Triad: New Rule verseXastral rayne

[Verse]

Huang Quo Xi was integral to the murders.

The young man was part of the invading shadows engulfing the Tiang headquarters. There had been insults thrown at the Xi name from the Tiang family, harsher than their usual rivalry afforded them. Even though all the Triad under the collective Xuy worked together to stay strong against the Yakuza and other crime lineages in Yareli City, also known as New City, the Chinese organized groups did not all feel amicably toward each other.

His father, Lou Wan Quo Xi, was a king with blood rights to the Quo Xi empire and all its enforcers. They weren't big like the great Kageyama Yakuza under Yuji Honu's leadership, but they were still fierce. And Lou Wan was hungry for more. But the real symbol of the Quo Xi triad was its queen, Nayao. Formidably, she had planned this. Her skills in hidden politics and gaining power over men, even under the thin veil of doing it for her husband and son, had brought them here. A quiet slaughter of the Tiang. And although it had happened suddenly, it had not been an assassination. The streets needed to know Xi had taken Tiang by force, not betrayal.

It cost Xi some men, but in turn they'd wiped out the Tiang. Their affiliated rivers of drugs and imported girls and weapon's import now belonged to Xi.

It was this that Lou Wan, in his bloodied suit and gray hair held his speech about, in the grand Tiang dining room, where the décor was gold incrusted but the walls were smeared with blood of the previous owners. He went on to congratulate the men who'd gathered here, in their suits and still holding their bladed weapons. There was one less Triad family in the New City night, but one had grown exponentially stronger, too. He held up a stolen bottle of cognac and waved it at the men, and the men cheered, already drunk on the adrenaline of killing fellow humans. There were bodies, friend and foe, on the floor around them.

And, toward the end of Lou Wan's declaration of victory, after having taught the men that power is taken by those who won't let it go, he held his arms out, knife in one hand and the bottle in the other, to invite heaven itself to duel him. "Who dares challenge me? I am king. I am emperor. Anyone is welcome to try and take my power!" The men around the long table howled with elation at the tail end of their bloodlust. There was blood even on the chandelier high over Lou Wan's head.

And somehow, the ruckus of celebrating murderers was quieted by the sound of leather soles on steady wood.

On the other side of the dining stage, a young man, a head taller than his father, climbed on. Huang was hunched, ready to leap, as he walked toward his father on the other end. He was holding a hatchet and a dagger. The long youth had his hair in his eyes, undone form the well-oiled back-do he usually sported when he did his father's bidding around the city. His suit was expensive, but ripped from the hard work of cutting down Tiang family members and their protectors. The look of insult grew from angry to crazed on the older Xi's face.

"I challenge you for your new power, then, father." said the boy who meant to spill their blood where the late Tiang had taken their most important meals. Without much sense through his rage, Lou Wan knocked the bottle with his knife, the collision spraying the expensive liquid but leaving him with two weapons, one of good steel, tested many times tonight, and one of jagged glass and a handy bottleneck to hold on to. He ran at his son, more aggravated to have been interrupted than threatened by the youngster. The men were silent in their chock.

Huang ducked and slid back from the skillful swings of his father's attacks. One slash cut the stomach of his jacket and shirt up, and there was red light bouncing off the rip when he turned away from the next, knife-led jab. But then the chandelier made singular crystal sounds and stilled. And the son had entered his dagger into his father sternum. Lou Wan was frozen. And then his legs gave. He tried to speak, to cuss his son out, but he could only gargle when the hatchet came down rhythmically on his throat and chin, over and over, until Huang was chopping wood.

When Huang stood the men were choking, their bloodlust fed but their confusion stifling. The rules were clear. There was a shift of leader in the Xi triad. From the side, another, more delicate set of steps were heard. Nayao. The director of this plot?

 

[.Crimson.]

To say that this had all be orchestrated from behind the scenes would be correct in the assumption but the reason for it was undeniably simple. Many rumors might circulate that it was because of the numerous mistresses that her former husband had on the side and in the shadows despite him assuming that Nayao did not know of their existence. But they would be falling short of the actual point behind the violence and their eldest son the one who dealt that fatal blow. Her appearance was quite refined as delicate steps were taken toward the stage and once up on it each step take was calculated and precise.

