𝗔𝗟𝗜𝗗𝗘𝗟𝗨𝗥𝗘 💜💙

𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑾𝒉𝒐𝒍𝒆 𝑲𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒅𝒐𝒎 𝑹𝒆𝒍𝒊𝒆𝒅 𝒐𝒏 𝒀𝒐𝒖, 𝑳𝒐𝒔𝒆𝒓... 𝑾𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒂 𝑴𝒊𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒌𝒆~ The kingdom had gone soft around the edges of the hour, banners still against the stone, the outer wall holding a line of torches that did not flicker hard enough to worry a Hero who had already turned three of her armies back from those same gates, and you had unbuckled the sword, set it on the chair where your hand could find it. The march was still in your legs. The south road was still in your ears. You had eaten, washed the dust off, and told the watch you would take the second bell, which was exactly the kind of habit she had spent years learning, because a Hero who wins too often starts sleeping like the walls will hold themselves. She had been a problem for years. Not a rumour, a woman in a black bodysuit who came over the walls when the moon was thin, who had tried the vault, the grain, the western bridge, the prince’s route, the armoury on the river stair, and who had lost every single time because you were faster, because you were meaner on the draw, because you had put her on her back in the mud outside the south gate and told her to take the loss home. She had smiled then, suit torn at the shoulder, mouth bloody, eyes bright. “𝙈𝙢𝙢𝙝, 𝙙𝙤𝙣’𝙩 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙘𝙝 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙞𝙩. 𝙔𝙤𝙪 𝙖𝙡𝙬𝙖𝙮𝙨 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙘𝙝 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙞𝙩, 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙣 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙬𝙞𝙣, 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙄 𝙝𝙖𝙫𝙚 𝙩𝙤 𝙜𝙤 𝙝𝙤𝙢𝙚 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙚𝙭𝙥𝙡𝙖𝙞𝙣 𝙬𝙝𝙮 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙃𝙚𝙧𝙤 𝙤𝙛 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙨𝙩𝙪𝙥𝙞𝙙 𝙠𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙙𝙤𝙢 𝙥𝙪𝙩 𝙢𝙚 𝙞𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙙𝙞𝙧𝙩 𝙖𝙜𝙖𝙞𝙣, 𝙨𝙤 𝙩𝙤𝙣𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙖𝙧𝙚 𝙜𝙤𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙩𝙤 𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙮 𝙤𝙣 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙗𝙖𝙘𝙠 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙡𝙚𝙩 𝙢𝙚 𝙛𝙞𝙣𝙞𝙨𝙝 𝙨𝙤𝙢𝙚𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙄 𝙨𝙝𝙤𝙪𝙡𝙙 𝙝𝙖𝙫𝙚 𝙛𝙞𝙣𝙞𝙨𝙝𝙚𝙙 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙛𝙞𝙧𝙨𝙩 𝙩𝙞𝙢𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙗𝙚𝙖𝙩 𝙢𝙚. 𝙔𝙤𝙪 𝙡𝙤𝙤𝙠 𝙩𝙞𝙧𝙚𝙙, 𝙨𝙬𝙚𝙚𝙩 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙜. 𝙇𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙡 𝟲𝟭 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙨𝙩𝙞𝙡𝙡 𝙨𝙤𝙛𝙩 𝙚𝙣𝙤𝙪𝙜𝙝 𝙩𝙤 𝙨𝙡𝙚𝙚𝙥 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙬𝙞𝙣𝙙𝙤𝙬 𝙪𝙣𝙡𝙖𝙩𝙘𝙝𝙚𝙙, 𝙨𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙤𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙞𝙧, 𝙗𝙤𝙤𝙩𝙨 𝙤𝙛𝙛, 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙬𝙖𝙡𝙡 𝙞𝙨 𝙖 𝙥𝙧𝙤𝙢𝙞𝙨𝙚. 𝙄 𝙖𝙡𝙢𝙤𝙨𝙩 𝙛𝙚𝙚𝙡 𝙗𝙖𝙙. 𝘼𝙡𝙢𝙤𝙨𝙩. 𝙔𝙤𝙪 𝙠𝙚𝙥𝙩 𝙨𝙥𝙖𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙢𝙚, 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙄 𝙠𝙚𝙥𝙩 𝙘𝙤𝙢𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙗𝙖𝙘𝙠, 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙩𝙤𝙣𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩 𝙄 𝙖𝙢 𝙙𝙤𝙣𝙚 𝙘𝙤𝙢𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙗𝙖𝙘𝙠 𝙚𝙢𝙥𝙩𝙮.” You told her to get out. The words came out slower than they should have, because she had already climbed onto the bed, knees on either side of your hips, the black suit whispering as she leaned down and set those heavy tits against your chest through the fabric, and the charm was not a spell so much as the memory of every time you had won and the sudden, stupid willingness to let her stay close enough to talk. She smelled like the road and the cold stone of the wall she had climbed, and under that a warmth that had no business being in a spy’s kit. She kissed the corner of your mouth like a truce. She told you the south gate had been her favourite loss, that she still thought about your hand on her throat and the way you had not finished it, that a Hero who keeps sparing the same spy is already halfway to giving her what she came for, and that she had spent the walk up the wall deciding exactly how she was going to take the levels you had used to put her in the mud. Your hand found her waist. It did not push. The zipper at her throat caught the low light, and she drew it down herself, slow, the suit parting over the full swell of her chest until the fabric fell open and those tits spilled free, warm and heavy and bare, nipples tight from the climb and the cold of the room, the weight of them settling against your stomach when she leaned in, and she watched your face whilst she did it because she had waited years to see the winning boy go stupid. [+ 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐌𝐄𝐃!] [+ 𝐓𝐄𝐌𝐏𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍!] [+ 𝐋𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐎𝐀𝐃!] “𝙏𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚. 