Chapter 971. Letting Her Count From One To Three... And More While Riding Me!**

Chapter 971: 971. Letting Her Count From One To Three... And More While Riding Me!**

The rhythm in the chamber shifted from desperate worship to something more calculated and cruel. Rex, enjoying the power he held over Iris’s very instincts, decided to turn her service into a game of humiliation.

He reached up, his hands sliding from her waist to grip her hips with bruising force, guiding her movements with rough precision.

"Harder, Iris! Don’t just bounce like a fucking amateur!" Rex barked, his voice cutting through her haze of arousal. "Move your hips more!"

"I want to feel your pussy grinding against the base of my cock with every stroke!"

"I want to feel every wet inch of you sucking me dry!"

"Come on! One! Two!" His hips bucked upward to meet her downward thrusts, creating a thunderous, wet grinding sound.

SQUELCH SLAP. SQUELCH SLAP.

Iris gasped, her breath coming in ragged, broken stutters. "Ahhh yes!"

"Yes, Rex! Haaah nnngh!" The physical stimulation was overwhelming, the grinding at the base of his cock sending lightning bolts of pleasure straight to her brain.

Her body was responding instinctively, her hips swiveling and grinding exactly as he demanded.

Rex smirked, watching her face contort with pleasure. "There you go!"

"Now, since you’re doing such a good job being my little toy, I’ll let you take over!"

"Your turn to count, Iris... Count every time I fuck you. One... two..."

Iris froze mid-thrust. The sudden demand for conscious participation for her to articulate her own debasement struck a nerve that even the overwhelming lust couldn’t numb.

Her hands, which had been braced against Rex’s chest, slid down to grip his rock-hard abdominal muscles, her fingers digging into his tan skin.

"Guh... no..." she whimpered, her voice cracking.

A flash of her old self, her old dignity, flickered behind her dilated pupils. "That’s... that’s too much... I refuse... I refuse to do something so degrading... ahh... nngh..."

The atmosphere in the room instantly curdled. The playful cruelty in Rex’s eyes vanished, replaced by something cold, sharp, and genuinely dangerous.

He didn’t move, but the sudden stillness was more terrifying than his previous violence.

"You dare resist my command?" Rex asked, his voice dropping to a deadly whisper that made the hair on Iris’s neck stand up. "After everything I’ve given you?"

"After you’ve shown me how much you love being my slut?"

Iris’s heart hammered against her ribs like a trapped bird. The pleasure was still there, coursing through her veins, but it was now poisoned by genuine terror.

"N-No... please... Rex, I didn’t mean... ahh, please don’t be mad..." she pleaded, her hips involuntarily twitching against him despite her fear.

Rex didn’t answer with words. Instead, he slowly clenched his fists at his sides, the tendons in his forearms standing out like cables.

Then, with a slow, deliberate motion, he raised one finger and pointed directly at the empty space where Veylor’s spectral form hovered, unseen by Iris but terrifyingly present in the psychic tension of the room.

"Remember this, Iris," Rex growled, leaning up close to her ear so she could feel his hot breath. "Your ex-boyfriend’s soul is at stake."

"His entire existence... his precious, fragile little mind... it’s all hanging by a thread."

"One wrong move from you, one moment of defiance, and I’ll make sure his soul is torn apart before he can even scream."

Veylor felt the threat like a physical blow. He screamed in his mind, a soundless torrent of agony.

’Iris, don’t listen to him! ’

’Don’t let him use me to break you!’ But he knew he was powerless.

He was the hostage in a game played by a demon.

Iris’s eyes went wide with horror. "No..."

"No! Anything but that!" she shrieked, the sound tearing from her throat in a raw, unfiltered panic. "Please, Rex! I’ll do it!"

"I’ll do anything! Just don’t hurt him! Don’t hurt Veylor!"

Desperation took over, overriding every remaining shred of her pride. She began to ride him with a ferocity that was almost violent, her hips slamming down onto him with enough force to bruise.

"One! Ahhh! Two! Nnngh! Three!"

PLAAAAAAP!

"OH GOD, REX! FOUR! FUCK ME! FUCK ME HARDER SO I DON’T STOP! AH AH AH AHHHHH!"

