The morning light filtered through the wooden slats, pale and heavy like frozen rain. Elandra had just left the cabin, her footsteps fading on the suspended walkways. The silence that followed was anything but peaceful. It was a stifling silence, a blanket of wood and sweat where each breath became too loud. Opposite me, Lyanna sat, upright but fragile, her fingers clenched on the edge of the table as if she were gripping it to keep from sinking. Her eyes avoided mine, caught by the reflections of the bowl of fruit between us, but her breathing already betrayed her unease: too shallow, too ragged, as if each breath was costing her.
I rested my elbows on the polished wood, leaning slightly toward her.
"We need to talk."
My voice cut through the air like a knife. Her shoulders barely trembled, but I saw the tension creep up to the back of her neck. She pursed her lips, hesitated for a long time, then looked up. Her gaze, clear and shifty, finally locked onto mine with desperate strength.
"The last man... He's dead," she said in a low, strangled voice. "Cursed. Like me. I knew it the moment he entered me... I destroy those I love."
Her left hand moved from the table to rest on her flat stomach, an instinctive, protective, almost shameful gesture. Her fingers trembled. Her other hand came up to cover the first, as if to hold inside a truth she didn't want to let escape.
I let her speak, my throat tight with the fragility she was exposing. Her words were those of a condemned woman, a child raised with the certainty that her body was a tomb. She expected pity from me, or perhaps flight. But I hadn't come to look away.
I straightened up, placed my palms flat on the wood, and stared at her with an intensity that pinned her to her chair.
"No," I breathed. "It's not you. It's not your body. It's the Church."
She blinked, her breath hitching.
"The Church...?"
"Yes," I said more firmly. "The Church of Purity. They cursed your mother, and you through her. They swore that your womb would never know life, that your pleasure would never bring anything but death. It was their revenge, their way of destroying this village. You destroyed nothing. You were condemned before you were even born."
Her lips parted, trembling. She shook her head in disbelief, but I could already see my words seeping in. Her chest was rising too fast, her cheeks flushing, not with desire but with fear mixed with hope.
"Then... why you?" she stammered. "Why would you be any different?"
I leaned closer, far enough so that my bare chest stretched in the morning light, marked by the glowing scar of the seal. My voice fell lower, raspy, like a blade pressed against her fragile skin.
"Because I am the Apostle of the Goddess. Because what you believe to be a curse, I can break. Not tomorrow. Not one day. Now."
Her hands tightened against her stomach. Her lips trembled as if she were still trying to protest, but her eyes betrayed her. In this mixture of panic and hope, I read the crack that had just opened.
Then I stood up slowly, as if every movement could break the tenuous thread that still connected us. Lyanna didn't move, but her eyes widened as I rounded the table. She could have backed away, fled like a frightened deer; yet she remained frozen, trembling in her chair. When my hand rested on her cheek, her skin was warm beneath my fingers, damp with a light sweat that betrayed fear even more than heat.
"You have nothing to fear," I murmured.
Her lips parted, hesitant, but no words came out. So I leaned down, and mine sought hers. This first contact was almost unreal in its gentleness, a touch that wavered between promise and prohibition. She jumped, then gave in, her parted lips clinging to mine with touching clumsiness. The kiss gained in intensity, from timid to breathless, her short breaths mingling with mine, her neck arching in spite of herself to offer me more.
My fingers left her cheek to slide towards her loincloth. I grasped it with a measured gesture, letting the fabric crumple in my hands before pulling it slowly. She tried to hold back the movement, her fingers tightening for a moment on my hand, but already the veil of fibers was sliding down her pale thighs, exposing their fragile curves. She looked away, ashamed, but her legs didn't close.
I rained kisses down her neck. Her throat vibrated with a muffled, hoarse moan, which she tried to hold back by biting her lower lip. My lips moved downward, tasting her damp skin, sucking in the salty flavor of her fear mixed with anticipation. Her hands came to grip my shoulders, as if she wanted to push me away but couldn't find the strength to do so.
I bent down further, brushed the base of her breasts, then closed my mouth over a nipple that stood erect beneath the damp silk. Her moan came out, short and sharp, her fingers clenching in my hair.
"Aaah... not... not so loud...!" she gasped, her voice cracking with a mixture of pain and fever.
I barely released my grip, then returned, gentler, my tongue tracing long circles around her areola before taking the firm tip between my lips again. Her back arched in an involuntary spasm, her breath caught in my throat. And in that mixture of shame and abandonment, I felt the barrier give way.
