~ One Month Later
The days passed.
The palace settled into a rhythm. Not the rhythm of a court. Not the rhythm of a bureaucracy. The rhythm of a man who had taken everything and who was now enjoying it.
The throne room became his lair.
The stone throne — the one with the gold veins — was the center. Around it, on cushions, on furs, on silk — the women. Twelve women. Then thirteen. Then more. Each one brought by the queen. Each one found by Vivian. Each one recruited from across the kingdom.
Women with abilities.
A girl who could talk to plants. Her name was Lira. She was young. Eighteen. Her body was slim. Her hair was green. Her skin was brown. Her pussy was tight. Her ability — the communion with flora — was listed in the system when Raven took her virginity.
A woman who could use telepathy. Her name was Sera. She was older. Twenty-five. Her body was curvy. Her breasts were large. Her pussy was wet. Her ability — the mind-to-mind communication — was listed.
A girl who could hatch eggs. Her name was Yuna. She was young. Nineteen. Her body was petite. Her breasts were tiny. Her pussy was hairless. Her ability — the egg hatching — was listed.
Each one. Virgin. Each one. Taken. Each one. Fucked. Each one. Claimed.
The system popped.
The blue window. The text. The list. The rewards. The abilities. Each woman — each virgin — each conquest — added to the list. The system displayed the name. The ability. The status. ’Claimed. Owned. Registered.’
Raven smirked.
The twenty-first woman.
She was on the floor. Before the throne. Her name was Mira. Not the head maid — a different Mira. A young woman. Twenty-one. Her body was slim. Her skin was pale. Her hair was silver. Her eyes were blue. Her ability — the deep field — was unusual. The ability to create a field of awareness around her body. To sense. To feel. To detect.
She was crying.
"P-Please... Lord... stop..." she whispered. Her voice was small. The voice of a virgin who has been told what is about to happen and who is terrified and who is aroused and who cannot separate the two. "I just... I just..."
She looked around.
At the other women. Twelve of them. On the floor. On the cushions. On the silk. Their bodies — naked, spent, used — were scattered. Their pussies — leaking. The seed. The white, thick fluid. Running from between their legs. Onto the stone. Onto the silk. The smell — of sex, of cum, of women, of mana — filled the room.
"I just..." Mira whispered. Her lips trembled. Her blue eyes were wet. Her silver hair was tangled. Her body was naked. Her small breasts — barely mounds, the nipples pink and tiny — heaved with each breath. Her pussy — bare, hairless, the slit tight and closed — was visible. Her hands were between her legs. Covering. Hiding. The last gesture of modesty.
Raven’s cock was out.
Hard. Twelve inches. Dark. The shaft veined. The head swollen. The cock was not clean. It was not washed. It carried the blood and the juice and the remnants of the women he had fucked. The twenty women before Mira. The virgins. The blood. The hymen blood. The juice. The seed — not his, not yet. The pre-cum. The mixture. All of it. On the shaft. On the head. On the skin.
The cock pressed.
Against Mira’s pussy. Against the closed slit. Against the hymen. The thin membrane. The barrier.
She cried out.
"I just—!" she gasped. Her voice broke. The words did not come. The sentence did not finish. Because the cock pushed. And the hymen tore. And the blood came.
He pushed.
"AAA—!!"
The scream. The sharp, sudden, piercing scream of a virgin whose hymen has been torn. The blood — thin, red — came. From the torn membrane. Down the shaft. Onto the stone. The gold veins absorbed it.
Her vagina bulged.
The cock — twelve inches, thick — pushed into the canal. The walls — tight, narrow, untrained, virgin — stretched. The muscles resisted. The cock pushed through. The bulge was visible — on her lower abdomen. The shape of the cock head. Pressing against the inside of her body. The skin — the pale, smooth skin of her lower belly — distended.
The system popped.
The blue window. The text.
[Virgin Claimed: Mira]
[Ability Acquired: Deep Field]
[Deep Field: The user can create a field of awareness around their body, sensing all living beings within a radius proportional to mana capacity.]
Raven smirked.
The ability registered. The girl cried. The cock was inside. The blood was flowing.
He pulled back. And slammed.
PAAH—
"AAAAHH—!!"
Mira screamed. Her hands went to his chest. Her nails dug into the muscle. Her legs — one lifted, the scissor position — spread. The angle opened her pussy. The cock went deeper. The head hit the cervix.
"Hahh... p-please... L-Lord... i-it... h-hurts... AAANGH—!!"
He grabbed her hands.
Both of them. He pulled them away from his chest. He pinned them. Above her head. One hand — his large hand — held both of her wrists. She was trapped. Pinned. Unable to resist. Unable to push. Unable to cover.
He fucked her.
PAH PAH PAH PAH PAH PAH—
"AAAAHH—!! HNNNGHH—!! KYAAANGH—!! HAAAAANGHH—!!"
Her body jerked. With each thrust. The scissor position — one leg up, the other down — opened her wide. The cock went deep. The head hit the cervix. The shaft stretched the walls. The balls slapped against her ass.
Her internal thoughts.
’He is... so handsome... his face... his eyes... the violet... I cannot... I cannot look away... he is... inside me... his cock is... inside me... it hurts... but... but it feels... I cannot... he is... so handsome...’
Two hours.
He fucked her for two hours. Being a virgin. Being tight. Her pussy — untrained, unworn, the muscles strong and the walls narrow — gripped him. The tightness — the vacuum, the suction, the grip — was intense. The friction was high. The pleasure — for both — was overwhelming.
Her pussy sat on his penis. She rode. Bouncing. Her small body — the slim frame, the tiny breasts — moving up and down. The cock going in and out. The blood — the virgin blood, the hymen blood — long since washed away by the juice. The clear fluid. The arousal. The wetness.
"Hahh... L-Lord... I... I cannot... m-more... AAANGH—!!"
She moaned. She cried. She came. Again. And again. And again. The orgasms — the small, virginal, body-shaking orgasms — rocked her. Each one. A scream. A convulsion. A clench.
The door opened.
Ada entered.
Her dragon-scaled body. The obsidian black. The yellow eyes. The white hair. She was in her humanoid form — thick, firm, muscular. The scales covered her arms, her shoulders, her thighs. Her breasts were bare. Heavy. The nipples dark. Her presence — the aura, the mana, the dragon heart — filled the room.
"The preparations for the delegates arriving have been made," she said. Her voice was deep. Resonant. The voice of a dragon in a human throat. "It is considered that the Lord is prepared to leave toward the Sea City. The neutral zone. Of the greatest human kingdom."
Raven looked up.
From the throne. From the girl. From the pussy. His violet eyes — calm, steady, the eyes of a man who has been fucking for two hours and who is not tired — found Ada’s yellow ones.
"Fine then," he said. His voice was conversational. The voice of a man who is accepting an itinerary. "Let us see how the fishes there are."
He slammed.
PAAAH—
"AAAAAAAHH—!!"