She began counting frantically, her voice rising in pitch with every number, each one punctuated by a wet, sucking moan and a desperate, grinding thrust.

One

SQUELCH

Two

SLAP

Three

SQUELCH

Four

SLAP.

She was riding him like a woman possessed, her body a weapon of desperate compliance, each movement faster and more frantic than the last as she tried to drown out the terror with the only thing she had left: the obscene, overwhelming sensation of being fucked senseless.

The revelation struck Veylor like a physical blow, sending shockwaves through his spectral essence. His nonexistent heart seemed to shatter.

’She’s doing this for me...’ The thought was both beautiful and devastating.

Every obscene movement, every humiliating word she uttered, every time she surrendered her dignity, she was doing it as a shield to protect his soul from Rex’s cruelty.

She was sacrificing herself, piece by piece, to keep his consciousness from being obliterated. The horror of witnessing her degradation was now compounded by the crushing weight of her martyrdom.

Iris was shaking violently now, tears streaming down her face and mixing with the sweat that made her skin glisten under the ritual lights. But she didn’t stop.

She couldn’t stop. Her hips moved in a frantic, desperate rhythm, each downward plunge a plea for mercy for the man she loved.

"O-one..." she gasped out, her voice cracking as she slammed herself down onto him. "Two... ahhh... nngh... three..."

The numbers came out between ragged breaths and involuntary whimpers.

Rex let out a bark of delighted laughter at her compliance. "That’s it! That’s my good little girl!"

Without warning, he bucked his hips upward with tremendous force, driving his cock upward with such violence that Iris’s entire body jerked off the altar. He wasn’t just fucking her now; he was aiming for her very core.

"Hahaha! Look at you counting like a fucking trained animal!"

With each thrust, Rex drove himself deeper than before, his cock punching past her cervix to press hard against her womb. The sensation was overwhelming, a deep, invasive fullness that made Iris’s toes curl and her vision blur.

THUD. SQUELCH. THUD.

The sound of his pelvis hitting hers was wet and heavy, echoing the brutal pace he was setting.

"Hahaha! You’re as well-behaved as when you were in the training grounds, bitch!" Rex taunted, his hands moving up to grip her hair, pulling her head back to expose her throat. "Remember those drills?"

How did you used to obey every order without hesitation? Now you’re doing it for pleasure, but it’s the same fucking thing!"

Iris couldn’t even process the insult. The physical sensation of him hitting her womb was sending waves of disorienting ecstasy through her nervous system.

In a desperate attempt to prolong the contact and prove her submission, she leaned forward, lowering her upper body until her sweat-soaked breasts were crushed against Rex’s hard chest.

She wrapped her arms around his neck, clinging to him like a drowning woman clinging to debris, and increased the speed of her riding.

"How shameful..." Rex whispered darkly against her ear as she labored above him, his breath hot and mocking. "To think the great Iris, reduced to this... back to serving me again like the cheap whore you truly are."

"Do you feel it? How pathetic you look?"

"Mnnn... mnuaahhh! Ahhh!" Iris’s scream was muffled against his shoulder as she surrendered to the onslaught. "It... f feeels... mnnnuuuuuuu... Oh god, Rex! "

"FUCK! "The pleasure was so intense it felt like pain, a searing, overwhelming overload that made her brain short circuit. "It feels... so fucking good... mmmph... ahhhh!"

She was caught in a vicious cycle: the terror of losing Veylor pushed her to obey, and the obedience triggered a level of arousal that she could no longer control. Her moans became a continuous, wet chorus of surrender.

SQUELCH, SLAP, SQUELCH, SLAP.

The noise of her cunt sliding over his cock became a constant, obscene soundtrack to her degradation.

Veylor watched as Iris’s eyes rolled back in her head, her body moving with a mechanical, desperate intensity. He saw the way her hips bucked uncontrollably, the way her thighs trembled with exhaustion, and the way she continued to count through her tears.

’I’m sorry, Iris...’ he screamed silently into the void.

’I’m so sorry you have to become this for me.’ But even as he mourned, he couldn’t look away from the raw, terrifying spectacle of her brokenness.