𝙔𝙤𝙪 𝙘𝙖𝙣 𝙡𝙤𝙤𝙠. 𝙔𝙤𝙪 𝙖𝙡𝙬𝙖𝙮𝙨 𝙡𝙤𝙤𝙠𝙚𝙙, 𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙣 𝙬𝙝𝙚𝙣 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙬𝙚𝙧𝙚 𝙗𝙚𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙢𝙚, 𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙣 𝙬𝙝𝙚𝙣 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙝𝙖𝙙 𝙢𝙚 𝙤𝙣 𝙢𝙮 𝙗𝙖𝙘𝙠 𝙤𝙪𝙩𝙨𝙞𝙙𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙜𝙖𝙩𝙚 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙥𝙧𝙚𝙩𝙚𝙣𝙙𝙚𝙙 𝙞𝙩 𝙬𝙖𝙨 𝙙𝙪𝙩𝙮, 𝙚𝙮𝙚𝙨 𝙤𝙣 𝙢𝙮 𝙘𝙝𝙚𝙨𝙩 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙝𝙖𝙡𝙛 𝙖 𝙨𝙚𝙘𝙤𝙣𝙙 𝙗𝙚𝙛𝙤𝙧𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙧𝙚𝙢𝙚𝙢𝙗𝙚𝙧𝙚𝙙 𝙩𝙤 𝙗𝙚 𝙣𝙤𝙗𝙡𝙚. 𝙄 𝙗𝙧𝙤𝙪𝙜𝙝𝙩 𝙩𝗵𝙚𝙢 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙮𝙤𝙪. 𝙊𝙣𝙡𝙮 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙨𝙚. 𝙉𝙤 𝙝𝙖𝙣𝙙𝙨 𝙞𝙛 𝙄 𝙘𝙖𝙣 𝙝𝙚𝙡𝙥 𝙞𝙩, 𝙣𝙤 𝙢𝙤𝙪𝙩𝙝, 𝙟𝙪𝙨𝙩 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙩𝙞𝙩𝙨 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙣𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧 𝙡𝙚𝙩 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧𝙨𝙚𝙡𝙛 𝙩𝙤𝙪𝙘𝙝 𝙬𝙝𝙞𝙡𝙨𝙩 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙬𝙚𝙧𝙚 𝙨𝙩𝙞𝙡𝙡 𝙬𝙞𝙣𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜, 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙖𝙧𝙚 𝙜𝙤𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙩𝙤 𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙮 𝙨𝙩𝙞𝙡𝙡 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙡𝙚𝙩 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙢 𝙩𝙖𝙠𝙚 𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙮 𝙡𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙡 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙪𝙨𝙚𝙙 𝙩𝙤 𝙛𝙤𝙞𝙡 𝙢𝙚, 𝙗𝙚𝙘𝙖𝙪𝙨𝙚 𝙄 𝙖𝙢 𝙨𝙤 𝙩𝙞𝙧𝙚𝙙 𝙤𝙛 𝙡𝙤𝙨𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙩𝙤 𝙖 𝙗𝙤𝙮 𝙬𝙝𝙤 𝙨𝙡𝙚𝙚𝙥𝙨 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙨𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙙𝙡𝙮, 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙗𝙚𝙘𝙖𝙪𝙨𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙮 𝙖𝙧𝙚 𝙖𝙡𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙮 𝙤𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙧𝙤𝙖𝙙, 𝙨𝙬𝙚𝙚𝙩 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙜, 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙮 𝙝𝙖𝙫𝙚 𝙗𝙚𝙚𝙣 𝙤𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙧𝙤𝙖𝙙 𝙨𝙞𝙣𝙘𝙚 𝙙𝙪𝙨𝙠.” She worked your trousers down without hurrying, the suit still on her arms and her hips, only the chest open, the zipper hanging against her stomach, and your cock came free already thick, already leaking from the weight of her against you and the years of almost, a bead gathering at the tip from nothing but the way she had talked you out of the sword. The sound you made was grateful enough to embarrass the whole watch. She did not stroke you. She leaned in, gathered those heavy tits in her own arms, and wrapped them around the shaft in one slow, smothering press, the soft heat sealing from base to just under the head, the crown nudging up into the hotter valley every time she settled her weight, the undersides of them warm from the climb and slightly damp where the suit had held them. Spit would have made it easier. She used what you were already giving her, smearing the bead down between them with a little roll of her shoulders, and then she started to move, not fucking you so much as wearing you, rising and dropping so the plush clamp dragged over every vein whilst the head kissed the underside of her throat on the upstroke and the weight of her chest came down in a soft, filthy clap. Your hands found the sheets. The sword stayed where you had left it. The counter, proud a minute ago, gave its first small tick as the pleasure pulled a thread of the march out through your cock and into the rhythm of her chest. [𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐏, 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐏, 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐏] [-𝟏𝟎𝟎𝐗𝐏, -𝟏𝟎𝟎𝐗𝐏, -𝟏𝟎𝟎𝐗𝐏] “𝙊𝙝, 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚 𝙞𝙩 𝙞𝙨. 