Nayao allowed her eyes to narrow in a way that spoke of brimming violence barely being held behind a veil of an amicable mask that was placed on when in the presence of their group and others in general. Only her husband and son were privy to this side of the woman, a cold-hearted nature which proved that her heart was thoroughly encased in ice and had never truly melted the permafrost that grew from an abusive childhood. Both of her arms were crossed over her breasts as the female finally came to a stop just a few inches shy of Huang, even going so far as to give a smile in his direction and a delicate hand reached out to caress his cheek in turn.

"I am not too sure why this is a surprise to so many of you. My late husband had numerous enemies it just turned out that his own wife was among the masses." Nayao remarked with a sly little smirk on crimson painted lips, a signature color that was used by her and the proud woman downright refused to wear any other shade. Dark brown locks were carefully done up in curls that framed a porcelain face and honestly most might mistake her for a doll come to life. Even back in her younger years the female had been praised for her beauty and none of it had managed to fade or wane even well up to the age of thirty-eight years.

Nayao made a dismissive sound inside of her throat after looking down at what little remained of Lou Wan's face and even one of her heels came down to add insult to injury and dig into the carnal mess of bone and bloody skin that now drenched the wood below. "Pitiful creature, indeed." She scoffed at the notion that he had once been an interest to her but that glowing interest and intrigue had sharply diminished with both age and whenever Huang would give her intel on his latest nightly conquest.

Breasts were enveloped in a tasteful emerald silk qipao with crimson details along the collar and the material left little to no imagination of the delicate curvature of both her hips and bottom that were quite attention seeking in their own right. Though that feeling of superiority did not last long as she could distinctly feel a hand coming at her from behind and envelop the delicate swell of her throat in a calloused but firm grasp. Nayao glared at the image of her son from over the expanse of her shoulder, apparently not quite able to see the calculating scheme that had run its course through his head and in turn managed to score him both the lead role of the Triad and absolute control over his own mother in the process.

"Huang...what is this nonsense?!" She managed to gasp that out in a rough tone that spoke of the pressure being placed on her larynx and what little oxygen she had was being used to fuel that anger boiling within her chest at being tricked and played for a fool. Lungs outright gasping audibly as enough slack was given and the petite woman was forced to collapse onto the wooden floor below shortly after, grasping at her neck and eyes becoming daggers.

 

[Verse]

He was tall over his father's warm corpse. At least the old man Quo Xi had gotten to see his victory over the Tiang family. Lou Wan had avenged that particular sleight against his own honor. It was a necessary kindness paid to the father by the son. His power needed to be ripe and grown when it was taken. But now the man who'd led the Xi triad was as much a man on this table as poultry was birds, or pork was pigs. Served up as proof of the shift of power, ushered in by Huang's hatchet. He still held the handle of that killing weapon, but left the dagger in his father's chest. For a moment he bathed in the adrenaline, standing there, a pillar of triumph, and symbol of youth overtaking experience. How foolish of the old man to think he could win with physical strength.

He listened to his mother's calculated footing, and smiled when she was close enough. He leaned into her touch but there was a dark sentiment around the love in his eyes when she addressed the men. She had her moment too, chiding the troops. She couldn't very well come in here and be gentle. She'd sent him as a gladiator, and didn't want the men to confuse the emissary for the queen. She had set this up. She'd whispered in his ears and promised him power, a power that belonged to them both. He had a bit of his mother's blood, he supposed, when he played a long but made his own rules in secret.

Huang looked down at her heel when she defaced the broken cranium. It was certainly a powerful show, to those who still had doubt in their hearts about her. Her son never doubted. He had seen who she was, and who she could be. A possessive woman, with a fire father had been addicted to, though he had other vices too. Of course she'd be offended when she heard about the other women. And it was easy to play the dutiful son to both of them. And play both of them.