I gently pulled her toward me, helping her up from the chair. She followed me, hesitant, her legs wobbling as if they no longer belonged to her. The large polished wooden table loomed behind her, massive, motionless, like a makeshift altar. I placed my hands on her slender hips and hoisted her up, laying her down on the surface. The wood groaned under her weight, her hair spilled around her face like a dark halo, and her breasts immediately rose, heavy, taut, their stiff tips calling for my mouth. Her thighs trembled, half-open, unable to hide the dampness that already bound them together.
I leaned down first to her stomach, tasting the salt on her skin. My tongue traced a slow line along its fragile curve, each shudder she emitted resonating in my chest. She stifled a cry when I nibbled the tender skin just above her navel, her back arching sharply, her fingers tightening on the edge of the table.
"Aaah…!" she moaned, unable to hold back her moan.
I moved lower, kiss after kiss, until my breath touched the acrid, sweet scent of her swollen sex. She tried to close her thighs, a reflex of modesty, but I spread them gently, holding them open under my palms. Her innermost being then revealed itself, wet, throbbing, and I plunged in with a single, swift movement. My tongue found her clitoris, circled it slowly at first, then pressed harder.
She cried out, her hips rising in a sudden spasm.
— "Nhhhaaahhh…!"
I didn't pull away. My mouth anchored, sucking, my tongue searching every fold while my fingers slid lower, gently sinking inside her. Her pussy immediately closed around me, burning, convulsing as if to both reject and hold me. Her body arched, her arms flailing, her hands searching for support, grasping at the air.
— "Aaahhh…! I… I've never… felt like this…!" she gasped, her voice breaking into sobs.
I redoubled my ardor, alternating between biting my teeth on her swollen nub and pushing my fingers deeper inside her. Her pelvis rolled of its own accord, uncoordinated, as if it had found a rhythm beyond its control. Her thighs sometimes closed against my cheeks, almost crushing me, but I pushed them back each time, roughly, to maintain access to its source.
Then it exploded. Her scream rose, heart-rending, almost animal-like. Her abs stiffened, her back bent like a bow, and a hot spurt spurted out, splashing my fingers, my mouth, the very wood of the table. She screamed again, her head thrown back, her eyes rolling back, her stomach wracked with uncontrolled convulsions.
I drank, I bit, I let her shatter between my hands and my tongue. Her orgasm ripped through her like a storm, violent, uncontrolled, until her thighs fell back, open, trembling, dripping with a pleasure she had never thought possible.
I raised my head, my mouth still wet with her juices, and saw her collapsed on the table, panting, her glistening thighs parted, her heavy breasts rising toward the ceiling like two cries for bite. Her half-closed eyes trembled, drowned in a dizziness she could no longer control. I wiped the liquid dripping from my chin with the back of my hand, then leaned down again, my lips eagerly regaining hers. Her kiss, this time, was no longer hesitant: she grabbed me like a drowning woman clinging to a lifebuoy, her hands gripping my shoulders, pulling my dripping chest against hers.
My cock, hard to the point of pain, rubbed against her soaked abdomen. She jumped, a strangled cry ripping from her throat. Her fingers trembled as they slid down to my waist, as if she was hesitating between pushing me away and pulling me inside her.
I sat up just enough to look her in the eyes.
"Let me…"
She shook her head, her trembling lips stammering under her breath:
—Easy… I… I'm burning…
I guided my swollen cock against her moist opening. Her pussy, already swollen from orgasm, contracted in a nervous spasm as the head pressed against it. A hoarse moan ripped through me, wrenched from my stomach.
"Hold me…" I breathed, my voice strangled. "Let me open you."
I pushed, slowly. Her heat engulfed me in a burning vice. Her pussy was so tight that every millimeter almost tore me apart, as if her body was still struggling against the intrusion. She screamed, her nails digging into my shoulders.
"Aaaahhh…! Too much…! Aaahhh…!"
I stopped, my breath hitching, my throat dry. Her chest heaved in violent arcs, her hard nipples rubbing my skin in burning flashes. I started again, gentler, moving in jerks, each movement accompanied by her broken moans.
— Hhhhnnn…! Gently…!
I kissed her to stifle her cries, biting her lip until it bled. Her pelvis finally gave way, opening further, and I pushed deeper. Her vagina immediately closed around me, squeezing hard enough to make my nerves burst.
— Fuck… you… you're crushing me… I gasped, my eyes rolling back.
She gasped, her face flooded with tears and fever.
— Aaahhh…! I… I can't…!
Every thrust became a struggle. She screamed, moaned, her trembling thighs wrapped around my waist in spite of herself. My cock pounded against her walls, engulfed in a stifling wetness.
— Aaahhh…! More…! More...! she suddenly cried, her moans turning into pleas.
I grunted through clenched teeth. The sensation was too strong, too tight, too hot. I felt my orgasm swelling, threatening to break me. So I slowed down, my thrusts became more measured, trying to delay the inevitable.
