Chapter 26: Volume 1- [ - 27 ]
I read the window. Read it again. And then I did something I had not done since arriving in this world.
I laughed.
Not a chuckle. Not a smirk. A full, genuine, chest-shaking laugh that made Martha flinch on my cock, her walls clenching around me in startled terror.
’Six hundred points.’ For fucking a maid. Six hundred points because the system had looked at the narrative consequences of my actions — the butterfly effect, the chain of cause and consequence that rippled outward from a single act of infidelity — and calculated that this thick, scheming, treacherous woman crawling on my cock was going to be the catalyst for my eventual downfall. That her testimony, combined with a healer heroine and a deified, vengeful Elira, would lead to my death.
And the system was rewarding me for it. Six hundred points. More than Elira had given me. More than any single encounter had produced. Because the system did not just measure the act — it measured the story. The narrative weight. The dramatic irony of a villain who fucked his way toward his own destruction and was paid points for the privilege.
’This is fucking hilarious,’ I thought, and the laughter kept coming, bubbling up from somewhere deep, fueled by the absurdity of it all. ’I am literally being rewarded for accelerating my own death. The system is paying me to dig my own grave and handing me the shovel with a smile.’
And this woman — this trembling, crying, cock-impaled bitch who was going to betray me to a hero party in some future timeline she could not even imagine — was currently bouncing on my dick with the graceless desperation of a woman whose survival instincts had overridden every other cognitive function.
I stopped laughing. My hands found her hips. Gripped hard. And I began to fuck.
Not the slow, romantic rhythm I had used with Elira. Not the patient, calculated seduction of a pregnant woman’s trust. This was different. This was the fuck of a man who had read his own obituary and decided to rewrite it with every thrust.
I stood up. Lifted her with me — her weight was considerable, but the Viagra and the adrenaline and the sheer petty determination of a man who refused to die made it possible. I pinned her against the wall. Her legs wrapped around my waist — instinct, not choice — and I drove into her with a force that rattled the stone.
PHACK! PHACK! PHACK! PHACK!
"HAANGH — HIIIENGHH — AHNNGH — STOOOP — PLEASE — MY — MY BODY — I CANNOT—’
’He is — he is going to kill me — with his — I can feel it — in my chest — my heart — it is hitting something — my organs — I—’
I pulled out. Turned her around. Bent her over the writing desk, her heavy breasts flattening against the wood, her ass raised and presented, her thick thighs trembling. I entered her from behind — the angle different, deeper, the head of my cock driving against her front wall with each thrust, and she screamed.
"HAAAH — NO — NOT THAT DEEP — YOU ARE — HITTING — MY—’
I fucked her against the desk. Then against the balcony railing — the cold night air hitting our sweat-slick skin, the grey sea roaring below, her leg hooked over my shoulder, my hand pinching her clit while my cock hammered her from an angle that made her see god. Then in the bathing chamber — the tub filled with cold water, her body submerged to her waist, her breasts floating on the surface while I took her from behind, her hands gripping the rim of the tub, her moans echoing off the wet stone walls.
"HIIIENGHH — HAAANGH — AHN — AHN — AHNNGH—!!"
I spread her anal again. Pushed my cockhead against the tight ring — wet now, slick with her own juices and the bathwater — and drove in.
"NOOO — NOT THERE — PLEASE — I HAVE NEVER — IT WILL NOT—’
I smacked her ass. Hard. The sound cracked through the chamber like a whip, and the flesh reddened instantly, the thick, pale cheek dimpling under my hand before springing back with a wobble that traveled through her thigh and up her spine.
I pushed deeper. One inch. Two. The resistance was immense — her anal fought me with every fiber, the muscle clenching and spasming around the intrusion — but the oil from earlier had done its work, and the tissue, softened and sensitized, yielded in increments.
"Tell me about the gold," I said, my voice calm, conversational, while my cock slowly invaded her ass. "The money you embezzled. The silverware you planned to take. Tell me everything."
"I — I — HAAAH — I took — twelve gold coins — over the past year — from the household accounts — I — I told the merchant in the village they were for supplies—’
"More."
"And the — AHNGH — the silver candlesticks — two pairs — I sold them to a fence in the port town — he gave me four gold each—’
"What else?"
"The — the jewelry — the late lady’s necklace — I — I—"
"Where is it?"
"I — I have it — hidden — in my room — beneath the floorboard — please — please stop — I am telling you everything—’
I pulled her hair. Wrapped it around my fist, pulling her head back, her throat exposed, her back arched, her ass fully impaled on my cock. I fucked her like that — slow, deep, deliberate strokes that made her entire body convulse with each thrust, her anal clenching and releasing in spasms she could not control, her pussy gushing fluids down her thighs in a continuous, involuntary stream.
"From now on," I said, each word punctuated by a thrust, "you are going to do exactly what I tell you. You are going to bring me the man who holds the most land in my estate. Tell him the lord has summoned him. If he refuses, tell him I wish to purchase his land at ten times the market price."
Her eyes were rolling. Her head lolled. Her thoughts were not thoughts anymore — they were fragments, pieces of a mind that had been fucked past the point of coherence:
’Please stop — my body is melting — why do I feel this way — I cannot think — I cannot — please — just — please—’
"Yes," she gasped, the word barely audible. "Yes, my lord. I will. I will do it. I will... I..."
She was becoming well tamed. The fight had been fucked out of her — not through violence, not through fear alone, but through the relentless, systematic overstimulation of a body that had been oiled and fucked and played with until the boundary between resistance and surrender had dissolved entirely.
I slammed my cock deep into her ass. Her whole body seized — back arching, toes curling, a scream tearing from her throat that cracked into a whimper. I came. Thick, hot, flooding her insides, pulse after pulse filling her, my cock buried to the root in her ass while her walls milked me with involuntary contractions.
I held her there. Trembling. Impaled. Broken in.
Then I pulled out and let her collapse.
She fell onto the bathroom floor, her body limp, cum leaking from her swollen, gaping anal in a slow, thick stream. Her eyes were open but empty. Her mouth was slack. Her breasts heaved with each ragged breath, the nipples raw and stiff. She looked, in that moment, like a woman who had been taken apart and was not sure she would be put back together.
I stood over her. My cock, still half-hard, hung between my thighs. I reached into the system inventory and materialized two items — small, innocent-looking, deceptively powerful.
A bead. And a vibrator.