She was beautiful when her speech was cut short by the squeeze of his hand. She was just a woman, after all, with a delicate neck. Finally she was being put in her place. All that bravado was exchanged for misplaced, small anger at the end of his arm, when he tested the strength of her throat. The men mumbled among themselves. There were many twists for them tonight. But was sudden as this was, they were more familiar with a male in charge. And beautiful women should suffer the orders of strong men. Huang saw confusion and vengeance in her, but he wouldn't make his father's mistake. He deposited her on the table, by his feet. She had no choice other than to crumble as he wanted.

He looked down at her and shifted hands for his hatchet. One swing and she'd be done for. "This nonsense is the end of your short rule, mother." he answered. There was laughter from the men. Huang gestured with his free hand for the chairs, and those that could, sat down, while the others were left on their feet, all of them crowding the edges of the table. Huang had shown them his worth in battle. But being violent like that wasn't enough. He was going to cement his vigor into their eyes and memory. He needed to show Nayao her place, too, if he was to lead the Xi.

So he squatted down to be at her level, almost, and raised his hatchet. The men gasped when it came down, but he'd only left it embedded in the table, right by her, but not in her. He grabbed the qipao by its collar with one hand. "Why would you think a schemer like you would get to dominate us men?" he asked, and the faithful members of the Xi muttered in agreement all around her. They'd rather have a male heir. The odds had been stacked against her from the beginning, but he'd whispered to her that she was owed her power, that she would be unopposed if she took it, especially with her son at her side.

His other hand shoved her shoulder, which would push her back suddenly, while his first hand still held her dress. It would inevitably cause it to rip off her body as the fell backward. Everyone had always been so eager to see what the woman looked like, underneath her expensive clothes. "I'll show you what you're good for, mother." he assured her the audience was wide-eyed and engaged.

 

[.Crimson.]

To say that the woman was dumbfounded at the moment would be a sincere understatement since even a fellow schemer had not been able to see this coup coming. Instead of giving in the proud female instead tried to remain at least somewhat dignified despite being all but kneeling on the wooden stage with her qipao now in nothing short of rags that barely hid anything from the eye. If her son thought it to be that simple to break her spirit than Huang would be sadly mistaken. Throat still stinging from the constant pressure that came from the collar of the dress and now that it was ripped it allowed the denied oxygen to replenish. Defiant eyes were narrowed as she took to collecting a fair amount of spit inside of her mouth before propelling it forward in a vicious spit that was timed just right so that her son would end up receiving it right between both eyes when he knelt down to her level. "Ungrateful bastards, the lot of you."

Nayao would try and fight the inevitable but with Huang now cemented as the newfound leader the rest of the men in that room would follow the newfound heir to the throne without question or delay. Her only child had been the cause of the female's downfall and that allowed a sickening knot to form inside of the expanse of her stomach, one could even say that the woman was proud of his skillful manipulation if he could pull the wool over her eyes. "Never stopping to think just where you would even be if women did not exist in this world. Hot headed tempers and meaningless fights avoided all because of a female's sly tact in the form of words and not bloodshed." Nayao crumpled back onto the floor as a well-placed backhand had been enough to throw her off balance, fingertips gingerly toying along a lower lip that was beginning to swell up and even split into a thin layer of blood from the impact. It was not until then that she could distinctly hear a wheezing breath to her right and a quick glance found her husband looking at her with a mixture of pride amidst dying gasps.

She actively had to fight off one or two of the men who had joined Huang on the stage and were key players in forcing her hands behind her back and ensuring that the female could not use her legs in any act of self-defense. Body shifting back and forth as if trying to find a weak spot to manipulate but after a few minutes passed it became apparent that the two bulky men were able to easily subdue her and any strength she possessed paled in comparison to their sheer muscle. Tongue peeked out from behind her lips as it swiped along the blood pooling at the left corner of her mouth, even going so far as to laugh at the mere notion of Huang teaching her a 'proper place' as he put it.

