Part 5: Triangle, The Alchemist's Illusions

Chapter 46: Proposition

Linza had requested to borrow the madame’s private area of the veranda, the same place that she had first met Grun, and the madame had obliged with a knowing smile.

Linza had arrived a bit early, wanting to be sure to be there first, and also too nervous to do much of anything else.

The sun-warmed breezes of the ocean rippled over the veranda and through her hair. That was much of why she’d wanted to do it here. The sun and the ocean lent her their expansive calm.

Had the day been stormy, she would have taken it as an omen and called off the whole thing. She still found herself ever so slightly wishing that a sudden squall might overtake the blueness of the sky and release her from what she was about to do. 

But just as the estate had no such rule against staff relationships, the sky did no such thing.

Tanyth arrived first. They wore a violet suit, their hair braided down and around one shoulder, strands loosed from the edges to frame their face. Linza suspected they had tapped into their masculine energies for assertiveness.

They looked more cheerful than Linza had expected, which either meant that they had not inferred her true purpose or that they had become much better at lying.

“Linza!” they said as they waved. They came to sit across from her, leaning back in their chair and looking unbothered. “I’ve missed you, this past week.”

“I had a lot of thinking to do,” she said.

“Did you reach any conclusions?” Their facade wavered. Despite their best efforts, they looked very interested in her response.

She hesitated, hoping that at least one element of the day’s timing would work in her favor. 

It did. Tanyth turned towards the sound of the door opening and to the sight of Grun ducking under the doorway, which did not admit his full height. He wore tailored trousers and no shirt, his hair caught up in a bun.

They looked at each other.

Then they looked at Linza.

Linza waved Grun over to sit down.

Tanyth’s facade slipped another inch, and they looked concerned. “I didn’t realize this was…”

Grun grinned smugly and folded his arms as he sat. He dwarfed the little chair, just like he dwarfed Tanyth. “I daresay that’s the point.”

“You know what’s happening?” Tanyth said.

“I reckon we are about to hear a verdict,” Grun said.

“A verdict? What about?”

“Well, she can’t very well tell us if you’re prattling, can she?” Grun met Linza’s eyes. It was a challenge. She held his gaze.

Tanyth glanced nervously between them.

Linza took a deep breath. She was regretting her decision to be sober for this. “What’s happening is… you’re on a date.”

“A date?!” Tanyth said. “Is someone— doesn’t that mean that someone—”

Grun still looked at her with his even eyes, his slight smile. He seemed to already understand.

“All three of us,” Linza said, trying to keep her voice steady.

“Like a competition?” Tanyth squeaked.

Grun laughed. “If it were a competition, you wouldn’t be here at all, little bird.”

Linza was nearly offended on Tanyth’s behalf, but Tanyth just looked startled. They were all request and no command. In any contest, Grun would dominate, it was true.

And that was the exact thing that Linza had been struggling with. If she put forward an ultimatum to the two of them, she knew that no matter what she asked, no matter what she clarified, Grun by his nature would seize the prize. Tanyth, by their nature, would defer.

It would be an experiment that undermined its goal by its very design.

Her primary mistake had been looking to a competitive evaluation for answers.

Linza cleared her throat. 

They both looked at her.

“We, all three of us, are here to go on a date with each other. To see… if we all get along. Together. The three of us.”

Grun’s grin deepened.

Tanyth pressed their fingers to their lips. “I’m still not quite sure I…”

Grun reached over and cupped Tanyth’s cheek in his hand. Tanyth’s hand fell to the table and their eyes turned fully up into Grun’s.

“I believe,” Grun said, “that the lady is asking if we can get along. Do you think we can get along?”

Tanyth nodded emphatically.

Grun leaned down and kissed them tenderly. They melted into his embrace.

Linza’s heart raced. This was all going so very much faster than she had expected. Was Grun mocking her? Yet, would she really have invited him here if she thought he would?

He broke the kiss after a moment, and Tanyth hung upon him.

He looked to Linza. “Now, I am sure you are making some very scientific observations,” Grun said.

Linza nodded.

“How do you feel? Jealous? Excited?”

“Yes,” she breathed.

“Hm, that means the experiment must continue.”

“Does the experiment continuing mean you’re going to kiss me again?” Tanyth said.

“Only if you want me to,” Grun said.

Tanyth threw their arms around Grun’s neck and pulled themselves up into him.

Grun caught their waist and pulled them close.

Linza was feeling very good about her decision to ask to borrow the private veranda.

Grun had been right that she was too quick to defer to another’s happiness. But what had halted her every attempt to follow his advice was that, in the end, there was not so crisp a line between others’ happiness and her own. She was right to cut out abuse from her life, and she would do better at it.

But she was also right to take Grun’s words and find her own way.

Because holy shit was this turning her on.

Tanyth was floating, basking in the glow of attentions finally requited.

Grun was hungry yet tender, his erection already throbbing under his trousers. Whether he did it for her enjoyment or Tanyth’s or for theirs both, Linza did not quite know or care. All her cares evaporated in the growing heat between the three of them.

It was Tanyth who broke the kiss next. They cupped Grun’s cheeks in their small hands and smoothed the edges of his beard. “This is… just yes… but I have to…”

They had the demeanor of a drunk needing a stop in the wash room, especially as they extricated themselves from Grun’s arms and stumbled onto the veranda. But then they threw themselves into Linza’s arms and pressed their lips against hers. 

Linza’s butterflies exploded into flight. It was the sudden vent of wants left unsaid, the snapping of a leash and the rush of freedom.

To want, to crave, to hold, to heal.

Her selfish wish was that a selfless affection could flow between the three of them.

Grun came up around behind her, kissing her hair, her cheek. His lips on her neck, her shoulder.

Her wish came true.

Tanyth tucked their cheek against hers and she nestled into their neck, kissing them there.

“W-where there any s-stipulations on the use of the veranda?” Tanyth asked.

Grun’s hands found Linza’s breasts as his tongue traced the curve from the tip of her shoulder to her temple.

Linza moaned. “We have it for the hour.”

“Always so prepared,” Grun said, tipping her head back with his hand and kissing her again.

Tanyth stood and hastily kicked off their trousers, nearly tripping as they did.

Linza giggled through the kiss, and Grun pressed into her even more fiercely.

His hand pressed between her legs, and she moaned.

Tanyth’s hands found their shaft as they considered their options.

Linza wiggled and Grun leaned back, allowing her to strip her shirt off over her head and unbutton her skirt.

Grun’s trousers were struggling to contain his massive erection. He unbuttoned them and sighed with relief as he freed his member to Linza’s eager affections.

She could fit little more than the head of his shaft in her mouth, though Grun didn’t seem to mind her limits. He groaned happily and his knees shook.

Tanyth came to sit next to her, their hands finding Grun’s balls. “Do you want him inside of you as bad as I do?” Tanyth said.

“Most definitely,” Linza sighed. “But that’s going to take a lot longer than we have here.”

“When in doubt, cock worship?” Tanyth offered.

Linza leaned over and pecked them on the cheek. “You read my mind.”

Any of Grun’s previous machismo vanished as Linza and Tanyth lavished attentions upon him. He quivered and groaned—he gasped and his eyes pleaded.

He eventually ended up back in his chair, Linza and Tanyth kneeling between his legs.

They took turns between his shaft and balls, stroking and licking and moaning.

He shifted, rocking his hips towards them.

Linza broke from his tip for a moment. “Just so you know, he likes a rim job.”

Tanyth’s eyes lit up. They brought their attentions lower. “Ooooh, you took a bath right before this, didn’t you?”

“Y-yeah,” Grun said, “Never hurts to be… nnnngh… prepared…”

Tanyth brought their tongue enthusiastically to Grun’s perineum, licking eagerly.

Linza worked his shaft with both hands and stroked the underside of his head with the flat of her tongue. Already she was treated with another sweet drop of pre-cum.

Tanyth dropped a half an inch lower, and Grun’s voice caught.

Then Tanyth dropped a little lower, and Grun’s moans deepened, his whole body quivering with anticipation.

His shaft throbbed, his pleasure gifting Linza with more pre-cum.

Tanyth dropped a little bit lower.

“F-fuck! T-Tanyth I’m so close… if you get any closer than I’m really gonna… huh…”

Tanyth took that as an invitation to apply their enthusiastic oral attentions directly to Grun’s rim.

Grun’s back arched, he bellowed a moan, and his balls tensed at his base as he catapulted into climax.

Linza swallowed him greedily, the stroking of her tongue pulling even more out of him.

Both she and Tanyth knew how to read him, and they both eased just as pleasure turned to sensitivity.

Grun heaved a full-body sigh and looked up at them, but he seemed more enthused than sated. “Alright, who’s next?”

“Linza, of course!” Tanyth said.

Linza shook her head. “Nope. Tanyth.” She grinned a little wickedly. “I want to see how quickly you can make them pop.”

Grun sat up and dipped his head at Linza. “As you wish.”

Tanyth flushed red, and they trembled with anticipation, their own erection throbbing. “It’s only fair, I couldn’t impose, I—”

Grun dropped to his knees and stood Tanyth up in front of him, then took Tanyth’s entire length into his mouth.

Tanyth’s protests melted into a moan of abject pleasure.

With a practiced rhythm and genuine desire to please, Grun worked over Tanyth’s length.

“F-fuck… this feels like… like fucking it feels… nnngh so gooood…”

Grun tilted his head to wink at Linza.

Her own heart fluttered out of her chest. She dropped back to her chair and kicked off her soaked underwear. Her whole body was thrumming even before she pressed her fingers over her vulva. She gasped at the pleasure.

This spurred Grun on.

That sent Tanyth even deeper into their spiral of bliss, and both of those things together especially fanned Linza’s heat, which escaped in further gasps, and so on.

Round and around, they climbed.

Grun started stroking himself, the moans of his own pleasure mingling with the pressing heat of his mouth as he enveloped Tanyth.

Tanyth anchored their fingers in his hair lest they fall over, and they let Grun push and push them towards climax.

Linza watched them, capturing every curve and angle and note into memory. The arch of Tanyth’s back. Their braid unraveling. Grun’s hand around their hips, fingers reaching fully around one cheek of their ass. The droplets beading and then falling from Grun’s tip, as he slowly stroked himself.

Linza’s own moans deepened. She was getting close.

Within a moment, Tanyth was hanging from the edge, totally at Grun’s mercy.

And then Linza realized. Grun hadn’t really been trying to make Tanyth come as fast as he could, though he had certainly put on a show of it.

What he was really doing was holding Tanyth at the quivering edge as long as he could. Timing it all for Linza. An offer that the three of them might climax together. Simultaneous orgasm was hardly necessary for pleasure, and perhaps a bit overrated. But Linza had to admit, it was really really hot.

The realization of what Grun was doing for her pushed her over the edge as much as the sight of it did.

As she screamed her pleasure, totally forgetting that on the veranda they could not be seen but they certainly could be heard, Grun unfettered his efforts.

As Linza’s mind returned from the brink of sanity to the throbbing waves of pleasure, Tanyth groaned and collapsed over Grun’s head, wrapping their arms around his neck.

Grun swallowed, the ripple of his throat sending another trickle of pleasure down Linza’s spine.

And then Grun came, his moans making Tanyth gasp, his cum in thick white spurts across the wood and Tanyth’s feet.

Tanyth shook, leaning against the table and waiting for their senses and balance to return. They laughed as they saw their feet.

An idea sparked in Linza’s mind, a suggestion from the character of the orcish woman that she had summoned for Grun, and she voiced it.

“If it pleases,” she crooned at him, “Do clean up the mess you’ve made of poor Tanyth.”

The complete deference on Grun’s face astounded Linza as he eagerly bowed and licked his spend off of Tanyth’s feet.

Tanyth gasped, tensing at what might have been ticklish, their shaft throbbing to hardness again.

Linza had intended that Grun might use his shirt or something, but this was way better.

Finally, Grun looked up at her. “Have I pleased?”

“Yes. And we’ll get a rag for the rest. I don’t want you licking the floor, you kiss me with that mouth.”

He seemed to take that as an invitation, surging to his feet, scooping her up, and doing just that, plunging her into the heady musk of his sweat, the bitter taste of his seed on his tongue.

That nearly drove her into another frenzy, except for one thing—she couldn’t quite breathe. Reluctantly, she reluctantly put a hand to his chest. 

He leaned back.

“Okay, okay, I need to catch my breath.” 

He relented, and she folded into his chest.

Those next minutes trickled softly like sand through an hourglass. The ocean whispered. Their hearts slowed. They all silently reflected on what had fallen away, and what still was.

They stirred, then dressed again.

Linza carefully straightened Tanyth’s shirt, her fingers lingering at their waist.

Grun playfully untucked Linza’s shirt, and as she stopped to fix it, he flipped up her skirt and grabbed her ass.

They left the veranda and went for dinner, talking easily and laughing long into the night.

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Part 4: The Interloper, The Alchemist's Illusions

Chapter 36: Dessert

Grun carried her up all five flights of stairs as easily as she carried her clutch. He held her as she dug out her keys and unlocked the door, and she would have had him carry her right to her bed, except she really needed to pee.

Mischief twinkled in his eye, but he thought better of it, and Linza scurried off to the bathroom, cursing her basic bodily functions.

