I was planning to start discussing the details of the spear and the best approach to repair it after Oeyne recovered from her most recent orgasm, expecting her recovery to be rather quick after freeing her from her stat restrictions, her impressive Endurance working again.
Unfortunately, I miscalculated. As she recovered, she shifted in her seat, ready for a second round. Who could have imagined continuously caressing her breasts as she recovered —or keeping my fully-erect cock in her ass, pumping lazily to stretch her ass even further— could make her aroused.
She grabbed my wrists, her hold once again strong enough to crack stone now that she was free of both the physical and magical restraints. "Fuck me," she growled, drunk arousal dancing in the depths of her beautiful brown eyes.
"Such a needy whore," I murmured, trying to sound playfully dissatisfied, which was harder than the entirety of the acting I had pulled against Delia. Sounding negative was particularly difficult with a sexy caramel beauty in my lap, grinding repeatedly to take my cock even deeper into her ass, pressing hard enough to shatter the pelvis of a weaker man.
"I'll show you needy," she grunted, feeling the need to show dominance after her earlier humiliation —a state that she clearly enjoyed immensely, but humiliation nonetheless.
I had no intention of catering to her particular wish to switch roles. Twisting my wrists, I freed myself from her grip, only to latch around her arms to mirror the earlier situation. With a grab established, it was trivial to stand up and dash toward the nearest wall, trusting her legs to wrap around my waist reflexively to maintain the balance. Not to avoid the fall — as something like that would even register to her as painful— but because she didn't want to lose my presence in her bowels.
With my speed, it took only a moment for me to slam her against the smooth surface of the wall —which didn't crack only because of the extensive magic that went to reinforce it during its construction, designed to contain magical explosions— using one hand to keep her both hands together despite her earnest struggle to free them. My strength, combined with the leverage of the position, allowed me to occupy both of her hands with just one, highlighting that despite all my magical talent, I was stronger than her.
She reacted beautifully to her new imprisonment, my flesh replacing the chains.
Her reaction wasn't shocking. After all, due to her political position, she was living under a metaphorical siege for the last several years, one woman against a horde of guilds that maintained a stranglehold on the economy. Yes, she was incomparably stronger than any single one of them maybe except some guild leaders and other high levels —or maybe not even them, as it was very rare for someone with a high-level cap to actually follow the path of crafting rather than combat— but with their numbers came to the political weight, so much that she was only able to hide away as she worked in her works.
At first, my presence was nothing more than an easy source of money for her to fulfill her material needs for experimentation —and to pay the sizable debt she accumulated through gambling. Even when I first revealed some magical talent, it barely enhanced my utility without changing the nature of the relationship, just adding mana to the things she wanted to extract from me.
But as slowly revealed the extent of my power —both physical and magical— her perception started to shift, starting to see me as an equal at first, then even more. However, even then, she didn't truly surrender until today, where I truly displayed everything she needed.
I had displayed my strength before by dominating her directly, but the ability to take her abilities to a point of turning her into a weakling —though she assumed the enchantments on the chain was responsible— was on a different level in terms of power differentiation, proving that not only I could defeat, but completely destroy her.
After effectively living under political siege for a decade, that fact was clearly a comfort for her. After all, if I could destroy her easily, I wouldn't be trying to seduce her just to sell her out later. I was fucking her, because I wanted to fuck her. Nothing less, nothing more.
It wasn't just my direct strength that impressed her, though. My connection with the headmistress —even though it was established quite a bit later than she might have assumed— was another reason for her surrender. Political power was not something she desired, or could manage due to her excessively direct personality, but that didn't prevent her from suffering under the political weight of the others. With my connections, I represented an umbrella to protect her from all kinds of inconvenient little political machinations that might target her in her comfortable little nest.
The show I put in with Delia just pushed that point further. Even though she couldn't truly understand the subtleties of my actions —she lacked the ability to do so even under the best of circumstances, and being locked in a cabinet while suffering from chain orgasms was certainly not the optimal mental state to appreciate the details of a counter-seduction operation— she appreciated me taking control of a situation she had no chance of successfully managing.
She appreciated it in a very visceral manner, if the furious rocking of her hips was any indicator.
As I responded with an enraged slam, she moaned, testing the limits of the sound isolation of her workshop. She was enthusiastic about my roughness, and even if she hadn't been, she had no one to blame but herself. She was the one to tempted me to restart despite my intention to discuss the technical topics relating to the spear.
Still, as much as I enjoyed her moans, I enjoyed forcibly cutting them off even more. I slammed my lips against hers, invasion of my tongue cutting her cries.