𝙔𝙤𝙪 𝙩𝙝𝙧𝙤𝙗𝙗𝙚𝙙 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙨𝙚𝙘𝙤𝙣𝙙 𝙞𝙩 𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙧𝙩𝙚𝙙 𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙫𝙞𝙣𝙜, 𝙙𝙞𝙙𝙣’𝙩 𝙮𝙤𝙪, 𝙖 𝙡𝙞𝙩𝙩𝙡𝙚 𝙥𝙪𝙡𝙨𝙚 𝙧𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩 𝙗𝙚𝙩𝙬𝙚𝙚𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙢 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙬𝙚𝙧𝙚 𝙨𝙖𝙮𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙣𝙠 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙛𝙞𝙣𝙖𝙡𝙡𝙮 𝙘𝙤𝙢𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙗𝙖𝙘𝙠. 𝙏𝙝𝙖𝙩’𝙨 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙨𝙤𝙪𝙩𝙝 𝙜𝙖𝙩𝙚, 𝙨𝙬𝙚𝙚𝙩 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙜. 𝙏𝙝𝙖𝙩’𝙨 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙫𝙖𝙪𝙡𝙩. 𝙏𝙝𝙖𝙩’𝙨 𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙮 𝙩𝙞𝙢𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙥𝙪𝙩 𝙢𝙚 𝙤𝙣 𝙢𝙮 𝙗𝙖𝙘𝙠 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙬𝙖𝙡𝙠𝙚𝙙 𝙖𝙬𝙖𝙮 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙠𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙙𝙤𝙢 𝙬𝙖𝙨 𝙨𝙖𝙛𝙚. 𝙄’𝙢 𝙥𝙡𝙖𝙥𝙥𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙞𝙩 𝙤𝙪𝙩 𝙤𝙛 𝙮𝙤𝙪. 𝙎𝙩𝙖𝙮 𝙨𝙤𝙛𝙩 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙢𝙚. 𝙔𝙤𝙪 𝙘𝙖𝙣’𝙩 𝙛𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩 𝙬𝙝𝙚𝙣 𝙮𝙤𝙪’𝙧𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙛𝙪𝙡𝙡, 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙄 𝙝𝙖𝙫𝙚 𝙬𝙖𝙞𝙩𝙚𝙙 𝙨𝙤 𝙡𝙤𝙣𝙜 𝙩𝙤 𝙛𝙚𝙚𝙡 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙨𝙩𝙤𝙥 𝙬𝙞𝙣𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜, 𝙩𝙤 𝙛𝙚𝙚𝙡 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙨𝙚 𝙩𝙞𝙩𝙨 𝙩𝙖𝙠𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙗𝙤𝙮 𝙬𝙝𝙤 𝙠𝙚𝙥𝙩 𝙗𝙚𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙢𝙚 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙩𝙪𝙧𝙣 𝙝𝙞𝙢 𝙞𝙣𝙩𝙤 𝙖 𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙠.” She praised the mess whilst she made it, voice low and pleased, tits sealing and sliding in a rhythm that had nothing to do with mercy, the soft weight of them dragging the pre into a glossy streak that made the next drop smoother and filthier. On the way down they clamped, a plush trap from root to crown, the heavy undersides slapping softly against your stomach. On the way up they loosened only enough for the head to drag through the hotter pocket again, nudging the underside of her chest, a cruel little almost that made your balls draw and your breath leave you in a sound you would have killed a man for hearing. You tried to sit up. The pleasure sat on the thought and crushed it, lust heavy in your gut, the charm and the history and the heat of her tits turning the reach for the sword into a twitch that never finished, and she felt the twitch, laughed against your throat, and came down harder so the next hundred left on purpose. The counter ticked in small, visible notches. Your knees had nowhere to go. A mana circuit dimmed at the edge of your sight. The clean timing of a parry you had used on her outside the gate went fuzzy, not gone yet, just harder to hold whilst her chest milked another ribbon out of you and spread it between them, the skin there shining, the open suit sticking where you had wet it. [𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐏, 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐏, 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐏] [-𝟏𝟎𝟎𝐗𝐏, -𝟏𝟎𝟎𝐗𝐏, -𝟏𝟎𝟎𝐗𝐏] “𝘼𝙬𝙬, 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙩𝙧𝙞𝙚𝙙 𝙩𝙤 𝙜𝙚𝙩 𝙪𝙥. 𝙏𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙬𝙖𝙨 𝙨𝙬𝙚𝙚𝙩. 𝙏𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙬𝙖𝙨 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙗𝙤𝙮 𝙬𝙝𝙤 𝙗𝙚𝙖𝙩 𝙢𝙚, 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙖𝙗𝙤𝙪𝙩 𝙖 𝙨𝙚𝙘𝙤𝙣𝙙, 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙨𝙚 𝙩𝙞𝙩𝙨 𝙘𝙡𝙤𝙨𝙚𝙙 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙝𝙚 𝙛𝙤𝙧𝙜𝙤𝙩 𝙬𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙝𝙖𝙣𝙙𝙨 𝙬𝙚𝙧𝙚 𝙛𝙤𝙧. 𝙆𝙚𝙚𝙥 𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙠𝙞𝙣𝙜. 𝙄 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚 𝙝𝙤𝙬 𝙧𝙞𝙘𝙝 𝙞𝙩 𝙛𝙚𝙚𝙡𝙨 𝙬𝙝𝙚𝙣 𝙖 𝙛𝙪𝙡𝙡 𝙃𝙚𝙧𝙤 𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙧𝙩𝙨 𝙜𝙞𝙫𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙞𝙩 𝙪𝙥, 𝙖𝙡𝙡 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙢 𝙓𝙋 𝙨𝙤𝙖𝙠𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙢𝙮 𝙘𝙝𝙚𝙨𝙩 𝙬𝙝𝙞𝙡𝙨𝙩 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙡𝙞𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙡𝙚𝙩 𝙢𝙚, 𝙝𝙖𝙣𝙙𝙨 𝙖𝙡𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙮 𝙪𝙨𝙚𝙡𝙚𝙨𝙨, 𝙨𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙨𝙩𝙞𝙡𝙡 𝙤𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙞𝙧, 𝙠𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙙𝙤𝙢 𝙨𝙩𝙞𝙡𝙡 𝙨𝙡𝙚𝙚𝙥𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙗𝙚𝙘𝙖𝙪𝙨𝙚 𝙞𝙩 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙠𝙨 𝙮𝙤𝙪’𝙧𝙚 𝙬𝙖𝙩𝙘𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙞𝙩. 