They held each other’s hands during it. They turned their faces toward each other. They watched each other’s expressions. When one screamed, the other squeezed her hand.
PAH PAH PAH—
"AAAAAANGHH~!! HNGHH~!! KYAAANGH~!!"
Then he switched.
PAH PAH PAH—
"KKKKHAAAAAAANNGHHHHHH~!! HAAAAANGHH~!!"
He filled both wombs. The seed ran from two pussies simultaneously, thick white streams mixing with the grass and the afternoon light. Two heavy, warm bodies lying in the field. Two sets of tits pointing at the sky. Two faces with the same blank, heart-shaped, completely undone expression.
He lay between them for a moment.
They both pressed against him. Both faces found his chest. Both sets of hands gripped his sides. He looked at the sky above the field and listened to them breathing.
Then he stood. "Back to training," he said.
They groaned in unison.
The village noticed.
It was impossible not to notice. The sounds came from the field, the waterfall, the hut, the training ground. The wet, rhythmic sound of flesh on flesh. The cries. The moans. The particular sounds of women being used completely.
People in the village stopped near the treeline. A woman fetching water from the river heard it and stood with her jug in her hands and her thighs pressed together for five full minutes before she made herself walk away. Two men near the market stall caught a glimpse of the training ground scene — Edda standing with her skirt raised and her body bent forward while the dark-haired man fucked her from behind and she called the sword forms — and turned and walked in the opposite direction very quickly without discussing what they had seen with each other or with anyone else.
The rumors did not spread.
Not because people did not know. But because saying it out loud meant acknowledging it, and acknowledging it meant thinking about it, and thinking about it meant having to admit what it made their bodies feel, and that was a conversation no one in the village was prepared to have.
So the dead zone stayed quiet.
And the sounds continued.
The seventh night was Rika’s.
He took her to the forest edge. The old trees were thick and close. The moon was full. The stars were bright above the canopy.
He tied her hands.
Not with rope. With his belt. He looped it around her wrists and tied them to a branch above her head. She was stretched. Her arms above her. Her body pulled long. Her feet flat on the forest floor. Her dress had been lifted to her waist. Her panties pulled aside.
She looked at him with her truth-seeing eyes.
"Tell me something true," she said.
"You are the best at pretending you do not want this," he said.
Her eyes searched his face. They found no lie. She pressed her lips together.
He gripped her thigh. He lifted it. He positioned himself. The head pressed against her entrance.
She was wet.
She had been wet since he had tied her wrists. Since before that. Since she had watched the morning training and stood in the field with her thighs pressed together. Since she had spent six days watching the other women be filled and had waited for her turn and had not admitted to herself that she was waiting.
He pushed.
"Aaahn—!"
Her head went back. The branch creaked above her. The belt held her wrists. She was stretched and helpless and her pussy was hot and gripping around the first three inches of his cock.
He began to move.
PAH PAH PAH—
"AAAAAANGHH~!! HNGHH~!! KYAAANGH~!!"
The forest absorbed the sounds. The trees held the echoes. The fireflies scattered. Her body swung with each thrust, her tied wrists pulling at the branch, her thick thighs wrapping around his waist, trying to pull him deeper.
Then she felt it.
The pressure in her bladder.
She had been holding it. She had been holding it for an hour, since before he had tied her, because she had not wanted to interrupt whatever was about to happen by saying she needed to pee. And now he was inside her. And each thrust pressed against her bladder. And the walls of her cunt were stretched around his shaft and the pressure on her front wall was direct and constant.
"I—" she gasped. "My lord— I need to— HAH— I cannot— HAH—"
PAH PAH—
"AAAAAANGHH~!! HNGHH~!!"
"I NEED TO PEE!" she screamed. "YOU ARE— HAH— PRESSING ON MY— AAAAAANGHH~!! I CANNOT HOLD IT— I CANNOT— STOP— STOP FOR ONE MOMENT—"
He did not stop.
PAH PAH PAH—
"KYAAANGH~!! HNGHH~!! I AM GOING TO— AAAAAAANGH~!!"
She pissed.
The stream came out of her. Hot and uncontrollable, pressing past the cock that was stuffed in her cunt, running in warm rivulets down her inner thigh and her outer thigh and dripping from the hem of her lifted dress onto the forest floor. She cried. She sobbed. The tears and the piss came simultaneously. Her hips were shaking. Her tied wrists pulled at the branch.
