The Lustful Time Lord's Revenge-Chapter 199 - Public Humiliation Fantasy

I stared into Isabel’s eyes, trembling with pure panic. My [Time Stop] skill, which I had now mastered more deeply—I could not only halt time but also choose who remained conscious within the frozen world, and to what extent their bodies could move.

For this Isabel, I allowed only her consciousness to awaken. Her body remained fixed, a helpless statue, but inside, her soul was screaming within its own cage of flesh.

Through her gaze, overflowing with unspoken terror, hatred, and madness, I could only imagine the silent screams filling her head.

My hand then grabbed her black hair, gripping it tightly at the roots. With my other hand, I guided my hard, engorged member towards her open mouth.

"Take this, you arrogant girl," I murmured.

I forced my thick shaft into her mouth with a firm, merciless thrust. Her red lips were forced to stretch unnaturally wide, swallowing a width that seemed almost impossible. I felt the resistance from her jaw and teeth, but I pushed harder, past the point of comfort, deeper inside.

Khk—

A small sound, perhaps my own imagination, but the sensation was real. Her incredibly tight throat clenched tightly around the tip of my cock, as if trying to reject this foreign invasion.

But I didn’t stop. My hips drove forward, pushing deeper, deeper still, until finally her upturned nose was buried completely in my pubic hair. The strong musky scent must have overwhelmed her senses, the smell of my masculinity now dominating her entire being.

Oh, the sight.

Isabel Mercedes, her beautiful face flushed and eyes wide with horror, was now choking on my cock, buried deep in her throat. Tears streamed down from the corners of her eyes, soaking her pale cheeks. Her neat hair was a mess from my grasp. She was a picture of exquisite, total ruin.

I let it linger for a few moments. Just standing there, savoring the sensation of her convulsing throat wrapped around my shaft, and even more, savoring the look of devastation on her trapped face. The frozen cameras around us, the thousands of stunned pairs of eyes in the audience, all bore silent witness to this absolute humiliation.

And strangely, even while doing this under the brightest spotlight, before thousands, I felt no shame or disturbance at all. Was I an exhibitionist? Not really. My libido was high, but what I felt now wasn’t just physical arousal.

Perhaps it was because of all the humiliation this woman before me had thrown my way in the past. Every sneer, every condescending look, every effort she’d made to make me feel like trash—it was all coming back to her now, tenfold.

And that’s what truly excited me: imagining the depth of humiliation, despair, and shattering ruin Isabel must be feeling within her trapped mind.

My hand gripping her hair moved, my fingers gently stroking the black strands, a contrast to the violence I was inflicting on her body. I leaned down slightly, bringing my lips close to her motionless ear.

"You know, Isabel," I whispered, my voice low but clear, meant for her alone. "I’ve always wondered about that sharp mouth of yours. It turns out... it’s quite enjoyable. More suited for a useful function than just hurling insults."

My words were deliberately aimed at piercing her already shattered pride. The mouth that used to spit venom was now completely filled with my manhood.

Then, with deliberate motion, my hand pulled her head back. My wet cock slowly slid out from the depths of her throat, producing a lewd, wet sound. When it was almost fully out, I stopped, observing.

My glistening shaft was coated with a clear layer of her saliva, reflecting the arena lights. It was physical proof of my dominance of her ruin.

Without warning, I thrust my hips forward while simultaneously shoving her head down.

Chlurp!

A wetter, deeper sound as I plunged back into her throat. This time faster, rougher.

And with that rhythm, I began to use her mouth brutally, and with utter contempt. Every thrust in was a statement of power. Every pull back was an exhibition of her weakness. I treated her not as a human, but as an object—a thing to satisfy my vengeful lust.

And it felt incredible. The physical sensation was indeed peak—the warmth, the wetness, the tight pressure of her throat—but that wasn’t all. What made it so special was the context.

This was Isabel Mercedes. The untouchable rich girl. The one who once looked at me like dirt on her shoe. Now, the mouth she held so precious was being used as the cheapest of sex toys.

Although I’d done similar things to other women before—to the rebellious Arianna, the innocent Angeline, even the saintly Charlotte—it felt different every time. The physicality might be similar: warmth, wetness, pressure.

But the emotion behind it, the history of hatred and contempt that preceded it, that’s what made each experience unique. With Isabel, it felt... profoundly satisfying. Like a sweet poison creeping through my veins.

I grew wilder. My grip on her hair tightened, pulling and pushing her head with a rhythm that grew faster, deeper. The wet, muffled sounds from her forced throat became the filthy background music.

I didn’t care about the frozen world outside, didn’t care about the time counting down in the corner of my vision. Here, in this world I had stopped, there was only me, Isabel’s helpless body, and my vengeance being sated in the most primal way.

Every thrust was for every condescending look.

Every pull was for every sharp word.

Every one of my increasingly heavy gasps was for every time she made me feel worthless.

Inside the cage of her trapped mind and body, Isabel experienced unspeakable ruin.

AAAAAAAAAAAAAA—!

The silent scream filled every corner of her consciousness, shattered, formless. It was no longer a word, but a pure wave of panic, humiliation, and unbearable pain. Her mind, usually sharp and calculating, was now like glass shattered by a hammer—fragmented, unable to assemble a single logical thought.