With my body on hers, she was pushed against the wall with no hope of escaping, but that didn't prevent her from trying to reverse the situation, using her recently-restored strength to the limit. Of course, just because she occasionally tried to turn the tables, only to lose, didn't mean that she was unhappy with the position. After all, losing brought its own rewards. Her hips continued to rock but still maintained the perfect angle for me to invade her ass properly.
So, when I suddenly yanked her by her luscious dark hair and threw her on the couch, face first —the same one I used to entertain Delia— she barely resisted. I latched her from behind, but this time, I slipped into her wet pussy.
Neglecting such a wet welcome wouldn't have been gentlemanly.
She just moaned as I inserted into her from behind, leveraging the fact that her lips were free once again. With no ability or desire to contain the noise coming out of her throat, her howls and shrieks filled the room as my presence stretched her soft lips to the limit.
I delivered a relentless assault into her wetness, something she rewarded me with her dazed, pleasure-filled moans. I grabbed her hair once more, this time pulling hard to turn it into a makeshift ponytail, using that to yank her head back with every thrust.
With the addition of a layer of pain, her enjoyment multiplied, her moans once again without the slightest hint of control, just sheer pleasure. Her eyes were closed, her tongue slipping out of her mouth as the pleasure reached a completely new level, the battle of ecstasy and euphoria clear on her face.
Then, she cried even louder as she tried to say something, but it turned into an unintelligible mess between her wanton moans. It seemed that, even with her endurance renewed, she was quick to reach her limit.
It wasn't surprising considering the significant strain she had gone through, unfortunately for her, I had no intention of showing mercy just because of that reason. I continued to thrust without even skipping a beat, curious whether I could make her climax again before she could recover.
"Do you think I can make you cum again in less than a minute?" I asked mockingly even as I slapped her ass, watching her bountiful flesh create endless ripples.
"I-impossible," she stammered, barely able to speak as she tried to ride her latest climax, which was rather difficult with my continuous slams.
"Oh, really?" I countered, more than ready to take the challenge. I slipped two fingers into her ass, pumping furiously.
She opened her mouth, no doubt argue against that in our sudden bet, but before she could say anything, I added another finger, shattering her words into another moan, letting out a savage grunt to match her tone. It took several seconds for her to reassert control over her body, and even then, it was barely enough to utter two words. "That's cheating!"
"You should have put the conditions beforehand," I said mockingly as my fingers quickened their assault to match the furious speed of my hips, both pushing my physical capabilities to the limit. I used my other hand to grab the couch, using the leverage to move even faster.
Under the strength of my assault, the couch started to crack ominously, warning me to slow down. However, winning the bet was more important than the continued existence of a couch, so I pushed even harder.
My furious last-minute push paid dividends, as her body started trembling with a fresh wave of overwhelming pleasure before the aftershocks of the previous one could disappear. Unfortunately, as I pushed for the final time before her tightening triggered my climax, I managed to overwhelm the hardness of the couch, and its back shattered with a loud sound, forcing me to cast a spell to prevent its slivers from hurting us.
[-4 Mana]
Not that it would have been dangerous in any way, but I didn't like the idea of Oeyne feeling pain if I wasn't the one directly responsible for it.
We lay among the shattered remains of her couch as we caught our breath. "That was a gift," she murmured petulantly as she recovered enough to string together more than two words.
"Then they should have given a more robust gift," I countered mockingly, aware that she was just reflecting her frustration of losing the bet. Though, considering we didn't actually put a stake for the bet, and she got another amazing climax in the process, it was hard to point out how exactly she had lost. She grumbled a bit, one that immediately disappeared as I started caressing her breasts.
"So, what is my reward for winning the bet," I said as I continued to enjoy the softness of her skin.
"That doesn't count," she countered immediately, her tone implying she was far more interested in repeating the process of the bet more than getting the eventual victory, not that I could blame her for it. It had been rather entertaining to cut loose physically to such a degree.
"Maybe we can repeat the bet later," I sighed with regret as I raised my hand, creating a complicated pattern of magical formulas floating like stars of the midnight sky. "It's time to work. We need to talk about the spear…"
—
[Level: 30 Experience: 447193 / 465000
Strength: 41 Charisma: 53
Precision: 35 Perception: 37
Agility: 35 Manipulation: 40
Speed: 34 Intelligence: 44
Endurance: 34 Wisdom: 46
HP: 5370 / 5370 Mana: 6600 / 6600 ]
SKILLS
Master Melee [100/100]
Master Tantric [100/100]
Master Biomancy [100/100]
Master Elemental [100/100]
Master Arcana [100/100]
Master Subterfuge [100/100]
Expert Speech [75/75]
Advanced Craft [50/50]
PERKS
Mana Regeneration
Skill Share
Empowerment (1/1)
Teleportation
COMPANIONS
[Cornelia - Level 21/25]
[Helga - Level 17/21]
I was planning to start discussing the details of the spear and the best approach to repair it after Oeyne recovered from her most recent orgasm, expecting her recovery to be rather quick after freeing her from her stat restrictions, her impressive Endurance working again.
