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The contact tickled but still felt too distant to rouse her completely. The fingers brushed up over her nipples and she felt them slowly tighten under the repetitive contact. Still unable to open her eyes, she became absently concerned when she felt the brush of more fingers against her ankles. The fingers gripped and she felt the backs of her legs scrape against a rough surface as they were spread wide. She opened her mouth to mumble a protest but no sound emerged. Instead, the movement of her tongue made her realise indistinctly that she could taste sweet mint and bitter lemon. In a vague sort of fashion, she remembered that there was something wrong with those tastes being mixed together. Before she could focus enough to puzzle it out, she felt pressure against her lips and unconsciously opened them in response. A warm, soft thing entered her mouth and when she rubbed her tongue against it she tasted salt. Her foggy mind suggested that the taste was enjoyable and she continued to run her tongue over and around the plum-shaped thing. She heard an indistinct sound and then felt the fingers against her nipples grip them abruptly. The sharp pain did nothing to clear her mind but made her involuntarily suck in a breath. The hands at her ankles began to slide up her legs, even as more fingers closed around her wrists. The brush of the three sets of hands, their touch felt through the veil clouding her mind, began to build a sensual heat in her body that made her hum with pleasure.
The leader of the six mercenaries grunted in pleasure when the woman's hum sent vibrations through his cock-head. He pinched her nipples harder and twisted them roughly. She was obviously a whore -- no decent woman would be out in public in such indecent clothing as the shift they had stripped from her unconscious body. Just as obviously, she enjoyed her work -- he'd never been with any other wench who reacted so enthusiastically in her sleep. He kept just his head in her mouth for another half a minute before deciding to warm the rest of him. With another grunt, he thrust forward until his cock-head touched the back of her throat. He heard her gurgle in protest but he just kept pushing. She was a obviously a pro and every pro he'd been with could deep-throat. While he continued to shove against her tight throat, he watched as four of the others held her spread wide for the fifth member of their group. See the man run his hand up and down his shaft, he growled a warning, "Now don't damage this one before the rest of us can use her Arch."
"Sure thing, Brant, Sir," replied the man with a grin. With a few more tugs on his cock, he knelt between the woman's legs and rubbed his cock-head against her slit. Although she seemed to be dry at first, as Brant watched and stuffed her mouth, he saw moisture begin to gleam on Arch's bulb.
Stilling his movements for a moment, the leader ordered, "Take her. We'll give the whore what she needs and get what we need as well." With another grin, the other mercenary lined himself up and then slammed home. The impact shuddered up the woman's body and her mouth tightened around the leader's cock again. Brant waited patiently until Arch settled into a rhythm and then began to pound away at the whore's face. It was past time he got his own satisfaction.
Seth spent the rest of the day following Narelle around the court as she seemed to aimlessly approach random members of the court.