Oras gestured at the table. It was located against the wall, three wooden windows behind it, all of them closed. “Your seat, wife.”
“How noble,” Theria purred and hopped onto the flat surface. “This the part where I strip down?”
“Yes,” Oras was already pulling his own shirt over his head. He threw it on top of a chair, where it was swiftly picked up by Celia. The blonde regarded the entire scene with quiet interest, while neatly folding and stowing away all of the clothes that flew across the room. Oras was too busy with what was in front of him to bother teaching her about what she did and did not have to do at that moment.
“Ya know, maybe I want to suck you off to start these off sometimes?” Theria asked.
“Do you want a lecture on the economy of semen?” Oras returned, to which she shook her head. “Then believe me when I say that I am doing this for our mutual benefit. Now… to study my favourite thing in the world.”
His wife giggled girlishly when he sat down on the chair in front of her. Toned thighs widely spread, upper back resting against the wall, she was entirely presented for his viewing enjoyment. He leaned in, inspecting the way her pubic mound rose between her thighs, its softness surrounded by taut sinews and relaxed muscles.
Even after the bath she had taken before dinner, she still smelled faintly of the forest. An alchemical tincture kept her nice and smooth, with not even the beginnings of hairs showing. Oras ran his hand over the edges of her womanhood, appreciating the depth of the care she put into herself.
“Ya just gonna watch?”
“I’m savouring the moment,” Oras responded, before leaning in.
Oras had enjoyed a taste of her here and there on the road. This was a proper, stress-free environment though, which gave him the opportunity to do more than just taste her: he could tongue-fuck her.
“Oh, Master!” she cried out, as soon as he invaded her. The tip of his tongue curved, finding the sensitive spot at the roof of her pussy. He drew small, elegant circles, rhythmically stimulating the bundle of sensitivity. When her initial cries diminished, the spot growing numb from being focused on, he swiftly adjusted his strategy.
Now truly excited, her cunt was swollen, her clit already half exposed. Pushing the hood back the rest of the way was easily done. Her lewd moans only grew more frequent. Her thighs twitched to either side of his head, barely managing to remain still.
Oras did not want them still. He took hold of her right leg and hoisted it on his shoulder. The tomboy’s limb was perfect, sculpted by the outdoor life. She had thighs representing her ability to march for long distances, the tan to prove her love of the sun. It felt like the very warmth of the daystar radiated from her.
“Oh…. oh Master… oh… yes!” Theria did not have an ounce of shame, filling the room with her cries. Why would she, when her voice was so gorgeous?
Vaguely, Oras was aware of the blonde doll-woman in the corner of his vision. She was kneeling on her bed, watching the whole engagement with wide eyes and plush, parted lips. Her hands were folded in her lap. Like Oras and Theria, Celia was naked, but her female bits were still covered in that pressed-on foil.
The redhead’s moans spiked in volume, drawing her husband’s attention back to her. The back of her head pressed against the wall, while a hand sunk into his black hair. She pulled him in deeper and he obliged. He tasted her overflowing honey, noted every twitch of her folds with delight. Her ragged breath, her half-lidded stare, her medium-sized breasts jiggling, all of them were his to drink in.
Pressing fingers into her quivering thigh, Oras lost himself to the task. He well and truly tongue-fucked her. The words pouring from her were simple. “Master.” “More.” “Yes.” “Please.” “Don’t stop.” “There.” “Right there!”
Finally, there were no more words, just the emptying of her lungs in a drawn out shout of pleasure. Her hips bucked against him, grinding her lower lips against his tongue. The intense shudders that went through her made her tanned, athletic form even more beautiful.
Oras slowed while she rode out her orgasm. Slowed, but did not stop. She was his to toy with, after all, his willing sex slave of a submissive wife. A tomboy in the forest, a fighter in danger, and a freak in the sheets. ‘Really, how much better could it get?’ he asked himself.
The love of his life swallowed. Aftershocks and the workings of his tongue continued to make her tremble. “A-ahlright… I ain’t complainin’ that we start with this again,” she purred.
“You will,” Oras disagreed. “Playful minx.”
Theria giggled behind a raised hand. Her green eyes darted to the side in a moment of lucidity. “Ya like what you’re seeing?” she asked the ancient String.
“My owner’s pleasure is pleasant to me, yes,” she responded, audibly straining to retain a professional tone. “I am happy to verify your enjoyment.”
