Harem Apocalypse: My Seed is the Cure?!

"Do you know a place?" I asked.

My voice came out awkwardly, and I hated how obvious it sounded. The reality of what she was asking started settling into my head the farther we walked.

Maribel nodded once.

We left the beach behind and moved away from the busy stretch of Boardwalk. We did not go far enough to leave the area entirely, but she led me toward streets I had never explored before. The buildings around us looked abandoned in a more complete way than the Whitesun or the hotels Marlon’s people used. Windows were broken. Sand had piled against doorways. Some signs hung loose from their frames, creaking whenever the wind caught them.

There were no people around.

At the end of one narrow street, Maribel stopped in front of a small two-story building.

It looked like almost like an old motel, though smaller than most of the hotels around Atlantic City. Several doors lined each floor, each one leading into what had probably once been rented as a separate studio.

I followed her inside.

The lobby was empty. Dust coated the counter, and an old brochure stand had fallen over near the entrance. We climbed the stairs without speaking. My footsteps sounded too loud against the worn steps.

On the first floor, a row of doors ran along a dim hallway.

Maribel walked to the one at the far end and unlocked it.

When she pushed it open, I looked over her shoulder.

The room was surprisingly clean.

It was small, but somebody had taken care of it. The floor had been swept. A blanket was folded neatly on the bed. A few cans and bottles had been organized on a short table near the wall. The curtains were drawn halfway across the window, blocking most of the harsh afternoon light.

"Did you clean this beforehand?" I asked.

"No," she said. "This is where I mostly live and sleep."

"Oh."

That explained why she had been hard to find sometimes.

I stepped inside, and Maribel closed the door behind us. The latch clicked into place.

When I turned around, she was leaning against the door with her head lowered.

Her shoulders shook slightly.

At first I thought she was nervous.

"S-So," she said, her voice quieter than before. "It is like the first time? That is what you call stabilization, or whatever?"

"Yeah," I answered. "Like the first time."

Maribel pressed her lips together. She pushed away from the door and took a few steps past me, trying to act like she had already made up her mind.

"Damn it," she muttered. "Let’s just get this over with—"

Her knees suddenly gave out.

"Maribel!"

I caught her before she hit the floor completely, dropping down with her and supporting her weight against my arm. She was lighter than I expected. Her breathing had turned uneven, and when she looked up at me, her face was even paler than it had been outside.

"Hey, are you okay?" I asked.

"Y...Yeah," she said quickly. "I am. I am just a little tired."

She tried to sit up straighter, but her body did not cooperate. Her hand pressed against the floor beside her, trembling hard enough that she could not hide it.

I looked closely at her face.

The exhaustion in her eyes did not look like embarrassment anymore.

It looked like pain.

"You..." I started, my concern growing fast. "How long have you been feeling like this?"

Maribel stayed on her knees for a few more seconds, trying to get her breathing under control.

"I don’t know," she said. "Maybe two days after getting out of that theater. My stomach started hurting, then my arms and legs. Headaches too."

"You should have called me as soon as it started," I said. "This is happening because you were never stabilized."

"I thought it was a fever or something." Her fingers curled against the carpet. "Shawn gave me medicine, but it did not change anything."

Of course it had not.

A painkiller might help somebody with a normal fever, an injury, or a headache. It was not going to do anything against a Symbiote spreading through someone’s body.

Maribel saw the answer on my face.

"I get it already," she snapped. "I need stabilization. Alright?"

She forced herself upright, though she had to put a hand against the side of the bed to keep her balance. The movement made her wince.

"Thankfully, you did not wait longer," I said.

I reached for the buttons of my shirt.

Maribel’s head jerked toward me.

"O-Of course you can say that like it is easy," she said, glaring. "It is easy for you. It is not easy for me."

"I never said it was easy." I pulled my shirt free and tossed it onto a chair near the wall. "But putting it off could cause damage that we cannot fix later. Your body is already reacting badly."

Maribel did not answer.

