Chapter 870 - 869- I will be Waiting...

Chapter 870: Chapter 869- I will be Waiting...

Yuki’s hand, which had been pushing his chest, moved. The slap, which was fast and hard, connected. The sound, which was sharp, echoed in the storeroom. Aldric’s face, which had been angry, went shocked. The cheek, which was red, was a mark.

"So you are having an affair with that guy?" he said. The words, which were a leap, were a conclusion. The logic, which was absent, was replaced by emotion. The jealousy, which had been building, was a flood.

"How can you say that?" Yuki said. The words, which were a defense, were a cry. Her voice, which had been firm, cracked. The tears, which had been held back, fell.

"You are my girlfriend, damn it," Aldric said. The words, which were a claim, were a chain. His hand, which had been on her pussy, moved. To his cock. The shaft, which he grabbed, was still limp. He stroked. The motion, which was desperate, was a failure.

He pushed her. The motion, which was rough, sent her onto a crate. Her back, which hit the wood, was a landing. Her legs, which were spread, were open. Her skirt, which was bunched, was at her waist.

He tried to push his cock inside. The head, which was limp, was at her entrance. The shaft, which was soft, could not penetrate. The cock, which was not responding, was a failure.

He looked down. At the cock, which was not hardening. At the hand, which was stroking. At the failure, which was total.

"What is not hardening?" he said. The words, which were a whisper, were a horror. His eyes, which had been on Yuki, dropped. To his cock. To the limp shaft. To the head, which was soft.

Yuki looked. At the cock, which was not responding. At the hand, which was stroking. At the man, who was failing.

"What?" she said. The word, which was a shock, was a surprise. Her hand, which moved to help, found his cock. Her fingers, which wrapped around the shaft, stroked. The motion, which was practiced, was a technique she had used before.

Nothing happened. The cock, which had been limp, stayed limp. The shaft, which had been soft, stayed soft. The head, which had been flat, stayed flat.

She stroked harder. The motion, which was faster, was a desperation. Her hand, which had been gentle, became firm. The grip, which had been light, became tight. The cock, which should have responded, did not.

"Can you not feel anything?" she said. The question, which was a concern, was a horror.

"I can feel your hands," Aldric said. The words, which were a confession, were a devastation. "But I cannot feel lust. I cannot... I cannot get hard."

The shock, which was on both their faces, was a mirror. The man, who had been virile and demanding, was broken. The woman, who had been his partner, was helpless.

Beside me, on the ceiling, Seraphina was working.

The president, who had arrived through a side passage, was on her knees. Her mouth, which was open, was on my cock. The shaft, which was hard, was between her lips. The head, which was dark, was at her throat.

Her fingers, two of them, were knuckle-deep inside her own pussy. The motion, which was in and out, was a rhythm. The walls, which were wet, gripped. The sound, which was wet and squelching, was a counterpoint to the slurping of her mouth.

Her eyes, which were half-lidded and glazed, were the eyes of a woman who was beyond thought. The expression, which was blank and empty, was the expression of a woman who had been conditioned. The tears, which fell from her cheeks, were not from sadness. They were from the effort. From the throat, which was being fucked. From the pussy, which was being fingered.

My tail, which was wrapped around her breast, was milking. The appendage, which was prehensile and scaled, squeezed. The flesh, which was heavy and full, yielded. The milk, which had been stimulated, leaked. The fluid, which was white and warm, ran down her stomach and over her thighs.

"Mmm... mmmf... glmm... mmm..."

The moans, which were muffled by my cock, were vibrations. The sensation, which was a combination of vibration and suction and the wet heat of her mouth, was a pleasure. I watched. The scene below, which was playing out in the storeroom, was a show. The woman beside me, who was performing, was a tool.

The ability, which I had transferred to Seraphina through the incubus seed, was working. The power, which was the "Wife’s Package," was a passive field. The effect, which was localized, created an impotence zone. Any man within range of my wife — Seraphina, who was carrying my seed — would be unable to achieve an erection.

The field, which was invisible and undetectable, was a weapon. Aldric, who was in the storeroom below, was within range. His cock, which had been functional, was now useless. The effect, which was total, was a castration. Not physical. Magical. The man, who had been virile, was now impotent.

The plan, which was unfolding, was a web. The rumor, which Sofia had spread, had planted the seed of doubt. The scene, which Seraphina had staged, had watered it. The impotence, which I had caused, was the harvest. The relationship, which had been stable, was now cracking. The man, who had been confident, was now broken. The woman, who had been loyal, was now desperate.

The next step, which was already in motion, was the offer. The help, which Yuki would seek, would from me. The solution, which she would find, would be in my bed. The man, who had failed her, would be replaced by the man who would not.

Below, Aldric sat. On the floor. His head, which was in his hands, was a picture of despair. His cock, which was limp and useless, was a mockery. The man, who had been a lover, was now a eunuch.

Yuki, who was kneeling beside him, was crying. Her hands, which were on his shoulders, were a comfort. Her voice, which was soft and soothing, was a balm.

"Wait," she said. "Wait. I will do anything. Everything will be all right. Do not think about it."

Aldric pushed her hand away. The motion, which was rough, was a rejection. "Damn it. Damn it. It will not heal. It is all due to you. You and that professor."

She hugged him. The embrace, which was tight, was a desperation. Her arms, which wrapped around him, were a hold. Her voice, which was a whisper, was a promise.

"I promise I will heal it. I will do anything. I will... I know whom to ask for help."

The words, which were a surrender, were a door. The door, which led to me, was opening. The woman, who had been loyal to her boyfriend, was now seeking another man. Not for pleasure. For help. For a cure. For a solution that I had created the problem for.

I groaned. The sound, which was a release, was a climax. The cum, which had been building, erupted. The load, which was thick and hot, pumped into Seraphina’s mouth. The fluid, which filled her, was swallowed. Her eyes, which had been half-lidded, rolled. The whites, which showed, were the sign of a woman who was being fed.

She drank. The seed, which was the incubus energy, was absorbed. Her body, which had been spent, was nourished. The milk, which had been leaking, flowed harder. The transformation, which was ongoing, continued.

I breathed. The sigh, which was a satisfaction, was a moment. The scene below, which was a tragedy, was a comedy. The woman, who was promising to save her boyfriend, was promising to come to me.

"I will be waiting to help... Yuki," I said.