“That all?” Theria asked teasingly. “Just ‘happy’?”
Celia did not respond to that.
Distracted by their conversation, Oras’ tongue stopped moving. He only noticed when Theria sent him a pleading gaze. Perhaps she thought he was doing it to tease her, but he genuinely had just forgotten to do two things at the same time.
When he hurried to return to it, he fumbled. His tongue was gliding in and out of her to little effect. Theria breathed a little quicker, but that was about it. He was missing all of the sensitive spots. He forced himself to stop again and regain his composure.
It was a partial success. When he resumed moving his tongue, he did so to limited moans. She was getting closer and closer to a second orgasm. If he kept going at it, he would have her there soon.
It was his choice, whether to follow the pulsing need of his hard cock or take advantage of his sound mind to prepare her more with tongue or fingers.
Resolving to strike while the woman was aroused, Oras continued his oral strategy. Theria responded with more light gasps and sighs. It was a withheld reaction compared to what he got initially, a consequence of his own distractions. Even now, he could not quite manage to get back into the zone. The knowledge that Celia was kneeling there, so horny her nipples poked against the inside of her coverings, was doing things to his primal mind.
He was not at his best, but Theria was so close that it hardly mattered. “Takin’ it slow, mhm?” she asked, still going for a more gracious interpretation as to why he wasn’t pushing her rapidly towards the edge again. “Slow is good sometimes.”
Oras hummed in agreement, to preserve his dignity as a proud oral provider.
A dignity that was a bit difficult to preserve when his tongue was doing the bare minimum to keep Theria at her current level. There was a stretch of almost half a minute where he barely got a sigh out of her. His eyes constantly darted to the side, crossing with the golden gaze of the intrigued doll. ‘Why does she look guilty?’ the question distracted him thoroughly.
“Almost… there…” Theria muttered. Her eyes were closed, her brows knitted. Her expression shifted between suspense and relief. Her midriff was tense, the peaks and valleys of her shapely stomach pronounced. “Keep… goin’... Master… please…”
Even while she was being slowly nudged to her orgasm, she kept up the respect for his position. Appreciation for her only surged in Oras’ heart.
Motivated, he managed to shackle his primal side and focus entirely on her again. He hoisted her second leg onto his shoulder, framing his entire word with her toned thighs. They pressed into the sides of his head, partially deafening him. His tongue worked swiftly, circling her clit as her lungs filled and emptied in bursts.
After a slow approach, she reached the pinnacle abruptly. Her knuckles went white, clutching the edge of the table with trembling intensity. Every muscle in her tall frame went through rapid tensing and relaxation. A peaceful, satisfied expression dominated her face.
Even if it still wasn’t his best work, he could at least say that the easing off afterwards was deliberate. Lick for lick, he slowed down, until the redhead was peacefully cooing where she sat
“Ya really like to play with your food,” she said.
“I do like playing with you,” he agreed readily.
The throbbing of his manhood became too urgent to ignore. In a barely patient motion, he rose and pushed the chair aside. The scratching of wood over wood became just another one of the many sounds they filled the likely empty inn with. If anyone was there, they had opted not to complain.
Theria pulled her legs back and pushed her bubble butt to the very edge of the table. She received her husband with open arms. Leaning down, her warm hand on the back of his neck, he kissed her while he rubbed the head of his cock against her drenched mons.
Precum mixed with orgasmic juices, making the entry a smooth affair. Smooth, hot, and tight, enveloping his cock in the way only its proper sheathe could. “Fuck,” Oras muttered under his breath.
A lewd smirk spread on Theria’s lips. “Cussin’? For me? Is my pussy that good?”
“The best.” Oras sank in deeper and deeper, until all of his respectable size was in the gripping tunnel. The strong muscles beyond the twitching folds shifted, pressing down on him.
“You have such a nice cock, bro,” she gasped.
“Calling me ‘bro’ during sex is more than a little weird.”
“...Mhm… yeah, I guess it is.” Theria hooked one of her legs around him. “What’re ya gonna do to me now, Master?”
Deeds endured that question. Holding her by the tiny bit of healthy plush on her love handles, Oras began to fuck her. Eyes closed, Theria offered her lips to him again. Her outstretched tongue was wrestled into submission, while he moved in and out.
