Chapter 30 - 28.5: Lyra’s Unease (r18)
Lyra’s Pov
A few days before the expedition, the academy halls were unusually loud.
Lyra walked through the corridors with her usual flawless posture, her expression cold and distant as whispers followed her from every direction.
"Did you hear? Victor Vance went on a date."
"With that Vesper girl."
"Elena, right? The commoner?"
"I heard they’re getting close."
Lyra’s fingers slowly curled inside her gloves.
She kept walking.
She refused to listen.
But every word followed her.
Victor.
Elena.
A date.
The rumors repeated themselves over and over until they became an unbearable noise inside her head.
Later that evening, Victor finally returned to the Vance residence.
Lyra was waiting for him.
She had been waiting for hours.
When Victor casually informed her that Elena and Kael would also be accompanying them to the dungeon, Lyra simply stared at him.
"Why?"
Victor glanced at her.
"They’ll be useful."
"Useful..."
Her voice barely escaped her lips.
After Victor left, Lyra remained standing alone in the room.
Why?
Why did he need them?
Why did he need that girl?
All he needed was her.
She had given him everything.
Her loyalty.
Her pride.
Her heart.
Her very existence.
Wasn’t she enough?
Lyra slowly sat on the edge of her bed.
"Why am I never enough...?"
Her voice cracked.
The tears came before she could stop them.
She buried her face in her hands, desperately trying to suppress the sobs.
"I just want Victor..."
Eventually, exhaustion overwhelmed her.
But instead of remaining in her own room, Lyra found herself standing outside Victor’s bedroom.
She hesitated before quietly entering.
The room was empty.
Lyra slowly approached his bed.
She picked up his blanket and held it against herself.
The familiar scent immediately surrounded her.
Her cheeks turned crimson.
"Ah..."
She closed her eyes and buried her face deeper into the fabric.
Victor’s scent.
For a moment, the jealousy and loneliness inside her became quieter.
She hugged the blanket tightly against her chest, imagining his arms around her.
"Master..."
Her breathing gradually became uneven as her thoughts drifted somewhere she knew she shouldn’t allow them to go.
She pressed her face against the pillow and allowed herself to indulge in the fantasy.
Just for tonight.
Just until he returned.
Her eyes slowly opened.
That Vesper girl...
If she was only a pawn, Lyra could tolerate her.
But if she wasn’t...
Lyra’s expression changed.
The warmth disappeared from her face.
"If she’s standing between us..."
Her fingers tightened around the blanket.
"...then I’ll have to remove her."
The thought frightened even Lyra herself.
Yet she couldn’t bring herself to reject it.
"I won’t let anyone take you away from me, Master."
Eventually, exhaustion pulled her into sleep.
She remained curled beneath Victor’s blanket, clutching the fabric tightly against her chest.
Hours later, the sound of the front door opening echoed through the residence.
Lyra’s eyes slowly opened.
Footsteps approached.
She recognized them immediately.
Victor.
Her heart began beating faster.
The bedroom door opened.
Victor stepped inside.
His gaze immediately fell upon the figure lying on his bed.
Lyra pretended to remain asleep.
Victor paused.
Then he quietly approached the bed.
Lyra’s cheeks grew warmer as she waited.
She wanted his warmth.
For tonight, at least, Victor was here.
And Lyra had no intention of letting him leave her side again.
Third person pov
By the time Victor returned to his bedroom, Lyra’s chest burned with the ache of hours of neglect. He began to prepare for sleep, pointedly ignoring her presence, but she couldn’t take the silence. She stepped forward, her voice already trembling with desperation.
"Use me, Master! Use me! Use this nasty slut!" she screamed, dropping to her knees and clawing frantically at his belt. Her fingers shook as she freed his rod, the scent of sweat and the musk accumulated from his day hitting her senses instantly.
Victor didn’t offer a gentle word. He grabbed her hair in a tight fist and hauled her upright, spinning her toward the nearest wall. He slammed her chest against the cold stone, the impact knocking the breath from her lungs. With a rough motion, he ripped her smallclothes down and thrust into her kitty in one hard, uncompromising shove, burying himself to the root.
Lyra’s scream bounced off the stone walls. He gripped her hips, his fingers digging into her flesh, and drove upward in steady, punishing strokes. Each thrust was so powerful it lifted her feet off the floor.
"Ah... yes, that’s it. You wanted this, Lyra... didn’t you?" he growled, his voice vibrating against her ear while he continued to hammer into her. "Did you miss Master’s shaft that much?"
"That’s it, take every inch," he snarled, hooking one arm under her thigh to hoist her higher. Her back scraped the rough surface of the wall as he pounded her, his rod slamming deep into her cave with loud, wet, slapping sounds. Lyra’s legs dangled, her toes curling as her body jolted with every impact. She continued to babble between her cries, "Use me, Master! Love your nasty slut harder!"
