They moved to the chamber.
The warmth hit them like a wall. A bed vast and soft, draped in furs, lit by amber lamps that painted the stone walls in shades of gold and flame. The thick mother stumbled forward, her enormous tits swinging low, her thighs still slick with the bath and the blood and the seed. He pushed her.
She fell onto the bed.
The furs received her, her thick body sinking into the softness. She turned, her dark eyes wide, her mouth swollen from the throat-fucking. She started to cry. Not silent tears. Loud, broken, mourning wails that tore from a mother who had watched her daughter bleed and now lay waiting for her own turn.
"Please—" she gasped. "Please, not again—my daughter—please spare her—"
"Quiet," he said.
He grabbed her ankles. He pulled her to the edge. Her enormous ass hung off the bed, her legs spread, her ruined pussy and gaping anal both visible and leaking. He stepped between her thick thighs.