His pace was moderate, loving. He was concentrating on the intimacy of the moment, of the satisfaction of pleasuring his wife without the threat of a bear attack in the back of his mind. There was only the distracting presence of the gorgeous doll on the bed to his right. Celia had not moved or spoken in a while. Her amber gaze remained locked on them.
Oras tried not to pay her any mind. His cock glided in and out of his favourite redhead. There was pleasurable resistance at every step. Her insides did not want to let him go, and her natural tightness made entry just a little difficult. The force he put behind the motions only served to make Theria whisper muffled sighs of pleasure into their kiss.
Tight as she was, something about the angle wasn’t properly working for them. The human body had its quirks. Sometimes, for enigmatic reasons, an act just did not feel as good as it usually did.
‘Perhaps it’s time to change positions?’ he asked himself.
After just a moment of pondering, he decided on yes. He pulled out of Theria and commanded her with a simple gesture to turn around. Feet touched the ground and his first wife presented her rear.
In its roundness, her butt was easily the squishiest part of her. Certainly, her breasts were a handful of jiggle, but those bubbly cheeks were so much more. Oras treated himself to a swift smack. She knew well to keep herself relaxed, the meat soft. The impact translated to abundant ripples.
“Thank you, Master,” Theria trilled, her voice so nicely melodic.
A surprised moan filled the air when he slammed back into her. Her ass flattened against his groin, her thighs pressed against the edge of the table.
Oras went into a quick rhythm immediately. The cries he wanted to hear were little gasps at most. One did not need to be a genius to know that he was not hitting the right spots. Worse, at this pace, he was wasting his own stamina. Every thrust was a tingle up his spine.
It was time for drastic measures.
Oras put one foot on the nearby chair, giving himself a little lift to hit at an unorthodox angle. Simultaneously, the ponytail of his favourite redhead became his rein. A half-powered yank forced her head back.
Eyes widened as the interplay of pleasure and pain hit her. “Oh…. fuck!” her voice burst out, telling Oras everything he needed to really lean into this new position.
Rapid thrusts filled the room. It was fortunate that the table was screwed to the wall, otherwise the insistent banging could have been that little bit too much. Not that the slapping of flesh against flesh was much quieter. Theria, however, was basically silent.
Mouth agape, she stared into the air. Her lungs were empty, her pussy stuffed. Oras made sure that the gaps in time where that wasn’t the case were tiny. Hammering her so fast and rough was taking its toll on him, but what did that matter when it was sending her off into the lands of ecstasy.
“O-o-o—-ohra-a-a-a-assssssss!” she managed to inhale, then cry. “You-u-u’re gonna… break meee-e-e-e-eeeeee!”
“Good.” Oras suddenly released her hair. Before she could slump back forwards, he had wrapped the arm around her neck instead. He pulled her in, putting her into a tight chokehold. “Good girls break for their Master.” His free hand roamed down her front, finding her clit, and circling it slowly while his cock continued to glide in and out of her in a blur.
The combination of it all, pain, pleasure, praise, was too much. Theria was panting, a high-pitched audible, borderline hyperventilating display that only ended when he fully sealed her windpipe with the pressure of his arm. Her eyes rolled up, the lids fluttered unevenly. Down to her instincts, Theria’s mind was melting away.
An explosive orgasm made her spasm so intensely, Oras had to genuinely try to keep her still. Curled fingers banged the tabletop. Squirting love juices rained down on the wooden surface and ran down toned thighs. Oras grit his teeth, stuck in a heavenly hell of a clenching hole.
“Good girl!” he pressed out.
Even while screaming silently, the corners of Theria’s lips twitched upwards. Pinned against his collarbones, she was a picture of bliss. Control over her facial features had been entirely relinquished to passion.
Oras had not even the slightest inclination of letting this moment of ecstasy slip him by. He loosened the hold on her neck enough to let her take a desperate breath. It was pushed out of her when he hilted in her cunt again. “Whose property are you?” he asked.
“Yours, Master!”
“What are you?”
“Yourrrrr - willing - sex slave!”
“Exactly, good girl, keep swinging your hips for me!”
Every time he thrust into her, he was met by the backswing of her ass. The repeated clapping now had a firmly wet note, the intensity of her orgasm having soaked their sexes. The moisture of the rainforest did the rest, covering her in trickles of sweat, while Oras was merely glistening lightly.
He was in absolute control of her. Her breathing, her position, her pleasure. He fucked her hard and fast, carving that fact into her depths. She delighted in it, screaming when he let her, shifting when he desired it, and always being a good, tight sheathe for his cock.