"Go ahead - become nothing better than your father. A worthless man who needs others to do his work for him." Nayao snapped out in a bitter tone that overflowed with venom and spite in each syllable. It was not until the men saw fit to actively paw at either side of her chest and cupped both breasts in turn that her eyes widened in the first show of fear during the whole exchange. Wait, was he intending to pass her around like a kind of cock sleeve for the men as a means of beating subservience into the woman. Nayao gnashed her teeth together as soon as one male got the bright idea to attempt at forcing her mouth open, intent to use her throat in a manner that was not at all dignified and all he received for his troubles was teeth clamping down and a violent howl of pain. "You try that again; I will make sure to bite it clean off!"

 

[Verse]

It was satisfying to see the dress come off so easily, though the places it clung to the woman had red marks from the burns of dragging while ripping. Like any boy his relationship to his mother's body was complicated. Huang had eyes trained when she was revealed to the world, and to herself; not as the intelligent liar, self-proclaimed, but as someone who had played a mind's game and failed. He had bested his father in a competition of pure bloodspilling, which was the man's forte, and now he'd beaten this woman in her professed arena. He had known what to do the moment she had confided in him in a roundabout way, inviting him to make his own conclusions. He had mapped out his mother's expressions and giveaways, however minute, and she had worn many of them when she tried to manipulate him into being the tip of her spear for this revolt. It had been easy seeing the weaknesses in her imaginings. She had trusted him the same way father had trusted her. Her losing move had, as always, been being a woman in a world of men. Why should Huang settle for being her spire while she ruled, when he could be king over her, and use her subjugation to bolster his claim?

She was still haughty after having been brought so low. Just like father had thought his skills would save him, this time too. Huang didn't even blink when she spit at him, and took in the change in her features when she blew her fluids at him. He drew three fingers over the cut in his clothes that Luo Wan Quo Xi had given him, and then drew those bloody fingertips over the bridge of his nose where his mother's spit ran down. He promptly wiped those digits with all the family traces, over the extended tip of his tongue. The gesture, especially while he kept eyecontact, was particularly spiteful, as seen by the gathered men. As far as a usurping went, this was rather picturesque. He would engrave into their minds why he was the only right ruler of the Xi triad. Though, since they all preferred to be governed by a cock rather than a cunt, this battle was mostly won, already. His taming of his mother, the ruthlessness that'd take, would lessen the betrayal of their father.

He smirked when she lamented what had happened, and shrugged, dismissively. He had always heeded her advise, but unlike what she thought, he had never taken it for the very last word. He'd climbed on her intelligence to reach higher than her. She'd been his teacher, more than she knew. But her limits weren't his. "So why haven't you risen over us, mother?" he asked and looked around to pander to the crowd that would eventually have to tell the story of what happened today. "If you're so smart, why are you our whores and cock sleeves? Seems you women want this instead." Because the men wanted to believed it, they laughed, self-congratulatory. While fooling his mother had been walking a knife's edge, controlling these goons was child's play.

Through it all, the old man Quo Xi was dying. His face was mostly left to express, but there was little hope for him, given the dagger in his chest. The look from his wife would not revive him, like it would in a fairy tale. The son chuckled at his fading father and stood while they made sure his mother couldn't move in any way they didn't want. He let her talk. It was the only weapon she had while she was produced on her knees, with wrists crossed over her spine. He allowed for some of the men to help themselves, but her body was not meant for them yet. He laughed loudly when her expression changed and even more when she bit at the other man's bits. Huang waved at them and they slunk away toward the side while still securing her in place.

He took out his cock and the men gasped, those who hadn't seen it in bathhouses and brothels already. He was twice the man Lou Wan was, and there was a wheeze from the geezer at the clear fact, spelled out in monstrous flesh out his son's fliers. The dying male moved only slightly when the young beast stood very closely in front of the kneeling woman. One of the men holding her arms back also grabbed her hair to keep her head still as Huang slapped her across her face three times with his heavy dick. "Do you have anything to say, mother? No more venomous words? No more spit for me?" he asked as he looked down at her as though she was one of the girls from the lantern houses. The men around the table boomed with laughter.