Unfortunately, I miscalculated. As she recovered, she shifted in her seat, ready for a second round. Who could have imagined continuously caressing her breasts as she recovered —or keeping my fully-erect cock in her ass, pumping lazily to stretch her ass even further— could make her aroused.
She grabbed my wrists, her hold once again strong enough to crack stone now that she was free of both the physical and magical restraints. "Fuck me," she growled, drunk arousal dancing in the depths of her beautiful brown eyes.
"Such a needy whore," I murmured, trying to sound playfully dissatisfied, which was harder than the entirety of the acting I had pulled against Delia. Sounding negative was particularly difficult with a sexy caramel beauty in my lap, grinding repeatedly to take my cock even deeper into her ass, pressing hard enough to shatter the pelvis of a weaker man.
"I'll show you needy," she grunted, feeling the need to show dominance after her earlier humiliation —a state that she clearly enjoyed immensely, but humiliation nonetheless.
I had no intention of catering to her particular wish to switch roles. Twisting my wrists, I freed myself from her grip, only to latch around her arms to mirror the earlier situation. With a grab established, it was trivial to stand up and dash toward the nearest wall, trusting her legs to wrap around my waist reflexively to maintain the balance. Not to avoid the fall — as something like that would even register to her as painful— but because she didn't want to lose my presence in her bowels.
With my speed, it took only a moment for me to slam her against the smooth surface of the wall —which didn't crack only because of the extensive magic that went to reinforce it during its construction, designed to contain magical explosions— using one hand to keep her both hands together despite her earnest struggle to free them. My strength, combined with the leverage of the position, allowed me to occupy both of her hands with just one, highlighting that despite all my magical talent, I was stronger than her.
She reacted beautifully to her new imprisonment, my flesh replacing the chains.
Her reaction wasn't shocking. After all, due to her political position, she was living under a metaphorical siege for the last several years, one woman against a horde of guilds that maintained a stranglehold on the economy. Yes, she was incomparably stronger than any single one of them maybe except some guild leaders and other high levels —or maybe not even them, as it was very rare for someone with a high-level cap to actually follow the path of crafting rather than combat— but with their numbers came to the political weight, so much that she was only able to hide away as she worked in her works.
At first, my presence was nothing more than an easy source of money for her to fulfill her material needs for experimentation —and to pay the sizable debt she accumulated through gambling. Even when I first revealed some magical talent, it barely enhanced my utility without changing the nature of the relationship, just adding mana to the things she wanted to extract from me.
But as slowly revealed the extent of my power —both physical and magical— her perception started to shift, starting to see me as an equal at first, then even more. However, even then, she didn't truly surrender until today, where I truly displayed everything she needed.
I had displayed my strength before by dominating her directly, but the ability to take her abilities to a point of turning her into a weakling —though she assumed the enchantments on the chain was responsible— was on a different level in terms of power differentiation, proving that not only I could defeat, but completely destroy her.
After effectively living under political siege for a decade, that fact was clearly a comfort for her. After all, if I could destroy her easily, I wouldn't be trying to seduce her just to sell her out later. I was fucking her, because I wanted to fuck her. Nothing less, nothing more.
It wasn't just my direct strength that impressed her, though. My connection with the headmistress —even though it was established quite a bit later than she might have assumed— was another reason for her surrender. Political power was not something she desired, or could manage due to her excessively direct personality, but that didn't prevent her from suffering under the political weight of the others. With my connections, I represented an umbrella to protect her from all kinds of inconvenient little political machinations that might target her in her comfortable little nest.
The show I put in with Delia just pushed that point further. Even though she couldn't truly understand the subtleties of my actions —she lacked the ability to do so even under the best of circumstances, and being locked in a cabinet while suffering from chain orgasms was certainly not the optimal mental state to appreciate the details of a counter-seduction operation— she appreciated me taking control of a situation she had no chance of successfully managing.
She appreciated it in a very visceral manner, if the furious rocking of her hips was any indicator.
As I responded with an enraged slam, she moaned, testing the limits of the sound isolation of her workshop. She was enthusiastic about my roughness, and even if she hadn't been, she had no one to blame but herself. She was the one to tempted me to restart despite my intention to discuss the technical topics relating to the spear.
Still, as much as I enjoyed her moans, I enjoyed forcibly cutting them off even more. I slammed my lips against hers, invasion of my tongue cutting her cries.