The desire to be even deeper inside her was overwhelming. He pulled out, only to pick her up and toss her on the closest bed. That turned out to be Celia’s, but in his state, Oras did not care about that little detail. The doll woman had been watching everything so far, what difference did proximity make?
Theria landed on her back. She pulled her legs up before he was on top of her. He grabbed her ankles, pinned them to the mattress above her head, and got ready to stuff her gaping pussy once again.
In a savage motion, he slammed down into her with enough force to make the bed creak. The deep impact pressed Theria down. Her eyes rolled up again, a prolonged shout pouring from her gaping lips. She twitched as another orgasm ran through her. She grasped the bedsheets. Her green eyes pleaded for more.
“I love how sensitive you get,” Oras praised her, grunting as he pulled out of her. She was so drenched and stretched that he could now move despite her clenching folds. A fact that he took savage advantage of, straddling her rolled up hips and mating with her like a dragon should. “My most precious possession.”
“Thahnnnkk youuuuuu!” she screamed, before he mashed his lips on hers, tasting her sweetness once more.
He rutted into her. It was a reckless assault, a constant stream of pleasure. There was no art to it, and yet Oras managed to hit the right spots to have the woman beneath him gasping again within a minute. Slap for slap, plap for plap, he was working himself closer to his first orgasm and her closer to her fifth.
Theria looked feverish at that point. Glassy, devoted eyes beheld either her man or nothing at all. “I love you,” she moaned between kisses. “I love you so much.”
“I love you too,” Oras pressed out, voice flat from the physical exertion. His muscles were burning from the high pace. He refused to stop.
Theria’s breathing came in bursts now. When air entered and left her, it did so loudly, her vocal cords singing the song of manifest desire. “Ah…. mhm…. Oh… ye… Ma…. ye… Ah…. ah!” Singular syllables were all she managed.
Every ‘PLAP!’ that filled the room was another nail in the coffin of her reason. Oras kept fighting off the urge to stop until… there no longer was any such urge. He entered a trance in which there was only one thing that mattered: turning his wife’s brain into mush.
And he succeeded.
A last utterance crossed her lips, “...Master…!” then she was hit by the orgasm that delivered her from the realm of being a person to being a blissed out cocksleeve. Her back arched as best as her position allowed. Her legs tensed, straining his arms with the effort to keep her down. Repeat discharges of pussy juice soaked the sweat-stained sheets beneath her ass. Eyes rolled up, remaining barely visible in the upper corner.
Oras kept pounding her. His own release mounted slower, ramped almost gently. He did not think. He was entirely focused on keeping this one, intense climax going. He was all too aware of the blonde less than a metre removed from him, her hands deliberately crossed behind her back. He was aware - but he did not care.
All that was needed was that he was going to pump his childhood friend full of his seed.
When he stopped deep inside her, he did so to the depraved, joyous cry of his cocksleeve. His grip slipped off her sweaty skin. Her legs immediately closed around his waist, keeping them both in place while his weight pressed her into the cushions. His heavy balls rested against her ass, tightening as load after load of thick cum rushed into the place it belonged.
With every spurt, a bit of the animating spirit left Oras. When he pulled out, he did so with lungs made of metal and muscles made of stone. ‘I’ll just need a minute,’ he thought. ‘Don’t think I will need to keep going though.’
Below him, Theria was a wreck. Her gaping cunt contracted irregularly, the entirety of her body twitching with it. It was the second time he had pounded her into a state like this and he was more than a little proud of himself for having done so. Her gooey expression was absent of any reason. “Masshtahr’s cock,” seemed to be the only words she still spoke.
“...Mas…ter…?”
The tiny, reluctant utterance belonged to the other female in the room. Oras turned his head, directly looking at her for more than a passing moment since this lewd engagement began. The light crystal he had taken from the same ruin as her basked the chamber in orange twilight, painting her white-gold curves with amber shadows.
Her eyes snapped to the side, ashamed of something.
“What is it?” Oras asked.
Celia inhaled deeply, then held the air within her. She was struggling, her unmoving posture compromised by the shifting of someone who could not find a comfortable position. She mustered enough courage to focus her gaze on his cock. “Forgive this servant for speaking without being spoken to… would you… touch me as well? Remove the foil, at least?”