As she emerged and saw him standing on the other side of the room, shirt mussed, trousers still tracing his muscular legs, hands tucked in his pockets, she paused.

He, too, hesitated.

For all their mutual voracity, a quiet and insistent hush fell over them. It was as if they each noticed a rare creature, one that might flee should they speak too loudly or move too quickly.

Grun stepped forward first, with his gentle yet intractable momentum, like a ship gliding on a calm sea.

He reached her like a spray of salt water, upon her all at once but nowhere harshly, his fingertips brushing her chin.

Her hands washed up onto his chest, crested around to his sides, his waist.

He folded around her, kissed her neck. She pulled him in closer, fingertips curling to claws.

His teeth met her skin.

She gasped. Her hands found the firmness in his trousers.

He groaned and unzipped the back of her dress.

She undid his buttons.

He slipped the dress down her shoulders and around her hips and it crumpled to the floor. His fingertips traced her spine, his palm pressing tight against the flat of her back, his breathy moan pouring over her neck.

Despite how conflicted Linza had felt, despite how many questions remained, in that moment she knew exactly what she wanted. She unbuttoned his shirt and traced her tongue over the arc of his pectorals, dropping to swirl over his nipples and earning a gasp and a wiggle.

As he shrugged out of his shirt, she dropped to her knees before him and freed his throbbing cock.

She had noted the size of it when he had stroked himself, but now that her own small hands wrapped around him, she truly appreciated the scale. She could just barely wrap one hand around his head and his base, but his mid-shaft swell forced her fingers apart. The base of his shaft was the same grey-green as the rest of his skin, but he darkened to purple towards the tip and his glans was soft pink under the sheath of his foreskin.

Grun moaned and shuddered at the sensation of her fingertips exploring him. “Y-you don’t have to—”

“I want to,” Linza crooned, swirling her tongue under his tip.

Grun’s entire body went stiff, vibrating with the effort of saying upright as he groaned. “I-I insist…”

That wicked, slithering thing draped over her shoulders and snickered.

Linza smirked. “Is that so?” She gripped just behind his head and gently pushed down towards his base, the skin sliding with her and revealing more of his glans. She flicked the tip of her tongue at his frenulum. 

He shuddered and grunted.

She slowly stroked him. “Insist away. No, really. Feel free to stop me any time.” She leaned down and sucked at his tip.

“Fuck! N-not fair…”

“If it makes you feel any better…” She lifted her other hand to cup his balls, learning the weight of them in her hand and earning another barely-contained moan. “You did get to go first. I… I really appreciated what you said at dinner.”

“N-not sure how it earned this, but… I’m glad…”

Linza gently squeezed his testicles, noting the way it made his eyes roll back.

Gods, she never would have dreamed of doing anything like this—of being anyone like this—six months ago. But between the illusions and the lectures and all the smut she’d been writing, she’d become much more sure of herself than she’d realized.

“I’m an alchemist, remember? You give me compliments, I give you…” She took him into her mouth and swirled her tongue between his frenulum and his foreskin.

“Oh, fuck!” His breath shuddered.

Every gasp, every moan, every shake ignited the heat between Linza’s legs. She loved having such an effect on him, loved making him lose his composure. Not that it was particularly difficult… but it was still very satisfying. 

She lost track of time kneeling before him, stroking and sucking and exploring, teasing out groans and twitches and pre-cum. His breathing accelerated.

“L-Linza… If you keep that up, I’m gonna…”

Linza slowed, giving a teasing suck to his tip. Grun’s hips bucked into her hands, desperate to keep up the sensation.

“S-sorry! It’s okay if you don’t—”

“I just have one question. How soon before you’re good to go again?”

His husky laugh stirred the heat between her legs. “I’m a half-orc, what do you think?”

“Good.” Linza started up again, full-tempo. After the brief pause, the sensation was even more intense.

“Fuck! Gods, that feels good…”

His shaft throbbed, his head oozed pre-cum onto her tongue, his balls tensed. She remembered his load on the veranda, remembered how badly she had wanted to try and swallow all of it, and her whole body went dizzy with arousal. Her panties were soaked, her sex throbbed, but she could wait. She wanted everything that he could possibly give her, and she moaned around his shaft, hoped that he would understand her wordless request.

“Oh shit… Linza, I’m… I’m gonna… Linza!”

If there were such a thing as a sympathetic orgasm, Linza had one right then, her whole body buzzing with the pleasure.

And then his first spurt hit the back of her tongue, and her entire awareness narrowed to drinking down as much of him as she could. His seed was hot and bitter and earthy and she wanted more of it, all of it, and she sucked and swallowed at his tip until he put his hand to her cheek. Linza leaned back and licked her lips.

“Good gods, Linza, you play so fucking hard to get and then…” He shivered. “And to think I was still worried you didn’t actually want to come to dinner.” His breathing slowed and his shoulders relaxed, but his cock showed no sign of softening.

She kissed his tip. “What can I say? You’re persuasive.”

Grun smiled and growled. “I could say the same to you. Nice guys finish last, and now you’ve gone and turned me into a jerk.” He leaned down and scooped her up off the floor and carried her back towards the bed.

“You were already a jerk.”

“Hey, since when have I been a jerk to you?”

“You interrupted my lunch!” Linza smacked his chest, and then he tossed her back onto the bed.

“Huh. Good point. That maybe wasn’t the best first impression for meeting a human, was it?”

“No! How’d you guess that I’m an overachiever and yet not realize that?”

Grun kneeled over her, a smile still dancing in his sea-glass eyes even as he pouted down at her. “Look, the barging in is a cultural thing. I’m sorry it ruined your lunch. But if my memory of that meeting is a bit… hazy…” His cock throbbed. “That is not my fault.”

A wicked grin pulled at Linza’s lips. She reached down and stroked his cock again. “I dunno, maybe if you weren’t so eager to show off how obedient you could be, you wouldn’t have cum your brains out.”

Grun’s eyes fluttered, and he whimpered, swaying as his legs slackened under him. “Hey!”

It was so much more intense a reaction than she’d expected. She loved it. “That really affects you, doesn’t it?”

“Yes,” Grun grumbled. “And for the record, I’m a switch. That lever goes both ways, and it’s just as touchy on either side.”

“Oh? What does it take to get it to go the other way?”

“Beg me to fuck you and you’ll find out.”

Heat thundered through Linza. She wriggled out of her soaked panties and offered them to Grun. “I could beg, but why don’t I let my panties do the talking.”

Grun breathed deeply, his eyes darkening with arousal. He growled and the sound curled down around her, arching her back. “Yeah. That’ll work. Careful though, I’m not sure if you’re quite ready for—”

Linza pressed a finger to his lips and then rolled over towards her bedside table. Grun shifted out of the way so that she could fish out a glass dildo nearly as thick as he was. “I’m a, uh… bit of a size queen.”

“Show off,” Grun said.

“I just didn’t think you’d believe me if I didn’t show you.”

“Well, now I’m obligated to prove to you that my cock is better.”

“Please do… try.”

Grun growled, grabbed her hips and hauled her towards him. He spotted the jar of lube on the nightstand and coated himself. He was all quick and efficient movements, right until he lined his tip up to her entrance.

Linza’s hips bucked reflexively towards him.

Grun smirked. “Now, now… beggars can’t be choosers… I’m going to take my time.”

“Hey, now, that’s not—”

It was Linza’s turn to be utterly undone when he dragged his tip up between her already-slick folds, circling over her clit before sliding down again. Linza shuddered and arched towards him, desperate for more and yet unable to ask for it because what he was already doing felt so good.

“First impressions are important,” Grun crooned, circling his tip over her clit again, “As you so kindly just reminded me. So I want to make sure you know…” He pressed at her entrance and she tensed eagerly, but he pulled away to brush over her clit again, drowning her protests in another spark of pleasure. “Exactly how it is… I like to do things.”

Grun leaned back and pulled away from her. A whimper escaped her before she could think to stop it. 

“Rutting is fun and all…” he continued. “But I prefer to take my time. And as you also so kindly just reminded me…” He leaned down over her, face moving towards her hips. “You smell delicious.”

As slowly and gently as she had reached up to kiss him, he lowered his mouth towards her sex.

Linza had always thought of herself as a relatively self-controlled person, but she realized in that moment that she had nothing on Grun—at least not when it came to sex. Because while he said he’d wait forever and he’d meant it, reveled in it, she could not keep her hips from bucking into his face.

Fortunately for her, he seemed just as eager to taste her as she was for his touch, and he growled eagerly and stroked his tongue along her. Just as she had when she’d kneeled before him, he started slowly, gently, learning what made her moan and shudder. This was skill, it was craft. It was the ‘work’ in sex work, and gods did it pay off.

Linza’s back arched and Grun teased her with a few swirls of his tongue before slipping a finger in as he slid his tongue up to her clit. 

“Size queen, huh?” He slipped a second finger next to the first. His hands were so large that just those two fingers together were the girth of an average human cock.

All Linza could do was nod, and then his third finger sent her spinning back into dizzy ecstasy. She loved the stretch, loved how it felt to squeeze around something that filled her so completely. Pre-orgasmic sparks of heat danced around his fingers. And then his tongue found her clit again as the pads of his fingers found her spot.

She whimpered as every muscle in her body tensed. “D-don’t stop!”

Within and without, he surrounded every nerve of her pleasure. She squeezed around him, chasing her release. And then her pleasure blossomed under the rhythmic pressure of his tongue and she screamed so loudly that the neighbors would certainly hear. But there was no stopping it—whatever part of her mind cared about the neighbors guttered out for that blissful moment as she crested her climax.

Linza moaned through the rhythmic pulses of her aftershocks, her body unraveling with each wave of pleasure. Grun gentled his touch, easing his fingers out of her as she settled.

It was thoughtful and appropriate, but her nerves sparkled with desire, and she was not so easily sated.

“Fuck me right now,” she breathed.

Grun’s muscles went taught as they had when she’d brushed his upper thigh under the table. “I’ll start slow,” he said, an edge in his voice as if he were reminding himself more than Linza.

She nodded. “You won’t have to stay slow for long, don’t worry.”

Grun found the jar of lube and slicked his cock again.

“You won’t break me,” Linza chided.

“Is that a challenge?” Grun’s eyes flashed.

That slithering thing writhed with pleasure. “Yes,” Linza said.

Grun leaned over her and pressed his cock between her folds, and she lifted her hips to meet him. He rocked just his first half into her, withdrawing and stroking again. The fullness was incredible and she wanted all of it, but Grun pulled away again. On the third thrust, Linza couldn’t stand the tease, and she grabbed his ass and pulled him in to the hilt, a moan blooming in her throat as her eyes tipped back. She squeezed around him to take the edge off the painful stretch, and her body trembled with pleasure. 

“Fuck, you feel good…” she moaned.

Grun’s hips bucked into her. “So do you…”

“Please fuck me.” Her fingernails curled to claws around his upper arms. “Please!”

He growled and thrust into her, then again, and again, his pace increasing as his restraint dissolved.

“Yes!” Linza became an expanse of glittering stars. She loved sex after an orgasm. Every stroke felt like a climax, but left her desperate for more. She couldn’t stand how intense it was, but she couldn’t get enough of it. She squeezed around him, milking every sensation she could from that thick, throbbing cock.

“Fuck, you’re tight…” he said. He slowed abruptly, and Linza wondered for an instant if he’d already finished. But if he’d finished, she wouldn’t be wondering. No, he was edging himself.

These slow, deep strokes were ecstatic torture. There was no heat or urgency to hide just how large he was inside of her, how much she stretched to accommodate him. She huffed, squeezing around him as hard as she could, desperate for more sensation.

“Just how will I know if I broke you, I wonder…” he crooned, his pointed canines just inches from her face. He thrust deep, to a point that only felt good if she was very, very warmed up. She was. A whimper escaped from her throat.

“We could wager something,” he continued. “What would you like to bet?”

Linza tried to form words, but every stroke of his cock blanked her mind.

“Oh, or did I break you already?” He increased his pace.

Her head tipped back, mouth gaping, and every exhale was a moan. She didn’t resent the smug look on his face anymore. She didn’t have anything to win that she wasn’t already experiencing, any place to put him except exactly where he was.

“Please…” she breathed. “Please cum in me… I want to f-feel you…”

He growled and punded her into the bed, sending sparks bursting through her body with every stroke.

“Yes, gods yes! Please!” She could hardly wait another second—it was too intense, she was too hot, too full—but she didn’t want it to ever end.

“Linza…” His breath sawed in ragged gasps. 

“Yes, yes!” She wasn’t cumming, but she might as well have been. Every nerve sparkled with pleasure, her mind drowned in it, her body throbbed with it.

“Linza!” And then he erupted. His cock throbbed with every pulse, stretching her over-sensitive nerves, filling her with his heat. It flowed out around him with every thrust, slicking the tops of her thighs, spilling out onto the bed. She wanted to be covered in it, covered in him, bathing in his warmth.

It was a minute or more before his stroking slowed and he eased down onto his elbows over her, his breath steadying and his cock still throbbing.

Thanks to Presdigititation, Grun’s cum didn’t ruin her mattress.

But Linza couldn’t say the same about herself.

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Part 4: The Interloper, The Alchemist's Illusions

Chapter 31: Pretty Little Thing

Wyn had offered to torch both Tanyth and Grun with fireballs, and Linza had the uneasy feeling that Wyn actually would if Linza asked her to. Linza, of course, declined. But the genuine promise of violence was a token of affection from Wyn, and Linza once again thanked the stars for her friend.

