Linda gulped.
Again.
Because who wouldn't when her fantasy was right in front of her and telling her to lock the door...
Linda stepped back, her boots clicking softly on the hardwood.
She reached for the heavy iron bolt, the metal cold and gritty under her fingertips. As the latch slid home with a definitive, metallic thunk, the silence of the office suddenly felt suffocating. Linda stood there for a moment, her chest heaving, the scent of Lyra’s perfume mixing with the lingering, metallic tang of the Skrat blood still drying on her gear. She felt a sudden, hot pulse of blood rush south, her eight-inch cock thickening and straining against the fabric of her trousers, pressing hard against the seam.
The Aelvyn turned around slowly, her eyes involuntarily dropping to where Lyra sat perched on the mahogany desk.
The Ardel woman had shifted, leaning back on her palms, which caused her breasts to heave upward, the fabric of her professional blouse straining so tight it looked like the buttons were fighting for their lives. From this angle, Linda could see the slight sheen of sweat on Lyra's porcelain skin and the way her long, stocking-clad legs shifted, the nylon rubbing together with a soft, suggestive hiss.
The sight was overwhelming, and Linda felt a bead of sweat roll down her temple, her mind racing with a mix of terror and an intense, humming arousal.
Lyra didn't move, but her purple eyes tracked the visible bulge in Linda's pants with a slow, calculated curiosity. A small, knowing smile tugged at the corner of her lips, one that didn't reach the predatory sharpness of her gaze. She leaned forward, the movement causing her bust to dip, the heavy weight of her boobs swaying slightly. The office siren glasses slid a fraction of an inch down her nose, revealing a gaze that felt like it was peeling back every one of Linda's insecurities, reading her like one of the ledgers she spent her days cataloging.
"Now," Lyra murmured, her voice dropping an octave into a commanding purr that made Linda's knees feel like wet paper. "Let's discuss the particulars of your performance today, shall we?"
The Ardel woman didn't move to stand, instead spreading her legs slightly, the posture deliberate and open, inviting Linda to step closer into the orbit of her scent and authority.
Linda took a single, tentative step forward, the leather of her boots creaking.
"W-what... what particulars?" Linda stuttered, her voice barely a whisper and cracking under the weight of her own nerves.
Lyra let out a soft, humming sound of disapproval.
"You did well, Linda, but 'well' is a dangerous place to settle," Lyra said, her eyes never leaving Linda's. "You were reckless. You nearly became a corpse for a few trophies and a bit of gold. Neither I, nor Izze, nor... Imani wish to see such a waste of potential. You, puppy, require... rigorous training."
The Aelvyn let out a small, pathetic squeak, her brain short-circuiting.
The word puppy hit her like a physical blow, sending a jolt of electricity straight to her groin. She was staring at just all of Lyra, her mind spinning in a dizzying loop of oh god, she's so hot and she's going to fire me.
Then, the name registered.
The fog of arousal cleared just enough for Linda to blink, her confusion momentarily overriding her lust.
"W- Wait... Wait a minute here! How do you know about I- I- Imani?" Linda squeaked out, her brain thinking back to the wonderful woman she spent a night and the morning with.
Lyra let out a soft huff at that, one perfectly arched eyebrow rising, her gaze drifting toward Linda with a mix of amusement and possessive superiority.
"Please, Linda. Do not mistake my professional distance for ignorance," Lyra responded. "I have known the men, women, and non-binary of the Velvet Reed far longer than you have known which end of a sword to hold. Imani and I share... confidences… that would make your shy little heart stop beating entirely."
The Aelvyn felt the air leave her lungs.
The realization that Lyra and Imani moved in the same circles - and likely the same sheets - sent a fresh wave of heat crashing through her. She shifted her weight, the leather of her armor creaking, her mind whirling. It made sense - in a terrifying sort of way - she’d only been in Brennale for a few months, and her social circle was a fragile thing.
But the nickname - puppy - was the part that really threw her.
Linda thought Lyra was a woman of rigid schedules, cold ink, and sharp directives.
The Ardel woman didn't do nicknames.
She didn't do intimacy.
