A Perverted Path to Victory

The moment stretched long. Too long. Hurlish had never had this kind of patience before. But then again, Sara had always had Gift of Lust to fall back on, hadn’t she? To spur her wives on when she was tired of waiting. Who was really the impatient one here?

“Well?” Hurlish purred.

“W-well what?” Sara stammered back. She had both hands gripping the sheets in preparation for being split in half by that cock, and she was sweating even as she shivered. “You t-told me what you’re going to do. Aren’t you going to do it?”

“I’m waiting for you to tell me what you want.”

“H-huh?”

“We both know what I mean.” Hurlish took her cock in one hand, dragging it up and down Sara’s pussy lips in a way that left her biting her lip. “I’ve seen you force plenty of pretty girls to beg for your cock. Isn’t it time you returned the favor?”

“N-no!” Sara shook her head. “I don’t have any of my d-damn Blessings, remember? None of th-that extra lust, or any of the… the crazy horniness Amarat gave me. M-maybe if I had all that I’d be too desperate, but I don’t. I’m just like I u-used to be. I’m not going to beg!” If the last few words sounded like they dissolved into a childish whine, Sara knew it was entirely a coincidence.

Hurlish laughed. “Really? You think you wouldn’t? All those times I’ve had you screaming under me, and you’re gonna blame Amarat for that? Fuck off, Sara.” Hurlish reached down, wrapping her hand around Sara’s throat, her calloused hand more than large enough to entirely envelop the collar. She wasn’t even squeezing. Just resting her hand there. Sara could feel her racing pulse bouncing off Hurlish’s palm. “Now let me hear it. What do you want?”

Sara panted into the open air. Despite her best efforts at keeping herself still, she found her hips wriggling from side to side, working Hurlish’s cock around, as if the slightest bit of friction might fill the burning ache in her core. Taking a shaky breath, she managed one last defiant glare.

“Are you just gonna talk? Or are you gonna actually fuck me?”

Hurlish barked out a laugh, grabbing Sara’s hips and lifting her up like a doll.

“Alright, I guess that’s good enough for me. We’ll keep working things through later on, alright?”

Hurlish began to push. Sara’s eyes shot open as she sucked in a hissing breath, bracing for the pain. It was too big to fit. It was stupidly big, porn logic, the kind of thing you’d see in hentai, and she had her real, honest body. It should have hurt like a motherfucker.

But it didn’t. Of course it didn’t. Hurlish had told her to make her body able to take her, and she’d obeyed. Her dripping arousal smeared across the steel pillar of Hurlish’s cock as shoved herself forward.

Sara felt herself get split open. Wider. Wider. She put a hand to her mouth and bit down on a knuckle, hiding the noise that should have accompanied her trembling legs.

Hurlish didn’t go easy on her. She may not have buried herself to the hilt in an instant, but she didn’t go slow. The empty ache Sara felt in her core was steadily shoved away, inch by inch, second by second. Hurlish let out a low, satisfied growl, like an animal sinking its teeth into its prey, and Sara met that sound with a whine that she couldn’t quite swallow away.

Suddenly, Sara felt Hurlish bottom out. Sara was full. No more room to go, not a single inch left. She knew from her old adventures in the bar bathrooms of Detroit that it meant she had seven thick inches of cock inside her, filling her to the brim. But she’d never had anyone so long that was still so thick. God, it was like her every nerve was sparkling, electric tingles racing out from her core to send the rest of her body dancing.

She risked a glance down. Hurlish was barely past the halfway point.

Sara had always said she didn’t use her Blessings to give her partners massive cocks because it was the right thing to do. No point in introducing some insecurities over such a sensitive topic, right? If someone was a bit smaller than she preferred, she could just tighten herself up. Easy.

But that was only half the story. Truth was, Sara just plain didn’t like big cocks. At least on other people, since she was more than happy to accommodate a partner’s tastes if they liked it big. But having a giant cock shoving its way in her? She’d been there before. She’d had girlfriends use toys that were too big, or slept with a few guys that were pretty damn big, and the result was always the same: a bruised cervix, quick end to the sex, and a morning spent waddling around with a really unique kind of soreness. If you didn’t have magic backing it up, big dicks were just awful. She didn’t get why people like Evie loved them.

The problem was, Hurlish did have magic backing it up. A Champion’s magic.

When she first felt Hurlish’s cock brushing her cervix, Sara froze.

Hurlish didn’t.

