"GUH!"
"K-Kiba! Are you alright?!"
"Y-Yeah, I'm... ah... fine..."
"Your sword, it's broken! It's not healing this time!"
"Shit, you shitty swordsman! I broke your shitty sword!" Freed cackled, his laughter a high-pitched, nails-on-a-chalkboard screech that grated on the nerves. He held the amalgamated Excalibur above him, a monstrous, shifting blade that hummed with chaotic, holy power. It wasn't one sword anymore, as instead it was a chimera of three, a vortex of razor-sharp light and destructive energy that defied logic. "Your little toy can't handle the power of a real holy sword! You're nothing! You're all nothing!"
The words struck Kiba harder than the blade itself. He stared down at the hilt in his hand, at the jagged, useless stump of metal that had once been his Sword Birth. For the first time since he had awakened his Sacred Gear, it felt silent, dead. The connection was severed, a phantom limb amputated without anesthetic. A cold, hollow ache spread through his chest, a familiar, suffocating dread that he had felt a hundred times in the sterile labs of the Holy Sword Project. He was weak again. Helpless.
Issei watched him fall, watched the light dim in his friend's eyes, and clicked his tongue in annoyance.
"Damn it... We should've told Buchou about this plan after all," he muttered, wiping a smear of blood from his cheek.
He glanced around, taking in the exhausted and injured forms of his friends as they stood in Kuoh Academy's courtyard. Himself, Kiba, Asia, Koneko, and the two exorcists, Irina and Xenovia, had gone after Freed and Valper Gelilei on their own. However, right now, they were struggling, and they were struggling badly. Valper had combined Freed's Excalibur fragments into one sword, and now, through using its overpowered abilities, he could easily dominate the fight. Issei was the only one strong enough to keep up with him, and it was showing.
Irina and Xenovia had lost their swords already, as they sat on the floor next to Valper after Freed ripped them from their grips, and Kiba was running out of energy to keep up his Sacred Gear. Asia was sweating from the effort of trying to heal everyone, while Koneko was covered in scratches and breathing heavily as well.
"Damn it... I've become so much stronger recently, but it feels like it was for nothing!" Issei hissed, "Those Holy Swords are just too strong..."
Even if Issei had become far stronger and physically outmatched Freed even with the Excalibur's combined, they were still up against Holy Swords. The swords were the direct counter to devils, and just by being near them, Issei could feel his inner power struggling to come out. On top of that, they weren't just up against any Holy Swords, but the Excaliburs. Even with all the power he'd gained from Riser and the others, he still wasn't strong enough to take on both Freed and the combination of Excaliburs.
Xenovia collapsed to her knees next to him, her blue hair matted with sweat and blood. "Issei... I don't... I don't know what to do," she stammered, her usual stoic composure shattered by the raw, overwhelming power of their enemy. "This... this is beyond us. We might... we might all really die here."
The words hung in the air, a cold, heavy blanket of despair. Irina, clutching her bleeding arm, could only nod, her face pale and tight with fear. Even the mighty Holy Sword-wielders were brought to their knees, their faith in their divine weapons shaken to the core.
Issei's gaze darted to Asia, who was frantically trying to heal a deep gash on Koneko's arm, her small hands glowing with a soft, desperate light. Her eyes found his, a flicker of wild, desperate hope in their depths.
"Ise-kun..." she began, her voice trembling slightly. "Only you... Only you can win this battle now. We need to bring out your power. All of it."
Issei's stomach twisted into a cold, tight knot. He knew what she was suggesting. The memory of the dusty house, of her naked form, of Freed's brutal thrusts, and of the agonizing, soul-shattering pleasure that had followed all came rushing back in a nauseating wave.
"No... no, Asia, we can't," he choked out, the words a strangled whisper. "That... that was too much. I can't... I can't ask you to do that again."
A deep, rosy blush spread across Asia's cheeks, a stark, unnerving contrast to the fear in her eyes. She looked down, her small hands twisting in the fabric of her Kuoh Academy skirt.
"I... I have to, Ise-kun," she said, her voice so low he had to strain to hear it. "We have to survive. And... and it's not just for survival. After... after Father Sellzen... before... he was so rough... I can't stop thinking about it. About him."
Her blush deepened, her confession hanging in the smoke-filled air like a profane prayer. "His... his cock... I... I want it again. T-That feeling of being taken..."
Issei froze at her words, but his body betrayed him as his cock twitched in his pants, starting to grow harder.
Xenovia, clutching her bleeding shoulder, stared at them, her brow furrowed in confusion. "What are you talking about? What does this have to do with anything? His cock? We need a plan, not a perverted confessional!"
Irina, her face pale with pain and exertion, looked between them, her expression a mixture of disgust and bewilderment. "Asia, what are you saying? This is no time for... for that!"
Before Issei could stammer out a denial, before Asia could elaborate, a flat, emotionless voice cut through the tense silence.
"He gets stronger when he's cuckolded."
All heads turned to Koneko.
She stood there, her small, pale form a stark statue against the chaos of the battlefield. Her expression was as unreadable as ever, a blank canvas of stoicism. But her words, delivered with the same placid tone she'd use to comment on the weather, landed like a bomb.