’BASTARD! DOG! MONSTER! YOU SON OF A BITCH!’

Every curse word she’d ever heard, every swear she knew, was hurled within her shattered heart like a desperate mantra. But the words meant nothing. They just bounced inside her skull, powerless to change the horrific reality unfolding.

’MY MOUTH... HE’S USING MY MOUTH LIKE... LIKE A SEX TOY! HE’S USING MY MOUTH!’

That reality hit her over and over, each time Adam’s large, rough cock pushed deeper into her throat. The sensation of the foreign object filling, pressing, violating her intimate boundaries.

The constant choking. The musky male scent filling her nose, mingling with the air she could barely draw. And most devastating of all—the shame. A shame so deep, so vast, she felt like she was drowning in it.

’I truly can’t bear this. Not once in my life... not even in my worst nightmares... did I ever imagine this would happen to me.’

Her tears flowed freely, hot and bitter, mixing with the saliva she couldn’t swallow.

She wanted to move her hands, to claw at Adam’s cold face until it was destroyed. To bite, to tear his flesh, to feel his blood fill her mouth in retaliation. To scream, to shriek, to call for others, to beg for help from anyone who could hear.

But she could do nothing.

Helpless. The word echoed in her head. She, Isabel Mercedes, daughter of a prestigious family, star of the Nine Stars Academy, one of the best, always respected—was now completely helpless. Like a doll to be used at will. Like trash.

Meanwhile, outside, I yanked her hair tighter, the rhythm of my hips growing faster, more brutal. I could feel the pressure building at the base of my stomach, heat creeping up my spine.

Almost.

At the peak of this madness, a thought surfaced: To decorate her beautiful, arrogant face with my cum. To smear it, to stain her beauty with proof of her degradation.

But I quickly dismissed it. No. Decorating her face with semen would be more beautiful, more satisfying, once I was truly finished with her. For now, I still had much more I wanted to do to her body.

So, with firm resolve, I drove my hips forward for one last deep thrust, burying myself to the hilt in her throat, and let everything explode.

"Aaah...!"

A groan of relief escaped me. The first spurt was the strongest—hot and thick, immediately flooding her tight passage. I kept pumping, releasing the burden of my hatred and vengeance into her body. So much that her tight throat couldn’t contain it all.

The thick white fluid, filled with my vengeful lust, filled her cavity, then began to rise, seeking an exit. And that exit was found through the two small holes of her upturned nose.

The warm, thick semen began to spurt out from both of Isabel’s nostrils, streaming down like two small white rivers, past her upper lip, mixing with the saliva and tears already there. A few drops even shot out far enough to land on her cheeks, on her chin.

A sight so filthy, so humiliating, so perfect.

I slowly pulled my cock out, savoring every centimeter as it slipped from the grip of her mouth and throat. My shaft, now coated in a mixture of saliva and a thin layer of my own cum, glistened wetly, still rock hard thanks to my maxed-out libido stat.

Then, my eyes settled on Isabel’s face.

The face that was once so beautiful, so graceful, with a fragile beauty that captivated many. Now? Now she looked... a little disgusting, but even more seductive.

Her facial skin was flushed red with shame and oxygen deprivation. Her eyes were red from crying. Her black hair was disheveled, some strands sticking to her wet cheeks.

Her nose and mouth were a disaster—thick white semen oozed from both nostrils, dirtying her entire nose and upper lip area. Her mouth hung slightly open, filled with a pool of cum, with remnants of the white fluid dripping from the corners onto her chin and neck.

She looked like a victim of something utterly depraved. And indeed, that’s exactly what she was.

I bent down, bringing my lips close to her ear. My heavy breath brushed against her skin.

"Very good, Isabel," I whispered, my voice full of false praise that sounded sincere. "You did excellently. Your mouth turns out to be quite talented for this sort of thing. I’m very impressed."

Then, I whispered the final command for this session. "You can move now."

As if a lock was released in her nervous system. Full control over her body returned—and along with it, all the sensations held back by [Time Stop] came flooding into her system all at once.

"GHHHHKK—! UGH—! COFF! COFF COFF!"

Isabel crumpled forward as if slapped, her body shaking. She choked violently, coughing uncontrollably, trying to expel all the foreign fluid from her throat. Her hands flew up to her face in panic, touching the wet, sticky mess on her nose and mouth, and an expression of profound disgust and horror appeared on her face.

"Uwaa... ugh... blaahh—!"

She spat out a gush of white fluid mixed with saliva onto the arena floor, her body shuddering uncontrollably. Her breath came in ragged gasps, a mixture of sobs, coughs, and desperate sighs.

She slumped on the floor, her body hunched, her face almost touching the ground, the remnants of her humiliation still dripping from her face. Her hoarse, broken voice was clear in the silence of the still-frozen world around her.

I stood tall above her, looking down at her ruin with cold eyes, while unconsciously wiping the remaining fluid from my erect shaft. The timer in the corner of my vision kept ticking: [26:48...].

The show wasn’t over. In fact, it had only just begun.