Chapter 856 - 855- 100x from Seraphina

Chapter 856: Chapter 855- 100x from Seraphina

I kissed her. The kiss, which was delivered at the peak of climax, was a seal. My mouth, on hers, swallowed her screams. The cum, which was still pumping, filled her. The overflow, leaking from around my shaft, ran down her ass. Onto the sheets. Onto the bed.

I pulled out. The cock, which had been buried, emerged with a wet sound. The cum, white and thick, leaked from her pussy. The fluid, running down her thighs, was a mess. She gasped. The sound, which was the sound of a woman whose body had been emptied, was a sigh.

She fell. On the bed. Her body, which had been held up by my hands and my cock, collapsed. The mattress, which had been shaking, stilled. The room, which had been filled with the sound of flesh and moans, went quiet.

I stood. My cock, which was still hard, was slick. The cum and her arousal, which coated the shaft, glistened in the lantern light. I looked at her. At the body, which was crumpled on the bed. At the face, which was flushed and wet. At the eyes, which were closed.

I climbed on her body. The motion, which was deliberate, brought my knees to either side of her head. My cock, which was hovering above her face, was positioned. The head, dark and slick, was at her lips.

"Open," I said. The word, which was a command, was simple. Direct. The tone of a man who expected obedience.

Her eyes opened. The blue, which had been dazed, focused. On my cock. On the head, which was inches from her mouth. On the shaft, which was wet with our combined fluids.

"Professor," she whispered. The word, which was a protest and a plea, was the word of a woman who was being asked to do something she had not done before.

"Open," I repeated.

She opened. Her mouth, which had been closed, parted. Her lips, which had been swollen from kissing, stretched. Her tongue, which had been resting, extended. The tip, which was pink and wet, touched the head of my cock.

I pushed. My hips, which had been still, moved. The cock, which had been at her lips, entered. The head, which was large, filled her mouth. The shaft, which was thick, stretched her lips. She gagged. The reflex, which was involuntary, made her eyes water.

I sat. The motion, which lowered my weight onto her face, drove my cock deeper. The shaft, which had been at her lips, was now at her throat. The head, which had been in her mouth, was in her esophagus. Her throat, which had been relaxed, convulsed. The muscles, which had never been used this way, gripped.

Her hands, which had been at her sides, flew to my thighs. Her fingers, which were gripping, were white. Her eyes, which had been open, rolled. The whites, showing at the top, were the sign of a woman who was being overwhelmed.

I moved my hand down. From her head. Over her body. To her pussy. The entrance, which had been filled with cum, was wet. The fluid, which was leaking, was warm. My fingers, which had been on her thigh, found the slit. The lips, which were swollen and open, parted. I pushed in. Two fingers. The walls, which had been stretched by my cock, yielded. The cum, which had been inside, coated my fingers.

I started to finger her. The motion, which was in and out, was a rhythm. My hips, which had been still, began to move. The cock, which had been in her throat, slid. In and out. The pace, which matched my fingers, was a synchronization. My mouth fucked her throat. My fingers fucked her pussy. The double stimulation, which was overwhelming, made her body convulse.

My hips, which had been moving, picked up a rhythm. The motion, which was not thrusting but humping, was like riding. The pace, which was steady and relentless, was the pace of a man on a mount. Her body, which was beneath me, was the mount. Her mouth, which was wrapped around my cock, was the saddle. Her throat, which was being fucked, was the trail.

I swung my hips. The motion, which was not forward and back but side to side, was a grind. The cock, which had been straight, rotated. The head, which had been at the back of her throat, pressed against the walls. The sensation, which was new and intense, made her gag. The reflex, which produced saliva, coated my shaft. The drool, which leaked from the corners of her mouth, ran down her cheeks.

Her legs, which had been still, began to flail. The motion, which was involuntary, was the motion of a woman whose body was being ridden like a horse. The legs, which were kicking, were the legs of a mount that was being spurred. The image, which was obscene and apt, made me harder.

I fingered her faster. The four fingers, which had been two, stretched her. The walls, which had been tight, yielded. The entrance, which had been small, gaped. The cum, which had been inside, was pushed deeper by my fingers. The fluid, which was thick, squelched with each thrust.

The sound, which was wet and rhythmic, was a symphony. The slurping of her mouth on my cock. The squelching of my fingers in her pussy. The slapping of my thighs against her face. The moaning, which was muffled by the cock in her throat, was a bass line.

"MMM...!! ... MMMF...!! ... GLMM...!! ... MMM...!!"

I thought about the championship.

The academy, which I had researched through Johana’s intelligence and the headmistress’s files, held an annual competition. The Championship of Valdris. A tournament that pitted students against each other in combat, magic, and strategy. The event, which was a tradition, was also a death trap.

The records, which I had accessed through the level three library card, documented the casualties. Students, who were eliminated in the early rounds, were sent to an isolated zone. A demonic trap. A dimensional pocket that was supposed to be a recovery area but was, in reality, a killing field. The students, who were sent there, were told that they would be retrieved after the competition. Some were. Some were not. The ones who were not were listed as "missing." The ones who were found were listed as "casualties."

The timing, which was the key, was the civil war. The conflict, which had been brewing for years, was approaching its breaking point. My actions, which had been accelerating the tensions, were pushing the timeline forward. The crown prince, who I had humiliated, would react. The noble houses, whose pride I had wounded, would respond. The kingdom, which had been stable, would fracture.

The window, which was the time between now and the championship, was my opportunity. The competition, which would gather the best students in one place, was a target. The hot candidates, which were the women I intended to claim, would be there. The chaos, which would follow, would provide cover.

I needed to secure them before the competition. Before the chaos. Before the civil war swallowed everything.

The system, which existed in my mind as a magical interface, popped. The notification, which appeared in my consciousness, was a reward.

[100x Multiplier Applied — Ability: Weaponry Knowledge (Source: Seraphina Voss)]

[Acquired: Archionic Weaponry Comprehension — Mastery level]