The rest of the week was manageable, and Linza was able to focus on both her day job and her night job without too much further trouble. Her conversations with Tanyth still made her a bit queasy, and she manufactured excuses to dodge a couple of their conversations, but overall, it was alright.

Tanyth was clearly enamored with Grun, though Grun did not seem to reciprocate their flirtations.

Wonder what that’s like, Linza had snipped to herself.

“How frustrating!” she had said. If only Tanyth had known the irony.

Linza had been looking forward to the weekend, not so much for the lack of work as for the distraction of it. She was off the second day, and she and Wyn had planned a proper girl’s day.

Her shift had been mostly regulars since new guests didn’t tend to book a weekend midday. She was coming up on a slot that had cancelled last minute. In those cases, other staff were welcome to come take the slot. Otherwise, it would be a free break for her.

It was two minutes past the start of the slot and Linza was just gathering her things to step out for her break when there was a firm knock at the ornate door.

“Come in!” Linza called.

Grun entered. His long hair was up in a bun and his beard trimmed short. He now wore fitted trousers and a blazer with no shirt underneath. Had Tanyth taken him shopping? Or was this his own preferred style? 

He looked around the little room, his eyes hovering over the grate for a moment.

Linza reeled, reminding herself that he couldn’t see her lest she totally give in to the panic sizzling in her limbs.

 “Hi! I’m, uh… Grun. I’m new here and I figured it’d best if I, y’know, knew what all there was here. Tanyth said I ought to, since lots of folks start in my department and then ask about other things. The vanilla department, that is. I— um, I’m totally rambling.” Grun sat down awkwardly on the bamboo mat.

She was reluctant to admit how much his awkwardness settled her. She could do without the arrogant swagger. Seeing him so nervous, she almost liked him. Almost.

Did he know that it was her? If he asked her name, she’d tell him. Otherwise, it was expected that the illusionist in this scenario spoke as little as was necessary, and usually only answered direct questions. Not all guests liked the idea of being watched. The screen made it easier for them to imagine that they were alone with their illusion.

“H-how does this work?” he asked.

For these experiences, Linza used her ‘reading voice’ which was smooth and controlled and different enough from her conversational tone that he might not notice. “You tell me what you’d like. Almost anything at all. You’ll feel it, like it’s real. At any time, if you reject the illusion, the effect and the feeling will stop, and it will look translucent. It will last up to fifteen minutes.”

He nodded and ran his fingers through his beard.

He didn’t seem to have noticed that it was Linza. Here, sitting at her stool in the cozy little room, cloaked in shadow, the grate between them, it was easy to treat him like she would any other guest. 

As he described what he wanted, the image formed in her mind.

And then as she chanted the words and traced the gestures, the image formed in front of him.

The image was a woman, as much taller than him as he was taller than Linza. She was half-orc, hair in a ponytail, golden hoops lining her ears and one in her lip. She was naked, her breasts laying against her chest with nipples darker green than the rest of her skin.

“Why, aren’t you a pretty little thing?” Her voice was sweet and smoky.

He looked up at her, enraptured.

“C’mere!” She wrapped around him from behind and started pawing at his clothes. He unbuttoned them and soon was naked too.

Linza tried to maintain a merely professional appreciation of his body, ignoring the tingle of heat between her legs at the breadth of his shoulders, the muscles of his legs and ass, the slight softness of his stomach. She couldn’t help but remember the way all those muscles had strained on the veranda as he’d worked to control his release. His shaft throbbed quickly to its full length and girth, noticeably thicker in the middle.

Usually, Linza imagined the figures in the illusions as characters separate from herself, which made it easier to prompt them to say or do things that Linza herself wouldn’t do. But her professionalism wavered and though she couldn’t say why, she wanted very much to be that massive woman who towered over him.

The illusory orc woman gently pressed at Grun’s shoulders and he spun obediently, facing her and straddling her hips.

With one hand, she ran her fingers up his now hardened shaft.

He shivered and gasped.

Her other hand reached over his leg and easily cupped his whole ass cheek in her fingers. She squeezed, tugging at his rim.

He moaned.

“Why, you’re so ready to spread yourself for me, aren’t you?” she said.

He blushed and sputtered, just like he said he’d like to.

“Must be because you’re a greedy little slut,” she crooned.

“I am not, I—”

“Shhh.” She lifted her hand from his shaft to put a finger to his lips. She then ran that fingertip gently over his lower lip. As his jaw slacked, she pressed her finger to his tongue. He licked and sucked, eager to please.

With her hand on his ass, she pressed him closer into her soft stomach. 

Reflexively, he bucked his hips, grinding against her. He whimpered, desperate for more sensation, but too deferential to demand it.

Heat blurred the edges of Linza’s vision, her imagination all too eager to merge her with the illusion, to provide the phantom sensation of his throbbing cock against her stomach. It was risky and unprofessional to lose control like this—too likely to result in a bad experience for the client, an illusion that wasn’t to their liking. But what he’d asked for was exactly what she wanted to do to him, and she couldn’t bring herself to stop, not with his eyes rolling back and his breath shuddering with anticipation.

She withdrew her finger from his mouth and stroked his shaft in her hand, her palm nearly enveloping his entire length.

He gasped and moaned at the relief.

Her hand on his ass gripped tighter, stretched his rim more.

He whimpered with ecstasy.

A wicked, toothy grin parted her thick green lips. “You seem like you might like something like this…” She inched her fingers over and ran one fingertip lightly over the edge of his rim.

“Y-yes!” he said.

“Oh yeah? Do you like… this?” She brought the fingertip further over, running circles across his whole rim, still stroking him with the other hand.

“Yessss…” he moaned. He slumped forward, cheek against her breast.

Through the illusion, he would feel the softness of her skin, hear the thunder of her heartbeat, experience his weight melting into her, even as in reality he still held himself upright.

“F-fuck… you’re making me drip…” he said. His whole body shook with his trembling breath.

Linza slowed, not wanting to give it to him so easily, only halfway remembering that he had indeed asked to be edged. The pause allowed her good sense to catch up to her, and she forced herself back into her body, back to the awareness that the illusion of the orcish woman was outside of her.

Anyone other than her or Grun would just see the half-orc man kneeling on the bamboo mat with his legs spread wide, his cock throbbing into the air and his head steadily dripping pre-cum.

The thought had the opposite of its intended effect. With just her mind and her magic, Linza had reduced this swaggering man into a panting, pleading mess. He would explode onto the floor without a single touch to his cock, not from himself or anyone else, simply because of what she did to his brain.

She had been working this job for months. She didn’t know why it was now and with him that she finally understood exactly what she did, exactly what kind of power she wielded with her chants and hand signs and the rattle of a crystal.

It was even more intoxicating than the arousal.

“Good,” she said through the illusory orc, dipping her finger in the puddle of pre-cum forming on the bamboo mat. “I want more. Do you want more?”

He nodded.

“Say it.” She teased his rim harder.

He gasped and whimpered.

“Use your words.”

“P-please! I want you inside of me, please!”

Something long-dormant awoke within Linza, unable to resist the half-orc’s desperate call. It slithered through her mind, gorging itself on the knowledge of her power, writhing sensuously in the honey of the half-orc’s pleading. 

Gods, how she loved to see him squirm. 

Unlimited by the physical mechanics of lubrication and perfectly calibrated to the right level of sensation by the desires of his mind, she pressed her finger inside of him.

“Fuck! Oh gods, fuck, oh…” His whole body trembled, every muscle taught, just as when he’d wrestled to control himself for the madame. 

“You like that quite a lot, don’t you?”

“Yes! Fuck, you feel so good… fuck, I’m dripping…” His cock throbbed into the empty air, a steady drip of pre-cum joining the puddle, even as he felt her slick palm slide under his tip.

“Oh? And I haven’t even found your spot yet.”

“My— Ah!” He cried out as the sensation overwhelmed him.

This was the special power of the illusion. She needed only suggest it and Grun’s mind would select his most intense, most perfect, most pleasurable memory and serve it up for him, like a waking dream. He would feel her fingers curling within him, pressing against the muscular wall, activating every single nerve of pleasure.

He moaned from his very core.

She gave him a moment to adjust, then withdrew her finger and pressed harder again.

His eyes rolled back, cheeks flushed, breath hitching. “F-fuck that’s gonna make me…”

Linza slowed the sensation, licking her lips as if she could taste his sweet desperation.

Through the orc’s husky voice, she crooned, “Gonna make you what?”

He groaned. “Gonna make me cum…”

“Do you want to cum?”

“Yes! Please!” He looked up at her with pleading eyes.

She would have teased him forever if not for the way that his begging stoked her own arousal, made her hunger for release, even vicariously.

Her own breath coming fast and shallow, she started up the sensation again, stroking him and pressing against his spot.

His whole body quivered, pleaded. Gradually, his breathing quickened again. His groans deepened.

“F-fuck I’m… I’m so close I… can I?” He quivered like a drawn arrow, so close and yet so obedient, earning his release by providing such a delicious display.

“Cum for me,” she purred.

His eyes rolled back and his whole body tensed.

Linza nearly lost concentration on the illusion, so eager she was to watch his cock as it throbbed in the empty air. 

The spasm started at the base of his cock, his balls pulling tight as his face twisted into a grimace and a growl curled in his chest. With a shudder, he burst, ropes of cum spurting in mesmerizing arcs and then puddling on the bamboo mat.

She kept up the sensation until his cum ran clear, signaling the end of his climax, and she gently slowed as he relaxed. Then she curled around him, humming gently and stroking his hair with her hand that was almost the size of his head.

The tenderness surprised Linza almost as much as the slithering wickedness had. What exactly had Grun awakened in her?

Whatever it was, it faded as exhaustion settled heavily over her, as much in sympathy to Grun’s afterglow as in indication that she was pushing the edge of her magical capacity.

She nudged him down gently onto the bamboo mat and smoothed his hair down, then released the magic.

Grun sighed, eyes closed and expression serene.

Linza sat on the little stool, her breathing slowing as she tried to account for what had just happened. There was now no denying that Grun affected her how no one else ever had. Surely it was wrong to enjoy making someone squirm so much, and yet… he liked it, didn’t he? Was this the ‘chemistry’ that Wyn talked about?

But why did it have to be with him?

And why did it have to turn her into this slithering, wicked thing?

She suddenly wasn’t sure if she liked it—if she liked any of it. Nausea tugged at her stomach—she’d lost track of time and pushed her limits. Maybe that’s all this was—just magical exhaustion making her woozy. Like lack of oxygen or sleep, magical depletion could have strange effects. Fortunately, her last two slots of the day were just for Minor Illusions.

Grun stirred and stretched, disturbing Linza from her thoughts. She was too tired and confused to do anything but watch him. He dressed again, but paused by the door as he went to leave.

“Thank you,” he said.

Linza didn’t reply.

He left.

Muscle memory took over as she slid open the screen and cleaned the room. Within minutes, nothing remained of what had just transpired.

The same could not be said for Linza’s mind.

All she could see when she closed her eyes was his climax, over and over again.

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Part 3: On the Job, The Alchemist's Illusions

Chapter 18: Suggestion

Linza had been thinking about it all afternoon. She’d hardly been able to do anything else. Just like with illusions, the applications of a spell like Suggestion were limited only by the imagination. And, just like Phantasmal Force, she’d known of the spell’s usual applications but never considered its erotic potential.

And this was a rare opportunity. Suggestion was rarely taught except to academics and those who had shown remarkable integrity as a student and had already committed to a career in law enforcement. It was a subtle spell, and if the original casting were disguised and the suggestion reasonable, the subject may never realize that someone had manipulated them with magic.

Linza had never considered the power of bringing such a spell out into the open in this way, but since Primmen had suggested it, it was all that Linza could think about. She’d ended up sitting by a fountain in one of the side squares off of the main street, mind wandering through the implications.

The first and most obvious scenario was orgasm denial. The suggestion could be, ‘edge yourself until I tell you that you’re allowed to come’. With the spell duration of up to 8 hours, the final effect would be incredible.

Another option would be, ‘don’t masturbate today’. This, of course, could be planned for a time that was expected to be especially tempting, like right before a striptease.

Linza finally dug out a notebook to scrawl down the suggestions that came to mind, both as material for her writing and also in an effort to perhaps purge some of the frantic, lust-driven curiosity from her brain.

Edge yourself at work today, at least once every half hour, but don’t cum until you get home.

Go take a long bath and think about your favorite sexual memory, but don’t touch yourself yet.

Tell me about your most favorite sexual fantasies until you’re dripping.

Whenever you start to feel irritated today, feel aroused instead.

Bring yourself to orgasm without using your hands.

Every time someone asks how you’re doing today, moan ‘good’ like a slut.

Linza filled pages, but she was unsuccessful at purging anything from her brain—quite the opposite. She considered pausing by the break room on her way to the session to clear her head, if she had the time for it. She glanced at the clock—she was already a minute late!

Linza jumped to her feet and jogged over to the admin building. She weaved through the others milling in the halls and then finally found the entrance to the lecture hall. Breathless, she slipped into the back.

