Chapter 969. The Ghost Can’t Even Do Single Shits While Watching Us Have Fun!**

Chapter 969: 969. The Ghost Can’t Even Do Single Shits While Watching Us Have Fun!**

The ritual chamber felt like it was vibrating under the sheer force of Rex’s assault. In the doggystyle position, Iris was completely undone.

Rex had one hand wrapped firmly around her hair, yanking her head back to expose the vulnerable line of her throat, while his other arm reached forward to grip her shoulders, pinning her upper body down against the altar.

This gave him perfect leverage to drive his hips forward with terrifying power.

"Looks like those massive tits aren’t the only thing you can shake, Iris!" Rex roared, his voice thick with primal dominance. "Look at you! Your whole body is trembling like a leaf under me!"

The sound in the room escalated to a deafening crescendo. The wet, rhythmic squelch of his cock sliding in and out of her slick heat was joined by the increasingly violent slap, slap, slap of his groin hitting her ass.

Each impact sounded like wet leather striking stone. Iris was a wreck of sensation; her hips were being jackhammered forward by his momentum, her spine arching painfully yet pleasurably with every thrust.

"NOOO... STOOOPP! REX, PLEASE!" Iris screamed, her voice cracking from the strain.

Her nails scraped against the stone altar in a desperate attempt to find purchase as she was tossed about like a ragdoll. "It’s too much...! I can’t... AHHHH! OH GOD, IT’S TOO MUCH!"

Rex only laughed, a cruel, guttural sound that mocked her distress.

"What’s wrong, princess?" he taunted, his teeth bared in a savage grin as he leaned down to whisper hot breath against her ear. "Is a real man’s cock too big for you?!"

"Is it stretching you too wide?! Is that why you’re begging?!"

"Nnngh... ahhh!" Iris couldn’t even form a coherent response.

The sensation of him bottoming out against her womb felt like electricity shooting through her nerves.

Rex decided to escalate the torment further. He released her hair and reached down with both hands, grabbing each of her fleshy butt cheeks and pulling them apart, exposing her dripping entrance to the air.

This allowed him to drive himself in even deeper, each thrust now penetrating with a sound that was almost obscene, a wet, sucking noise that echoed through the chamber.

"AHHHH! YES! YES! FUCK ME!" Iris’s protest died in her throat as her body betrayed her again. The pleasure was too overwhelming, too absolute. "It’s not... ahh... that’s not what I said... I didn’t mean..."

"OH GOD, REX! HARDER! MORE!"

Meanwhile, Veylor was suffering a different kind of hell. Rex’s dark magic had taken hold of the ghost’s essence, using telekinesis to forcibly shift Veylor’s perspective.

He wasn’t just watching from the wall anymore; he was being dragged through the air, his consciousness forced to rotate to whatever angle Rex desired. Rex wanted him to see everything: the way Iris’s ass cheeks flinched with each impact, the way her inner muscles clutched desperately at Rex’s cock, the way her face twisted in a grotesque parody of ecstasy.

Veylor’s mind was a shattered mirror of grief.

’My girlfriend...’ he screamed internally, though no sound escaped his ghostly lips. ’My Iris is being contaminated... she’s being stained by him, piece by piece, memory by memory.’

’The sight of her smiling while being violated, of her begging for more of the very thing that was destroying her dignity, tore at his core.’

’Iris... what happened to all your defiance?’

’Where is the girl who stood so tall?’

’Where is the girl who promised we’d be forever?’

The horror of seeing her surrender so completely, her heart-shaped pupils glowing faintly in the dim light as she climaxed repeatedly from his brutal pounding, was worse than any physical death.

He watched as Rex’s movements became a blur of tan flesh and sweat, the wet sounds of their coupling filling Veylor’s entire world, drowning out his screams of silent agony.

The air in the ritual chamber felt heavy, almost liquid, saturated with the musk of sex and the overwhelming psychic residue of Veylor’s anguish. Rex was relentless, his stamina seeming supernatural as he continued to dominate Iris’s body.

Seeking to maximize her vulnerability and the humiliation of her position, Rex reached forward, grabbing both of Iris’s wrists. With a powerful yank, he pulled her arms back behind her, forcing her chest down against the altar while hiking her hips higher into the air.

This position arched her spine to an extreme degree, presenting her lower body as an obscene offering.

"What would your poor ex-boyfriend think if he saw you right now?" Rex purred, his voice a low rumble that vibrated through Iris’s overheated skin.

He leaned over her, his sweat dripping onto her back as he prepared for another devastating thrust. "Seeing you like this... your tits and ass shaking so sluttily while you’re getting railed by another man?"

"Imagine the shame, Iris.... Imagine him seeing how much you love it."