"He experiences extreme jealousy," she elaborated, her gaze fixed on the two shocked exorcists. "The emotional anguish translates directly into a surge of power through his Sacred Gear. The greater the humiliation, the greater the power."
Xenovia's jaw went slack. Irina looked like she was going to be sick.
"You... you power up by... by being cucked?" Xenovia repeated the words, sounding foreign and absurd on her tongue. "That's... that's the most pathetic, and the most depraved thing I have ever heard."
Irina simply shook her head, "Lord... forgive them. That's... that's not power. That's a sickness."
Issei felt a fresh wave of shame wash over him, so potent it was almost a physical force. He wanted the ground to open up and swallow him whole. He wanted to deny it, to scream that it was all a lie, a misunderstanding. But he couldn't. Because it was true. Every humiliating, agonizing word of it.
"It doesn't matter what you call it!" Asia cried out, her small hands clenched into fists at her sides. Her earlier blush was gone, replaced by a desperate, fierce resolve. "If it works, it works! We need to survive! And I... I'll do whatever it takes!"
She took a step forward, her hands moving to the hem of her uniform skirt. Her eyes, wide and tearful, were fixed on Freed, a flicker of that dark, conflicted memory in their depths.
But before she could take another step, another figure moved.
Koneko.
"Hey, perverted old man, and crazy dude," She called out bluntly and flatly, her high-pitched, cute voice a strange counterpoint to the carnage around them. She turned around, reaching down as she grabbed her skirt, and then pulled it down as she let her massive, bubbly rear flop out for their eyes to take in, "Stop fighting. If you do, you can... have me."
Xenovia's jaw went slack. Irina let out a choked gasp of disbelief.
Issei stared, his mind refusing to process what was happening. Not Rias. Not Akeno. Not even Asia, who had confessed her dark desires. But Koneko. The stoic, silent, emotionless Rook. The girl who treated all forms of perversion with a look of profound, soul-crushing disgust. The girl who had smashed him into the floor for simply existing near her. Was offering herself. To them.
There was a flicker of movement in the corner of his eye. Valper, the old scientist, adjusted his glasses, a clinical, unnerving light in his eyes as he stared at the pale, perfect cheeks on display. He looked like an entomologist who had just discovered a new, rare species of butterfly, a specimen to be pinned, dissected, and understood.
Freed, however, was not so subtle.
He started to laugh.
It started as a low chuckle, then built into a high-pitched, hysterical cackle that echoed across the ruined courtyard. He doubled over, slapping his knee, the monstrous Excalibur clutched loosely in his other hand.
"HA! HA HA HA! Oh, this is RICH!" he howled, tears of mirth streaming down his face. He pointed a trembling finger at Koneko, a look of pure, unadulterated glee on his face. "Look at this! The little kitty-cat is offering up her tight little ass! What's the matter, you shitty little devil? Did your boyfriend over there leave you unsatisfied? Do you need a real man to show you what a good fucking feels like?"
His laughter was a physical assault, a wave of pure, sadistic mockery that washed over them. He took a step forward, then another, his swagger returning, a predator who had just been offered the easiest meal of his life.
"Well, I'm not one to look a gift horse in the mouth... or a gift devil in the ass," he leered, his eyes devouring the sight of her pale, perfect flesh. "You've got a deal, you little slut. Come here, and I'll fuck you so hard you won't be able to walk straight for a week!"
"Freed! Focus! The mission!" Valper snapped, his voice tight with impatience. "Don't be distracted by such... base temptations!"
But even as he spoke, a new movement caught his eye.
Asia.
She took a hesitant step forward, and her small hands trembled as they went to the buttons of her uniform blouse. One by one, she undid them, her movements clumsy and fumbling. The green fabric parted, revealing the simple, innocent white bra beneath.
"No..." Issei choked out, the word a strangled whisper of protest.
But Asia didn't hear him. She was lost in her own desperate mission. She pulled the blouse from her shoulders, letting it fall to the dusty ground. Then, with a deep, shuddering breath, she reached behind her and unhooked her bra. The white lace fell away, and her breasts were exposed.
They were magnificent. Two full, round globes of pale, creamy flesh that seemed impossibly large on her small frame. They tipped forward slightly, their soft weight defying gravity, the nipples already hardening into tight, rosy buds that seemed to plead for a touch.
"Please..." she begged, her small hands cupping the undersides of her breasts, lifting them, offering them up like a sacrifice. Her eyes, wide and tearful, were fixed on the old scientist. "Please, Valper-sama. Spare us. Take me instead. Use me. I'll... I'll do anything."
Valper's jaw went slack. His clinical, analytical gaze flickered, replaced by a raw lust. He stared at her breasts, at the way her small hands squeezed the soft flesh, a slow, predatory smile spreading across his ancient face. His earlier complaints about distractions died in his throat, replaced by a low, appreciative hum.
"Well, well," he breathed, adjusting his glasses, a gesture that did nothing to hide the fire in his eyes. "The Holy Maiden offering herself to me. And who am I to decline such a... charitable offer?"
