Dark Warden

Obese. 

Yet oddly immaculate. 

How did I land myself in this mess? 

He's the key to making it all vanish. 

I strive for composure, but tears persist. 

The silence between us is tangible. 

His scrutiny intensifies as he reviews my file.

His gaze meets mine, a disdainful frown etched across his face. 

He seems genuinely offended by my transgressions. 

A barrage of questions ensues, and my responses lay bare my guilt and shame on display for all to witness. 

This fucking sucks.

An attempt to pose a question is met with a dismissive glance, a silent reminder to tread carefully. 

I know better than to push it, so I divert my gaze to my hands. 

Three miserable months have passed – no communication with other inmates, lawyers, or family. 

This is the trial. 

My sole opportunity to step through that door and into a new life. 

Desperation consumes me; I yearn to erase it all.

He places the file on the table, leaning forward, his scornful eyes fixed on my tears. 

His protruding belly hovers above his belt as he contemplates. 

I remain silent. 

Leaning back, he instructs me to stand, followed by a demand to shed my clothes. 

I hesitate, attempting to voice my protest, but he stands and cuts me off with a harsh slap. 

My head recoils, and I comply, disrobing as he takes his seat once more.

He commands me to kneel, and I comply without protest or tears.

The air grows heavy with tension as he orders me to crawl forward.

On all fours, I move with a leaden pace; the sound of his belt buckle and the rustle of pants unzipping echo through the room.

Despite the short distance, each inch feels like a mile. 

When I reach him, I look up to find his semi-hard cock inches from my face. 

However, before I can react, he yanks me by my hair, leaning in closely. 

His words are a chilling promise of a new life if I obey, coupled with a sinister assurance that attempting to disclose tonight's events to authorities would be futile, as no one would believe me. 

The grip on my hair loosens, and I fight back tears, determined to hold my composure.

He commands me to lick his cock. 

I wretch, earning another painful tug on my hair and a warning that I am to do it now or pay with my life.

He releases my hair. 

Again, I wretch, but compliance is the only option.

I lick.

With a facade of enthusiasm, I lick with an urgency that mirrors the desperation to escape this nightmare, for my life truly does depend on it.

He moans, employing his hand to draw in his stomach. 

The view further arouses his enthusiasm. 

He seizes my hair firmly and tells me to keep my tongue out. 

I do as I'm told. 

He touches a finger to the gelatinous substance on the tip of his cock and deposits it on my tongue. 

He asks if it tastes good. 

I nod yes as best I can as he holds my hair taut. 

He then shoves my mouth onto his cock, forcing himself deep into my throat as he holds my head steady and fucks my face.

The nearly empty room reverberates with his moans. 

Once more, he insists I hold out my tongue. 

I comply without hesitation. 

He milks his shaft as he rests the head of his cock on my tongue. 

He releases my hair.

I remain in position as instructed. 

He commands my full attention, demanding that I meet his eyes. 

I follow his command.

I lift my gaze to his now greasy face as he mockingly implores me to continue sucking his cock.

I look him in the face as I continue. 

He insists on a slower pace, emphasizing the use of my tongue. 

I comply.

My soft tongue twirls around the head of his cock as I suck,  slowing down my movements while maintaining my focus on his face. 

His satisfaction is evident – he revels in the deliberate pace.

He removes his cock from my mouth. 

Again, he insists on seeing my tongue as he continues to stroke his cock. 

I stick out my tongue. 

He loses control, and once again, he seizes me by my hair, instructing me to keep my tongue out and mouth open wide. 

As he pulls on his cock cum spurts onto my waiting tongue.

He deposits every drop into my open mouth. 

Followed by the command to swallow.

I comply. 

He slumps back into his seat. 

I'm still on all fours as he rights himself and heads for the door. 

Calling back over his shoulder, he instructs me to get dressed and leave.

Without hesitation, I follow his orders, and as promised, it all fades away.