Oras looked at her. He glanced at Theria for some potential advice on the matter… she wasn’t in any state to give advice. In her absence, there was only the second load yearning to be released, mixed with the fantasies he had about being the one to wed a String from Precursor times.
“Stay still,” he said. His voice was strung with a discipline he did not truly possess in that moment. Somewhere in the back of his mind, it whispered that this was a mistake. The impulse of a horny young man was much stronger.
A part of the foil was deliberately left sticking up, forming a collar around Celia’s neck. Another symbolical part of the Precursor design or actual coincidence, Oras did not know. Either way, he would pull it off her.
The doll woman let out a quiet, “Ah…” when he began to pull off the cover. Whatever way it was adhered to her skin did not leave behind any substance on it. Said skin below was of the exact same porcelain white. Decorative golden cracks and lines ran through it, as it did with current day Stringless.
It was immensely satisfying to peel the foil off her. It loosened smoothly, remained taut, and released a particular, aromatic scent that Oras had never encountered anywhere else. The segments of the foil were linked in such a way that he pulled them off one after another. One side of her neck, then the other, down to the skin-tight cover of her breasts, and finally peeling the final parts off her pussy.
That was the only part of it all that came away sticky. Swollen, wet, and a delicious pink, her virgin flower shared its colour with the crowns of her petite breasts and full lips. Oras marvelled at it for a moment, before reflexively dropping the foil.
The material had begun to disintegrate. What appeared to be golden flames at first was a harmless dispersing of particles into mana. Oras followed it with no small degree of fascination. He was equally annoyed and saddened by the thin and surprisingly strong material dissolving. It must have been worth a lot.
His regret for removing it was eliminated entirely when he looked back to Celia.
“Please, Master… do as you wish with me,” she said, reclining in the bed to present herself in her full nudity. The ball joints at the base of her legs framed her womanhood in gold. Golden cracks webbed over her flat midriff. The body markings of a Stringless shifted every day. Today, they were very pronounced.
Her legs were spread wide, the thighs and calves, despite their porcelain appearance, shifting with gravity like regular flesh. She propped herself up on one elbow. Her lips were parted, her tongue extended invitingly. Half-lidded eyes beheld him with clear need. Golden hair formed a backdrop to it all.
Horny as he was… Oras still managed to hold onto one core piece of his morality.
“Not what I wish to do with you,” he corrected her. “What you want done with you.”
“I’m your property, like she is.” Celia pointed at the redhead. Absent new stimulation, Theria's exhaustion was slowly pulling her into the land of dreams.
“That is different.”
“How so?” Celia wanted to know.
“She is my willing sex slave and that is a bedroom arrangement only. It’s a sort of play we both enjoy.”
“I will be your willing sex slave as well, Master.”
“To be willing, your will needs to belong to yourself.” Oras spoke, in spite of the desire to do everything and anything to that pear-shaped body. “If you want me to fuck you, I will. If you think you are just the more suitable tool for me to relieve myself.” He shook his head. “I have no interest in that.”
Celia pressed her lips together. She was clearly annoyed, but tried not to show that. “Please, Master, fuck me… if it pleases you.”
It would please him. It would please him immensely, but that wording was a reluctant fusion of what he had asked for and what she clung onto. ‘What do I do with that?’ he asked himself. The horny part of him rationalized that this was a step in the right direction, so he should give her the proverbial carrot. ‘Is that the right thing to do?’
He was struggling.
“Celia… I mean it, I want you to be yours-”
“Your instructions do not compute,” she interrupted him harshly. “Do you want to choose for me or do you want to accept my loyalty, my pride as a servant? My choice is yours to make. I am your property. You are my Master. If you wish for me to play a role, I can pretend for your excitement.”
Celia glared at him. What lustful air there had been was about to be lost. It could still be seized, but only if he acted on it now. That would also mean entertaining her insistence on being his puppet.
In the war of his dick and his principles, his principles won.
“If you do not want me to fuck you, then I won’t,” he stated, bluntly.
Celia’s glare took on a highly confused character. Was it because he had denied her what she clearly wanted, or was it because she had the desire for him to stay in her bed? Whatever the case, Oras picked up Theria and moved her over to their bed.
After all of that, the desire to dump the second load in her had faded. His dick was flaccid, his libido gone. The one time he had climaxed was enough to satisfy him anyhow. Just because he could go twice didn’t mean he had to.
With some worry of what tomorrow would bring, he let the darkness of exhaustion claim him.