Issei's cock, already a throbbing, traitorous organ in his pants, gave a violent lurch. The sight of sweet, innocent Asia, a girl who embodied everything pure and holy, offering herself to that twisted old man... it was a fresh wave of agony, a dark, intoxicating poison.
But the poison wasn't finished spreading.
A soft, resigned sigh escaped Xenovia's lips. She looked at Asia, then at the leering Valper, and finally at the manic Freed, her expression a mixture of disgust and a grim, desperate resolve.
"This is depraved," she said, her voice flat, devoid of emotion. "But if this is the price of victory... if this is what it takes to see our mission completed... then so be it."
Irina, her face pale, nodded slowly.
"I agree," she whispered, the words a fragile prayer against the tide of depravity. "If... if this is the path we must walk... then I will walk it. For our cause."
They moved in unison, a strange, solemn dance of surrender. Their hands, which had been wielded to hold holy swords, now moved to disrobe. Their tight outfits fell onto the dusty ground. Xenovia, her athletic body a canvas of hard muscle and soft curves, stripped with a cold, detached efficiency. Her breasts were large and firm, capped with small, pale pink nipples that stood at attention in the cool night air. Her stomach was a flat, toned plane, her hips narrow, leading down to her slit.
Irina, beside her, was softer, more delicate. Her movements were hesitant, shy, as if she couldn't quite believe what she was doing. Her breasts were smaller than Xenovia's but no less perfect, pale, creamy mounds with large, rosy areolas. Her body, unmarred by the harshness of battle, was a vision of innocent, sacrificial beauty.
Xenovia walked toward Freed, her steps steady, her gaze fixed on him with a look of grim determination. She stopped directly in front of him, her naked body bathed in the chaotic light of his monstrous sword. She didn't flinch, didn't blush. She simply stood there, a warrior offering herself to the beast.
"Do what you want with me," she said, her voice flat, devoid of any emotion but a steely resolve. "Spare the others. That is all I ask."
Irina, her face a mask of horrified shame, walked toward Valper. She stood next to Asia, the two of them a study in contrasts—Asia, whose shame was mixed with a dark, reluctant excitement, and Irina, whose every fiber screamed against this sacrilege. They stood side by side, two holy maidens, naked and trembling, before the leering old scientist.
Valper's eyes, magnified by his thick glasses, gleamed with a lust that was almost academic in its intensity. He looked from Irina's soft, trembling form to Asia's more curvaceous, reluctant one.
"Incredible," he breathed, the word a soft, reverent whisper. "An exorcist standing before me, willing. Corrupting a holy maiden is one thing, but two..."
He let out a low, triumphant chuckle. "This is an unprecedented opportunity. I will learn so much."
Freed let out a high-pitched cackle of pure glee. He looked from Xenovia's cool, athletic body to Koneko's smaller, softer form.
"A holy bitch and a tight little devil cat! This is the best fucking day of my life!" He practically danced on the spot, his manic energy a terrifying thing to behold.
With a single, clumsy motion, he hooked his thumbs into the waistband of his pants and shoved them down. His cock, already straining against the fabric, sprang free. It was a brutish, angry-looking thing, thick and veiny, flushed with a dark, desperate arousal.
Across the way, Valper, with far more deliberate, almost surgical precision, unbuttoned his own trousers. His movements were slow, controlled. He let them fall, revealing a pale, thin frame, but between his legs, a cock that, while not as monstrously thick as Freed's, was surprisingly long and thin, with a distinctive, sharply curved head that looked like a cruel instrument.
Issei didn't even think. His hands were on his own pants, shoving them down. His cock, a hot, heavy weight, slapped against his stomach. He wrapped a trembling hand around it, the contact a bolt of pure lightning. He was rock hard, so hard it hurt. The jealousy was a physical force, a suffocating pressure in his chest, but beneath it was the dark, undeniable thrill, the masochistic ecstasy that was becoming his only source of real strength.
He started to stroke, a slow, steady rhythm as he watched the nightmare unfold.
"FUCK, look at these asses!" Freed roared, a man presented with a feast. He practically lunged forward, his hands shooting out, grabbing two handfuls of glorious, naked flesh. His left hand clamped onto Xenovia's firm, athletic buttock, the muscle tensing under his rough grip. His right hand found Koneko's massive, bubbly rear, the soft, pale flesh yielding under his touch.
He squeezed, hard, a proprietary, possessive gesture that made both women grunt. "So firm! And so fucking soft! I'm in heaven!"
Issei's strokes quickened, the friction a raw fire. He saw Freed's hands on them, on the women who were fighting by his side, and the humiliation was a potent, intoxicating drug.
Freed leaned in, his face inches from Xenovia's. She stood her ground, her jaw tight, her blue eyes locked with his wild, manic gaze, a statue of defiant sacrifice.
Without warning, he smashed his lips against hers.
It wasn't a kiss. It was an assault. A brutal, devouring invasion. His tongue forced its way into her mouth, a raw, dominant act. He mauled her, his other hand coming up to roughly grope her breast, squeezing the firm mound, twisting the hard nipple between his fingers. She moaned, taking a step back as she was caught off guard by the abrupt pleasure.