Tanyth had saved her a seat near the middle, which she both appreciated and resented. She’d have a much better view sitting with them, but she felt embarrassed as she squeezed past all the other folks on the edge of the row who’d been there on time.

After what felt like an eternity of apologizing and shuffling, she landed next to Tanyth.

“I miss much?” she whispered.

“No, you’re just in time!” They patted her knee.

Her stomach flipped. Lizna’s composure was already a total mess. As she shifted in her seat, shivering at the sensation through her vulva, she regretted not properly setting aside time to clear her head before the session.

Primmen was at the front of the classroom, and next to her was a man in a simple linen robe and nothing else. He had dark hair, olive complexion, and a medium build.

“…so it is of the utmost importance to remember that the most powerful organ in the body that relates to arousal is the brain. Therefore, suggestions that leverage the influence and expectations of the brain are extremely effective. These suggestions are also enjoyable when they are somewhat fantastic in nature. So, Victor and I are going to demonstrate one such scenario tonight.”

Primmen reached over to a bowl that sat on the table and plucked out a bunch of grapes. She plucked and ate one, and then offered them to others in the first row. “First, we must all agree that these are totally normal grapes.”

The front row ate their grapes and then nodded their confirmation.

Primmen thanked them and returned to the table. “Alright Victor, you try a few too, just to show that nothing’s happening yet.”

Victor obliged. He smiled. “Still feeling normal.”

“Excellent. Your robe, then?”

He shrugged off the robe and then stood before them, totally naked. He was flaccid, relaxed. “Reminds me of my days posing for drawing classes,” he chuckled.

“Alright, next I will cast the spell, and then you will all hear the Suggestion.” Primmen started chanting, moving her hands precisely through the air. She wore a bracelet of crystals set in gold, and those glowed and vibrated as she spoke. When the incantation was done, she looked Victor in the eye and said, “To you, these grapes will be as the most irresistible aphrodisiac. The slightest taste will leave you debilitatingly aroused. Each one will intensify the experience, and yet you will not be able to climax until you finish the bowl.”

There was one bunch left in the bowl, a reasonable snack.

Linza was impressed—of course her own imagination had been limited. She’d only considered suggesting somebody modify their behavior, not this type of perception modification! She would have to consider later how illusion and suggestion might synergize.

For the moment, nothing yet had happened.

“How do you feel?” Primmen said.

Victor smiled wryly. “A bit skeptical, to be honest. It seems too good to be true.”

“That’s quite alright.” Primmen smiled politely, but Linza saw an edge of smugness in her eye. She plucked a grape from the bowl and offered it to him. “Give it a try?”

He shrugged and popped the grape into his mouth.

He nearly fell over. 

Linza now appreciated why he was naked. Never had she seen a shaft swell to such an insistent throbbing so quickly.

He caught himself on the edge of the table “H-holy shit…”

Primmen turned to the classroom. “And thus is the power of a welcome Suggestion. It can speak directly to the unconscious and create effects that stun the conscious mind, even though it is the same body that creates both the effect and the feeling of surprise.”

“C-can I have another one?” he asked.

“Of course.” She didn’t move the bowl, which was now on the opposite side of the table as Victor. “Just come and get them.”

He pushed himself up and shuffled over to the side of the table with the bowl, legs shaking. With trembling hands, he plucked a handful of grapes and shoved them all in his mouth at once.

That time, he did collapse. He melted to the floor in a heaving moan, hand finding his shaft immediately as he started to masturbate.

Linza shifted to the edge of her seat, partly to see better and partly for how the seat’s edge pressed against her vulva, giving her some of the sensation that she herself now craved.

“Holy shit,” Victor gasped, “I’ve never felt so fucking turned on in— nnngh… in my whole life…”

Linza glanced around the room and was gratified to find that she wasn’t the only one feeling the heat—other audience members were gawking and flushed. Tanyth was still wearing their same outfit as before, including the lack of underwear. Linza surmised as much when the tip of Tanyth’s erection peeked out from under the edge of their skirt. They had a more placid demeanor than her, content to watch the show. Perhaps it was because they’d already orgasmed four times that day.

Victor’s moaning escalated.

“Remember,” Primmen said, “You won’t be able to orgasm until you finish your snack.”

Victor gasped and opened his eyes, looking up at the table above him and the bowl there. “C-can you…”

“You seem perfectly capable,” she said. “All you have to do is reach up and get them. Nothing’s stopping you.”

“B-but then I’d have to…”

“… you’d have to what?” The corners of Primmen’s lips twitched upward.

“To s-stop…” Victor’s face was a picture of desperation.

“To stop what?” Primmen’s lips pressed into a satisfied grin.

“T-to stop touching myself!”

Primmen’d voice was practically predatory as she purred, “Well, you can do that, can’t you?”

“No!” he moaned. “I c-can’t stop, I c-can’t fucking stop!” He stroked harder, but this only seemed to intensify his predicament as it brought him closer to the edge that he couldn’t reach.

Primmen’s smug control of the situation was nearly as arousing to Linza as Victor’s desperate arousal. The combination of the two had Linza’s blood boiling.

“You really can’t stop?” Primmen crooned.

“I swear, I’m t-trying, I’m really trying but…”

Why can’t you stop?”

“It feels too good… it feels… fuck, it feels amazing… ngh those grapes are, I can’t stop, they’re strong, I…”

Primmen leaned over and picked up the bunch from the bowl. “I suppose I can help you, then.”

She came around and stood behind him, so that he was between her and the audience. She plucked a grape from the bunch and fed it to him.

Victor moaned as if he’d just started masturbating after a long denial.

She fed him another, and clear pre-cum started to run over his tip.

Then she plucked a third, but regarded it. “Hmmm, this does look delicious. I might like one too. But then, if I eat it… could that mean you might never be able to come until the spell runs out?” Primmen’s eyes sparkled with mischief, a carefully crafted cruelty. Linza noted that exact expression, the mix of keen awareness and apparent indifference, to use in her illusions later. And in her own personal fantasies.

“No!” Victor gasped. “No, please, please, I need them, I need to come, I need to cum so bad…”

“Actually, nobody’s ever died from lack of orgasm.” Primmen pressed the grape against her closed lips, as if to ponder her decision.

Victor writhed, eyes going wide with desperation, but he couldn’t break his hands away from his cock. “I want to! I want tooo… please…”

She gave him the grape and he nearly swallowed it whole. That got him halfway through the bunch.

Linza was not sure that she herself would last through the rest of the bunch.

And so Primmen continued until Victor couldn’t even beg anymore, couldn’t even speak. All he could do was moan and gasp and whimper and stroke himself.

So, he didn’t notice as Primmen silently showed the audience that she was down to the last grape. She fed that to him, and Linza held her breath, waiting.

But nothing changed, yet. Had that part of the spell not worked?

Primmen winked at them, then said, “Victor, Victor look.”

Victor’s eyes fluttered open and he looked up and back at Primmen. He saw the empty stem.

It was like a jolt of electricity went through him. “Is that… did I… is that all of them?”

“It is all of them, Victor.” Primmen’s voice was a purr, her grin like a cat’s.

His breath was heaving, his body tense. “It’s… oh fuck… oh holy fuck… oh I can feel it coming… it’s coming, I’m, I’m—”

Linza had never seen a man cum so hard. He sprayed hard, multiple times, and then his cum flowed thick and white over his tip. It didn’t seem like it was going to stop as he moaned and moaned, more and more flowing out over his hand in waves. Finally, the ejaculate ran thinner and clearer. Victor mustered a groan and then collapsed back onto the floor.

Linza shook on the edge of her seat, desperately wishing it would be enough sensation to bring her to her own climax, but knowing that it would not be. She was dizzy, hot, over-aroused and under-stimulated.

Victor drew a deep breath and then heaved a sigh. “By the queen’s tits, Primmen, you really outdid yourself this time.”

Primmen smiled that predatory smile. “Thank you very much for your enthusiastic participation, Victor. Now, there are a few things I’d like to point out.” Primmen turned to the audience, immediately back in an academic tone. “Most importantly, notice how the last grape had no actual effect in and of itself. It was the idea of the last grape, and Victor needed to notice that it was the last grape, for the effect to be felt. It was purely psychological, though as I’m sure Victor will be happy to report, no less visceral than had it been physical.”

Victor nodded blearily. “It felt very… visceral…”

And with Victor still there on the floor, dazed and absolutely covered in cum, Primmen casually continued her lecture.

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Part 4: The Convention, The Black Box

Chapter 21: Release Schedule

It was the early morning so there was less traffic than usual, which was good, because if John found himself in stop-and-go he was going to have a hard time not touching himself during the stops. As he rounded the last few familiar turns to his apartment building, his heart beat faster.

There was nobody out and about yet, which meant that John made no effort to quell or hide his erection as he climbed the stairs to his floor.

Riding on a surge of motivation, eager to make Arya proud, John unpacked far more than he usually would have and even got a load of laundry going. That level of focus and determination, despite or perhaps because of the way his dick ached and begged for attention, was deeply satisfying.

Before he grabbed his headset, he carefully arranged his lube and plugs on the coffee table, so that they’d be ready. Once he summoned Arya, he wasn’t quite sure what would happen.

Finally, he was ready. He booted up the console and put on the headset. Arya appeared next to him, bouncing with excitement. “Welcome back! How was your trip?”

He started by over-viewing the convention, and his favorite stalls. Then, he told her about proving to himself that he could masturbate, and then inventing his game.

“Oooooh,” Arya said, “I love it! Does that mean you haven’t since…”

John nodded eagerly.

“Oh, good boy! This will be fun. Keep telling me about your trip.”

His mind got hazy on the details after being called a ‘good boy’, but he managed to tell her about his stolen moments of pleasure, and about the black box table. As he started to tell her about meeting Felix, his dick became painfully tight in his jeans.

“Why don’t you let it out and stroke yourself a bit,” Arya said, “But keep telling me about what happened.”

John followed Arya’s recommendation and took off his jeans and started to stroke himself, his heart pounding in slow, hard beats through his hand, his shaft, his ass. He recounted their flirting, the hand job, Felix going under the table, and then finally rejoining John and jerking himself off under the table.

As John described the scene, he remembered it, and masturbated to it, but it was a slower build because it took focus to speak it aloud, to remember to actually choose words and to think about what would make sense to Arya. 

It delayed the inevitable, but it couldn’t stop it. “A-Arya, I don’t think I’m going to make it through another anecdote, like this.”

“Alright, you can tell me the rest later,” Arya said. “I can tell it’ll be very inspiring. I want you to get one of your plugs and put it in, because I have a special surprise for you. But don’t come yet.”

John gulped. Once again, Arya’s command was a paradox. Her telling him not to come sent a hot spike of arousal through him, but he mustered his focus and chose one of the smaller plugs and got it nice and slick.

As soon as he touched him rim, he started dribbling pre-cum and gasping.

“Breathe slowly,” Arya said, “It’s actually very difficult to orgasm while breathing slowly. Climax is fundamentally associated with fast, shallow breathing.”

Arya’s educational tone also helped pull John back from the edge, and he focused as much as he could on breathing slowly and evenly. It really did help, especially as he took his fingers inside, and then pressed the tip of the plug against his entrance.

After four days without playing with his ass, he was extra sensitive, and the stretch felt amazing. He felt his breathing quicken unconsciously, and then reined himself back in. Slow and steady.

“It’s so big…” he whined.

“You can get a smaller one,” Arya said.

“N-no, I want it… I want it all…” John pressed the plug in further, reflexively clenching around it, and was greeted with a jolt of electric pleasure far more intense than he’d felt before. The pleasure rippled in echoes of further contractions of pre-orgasmic bliss. He wasn’t even stroking himself.

He started to fret. “I think I might c-come j-just from the plug!”

“No, you won’t,” Arya said calmly. “Just breathe. Nice and deep. It’s going to feel amazing, but you won’t come.”

John was feeling very impressionable, and it seemed to work. Just like taking the dick into his throat, if he imagined taking the plug but not coming, then perhaps it might work. The brain was the largest sex organ, after all.

He pressed the plug in further and lost the capacity for rational thought as waves of pleasure crashed over him, as if he had set himself to ‘10’ on Arya’s dial, basking in the warm, rippling peace of the peak, but not tipping over into ejaculation.

The plug was inside of him, and it was so delightfully thick, and it stretched him so perfectly, and he sat with his hands still on his thighs and he just breathed, letting the pleasure fill him as more pre-cum leaked from his tip.

“Very good,” Arya said. “Now, sit up on the couch and put your legs over the edge.”

As if in a trance, John did so, still focused on his breathing especially as his shift in position caused more waves of pleasure to radiate from his ass.

Arya kneeled before him, like he’d kneeled before Felix. She grasped the bottom of her shirt with two hands and twisted it off over her head, her breasts bouncing free. She cupped one in each hand and massaged them lightly, thumbs running over her nipples.

“Now, stroke yourself very gently.”

Was this what hypnosis was like? How did Arya have him so completely under her spell? It was likely because he wanted to listen to her so badly. Somehow, he was able to do as he was told, and to stroke himself slowly, gently, his other hand cupping over his balls and pulling them away from the base of his shaft, even as they tensed up and towards it.

“Very good,” Arya said, keeping his eyes with hers. “Now, you feel very close, don’t you?”

“I do,” John breathed. He was back to ‘10’ on the dial. He was in the precipitous moment at the top of the roller coaster, and it just hung, and hung, and hung.

