Majutsu-shi no Chikara Ch. 09

A comical moment when, after a full round of vigorous fucking, her imitator cast an invigoration on her good husband (to his alarm and brief dismay), before she dropped the illusion and offered her ass to him again -- something Esmeray got the feeling happened infrequently by his eager response. Their orgasms had the throaty, breathy honesty of genuine affection attached to animal lust... Emseray envied it, in that moment, as she was desperately allaying a descending curse through funnels and channels designed to delay the inevitable constrictor that would destroy her body and mind.

"I'll see you in the morning, Jachmina." Esmeray whispered to the mirror, sweat rolling off her skin as she at last felt safe enough to turn her attentions to her impending guest.

...

Jachmina was nearly asleep, her body still flooded with the warmth and ache of her dear, sweet Remfry's delighted attention. Something prickled in her mind, stirring her to wakefulness and filling her with cold fear.

I'll see you in the morning, Jachmina.

She looked at Remfry, already snoring quietly beside her and equally sweaty but otherwise undisturbed. If Esmeray Saran had taken notice of her...

...

"Come in." Esmeray invited the guard into her shelter, having bought the mercenary's loyalty for a few days, and including his sexual service into the bargain. Knowing who to bribe and when was part of business, within the Guild -- and some of those memories were still fresh in her mind, thanks in part to the memory-burning magic of the Tower. A part of her mind thrilled at the idea of these memories, their novelty decades from tarnishing and her life's trajectory pointed away from the Tower -- rather than towards.

Michelieau, Michelu... Mish... something... she couldn't be bothered to remember this sell-sword's name (unless he somehow already had an enchanted cock), and didn't need him for more than two nights. After that, if she didn't have the essence infernum she needed -- she'd have to seek it elsewhere.

"Ser." he ducked into the tent, his eyes taking-in the scenery before taking-in the view.

As he stripped from his hauberk, Esmeray gave an encouraging purr. He bore the marks of a man of thirty or so years, and well-built. Likely hired-out as a mercenary after time with Ser Majesty's army, or given to a mercenary band by parents unable to care for him. Or a runaway... it didn't matter to Saran, as she folded her legs around his waist and pulled him into her. Letting her concentration slip away on all but the grinding mill-wheel protecting her sanity, Esmeray gave herself permission to enjoy this cock to the fullest. As her hired dick plunged into her, the man attached grunted and sweated. Occasionally, he murmured nonsense to himself in a language Esmeray recognized but couldn't place well-enough to translate in her current plight.

"Quit trying to woo me, boy." Esmeray snarled at last, which gave the mercenary pause and caused his erection to flinch inside her.

"Ser..." he had his pride, but exercised a tight rein on his ire out of prudence.

"Fuck me like you own me." Esmeray ground her hips against him, eyes capturing him in the barest of suggestion magic. "I am no delicate thing. Fuck me. Ruin me. Give-in to your desire and make me yours."

His eyes widened with wild ferocity, the magic having little to do with his body's reaction and only nudging his mind just so. With frenzied abandon, he plowed against Esmeray, his cock stirring within her and churning the sopping juices in her ravenous cunt. The heady, meaty slap of flesh where their bodies met was echoed soon by the open-palm slaps of his hands against her bare ass... then, he chewed at her shoulder and breasts... kissing lovelessly with biting passion on her lips. In his mouth, he tasted blood, and it drove him mad with lust - though he would never realize it was his own. Esmeray Saran's body seemed to yield like flesh - but it would not bend or break to simple human strength. As he rutted her, Esmeray relished the orgasms that flooded over her in a vast plain - even as he strained and slapped, bit and clawed at her as though he could hurt her. His invited assault on her body was dulled, muted by her hardened skin and bone. His hands around her throat were little more than a snug collar, though in his mind he was clinching the air from her lungs and listening to her gasp.

He'd become mindless, vulgar... a profane thing bent only on destruction. So simple a creature, that his deepest desires were easily awakened and given their head to do what they will in this act. So useful, Esmeray hid behind a placid smile, that she would likely cut his heart from his chest to use in the ritual to summon Nabid back from the pit.

...