His other hand, the one still gripping Koneko's ass, tightened. He suddenly broke the kiss with Xenovia, a string of saliva connecting them. He turned his attention to the smaller girl.
His free hand shot up, wrapping around her slender neck. He didn't choke her, not hard enough to cut off her air, but it was a clear, undeniable display of dominance. He used the grip to pull her forward, bending her slightly at the waist as he brought his face down to hers.
He kissed her with the same brutal force, a punishing, possessive claim. His other hand rose, then came down in a sharp, stinging SMACK on her pale rear.
"Ah!" A small, sharp moan escaped her lips. A bright red handprint bloomed on the creamy white skin of her ass. Her body tensed, her small hands flying up to clutch at the arm that held her throat, a desperate, futile gesture of resistance. Her silver eyes, usually so flat and emotionless, were wide with a storm of shock and arousal.
"Y-you..." she stammered, her face flushing a bright, humiliating red as he pulled away from the kiss, a cruel, triumphant smirk on his face.
"That's right," he sneered, giving her ass another hard spank. SMACK! "You're going to learn to like it, you little devil cat."
He shoved her away, sending her stumbling back a few steps. He turned his full, manic attention back to Xenovia. She had braced herself, her athletic body tense, waiting for the assault.
"On your hands and knees, holy bitch," he commanded, pointing a finger at the dusty ground.
Xenovia's jaw tightened, a flicker of her old defiant fire in her eyes. But it was fleeting. She took a deep, shuddering breath, then slowly, deliberately, she lowered herself to the ground. She moved with a grim, mechanical precision, her athletic body flowing into the commanded position. She was on her hands and knees, her firm, rounded ass presented to him like an offering, her large breasts hanging down, swaying slightly with her movements.
Issei's strokes became more frantic, a punishing rhythm on his own shaft. He watched her, this proud warrior, this woman of unshakable faith, reduced to a dog-like posture for this monster. The shame was a hot, suffocating fog, and he breathed it in, letting it fuel the fire in his loins.
Freed didn't wait. He positioned himself behind her, a predator closing in for the kill. He grabbed her hips, his grip like iron, and with a single, brutal thrust, he buried himself inside her.
A loud, wet slap echoed through the courtyard as his hips met her ass. Xenovia let out a choked, strangled cry, a sound of pure shock and pain. Her whole body went rigid, her arms trembling as they struggled to support her weight.
"Ah! F-Father Sellzen! It... it hurts!" she gasped, her head falling forward, her blue hair spilling over her face.
"Hurts? That's the fucking point, you shitty holy bitch!" he snarled, his hips pulling back, then slamming forward again. He set a punishing, brutal rhythm, a wet, obscene percussion that was the only music in the ruined courtyard. He was like an animal, a creature of pure, unthinking lust, using her body for his own selfish pleasure.
But then, something strange began to happen. With each brutal thrust, the cries of pain that tore from Xenovia's lips began to change. They softened, losing their sharp, agonized edge. A new sound began to mix with them, a low, breathy moan of reluctant pleasure.
"Y-yes... harder... more..." she panted, her body betraying her. Her hips, which had been tense with resistance, began to push back, meeting his brutal thrusts with a desperate, needy rhythm of their own. She was a warrior, but she was also a woman, and her body was responding to the raw, primal possession. Her faith was crumbling, replaced by a dark, intoxicating worship of the cock that was claiming her so completely.
Issei watched, his strokes becoming a frantic, punishing blur on his own cock. The jealousy was a physical pain, a hot, acidic knot in his stomach, but the arousal was a roaring fire, a maelstrom of dark, twisted pleasure that consumed him whole. He was a cuckold, a pathetic, voyeuristic animal, and the agony of it was the most pleasurable thing he had ever felt. The power surging through the gauntlet intensified, a dark, intoxicating heat that made the gem pulse with a crimson light.
Freed, sensing her surrender, let out a triumphant cackle. He raised a hand, then brought it down hard on her right buttock with a loud, stinging SMACK!
"AH!" Xenovia yelped, her body jolting forward. A bright red handprint bloomed on the pale skin, a stark, beautiful brand of ownership.
"You like that, don't you, you little slut?" he grunted, his rhythm never faltering. "You like getting spanked like a naughty little girl!"
"I... I... yes!" she cried out, the confession a choked, shameful whisper. "I like it! Please... more!"
As he continued to pound into her, his other hand shot out, wrapping around Koneko's slender neck again. He dragged her back towards them, her small body stumbling. She let out a small, frightened gasp as he pulled her face close to his.
"You, too, kitty-cat," he snarled, his breath hot against her lips. "You're going to watch. You're going to watch me fuck your friend, and you're going to learn your place."
He crushed his lips against hers, a brutal, possessive kiss that stole her breath. His tongue forced its way into her mouth, a raw, dominant act. This time, however, her response was different. The stiff, rigid resistance was gone. She melted against him, her small hands coming up to clutch at his arm, not to push him away, but to hold on. A soft, muffled moan escaped her lips, a sound of pure, unwilling surrender. Her silver eyes, usually so flat and emotionless, were half-lidded, hazy with a dark, reluctant pleasure.