"Hold me..." I repeated, panting. "If you hold me any longer... I'll..."
And suddenly, the door burst open with a sharp bang.
I froze, my cock still buried deep inside her. Her cry died in her throat, her eyes widened.
In the doorway, Elandra.
The village chief. Her mother.
She stared at us. Her cold, golden pupils shone like two blades in the gloom.
At first, I thought I saw lightning flash in her eyes. She said nothing, not a cry, not a breath, and this silence chilled the back of my neck more than a threat. Then, slowly, her lips stretched into a cruel smile.
"Idiot," she said finally, her deep voice rolling like a drum. "I knew after yesterday, this would happen. And you're going to die."
Her words crashed out, heavy, final. But I didn't stop. My hips continued their slow thrust, my cock sinking into Lyanna's burning pussy. She immediately screamed, her thighs clamping around my waist as if to hold me back. I stared into Elandra's eyes, my breath rasping, each thrust punctuated by her daughter's moan.
"No," I replied, my throat tight but my voice firm. "Look carefully: I am the Apostle of the Goddess."
The shock of my hips made the table shake, Lyanna's cry rose suddenly, sharp, broken. Her fingers clawed at the wood, her tears streamed down her reddened cheeks, but her mouth could only plead:
"Aaaahhh...! More... I... I'm burning...!"
Elandra didn't look away. Her smile had frozen, but her nostrils flared. Her hands, clenched on the doorframe, turned white with the effort. She watched, impassive at first, then increasingly troubled. With each moan from her daughter, her pupils dilated. With each burst of pleasure torn from her, her massive chest heaved faster, her breathing heavier.
I continued, relentless, increasing my thrusts as if to challenge her authority. Lyanna screamed again, her voice breaking into an almost animal-like wail.
"Nhhhaaahhh…! I… I can't take it anymore…!"
I felt Elandra's body stiffen. Her thighs, under her loincloth, shuddered imperceptibly. She bit her lip, as if trying to hold back an emotion that was burning within her. But it was too late: her eyes, hard and icy, were already clouding with a wet glow, a feverish glare she could no longer control.
And I, without stopping staring at her, forced her to watch her daughter break under my blows, scream with pleasure, open herself to ecstasy - until even the leader, the iron woman, could not ignore that she too was trembling, excited in spite of herself.
I arched my back one last time, my hips slamming deep inside Lyanna. Her entire body contracted, convulsed around me, and her cry exploded, high-pitched, broken:
"Aaaaaahhhhhh…!"
Her back arched, her trembling thighs arched, and a hot wave burst from me, filling her tight pussy until it drowned her. I felt her writhe, scream again, her nails clawing at my arms, her juices splashing our stomachs in an uncontrolled squirt.
"Hhhhaaahhh…! This… is too much… I'm coming… I'm coming…!"
I groaned, my eyes burning with fever, and in that incandescent spasm, the seal on my chest burst into flames. The red light burst, projecting our silhouettes onto the walls. I remained frozen inside her for a moment, my cum still pulsing, then I slowly sat up, my breath ripped away.
My hand spread her still-trembling thighs. I raised my head, staring straight into Elandra's eyes. In a hoarse voice, I spat,
"Look. I live. Her curse is broken."
Lyanna, shaken by spasms, was still panting, her eyes rolling back, her thighs dripping. Her moans died away in hoarse sobs, but her stomach was already vibrating with a new, palpable warmth, as if each discharge had purified her.
Elandra, on the other hand, faltered. Her lips parted, her mask of leadership crumbled. Her eyes misted over, and suddenly she fell to her knees. Her hands hit the ground, her shoulders trembled.
— "Impossible..." she murmured at first, hoarse. Then her voice burst into tears, torn: "Impossible... and yet... you live..."
Her cheeks streamed, her heavy breasts crushed against her sobbing chest, and she finally raised her shining eyes to me.
— "Thank you..." she breathed, her words broken by emotion. "Apostle... thank you... you saved her..."
Lyanna moaned again, her trembling fingers searching for mine. Her broken, breathless voice rose like a prayer:
— "Aaahhh... I... I'm free... I feel it..."
I placed a firm hand on her heaving chest, the other revealing the glowing seal. The mark still blazed, alive, irrefutable.
I breathed, hard, implacable:
"It is the Goddess's blessing. Lust doesn't destroy. It liberates."
Elandra sobbed on her knees, her thighs trembling, shaken by spasms of both shame and gratitude. Her daughter gasped, still stuck to me, dripping with cum and pleasure, but freed.
And I, standing in the center, was the one holding them both.