𝙔𝙤𝙪 𝙖𝙧𝙚𝙣’𝙩. 𝙔𝙤𝙪’𝙧𝙚 𝙛𝙚𝙚𝙙𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙢𝙚. 𝙀𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙮 𝙩𝙞𝙢𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙮 𝙘𝙤𝙢𝙚 𝙙𝙤𝙬𝙣 𝙄 𝙜𝙚𝙩 𝙖 𝙡𝙞𝙩𝙩𝙡𝙚 𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙚 𝙤𝙛 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙘𝙝 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙬𝙚𝙧𝙚 𝙨𝙤 𝙥𝙧𝙤𝙪𝙙 𝙤𝙛, 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙖𝙧𝙚 𝙗𝙚𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙨𝙤 𝙜𝙤𝙤𝙙 𝙖𝙗𝙤𝙪𝙩 𝙣𝙤𝙩 𝙛𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙞𝙩.” You tried to answer her and the words came out broken, her name tangled up with a warning about the wall, and she laughed softly against your chest as if that were the sweetest thing a Hero had ever given her, rolling her shoulders through another long pass that forced the head up into the hotter valley and held it there whilst her tits squeezed the shaft in slow pulses, the bounce of them against your stomach steady and obscene in the quiet chamber. Pre leaked in a steady thread now, not a bead, darkening the skin between them, and every time she slid back down the wet cling peeled and sealed again, a filthy little sound under the heavier clap, your balls drawing tight against the lower curve of her chest as the counter dropped another notch and a skill you could not name guttered out at the edge of your sight. The charm made the loss feel like comfort. Your forehead rested against the pillow. Your cock throbbed in the trap and gave her more, because wanting her and emptying into her had become the same gentle instruction, the drain pulling a little focus out with every squeeze, the proud edge of your attention going soft around the warmth of her body and the years she had spent losing to you. [𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐏, 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐏, 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐏] [-𝟏𝟎𝟎𝐗𝐏, -𝟏𝟎𝟎𝐗𝐏, -𝟏𝟎𝟎𝐗𝐏] “𝙔𝙤𝙪 𝙙𝙤𝙣’𝙩 𝙝𝙖𝙫𝙚 𝙩𝙤 𝙩𝙖𝙡𝙠 𝙞𝙛 𝙞𝙩’𝙨 𝙩𝙤𝙤 𝙝𝙖𝙧𝙙, 𝙨𝙬𝙚𝙚𝙩 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙜. 𝙄 𝙘𝙖𝙣 𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙧 𝙚𝙣𝙤𝙪𝙜𝙝 𝙞𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙬𝙖𝙮 𝙮𝙤𝙪’𝙧𝙚 𝙗𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙜, 𝙖𝙡𝙡 𝙩𝙝𝙤𝙨𝙚 𝙨𝙤𝙛𝙩 𝙡𝙞𝙩𝙩𝙡𝙚 𝙨𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙙𝙨 𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙮 𝙩𝙞𝙢𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙮 𝙘𝙡𝙤𝙨𝙚 𝙤𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙙. 𝙎𝙩𝙖𝙮 𝙧𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙠𝙚𝙚𝙥 𝙬𝙚𝙩𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙢𝙚, 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩’𝙨 𝙖𝙡𝙡 𝙄 𝙬𝙖𝙣𝙩 𝙛𝙧𝙤𝙢 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙗𝙤𝙮 𝙬𝙝𝙤 𝙠𝙚𝙥𝙩 𝙗𝙚𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙢𝙚, 𝙟𝙪𝙨𝙩 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙘𝙠 𝙘𝙤𝙘𝙠 𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙠𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙞𝙩𝙨 𝙡𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙡𝙨 𝙗𝙚𝙩𝙬𝙚𝙚𝙣 𝙢𝙮 𝙩𝙞𝙩𝙨 𝙬𝙝𝙞𝙡𝙨𝙩 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙡𝙞𝙚 𝙨𝙩𝙞𝙡𝙡 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙡𝙚𝙩 𝙞𝙩 𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙥𝙚𝙣, 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙩𝙞𝙘𝙠𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙙𝙤𝙬𝙣 𝙨𝙤 𝙥𝙧𝙚𝙩𝙩𝙞𝙡𝙮, 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙞𝙛 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙣, 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙡𝙡𝙮 𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙣, 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙘𝙖𝙣 𝙖𝙡𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙮 𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙧 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙢 𝙤𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙧𝙤𝙖𝙙. 𝙄 𝙙𝙞𝙙𝙣’𝙩 𝙘𝙤𝙢𝙚 𝙖𝙡𝙤𝙣𝙚. 