 

[.Crimson.]

If anything, the knowledge that she held no cards at the moment secretly left the woman quite petrified, but the proud woman would be damned if she actually showed it to Huang personally. Her eyes darted to the prostrated form of her husband who honestly seemed about as shocked as she was to have her only son all but straddle above her and undo the zipper of his pants and pull out what looked to be a monstrous tool. Nayao momentarily lost what composure she had at the mere thought of actively taking that in any part of her body but knew that with their former subordinates helping the cause there was little that the petite woman could do to actively stop him in achieving what he desired. Cherry painted lips were parted in an audible gasping sound that almost sounded ethereal in the pitch it took on, not able to process the fact that her son had actively slapped her across the face and with his cock no less.

Despite the bravado a part of her was actively turned on and the arousal pooling inside of her loins made the woman actively sick to her stomach. Huang was indeed endowed in a manner the likes of which the woman had never seen in her lifetime and eyes took on a glazed look to them as she found her mouth all but forced open by two pairs of hands so that he was able to push past the barrier and occupy the depths of her velvet throat. Muscles inside of her throat squeezing him relentlessly as a gag was heard though the din of it was garbled at best due to the girth occupying her mouth and the saliva pooling on the inside. It burned and she had the ability to actively scream though that too was muffled and barely coming out as anything but white noise. Nayao gulped audibly as if trying to save herself the embarrassment of drooling like some common whore, even though thick and viscous strands were by now dripping from her chin and even onto newly exposed breasts.

The sad fact was despite the treatment and humiliation, the petite woman found herself actively getting off on the treatment even with the knowledge that it was Huang doing this to her. Once she managed to get past the act of fighting him off the grip on her hair had been given some slack, the throbbing pain from the grip still lingered and occasionally would cause a sting to shoot across her scalp from the treatment. Sharp eyes that were once filled to the brim with venom and malice were replaced with something else, a kind of dulled lust and softness that usually Nayao was able to keep behind closed doors and not allow anyone else in the Tiang to see much less know existed. No one barring her husband knew of Nayao's almost nymphomaniac tendencies, there was truly little that did not get a rise out of her, and it was a good part of the reason that him seeking out others to sleep with had bothered her so much.

Lungs burned as she was finally given a few seconds of reprieve, gulping down oxygen as though it were going out of style and now looking at Huang in a manner that to most would be considered indecent and immoral. A part of her brain was still able to cling to the knowledge that this was her son and despite those thoughts, she should at least be able to temper them to not give into the man she had given birth to and raised. "Please...no more." Nayao rasped out, though the look in her eyes and dusting of blush on her cheeks and neck told another story. One that would let him believe that his own mother actually wanted it despite audible protests to the opposite.

 

[Verse]

While she was putting on a brave exterior, it wasn't hard to see that she was in distress. The proud woman would be berating him, using all possible verbal daggers, if he had done a fraction of this when she was at her full power. But she only had power through airs. Over men that thought she was in charge. She only had it through other men. And now they'd all turned against her at once. Her capital of threats was turned to nothing suddenly. She was shaken, even if she tried to keep her poise. Nobody would believe her pride or honor now, when she was dressed in fine rags, and on her knees. She didn't believe it herself, but she tried to. She was beautiful, though, in her defeat, even if she tried not believe. Her denial was thin, and it was crackling there, held in place by the only might that mattered. Brute force. In the end that was their currency. She had thought it was hers to command, that her scheming gave her that strength. But if she'd had an ounce of real power now, she'd have a chance. And Nayao didn't have a chance.

It was his turn to be proud. She had looked at him as he suspected. He knew that he was unusual, down there. She should be happy that it was half her genetics that had gifted him this. It had certainly been a good party trick, for the hookers he enjoyed. Though she deemed herself over them, her reaction was traces of that of the other women. She was, after all, a collection of holes meant to be used, underneath her veneer of godliness. His cock filling, and impossibly grew from the sluggish maze to a hulking baton as it abused her regal features, some of which he'd inherited. She was smeared with some of his precum, soon, when the fleshy, pungent weapon started expressing its own appreciation for her soft complexion. His mother looked good for her age, but her skin had a mature texture, despite its perfect smoothness. Whatever makeup she had on was smeared and impregnated by her son's early emissions.