The silence weighed, saturated with muffled moans and tears. Lyanna, still open beneath me, gasped in uncontrollable jerks, her pussy dripping with cum and her own juices. Her thighs trembled, her breasts heaving with each ragged breath. Elandra, for her part, remained on her knees, collapsed, her shoulders shaking with sobs. Her proud leader's mask had shattered, leaving only a mother, frightened and grateful, kneeling before the miracle.
I slowly withdrew my cock from her daughter's womb. The wet sound resonated obscenely, followed by a thick trickle that dripped down her still-parted lips. Lyanna moaned, her rolled-back eyes closing in a prolonged spasm of pleasure.
I sat up, my chest dripping with sweat, and turned to Elandra. My sex was still throbbing, glistening with the sticky mixture of cum and feminine juice. I reached out to her, my voice falling like a sharp command:
"Clean my cock."
She raised her head. Her golden eyes, wet with tears, fixed on mine. For a moment, I thought I saw the radiance of the leader again, the icy hardness of her authority. But that radiance shattered immediately. Her lips parted, trembling, and a raspy breath escaped them. She crawled towards me, her heavy breasts swaying, her thick thighs caked with sweat.
Her hands, usually so firm, trembled as they rested on my thighs. She opened her mouth, hesitated for a second longer—then leaned forward. Her lips closed around my glistening shaft, and the first taste of the mixture gushed onto her tongue. A guttural moan immediately escaped her throat.
"Nhhhhhh..."
She sucked in a deeper breath, swallowing slowly, her mouth filling with the cum mingled with her daughter's juices. Her eyes closed, her cheeks hollowed in a trembling suction. Each movement of her tongue licking along my cock drew an obscene noise that filled the cabin.
I watched her do this, my fingers tangling in her damp hair to guide her. She obeyed without protest, drawn in by the forbidden taste. Each sip seemed to further crack her leader's mask. Her forehead creased, her eyebrows tightened, and her throat released rasps she would never have uttered in public.
—"Aaahhh..." she breathed, catching her breath for a moment, her lips swollen and shiny. Her eyes opened on me, but they were no longer the gaze of a queen. They were those of a broken woman, drunk with shame and fever.
She leaned down again, moaning, and continued, more eager. Her tongue swirled over my head, licking every trace of Lyanna's juices, every drop of cum. Her breaths came in harsh sobs, her hands clenched my thighs as if to cling to reality.
I groaned, gripping her hair tighter, and the cabin echoed with this raw symphony: the shameful moans of a female leader, the wheezing of a girl still trembling on the table, and my master's moans savoring their collapse.
Elandra had lost her mask. Beneath my cock, she was no longer leader, nor queen, nor mother. She was just a woman drowning in the taste of my cum and her own daughter's juices.
Their bodies were already dripping, marked by my blows and my discharges, but neither moved away. They stood, mother and daughter, panting, their hands intertwined, their cheeks pressed together in a dampness of tears and sweat. The air in the cabin vibrated with mingled moans, hoarse sobs, and cries of ecstasy.
I brought them closer, guiding their lips together. The first kiss was trembling, almost shameful, but soon their tongues intertwined, eager, exchanging my seed still on their lips. Elandra moaned first, her deep voice ripped with a desire she could no longer hide, and Lyanna responded, her own broken sighs escaping against her mother's mouth.
I lay back, and Lyanna climbed onto my chest, her slender thighs framing my face. Her juices were still dripping from her throbbing pussy, and I plunged my tongue inside her without delay. Her cry immediately reverberated against the walls, high-pitched, uncontrolled:
"Aaahhh...! Yes... there... I... I'm cumming already...!"
Meanwhile, Elandra impaled herself suddenly on my stiff cock, her wide pelvis slapping against mine. Her guttural moan mingled with her daughter's moans, her massive breasts bouncing with every movement.
"Harder...!" she screamed, her nails scratching my chest. "Fill me again...!"
I held them both: my tongue devouring the daughter, my cock impaling the mother. Their moans overlapped, creating a raw, wild symphony. And above me, they were still kissing, their mouths full of sobs, ecstasy, and cum.
I turned them both over, putting them on all fours, side by side, their asses pressed against my hips. I switched from one to the other, filling them in turn, each screaming louder when the other came. Their fingers gripped, their foreheads pressed together, and they screamed words they would never have dared to utter in broad daylight.
— "I love you, Mommy...!" Lyanna sobbed, her face contorted by orgasm.
— "Me too... I love you, my daughter...!" " Elandra screamed, her thighs trembling under my blows.
I continued until I broke them, orgasm after orgasm, giving them everything, filling them with cum until their bellies vibrated under my hands. They screamed, they cried, they laughed in a scarlet trance, and I took them again, endlessly, until the night finally faded behind the vines.
And that night... Lust devoured us until dawn.