With my body on hers, she was pushed against the wall with no hope of escaping, but that didn't prevent her from trying to reverse the situation, using her recently-restored strength to the limit. Of course, just because she occasionally tried to turn the tables, only to lose, didn't mean that she was unhappy with the position. After all, losing brought its own rewards. Her hips continued to rock but still maintained the perfect angle for me to invade her ass properly.
So, when I suddenly yanked her by her luscious dark hair and threw her on the couch, face first —the same one I used to entertain Delia— she barely resisted. I latched her from behind, but this time, I slipped into her wet pussy.
Neglecting such a wet welcome wouldn't have been gentlemanly.
She just moaned as I inserted into her from behind, leveraging the fact that her lips were free once again. With no ability or desire to contain the noise coming out of her throat, her howls and shrieks filled the room as my presence stretched her soft lips to the limit.
I delivered a relentless assault into her wetness, something she rewarded me with her dazed, pleasure-filled moans. I grabbed her hair once more, this time pulling hard to turn it into a makeshift ponytail, using that to yank her head back with every thrust.
With the addition of a layer of pain, her enjoyment multiplied, her moans once again without the slightest hint of control, just sheer pleasure. Her eyes were closed, her tongue slipping out of her mouth as the pleasure reached a completely new level, the battle of ecstasy and euphoria clear on her face.
Then, she cried even louder as she tried to say something, but it turned into an unintelligible mess between her wanton moans. It seemed that, even with her endurance renewed, she was quick to reach her limit.
It wasn't surprising considering the significant strain she had gone through, unfortunately for her, I had no intention of showing mercy just because of that reason. I continued to thrust without even skipping a beat, curious whether I could make her climax again before she could recover.
"Do you think I can make you cum again in less than a minute?" I asked mockingly even as I slapped her ass, watching her bountiful flesh create endless ripples.
"I-impossible," she stammered, barely able to speak as she tried to ride her latest climax, which was rather difficult with my continuous slams.
"Oh, really?" I countered, more than ready to take the challenge. I slipped two fingers into her ass, pumping furiously.
She opened her mouth, no doubt argue against that in our sudden bet, but before she could say anything, I added another finger, shattering her words into another moan, letting out a savage grunt to match her tone. It took several seconds for her to reassert control over her body, and even then, it was barely enough to utter two words. "That's cheating!"
"You should have put the conditions beforehand," I said mockingly as my fingers quickened their assault to match the furious speed of my hips, both pushing my physical capabilities to the limit. I used my other hand to grab the couch, using the leverage to move even faster.
Under the strength of my assault, the couch started to crack ominously, warning me to slow down. However, winning the bet was more important than the continued existence of a couch, so I pushed even harder.
My furious last-minute push paid dividends, as her body started trembling with a fresh wave of overwhelming pleasure before the aftershocks of the previous one could disappear. Unfortunately, as I pushed for the final time before her tightening triggered my climax, I managed to overwhelm the hardness of the couch, and its back shattered with a loud sound, forcing me to cast a spell to prevent its slivers from hurting us.
[-4 Mana]
Not that it would have been dangerous in any way, but I didn't like the idea of Oeyne feeling pain if I wasn't the one directly responsible for it.
We lay among the shattered remains of her couch as we caught our breath. "That was a gift," she murmured petulantly as she recovered enough to string together more than two words.
"Then they should have given a more robust gift," I countered mockingly, aware that she was just reflecting her frustration of losing the bet. Though, considering we didn't actually put a stake for the bet, and she got another amazing climax in the process, it was hard to point out how exactly she had lost. She grumbled a bit, one that immediately disappeared as I started caressing her breasts.
"So, what is my reward for winning the bet," I said as I continued to enjoy the softness of her skin.
"That doesn't count," she countered immediately, her tone implying she was far more interested in repeating the process of the bet more than getting the eventual victory, not that I could blame her for it. It had been rather entertaining to cut loose physically to such a degree.
"Maybe we can repeat the bet later," I sighed with regret as I raised my hand, creating a complicated pattern of magical formulas floating like stars of the midnight sky. "It's time to work. We need to talk about the spear…"
—
[Level: 30 Experience: 447193 / 465000
Strength: 41 Charisma: 53
Precision: 35 Perception: 37
Agility: 35 Manipulation: 40
Speed: 34 Intelligence: 44
Endurance: 34 Wisdom: 46
HP: 5370 / 5370 Mana: 6600 / 6600 ]
SKILLS
Master Melee [100/100]
Master Tantric [100/100]
Master Biomancy [100/100]
Master Elemental [100/100]
Master Arcana [100/100]
Master Subterfuge [100/100]
Expert Speech [75/75]
Advanced Craft [50/50]
PERKS
Mana Regeneration
Skill Share
Empowerment (1/1)
Teleportation
COMPANIONS
[Cornelia - Level 21/25]
[Helga - Level 17/21]