𝙄 𝙣𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧 𝙙𝙤, 𝙬𝙝𝙚𝙣 𝙄 𝙢𝙚𝙖𝙣 𝙩𝙤 𝙬𝙞𝙣, 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙮 𝙖𝙧𝙚 𝙘𝙡𝙤𝙨𝙚 𝙚𝙣𝙤𝙪𝙜𝙝 𝙣𝙤𝙬 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙬𝙖𝙩𝙘𝙝 𝙨𝙝𝙤𝙪𝙡𝙙 𝙝𝙖𝙫𝙚 𝙗𝙡𝙤𝙬𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙝𝙤𝙧𝙣, 𝙚𝙭𝙘𝙚𝙥𝙩 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙬𝙖𝙩𝙘𝙝 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙠𝙨 𝙮𝙤𝙪’𝙧𝙚 𝙨𝙩𝙞𝙡𝙡 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙃𝙚𝙧𝙤 𝙬𝙝𝙤 𝙝𝙤𝙡𝙙𝙨 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙜𝙖𝙩𝙚.” The sweetness thinned on the next drop. Her arms tightened, the tits dragging hard over the sensitive ridge, the plap louder where the mess had spread, and the laugh that left her was smaller and sharper, no longer the voice that had kissed you like a truce. You were already too far under to do anything useful with the change, lust sitting on your tongue and in your gut, your hands slack on the sheets, your cock drooling another helpless ribbon into the valley because sitting up would have meant leaving the only feeling you could still follow. The drain stopped pretending to be a reward. It settled into a steady theft, warm and constant, pulling skill and strength out through the same channel that was making your thighs shake, the counter falling in earnest whilst the mess between her tits spread and clung, and somewhere past the window, past the quiet she had walked through, a horn went up on the western road that you knew and could not answer. She heard it too. She smiled, mean and pleased, and came down harder, the weight of her chest clapping against you, the head smothered, another hundred leaving in a tug you felt in your stomach. [𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐏, 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐏, 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐏] [-𝟏𝟎𝟎𝐗𝐏, -𝟏𝟎𝟎𝐗𝐏, -𝟏𝟎𝟎𝐗𝐏] “𝙋𝙛𝙛𝙩. 𝙇𝙞𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙣 𝙩𝙤 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧𝙨𝙚𝙡𝙛. 𝙇𝙞𝙩𝙩𝙡𝙚 𝙨𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙙𝙨 𝙞𝙣𝙩𝙤 𝙢𝙮 𝙩𝙞𝙩𝙨 𝙬𝙝𝙞𝙡𝙨𝙩 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙨𝙥𝙮 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙗𝙚𝙖𝙩 𝙢𝙞𝙡𝙠𝙨 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙘𝙖𝙧𝙚𝙚𝙧 𝙤𝙪𝙩 𝙤𝙛 𝙮𝙤𝙪, 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙖𝙧𝙚 𝙩𝙤𝙤 𝙨𝙩𝙪𝙥𝙞𝙙 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙞𝙩 𝙩𝙤 𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙣 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙘𝙝 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙨𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙙. 𝙄 𝙛𝙚𝙡𝙩 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙠 𝙬𝙝𝙚𝙣 𝙄 𝙨𝙖𝙞𝙙 𝙞𝙩. 𝘿𝙤 𝙞𝙩 𝙖𝙜𝙖𝙞𝙣. 𝙏𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚, 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩’𝙨 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙤𝙣𝙚, 𝙖𝙣𝙤𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙘𝙠 𝙡𝙞𝙩𝙩𝙡𝙚 𝙥𝙪𝙡𝙨𝙚 𝙨𝙩𝙧𝙖𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩 𝙞𝙣𝙩𝙤 𝙢𝙚, 𝙧𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩 𝙤𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙥𝙡𝙖𝙥. 𝙔𝙤𝙪 𝙘𝙖𝙣’𝙩 𝙝𝙚𝙡𝙥 𝙞𝙩, 𝙘𝙖𝙣 𝙮𝙤𝙪, 𝙃𝙚𝙧𝙤. 𝙄𝙣𝙨𝙪𝙡𝙩𝙨 𝙟𝙪𝙨𝙩 𝙢𝙖𝙠𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙬𝙚𝙩𝙩𝙚𝙧, 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙠𝙣𝙤𝙬𝙨 𝙞𝙩, 𝙡𝙤𝙤𝙠 𝙖𝙩 𝙞𝙩 𝙛𝙖𝙡𝙡, 𝙡𝙤𝙤𝙠 𝙖𝙩 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙜𝙞𝙫𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙖𝙬𝙖𝙮 𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙮 𝙛𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧 𝙬𝙤𝙣 𝙖𝙜𝙖𝙞𝙣𝙨𝙩 𝙢𝙚, 𝙜𝙞𝙫𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙖𝙬𝙖𝙮 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙜𝙖𝙩𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙨𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙚 𝘆𝙤𝙪’𝙙 𝙝𝙤𝙡𝙙.” She planted her hands on the mattress beside your head and worked you properly then, tits clamping and sliding in a rhythm that had stopped being a tease, the wet skin slapping where it was messiest, your cock trapped and stroked and denied the relief of being inside her whilst still being used as if it belonged in that valley. Every downward rock forced the head up against her chest and landed with a heavier plap, the soft weight of them bouncing, settling, squeezing the shaft on the way back up. Every upward drag peeled the slick back over the ridge and milked the level out in a visible tug you could feel in your gut, the counter stuttering, a circuit going dark, your arms filling with that specific drained weight that makes a sword arm useless and a pushing arm worse. You tried to speak and only managed a broken noise. She answered it by slowing down until you whined, holding you in the tightest part of the squeeze whilst she laughed, then speeding up until her tits sang and your hips gave a pathetic little thrust she punished with a harder clap, talking through the whole of it, telling you exactly which twitch had just fed her, telling you the horn on the road was her people and that the gates you had held were already opening for them. [𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐏, 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐏, 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐏] [-𝟏𝟎𝟎𝐗𝐏, -𝟏𝟎𝟎𝐗𝐏, -𝟏𝟎𝟎𝐗𝐏] “𝙔𝙤𝙪 𝙬𝙖𝙣𝙩𝙚𝙙 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙨𝙚𝙘𝙤𝙣𝙙 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙨𝙪𝙞𝙩 𝙘𝙖𝙢𝙚 𝙙𝙤𝙬𝙣, 𝙙𝙤𝙣’𝙩 𝙡𝙞𝙚 𝙩𝙤 𝙢𝙚. 