"Don’t... ahhh! Don’t say that!" Iris shrieked, her voice cracking between a sob and a moan. "Don’t talk about... Veylor!"

"Don’t you dare mention his name while you’re... AHHHH! OH GOD!" The words died as Rex drove himself home with renewed fury, his cock punching past her resistance and slamming into her womb.

"Nnngh... stop... don’t speak of him like that... ahhh~ haaa~" Even as she tried to defend his honor, her hips bucked involuntarily against Rex’s pelvis, betraying her words with every wet slap of their bodies connecting.

Rex let out a derisive chuckle, his eyes scanning every inch of her exposed body. As he pulled back to prepare for a deeper strike, the stretching of her flesh revealed something that made his blood boil with lust.

"Oohh~! Look at that," he crowed, his voice dripping with cruel fascination. "Your asshole is gaping open too, Iris."

"Just wide open after all that pounding... What a fucking view! You’re completely wrecked."

"D-don’t look there...!" Iris wailed, a fresh wave of mortification washing over her.

She tried to twist her torso to hide herself, but Rex’s grip on her wrists was absolute. "Please... have some mercy... ahhh!"

"REX, YES! RIGHT THERE! FUCK ME HARDER!" The contradiction tore through her soul, the shame of being seen in such a debased state warring against the undeniable, overwhelming pleasure Rex was forcing into her system.

Veylor, suspended in his telekinetically forced vantage point, felt like he was being flayed alive. Rex had positioned him at an angle where he could see everything, the way Iris’s sensitive entrance stretched and pulsed around Rex’s cock, the way her body reacted to every insult.

The ghost’s mind was a storm of denial and agony.

’You’re not getting off on this, are you...?’ Veylor screamed in the silent cathedral of his mind, his spectral essence flickering like a dying candle. ’You’re fighting it, Iris!’

’Tell him you hate it! Tell him you hate him!’ But as he watched her pupils pulse with those cursed heart shapes, as he heard the way her moans became more melodic and shameless with every thrust, a deeper, more terrifying fear took root.

’Are you enjoying being fucked by Rex?’

’Are you truly... enjoying this desecration?’

Rex heard the unspoken plea in the air, sensing the ghost’s torment, and it only fueled his sadism. He increased the tempo, his thrusts becoming short, rapid-fire stabs that sounded like wet footsteps running through mud.

Thwack squelch thwack squelch.

"Scream for him, Iris!" Rex commanded, his hips moving like a piston. "Let him hear how shameless you’ve become!"

"I’m not... ahhh! I’m not... OH GOD, REX! I CAN’T THINK!" Iris’s head thrashed wildly from side to side, her hair matted with sweat.

"I’m sorry... Veylor... I’m sorry... AHHHHHHH!" Her scream escalated into a long, high-pitched keening as Rex’s cock hammered against her most sensitive nerves, driving her toward a climax that felt less like pleasure and more like a complete surrender of her humanity.

...

The chamber had become a vortex of sound and raw, unfiltered sensation. Rex had abandoned any pretense of restraint. His movements had shifted from measured dominance to something far more feral, a relentless assault that seemed designed to break the very bones of Iris’s hips.

The wet, rhythmic slapping of skin on skin had transformed into a continuous, thunderous noise, a wet, grinding squelch slap, squelch slap that echoed off the stone walls like the beating of a diseased heart.

Veylor was trapped in a nightmare of forced voyeurism. Rex’s telekinetic grip on his spectral form was absolute, rotating him with cruel precision.

He was held at an angle that offered no respite; he was positioned directly above Iris’s head, forced to look down at the way her body buckled and twisted under Rex’s massive frame.

He saw every muscle fiber in Rex’s tan back tensing as he drove forward, every shudder that wracked Iris’s frame, and the way her inner thighs quivered uncontrollably with each impact.

’It was all I could do not to take my eyes off the situation in front of me...’ Veylor’s thoughts raced in a panicked spiral, his mind fracturing under the strain of what he was witnessing. ’If I gave in to the urge, if I closed my eyes, I couldn’t get a full picture of the situation.’

’I have to know... I have to see how far she goes...’ The horror of his own complicity terrified him more than the act itself. ’Even if I wanted to rescue her, I can’t move or touch her because I’m already dead...’

’I’m just a witness to my own destruction.’ A sob that made no sound tore through his essence. ’Endure it... I need to endure it.’

’I need to see what he’s doing to her...’

But endurance was becoming impossible as Rex shifted gears.

"You want to see how good I can fuck you, Iris?!"

"You want to see how far I can push you?" Rex’s voice was a guttural growl, barely audible over the wet sounds of their coupling.