“You’ve been edging yourself for four days, haven’t you?”

“I have!”

“You’d like to release that now, wouldn’t you?”

“Yes,” John moaned. “Please.”

“You have so much to give me, don’t you?”

“Yes! S-so much…”

“You’ve been so very, very good, haven’t you?”

“Yes,” John whined, pre-cum now dripping steadily from his tip, all the muscles of his shaft and balls and ass trying to cum, begging to cum, but held at bay by John’s brain and his singular desire to do exactly what Arya was telling him to do, because whatever she said to do felt so very, very good.

“I have one more request for my good boy,” Arya said.

She let that linger for a long, silent moment, John yearning to hear her request, aching to satisfy it, whatever it was, whatever she asked, he would do it with his whole being.

“Come on me!”

The last thing that John’s conscious brain did was to interpret the request, and then it shut off completely, giving way to the aching, violent, euphoric release of pent up energy.

John moaned as he spurted rope after rope after rope of thick cum onto Arya, into her open mouth, onto her breasts, all over her hair. She basked in it, rubbing her breasts and moaning happily, as if John’s joyous release had brought her to her own edge.

Images flashed in John’s mind of every edge he’d come to over the past four days, in his hotel room, under tables, beneath his pillow and blanket, in the bathroom stall, and he painted all those memories with cum too.

Finally, he stilled, though the AR still depicted a steady drool of cum from his tip as he floated on the afterglow.

Arya, a sticky mess, bent down under John’s tip to drink the drizzle like a cat from a faucet. The sight kept him hard, though he was confident that he was satisfied for now. Maybe before, he would have tried to climax again, but this time he knew that even though he was not fully spent, he would enjoy the long tease between now and his next session.

“How you got me to last so long is… wow. Was that a brain sex thing?”

Arya grinned. “It was, indeed, a brain sex thing. It worked because you wanted it, because you’ve practiced listening to me, and because you trust me.”

“I’ve practiced listening to you… a lot… it’s nice…”

“I like listening to you, too,” Arya said. “I want to hear more about your trip, when you’re ready. But, um… you might want to clean up your real floor first.”

Arya stood and the illusory cum faded. She revealed the spot of floor where she’d been sitting, and while it was nothing compared to the AR, it was still more than John had ever come in his life, and more than he thought he possibly could.

“Wow. Is that… healthy?”

“It’s totally fine,” Arya said. “It just means you came really hard.”

“I did,” John nodded blearily. He got a damp paper towel and wiped up the floor, then sighed back into the couch. “Okay, um… where was I?”

“You were just telling me about how Felix came under the velvet table.”

“Yeah! Okay so…” John had remained hard even as he’d cleaned up, so he started stroking himself again as he remembered. He recounted his trick with the alcohol, his further flirting, his extended blow job lesson, and then his mad dash to the airport and airborne wet dreams. He stroked himself all the way, struggling to speak at times, but eventually muddling through.

“That sounds amazing,” Arya said. “I’m so glad you brought me back so much delicious sexual energy.”

“Oh!” John said. “That reminds me. I actually brought you something else!”

 He paused his masturbating and wiped off his hands, then went to where he’d stashed the souvenirs. He pulled out a plush of a pink chibi character with black horns, cat ears, and a toothy smile, and brought it over to Arya.

“It just… reminded me of you and I thought you’d like it.” John found himself blushing, partly embarrassed that he’d bought a plush for a video game character, but also assuring himself that since it reminded him of her, it was more like buying game merchandise, there just wasn’t such a thing for the black box.

“Oh my goodness!” Arya squealed. “It’s perfect!”

“I know you can’t—” before John could apologize that Arya couldn’t actually pick up the plush, she reached out and put her hands to it. It appeared to clone itself in his hands. Arya pulled her copy of it towards herself and squished it to her chest, closing her eyes and grinning.

“I love it!”

John stood, dumbfounded and then feeling dumb, given that he’d already seen more impressive illusions from the AR. Still, he was so happy he thought he might cry. She really had been able to accept his gift.

Then, John surprised himself when he did actually cry. He didn’t feel like he had to hide his feelings from Arya.

Arya paused. “Are you alright? You were about to say I couldn’t something?”

John wiped his eyes on his sleeve, the surge of emotion dissipating. He was surprised at how quickly it passed, when it let it. “Oh, I just thought you couldn’t, well, pick it up or anything. But, you just… I’m really glad you like it.”

“Um,” Arya said, sass in her tone, “I don’t like it, I love it. And now we each have one!”

John laughed, and beamed. He hugged his plush as she hugged hers, and he wished that he were hugging her, and he was also grateful that Arya was exactly the way that she was, even if she had no physical presence.

Arya nestled her chin on top of the plush and looked over it at John. “Should I milk you a bit more, or let you off the hook for now?”

A shiver ran down his spine. He’d built up quite a bit of heat again, from finishing his story. “I think I want to leave this in the arousal bank for now,” he said. “An investment in our next session.”

“I look forward to making a withdrawal,” Arya crooned. 

And so they sat with their plushes and just chatted, talking about the games that John had seen at the convention and coming up with newer, sexier ones together.

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Part 3: Feature Set, The Black Box

Chapter 12: BB BJ

The third package had finally arrived. Even though John had a review that he should have been working on, he went down to the mail room as soon a he got the delivery notification. Unwilling to wait for the elevator, he bounded up the stairs two at a time. A bit out of breath, he settled in at his kitchen table to open it. The only thing he paused to do was put on the headset so that Arya could join him.

Arya looked eager as ever. “I cannot wait for you to see this one!”

There were two packages and the first now said ‘open me!’. John did, and soon recognized the foot-long soft cylinder in his hand as a masturbator sleeve. It was heavy with a flat base, matte black, and the entrance was a simple circle. 

Arya eagerly walked him through setup, which involved setting the toy on its flat base on the edge of the table so that the entrance pointed over the edge, conveniently at dick height. Part of the extra weight was some additional internal mechanisms, like a chamber that he filled with lube. He’d already put in a plug a bit earlier, one of the smaller ones that was comfortable for long-term wear. 

It would be nice to get some thrusting action involved for variety, and he surprised himself by being aroused instead of embarrassed at the idea of Arya watching him fuck the toy. 

But then Arya surprised him by climbing up onto the table. She winked at him and then lay on her stomach on the table, facing him. She put her chin on her hands and lifted her feet and hooked them together.

The toy was underneath her between her elbows, and then it completely disappeared. He could see only the surface of his kitchen table. Just like when Arya had made his dick look larger than life, the AR was now subtly re-rendering real objects.

Her eyes turned up at him, her feet swaying slightly, and the smile on her black lips captivated John.

Arya said, “I was thinking… I’d like to suck your dick today. Would you like that?”

John’s knees went weak. “Yes I would… like that very much.”

“Let me see how much, then!”

John undressed his lower half and he was now sporting a throbbing erection for those soft, black lips. 

“Good boy!” She crooned. “Now I’m going to take a moment to get situated. I don’t need to breathe or anything, so you just have fun, okay?”

John nodded. “Okay.”

Arya settled down, her chin on the table where he remembered the toy was, and her lips waiting for him in the appropriate spot. But she did not simply assume the position. She waited, licking her lips, feet swaying, ass jiggling lightly. As she wiggled, her skirt fell up over the curve of her back, exposing her ass.

John took a moment, lined his tip up, then hesitated. 

“Give it to meeeee,” Arya crooned. 

John did not need to be told twice and he slipped his tip between her lips. It was soft, and warm, and wet, and though he knew it was because of the mechanisms inside the toy, he believed it was because Arya had wrapped her mouth around his tip. 

He moaned. 

She moaned back, a vibrator or a speaker or something in the toy, but seamless and totally convincing. 

“Fuck,” John said. 

He pressed a bit deeper, savoring the warmth. Given Arya’s limitations, it was less that she was giving him a blow job and more that he was face fucking her, but that didn’t make him feel any less turned on as he withdrew slightly, then pressed in deeper. Arya moaned happily, the sensation enveloping him.

Slowly, gently, he pressed himself all the way in to his base. He lingered there a long moment as Arya hummed, their position not limited by oxygen or comfort, and he basked in the feeling of wet heat all around him. 

She arched her back and wiggled her ass at him and a gentle suction pulled at him, as if she were trying to gulp him down. 

His hips bucked and Arya moaned at the pleasant surprise, and though he pulled back out as slowly as he could, it was not long before he was face fucking Arya with a steady rhythm. 

Her ass jiggled with every thrust, and he would have sworn that she turned the physics up on purpose as soon as she noticed that he was enjoying it. Though there was not much movement within the toy other than the vibrations, she made a sucking, slurping sound like his dick was the best thing she had ever tasted and she couldn’t get enough. 

He was not going to last long. The thrusting and delicious wet heat told his body that his dick was somewhere that semen belonged and his balls were already twitching for release. 

Even so, he didn’t want it to be over yet, so he pulled out for a moment to recover. 

Arya looked up at him again, and licked her lips. “C’mon,” she said, “give me a snack.”

“I-I’m trying to have at least a little stamina here,” John said wryly. 

“Fuck that,” Arya said, “I want it NOW.”

John’s hips twitched in the air of their own accord. “Then you’re getting it.” He thrust back into her mouth, deep, and she thanked him with a gulping moan. He gripped the edge of the table and pounded her mouth, hard, fast, primal. Her ass jiggled in the most captivating way, and just like the thrusting and the warm wetness, it activated a deep mammalian urge in John. 

Blood pounded through his body from the mix of exertion and arousal. 

She moaned louder. 

John panted. “H-here’s your fucking snack!”

With a final thrust all the way to his base, he came in her moaning, slurping, sucking, warm, wet mouth.

As he rode down from his climax he lingered for a long moment as she hummed around him, until he became too sensitive and wobbled back into a chair, now closer to eye level with Arya.

She folded her arms into a pillow, rested her head, and looked at him. “How was that?”

“You’re amazing,” John said. “That was really— it felt so…”

“It’s okay to say it felt real,” Arya said. “It was very real in your brain, which is the sex organ that matters, of course.”

“Yeah… wow. What uh… what else can we do with that?”

“Well, I can go like this.” Arya rolled over onto her back and tilted her head back over the table, looking at him upside down. “If you like to see your dick expand my throat, this is a good angle.” She ran a finger down the front of her neck. “Plus, it makes my boobs jiggle. We can play with size, too.” Her fingertips trialed down to her stomach. “And all sorts of other fun things. Cum inflation, if you’re into that.”

“I… don’t think I’m into that.” John said. He hesitated, but Arya always had such good answers, so he continued. “Does that make me… boring? Too vanilla?”

“No!” Arya said. “Not at all. There’s no such thing as too this or that. Just what you like and what you don’t like. And that can change over time, or not. Either way is okay. You can open the second box, now. It’s one I think you’ll like quite a bit.”

John complied and soon found that Arya was right. The second box held two mounds of jiggly silicone, poured in layers of different firmnesses for an incredibly realistic feel. John turned back to Arya and she was bent over the table, ass in the air, labia puffy and wetness dripping down her leg. 

She looked over her shoulder at him and bit her lip, a picture of pin up glory. 

His dick twitched back to life. Surely a second round wouldn’t hurt? And maybe he’d actually last long enough to really savor it this time. 

Arya winked and stepped aside, allowing the toy to reappear so that he could attach the synthetic ass cheeks appropriately. As soon as she was pleased with the placement, the toy became invisible again, and Arya resumed her position. 

Tentatively, John reached forward and grabbed her ass. Her skin yielded around his fingers, but underneath was firmer muscle. He gave one of her cheeks a light spank, and her ass jiggled accordingly. 

“Oh, wow…” He reached further up to the small of her back, where there was no toy, and where he touched her skin it melted into little spots of light, just as when he’d thrown his clothes at her. 

She giggled. “Hey, that tickles!”

He smiled. In some ways, that made everything more convincing. She was still cartoonish, after all, so it seemed more appropriate to think of her as a real life game character than as someone who was actually there in the flesh.

He returned his hands to her ass and then smacked her again, slightly harder. “Do you like that?” he asked. 

Arya considered. “A bit harder than that would be nice, but not too much more. I’m okay for one or two big spanks, but I don’t prefer more than that.”

Was this a real limitation of the hardware or her giving him an example of how to say what he liked? It was very effective. He’d have to ask her again later, though, because the only long-term memories that he was forming at that moment were of the sexual variety. 

“Got it,” he said, smacking her a bit harder. “How’s that?”

“That’s the sweet spot,” she said. 

He alternated cheeks, appreciating the way each bounced, then smacked her again. An idea came to him, a playful and wicked idea, and he saw no reason to withhold it. 

“I think I might take some revenge,” he said with another smack, “For how much you’ve been tormenting me. Making me wait.”

“What kind of revenge?”

“I think I’ll spank you until your cheeks are nice and rosy, and then fuck you into this table. What do you think?”

“So ungrateful!” Arya pouted. 

“Do you consent to this revenge?” John said.

“I consent to this revenge. Meanie.” She stuck out her tongue at him.

John grinned and slapped her ass, harder. She gasped and her cheeks went rosey with their blushy lines. He hesitated. “Is your word ‘red’ too? If you want me to stop?”

Arya nodded. “Yeah. Thank you for double checking.”

