Chapter 838 - 837- The President is too Conscious

Chapter 838: Chapter 837- The President is too Conscious

He finished the bath. Turned off the water. Carried her, still impaled, back to the bed. Laid her down. Continued fucking.

He made her dress. After the first round, he had her put on the clothes. The dress, the panties, the simple shoes. Then he pushed her onto the bed. Hiked up the dress. Pulled the panties aside. Fucked her again.

Pah Pah Pah Pah PAAAH!

"AAANGH...!! ... HAAANGH...!! ... OUNGH...!!"

He came. The cum, thick and hot, pumped into her pussy. She screamed. The heat, spreading through her core, was the incubus seed. The energy, flowing into her, began its work. Her body, malnourished and damaged, started to heal. The bruises faded. The welts shrank. The hollows in her cheeks filled.

He took her to the carriage. She sat on his lap. His cock, still inside her, was hard again. The carriage, moving, added a rhythm. Each bump in the road drove his cock deeper.

She screamed. The sound, muffled by his shoulder, was continuous. Her body, bouncing on his lap, was his toy. His plaything. His newest acquisition.

Pah Pah Pah Pah Pah Pah PAAAH!

"OUNGH...!! ... AH...!! ... HAAANGH...!! ... HIEEENGH...!! ... AAANGH...!!"

He fucked her in different positions. On his lap. Bent over the seat. Against the wall. On the floor. The carriage, rocking with the movement, was a mobile bedroom. The driver, outside, had stopped listening.

The journey, from the inn to the academy, took two hours. In those two hours, he fucked her continuously. The cum, pumped into her at regular intervals, filled her. The energy, the incubus mana, transformed her. Her body, thin and malnourished, filled out. Her skin, dark and dull, became smooth and luminous. Her hair, white and matted, became soft and silky. Her eyes, green and fierce, became bright and clear.

She was, by the time the carriage arrived at the academy, no longer the broken creature from the cage. She was a dark elf. Beautiful. Marked. His.

The carriage stopped. Outside the academy gates. The grounds, sprawling and manicured, stretched before them. The buildings, tall and stone, rose against the sky. The students, in their uniforms, moved between the paths.

The dark elf, on his lap, was gasping. Her body, trembling and full, was impaled. Her pussy, leaking cum, dripped onto his thighs. Her face, flushed and wet, was tear-streaked.

He kissed her face. The kiss, gentle and warm, was a contrast to the hours of brutal fucking. She gasped. The tenderness, unexpected, was more confusing than the violence.

He pulled out. His cock, slick and semi-hard, emerged. He pulled her head down. Her mouth, opening reflexively, found his cock. She sucked. The cleaning, the licking, the swallowing of the cum and the fluids, was automatic. The conditioning, hours old, was already working.

He zipped his pants. Adjusted his coat. The transformation, from the beast to the nobleman, was complete.

"Now follow me," he said.

He exited the carriage. The dark elf, stumbling after him, followed. Her legs, weak and sore, found the ground. Her body, dressed in the academy-style clothes, looked the part. The dress, simple and plain, fit her frame. The colors, matching the academy uniform, were correct.

She looked like a student. A new student. A dark elf student, walking behind a man who was not a student.

The students, passing by, noticed. Their eyes, sweeping over the pair, took in the details. The man, tall and masked, walking with confidence. The dark elf, thin and beautiful, following behind him.

"Who is he?" a student whispered.

"He is not wearing pajamas," another said. The reference, to the academy’s informal dress code for students, was a recognition that he was not one of them.

"Really? How can he be informal?" a third said. "Look at his hair. It is messy. He looks like a student."

"He is too old to be a student," the first said. "And look at the elf. Is she new?"

"A dark elf? In the academy? That is..."

"Unheard of."

Viktor, walking past the whispering students, reached the main building. He stopped. Turned. Looked at the dark elf.

"Go there," he said. He pointed. Toward the women’s section of the grounds. Toward the area where the female students gathered between classes.

The dark elf, her green eyes wide and uncertain, looked at him. Then at the direction he was pointing. Then back at him.

"Go," he repeated.

She went. Her feet, finding the path, carried her toward the group. The students, seeing her approach, parted. The whispers, starting immediately, were a wave.

"A dark elf?"

"Look at her ears."

"Is she a new student?"

"Who brought her?"

"What is she doing here?"

Viktor, standing apart, watched. His eyes, behind the mask, tracked the dark elf’s progress. She walked, stiff and uncertain, into the group of female students. The women, in their uniforms, looked at her with expressions ranging from curiosity to hostility.

He reached into his coat. His hand found the badge. The metal pin, bearing the seal of the Royal Academy and the designation of faculty, was cool against his fingers.

He pinned it to his chest. The badge, visible and official, was a statement.

The students, who had been watching the dark elf, turned. Their eyes, finding Viktor, found the badge. The whispers stopped. The silence, sudden and total, was the silence of shock.

"Wait," someone said. "Is he a professor?"

"He has a faculty badge."

"He is not a student. He is..."

"A professor?"

"He looks too young to be a professor."

"Who is he?"

"Did you see his eyes? Violet?"

"Never seen a professor like that."

The shock, rippling through the crowd, was palpable. The students, who had dismissed him as an older student or a visitor, reassessed. The badge, the official seal, was undeniable. He was faculty. A new professor. Walking into the academy with messy hair and a dark elf and no announcement.

Viktor, his expression unchanged, walked toward the main building. His path, direct and unhurried, took him past the whispering students. His eyes, finding the dark elf in the distance, confirmed her position. She was in the women’s section. Surrounded by students. Being examined.

He entered the building. The doors, heavy and wooden, closed behind him.

The dark elf, standing in the women’s section, was the center of attention. The female students, in their uniforms, circled her. Their eyes, curious and hostile, examined her.

The dress, academy-style and simple, fit her frame. Her body, healed by the incubus seed, was no longer thin and malnourished. Her skin, dark and smooth, was luminous. Her hair, white and silky, fell to her waist. Her ears, long and pointed, were unmistakable. Dark elf.

The students whispered. The words, not always kind, reached her ears.

"A dark elf. Here. In the academy."

"Who let her in?"

"Look at her skin. It is so dark."

"Is she a slave? Look at her neck."

The collar. The slave collar, still around her neck, was visible. The metal, dark and plain, was a mark of ownership. The students, seeing it, reacted.

"She is a slave."

"Someone’s slave."

"Whose?"

"I don’t know. But look at her. She is glowing."

The glow. The incubus energy, still working through her body, gave her skin a faint luminescence. The effect, subtle but visible, made her look otherworldly. Beautiful. Dangerous.

The president of the women’s section appeared.