rope was thin but skillfully woven into an intricate design. The artist who’d put her in this position was an older, blonde woman with her hair pulled back and braided into an interesting design of its own. A purple scarf covered most of her face, up to her eyes, where she tried to hide her crow’s feet with dark mascara and eyeliner.

She had to be in her sixties, but her body was magnificent. She wore skin-tight leggings and a bodice-like top.

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