She barely did breathing if it didn't serve the guild's efficiency.
"W- why the nickname, though?" Linda whined with a stumble, the sound stumbling out of her throat as she took an involuntary step closer. "You're always so... formal. I didn't think you were the type for... for that sort of thing."
Lyra smiled at that, a small one, one that reminded Linda of Theodore.
"Because you are so very much like a puppy. Eager and wanting. And... formalities are for the lobby, Linda. In here, the rules are whatever I decide they are," Lyra murmured. She shifted her position on the mahogany desk, her long legs parting just enough to give Linda a glimpse of the dark lace clinging to deeper places. Slowly, with a deliberate grace that felt like a physical weight, Lyra raised her hand and crooked a single finger. "Come closer. Now."
Linda moved like she was walking through a dream, her boots clicking on the floor until she was inches away. The scent of Lyra’s perfume filled her lungs, mixing with the heat radiating from the woman’s body. Her breath hitched, her gaze fixed on the rise and fall of Lyra’s large boobs, her body, her eyes...
"What... what now?" Linda whispered, her voice trembling in anticipation.
Anticipation of what? Linda didn't know, but she hoped it was the fun kind.
She hoped it was the office yuri kind...
The Aelvyn really needed this after the day she had.
She really really did.
Lyra’s gaze dropped from Linda’s wide, green eyes to the trembling state of her trousers.
A low, vibration of a laugh escaped the Ardel woman’s throat, a sound that felt like it was vibrating inside Linda's own ribcage.
"Sit," Lyra commanded, the word clipped and absolute.
The Aevyn didn’t even think.
The instinct to obey was instantaneous, a primal surge that overrode every lingering shred of her social anxiety. She collapsed forward, her boots skidding on the polished hardwood as she hit her knees with a heavy thud. Her shortsword clattered against the floor, and the bow on her back shifted, the leather strap digging into her shoulder, but she didn't care. She stayed there, breathless and hovering, her chest heaving as she looked up at the towering woman. From this angle, the view was devastating and Lyra looked like a goddess of bureaucracy, her long, legs framing Linda’s vision.
"Good girl," Lyra purred. With a slow, deliberate movement, Lyra extended one long leg toward the Aelvyn, the movement causing the mahogany desk to creak under her shift again. The sharp point of a heel hovered just inches from Linda’s nose, the scent of expensive leather and warm skin filling the air. "Take them off. The shoe, and the stocking. Slowly."
Linda’s hands trembled as she reached out, her fingers grazing the smooth, cool nylon of the stocking. She gripped the heel of the shoe, her touch reverent, almost holy, as she carefully slid the shoe off and set it aside with a soft click. Then, her fingertips hooked into the elastic band of the stocking. As she slowly peeled the sheer black fabric down, the friction created a soft, rhythmic hiss that echoed in the silent office. She could feel the heat radiating from Lyra’s calf, the skin beneath the nylon flawless and pale, and the sight of the woman’s toes curling in anticipation made Linda’s own heart hammer against her ribs.
"A- And now?" Linda asked, her voice hitching and stuttering.
Lyra didn't answer with words. Instead, she slowly licked her lips, the tip of her tongue tracing the curve of her lower lip in a deliberate, predatory motion. With a subtle shift of her hips, she extended her other leg, the nylon stocking sliding against the mahogany with a suggestive, rhythmic friction. The gesture was an invitation and a command wrapped into one.
Linda didn't hesitate again.
Why would she?
The Aelvyn leaned in, her breath warm against Lyra's skin as she gripped the second heel. She peeled the shoe away and then began the slow, agonizing process of sliding the sheer black fabric down the length of that towering calf. The contrast of the dark nylon against Lyra's pale, flawless skin was dizzying, and as Linda’s fingertips brushed the sensitive arch of the woman's foot, she felt a shudder run through Lyra's entire frame.
Linda’s focus was absolute, her shy nature replaced by a desperate, humming need to please.
And when her work was done?
Lyra's pupils were dilated and the woman was breathing heavier, her large boobs heaving under the effort.