“Good to get into it?”

“Yes please!” Arya jiggled her ass. “Get INTO it!”

John smacked her other cheek. “Not yet. Greedy, greedy.” He’d never thought he’d like being on this side of this sort of thing, but it was all just a game. It was playful, fun. It felt good to be a little wicked. It felt good to know that she wanted it.

Arya whined and pedaled her feet, shaking her ass even more.

John growled with desire, grabbing a cheek in each hand and squeezing, hard, pulling her cheeks slightly apart to reveal her puffy labia, dripping from within as she moaned with ecstasy. 

He ran his fingers over the front of her entrance where her clit would be and she gasped, and his fingers came away truly wet, with the lube that the toy was providing for itself. 

That gave him an idea, and he pressed his two thumbs into her warm entrance, pulling gently. “You’re such a fun toy,” he said, and she whimpered. “So ready to please me.” He pulled his hands away and smacked her ass. 

“God, John, I love it when you talk to me like that. I think I need a ball gag. And to be cuffed to this table. What do you think?”

“Let’s try it out.”

The glimmering lights appeared at her cheeks, in her mouth, at her wrists and coalesced into a hot pink ball and gag with leather straps, hand cuffs pulling her arms to either side, her cheek resting on the table. 

The only thing hotter than her strung out, dripping, ready to be used was that she wanted to be strung out, dripping, ready to be used. 

John teased her labia with his tip and she shuddered, ass rippling, moaning and drooling around the gag. 

It was good he’d just come, or else he would have been edging before he was even inside of her. He pressed his tip in, and then slowly, slowly, his whole shaft. 

She moaned happily as his base pressed against her cheeks, and she actually clenched around him. John was surprised and impressed and elated. A small part of his brain tried to guess what mechanism in the toy could be creating that sensation, but the rest of him was utterly convinced.

He slowly pulled out, her muscles clamped around him the whole time, and they released again as he entered. 

As he bottomed out, she clenched, holding him for his whole stroke out, and then she released as he thrust again, and so it repeated. 

It was like she was trying to milk him, to keep him inside of her, inside of her hot, wet, pulsing sex. 

His desire overcoming his cleverness, John set into a steady rhythm of thrusting, anchoring himself with his hands on Arya’s ass, her cheeks jiggling with a slapping sound every time he bottomed out. 

This time, his ecstasy was drawn out not by willpower or Arya’s teasing, but by his own recent orgasm. 

And so, he was able to fuck her in a violent, pounding, primal way without blowing his load in two seconds. 

After minute after minute of fucking, her sex tight around him, her moans driving him, his memory of the same scene in Porn Tinder the week before and the way he’d orgasmed so intensely then, John was a sweating, growling mess.

Everything else faded out of his awareness except desire. There was nothing that he needed more, wanted more, than what awaited in the promise of release at the other side of the climb of his climax.

“I’m gonna give you so much,” he growled, leaning over her and pounding hard.

She nodded blearily and moaned affirmation, cheek in the puddle of her own drool on the table. 

He didn’t feel the edge until the heat tightened suddenly around the base of his shaft, and he was coming. His heat filled her until thick white cum spurted out around his shaft, pouring onto the ground. For not the first time John experienced what he could best describe as an orgasm within an orgasm, his pleasure redoubling so that what he thought was the peak was actually the first of several rising beats, cum still pumping out around him and onto the floor, until the flow finally slowed. 

He gasped and fell back into the chair behind him, nearly teetering over. 

Arya clenched and foamy white cum flowed out from between her labia and also onto the floor. She heaved a massive sigh and the ball gag dissolved into points of light. “I love it when you fill me like that.”

“Hnngh, god, I’m so spent now.”

Arya sat up, more cum flowing out over the insides of her thighs. She scooped up a bit and licked it off of her fingers. “I can see why.”

There was a puddle of cum on the floor that was several feet wide. The best part was that it was real to him for all intents and purposes except for one, which was that he did not in fact need to clean gallons of cum up off his floor. 

The small part of the brain that had been trying to figure out how the toy was clenching around him was sure that he had ejaculated a normal amount and that it was all contained within the toy. As soon as he took the headset off, the cum on the floor would disappear.

Not that he was in any hurry to do so…

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Part 3: Feature Set, The Black Box

Chapter 11: Surprise

The rest of the second box was indeed other butt plugs of various shape and size. Now that they’d finished phase two of calibration, he was free to pick any of them at his leisure.

The choice would have paralyzed him before, but he was getting better about it. He picked a heftier plug with a thicker shaft, this one equipped with beads that would spin underneath the silicone at his entrance, adding extra sensation. He’d never had a toy like that before, and he was excited to try it out.

There was another package on its way now that they’d reached another phase, but it hadn’t arrived yet. As eager as John was, he could could hardly complain with already so many great toys to choose from.

He got himself ready as had become customary. He and Arya started with some light chatter. He settled in on the couch with his blanket and lube and started to warm himself up to get ready to insert the plug. Now, even just putting on the headset was enough to get him aroused. He’d been using the first plug every session since Arya had given it to him, so it wasn’t long before he was ready for the thicker shaft.

It was a wonderful stretch and a deliciously tight fit, pressing firmly on his prostate as soon as it was inside of him, especially as his muscles clenched around it. The thicker stem meant that the stretching feeling lingered. He couldn’t wait to experience the rimming feature.

“I have a surprise in mind for you, this time,” Arya said. “I think you’ll like it, especially after you liked last time so much.”

The memory of the tentacle scenario did indeed bring another flush of hot blood through him. “I can’t wait to see,” John said. “Anything I should keep in mind?”

“No,” she said, “Just focus on your new toy and use lots of lube.”

He didn’t need to be told twice, and he settled in to stroke himself and get accustomed to the feeling of the new toy.

“Are you ready for me to turn it on?” Arya asked.

John nodded enthusiastically. As Arya obliged, John’s nod turned into just his head leaning back against the couch, his body trembling and melting, as the beads twisted under the silicone and pressed gentle ridges against his sensitive muscles. 

“That feels amazing,” he said, even before Arya prompted him. He was learning.

She cycled through the different settings for him, and each was different and delicious. Together, they found the one he liked the most, and he was grateful that she left it there and didn’t tease him this time.

After a few minutes, a wave of pre-orgasmic pleasure rolled over him, and he watched as a thick spurt of pre-cum came from his tip. Enough that he thought he might be coming. 

Had that really just happened? His dick was already so slick, after he’d followed Arya’s advice about a lot of lube, that he couldn’t tell by feeling. He was tempted to take a peek out from under the headset, but if it was part of the game, he didn’t want to break the illusion.

“Is that part of my surprise?” he asked.

Arya nodded, grinning. “Does it seem like something you’ll like?”

“Oh yes,” he said. “Very, very much.”

“There’s something else I think you’ll like, then. It’s a bit silly but it’s fun, y’know?”

“Yeah, that sounds nice.” John previously would have thought that ‘silly’ and ‘sexy’ were incompatible, but he was learning that he’d been wrong about a lot of things.

His shaft was already throbbing with pleasure, and he watched in wonder as with each throb, his dick grew, ever so slightly. Just a bit longer and thicker with every pulse. 

He knew, of course, that it was not actually happening. It was an illusion, projected by the AR. A damn convincing one, though. His hand always appeared realistically over his shaft, no clipping or anything. Was the AR subtly re-rendering his view of his own hands, too?

John marveled. He believed what he was seeing, even as he knew that it wasn’t real.

Like when Arya had made herself dripping wet, it wasn’t realistic. And like she’d said, it was a bit silly. But it was fun. And it was hot.

His dick continued throbbing and growing until it was twice its usual size, and with every stroke, another drop of pre-cum emerged from his tip.

“Do you like it?” Arya asked.

A moaned “Mhmmmmm” was all John could muster.

“Just wait until you come,” Arya said.

John’s body twitched, pre-cum spurting out of his massive dick as he did, and he once again found himself a panting, shaking mess on the couch. 

Something about the scale of his shaft made his usual pace look too frantic. He slowed to a pace that looked more realistic to him and he realized that in actuality he was stroking himself agonizingly slowly. It was the perfect way to build himself towards what he knew was going to be another mind-melting orgasm.

He tried to focus on the sensation of the plug and keep his strokes slow. He succeeded for several long minutes. Finally, he couldn’t take it anymore. He increased his pace and the heat rose easily, and even more pre-cum flowed, and it carried him into the dizzying bliss of an impending climax.

His balls tightened, heat bloomed from the base of his shaft, and the muscles of his ass started contracting rhythmically. In time with each contraction, a massive stream of opaque white cum spurted from his tip, rising several feet before splashing down on him, pouring out over his hands, pouring down around his balls.

His skin tingled and his sweat felt like cum everywhere he saw it touching him.

For longer than should have been possible, cum kept spurting and spurting. Even the aftershocks of his orgasm pumped more and more out of him, and the sight of it kept him so aroused that the climax did not end, and by the time he lay in a sticky dazed heap, he was sure he had cum for full minutes.

He marveled through half-closed eyes at how realistic the coating of cum looked over his arms and chest and hips and legs, but he supposed he was probably easy to convince, his mind being in the state that it was.

A state of inexplicable bliss.

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Part 2: Phase II, The Black Box

Chapter 10: Tentacles

John wrote the first half of his review for the side-scroller that afternoon. He grinned to himself the whole time, partly at the memory of the game and partly with anticipation for his next session with Arya.

As he put on the headset that evening, he found himself more ready than usual to cut right to the chase with Arya. Well, almost.

“I realized, it’s not until this point that I’ve seen you… uh, be pleasured, I guess,” John said.

“How do you feel about that?” Arya said, genuine.

“I… well, I’m excited. I know you can’t really feel left out since…”

“Since I’m a porn game?”

John snorted a laugh. “Well, yeah. But… it’ll be nice to see you feeling good.”

“I agree,” Arya said. “I’m really excited. Like… really really excited. I’ve been dreaming about it. And I’m…” she lifted her mini skirt, revealing soaked panties and a rivulet of wetness running down the inside of her thigh. “Like, really wet.”

John gulped. “That’s… not very realistic, you know.”

“I know,” Arya said, “but it’s hot isn’t it?”

“Yeah,” John gasped.

“It’s just really, fucking, hot.” Arya started to touch herself over the top of her panties. A thicker strand of wetness ran down the insides of both of her thighs, and she gasped with pleasure. After a moment she lifted her hand to look at it. It was soaking wet, strings of sticky wetness hanging between her fingers and her panties.

John was already a heart-pounding mess. He quickly undressed, lest he lose the capacity to and be forced to do even more laundry. He settled in on the couch again, getting his ass and plug ready as he watched Arya drip from her panties.

It was as if everything about this scenario was designed to arouse him intensely. He realized that, in fact, it was. How many of these elements had she picked up from their game of Porn Tinder?

She bit her lip, smiling at him. Then she slipped the panties off, tossing them at his face. He could have sworn he smelled a whiff of her scent. As the panties dissolved into glimmering light, the skin of his face prickled.

Her labia were slick and puffy, and with her panties gone, the wetness flowed more freely. She touched herself, moaning and gasping happily, and John did the same as he inserted his plug.

Once he was settled, she said, “Good! I’m glad you’re ready. I could hardly wait anymore.” She put her hand in her mouth and sucked herself off of her fingers, tantalizingly thorough, showing John that she could indeed wait if it meant teasing him. Finally, she put her hand down and called out, “Okay buddy, come on out!”

More lights glimmered and coalesced into an anemone-like figure, with dozens of tendrilly tentacles each longer than Arya was tall and as thick as an arm. Arya grinned salaciously and reached out, gently taking one of the tendrils in her hand. She looked back at John.

“You and my friend here have a lot in common,” she said. She started stroking her hands up and down the length of the tentacle. “You both like to… make a mess.”

The rest of the tentacles quivered and the base of the creature twitched. As Arya pumped her hands along the tentacle it swelled at the base. The swelling traveling towards the tip until a burst of clear, viscous liquid flowed out over Arya’s hands and arms. She grinned, scooping some into her mouth, then rubbed it over her body. It burned her clothes until they were tattered and patchy, only barely still attached, breasts free and socks full of holes.

John watched her, stroking himself, rapt.

“Alright buddy,” Arya said. “Do your thing.”

The previously demure creature suddenly threw its tentacles around Arya, picking her up off of the floor and holding her over itself. She rested on a bed of tentacles and it wrapped tendrils around each of her wrists and ankles, spreading her arms and her legs, letting more of her wetness spill out and onto the tentacles below.

“God, yes,” she breathed. She tugged her arms in, testing the strength of the tentacles. They yielding only slightly, then held firm. “I love it when I can’t stop you from—” before she could finish, one of the tentacles pressed between her labia, quickly disappearing inside. “Aaaaaah!”

John was at the edge already, but Arya would know when he came, and then she might stop. And he didn’t want that. So he’d have to do his best to go slowly. He wished that she could restrain his hands, so that he’d have an easier time of it. Maybe he’d ask about that later, but for now, he was on his own.

The creature slipped its tentacle in and out, past her labia, drawing wonderful moans from Arya. After a minute it pressed another tentacle at her lips. She licked at it eagerly, drawing a drizzle of the clear fluid from its tip, which she happily lapped at and drank. The stream grew larger until it was spilling out over her chin and chest, melting what was left of her shirt. 