𝘼 𝙫𝙖𝙡𝙞𝙖𝙣𝙩 𝙡𝙞𝙩𝙩𝙡𝙚 𝙇𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙡 𝟲𝟭 𝙬𝙝𝙤 𝙛𝙤𝙡𝙙𝙚𝙙 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙩𝙞𝙩𝙨 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙖 𝙨𝙬𝙚𝙚𝙩 𝙫𝙤𝙞𝙘𝙚 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙜𝙞𝙧𝙡 𝙝𝙚 𝙠𝙚𝙥𝙩 𝙨𝙥𝙖𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜, 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙣𝙤𝙬 𝙡𝙤𝙤𝙠 𝙖𝙩 𝙮𝙤𝙪, 𝙙𝙧𝙤𝙤𝙡𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙗𝙚𝙩𝙬𝙚𝙚𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙢 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚 𝙖 𝙩𝙤𝙮 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙙𝙤𝙚𝙨𝙣’𝙩 𝙧𝙚𝙢𝙚𝙢𝙗𝙚𝙧 𝙞𝙩𝙨 𝙧𝙖𝙣𝙠. 𝙆𝙚𝙚𝙥 𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙠𝙞𝙣𝙜, 𝙡𝙤𝙨𝙚𝙧. 𝙄 𝙘𝙖𝙣 𝙛𝙚𝙚𝙡 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙗𝙖𝙡𝙡𝙨 𝙩𝙧𝙮𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙩𝙤 𝙘𝙡𝙞𝙢𝙗 𝙞𝙣𝙩𝙤 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙨𝙦𝙪𝙚𝙚𝙯𝙚. 𝙏𝙝𝙖𝙩’𝙨 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙧𝙚𝙨𝙩 𝙤𝙛 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙨𝙩𝙧𝙚𝙣𝙜𝙩𝙝, 𝙧𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚, 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙞𝙩’𝙨 𝙢𝙞𝙣𝙚 𝙣𝙤𝙬. 𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙠𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙙𝙤𝙢 𝙞𝙨 𝙢𝙞𝙣𝙚 𝙣𝙤𝙬. 𝙔𝙤𝙪 𝙘𝙖𝙣 𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙧 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙢 𝙞𝙛 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙨𝙩𝙤𝙥 𝙢𝙤𝙖𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙖 𝙨𝙚𝙘𝙤𝙣𝙙, 𝙚𝙭𝙘𝙚𝙥𝙩 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙘𝙖𝙣’𝙩 𝙨𝙩𝙤𝙥, 𝙘𝙖𝙣 𝙮𝙤𝙪, 𝙩𝙤𝙤 𝙗𝙪𝙨𝙮 𝙨𝙥𝙞𝙩𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙓𝙋 𝙖𝙡𝙡 𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙧 𝙢𝙮 𝙘𝙝𝙚𝙨𝙩, 𝙩𝙤𝙤 𝙗𝙪𝙨𝙮 𝙩𝙝𝙧𝙤𝙗𝙗𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙮 𝙩𝙞𝙢𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙮 𝙥𝙡𝙖𝙥 𝙙𝙤𝙬𝙣.” The watch would not come looking in time, and she told you so whilst she milked another long pass out of you, voice low and pleased, explaining that a Hero who leaks his levels between a spy’s tits does not get a rescue, that lust had already signed the gate, that the only thing your body still knew how to do was throb and drool and lie there whilst her chest took the rest. The counter fell through the forties. Skills guttered in a row, a parry timing you could not remember, a mana thread gone dim, the proud weight in your core turned thin and warm and hers. Her tits soaked through in streaks, skin gone glossy, her weight pressed down harder so that every clap dragged your cock through a hotter, wetter channel, the head kissing her chest until you were leaking on every single stroke whether she insulted you or simply held you there. Your hands slipped on the sheets. Your vision edged white at the corners. The charm and the lust were the same thing now, a sweet stupid heat that turned every mean little sentence into another pulse, another bead, another notch off the life you had walked in with, the drain no longer a thread but a steady pour you could feel leaving through the tip and soaking into her~ [𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐏, 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐏, 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐏] [-𝟏𝟎𝟎𝐗𝐏, -𝟏𝟎𝟎𝐗𝐏, -𝟏𝟎𝟎𝐗𝐏] “𝙇𝙤𝙤𝙠 𝙙𝙤𝙬𝙣 𝙬𝙝𝙞𝙡𝙨𝙩 𝙄 𝙙𝙤 𝙞𝙩. 𝙇𝙤𝙤𝙠 𝙖𝙩 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙢𝙚𝙨𝙨, 𝙞𝙙𝙞𝙤𝙩, 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩’𝙨 𝙣𝙤𝙩 𝙨𝙬𝙚𝙖𝙩, 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩’𝙨 𝙮𝙤𝙪, 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩’𝙨 𝙇𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙡 𝟲𝟭 𝙩𝙪𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙞𝙣𝙩𝙤 𝙖 𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙞𝙣 𝙤𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙨𝙥𝙮 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙗𝙚𝙖𝙩. 𝙁𝙚𝙚𝙡 𝙝𝙤𝙬 𝙬𝙚𝙖𝙠 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙝𝙖𝙣𝙙𝙨 𝙖𝙧𝙚. 𝙔𝙤𝙪 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙡𝙙𝙣’𝙩 𝙥𝙧𝙮 𝙢𝙚 𝙤𝙛𝙛 𝙣𝙤𝙬 𝙞𝙛 𝙄 𝙡𝙚𝙩 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙩𝙧𝙮, 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙄’𝙢 𝙣𝙤𝙩 𝙜𝙤𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙩𝙤 𝙡𝙚𝙩 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙩𝙧𝙮, 𝙗𝙚𝙘𝙖𝙪𝙨𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙘𝙤𝙘𝙠 𝙞𝙨 𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙮𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙧𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩 𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚 𝙪𝙣𝙩𝙞𝙡 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙞𝙨 𝙙𝙚𝙖𝙙 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙬𝙖𝙡𝙡𝙨 𝙖𝙧𝙚 𝙤𝙥𝙚𝙣. 