And then, when he sheathed that beast in her, through her often venomous lips, all her dignity was gone. Her maw was forced wide and he looked down at his mother, who'd been over him until today. She had always told him to keep composure, that losing your head could mean death, but here she was, primal reactions pushing against his cock from inside her, her sounds ugly, and desperate. He grunted loudly, animalistic to enjoy the moment to its fullest. He thrust his hips forward to measure the depth of her throat. She'd never done this for anyone, because no one was built like her son. Ah, the hug of her inner muscles felt so comforting. "You're finally the mother I always wanted." he awarder her, darkly, looking down, and the men laughed, though they were mostly engaged in taking out and stroking their own cocks. Huang followed her anatomy, and made sure the angle of his cock was straight down into her.

And there, among the saliva and shadows of her hatred, he saw something else. She was melting, around the gagging and slurping, she was changing. Ah, this couldn't be forced into her, not yet. No, she had to have a certain talent for that kind of expression. A sudden alertness that quickly sizzled into acceptance and-- affection? Not the motherly kind, but that of a harlot, being given her favorite thing. He scoffed and treated her rougher. He son's legs were strong, and his violence had proven itself plenty. Maybe some of the men saw it too, because their own jaws dropped in awe. The son had to test his hypothesis and gave her room to breathe, popping the dick out of her now almost welcoming mouth to rest the underside of the big thing against her cheek, over one eye, when she begged him.

"No more what?" he asked when he got to see that budding whorishness in her already. He raised a finger for the men that held her, and they tentatively let go of her wrists and her head. It was a risk to give her freedom, but at least she had been subdued enough to plead, even though Huang wanted more out of her. And he saw that she had it in her to give it, too. Now he stared her, down, like an anime he wondered if he'd tamed a little, with his cock still supported on her addled face. His balls were on her chin. The scene was rather daunting, with the mother kneeling and her chest glistening with the spit her son had fucked out of her throat, cock resting on her face and forehead. "Why don't you show me what you don't want me to do to you, mother?" he asked, unforgiving.

Her son was a towering thing, the only thing that mattered in her world now, whether she hated him or had that submissive, slutty worship building. Revenge or pious. He'd still be the single character for her. And what would she do about it? The men were holding their breaths.

 

[.Crimson.]

Nayao gulped down air as if the oxygen were a true godsend at that given moment, knowing that all it would take at this point was for her to actually look at the debauched mess she had left on his cock to lose what little sanity remained. An audible shudder ran over the length of the female's body, knowing it was only a matter of time before Huang would put the pieces of the puzzle together and use this condition of sorts to his advantage. As long as he would keep her physically satiated and exhausted, it left no room for the mother to plot a revenge scheme much less have the energy stores to put it into action. Doe eyes narrowed in obvious annoyance to the throbbing sensation that was currently taking place between her inner thighs, not that her son was able to see just how soaked his actions had made her thus far and she was not about to give that information up for free. Fuck, but if the woman did not want to just give in and take his entire girth back down into her throat and refuse to allow it to leave again.

The only thing still holding her back was the notion of all of their men watching her, the notion that even with a myriad of cocks out the only one that she could focus on belonged to her only son. Eyes took on a heated tone to them as she noticed the newfound freedom Huang had so graciously gifted her with, likely as a means to get her to make that first move and lose any and all possible leverage in the current situation along with it. Ebony tresses that were once pristine now hung in a veil around her facial features and some even plastered across porcelain skin due to the sweat that lingered there. An embarrassing set of mewls sounded out from the depths of her throat, thighs and legs struggling to remain still but the muscles inside of them still vibrated like mad. Nayao was losing control of it and fast, no longer able to view Huang as anything more than a piece of meat that she wanted to devour and swallow whole. Once the mindset managed to kick in and put itself into overdrive, the men would be treated to the sight of the former matriarch pulling back just long enough to push his girth back into the confines of her throat and a gagging sound could be heard echoing off the walls.