She moved beside the bed and slipped off her shoes, placing them near the wall instead of throwing them aside. Her movements were slow, like every bend and shift hurt more than she wanted me to see.

I took off my own shoes and stood there for a second, trying to make myself calm down.

This was not the same as being with Sydney, Rachel, Cindy, or Elena.

It could not be.

Maribel was sick. She was scared. She had agreed because she needed help, not because she wanted some romantic moment with me. The only thing that mattered was getting the Symbiote under control before it hurt her any further.

It is stabilization, I reminded myself. Nothing else.

"W...Wait, why are you topless?" She asked, a flush of dark pink creeping rapidly up her neck and spreading across her cheeks.

"Because it’s hot in here, and I don’t want to get sweaty," I replied.

I stood there in my undershirt for a moment, taking off my shoes and setting them aside before looking back at her. I let out a low, exasperated breath, trying to lower the tension radiating through the room.

"You don’t have to force anything," I said, my voice dropping an octave. "I’ll handle it. Just... just try to relax."

"Fine..."

She moved slowly toward the bed, turning and lowering herself down until she was laying flat on her back across the neat blanket.

The amber sunlight poured through the window directly behind the bed, illuminating the room in a rich, warm glow. Every curve of her body was highlighted, the soft light catching the subtle rise and fall of her chest as she tried to slow her breathing.

I took a deep, grounding breath, actively shifting my mindset.

Remember, this is just stabilization, I whispered to myself in the quiet space of my mind once again.

If I treated this like making love with Sydney or the others, if I got caught up in romance or overthought it, it wouldn’t work the way it needed to. This was about saving her body from tearing itself apart from the inside.

It was stabilization, nothing more yeah.

I moved over to the side of the bed, leaning over her and looking down at her fitted pants.

"Will you help me out?" I asked quietly.

Maribel gritted her teeth, her brow furrowing, but she slowly reached down with shaking fingers. She unfastened her waistband and slowly pulled her pants down, tugging them past her hips, down her smooth, shapely thighs, revealing her long, caramel-toned legs.

I took over, grasping the hems of the fabric, carefully pulling the pants down over her ankles and feet, tossing them to the floor beside my shirt.

Now she was laying there in just her top and a pair of simple white underwear, her skin glowing under the warm light.

I knelt on the edge of the mattress between her legs, the springs creaking softly beneath my weight. Maribel let out a faint, shaky exhale—"Aah..."—her inner thighs trembling slightly as my hands settled gently on the soft skin just above her knees.

"I’m going to start now," I said quietly.

"Just... do it," she muttered, her hands gripping the sheets tightly on either side of her hips.

I slid my hands slowly up her thighs, the contact immediate and electric. Her skin was warm and soft and I could literally feel the portion of Dullahan within her reacting to my touch. As my thumbs brushed over her soft inner thighs, a small, involuntary gasp—"Hnk..."—escaped her lips.

Hooking my fingers beneath the elastic bands of her white underwear, I gently slid them down. She lifted her hips just enough to help, her breath catching in her throat with a soft, hitching "Ah..." as the cotton cleared her legs and was cast aside.

She was completely bare to me now, her pale lower belly rising and falling with quick, shallow breaths, her center warm and glistening slightly in the soft sunlight.

I didn’t hesitate, knowing that hesitation would only make her more self-conscious. I leaned down, bringing my hand between her parted legs. My fingers brushed softly against her swollen folds, instantly feeling the slick, intense heat gathering there.

"O...Oh..." Maribel gasped, her back arching slightly off the mattress at the initial touch. Her toes curled into the bedsheets. "That’s... it’s cold..."

"Your body is running hot because of the strain," I said, stroking her gently with the flat of two fingers, gathering her natural moisture to slick her sensitive skin. "Just try to breathe."

I slowly slid one finger upward, finding her sensitive button and pressing lightly.

"Ah! N-Nnh...!" A sharp, needy vocalization broke from her lips, her hands clenching into tight fists against the blanket. Her thighs twitched, reflexively wanting to clamp shut around my hand, but she forced herself to stay open, her chest heaving.