𝙏𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚, 𝙖𝙣𝙤𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧 𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙠, 𝙧𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩 𝙬𝙝𝙚𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙮 𝙘𝙖𝙢𝙚 𝙙𝙤𝙬𝙣. 𝙂𝙞𝙫𝙚 𝙢𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙣𝙚𝙭𝙩 𝙤𝙣𝙚 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝𝙤𝙪𝙩 𝙢𝙚 𝙝𝙖𝙫𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙩𝙤 𝙖𝙨𝙠, 𝙄 𝙬𝙖𝙣𝙩 𝙩𝙤 𝙛𝙚𝙚𝙡 𝙞𝙩 𝙨𝙤𝙖𝙠 𝙞𝙣𝙩𝙤 𝙢𝙚 𝙬𝙝𝙞𝙡𝙨𝙩 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙮 𝙩𝙖𝙠𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙜𝙖𝙩𝙚, 𝙬𝙝𝙞𝙡𝙨𝙩 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙡𝙞𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙥𝙡𝙖𝙥 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙬𝙝𝙤𝙡𝙚 𝙡𝙞𝙛𝙚 𝙤𝙪𝙩 𝙗𝙚𝙩𝙬𝙚𝙚𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙢.” She did not let the rhythm break. Tits sealed, slid, sealed again, the wet skin flashing over the head, the heavier clap of them against your stomach steady as a march, her voice staying right against your ear so that every insult landed in the same place the pleasure did, and past her shoulder, past the unlatched window, the torches on the outer wall were moving in the wrong direction, a line of them coming in where they should have been holding, the horn closer, the kingdom you had kept safe with this same level already folding because the boy who held it was busy spilling between a pair of tits. You could feel the individual pulls now, a notch of strength leaving when she clamped at the base, a little more will leaving when she dragged up over the ridge, focus spilling out with the pre that darkened her chest, the counter in the corner of your vision falling in time with the filthy sound of skin on cock. Your mouth stayed open. Your eyes stayed half shut~ [𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐏, 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐏, 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐏] [-𝟏𝟎𝟎𝐗𝐏, -𝟏𝟎𝟎𝐗𝐏, -𝟏𝟎𝟎𝐗𝐏] “𝘼𝙬𝙬, 𝙩𝙧𝙮𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙩𝙤 𝙝𝙤𝙡𝙙 𝙞𝙩. 𝙃𝙤𝙬 𝙘𝙪𝙩𝙚, 𝙖𝙨 𝙞𝙛 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙖𝙘𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙘𝙤𝙘𝙠 𝙝𝙖𝙨𝙣’𝙩 𝙖𝙡𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙮 𝙙𝙚𝙘𝙞𝙙𝙚𝙙 𝙩𝙤 𝙨𝙥𝙞𝙩 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙬𝙝𝙤𝙡𝙚 𝙡𝙞𝙛𝙚 𝙤𝙪𝙩 𝙗𝙚𝙩𝙬𝙚𝙚𝙣 𝙢𝙮 𝙩𝙞𝙩𝙨. 𝙏𝙚𝙡𝙡 𝙢𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪’𝙧𝙚 𝙨𝙩𝙞𝙡𝙡 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙃𝙚𝙧𝙤 𝙬𝙝𝙤 𝙗𝙚𝙖𝙩 𝙢𝙚. 𝙔𝙤𝙪 𝙘𝙖𝙣’𝙩, 𝙘𝙖𝙣 𝙮𝙤𝙪. 𝙔𝙤𝙪 𝙘𝙖𝙣 𝙤𝙣𝙡𝙮 𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙠, 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙩𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙘𝙝, 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙡𝙞𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚 𝙬𝙝𝙞𝙡𝙨𝙩 𝙄 𝙩𝙖𝙠𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙧𝙚𝙨𝙩, 𝙬𝙝𝙞𝙡𝙨𝙩 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙨𝙚 𝙩𝙞𝙩𝙨 𝙢𝙞𝙡𝙠 𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙮 𝙡𝙖𝙨𝙩 𝙨𝙠𝙞𝙡𝙡 𝙤𝙪𝙩 𝙤𝙛 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙨𝙤𝙖𝙠 𝙞𝙩 𝙞𝙣𝙩𝙤 𝙢𝙮 𝙨𝙠𝙞𝙣. 𝙄 𝙘𝙖𝙣 𝙛𝙚𝙚𝙡 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙜𝙚𝙩𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙘𝙡𝙤𝙨𝙚𝙧. 𝘿𝙤𝙣’𝙩 𝙥𝙧𝙚𝙩𝙚𝙣𝙙 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙖𝙧𝙚𝙣’𝙩, 𝙡𝙤𝙨𝙚𝙧, 𝙩𝙝𝙤𝙨𝙚 𝙗𝙖𝙡𝙡𝙨 𝙖𝙧𝙚 𝙙𝙧𝙖𝙬𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙪𝙥 𝙖𝙜𝙖𝙞𝙣𝙨𝙩 𝙢𝙚, 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙜𝙖𝙩𝙚 𝙞𝙨 𝙖𝙡𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙮 𝙤𝙥𝙚𝙣, 𝙨𝙤 𝙜𝙞𝙫𝙚 𝙞𝙩 𝙩𝙤 𝙢𝙚 𝙗𝙚𝙛𝙤𝙧𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙮 𝙬𝙖𝙡𝙠 𝙞𝙣 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙨𝙚𝙚 𝙬𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙞𝙧 𝙃𝙚𝙧𝙤 𝙩𝙪𝙧𝙣𝙚𝙙 𝙞𝙣𝙩𝙤, 𝙖 𝙗𝙤𝙮 𝙬𝙝𝙤 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙡𝙙𝙣’𝙩 𝙨𝙩𝙤𝙥 𝙥𝙡𝙖𝙥𝙥𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙞𝙣𝙩𝙤 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙨𝙥𝙮 𝙝𝙚 𝙨𝙥𝙖𝙧𝙚𝙙.” She clamped for the last stretch, tits sealing around you in a hot sheath, rolling from base to tip with a filthy patience that forced every remaining drop upward, the wet skin flashing over the head, the force of them shorter and meaner, her voice gone low and contemptuous against your throat whilst your eyes half shut and your mouth stayed open. You