He increased the pace, his hips snapping forward with brutal efficiency until her vision began to swim. Her cave clenched tight around him, the internal walls fluttering as a violent orgasm crashed through her. The force of her release made her lose her balance completely Victor let go, and she dropped to the floor in a heap, her body still twitching and squirting around nothing.
He followed her down without a moment’s pause. Victor flipped her onto her back on the cold stone, spread her thighs wide, and sank back inside her dripping cave. He loved her on the floor with long, grinding thrusts, one hand pinning her wrists firmly above her head while the other squeezed her breast. Sweat dripped from his chest onto her skin. Lyra’s moans turned ragged as he bottomed out again and again, the head of his rod battering her cervix. Her hips bucked up to meet him, desperate for the friction.
"Fill me, Master," she begged, her voice hoarse. "Pump your nasty slut full."
Victor’s rhythm grew erratic and urgent. He slammed in deep and held himself there, his shaft pulsing as thick ropes of com flooded her cave. The overflow leaked out around his shaft, pooling on the stone floor beneath her ass. He kept thrusting through the lubrication of his own seed, pushing every spurt deeper until her belly felt warm and full. Only when the last twitch faded did he pull back slowly, watching the white cream ooze from her stretched slit.
Lyra lay there panting, legs splayed, a blissful smile on her face despite the ache in her hips. Victor stood up pulling his pants up. "Stay here and rest."
A flush raced across Lyra’s cheeks. Even in her exhaustion, the obsessive, eager light sparked in her eyes. She reached out, grabbing Victor’s hand and pulling herself back onto her knees. She freed his shaft once again, rubbing her face against his balls and then sliding her cheek along the length of his shaft before taking him into her mouth.
Victor’s voice dropped to a low growl. "Suck your master’s shaft like your life depends on it."
Lyra obeyed instantly. She opened her mouth wide to take the thick shaft in, but Victor didn’t wait for her to adjust. He grabbed her hair and shoved his length straight down her throat. She gagged hard, her throat spasming around him, spit bubbling at the corners of her lips. He held her there, hips rocking, forcing every inch deeper until her nose pressed against his pelvis.
"That’s it," he snarled. "You’re my com bucket. Your only job is keeping these balls empty."
Tears streamed down her face, yet she moaned around his shaft, the sound vibrating through him. He pulled back just enough for her to gasp for air, then slammed forward again, using her mouth like a hole. When he finally withdrew, long strings of saliva connected her swollen lips to his glistening rod.
Victor looked down at her, thinking of how this noble woman had devolved into such a nasty slut. The sight only made him want to degrade and humiliate her further.
"Smell them," he ordered, pushing her face lower.
Lyra pressed her nose to his heavy balls, inhaling the musky, masculine scent. Her tongue darted out, licking slow, wet stripes across the wrinkled skin, sucking one ball into her mouth while her hand stroked his shaft. The taste made her whimper with submission.
Victor yanked her up by the hair and threw her onto the narrow bed. She landed on her stomach with a thud. He seized her ankles, dragging her hips to the edge of the mattress, and ripped her small clothes aside once more. Without warning, he drove his rod straight into her pussy in one brutal thrust.
Lyra screamed, her body jerking as her walls clenched around the sudden invasion. Victor planted a heavy hand between her shoulder blades, pinning her face into the mattress. He loved her hard and fast, each stroke forcing her tight cave to stretch. Her pained cries gradually melted into broken, desperate moans as her body betrayed her, natural wetness finally coating his shaft.
He climbed onto the bed, his knees bracketing her thighs, and drove even deeper. The angle allowed him to bottom out with every single thrust, the head of his cock battering her cervix relentlessly. Lyra’s fingers clawed at the sheets, her ass lifting to meet him now, chasing the brutal rhythm.
"Take it," Victor growled, sweat dripping onto her back. "Milk your master."
Her cave fluttered and clenched in a final, desperate peak. He slammed in to the hilt and held, his balls pressed tight against her. Thick ropes of com pulsed deep inside her, flooding her womb until it overflowed, white cream leaking around his shaft and running down her thighs.
Victor pulled out slowly. A heavy strand of com stretched between his rod and her dripping slit. He grabbed her hair again, hauling her around to face him.
"Clean it," he commanded.
Lyra opened her mouth obediently. She licked every trace of their mixed fluids from his softening length, tongue swirling around the head, sucking the last drops from the slit. When he was satisfied, he pushed her back down onto the bed.
She lay there, legs spread, com steadily oozing from her well-used cave onto the sheets. Her eyes were glassy, lips curved in a blissful, obsessive smile. Victor watched her for a moment, then sat beside her, one hand resting possessively on her thigh.
"Rest," he said. "We still have a dungeon to clear soon."