Issei's cock gave a violent, painful lurch. The sight of it, of stoic, silent Koneko submitting so completely, her body arching into his touch, her lips meeting his with a desperate need, was a fresh wave of agony, a dark, intoxicating poison. He stroked faster, a desperate, punishing rhythm that matched the frantic, jealous beat of his heart.
Meanwhile, across the ruined courtyard, a different kind of depravity was unfolding.
Valper, a cruel, satisfied smirk on his face, looked down at the two holy maidens who trembled before him.
"On your knees," he commanded, his voice a cold, clinical bark that was laced with a thick, dark lust.
Asia and Irina obeyed without hesitation, their movements a strange mix of fear and a grim, desperate resolve. They sank to the dusty ground, their naked bodies bathed in the pale moonlight, two perfect sacrifices at the altar of a madman.
"You," he said, pointing a long, bony finger at Asia. "You will serve me with your mouth. But not my cock. You're not worthy of that yet. You will take my balls into your mouth. You will worship them. Do you understand?"
Asia's face flushed a deep, humiliating red, but she nodded, her small hands trembling as she leaned forward. Valper's long, thin cock stood at attention, a pale, cruel shaft with a sharply curved head. Beneath it hung a pair of large, heavy balls, covered in a sparse dusting of gray hair.
Asia took a deep, shuddering breath, then opened her mouth. Her full, soft lips wrapped around one of the heavy orbs, a gentle, tentative touch. She began to suckle, her tongue, warm and wet, bathing the sensitive skin with a reverent, almost holy attention.
Valper let out a low, satisfied hum, a sound of pure, academic appreciation. "Good. Very good. Your technique is... adequate."
He turned his attention to Irina. "And you. You will take my cock in your hand. You will stroke it. And then, you will use it to slap her. Use my cock to punish this other holy maiden. Do it."
Irina's face went white. Her eyes, wide with horror, darted from Valper's cold, expectant gaze to Asia's face, which was already buried in his crotch. The idea was obscene, a blasphemy of the highest order.
"Y-Yes..." she stammered, the word a fragile, choked whisper. "For... for our cause."
Her small, trembling hand reached out, her fingers closing around the long, thin shaft. It was hot to the touch, the skin smooth and taut over the hard core beneath. She began to stroke, her movements clumsy, awkward, a stark contrast to the deliberate rhythm of her own desperate, hidden desires.
"Faster," Valper commanded. "And harder."
Irina's strokes quickened, her grip tightening. A bead of clear, viscous fluid welled up at the tip, a single pearl of lust that caught the pale moonlight. With a blush of pure shame, she did as she was told. She lifted the long shaft, then brought it down in a sharp, stinging SLAP! against Asia's cheek.
Asia flinched, a muffled whimper escaping her lips around the ball in her mouth. A faint red mark bloomed on her pale skin.
"Again," Valper ordered, a cruel, satisfied smile playing on his lips.
SLAP!
Another whimper. Another red mark.
SLAP!
Issei watched, his own strokes becoming a frantic, punishing blur on his cock. The sight of it, of sweet, innocent Asia, her face being slapped with another man's cock while she worshipped his balls, was a fresh wave of agony, a dark, intoxicating poison that made the power surge through him. He felt stronger than he had ever felt before, the jealousy a living, breathing entity that coiled in his gut and fed him strength.
But he wasn't the only one succumbing to the depraved spectacle.
Beside him, Kiba stood, a pale statue in the moonlight. His face, usually a mask of cool, confident charm, was a canvas of contorted emotions. There was the pain of his lost friends, the rage at their killer, the shame of his powerlessness. But under it all, a new, terrifying emotion was building. His fists, clenched at his sides, were trembling. A strange, pained grunt escaped his lips. He looked at Freed, at the way the madman's hands were on Xenovia and Koneko, at the way they were moaning and submitting to his brutal touch. Then, without warning, Kiba's hands went to the waistband of his pants.
With a single, desperate motion, he shoved them down. His cock, hard and angry, sprang free. He wrapped a trembling hand around it, his grip white-knuckled, and started to stroke. His movements were frantic, desperate, a punishment rather than a pleasure. His eyes, wide and wild, were locked on the scene, a frantic, aroused look in their depths. He was stroking to the image of his friends' defilement, to the sight of their enemy's pleasure. A choked, guttural moan escaped his lips, a sound of pure, agonized release as a fresh wave of humiliation washed over him.
"YES! That's it, you little slut! Take my cock!" Freed roared, his hips a blur of motion as he pounded into Xenovia's willing body. He spanked her again, a sharp, stinging SMACK! that left another red brand on her perfect ass.
"MORE! Please, Father Sellzen, more!" Xenovia cried out, her body arching, her head thrown back in a paroxysm of pleasure. She was no longer a warrior of the church. She was a vessel for pleasure, a slut for the cock that was claiming her so completely.
Freed looked down at her, a smug, triumphant smirk on his face. Then, he looked over at Koneko, her small hands clutching at her own thighs, her eyes hazy with a reluctant, submissive lust.
"You, too, kitty-cat," he snarled, reaching down and grabbing her by the hair. "Your turn."
He yanked her forward, shoving her face down next to Xenovia's ass. "Lick her," he commanded, his voice a rough, brutal bark. "Lick her asshole while I fuck her. Do it."