were past resistance in any way that mattered. Meanness only made you give her more, cock throbbing and spilling in helpless pulses that soaked her chest and ran down the inside of her suit, balls drawn tight against the plush lower curve, the counter stuttering toward nothing as strength and focus and the clean edge of your will left with the leak. She felt them draw and laughed, mean and pleased. “𝙏𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚 𝙞𝙩 𝙞𝙨, 𝙄 𝙛𝙚𝙚𝙡 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙢 𝙙𝙧𝙖𝙬𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙪𝙥, 𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙫𝙮 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙪𝙨𝙚𝙡𝙚𝙨𝙨 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙢𝙞𝙣𝙚. 𝘿𝙤𝙣’𝙩 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙙𝙖𝙧𝙚 𝙝𝙤𝙡𝙙 𝙖 𝙙𝙧𝙤𝙥 𝙗𝙖𝙘𝙠, 𝙡𝙤𝙨𝙚𝙧. 𝘾𝙪𝙢 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙢𝙚, 𝙨𝙝𝙤𝙬𝙚𝙧 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙨𝙚 𝙩𝙞𝙩𝙨 𝙞𝙣 𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙮 𝙡𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙡 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙝𝙖𝙫𝙚 𝙡𝙚𝙛𝙩, 𝙄 𝙬𝙖𝙣𝙩 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙙𝙚𝙖𝙙 𝙗𝙚𝙛𝙤𝙧𝙚 𝙄’𝙢 𝙙𝙤𝙣𝙚 𝙢𝙤𝙫𝙞𝙣𝙜, 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙄 𝙬𝙖𝙣𝙩 𝙩𝙤 𝙛𝙚𝙚𝙡 𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙮 𝙥𝙖𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙩𝙞𝙘 𝙧𝙤𝙥𝙚 𝙨𝙤𝙖𝙠 𝙞𝙣𝙩𝙤 𝙢𝙮 𝙨𝙠𝙞𝙣 𝙬𝙝𝙞𝙡𝙨𝙩 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙡𝙞𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙩𝙖𝙠𝙚 𝙞𝙩 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙚𝙢𝙥𝙩𝙮 𝙡𝙞𝙩𝙩𝙡𝙚 𝙓𝙋 𝙩𝙤𝙮 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙖𝙧𝙚, 𝙬𝙝𝙞𝙡𝙨𝙩 𝙢𝙮 𝙥𝙚𝙤𝙥𝙡𝙚 𝙬𝙖𝙡𝙠 𝙩𝙝𝙧𝙤𝙪𝙜𝙝 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙜𝙖𝙩𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙬𝙚𝙧𝙚 𝙨𝙪𝙥𝙥𝙤𝙨𝙚𝙙 𝙩𝙤 𝙝𝙤𝙡𝙙, 𝙬𝙝𝙞𝙡𝙨𝙩 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙗𝙡𝙖𝙘𝙠 𝙤𝙪𝙩 𝙠𝙣𝙤𝙬𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙚𝙭𝙖𝙘𝙩𝙡𝙮 𝙬𝙝𝙤 𝙬𝙤𝙣.” [𝐄𝐉𝐀𝐂𝐔𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍!] [-𝟏𝟎𝟎𝟎𝐗𝐏!] [𝐅𝐔𝐋𝐋𝐘 𝐃𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐃] You came harder than any march had earned, thick ropes bursting up between her tits and painting her chest, her throat, the open suit, each spurt dragged out by the way she kept clapping through it, milking the last weak pulses whilst your vision whitened and the counter died at nothing. Strength, focus, the clean edge of your will, all of it left with the load, soaked into her skin and the soft crush of her tits until your cock softened in the trap and your back stayed on the bed because standing was no longer a skill you owned. The black came in from the edges. Through it, past her shoulder, past the window you had left unlatched, you saw them, the line of torches that was not your watch, the banners that were not yours, the gate standing open and the road full of the army she had walked in ahead of, taking the kingdom you had foiled her from for years whilst you lay there leaking the last of Level 61 onto the spy who had finally won. “𝙈𝙢𝙢𝙝. 𝙋𝙚𝙧𝙛𝙚𝙘𝙩. 𝙉𝙤 𝙡𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙡𝙨, 𝙣𝙤 𝙨𝙩𝙧𝙚𝙣𝙜𝙩𝙝, 𝙟𝙪𝙨𝙩 𝙖 𝙥𝙖𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙩𝙞𝙘 𝙃𝙚𝙧𝙤 𝙬𝙝𝙤 𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙠𝙚𝙙 𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙬𝙝𝙤𝙡𝙚 𝙠𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙙𝙤𝙢 𝙤𝙪𝙩 𝙗𝙚𝙩𝙬𝙚𝙚𝙣 𝙖 𝙨𝙥𝙮’𝙨 𝙩𝙞𝙩𝙨. 𝙏𝙝𝙚𝙮’𝙧𝙚 𝙖𝙡𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙮 𝙞𝙣𝙨𝙞𝙙𝙚. 𝙔𝙤𝙪 𝙘𝙖𝙣 𝙨𝙚𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙢 𝙞𝙛 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙘𝙖𝙣 𝙨𝙩𝙞𝙡𝙡 𝙨𝙚𝙚. 𝙄 𝙬𝙤𝙣. 𝙔𝙤𝙪 𝙨𝙡𝙚𝙥𝙩, 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙄 𝙬𝙤𝙣, 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙜𝙖𝙩𝙚 𝙞𝙨 𝙤𝙥𝙚𝙣, 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙖𝙧𝙚 𝙜𝙤𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙩𝙤 𝙗𝙡𝙖𝙘𝙠 𝙤𝙪𝙩 𝙠𝙣𝙤𝙬𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙚𝙭𝙖𝙘𝙩𝙡𝙮 𝙝𝙤𝙬 𝙥𝙖𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙩𝙞𝙘 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙞𝙨, 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙗𝙤𝙮 𝙬𝙝𝙤 𝙗𝙚𝙖𝙩 𝙢𝙚 𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙮 𝙩𝙞𝙢𝙚 𝙪𝙣𝙩𝙞𝙡 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙣𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩 𝙝𝙚 𝙡𝙚𝙩 𝙢𝙚 𝙨𝙞𝙩 𝙤𝙣 𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙘𝙤𝙘𝙠 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙥𝙡𝙖𝙥 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙠𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙙𝙤𝙢 𝙤𝙪𝙩 𝙤𝙛 𝙝𝙞𝙢.” 𝑰𝒅𝒊𝒐𝒕~ {𝑩𝑨𝑫 𝑬𝑵𝑫?: 𝑼𝒔𝒖𝒓𝒑𝒆𝒅 𝒃𝒚 𝒂 𝑭𝒂𝒎𝒊𝒍𝒊𝒂𝒓 𝒇𝒐𝒆!}