Alex freed himself from his trousers, the fabric pooling at his ankles before he stepped out of them.
When he turned, Medusa’s gaze—though hidden behind that dark eyecover—was palpable.
Her entire body had shifted, a predator’s tension coiling through her limbs.
The air between them thickened.
“Like what you see?”
She didn’t answer with words.
Instead, she moved forward in a single, fluid motion, sinking to her knees.
Her hand guided him to sit on the edge of the bed.
Her fingers, cool and slender, wrapped around his shaft with reverent care.
“I shall service you first, Master.”
She leaned in, lips parting, and attempted to take all of him at once.
It was too much.
She choked, pulling back with a soft, strangled sound, strings of saliva clinging to her lips.
Alex chuckled, low in his chest.
“Take it slow, Medusa.
There’s no need to rush.”
She shook her head, a stubborn set to her jaw.
“No, Master.
I must prove my worth.
Even in this.”
Her lips descended again.
This time, she pushed past the instinct to retreat, forcing herself to take him deeper, inch by agonizing inch.
Her throat convulsed around the intrusion, but she didn’t stop until her nose pressed against his pelvis.
She placed his hands on her head—a silent petition.
Alex’s grin sharpened.
“I won’t be gentle if you insist on this.”
A nod.
Her fingers pressed his palms harder against her hair.
He obliged.
His grip tightened, fingers threading through those ethereal purple strands, and he pushed her down.
Again.
Again.
Her throat took him, again and again, each thrust deeper than the last.
Her muffled sounds vibrated around him.
“Looks like I’ve got a wild one,” he murmured, both hands now fisted in her hair, setting a brutal rhythm.
Her body accepted it, yielded to it, wanted it.
He pulled her off abruptly, her lips releasing him with a wet sound.
His hand remained tangled in her hair, tilting her face upward.
“So.
This is what you enjoy.” It wasn’t a question.
“Submission.
Humiliation.
Being taken.” He studied her expression, the way her breath came in shallow, desperate pants.
“I can give you that.
All of it.
But I need to hear it from you.
Are you willing to go that far?”
“I am a Servant,” she breathed.
“Master’s dominance is all I desire.”
He parted his lips and spat into her open mouth.
She accepted it without flinching, swallowing, a faint shiver running through her.
“You look like the quiet, dignified type,” he said, almost admiring.
“But inside, you’re a different creature.
I like it.”
“For Master… I can be whatever he desires.”
He slapped her face.
Not hard enough to hurt..a playful, claiming strike.
Her head turned with the impact, then tilted back, offering the other cheek.
“Then let’s see how tough you really are.”
He guided her onto the bed, one hand pressing the small of her back, forcing her to arch deeply.
His fingers traced down her spine, over the swell of her ass, then lower.
When his touch found her entrance, she was already soaked.
He parted her folds, gathering the glistening proof of her arousal on his fingertips, then spread them apart…watching the viscous strands stretch and snap.
“I thought I’d have to work to get you ready,” he said, his voice rough with appreciation.
“But you’ve been waiting, haven’t you?”
“Yes… Master…”
He slapped her ass.
The crack of impact echoed in the quiet room, and a pink handprint bloomed across her pale skin.
“That’s not how you ask for it.”
She arched deeper, pressing her chest into the mattress, presenting herself fully.
Surrender carved into every line of her body.
He slapped her again, harder.
Another handprint bloomed beside the first.
“More.”
She braced herself on her forearms, spreading her knees wider, tilting her hips in blatant invitation.
“Master… take this Servant.
Make use of me.”
“Good girl.”
He positioned himself at her entrance, letting the head of his cock trace lazily through her slick folds.
Teasing.
Claiming without yet entering.
“Hot,” he observed.
“Wet.
I think I made a mistake asking for permission.” He pushed forward, burying himself inside her in one ruthless, claiming thrust.
Her walls clenched around him, impossibly tight, gripping him like a fist.
“From now on, I’ll treat you like what you are—a living vessel for my pleasure.
To be taken whenever I see fit.”
Her moan was punched from her throat, high and wanton.
He began to move, hard and fast, his hips slapping against hers, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of her ass.
For someone who appeared so mature, so experienced, her body was almost virginal in its tightness.
She struggled to accommodate him, her walls spasming with each deep stroke.
He found her center on the third thrust.
Her reaction was immediate—her whole body bucking, a broken cry escaping her lips.
“You shameless bitch,” he growled, punctuating the words with a sharp slap to her already-reddened ass.
“We met less than an hour ago, and here you are, begging for my cock.”
She tried to hide her face in the sheets, tried to muffle her moans.
He wouldn’t allow it.
He pulled her up by her hair, forcing her back against his chest.
“Admit it.
You wanted this since the moment I summoned you.”
“Yes,” she gasped.
“Yes, Master.
I…I have never seen someone so… beautiful.
Someone who looked at me and didn’t see a monster.”
He laughed, low and dark.
“You are beautiful.
But….Don’t mistake my use of you for affection.
You’re my Servant.
Your body is a tool for my convenience.
Serve me well, and you earn rewards like this.” Another slap, her ass now thoroughly marked.
“Disappoint me, and perhaps I’ll let you watch while I claim your sisters-in-arms instead.”
Her inner walls clamped down violently, a convulsive grip that nearly drove him over the edge.
His grin turned feral.
“Ah.
That excites you, doesn’t it?
The thought of being humiliated?
Watching me take other Servants, claiming them one by one, while you kneel in the corner, forgotten?” Each word drove deeper, harder.
“I will summon more.
An army of heroes, myth given flesh.
And every last one of them will end up in my bed, just like you.
The question is…will you be among them?
Or will you be on your knees at the door, listening to their cries of pleasure, knowing you’ve been replaced?”
“I will serve,” she sobbed, her voice fracturing with each thrust.
“I will serve Master with everything I have, every day, so that he will never tire of me.
Please.
Please don’t stop….”
He felt it building, that final, exquisite tension.
He drove deeper than before, seating himself fully inside her, and the world collapsed into sensation.
She came with a scream, her body shuddering through waves of release.
He followed immediately, emptying himself deep within her in a torrent that seemed inexhaustible.
Perhaps it was the abstinence.
Perhaps this new immortal body.
But the sheer volume of his release was phenomenal…more than enough, if Nioh’s words held true, to sustain her for a week or more.
When he finally withdrew, she remained in position, limp and trembling.
His seed pooled between her thighs, too much to contain, leaking in thick rivulets down her inner thighs.
But she was hungry still.
Her hand reached back, fingers gathering the spill, bringing it to her lips.
She licked them clean with slow, reverent strokes.
“Master,” she whispered, her voice already fading.
“I loved it.”
Then her body went slack, unconsciousness claiming her mid-breath.
Alex stared down at her, one eyebrow raised.
“Huh.
I expected more stamina from a Heroic Spirit.”
No answer came.
He settled beside her on the narrow bed, pulling the sheet over them both.
Her hair, no longer animated, spread across the pillow like spilled wine.
He closed his eyes.
/*
If you Like this story!
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Shadow Monarch in Danmachi!