Koneko's eyes went wide, a flicker of her old disgust in their depths. But it was fleeting. A deep, rosy blush spread across her cheeks, and with a small, hesitant nod, she leaned in. Her small, pink tongue darted out, a tentative, shy lick at the tight, puckered hole.
Xenovia let out a shocked, high-pitched gasp, a sound of pure, unadulterated pleasure. "A-ah! Koneko! Yes! Right there! Lick me there!"
Issei's strokes became a desperate, punishing blur, the friction a raw, agonizing fire. He was stroking to the image of the proud Xenovia getting her ass licked by the stoic, silent Rook while their enemy fucked her. The power surging through the gauntlet was almost overwhelming, a dark, intoxicating heat that made him feel like he could take on the world.
Across the way, Valper watched the scene with a critical, appreciative eye. He let out a low, triumphant chuckle.
"Incredible," he breathed, his own strokes quickening, guided by Irina's reluctant, trembling hand. "The psychological breakdown is proceeding as predicted. The introduction of a third party into the sexual act, especially a submissive party, amplifies the feelings of humiliation and pleasure in the primary subject. This is a wealth of data."
He looked down at Irina, a cruel, satisfied smirk on his face. His free hand, which had been resting on her head, slid down, tracing the curve of her spine before coming to rest on her own small, perfect ass. He squeezed, a proprietary, possessive gesture that made her gasp around the cock in her mouth.
"Mmm, your body is quite responsive, despite your protests," he murmured, his fingers digging into the soft flesh. He leaned in, his lips crashing against hers in a brutal, possessive kiss. His tongue forced its way into her mouth, a raw, dominant act that stole her breath.
Irina moaned, a soft, helpless sound of surrender. Her body, which had been tense with resistance, seemed to melt against him. Her hips, which had been still, began to shift, a small, almost unconscious grinding motion against the hand that gripped her ass. Her protests were dying, replaced by a dark, reluctant need. Her other hand, the one not stroking Valper, slid down, her fingers disappearing between her own thighs. She began to rub, a slow, deliberate rhythm that matched the desperate, hidden beat of her own desires.
Valper broke the kiss, a thin strand of saliva connecting their lips. He looked down at her, a look of pure, academic triumph in his eyes.
"As I suspected," he said, his voice a cold, clinical purr. "Your body craves this degradation. Your faith is a flimsy shield against the primal need for domination."
He shoved her away from him, a sudden, violent motion that sent her stumbling to the ground.
"On your knees, girl," he commanded, pointing a long, bony finger at the dusty ground. "Face me. You will take my cock in your mouth, and you will suck it."
Irina's face was a mask of shame, but she obeyed. She scrambled to her knees, her movements clumsy, her eyes wide with a mixture of fear and a dark, reluctant excitement. She leaned forward, her small hands trembling as she reached for the long, thin shaft. She took a deep, shuddering breath, then opened her mouth. Her full, soft lips, which had been used for prayer, now wrapped around the head of Valper's cock. She began to suck, her movements clumsy, but eager, a desperate attempt to please her new master.
Asia, beside her, continued her own act of worship. She cupped Valper's heavy balls in her small hands, her tongue lapping at the sensitive skin with a devotion that was almost religious. Her other hand slid down between her own thighs, her fingers disappearing into the slick, wet heat of her pussy. She moaned, a soft, muffled sound of pure, helpless pleasure.
Valper watched them, a cruel, satisfied smirk on his face. He had them. Two holy maidens, now little more than willing sluts, were servicing him in the middle of a battlefield. He was a god, and they were his acolytes.
Meanwhile, across the ruined courtyard, Freed was reaching his own crescendo.
He yanked Koneko's head back, a brutal, possessive gesture that made her cry out. He pulled out of Xenovia with a wet, slick sound, leaving the woman's inner walls clamping down on empty air.
With a sudden, violent thrust, Freed shoved Xenovia forward. She collapsed onto the dusty ground, a boneless, shuddering wreck. A long, drawn-out moan escaped her lips, her body convulsing with the aftershocks of a powerful, all-consuming orgasm.
"Get up, you worthless holy bitch," Freed snarled, delivering a sharp kick to her side. "I'm not done with you yet. Get back on all fours. Now."
Xenovia, her mind a hazy, pleasure-fogged mess, slowly, painfully pushed herself up. Her limbs trembled, her muscles aching, but she obeyed. She resumed her humiliating position, her firm, rounded ass presented to him like a sacrifice.
Fred chuckled, a low, arrogant sound. He looked down at her, a look of pure contempt in his eyes. "That's a good girl. Now, stay there. Don't move."
He turned his attention back to Koneko. He grabbed her by the waist, lifting her up with a single, easy motion. She was light as a feather in his strong arms. He positioned her, lifting her so that she was standing, her small feet planted firmly on Xenovia's back.
He laughed, a high-pitched cackle of pure glee. "Look at this! The mighty Sword of the Church is now a little stool for my kitty-cat! How pathetic! How perfect!"