Sara’s vision went white as she felt her body stretch. Warping. She felt the flicker of the collar’s power trickling into her veins, forcing her Blessings into action, and the power of that compulsion tearing through her mind only left her dizzier.

Full. So fucking full. Oh my god.

She didn’t have anything to fall back on. No Skills, no Levels, nothing to help stop herself from arching her back and letting out a gasping moan, taking twisting fistfuls of the sheets. She’d had cock before, had good cock before, but this was beyond that. Every square inch of her pussy was squeezing down on Hurlish, twitching convulsively, her traitorous body rippling in waves that seemed designed to drag that massive cock in further.

“God, you’re fucking tight,” Hurlish groaned. Then she chuckled. “Gods be fuckin’ damned. I get why you say that all the time. Feels fucking good.”

If she’d had the wherewithal to respond, Sara probably would have cracked a joke. But she was too busy trying to not fall apart over the fact that Hurlish was inside her. Her wife. Her wife’s cock. Stretching her open until she was bursting at the seams.

Unfair, she thought, dazed. So fucking unfair. I didn’t last thirty seconds when I got my first go with a cock. Why does she still get to talk shit?

All of the sudden, the stretching stopped. Sara’s eyes refocused a touch, thinking Hurlish had finally hilted herself, only to be devastated when she looked down. Her wife had simply run out of leverage. Her cock was so long that she couldn’t thrust all the way into Sara while still kneeling at the end of the bed.

Hurlish realized the problem in the same moment Sara did. For a brief moment of delirious optimism, Sara thought she might say to make her cock smaller, easier to handle. But no. Hurlish simply grabbed hold of Sara’s hips and lifted her even further up, leaving her legs dangling in the air, still impaled on cock.

“Gods, that feels good,” Hurlish rumbled, eyes closed as she savored the moment. Then she opened them, grinning at Sara. “You look like you’re gonna cum already. The big bad Champion of Amarat can’t even take her wife’s cock without turning into a mess?”

Sara failed to bite back a whimper. Apparently that counted as an answer, because Hurlish dragged her down.

Fast.

Lightning flashed behind Sara’s eyelids. She let out a hard wheeze, as if the air had been physically shoved out of her lungs. So big. So fucking big. She was wrapped around Hurlish, like her entire body was being stuffed full of cock, and she couldn’t hide from the wracking waves of pleasure. It was impossible. An impossible pleasure, impossible to resist. All of Sara’s efforts were directed to holding herself there, teetering over the edge of oblivion.

Briefly, lightly, as if a mere afterthought, Hurlish swiped a thumb across Sara’s clit.

She fell apart with a cry. She clamped down even harder on Hurlish’s cock as a raging wildfire of climax roared through her veins, sweeping her along with it. She barely had the breath to cry out, so her moans became scratchy and awkward, pathetically needy, rising and falling with the shakes of her body. Her legs kicked in the air, lacking the coordination to wrap around Hurlish’s waist like they wanted to. Hurlish kept that single thumb on her clit, pressing down with just the right amount of pressure so that Sara’s bucking hips could grind mindlessly against it, drawing her climax out.

Abruptly, she sagged. Her grip on the sheets fell apart as she lay on the bed, panting. She’d broken out in a sweat, and her eyes didn’t seem to focus quite right as she looked down her own body, staring at her own hips still grasped in Hurlish’s massive hands.

Her wife laughed.

“Fucking hells, that felt crazy.” She adjusted her stance, stirring her cock around in Sara in a way that only intensified the aftershocks running through her. Hurlish smiled down at her. “There you go. You took it all the way. Can you feel it?”

Still lost to herself, confused, Sara shook her head.

“Yeah you can.” Hurlish gave Sara a little pump, using her body like a toy. Her voice dropped an octave. “You can feel it. Your wet little cunt dripping over my cock. All the way in. My balls up against your ass, my finger on your clit. Don’t pretend you can’t, Sara.” She drew Sara back an inch, then dragged her down. Sara cried out, a sound far louder than Hurlish’s soft moan. “Come on. I want you to tell me what you think. Does it feel good? To have me in you, knowing that I’m gonna knock you up?”

Sara panted. She couldn’t say that. The collar may still be on her, but that didn’t mean shit. She was the goddamn Champion of Amarat, and even if she didn’t have that at the moment, she’d lost count of how many people she’d left whimpering under her years before she’d come to this world. She didn’t need to—

“Yes or no, Sara. Tell me.”