"You— you— I wanted to— HAH— I TOLD YOU I NEEDED TO— HAH—"
PAH PAH PAH—
"AAAAAANGHH~!! HNGHH~!! KYAAANGH~!!"
He fucked her through it.
He fucked her while she pissed and cried and screamed at him with the frustrated, helpless fury of a woman with her hands tied above her head and a demon’s cock in her cunt. The piss ran warm down his shaft. The tears ran down her face. Her truth-seeing eyes were wide and streaming.
"You got the best pussy, Rika," he said.
Her eyes went wide.
The truth-seeing ability activated automatically. It could not help itself. It searched his voice, his face, his body language, his magical signature for deception. It found nothing. No lie. No manipulation. No hidden meaning.
He meant it.
Her pussy clenched.
The walls gripped him. The involuntary, body-deep response of a woman who had just heard the absolute truth and whose body had responded before her mind could catch up. The grip was vice-tight. The walls pulsed. She felt her cunt clutching him like it was trying to hold him inside permanently.
"LIAR—" she started.
But the eyes said otherwise. The ability said otherwise. Her own power was telling her he was telling the truth, and the truth of it hit her like a wall.
He slammed.
PHAAAAACK—
"KKKKHAAAAAAANNGHHHHHH~~~~~~~~~~~!!!!!!~~~~~~~~"
He came.
The load was massive. The thick, hot, complete release of a week’s final night. It shot directly into her cunt in a single, powerful flood. The warmth of it spread through her belly. Her womb received it. The walls clenched and released and clenched and the orgasm that hit her was the kind that started in the root of her and climbed every vertebra.
"AAAAAANGHH~!! HNGHH~!! KYAAANGH~!! YES— YES— YES—"
She shook.
Her body convulsed. Her wrists pulled the branch taut. The orgasm ran through her in waves — her thighs shaking, her toes curling in the dirt, her pussy gripping and releasing around the cock that had just filled her completely.
Her piss was still running in the last thin stream.
She did not care.
She looked up at the sky.
The stars were bright. The moon was full. The canopy framed it. Her eyes were streaming. Her body was shaking. The seed was warm in her belly.
Her eyes turned slightly.
Not literally. But the focus shifted. The truth-seeing eyes, still active, still running, looked outward at the clearing and found the scattered bodies of the other women. Nara in the grass with her skirt around her waist and her heavy tits pointed at the stars. Celia on her side near the treeline with her legs pressed together. Marla and Fatima wrapped around each other. Gia on her back with one arm over her face. All of them well-fucked and sleeping.
Except Edda.
The old dragon slayer was awake.
She was seated on a root at the edge of the clearing. Her hands were on her knees. Her legs were spread. Thick white seed leaked from her cunt in a continuous, heavy glob, running down the root and pooling in the dirt. Her face was forward. Her eyes were open. She was staring at nothing, pressing her own belly with one palm in the absentminded way of a woman cataloguing the interior changes a demon cock had made to her organs.
"You are too strong," Rika said.
Her voice was soft. Almost wondering. The anger was gone. What was left was something she did not have a word for.
"Dragon Lord," she added.
She fell.
He caught her. The belt released her wrists. She slid down against him and he caught her under the arms. She was limp. Her body was warm. Her hair was wet. She smelled of sweat and piss and his seed. Her truth-seeing eyes were closed. The ability was sleeping.
He held her.
For a moment.
Then he lowered her to the grass. He arranged her against Fatima’s warm back. He pulled out.
SKHLRK—
The cock slipped free. The thick glob of seed fell immediately — heavy, white, warm, dropping from her gaped entrance into the grass. His cock was half-hard and glistening, hanging between his thighs.
He stood.
He looked at the clearing. The women. The firelight. The stars above the treeline. The soft, continuous sound of multiple women sleeping the sleep of the completely claimed.
He turned.
He walked toward Edda.
She heard him coming. She did not stand. She looked up at him as he stopped in front of her. The seed was still leaking from her cunt onto the root. Her white hair was loose. Her muscular body was marked with the accumulated evidence of seven nights.
"It seems," he said. "It is time for me to fulfill my promise."