Chapter 674 - 673- Clara is Lucky

Chapter 674: Chapter 673- Clara is Lucky

His eyes returned to Clara. She stood now in her prime — the panty, white cotton, the hairy pussy visible through the fabric. The dark curls of pubic hair — unshaved, natural, the body of a young woman who had never had reason to groom — pressed against the cotton. The outline of her slit was visible — the puffy, virgin lips, the cleft between them.

She covered her breasts with her arms. Her pussy with her hands. The shyness — the last-minute, ’I-am-naked-in-front-of-a-man’ shyness — hit her.

But she kept talking. Praising him.

"He solved the plague," Clara said. Her voice was stronger. The praise gave her courage. "The drought. The—"

Nora’s eyes fluttered. The confusion on her face deepened. She gasped.

"What?" the demoness said. "This bastard did? No. You humans are just evil. He—"

"He is our lord," Clara said. Simple. Definitive.

"But isn’t it a problem of those villagers?" Nora pressed. Her voice was strained — the chains still held her, the spanking still stung, but the conversation was distracting her from both. "What does it have to do with you?"

"Lady Mira saved me," Clara repeated. "Paying the debt which my father took."

Viktor looked at Clara. At the young woman. At the beauty that Mira had identified. At the body that was being offered.

"What is your age?" he asked.

Clara’s arms tightened over her chest. "Three days ago, when it was my birthday, I have turned eighteen."

His cock hardened.

The 100x-enhanced biology responded — the incubus bloodline, the arousal system, the ’a-virgin-is-offering-herself’ trigger that made his body shift from rest to readiness. But the size didn’t return to twelve. Instead, it decreased. The shaft contracted. The length reduced — from twelve to nine. The girth narrowed. The cock adjusted itself — the incubus ability to modify his own anatomy, to size himself for his partner.

Nine inches. Still large. Still intimidating. But not twelve. Not the battering ram that had destroyed Helena’s cervix. A more... accommodating size.

Clara saw. Her eyes — which had been fixed on his face — dropped. To his cock. To the change. Her lips parted.

"Lord," she gasped. "It’s decreasing."

Viktor chuckled.

Nora’s head snapped around. Her crimson eyes — wet, blurred — found his cock. Found the nine inches. Found the reduced size.

The realization hit her like a thunderbolt.

"WHAT?!" she screamed. "You can adjust the size?! YOU — YOU BASTARD! Have you intentionally made me lick that thick thing?!"

The understanding was crushing. In the cave, when she had been forced to her knees, when the twelve-inch cock had been shoved in her face, when she had licked and sucked and been face-fucked — she had believed it was his natural size. Unchangeable. That the thickness, the length, the ’impossible’ dimensions were simply what he was.

But he had done it on purpose. Made it twelve. Made it thick. Made it the kind of cock that would make a heavenly demon’s jaw ache. Made it the kind that would humiliate — not because of its existence, but because of its ’unnecessary’ size.

"You could have made it smaller!" Nora yelled. "You could have — and you made me — I thought—"

Viktor looked at her. The smirk was back.

"Come here," he said to Clara.

She came. Her bare feet padded across the bathroom tile. Her hands — still covering herself — moved to her sides. She stopped in front of him.

He bent her over.

The motion was fluid. His hand found her back — between the shoulder blades. Gentle pressure. She bent forward. Her upper body lowered. Her hands caught the edge of the bathing pool — the same stone rim that Nora was chained to.

Her face was directly over Nora’s ass.

Clara’s eyes widened. The demoness’s thick, pale, spanked-red ass was inches from her face. The strip of dark fabric — the war dress panty — was pulled tight between the cheeks. The pussy — barely covered, the swollen lips visible through the thin material — was directly below her.

"What are you doing?" Clara whispered. Not to Viktor. To the situation. To the ’my-face-is-over-a-demoness’s-pussy’ reality she found herself in.

Viktor didn’t answer. His hand found Nora’s panty — the strip of dark fabric. He pinched the material. Pulled it aside. The demoness’s pussy was exposed — the swollen, pink lips, the slightly-parted entrance, the clit peeking from its hood. The arousal — forced, unwanted — glistened on the flesh.

He looked at Clara. At her face, hovering over Nora’s cunt.

"You can bite this," he said. His finger found Nora’s clit. The small, sensitive nub, still hidden beneath its hood. He held it. Gently. The pad of his finger pressing against the flesh.

Nora’s body jerked.

"NO!" she screamed. "DON’T—!"

"Clara," Viktor said. His voice was calm. Instructive. "You can bite it to muffle your voice."

Clara looked at him. Then at the clit. At the small, pink, glistening nub that his finger was holding. The ’bite-another-woman’s-clit’ instruction was so far outside her experience that her brain stuttered.

But it was ordered by her lord.

She opened her mouth. Slowly. Her lips parted. Her teeth — white, young, slightly imperfect — descended. She leaned forward. Her face pressed against Nora’s pussy — the demoness’s scent hitting her, the musk and the arousal and the incubus-laced pheromones that had seeped into the demon-kin flesh.

Her teeth found the clit.

"No—" Nora whispered. Her whole body tensed. The chains rattled. Her crimson eyes went wide.

Clara bit.

"AAAAAAHHH—!!♡♡♡!!!"

Nora screamed. The sound was enormous. The pain — sharp, direct, the clit sending a ’SOMETHING-IS-BITING-ME’ signal that overloaded her nervous system — combined with something else. Something she didn’t want to acknowledge. The warmth. The wet. Clara’s lips pressing against her pussy. Clara’s breath on her flesh. The sensation of a mouth on her clit — the first mouth that had ever been there.

The demoness moaned. The sound was involuntary. ’Loud.’ The ’my-body-is-responding-to-something-I-don’t-want-it-to’ moan of a heavenly demon being pleasured against her will.

Clara cried too. The young maid — her teeth still on the clit, her mouth pressed against the demoness’s pussy — was crying. The tears fell from her eyes, onto Nora’s flesh. The ’I-am-biting-another-woman’s-clit-because-my-lord-told-me-to’ tears of a virgin whose world had expanded beyond her comprehension in the last hour.

Viktor pulled Clara’s panty aside.

The white cotton — already damp, already clinging to her hairy pussy — shifted. The fabric pulled to the left. Her cunt was exposed. The dark curls of pubic hair — thick, untrimmed, the natural state of a young woman — framed the slit. The lips — puffy, virgin, sealed — were pink. Slightly parted. The arousal — thin, clear — dripped from the entrance.

SLAP.

His hand came down on Clara’s pussy. The open palm, the flat surface, the impact landing directly on the exposed flesh. The lips compressed. The clit — hidden, unhooded — absorbed the shock.

"AAAHH—!!"

Clara screamed into Nora’s pussy. The vibration of her scream traveled through her lips, through her teeth, into Nora’s clit. The demoness flinched. Moaned.

Viktor positioned himself. Behind Clara. His cock — nine inches, reduced, the head slick with pre-cum — pressed against her entrance. The crimson cockhead parted the labia.

The dark curls of hair pushed aside.

The pink flesh — virgin, untouched, never-penetrated — yielded. Barely. The opening was tight. Impossibly tight. The hymen — thin, membranous — was there. He could feel it.

He pushed.

One inch.

Clara’s body twitched. Her teeth tightened on Nora’s clit. The demoness screamed.

"AAAHH—!!"