The Aelvyn felt a surge of boldness, her fingers still tingling from the touch of Lyra's pale skin.
"What next?" Linda asked, her voice stronger, the eagerness overriding her usual hesitation.
She looked up at Lyra with wide, hopeful eyes, her mind racing with the possibilities of what this professional distance had truly been hiding.
Lyra’s response was a low, throaty hum that vibrated through the air.
"Worship at the foot of your altar, puppy," Lyra commanded.
The words were barely a whisper, but they carried the weight of a divine decree. Lyra shifted on the mahogany desk, sliding her bare foot forward with a slow, agonizing precision. She didn't just touch Linda, but pressed her heel firmly into the center of the Aelvyn's straining crotch, grinding the arch of her foot against the thickening length of Linda's cock. The friction was electric, the warm, soft skin of Lyra’s sole crushing against the coarse fabric of the trousers. Linda let out a strangled gasp, her back arching as she felt the deliberate, rhythmic pressure, her breath coming in short, ragged bursts that clouded the space between them.
"Oooooh... oh goodness," Linda squeaked, her voice cracking as she squeezed her eyes shut.
The sensation was overwhelming, a focused, crushing heat that made her toes curl inside her boots. Above her, Lyra remained unnervingly composed, her expression one of clinical concentration. She looked less like a lover and more like a scholar analyzing a specimen, her purple eyes tracking the way Linda’s hips involuntarily jerked upward, chasing the pressure of the foot. Lyra’s toes flexed, gripping the bulge of Linda's trousers with a possessive strength that threatened to leave the Aelvyn undone...
...but then the Ardel woman pulled back.
Leaving Linda throbbing.
Lyra leaned back, a predatory glint flashing behind her glasses as she surveyed the trembling Aelvyn.
"You're going to be so much fun, aren't you, Linda?" Lyra murmured, her voice a low and full of lust.
Driven by a hunger she didn't know she possessed, Linda surged forward, wrapping her arms around Lyra’s long, pale leg. She clung to the woman like a lifeline, pressing her face against the soft skin of her calf, her breath hot and ragged against the porcelain surface.
The Aelvyn began to worship the limb with a feverish intensity, her lips trailing wet, sloppy kisses from the ankle upward. She groaned into the skin, her tongue darting out to lap at the curve of Lyra's calf, tasting the faint salt of sweat and expensive lotion. She was relentless, her kisses becoming deep, suctioning pulls that left blooming red marks on the pale flesh.
The Ardel woman’s composure finally fractured a bit - her head tilting back - and she bit her bottom lip hard, a sharp intake of breath escaping her as she felt the wet, warm slide of Linda’s tongue tracing the sensitive dip of her ankle.
Linda pulled back just enough to look up, her face flushed a deep crimson and her eyes wide with a mix of adoration and desperate need.
"You're... you're just perfect," she whispered, her voice trembling, the words barely escaping her lips before they were swallowed by the heavy silence of the office.
Lyra’s eyes darkened, the purple depths swirling with an intensity that made Linda feel like she was being disassembled.
A low, guttural sound escaped the woman's throat, a noise that was less a hum and more a growl of impatience.
"Enough," Lyra commanded, her voice cracking with a raw, jagged edge. "The foreplay is tedious, and my patience is thin. Strip, puppy. Everything. Now."
The command hit Linda like a physical shock, triggering a frantic, desperate urgency. With trembling fingers, she scrambled to unbuckle the leather straps of her gear, the shortsword clattering loudly against the hardwood floor beside her. She shrugged off the bow and the heavy quiver of arrows, her movements clumsy and rushed as she fought with the laces of her leather armor. As the restrictive gear fell away in a heap, Linda’s breath came in shallow, jagged gasps. Finally, she reached for the waistband of her undergarments and tugged them down. With a wet, visceral slap, her eight-inch cock sprang free, throbbing and rigid, the head glistening with a bead of pre-cum that caught the dim light of the office.