He looked at Xenovia, a cruel, triumphant smirk on his face. "You hear that? You're not even good enough to fuck. You're just a piece of furniture. A stool for me to stand on while I fuck your friend."
Xenovia's face burned with a fresh, humiliating shame, but her body betrayed her. A soft, helpless moan escaped her lips, her hips shifting, a small, almost unconscious grinding motion against the dusty ground. The shame was a fire, and she was burning in it.
Freed positioned himself behind Koneko. The sight was obscene, a tableau of pure, unadulterated domination. The small, pale Rook, standing on the back of the proud, athletic warrior, her massive, bubbly ass presented to him, a perfect, willing sacrifice.
He grabbed her hips, his grip like iron, and with a single, brutal thrust, he buried himself inside her.
"A-ah!" A small, sharp cry escaped her lips, a sound of pure shock and pain. Her whole body went rigid, her small hands flying up to clutch at the arms that held her, a desperate, futile gesture of resistance.
Freed set a punishing, brutal rhythm, a wet, obscene percussion that was the only music in the ruined courtyard. He was like an animal, a creature of pure, unthinking lust, using her body for his own selfish pleasure.
But then, something strange began to happen. With each brutal thrust, the cries of pain that tore from Koneko's lips began to change. They softened, losing their sharp, agonized edge. A new sound began to mix with them, a low, breathy moan of reluctant pleasure.
"Yes... harder... more..." she panted, her body betraying her. Her hips, which had been tense with resistance, began to push back, meeting his brutal thrusts with a desperate, needy rhythm of their own. She was a Rook, but she was also a woman, and her body was responding to the raw, primal possession. Her stoicism was crumbling, replaced by a dark, intoxicating worship of the cock that was claiming her so completely.
Issei's strokes became a desperate, punishing blur, the friction a raw, agonizing fire. He was stroking to the image of the proud Xenovia being used as a stool, and to the sight of the stoic Koneko submitting so completely.
Freed, sensing her surrender, let out a triumphant cackle. He raised a hand, then brought it down hard on her right buttock with a loud, stinging SMACK!
"Ah!" Koneko yelped, her body jolting forward. A bright red handprint bloomed on the pale skin, a stark, beautiful brand of ownership. The force of the spank made her stumble slightly, her small foot slipping on Xenovia's back, eliciting a pained grunt from the woman beneath her.
"You like that, don't you, you little slut?" Freed grunted, his rhythm never faltering, his hips slapping against her ass with a wet, obscene percussion. "You like getting spanked like a naughty little girl!"
"I... I... yes!" she cried out, the confession a choked, shameful whisper that was barely audible over the sounds of their coupling. "I like it! Please... more!"
Her words were a dam breaking, a flood of submissive desire that she could no longer contain. The stoic Rook was gone, replaced by a mewling, needy slut, a creature of pure, unadulterated pleasure.
SMACK! Another hard spank left another red brand on her perfect ass.
"More! Please, Father Sellzen, more!" she moaned, her body arching, her small hands gripping Xenovia's shoulders to steady herself. Her silver eyes, usually so flat and emotionless, were half-lidded, hazy with a dark, reluctant pleasure. "I'm a bad girl! I'm a bad kitty! Punish me!"
Freed's cackle was a high-pitched, triumphant sound. "Don't worry, you little slut! I'll punish you good!"
His movements became more erratic, more desperate. His grunts were low, guttural sounds of pure, animalistic lust. He was close. He could feel the pressure building in his balls, a hot, tight coil that was about to snap.
Meanwhile, across the ruined courtyard, Valper was also reaching his peak.
He watched as the two holy maidens serviced him with a desperate, eager devotion. Asia's tongue was a wet, warm blur of motion, lapping at his heavy balls with a fervor that was almost religious. Irina, her cheeks hollowed, her head bobbing up and down, was sucking his cock with a clumsy, but enthusiastic, rhythm. Her own hand was a frantic, desperate blur between her thighs, her fingers rubbing her clit in a tight, fast circle, the wet, slick sounds of her own arousal a quiet, shameful counterpoint to the wet, sloppy sounds of her sucking.
Valper's breathing grew shallow, a low, guttural groan escaping his lips. He could feel the pressure building, a hot, tight coil in his groin that was about to snap.
"Almost... there..." he grunted, his voice a strained, desperate whisper.
He reached down, his bony fingers wrapping around the hair of both girls. He gripped them like handles, a proprietary, possessive gesture that made them both gasp. He yanked them back, pulling their mouths away from his cock and balls. Their faces, flushed and slick with saliva and arousal, were turned up towards him, their eyes wide with a mixture of fear and a desperate, expectant need.
He aimed his long, thin cock at their faces, the sharply curved head pointing directly at them. With a low, guttural groan, he started to cum. A long, thick rope of white, sticky cum shot from the tip, splattering across Irina's cheek and nose. Another jet followed, painting Asia's lips and chin. He came and came, a hot, messy flood of cum that covered their adorable faces in a sticky, pearly sheen. Their glasses, their hair, their perfect, innocent faces were all coated in his seed, a messy, humiliating brand of ownership.
Asia let out a soft, shocked gasp, her tongue darting out to lick a bead of cum from her lips. Irina, her face a mask of pure, unadulterated shame, simply knelt there, her body trembling, her mind a blank, white canvas of pure bliss.