I began to circle her clitoris with rhythmic pressure, feeling the pulse of her blood throbbing beneath her skin. The Symbiote was reacting, its faint, dark hum beginning to harmonize with the rhythmic stimulation. Maribel’s head rolled back into the pillow, a low, shuddering groan working its way out of her throat—"Mmmff... aah... God..."

Once she was slick and yielding, I lowered the tip of my middle finger down to her opening and gently pushed inside.

The heat inside her was staggering. She was so tight, her inner walls instantly hugging my finger, pulsing softly against the intrusion.

"A...Ahhh!" Maribel cried out, a higher, breathier sound that echoed softly off the bare walls of the room. "Wait—it’s... it feels strange... heavy..."

"Just feel it," I said softly as I began to curl my finger slowly inside her, massaging her front wall while my thumb maintained a firm pressure on her swollen knot outside. "Let it happen, Maribel. It will be easier."

I added a second finger, slowly stretching her, working them in and out with a smooth thrusting motion.

"Ah... ah... ah...!" Her panting grew faster, louder, each slide of my fingers pulling wet, squelching sounds from her core. "Nnnh... yes... right there..."

"Here?" I asked, hook-curling my fingers deeper, pressing against her sensitive G-spot.

"YES! Ahhh—hnngh!" She let out a sharp, breathless squeal, her hips lifting off the bed to drive herself harder against my hand. She was losing her composure, the pleasure washing over the pain that had been tormenting her for days. Her thighs began to tremble uncontrollably against my sides, wetness coating my fingers and pooling around her entrance.

Seeing her body respond, knowing she needed more direct, intense stimulation to push the Symbiote past its threshold, I shifted lower between her legs. I brought my face right down to her wet, throbbing heat.

Maribel gasped, her eyes snapping open in shock as she felt my warm breath fan across her core. "W...Wait! What are you—aah!"

Before she could protest, I buried my face into her center, wrapping my lips around her sensitive button and taking it into my mouth.

"OH GOD! AAAAAH!"

Maribel screamed out, an uninhibited sound of pure pleasure, her hands flying down to bury her fingers wildly into my hair. She didn’t push me away, she pulled me closer, pressing my face tightly against her wet mound.

She gave in to the pleasure it seems finally.

I flicked my tongue broadly over her clitoris, lapping up her sweet, slick fluids, while keeping two fingers buried deep inside her, pumping in a rapid, wet rhythm. The sounds of my mouth working over her wet skin, thick, hungry licking and suction, filled the quiet room, mingled with her unrestrained, breathy moans.

"Aah! Hmmph... yes... right there! Please, yes!" she babbled, entirely undone. Her voice rasped with desperate need, her hips bucking up off the bed in frantic rhythm with my tongue. "Nnnnh... it’s too much... it’s building up... ah! Ah! AHH!"

I sucked her clitoris gently into my mouth, swirling my tongue rapidly around the tip while pulling my fingers almost all the way out and plunging them back in deep, hitting her inner wall with hard, unrelenting pressure.

Maribel stiffened strongly, her back arching into a steep curve, her toes curling tight.

"AAAAHHH! I’M—I’M COMING! HNNNGH!"

A shuddering, explosive orgasm slammed through her body. Her inner walls clamped down violently on my fingers, throbbing in hard, rhythmic spasms that gushed hot, sweet fluid over my hand and mouth. She let out a long, trailing cry—"Aaaahhhh... mmmnff... ahhh..."—that slowly devolved into soft, trembling gasps as the peak washed over her.

I kept my mouth pressed to her, gently lapping at her sensitive center as her contractions slowly subsided, drinking in her release until her hips finally sank back down into the mattress.

I pulled back slowly, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand, leaving her core glistening and peaceful under the soft afternoon light.

Maribel lay there, chest heaving, her skin covered in a light sheen of sweat, her eyes half-closed and dazed. The pain and tension that had racked her face earlier was completely gone, replaced by a soft, flushed, spent expression.