Standing there completely naked, Linda felt a wave of vulnerability crash over her, her tan, curvy and toned body shivering despite the warmth of the room. She felt exposed, her chest heaving from the effort of hastily removing her clothes and yet the sight of Lyra’s dilated pupils told her the administrator was enjoying the view. Lyra’s gaze traveled slowly down Linda’s form, lingering on the heavy, pulsing length of her member and the weight of her balls, before snapping back up to Linda's wide, emerald eyes.
The contrast was stark...
The meticulously dressed, powerful woman atop the desk...
...and the raw, trembling Aelvyn standing before her.
The Aelvyn shifted her weight, her tan skin flushing a deeper shade of crimson as she looked at the Ardel woman who held her entire career - and currently her sanity - in her hands.
"Am... am I to your liking, Miss Ashcroft?" Linda whispered, her voice small and fragile, yet laced with a desperate need for validation.
Lyra shivered at the words.
"To my liking, indeed, puppy..." Lyra purred, her purple eyes looking at Linda's face. "Silver hair like moonlight... a face perfectly sculpted... warm skin like sunlit sand..." Her gaze drifted downward, lingering on the swell of Linda's boobs. "Large breasts that invite a touch..." Her gaze continued to drift down to her abs, eyeing the hardness born from sweat and work. "Abdominal muscles that speak of discipline and strength..." And then Ardel woman's gaze drifted even further, eyeing Linda's cock, "And... this... a most unexpected surprise. A gorgeous, thick piece of meat... and those balls..." Lyra exhaled, biting her finger sensually, her eyes widening with a mixture of desire and amusement as she looked at the Aelvyn's bobbing erection.
Linda felt a surge of pride bloom in her chest, a heat that had nothing to do with embarrassment.
She straightened her spine, her chest puffing out as she looked Lyra in the eye.
"Imani seemed to like it a lot," Linda whispered, a small, playful smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "She liked it over and over and over..."
The Ardel let out a low, throaty chuckle, her purple eyes shimmering behind those silver-rimmed glasses.
"Oh, she did more than like it. She sang your praises. Told me all about the relentless, hungry little beast you become once you're stripped of that shy exterior." Lyra replied, her gaze locked onto Linda’s pulsing length, her voice dropping to a predatory velvet. "She described the way you work a woman’s body... How you use that thick, throbbing piece of meat to stretch her open, filling her until she can’t breathe, the way you drive yourself deep into her guts until she’s screaming for mercy. She said you have a stamina that’s almost obscene. Is that true?"
Linda felt a heat bloom in her chest, her face flushing a deep crimson as she looked up at the imposing woman.
"I... I think you could find out for yourself, Miss Ashcroft," Linda said.
Lyra’s lips curled into a sharp, hungry smile.
She didn't move, remaining perched on the edge of her desk, her legs splayed just enough to be provocative.
"Oh, I intend to find out everything. Every twitch, every moan, every drop of seed you can produce. But first..." Lyra responded. "I want the puppy’s submission. I want you on your knees, trembling and obedient, proving that you can follow my orders before I allow you to touch a single inch of me. I want to see you begging for the privilege of pleasing me."
Linda didn't need a second invitation.
The Aelvyn sank to the floor, her knees hitting the polished wood with a soft thud, her silver hair spilling over her tan shoulders.
"I... I've wanted this privilege since the first moment I saw you," Linda stuttered, her voice thick with a mixture of terror and arousal. "I want to... I want to taste you. Please."
Lyra let out a puff of air through her nostrils, the words egging her on.
Slowly, she shifted her position, widening her long, sculpted legs. The movement pulled the fabric of her professional skirt taut before it parted, granting Linda a direct, unobstructed view up the dark interior of the garment. There, framing the soft curve of her thighs, was a glimpse of sheer, intricate black lace that clung to her skin like a spiderweb.
"Don't just stare," Lyra commanded, her voice a sharp contrast to the inviting sight of her lingerie. "Use those trembling hands. Move my skirt. Slowly. I want to feel every millimeter of your clumsy fingers brushing against my skin."
Linda leaned forward, her breath hitching as she reached for the hem. Her fingertips grazed the cool, expensive fabric, then transitioned to the scorching heat of Lyra’s thighs. With a shaky, rhythmic precision, Linda began to peel the garment upward, her eyes locked on the way the lace panties strained against the Ardel woman's mature, womanly curves.