Whatever pride she once had was gone for the time being, all that existed in her personal little world was the cock invading her throat to the point of where breathing wasn't an option but a privilege. Guttural noises sounding out each time she would manage to go down until her nose was almost buried in the modest nest of curls that lingered there, an obvious scent mixed in with the soap Huang was known to use and smelled like often invaded her senses. Nayao found that as time went on, her muscles would relax just enough to allow Huang proper entry into the deepest recesses of her gullet and pull back out only when he was sufficiently coated in a viscous mixture of saliva and his own precum. She no longer cared if the other men were watching the spectacle that the woman made, all that existed inside of her lust addled mind was the decadent flavor and desiring to have it all end up in a culmination that drenched the insides of her throat.

 

[Verse]

They had all heard what he wanted. They were worried about that fat thing, resting on a very proud woman's face. It was hubris to have them men let her go, but Huang didn't hesitate, even if the men did. She was given her freedom, nonetheless. And with a gasp they expected blood. But there was none. There was just the beautiful mother panting and agonizing under the heavy limb. Just seeing her there, doing nothing at first, was very suggestive. Was it possible that Nayao Xi had been so stricken by the cock that she actually considered this debauched at by her own accord? Her hands could scratch the new young leader, and she'd be justified to do it, even if they'd be inclined to stop her. This was like holding your hand out to a tiger, hoping that you'd tamed it enough with abuse that it wouldn't bite. It seemed insane that Huagn would bet the well-being of that prideful cock on his mother's sluttiness. Though she had made noises and eyes like she really was smitten by his manhood - that simply couldn't happen, right? No way was the woman who might have led them such a simple beast. She had schemed all this, after all. Her head needed to be better screwed on than what could be be undone by some albeit thorough throatfucking.

Huang looked down at her when she quaked from the choking he'd given her. But soon that physical reaction was replaced by something born from inside of her. The ragged in her breathing, hitting his balls and adding to the drip of her thick spit, wasn't hesitation of distress. It was conflict. And one side of her was winning quickly. She had been of exceptional character. All she could do was seed and plant the next move, her patience was her virtue. But he'd seen a flare in her, and gone with it. She would be his prize, when father had been his triumph. Though this proximity to her teeth might make even the surest youngster think again. But he was certain that his cock belonged inside this woman, and that she'd realize it too. His flavor was already deep in her. They were compatible by blood. Now her mature body would give him something else too. She was brought up on the thought of serving strong men. Well now she could smell and tasted his strength, and it had morphed her beautiful brain into a hormonal mess, sans some oxygen.

When she moved they held their breaths, but Huang didn't flinch. He looked down at her and felt pride spiral in his chest when she started eating up the long behemoth on her own. The others gasped to see it, when they saw her throat bulge to be filled up by her sons meat once more, but this time by her own hard work. He felt good inside her throat, and he noticed when the hug of her cartilage rings softened to a more allowing embrace. "There you go, mother." he said and the men made agreeing noises, watching the incestuous show. He stroked her messy, soaked hair back to look down at her slathered face fully. He had barely seen her makeup out of place in the last decade, and here she was, filthy with fluids. He petted her scalp. It was a great show of dominance over the hungry bitch. He needed to engrain this further. So he pushed into her throat, showing good will, but then drew back a little further than he was, originally.

If she followed, and he was sure she would, she would eventually end up on all her fours. He could then lean over her, while she was still feasting on his cock, and let his hands land on her ass for support. He pulled off the shred of fabric still covering her there. She would have to bend her head back to give him a straight way into her throat then. His fingers grabbed her asscheeks and pulled them apart, and many of the men hurried to stick their heads in an angle that would reveal her snatch, and its soaked state. It be the first any of them saw of Nayao's pussy. "Look. Proud queen of our group, now drenched from sucking her sons cock!" Huang offered. And they all shared loud laughter at her expense.