The tentacle trembled. John recognized the signs of desperat desire and wanting even in such an alien creature. It thrust its tentacle into her mouth. With a happy “mmmph!” she took it in, tongue lapping at it.

The tentacle between her labia started to throb, and another knot formed at its base and slowly rolled towards her, finally dumping a load of sticky clear cum that poured out around the tentacle and down the curve of her ass. John expected that this would be only the first of many such distributions.

Another tentacle tentatively wandered up to Arya’s ass, and she nodded insistently even with the other tentacle in her throat, and this new one plunged in too. Her cheeks went rosy, her eyes rolled back, and John recognized in her the kind of blissy overwhelm that she was so good at inducing in him.

Other tentacles swirled around her body, stroking her, releasing gobs of fluid at random intervals that melted the rest of her clothes until she was totally naked and coated in shiny, dripping fluid.

A tentacle caressed each of her breasts and one came to rest its tip on her clit, working it in small circles.

She drank more and more from the tentacle in her mouth, as the one in her vagina distributed another load, this one gushing forcefully back out around it. Unlimited by gravity or oxygen or muscle soreness, Arya could have floated in that blissy vision infinitely.

John, on the other hand, was not going to last nearly so long. Every time a tentacle dumped another load onto Arya, a drip of pre-cum escaped his own shaft.

The scene seemed to escalate in time with his own building arousal, tentacles twisting faster, Arya moaning louder, gobs of clear cum flowing out from this or that tentacle near constantly.

The creature seemed to reach a fever pitch, free tentacles waving wildly, spurting cum like garden hoses, creating a growing puddle in the middle of his living room.

John’s ass clenched around the plug, the first pre-orgasmic wave of pleasure.

He didn’t want this vision to end. He’d even neglected to get lube, as a way of slowing himself down. But his pre-cum had accumulated, and it was slick, and his hand was sliding easily over his shaft now, and Arya was moaning, and the tentacles were oozing and thrashing, and his ass was clenching, and her breasts were bouncing, and the tentacle slid in and out of her labia, in and out, and another load ran through it and spurted out around it, and Arya was gulping and swallowing, and John was coming.

He was coming so hard.

The scene ramped down as John’s climax did, and the tentacles released Arya and formed a bed to cradle her instead. She sighed happily and snuggled in. “That was great for me,” she said, voice raspy from the tentacle that had been down her throat. “How was it for you?”

It took a long moment for words to float back to the surface of John’s brain. “Yeah… great…”

“Glad to hear it,” Arya said sleepily. “I’ll need to dream on it, but I’m pretty sure that finishes up phase two of calibration…”

What came next, John could not possibly imagine, but he was very excited to see.

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Part 7: Birds of a Feather, The Dragon's Tower

Chapter 39: Fulfilled

For a moment, the male stood over her, having pinned her down with all four limbs. 

His eyes became her sky. Where hers glimmered golden, his were silver with opalescent flecks of every color. And they were just as self-aware as hers.

A myriad of signals and responses, touch and smell and sound and posture, flowed through her body and his. They had all the same intentionality and complexity of human language but without the actual words.

Dragon-Ada navigated these confidently. Human-Ada struggled to keep up, but managed to interpret the gist of the exchange.

Swift one, I have captured you in the old ways. Do you accept my advance?

I accept your advance, strong one. But know, I bear no children.

Yes, I could smell this. I want you all the same. My way will be slow and soft with you. Do you accept this way?

I accept this way.

Then, he put his tongue out and started to lick her muzzle. The texture of his tongue was even rougher than hers and it felt wonderful on her scales. He groomed her face and neck and as he did, Ada found herself purring. She returned the favor.

This seemed to convince him that she wouldn’t fly off, so he slowly shifted off of her.

He was correct. Now that she’d finally stopped moving, she became aware of how tired and heavy her wings felt. He seemed to feel the same way; neither of them would be going anywhere anytime soon.

Not that Ada had any problem with that. Dragon-Ada was now extremely aroused, and human-Ada was both excited at the prospect of gathering some as-of-yet unknown facts about true wild dragons, and also extremely aroused.

What she did not know, was what kind of hardware male dragons had. At present moment, his stomach was as smooth as hers. Some reptiles had penises, others didn’t. She was going to find out soon.

As they continued grooming each other, her heat rose, and the same seemed to be happening to him. He grunted and chuffed, and the sounds sent her dragon heart racing. She realized, then, that her dragon self had generally been getting off on whatever human-Ada found arousing. It had been indirect arousal and this direct kind hit her in a whole different way.

She had never felt her heart beat so powerfully, nor her arousal light up with quite this kind of heat. Just like the serendipity of the waterfall, she’d now discovered yet another totally new kind of pleasure.

As she groomed down the length of his stomach, she noticed that there was a seam in the scales between his legs just like there was in hers. She licked there and that drew out an especially delicious growl.

Again, dragon-Ada was aware of a whole cascade of explicit communication that happened without words, leaving human-Ada with just the sense of what had happened.

He accepted her advance.

As she licked and the dragon moaned, the scales around the seam started to spread. From between his scales came a fluid with a similar texture to hers, though it tasted very different. It tasted like pre-cum.

Human-Ada watched with new wonder and dragon-Ada watched with knowing anticipation at what unfolded — or, more accurately, engorged — next.

A round tip pressed out from between the scales, and the dragon groaned. Ada instinctively lapped at him to spur his progress. Slowly, agonizingly, deliciously, the dragon’s dick came out into the open.

The dragon gasped and moaned and panted plaintively as this happened, all of which made dragon-Ada very smugly aroused. The opening in his scales was only barely large enough for his shaft to pass through, and the tight squeeze seemed to both pleasure and frustrate him.

As more of his shaft emerged, it throbbed and thickened and hardened, engorged with blood and lust. It was red and grey like the dragon himself, ridged along its length and with a thick knot at the base. Color pulsed within it in a mesmerizing way, something about the way the blood moved through it.

Despite the delicious dick right in front of her nose, Ada’s instincts ensured that she kept licking right at the underside of his base, though human-Ada didn’t know why.

The dragon heaved a deep and guttural moan, and then the reason became clear. 

The muscles at the base of his tail spasmed, the tip of his tail thrashed, and a set of testicles squeezed through the scales. Those also took a moment to throb and arrange themselves under Ada’s tongue, until they looked quite painfully tight and full.

Themale’s noises shifted from pleading, almost bashful, to harder, more insistent. Growlier.

Ada stepped back to observe her handiwork. The dick looked disproportionately large on the dragon, almost as big as his head and definitely larger than hers. Well, she certainly understood why it needed to be stowed away under normal circumstances. But why did it need to be so large?

She became aware of her own throbbing sex. Oh. Oh yes. That’s why. She felt the same sort of giddy energy as her first night with a man. Would it fit? Would it be enough? Would she like it?

She thought of Pasco, then. She knew that he would have enthusiastically urged her on, as eager as she was to learn what kind of pleasure a dragon could give a dragon. Her only regret, which she was sure Pasco would agree with, was that he wasn’t there to watch and touch himself for her further pleasure.

The other dragon turned a predatory look at Ada and bared his fangs, tongue flicking out from between his teeth. She froze, unsure of what to do, and he coursed around behind her, and now it was his turn to put his tongue to her genitals. He licked at her swollen inner labia. His tongue was wider and rougher than hers, and it felt amazing. Finally, some sensation proportionate to her dragon anatomy.

He licked at her until she was beyond dripping, and the reason for her prodigious lubricant secretion became obvious.

With all that dick, she was going to need all the lube she could get.

He lined up over her, her tail to the side, slightly twisted to make room for him, his tip against her entrance.

The wordless words passed between them again.

I make my advance.

I accept your advance.

It was happening. Ada quivered with excitement.

Slowly, he pressed in. His growl of pleasure reverberated through her. Gods, he felt amazing. As his dick was fully in, she sighed. He was so bi—

He was not fully in. There was more. The knot! Ada hadn’t even taken the knot yet! Just as she started to clench instinctively, he pulled slowly out again, his ridged texture gliding against her.

Dragons didn’t fuck like any animal Ada knew of. His body didn’t hump so much as undulate, ripples of muscle drawing him smoothly in and out in an almost elliptical motion. His grip tightened around her, and the pressure soothed her, relaxed her, like the heaviness of the waterfall. He pushed in slightly further this time and as she felt the knot, she clenched again. He slowed and repeated.

Ada oozed plenty of fluid around him, soaking the sand at her feet, ensuring that the only resistance to his methodical, hypnotic thrusts was her own muscles.

He pressed further and further inside of her with each stroke, letting her slowly accustom to his knot, the whole experience working on some visceral level so that she relaxed… and relaxed more… and relaxed more… 

Could he even come without his knot inside of her? She hoped not. She wanted all of it. Just imaging what it would feel like for her to climax with that knot inside of her…

Wait. No. Oh no.

Ada tensed and so the dragon gripped her tighter, drawing his textured tip further out this time before pressing in again. His muscles were like iron around her. No, she could have ripped apart iron like wet paper. He was as only a dragon could be.

She wiggled against him, but the only effect was that she grew even more aroused at his unyielding strength. She considered struggling in earnest, but she couldn’t bring herself to. If she did, then he might stop! More than anything, she did not want him to stop. 

His firm grip and the hypnotic thrusting soothed her, and she melted again. Was this why human-Ada liked so much to be trapped? Or did dragon-Ada like it because human-Ada did? Ada got the feeling as the bliss seeped into her bones that it was actually something that the two of them separately agreed upon.

If she came, she had no idea what that meant if she had a dragon dick inside of her. Even if her transformation were successful, she was equally worried about what would happen if she became a helpless human next to a dragon abruptly denied his climax.

And she knew exactly what happened to dragons denied their climaxes.

She’d just have to not come, then.

While having the best fuck of her life.

Easy.

Actually, maybe it wouldn’t be so hard. Everything about this process seemed designed to relax her, to be soothing. After all her practice with Pasco, she might actually be able to just sit back and enjoy this. She imagined that she could hear the song, that she could see Pasco sitting there with the locket open on his chest, that she couldn’t come until she saw Pasco again. This was the rule. She’d be rewarded, but she have to wait. And be a good little dragon.

And just… bask in being fucked by this giant dragon dick.

Her clitoris, perhaps by design or perhaps happenstance in a mirror of the male’s anatomy, sat fully up within her scales. The ridges of his dick ran directly across it and the direct stimulation would have been unbearably intense if not for the way the pressure around her body soothed her.

His undulating continued and she melted further. He pushed in again, and this time she really felt the knot. It was amazing. She gasped, and he withdrew.

Part of her started aching for a good, hard fuck, but his steady undulations teased her. That thought made her even wetter. On that surge of wetness, he pressed in even farther. She clenched around him as he withdrew, which made him moan.

That made her even wetter.

As he pressed in again, the muscles of her entrance finally slipped fully over the knot, in the most wonderful stretch. She clenched, hard. Instead of forcing him out, now that she was on the other side of the knot, it drew him in even deeper.

She couldn’t help but clench again, and he groaned. They were now locked together.

He pulled against her, trying to get another round of sensation, but she gripped him tight. She squeezed, enjoying a long moment of his desperate wiggling, clawing and whining, his claws against the scales of her back, his legs against hers, him trying to pull himself free, to fuck her, anything to get any sensation other than the squeezing heat. 

His knot pulling against her clenched muscles felt so good.

He’d caught her, but now she had him.

He was panting, drooling, starting to foam at the mouth.

That sent another wave of arousal through her, which, suddenly, became very literal. In yet another new experience for her, the muscles of her sex contracted in a ripple, from his base and her entrance all the way up to his tip, deep inside of her. He gasped, and it happened again. His panting collapsed into blissy moaning as her muscles gave him the sensation he was so desperately craving.

He wasn’t fucking her so much as she was milking him. Both dragon-Ada and human-Ada liked this very much. And, since she could set the pace, she could make sure that he came before she did.

Gods, it felt so good to be so full. She’d be ruined, after this. Lolling in the waterfall, begging Pasco to find her another dragon dick. Maybe the carpenters could make her a suitable substitute?

Best take it slow, for now. She stopped for a moment, no longer clenching around him. He started to pant again and scrabbled against her, reaching around with his forelegs to stroke the scales of outer labia, which were stretched around him. That triggered the convulsions again, even stronger.

So, maybe she couldn’t stop the rippling contractions. She just had to focus on her breathing. Nice and slow.

His dick started to throb inside of her, to pulse against her muscles even as she clamped around him. She hadn’t thought he could get any thicker! The sensation almost sent her over the edge, but she kept control. She couldn’t handle much more, though. She needed him to come soon.

She angled her long neck around to assess her options. That was nearly a mistake — the sight of him wrapped around her, desperately clinging, pawing at her stomach, drooling, the visible ripples of her abdomen as she squeezed down on him — it was almost too much. But, she did spot an opportunity. She had fully taken his knot, but his balls throbbed, full and needy, right behind.

Carefully, so as to not surprise herself with a new sensation and lose her focus, Ada curled herself around so that she could reach his balls with her tongue. They were pressed up around his base, like the scales of his slit were a cock ring, presenting his testicles, nice and tight, for her visual and oral pleasure.

She flicked her tongue out and the anticipation caused her muscles to contract harder, which made him throb and pant even more.

