Chapter 74: Volume 1- [ - 75 ]
Lira knelt beside her sister. The stump of her thigh pressed against the floor, the new skin pink and tender, the pain of the contact a dull, constant ache that she had learned to ignore. Her mouth found my balls — the heavy, swollen sac that the Infinite Torrent kept perpetually full — and sucked one testicle in, her tongue rolling the weight.
Both women worked. Sera on the shaft, her lips wrapping the head, her mouth moving with the desperate, practiced rhythm of a woman trying to prove she was still useful. Lira on the balls, her lips pulling, her tongue tracing the seam. Their heads bobbed in synchronized rhythm — dark hair and chestnut hair, side by side, the sisters who had been trained together and performed together and whose devotion was expressed not in words but in the wet, slurping sounds of mouths on flesh.
“Slurp — mmmh — gllck—”
“Nnngh — suck — mmmph—”
Seraphine stared. Her yellow eyes went from Sera to Lira to my cock — the cock that had been inside her, that had filled her, that had made her scream — disappearing into the mouth of a commoner woman.
“What are you doing?” she whispered, and the question was not addressed to me. It was addressed to the universe. To the reality in which two women she had never met were kneeling on the floor of her room, sucking the cock of the man who had just taken her virginity.
“They are helping,” I said, and my voice was calm, conversational, the voice of a man explaining a perfectly reasonable arrangement. “I have a condition.”
“A — a condition?” Seraphine’s voice cracked.
“Too much vitality,” I said. “My body produces excess. If I do not empty my balls regularly, the pressure builds. It is — painful. Dangerous, even. The healers call it vitalic overload. The treatment is—”
“What — what treatment?” She was confused. The medical terminology — fabricated, invented on the spot, delivered with the confidence of a man who had read enough of this world’s texts to sound credible — was landing on a woman who had no reason to doubt it and no knowledge to challenge it.
“Women,” I said. “The treatment is women. Their bodies absorb the excess. It is — a biological necessity. Not a choice.”
‘Biological necessity,’ Seraphine’s internal voice was a tangled mess of confusion and reluctant acceptance. ‘He said — a condition — vitalic overload — is that real? I have never heard of it. But I am not a healer. Elwen would know. But Elwen — she — would she confirm it? Or would she—’
The seed was planted. The lie was not a lie she could verify — not without asking Elwen, and asking Elwen meant admitting she had been in the room when I said it, which meant admitting she had been watching two women suck my cock, which meant—
She would not ask. The lie would hold.
Sera’s mouth worked the head. Her tongue — trained, precise — found the frenulum, the ridge, the slit. She sucked harder, her cheeks hollowing, her eyes closing, her internal voice a murmur of focused effort:
‘I am still useful. I am still useful. He still needs me. Even with the blonde woman — even with her — he still needs me to—’
Lira’s mouth worked the balls. Her internal voice matched:
‘His balls — so full — even after the blonde woman — he still has more — I can help — I can—’
The system chimed.
[ Dual oral stimulation (Commoner pair) — 10 pts ]
[ Oral stimulation (Commoner — Sera) — 5 pts ]
Ten and five. Fifteen points total. The numbers were a whisper compared to the thousands that Seraphine had generated. The system’s message was clear — the sisters were depreciated assets, their point values diminished to the floor, their bodies milked of their narrative weight.
‘The system really wants me to get new women every day,’ I thought, watching Sera’s dark head bob on my cock. ‘It does not matter how skilled they are or how willing. The points drop. The well runs dry. I need fresh water.’
I looked down at the three women — the blonde on the bed, the two commoners on the floor — and the smirk that crossed my face was the smirk of a man who had just had an idea.
“Come on,” I said, my hand finding Sera’s hair, then Lira’s. “This is something good. One on the balls. One on the cock. And you—”
I looked at Seraphine. At her yellow eyes, wide and wet and confused. At her body, sprawled and marked and leaking. At the arousal meter that the Body Reading skill displayed: 45/100. Not high. Not low. The confusion was dampening it — the sight of the sisters, the bizarre explanation, the strangeness of the situation.
I needed to raise it. I needed to make her feel something sharper than confusion.
“You see them?” I said, and my voice was low, intimate, the Dirty Whisper skill threading hypnotic suggestion into every syllable. “Look at them. How eager they are. How desperate. They know what this cock is worth. They know what it does to a woman. And they are terrified — terrified that I will forget them. That I will find someone new and leave them behind.”
Sera’s mouth tightened on my cock. The words hit her internal voice like a whip:
‘He is talking about us. He is telling the blonde woman about us. About how we — yes. Yes. I am terrified. I am terrified he will leave me. I am—’
“They are commoners,” I continued, and the words were a blade wrapped in silk, aimed not at the sisters but at Seraphine’s pride. “They have nothing else. No title, no land, no skills. This — my cock, my attention, my body — is all they have. And they will do anything to keep it.”
Lira’s mouth sucked harder, her internal voice a whimper of agreement:
‘Anything. Anything. Please do not leave—’
“Now look at you.” I met Seraphine’s eyes. “A noblewoman. A warrior. The Iron Aegis. Lying on a bed with cum leaking from your pussy, watching two commoner women suck the cock that just took your virginity. And you are — what? Confused? Embarrassed?”
Her yellow eyes glistened. Her arousal meter climbed. 50. 55. The Dirty Whisper was working — the words sinking into her subconscious, bypassing her defenses, planting the suggestion that she was being compared and found wanting.
“They are better at this than you,” I said, and the lie was a precision instrument. “They have been trained. They know how to please. And you — you are just lying there. Watching. Doing nothing.”
The words hit. Her internal voice was a clench of competitive fury and wounded pride:
‘Better? They are better? At — at this? At sucking his — no. No. I am — I am a Durnheim. I am the Iron Aegis. I do not — I cannot be worse than — than commoners at — at—’
Her arousal hit seventy.
She moved. Her body — bruised, aching, her waist screaming in protest — rolled off the bed. She hit the floor on her knees, the impact making her wince, her bare breasts pressing against her thighs. She crawled. The motion was slow, painful, the crawl of a woman whose body had been wrecked and was being driven by something stronger than pain.
She reached us. Her hand — the gauntleted hand, the gauntlet still on because she had not removed it — found Sera’s shoulder. She pushed. Sera stumbled sideways, her mouth leaving my cock with a wet pop.
“What are you—” Sera started.
Seraphine pushed Lira aside with her other hand. The sister fell, her stump catching her, her eyes wide with shock.