Issei watched, his strokes becoming a frantic, punishing blur. The sight of it, of the two holy maidens, their faces covered in another man's cum, was a fresh wave of agony, a dark, intoxicating poison that made the power surge through him. He felt stronger than he had ever felt before, the jealousy a living, breathing entity that coiled in his gut and fed him strength. He was at the very edge, the pressure in his own balls a hot, tight coil that was about to snap.
Across the way, Kiba was in a similar state. His strokes were a desperate, punishing rhythm on his own cock, his eyes wide and wild as he watched the depraved spectacle unfold. His face was a mask of contorted emotions, a mix of shame, jealousy, and a dark, unwilling pleasure. He was at the very edge, his own release a desperate, primal need.
Meanwhile, Freed was also reaching his peak. He grunted, a low, guttural sound of pure, animalistic lust. He slammed into Koneko one last, brutal time, burying his cock to the hilt in her tight, willing hole. With a loud, triumphant roar, he started to cum.
"TAKE MY SEED, YOU LITTLE SLUT! TAKE IT ALL!" he bellowed, his body convulsing with the force of his release. He came hard, a hot, thick flood of cum that filled her to the brim, marking her, claiming her as his own. He held her there for a long moment, savoring the feeling of her convulsing around him, her inner walls milking him for every last drop.
"HA! I'm giving you kittens, you little devil cat!" he cackled, a high-pitched, triumphant sound that echoed across the ruined courtyard. "You're going to have my babies! My little devil-kitty babies!"
At the sound of his words, at the sight of her being so utterly claimed, so completely used, Koneko let out a high, keening cry. Her body convulsed, a series of shuddering, wracking spasms that shook her to the core. Her own orgasm crashed over her in a blinding, all-consuming wave of pleasure. Her eyes rolled back in her head, a single, perfect tear of ecstasy tracing a path down her cheek. Her body went limp, a boneless, trembling wreck, her mind completely and utterly shattered by the force of her release. She slumped forward, collapsing in a heap on top of Xenovia's back, a stupid, satisfied smile on her face.
And for Issei, it was the final, crushing blow. He watched as the cum dripped from Asia's and Irina's faces. He watched as Koneko slumped, a boneless, trembling wreck, her body marked by Freed's seed. He watched as Xenovia remained on all fours, a human stool, her body trembling.
The jealousy was a tidal wave, a tsunami of pure, agonizing ecstasy that crashed over him, drowning him in its depths. His hips bucked wildly, and with a choked, strangled moan, he came. A long, sticky rope of cum shot from the tip of his cock, splattering onto the dusty ground in front of him. He came and came, a pathetic, pulsing puddle of his own shame, his body wracked with the aftershocks of the most powerful, most humiliating orgasm of his life.
Beside him, Kiba let out a similar, choked cry. His own hips bucked, and with a desperate, shuddering lurch, he came. A hot, messy flood of cum shot from the tip of his cock, painting the dusty ground with his shame. He slumped to his knees, a boneless, trembling wreck, his body wracked with the aftershocks of his own agonized release.
For a long moment, the only sounds in the ruined courtyard were the ragged gasps for breath, the soft, wet sounds of post-orgasmic tremors, and the low, triumphant chuckles of two victorious men.
Freed, with a final, contemptuous sneer, shoved the now-limp form of Koneko off of Xenovia's back. The small Rook collapsed onto the dusty ground in a heap, a boneless, trembling wreck. He looked down at the woman who was still on her hands and knees, a look of pure, unadulterated contempt on his face.
"You're useless now, holy bitch," he sneered, delivering a final, brutal kick to her side that made her cry out in pain and collapse onto her side. "Your holes are all loose and used up. I'm done with you."
He turned, grabbing the monstrous Excalibur from where he had dropped it. He swaggered over to Valper, a smug, triumphant smirk on his face.
"Time to finish the mission, old man," he said, his voice a high-pitched, arrogant cackle. "Let's kill these shitty devils and get out of here."
Valper adjusted his glasses, a calm, clinical look on his face. He looked down at the two holy maidens, who were still kneeling at his feet, their faces covered in a sticky, pearly sheen of his cum.
"Yes, yes," he said, his voice a dismissive murmur. "Though, maybe we could keep these ones..."
"No way! We gotta kill them-" Freed's eyes went wide as he was cut off by a red guantlet suddenly slamming into his face, and he was sent rocketing backwards, his Excalibur being ripped from his grip.
"You're not killing anyone," Issei huffed, his cock still dripping with his own cum, but his face serious as his body was bursting with power. As Freed crashed into the ground behind him, his body slumped with unconsciousness as he was completely defeated. Valper stared, wide-eyed, at Issei's power boost with fear in his eyes.
As Issei glanced down at his Sacred Gear, he couldn't help but admit that, as humiliating as this was, the results were undeniable.
His pride had been shattered, but Issei Hyoudou was stronger than he ever had been before and was on track to become one of the strongest men in the entire world.
Chapter End
Author's Note: I hope you enjoyed. There are 5 more chapters on Subscribestar.adult/Nappar