“Y-yes!” She gasped out, the collar tearing the words out of her throat. “Y-yes it feels g-good, s-so fucking good, feels like I’m gonna go fucking crazy, feels so good I h-hate it, it’s so fucking embarassing but it feels so good.”

Hurlish’s reward for her obedience was simple. She crawled up onto the bed, positioning Sara beneath her in the simplest, easiest, most plain-old-vanilla type of sex imaginable. Sara was about to get pregnant from being fucked missionary-style. There couldn’t have been a less unusual, less unique, or more stereotypical kind of sex than that, and it should have made someone like her roll her eyes and scoff.

Instead her body was wracked by another involuntary shudder, a long, stuttery moan filling the air.

“You remember what your Class is, right?” Hurlish drew her hips up, robbing Sara of that beautiful sense of being full, and then she held herself there, taunting, barely inside. “Mother. Family Guardian. And then Champion. You shouldn’t be surprised that collar hasn’t popped off yet. You knew your place from the start.”

Hurlish threw her hips down.

It was like a bomb going off in Sara’s head. What was left of her thoughts were scattered by that savage thrust, replaced by that pulsating, all-consuming pleasure. She felt herself bend under Hurlish, her tits bouncing on her chest, and she could do nothing other than wheeze and fling her arms up, wrapping them around Hurlish’s back, fingernails digging at her shoulderblades as if to scratch her bloody. But this was Hurlish. She was so much more than Sara. She couldn’t draw a single drop of blood. Only cling on and cry out.

The world seemed to shake with every thrust of Hurlish’s cock. Every time it hit Sara’s deepest walls was another white-hot burst of pleasure, and every inch she went further was another nail in the coffin holding her dignity. She moaned, she gasped, and she might have even tried to plead or beg for more, if she’d been able to string a single sentence together.

Her second climax rushed up on her like a charging bull. Sara might have seen it coming, but she couldn’t do anything about it. She didn’t have the will to resist the cock stirring up her insides, to deny it the surge of delight it had rightfully pulled from her. She still tried, still tried to fight it for some stupid reason, but…

“Come on,” Hurlish growled. “I know what you wanna do. You’ve already lost. You can let it all out.”

Couldn’t she have at least made it an order?

It didn’t matter. Sara’s body seized once more, lightning tearing through her skull. Hurlish didn’t even stop. Even as Sara shook and cried out and felt her cunt rippling along that massive cock, Hurlish kept fucking her, pounding her into the mattress with wet slaps of flesh against flesh. She could hear her own wetness in the air, their body’s sweat mingling together, and it was just another instrument in the symphony of her climax.

When she came down from her second orgasm, Sara’s body was spent. She lay there, collapsed on the bed, and still Hurlish fucked her. How? Sara didn’t know, but she was so grateful. She didn’t have to do anything. She just laid there and took it, and at that moment she was pretty sure it was the best thing she’d ever felt.

Without ceremony or care, Hurlish flipped her over. Sara found her face shoved into the mattress, her ass dragged up in the air. And why not? Face down, ass up, demeaning or not, why should she care? Everything Hurlish did to her was amazing. She loved it. She loved her wife.

“Evie,” Hurlish panted, the first sounds of strain tinging her words, “get your hands on her clit. I want you to feel her cum. I want you to watch her give up for me.”

If she’d had her Blessings, Sara would’ve liked to think that she could understand that. That she would have realized that Hurlish was in the midst of proving to their wife that Sara really was beneath her, that Evie should view Sara as just another way for Hurlish to get off. That, in Evie’s fucked-up view of sexuality and dominance and all that crap, Sara would lose her spot at the top of the totem pole, and no matter how happily Evie listened to Sara’s instructions in bed going forward, she’d always follow Hurlish’s orders first.

But she didn’t. It all felt too good. And when Evie’s slim, delicate fingers began their expert dance against her clit, the last chance she’d had to decipher anything at all fled in an instant.

“That collar still on?” Hurlish grunted. The sound of her thrusts filled the air, wet impacts against Sara’s ass. “‘Cause I’m close. So fucking close.” Hurlish bent low, one hand on the bed, the other still lifting Sara’s hips. “Gonna cum in you. Fill you the fuck up. We both know it’ll stick, don’t we? Your body won’t let you get away with anything else. How long until people will be able to tell, you think? Until they see your baby bump? ‘Cause they’ll know you wanted it. They know you coulda chosen not to get knocked up, and they’ll know you let me pump you full anyway.”

