Chapter 3 The Cult's Crimson Altar

Liora Kane's body trembled in the afterglow of Thorne Blackwood's brutal claiming, her wrists still tingling from silk ropes, her pussy and ass aching from his relentless cock and the buzzing vibrator he'd left inside her. The crimson-lit chamber beneath Blackthorn Manor pulsed with forbidden energy, its air thick with the scent of cum, oil, and her own squirting orgasms. Her raven hair clung to her sweat-slicked skin, breasts heaving, nipples raw and red from Thorne's teeth, as she knelt on the stone floor, his cum dripping from her lips down her chin, pooling on her exposed tits.

The phonograph's ghostly moans her husband's last jerks to her past affair with Thorne still echoed, intertwining with the whir of the cult's mysterious machine, its gears grinding like a heartbeat of lust.

Her detective's mind screamed to seize control, to unravel the conspiracy Thorne had hinted at a sex cult wielding cursed artifacts to enslave London's elite but her body betrayed her, clit throbbing, craving his next command. Thorne loomed above, his chiseled frame glistening, auburn hair tousled, his massive cock already hardening again in his unlaced leather breeches. "You're not done, detective," he growled, blue eyes burning through her. "The cult's watching. Prove you're mine, or they'll have your holes instead."

Liora's breath hitched, her pussy clenching around the vibrator, its relentless buzz pushing her to the edge. She stood, legs shaky, her torn garters dangling, dagger lost somewhere in the chaos of their fucking. The chamber's walls were lined with mirrors, reflecting her cum-drenched body tits glistening, thighs slick with her juices and shadowy figures lurking beyond, their eyes glinting like predators. The cult. Her skin prickled, arousal spiking with danger as Thorne grabbed her hair, yanking her toward a crimson altar at the room's center, its surface etched with serpentine runes that pulsed faintly, as if alive.

He shoved her face-down onto the altar, her breasts flattening against the warm, slick stone, ass high and exposed. "They need to see you break," he whispered, his voice a dark caress as he poured more of the cursed oil over her back, letting it drip down her ass crack, warming her holes until they burned with need. Her moan was cut short as he slapped her ass hard, the sting making her clit pulse, her juices squirting onto the altar. "Beg for it, slut detective," he commanded, his gloved hand spreading her cheeks, exposing her tight ring and dripping cunt to the unseen watchers.

"Fuck me, Thorne," she gasped, her voice raw, hips grinding back, desperate for his cock. Her mind raced clues from the phonograph, the serpentine symbols, her husband's death all pointed to a cult orchestrating these thefts, using relics to control desire but her body surrendered, craving the pain and pleasure he promised. He chuckled, low and dangerous, and pulled the vibrator from her pussy, replacing it with his tongue, lashing her clit with rapid flicks, sucking her labia until they swelled. Her scream echoed as he plunged three fingers into her cunt, curling to hit her G-spot, while his thumb teased her asshole, slick with oil.

"You're theirs unless you're mine," he growled, withdrawing his fingers to replace them with his cock, slamming into her pussy with a force that rocked the altar. Her walls stretched, gripping him as he pounded her cervix, balls slapping her clit with wet smacks. Her tits slid across the rune-etched stone, nipples catching on grooves, sending shocks of pleasure-pain through her. He grabbed a jade dildo from the rack, its vibrations humming as he eased it into her ass, double-penetrating her with ruthless rhythm. Liora's orgasms chained, her pussy gushing over his cock, soaking the altar as her screams turned hoarse.

The mirrors reflected the cult's shadows closing in, their hands stroking cocks and cunts, aroused by her submission. Thorne leaned close, his breath hot on her neck. "Your husband was their pawn," he confessed mid-thrust, "testing relics on you, watching me fuck you to see how far you'd break." The revelation burned her husband's death, cock in hand, was no accident but a cult ritual gone wrong. Her anger fueled her arousal, her hips bucking harder, taking his cock deeper as she snarled, "Tell me everything."

He flipped her onto her back, spreading her legs wide, her pussy gaping and dripping as he re-entered, his cock hitting new angles that made her vision blur. A cultist stepped forward a woman, masked, her breasts bare, nipples pierced handing Thorne a vibrating egg. He pressed it against Liora's clit, its buzz amplifying her screams as he fucked her harder, his free hand choking her throat lightly, her pulse racing under his grip. "The relics enslave through pleasure," he grunted, "and you're their prize. Join me, or they'll fuck you until you're nothing but a dripping whore."

Liora's body convulsed, another orgasm ripping through her, squirting so hard it splashed the cultist's mask. The woman moaned, licking it off, as Thorne pulled out, his cum shooting across Liora's tits, hot and thick, marking her as his. But he wasn't done. He bound her ankles to the altar's corners, spreading her wide, and handed the cultist a strap-on carved from obsidian. "Show them your loyalty," he commanded Liora, as the woman knelt, her tongue rimming Liora's ass before plunging the strap-on into her cunt, slow and deep.

Liora's moans filled the chamber, her body writhing as the cultist fucked her, Thorne's fingers teasing her clit, edging her mercilessly. "The cult runs deeper than you know," he whispered, "Scotland Yard's in their pocket. Harlan's one of them." The betrayal her mentor's hidden role hit like a thrust, her pussy clenching the strap-on as she came again, her mind piecing together clues: Harlan's secrecy, the rigged vibrators in her lodgings, the cult's plan to flood London with relics, turning it into an orgiastic hell.

As the cultist withdrew, Thorne took her place, his cock reaming Liora's ass now, the oil making every thrust slick and brutal. Her body arched, tits bouncing, as he fucked her to another blackout climax, her juices and his cum mixing on the altar. The cult watched, chanting softly, their hands working their own bodies, as Thorne unbound her, pulling her into his lap, his cock still hard inside her. "Choose now," he growled, fingers buried in her pussy. "Join me, fuck me, rule with me or they'll have you."

Liora's detective instincts screamed to fight, but her body, dripping and spent, craved his control. She nodded, sealing her fate with a final, shuddering orgasm, her lips whispering, "Yours." As the cult's chants grew louder, a new artifact a collar studded with vibrating gems was slipped around her neck, its hum promising more pleasure, more danger. The chamber's machine roared, and Liora knew the real case was just beginning, her pussy already wet for the next filthy revelation.