Chapter 5: Critical eror

Jo remained trapped behind Orin's eyes, forced to witness the intimate aftermath. Jo felt the tremor that ran through Orin's body, a physical manifestation of the war raging inside him. The jealousy was a physical ache, a pressure building behind his ribs, but the unwanted heat continued its insidious spread.

Then, Jo felt Orin's hand move. Not with conscious intent, it seemed, but almost involuntarily. The hand slipped down, fumbling slightly with the rough fabric of his trousers, closing around the hard ridge of Orin's erection. The touch was hesitant at first, then firmer, a desperate attempt to anchor himself, perhaps, or maybe an unconscious surrender to the conflicting urges tearing him apart. Jo felt the shocking intimacy of the act, the rough texture of the cloth, the heat of the flesh beneath – Orin's flesh, reacting to a scene that should have filled him only with rage.

Inside the room, Sona continued her task. When she finally drew back, Adam stirred. He looked down at her kneeling form, a predatory glint entering his eyes. Jo saw, with a fresh wave of sickness, that Adam was becoming hard again under her attention. Sona seemed to notice it too. Her own eyes, when she looked up at him, were wide, glazed with an undeniable passion. She wasn't just submitting; she was aroused by the entire exchange, by his dominance, by her own degradation.

Adam smirked, a cruel twist of his lips. He reached down, not gently, but grabbing Sona's jaw, forcing her head up. "Still hungry, slut?" he murmured, his voice low and rough.

Sona didn't answer with words, but her eyes, fixed on his, burned with fervent agreement. She leaned forward eagerly as Adam guided his reawakened erection back towards her mouth. This time, there was no pretense of gentleness. He gripped the back of her head, tangling his fingers forcefully in her copper hair, and began to use her mouth like a sheath, setting a hard, driving pace.

He thrust against her lips, forcing himself deep into her throat, eliciting choked gasps and gagging sounds. "That's right," he grunted, his rhythm piston-like. "Take it all. Useless cunt." He punctuated his words with rough thrusts, pushing her head down until her chin was pressed against her chest. As he fucked her mouth, his other hand snaked down, grabbing one of her full breasts, squeezing roughly, kneading the soft flesh without a hint of care. "Like that, don't you? Being treated like the whore you are."

Sona's eyes watered, strands of saliva mixed with drool trailing from the corners of her mouth. She choked, gagged, her body trembling under the force of his assault. Yet, she made no move to pull away, no attempt to resist. Her hands, Jo noticed with a fresh wave of horrified fascination, weren't idle. They had slipped down between her own legs, fingers working frantically against her drenched flesh, chasing her own pleasure amidst the brutal violation of her mouth and throat.

Orin's grip on himself tightened, his knuckles white. Jo felt the frantic pounding of Orin's heart, the ragged gasps of air he sucked in, mirroring Sona's choked breaths. The sight of her simultaneous degradation and self-arousal, coupled with Adam's casual cruelty, was pushing Orin towards some precipice. The jealousy was unbearable, a white-hot agony, yet the voyeuristic thrill, the sheer transgressive power of the scene, kept his eyes glued to the window, kept his hand moving in rough, desperate strokes.

Adam's pace quickened, his grunts becoming louder, rougher. He pulled Sona's head tighter against his groin, burying himself completely in her throat. "Yeah... take it... slut..." His voice was strained, nearing climax. Sona's frantic movements between her legs mirrored his intensity, her hips bucking slightly even as she knelt, choking.

With a final, harsh groan, Adam flooded her throat. Sona convulsed, a muffled choking sound escaping her as she reflexively swallowed, taking all of him. At the same moment, her body went rigid, her back arching, and a visible tremor ran through her. A dark patch spread rapidly on the front of her tunic near her thighs as she squirted, her own climax hitting her with overwhelming force even as she swallowed his.

Satisfied, Adam roughly pulled himself free and shoved her head away. Sona coughed violently, gasping for air, spit and semen dribbling down her chin. Adam paid her no mind, simply falling back against the pillows with a grunt of satisfaction, eyes already half-closed.

Sona remained kneeling for a moment, catching her breath. Then, incredibly, she looked towards Adam, and a faint, hazy smile touched her lips. Her eyes, still glazed with pleasure, held a look of adoration, of gratitude. "Thank you..." she whispered, her voice hoarse.

Then, she slowly got to her feet. Ignoring her own state, the mess on her tunic, the lingering evidence of Adam's climax on her face, she picked up the discarded waterskin from the floor, dampened a cloth, and began… cleaning. She wiped the spilled seed from the floorboards, tidied the rumpled blankets on the bed around Adam's indifferent form.

A silent groan tore from Orin's throat, muffled by the cool night air. His body convulsed, hips bucking involuntarily against his own hand as a desperate, unwanted climax ripped through him. Hot release flooded his trousers, offering no relief, only shame and a deeper sense of violation.

The intensity of the forced orgasm, combined with the overwhelming emotional feedback, was too much. Jo felt a searing jolt, far worse than the initial headache. The shimmering letters reappeared, frantic and overlaid with static:

*ERROR!*

Emotional Feedback Overload Detected!

Host Stability Compromised!

Emergency Synchronization Halt Initiated!

Sensory Input Shutdown...

 – the whole scene dissolved into fractured pixels and then vanished. Once again, Jo was plunged into absolute, impenetrable blackness.