Through her own gasps and Hurlish’s moans, Sara heard the collar clinking steadily against the padlock. Sealed. She didn’t even bother to pretend it was going to break apart anymore.

“You can’t help yourself. Look at you. You want it, don’t you?”

“Y-yes,” Sara gasped.

“If you want it, you gotta be honest with me. Are you going to go get in fights while you’re pregnant?”

“N-no!”

“You going to stop drinking? Stop getting high? Keep yourself all safe and cooped up for me?”

“I p-promise!”

Hurlish barked out a loud, crude laugh. “Promising me, huh? Why do you think you need to be doing that, huh?”

Sara could feel tension in her gut. A spooling wire that was ready to explode. But even with Evie’s fingers on her, even stuffed so full of cock she couldn’t think straight, she couldn’t get there on her own.

“B-because I want it!” She whined. She tried to lift herself, to get on her hands and knees for Hurlish, but she couldn’t manage it, not while Hurlish was still throwing her into the bed. “W-waaant it. Want you to… to cum in me. Fill me up. Gonna be so… so hot.” The world spun dizzily as thoughts consumed her. “So much. Your c-cock’s so big. Gonna be… be dripping out of me. Hot and sticky. I’ve filled y-you up like that before. I wanna… I wanna know what it feels like…”

Sara felt Hurlish’s cock jump inside her. A twitch so violent it was a thrust on its own. The bigger woman let out a deep, furious growl, then grabbed Sara’s pixie-cut and lifted her head.

“Evie, kiss her.”

There was a flash of movement. Sara flinched, only to feel soft lips— so soft— pressing against hers, a tongue flicking behind.

She opened her mouth with a wanton moan, letting Evie into her. Her wife kissed her with a greed unlike any other, leaving the both of them drowning in one another. Slim, kind arms wrapped around Sara’s shoulders, a spine-tingling contrast to the harsh tugging at her hair, and Sara hung there for a time, lost in the endless bliss of a single perfect moment.

Then it got better.

With a final, primal cry, Hurlish shoved Sara down. Sara’s hips hit the bed hard enough to make the enchanted frame shake, driven down by the thick cock that pierced her through.

Hurlish came.

If she’d had the breath to do more than gasp, she could’ve sobbed into Evie’s mouth. She was stretched so wide that she felt the underside of Hurlish’s cock began to pulse, pumping and pumping, and then…

The splash. Sara felt white strings of cum hit her cervix like a punch to the gut, and she squealed for it. It wasn’t even magical, wasn’t addictive or laced with vampire venom or any of the crazy shit Sara had done for others, but it was still. So. Good.

Because she was being bred. Knocked up. Claimed by Hurlish, every pump etching her wife’s name into the walls of her cunt. She couldn’t stop it. Couldn’t even call what she experienced a climax, because it felt so much more like it was coming from elsewhere, sensations divorced from her body, some ethereal self floating up into heaven on the waves of a far-less-important climax.

I’m hers. Hers. Gonna be in her bed every night. Same bed. Our bed. She’s gonna take care of me. We’re gonna have a kid. No wars. No fighting. Just me. A mom. I’m gonna have a kid. Another kid. So good. So much. Hers. I’m hers.

While Sara drifted on that otherworldly high, her body followed its instincts, doing what it was built for. She threw her ass up into Hurlish with wild need, shoving her cock as deep as it could reach, and she cried out mindless sounds of relief and thanks into Evie’s kiss. She twisted from side to side, fingers and hands and wrists shaking uncontrollably, her stomach rolling. More dopamine than she’d known the body could make flooded her brain, sending her into the stratosphere with a better high than any drug she’d ever tried, loosening her joints and soothing her muscles like the practiced attentions of a hundred massages. She went limp, clenched up, then went limp again, each time falling just a bit further, Hurlish going with her, until she was laying on the bed, Hurlish laying atop her.

By the time it was over, Sara was leaking. Cum spilled out around Hurlish’s cock to drip onto the bed, smearing across her hips. She could smell it in the air, the final scent of sex that she’d been missing so far. Hurlish was tall enough that the back of her head was buried in her wife’s breasts, which was far from something she could complain about.

Eventually, Hurlish shifted, lifting herself up just long enough to roll onto her side and off of Sara. Evie’s warmth suddenly disappeared from her side, and then she heard a brief barrage of wet noises and feminine moans, followed by the quivering shake of the bed as Evie reached a climax with more ease than even Sara. The warmth of her body returned to Sara’s front, now with a considerably wetter spot between her smaller wife’s thighs.