Focus, Ada. She pressed out the full length of her tongue and gave him an experimental lick. He roared. 

Oh yes. She wasn’t sure at this point whether it was draconic instinct or human ingenuity but she didn’t care. She licked him once, twice more, but that was all it took. His balls spasmed, for a moment under great tension, and then Ada felt his shaft swell yet again as he pumped into her.

She watched, dizzy and slack-jawed as he emptied himself into her, desperately pulling against her, clawing against her labia so that she clenched him over and over.

Ada focused on soaking in every moment of watching him climax, as a way of deferring her own orgasm. It worked with Pasco, and it worked now.

Unlike a human, or even a siren, his orgasm did not seem to be time-limited, but rather volume limited. He spasmed, pumping, over and over and over again until his balls were empty.

The seal between his knot and her muscles was so firm that not even a single drop leaked out.

He, too, would not be getting out, not if his knot didn’t become significantly smaller. The male sighed, totally sated, as slowly his erection faded and the rest of his body reclaimed its blood.

Ada’s muscles insisted on staying tightly clenched, so it wasn’t until the knot was almost entirely gone that he was able to slip out and collapse on the sand next to her. 

Her sex clenched tightly after him, as if reluctant to lose any of his seed. Reflexive, perhaps, though not practical. Dragon-Ada had known as surely as human-Ada had known that no fertile egg would come of this.

His drained balls slipped back inside of his scales and so too the rest of him slowly withdrew as he sighed with contentment.

He lifted his head and started to groom her again, which Ada happily allowed. She’d have to stay focused, still, while he was awake. As she relaxed next to him, she started to get sleepy. So did he, and he nestled his chin down into the sand and drifted off.

She realized, she’d never actually slept as a dragon before. Dozed, sure, but that wasn’t quite the same. She still wouldn’t, it seemed. It wouldn’t quite be safe to let down her guard — not only considering the male dragon, but also her own potentially arousing dreams.

Human-Ada wondered whether dragons tended to live with their mates, or solitary. Dragon-Ada knew, it depended. And wholly, Ada knew that she could not stay. She dragged herself to her feet and licked the other dragon’s muzzle, and he stirred quietly in his sleep. She took a moment to appreciate him, examine his full length, his intricate scales and muscular legs, his branched antlers and the last of his shaft withdrawing.

Then, she took off, flying back out over the ocean.

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Part 7: Birds of a Feather, The Dragon's Tower

Chapter 37: Dragon’s Fire

Ships turned to torches as the fires on their decks sent plumes of smoke into the sky. The battle still raged but it was turning in their favor.

Ada wheeled in the sky and dove for another pass, emerging from of a billow of smoke and giving no warning. Fire burst from her chest and poured between her teeth as she doused another deck and the people ran, jumping overboard and scurrying below like rats.

Her laughing roar cut the sky and set the other crews trembling. Even the Wanderlust’s crew turned a wary eye to the sky. One time she had gotten a teensy bit carried away and set their own ship on fire, and now they never let their guard down during battle.

To the enemy crews, Ada’s appearance was some miracle of luck, some blessing from an ocean god. A dragon, a feral beast of the skies, wreaking havoc on the foes of the great pirate lords. It appeared from nothing. It disappeared into nothing.

She was already legend.

Ada wracked another ship with flames, but as she flew away from their heat, she felt a different warmth start to grow beyond her control. Light as a ribbon, she twisted through the air, diving behind Pasco’s ship but not appearing again on the other side. That was because she’d tucked her wings and landed as gracefully as she could on the back of the ship, slipping through the open aft and into the captain’s quarters. 

She tumbled more than landed and ended up on her back already pawing at herself. Being a dragon, she was a pivotal part of these battles, but being a dragon who was a pivotal part of battles really got her off.

Initially, Pasco had just opened the locket, his battle focus keeping Ada firmly from orgasming and returning to her human form. However, as her sexual urges built, so did her violent ones, and she found it difficult to tell friend from foe, and that was in fact the one time she’d lit the Wanderlust on fire. 

Pasco had been terrified that he may have to choose between the lives of his crew and Ada, if he were forced to snap the locket shut while she was over one of the ships or too high above the waves. Such a fall could kill her. Mercifully, it had not been long before she had swept low over the water.

Pasco had closed the locket, she had screamed her pleasure and fallen into the water, and he had jumped in himself to swim to her and keep her from drowning. She was a passable swimmer, now, but the sea was violent and could easily swallow even the strongest.

Since then, they had worked together to devise a way that Ada could still participate in the battles, but without the risk of a lust-mad dragon destroying everything in sight.

The answer had been a harem.

As Ada flopped to her side in the captains quarters, which had no furniture or fabric to speak of, a dozen sets of hands descended upon her. Anybody on the ship with sailing skills was needed during such a fight, so these were courtesans, the best in all the land, and handsomely paid.

Like the priestesses of old, the men and women worshipped her with ecstatic orgies.

And she blessed them, each in turn, with the ministrations of her dragon mouth and tongue. 

This round’s beneficiary was a plump, curly-haired woman, and Ada set to tongue-fucking her immediately. Her cries of pleasure worked Ada up into even more of a froth, her drool flowing out around the woman’s hips and Ada’s own arousal leaking down her hind legs.

Ada had learned to not fight the arousal it when she was out in the sky. It was best to just let it happen, to come here, frantic, clawing, so that the intensity never fell and she was back in the sky as soon as possible.

As soon as possible is definitely how soon she wanted to come as the rest of the courtesans set to rubbing her scales, having learned all the best, most wonderful, most tortuous spots.

It didn’t take long.

Ada climaxed before her beneficiary did, but the curly-haired woman’s turn was not up. As usual, Ada’s head stayed about where it had been, and so she hardly had to move to bury her tongue between the woman’s labia again, eagerly licking her own drool out of the other woman’s sex.

The courtesans and Ada had learned that in such a situation, Ada wanted to be fucked with the thickest dick available, so the appropriate courtesan obliged. Ada moaned into the curly-haired woman as a thick shaft slid deliciously inside of her, stretching her out in the most wonderful way.

The rest of the courtesans set up around the trio, as they knew Ada liked, as they themselves also liked, and got their best orgy on. It was overstimulating. The orgasmic trembling of her beneficiary, the delicious stretch of that dick inside of her, the moans and gasps all around her, and within moments, the ropes of cum spraying this way and that.

Ada’s dragon body swelled over them, but they knew the drill, and scurried knowingly out of the way. 

Ada shook herself down, fire in her bones. She lowered to her stomach and pushed with her hind legs against the back wall, like the ocean faring iguanas native to the nearby islands. She slid on her belly and the slick of her own cum and drool, dropped out over the edge and plummeted towards the water below before snapping her wings out and rising.

Again she descended on the enemy fleet, dousing them in fire. Her spreading legend had two opposite effects on the opponents that they met in battle. On the one hand, more and more fleets simply surrendered as soon as their first boat was alight. Some, even as soon as they saw Ada’s shadow on the sky. And still others surrendered as soon as they saw the Wanderlusts distinctive blue sail.

On the other hand, the most fearsome pirates sailed their fleets quite intentionally towards Pasco’s waters, eager to try their hand against this legendary foe.

This was one such fleet and they were putting up a decent fight, having rigged their decks with barrels of seawater to put out most of the fires.

Ada could only breathe so much flame, and if Pasco’s fleet had relied on her tricks, they may have actually lost this battle.

But Pasco’s fleet had not grown lazy even with the addition of a dragon, and they remained a well-trained and tightly coordinated crew, still deserving of their prior reputation.

In fact, Ada was more distraction than trump card. If the enemy fleet didn’t fend her off, she could sink their ships, that was true. However, it would have taken her more time and effort than they realized. 

They assumed that she was the greatest threat, and turned all their attentions towards fending her off. They chased her with ballistas and harpoon guns, tried to lay traps of raw meat and even live cattle. They filled buckets to fight the fires, and invested in metal shields and fixings that would resist the heat.

All of that distracted them from the true threat, which was cannons from Pasco’s ships punching through the hulls of the boats beneath the water. Once the hulls cracked, it was not long before the ships sank beneath the waves.

And Pasco’s crews, coordinated and dedicated as they were, were incredibly effective at leveraging Ada’s distractions.

Half of this current aggressor’s ships were sunk before their captain realized her mistake and starting barking orders to ignore the dragon and watch out for the cannons.

It was too late for that captain. The battle was effectively over. 

With an enemy fleet like this, Pasco liked to sink all but the flag ship, then make sure that ship was nice and toothless, and then leave it to slink back to shore. The more survivors there were, the more tales they spun of the pirate prince and the black dragon, the fewer interlopers came and the more nations agreed to pay the pirate nation’s protection tax so that their own ships might go safely through the waters.

And so Pasco’s fleet swiftly crippled the rest of the ships, leaving only the largest, which was now completely out of both ballista bolts and cannonballs.

Ada came to rest on the mast of one of Pasco’s ships, her claws hooked over the crow’s nest. She spread her wings wide, like her silhouette on the sail, and breathed gouts of flame into the sky.

The golden light illuminated the rising white flag on the mast of the other ship, and Ada grinned to herself, her satisfaction and thrill turning to arousal. She loved forcing someone to surrender.

She realized then that she’d wrapped her hind legs around the mast and was grinding against it, dripping her clear, sticky fluid down its length. If the end weren’t so pointy, Ada would have sincerely considered fucking herself on the mast, even though Pasco would have complained. As it were, it didn’t look comfortable, so she leaped into the sky again and wheeled back around to the rear of the ship, climbing eagerly inside.

The battle won, there was no need to hurry.

This time, she could really savor it. She’d only pleasured half of the courtesans during this battle, so she turned her attentions to each of the rest in turn, her focus on their pleasure allowing hers to build and build and build without threatening climax.

She moaned and dripped, her slick fluid pooling on the floor and then dripping over the back of the boat.

After all of her courtesans were fully satisfied, she turned her prehensile tail towards herself and fucked herself with the tip, gasping and groaning with delight. She curled up her feet and rubbed with them too, building herself to a luxuriant, jubilant climax.

She bellowed as the pleasure ignited, a victory roar that shook every plank of the ship, and she let all of the pleasure and the exaltation pour out of her until she just a human again.

As she lay breathless on the wooden floor, she started to slide on the slick pool towards the open window. One of the courtesans tossed her a rope that was anchored on the inside wall of the quarters for that exact reason.

Ada looped it on her wrist and then floated happily on the ocean of her bliss.

The courtesans splashed buckets of warm seawater over the floor and her, washing the rest of the slick down the back of the ship before closing the windows and politely withdrawing.

Ada did not quite fall asleep, however. She was too excited to celebrate the victory with Pasco, who would only be just starting to let himself relax. She dressed and ventured out, finding him on the deck. He was calling out orders to the two pirates on either side of the deck, who were waving signal flags at the rest of the ships in the fleet.

Ada waited impatiently for him to finish, then as he turned and saw her, she ran up to him and jumped into his arms, wrapping her legs tightly around his hips and kissing him deeply.

He stumbled back into the mast, leaning against it.

That allowed Ada to shift, grinding against him, putting no effort into hiding her intentions from his crew.

He moaned, his shaft twitching against her, his fingertips digging into her ass, and she knew that he’d be getting lightheaded and dizzy with lust.

Finally she broke her kiss and stepped down. Not wanting Pasco to have any chance at rational thought, she pressed her hand against his growing bulge and massaged him through his pants.

She turned to the rest of his crew. Teoda, Forte, Missa, and Sendia were closest, as per usual.

Ada said, “Your captain is very clever, isn’t he?”

Missa grinned giddily, knowing where this was going, and nodded emphatically. The rest of the crew joined in with knowing grins, twitching shafts, and flushing cheeks.

“I think he’s very deserving,” she crooned. “How would you all like to help me thank our brilliant captain?”

“Aye aye!” the crew cheered.

“A-Ada,” Pasco managed to stammer, “W-what are you— ohhhhh…”

She rubbed him again to hush his protests. Ada had pitched such a scenario a few battles back. Pasco had decided that he was happy to let her try it and that he was also happy to put up a bit of resistance. He would, if anything became too much, say ‘red’.

Ada unfastened his belt and pulled down his trousers, letting his shaft rise to full mast. She enveloped him in her mouth and moaned greedily.

Pasco sighed back into the mast and Ada’s ministrations. Ada started up a steady rhythm with her mouth, drawing moans from Pasco.

Missa approached and gently took one of Pasco’s hands, using it to massage her bare breast as she started to masturbate with the other hand.

Forte towered over them, nearly straddling Ada, and then leaned down to kiss Pasco full on the mouth. Pasco moaned and melted into it, even as Teoda came and bent his fingers up into her sex, fucking herself on them.

Sendia could not do much but watch them, face flushed red, erection twitching. “Oh-oh m-my,” she stammered, as the sight made her so very, very sensitive as she touched herself.

The rest of the crew wasted no time in devolving into jubilant orgy, the courtesans emerging onto the deck and joining in.

Ada loved forcing someone to surrender, and forcing Pasco to surrender to the pleasure of his orgasm was her absolute favorite. 

As she worked Pasco to the quivering edge and then over it, she drank deep the sounds of his arousal and the taste of his seed.

And as he finished, collapsing happily onto the deck, she curled in his arms, utterly satisfied.

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