Oh....
Oh, this is sooooooo hot..., Linda thought, the office fantasy making her rock solid.
Lyra leaned back and looked down at the Aelvyn with a gaze that could strip paint.
"Hands away, puppy," Lyra commanded, her voice a low, vibrating authority. "I didn't tell you to use your fingers. Use your mouth. Grip the lace with your teeth and pull these wretched things off me. Slowly again. I want to feel every desperate tug of your lips against my skin."
Linda obeyed.
The Aelvyn leaned in, the scent of expensive perfume and feminine musk filling her senses as she opened her mouth. She felt the delicate, rough texture of the black lace against her teeth, grazing the sensitive skin of Lyra's thigh. With a careful, rhythmic tug, she began to pull the fabric downward. Each movement was agonizingly slow, her lips occasionally brushing against the damp heat of Lyra's core, tasting the salt and musk of the woman’s arousal. The fabric resisted slightly, clinging to the curves of her hips, until with one final, wet tug, the lace slid free, leaving Lyra completely exposed to the cool air of the office.
Linda paused, her breath hitching as she looked upward. Her eyes widened, landing on the sight of Lyra’s soaking wet, hairless pussy, the flesh plump and glistening with a heavy, translucent sheen of arousal. The sight was visceral - the deep, pulsing pink of the inner folds glistening under the dim office light, dripping with a thick, honey-like cream that coated the smooth skin.
"Wow," Linda whispered, her voice a fragile thread of awe.
Lyra’s eyes darkened, her fingers digging into the edge of the mahogany desk as she arched her back, presenting her soaking center to the Aelvyn.
"Less talking, more working," Lyra said. "Lick it. Be a good puppy and lick."
Linda obeyed readily.
She leaned in, her tongue darting out to swipe a long, wet streak from the base of Lyra's perineum upward. The taste was an intoxicating blend of salt and heavy, concentrated musk, thick enough to coat her tongue in a slick, creamy film. Linda groaned into the flesh, her tongue widening to lap at the pulsing folds, savoring the way the translucent juices bubbled and popped against her lips. She focused on the center, swirling her tongue in slow, deliberate circles around the swollen, engorged nub of Lyra's clitoris, drinking in the overflow of the woman's arousal.
The composure Lyra had spent years cultivating as Garviss's right hand shattered in an instant. As Linda’s tongue flicked sharply against the sensitive peak, Lyra’s hips bucked forward, her back arching violently. A ragged, guttural moan ripped from her throat, echoing through the quiet office and sounding more like a plea than a command.
"You taste... you taste so good," Linda mumbled against the slick, hot flesh, her voice muffled by the thick cream of Lyra's arousal.
The Ardel woman’s patience snapped.
She reached down, her manicured fingers locking into Linda’s silver hair with a bruising grip. With a sudden, powerful shove, she slammed Linda’s face forward, burying the Aelvyn's nose and mouth deep into her soaking center.
"Shut up and eat, puppy!" Lyra commanded, her voice trembling with a mixture of authority and desperation.
Lyra ground her pelvis against Linda’s face with bruising force, forcing the Aelvyn to inhale the pungent, wet scent of her desire as the thick, honeyed juices bubbled and popped against Linda's skin.
Linda’s nose pressed deep into the cleft, the bridge of her nose flattening against Lyra's clitoris as she sucked and lapped with a desperate hunger. The taste was sharp and salt-heavy, a visceral flood of womanhood that coated the Aelvyn's tongue and filled her mouth. Lyra’s thighs clamped tight around Linda’s head - her sensitive ears pushed against the woman's flesh - locking her into place as the Ardel woman’s hips moved in a frantic, rhythmic grind, pushing her soaked heat deeper into Linda's nostrils and lips.
"Twelve take me!" Lyra gasped, her voice cracking. "You're... you're far too good at this..."
Linda didn't stop to answer with words. Instead, she let out a low, vibrating hum against Lyra's sensitive flesh, the sound traveling through her throat and directly into the woman's soaking center.