They napped for a little while. Or tried to, anyway. Sara kept rubbing her thighs together as she felt the cum leak out of her. Wondering if Hurlish was right. If one was really all it would take, if her body really would just let it work. She probably was. Even if that wasn’t the case, she had her Blessings. Hurlish could just order her to make it stick. God knew that Sara was horny enough for the idea that her powers would work.

Eventually, maybe a half hour later, Hurlish yawned, one arm raising high as she stretched. Then she rolled over, thumps and clinks sounding as she fiddled with something at the bedside table.

“Here,” Hurlish said tiredly, shoving something in front of Sara’s mouth.

“Mm?” She hummed curiously, even as she obediently opened her mouth. A familiar tea poured in, which she swallowed without thought. Then she froze. “Wait.”

“What?”

“Wasn’t that the contraceptive tea?”

“Uh, yeah?” Hurlish tossed the emptied wooden cup across the room. “Of course.”

“But… I thought…”

She felt Hurlish cock her head in confusion. Then there was a rush of air as her wife’s chest swelled up. Blessings or not, Sara knew her wife well enough to reach up and hurriedly cover Evie’s ears.

“HA!” Hurlish’s laughter boomed in the empty tent. “Ha! Fucking hell girl, are you kidding me?!” She asked, still laughing.

“What? What?!” Sara shouted back.

“Did you forget that this shit works after you fuck, too?” She cackled. “You did, didn’t you? Holy fuck, Sara!”

“It what?”

“You knew that! Come on, you knew that!”

Sara’s cock-stirred brain raced, trying to recover anything about the tea. She’d just been drinking it for so long, she never really gave it any thought, and…

“Oh my god,” she whispered.

“You didn’t!” Hurlish’s incredulous laughter filled the air. “You thought I was really knocking you up? And the collar still didn’t pop off? Holy SHIT, Sara!”

“No swearing around Tahn,” a half-asleep Evie murmured.

“Oh, we better hope he can’t hear us in that crib, or else we woulda had some real problems,” Hurlish assured her. “But seriously! Sara, what in the hells? How could you forget that? I know for a fact that you’ve fucked a girl and had her drink the tea afterwards!”

The blush from earlier returned with a vengeance. Sara tried to squirm around to face Hurlish, but the bigger woman locked her down in an instant, keeping her pressed into her cleavage.

“I w-wasn’t really th-thinking about it-” Sara stammered.

“And the collar didn’t pop off!” Hurlish repeated. “It didn’t! You were fine with all that!”

“I was horny!” Sara wailed. “I wasn’t thinking straight!”

“That’s not how the collar works!” Hurlish crowed. “It knows what you really want! That’s the whole damn point! And that means you want me to-”

“Sh-shut up!” Sara shouted.

“No!” Hurlish bellowed, but laughter overcame her before she could continue. The whole bed shook with it, her deep, bassy amusement echoing in the hollow of Sara’s chest. She squeezed Evie closer and buried her face into the woman’s shoulder to conceal her blush, which was, of course, still on her old earth face. She stayed there while she let Hurlish work her laughter out, which ended up taking quite a while.

Eventually, thankfully, Hurlish got herself under enough control to press a kiss to the top of her head, though she was still chuckling.

“Nah, Sara, I’m not gonna just forcefully knock you up. You’re doing important shit.”

“G-good.”

“But you do need to get your shit under control, alright?” Hurlish gave Sara a tight hug. “Don’t want you dropping dead from stress before you turn thirty. You’re gonna get some regular sleep if it’s the last thing I do, alright?” A grin crept into her voice. “Especially now that I know that I can just grab you around the hips and bend you over-”

“Shut up!”

Hurlish dissolved into laughter yet again. Ignoring her blush and absolutely hideous, all-consuming embarrassment, Sara did her best to let herself drift toward unconsciousness, though her swirling thoughts took time to drift to a stop.

She wanted to fight. She knew that. She needed to fight. She had a kid now. Two kids, basically. She’d do anything to have them live in a better world. But…

Sara would fight for a better world. She’d do everything in her power to bring it into existence. She knew that was true. She believed it with everything she had. And yet, despite that, she still hadn’t taken off the collar.

Look, she reasoned with herself, when a hot lady says she wants you barefoot and pregnant, ideology might take a little sidestep. That’s not hypocrisy. That’s just… libido. A fun fantasy. Not something that’s gonna happen.

She licked her lips.

Not something that’s gonna happen right away, at least.

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