Soooooo good, Linda thought, heady from all that was Lyra Ashcroft.
The Aelvyn was indeed worshipping at this older woman's altar.
Linda shifted her weight, sliding her body upward until she was eye-to-eye with Lyra. The administrative poise was gone; Lyra’s silver-rimmed glasses had skewed sideways on her face, and her porcelain skin was flushed a deep, frantic crimson.
The Aelvyn stared right at the Ardel woman as she became more methodical, her wet tongue going side to side as Lyra continued humping her face, but also started to fumble with her blouse. The woman used her other hand, frantic, and ripped her blouse open. The buttons went flying in every which direction and Linda was gifted the view of Lyra's large pale boobs confined in a bra that matched her panties. Although that didn't last long, the woman ripping the lace bra from her body, freeing herself, and immediately went to a nipple. They bounced lewdly with the force of being freed and Linda thought they rivaled Imani's and Vael's.
"Keep- Keep going, puppyyyyy...!" Lyra squeaked, her face screwing up as she pinched her nipple.
Linda could eat Lyra out forever, but she wanted to see this woman orgasm.
As Lyra continued to pinch and roll her own nipple, her breath hitching in sharp, jagged gasps, The Aelvyn decided it was to not only use her tongue. Her hand creeped up from the floor, bypassing her hard and bobbing cock, and slid firmly between Lyra's thighs. Two fingers plunged deep into the woman's slick, drenched heat, finding the precise rhythm that sent a jolt of electricity through Lyra's frame. Simultaneously, Linda locked her lips over Lyra's clitoris, sucking with a vacuum-like intensity that drew a strangled, high-pitched scream from the administrator.
Lyra’s back arched violently, her hips bucking against Linda’s face in a desperate attempt to find more friction.
A wet, rhythmic squelching of fingers sliding through lubrication resounded through the space and the Ardel woman’s toes curled tight at the sudden spine-tingling pleasure.
"Oh gods, yes... YES! Right there! Don't stop, you- you... just- fuck!" Lyra gasped as Linda drove deep.
Linda didn't relent, her tongue swirling in a relentless, wet rhythm that kept Lyra pinned to the peak of her arousal. She maintained the vacuum-like suction, swirling her tongue around the clitoris before pulling back slightly to flicker against the sensitive peak, all while her fingers worked deeper. Every time Lyra tried to arch away from the intensity, Linda’s hand tightened around her thigh, anchoring her in place and forcing her to endure every electric jolt of pleasure.
"I'm- oh gods, oh- by Vessandra!!! I'm almost... I'm right there, Linda, pleeeeeease, I'm s- so close—!" Lyra babbled, her voice a wrecked version of her usual commanding tone.
Just as Lyra let out a broken, needy moan, Linda leaned in and nipped sharply, catching the swollen nub of her clitoris between her teeth in one precise, sudden pinch.
The shock sent a violent surge of electricity through the Ardel woman’s entire frame. She let out a sharp, piercing scream that echoed through the room, her back arching into a taut bow as her pelvic muscles clamped down hard around Linda’s fingers and her thighs squeezed Linda's head. The orgasm hit her like a physical blow, a cascading wave of heat that left her sobbing for air, her body shuddering in the aftershock of a release so intense it felt like she had been dismantled and put back together.
As the peak plateaued and Linda continued to work Lyra through her orgasm, the sensation shifted from exquisite pleasure to an almost unbearable, raw sensitivity.
Lyra’s eyes flew open, pupils blown wide.
"T- Too much! It's- oh g- g- gods, it's too mu- much!" Lyra got out, her voice strangled and raw.
With a sudden, frantic movement, she unwrapped her long, trembling legs from around Linda’s head and shoved the Aelvyn backward. The push was desperate and uncoordinated, sending Linda away from her body, leaving the Lyra gasping and twitching, her pale skin humming with an electric afterglow, her thighs shaking.
Linda, her face covered with the Ardel woman's fluids, felt nothing but pride.
Her lesbian brain telling her she did a good job, like a puppy should.
Although, Linda's cock was throbbing, pulsing, and begging for attention…
And Linda wanted more.