Chapter 119: The gap in the curtain

Thank you [UpUpDowndown] for your gift – A Dragon (WOW)

Thank you [MonsterGirlHarem] for your gift – A chair (^_^)

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A day later, Silver Moon showed itself under the city lights, but Karin did not go in through the crowded side.

She landed on the rim of the hill before anyone could look up. Her demon wings folded behind her, and two small black horns curved back through her golden hair. The black combat suit clung to a grown woman’s body, leaving only a strip of pale skin at the throat, and her red eyes ran along the stone path that led up to the wooden villa. The night wind on the hill was cool. The grass still held the smell of dew, and in that quiet she heard a voice from the back of the house.

"Right place."

The file said Erik had only just left the battlefield. This house had no guards, no barrier worth the name, and the front door was not even locked. Karin gave a short breath through her nose. A man spoken of by Succubi in that tone, living this carelessly, was either a fool or certain no one would dare come in. She chose the second, because it gave her more to hate.

She followed the wooden wall and stopped at the sitting-room window. The curtain was open by a hand’s width. The yellow light inside was enough to see by, and enough to keep her shadow from falling into the room. She had meant to go in on the first breath. The gap in the curtain held her.

Erik sat in the chair at the center of the room, black hair a little disordered from the road, the collar of his shirt open, only half the buttons still holding. From outside, Karin saw the line of his collarbone, the breadth of his chest, and the abdomen that showed each time he breathed. It was not a body kept in a mansion. The shoulders were solid. There was a faint trace of tendon in the arm when he set his elbow on his knee. His skin still carried the heat of a man who had just washed, and the lamp made that place brighter than the rest of him. He was better-looking than the picture in the file, enough that Karin frowned, as if the face itself were a lie prepared in advance.

"We only just got back," he said, low, a little helpless. "You’re not going to rest?"

Meira was not resting.

The Element Lord, a hundred and eighty-five tall, was kneeling on the rug. Her gold hair fell nearly to her waist. Her pointed elven ears were flushed under the lamp, and a pair of golden dog ears sat on her head. A five-colored collar circled her throat. The thin chain lay in both hands like something she had brought herself. The black sheer lingerie hid almost nothing. Her large breasts were pressed by the thin lace until the cleft showed, the nipples already hard, printing a dark point through the cloth. The narrow waist curved down into full hips, and her thighs closed, then parted, because she was offering the chain forward of her own will.

"Your little dog wants Master to hold it." Meira’s green eyes were bright. She did not look like someone who had just come back from a war.

Beside her, Elowen knelt a little lower. Silver hair spilled over her chest. The white cat ears on her head sat crooked because she had bowed her face. The sweet white nightdress had slipped from one shoulder, thin enough that Karin could see the shape beneath, and see both nipples already stiff, brushing the cloth every time Elowen breathed. She was red to the tips of her ears. Both hands still held out the other end of the chain, her voice small enough to nearly dissolve in the light.

"I... want it too."

Erik looked at them. His eyes were no longer as calm as they had been in the carriage. There was a clear layer of hunger in them, moving from throat to breast, from collar to the place where the two of them knelt. He did not seize. He only looked long enough for both of them to understand they were wanted. Elowen saw that look, flinched for a beat, and then the corner of her mouth curved, as if she had been given permission to be glad that she, too, was being looked at that way.

Karin stood outside the window, both hands clenched. Chain. Collar. Two Succubi on their knees. A man sitting to receive them. Everything in her head fitted the guess she had carried from the outpost: he did not need a whip. He taught them to offer the leash themselves. The glass was not locked. One step would be enough. She would pull Meira up, pull Elowen off the rug, and ask Erik how long he meant to keep the two of them at his feet.

Her hand had just touched the frame when Meira bent down, and not to take a blow.

She drew his zipper. His cock rose in the lamplight, thick, long, heavy, the veins clear under the skin. Karin stalled. It was larger than anything she had ever seen on a man, large enough that for one second she forgot whom she was hating. The head had already darkened. The shaft was straight and sure, and even in Meira’s hand there was still a length left over.

Why is it that big?

Meira did not hesitate. She kissed the head first, soft lips closing, tongue circling once, slow, like a greeting, and only then took him in. Her cheeks hollowed. Spit shone on her mouth. Elowen flushed and still crawled closer on her knees, kissing the base, her tongue following a vein upward, stopping when Meira yielded a beat. Two mouths. One chain still in Erik’s hand. The wet sound carried through the gap in the curtain, small and clear, with no need for anyone to perform it.

Karin pressed her thighs together.

Her body shook, and not from the cold on the hill. Her red eyes were wide and did not dare blink. Inside the black suit both nipples had stiffened, brushing the lining every time she breathed, and a warm line had begun to soak between her thighs, slow at first, then faster when Elowen looked up, mouth wet, watching Erik as if asking whether she was allowed to go on.

Perfect.

The thought had barely surfaced before Karin shook her head and shoved it back toward the old guess. No. He lets them taste first. Lowers their guard. Then he hurts them. That is how men do it.

Erik set his hand in Meira’s hair. He did not push. He only held. Meira moaned in her throat, a long mm, and took him deeper until her nose touched the dark at the base. Elowen kissed along the length Meira had not yet reached, her tongue softer, a little clumsier than her mother’s, but she did not retreat. Erik exhaled. His abdomen tightened once. Karin saw that line very clearly under the lamp, and the wet place in her went deeper, as if something in her own body had knelt as well.

"Come here."

Meira let him go. A clear thread broke on her chin. She did not wipe it. She drew Elowen close, and the two of them knelt face to face, breast to breast, black and white, sheer lace and a nightdress. Meira’s breasts were large and heavy, the stiff nipples printed through the lace. Elowen’s were no less full, held by the white dress so that when she breathed the cloth slid over nipples already hard. They lifted their hands together and pressed, and Erik’s cock lay in the cleft between them.

Karin forgot to breathe.

Meira closed her breasts first. Soft flesh swallowed most of the shaft and left only the head showing between the two mounds. Elowen pressed from the other side. The white dress was drawn down on one side, skin to her mother’s skin, and the channel between four breasts narrowed, hot, wet with the spit still on him. Meira looked up and smiled, very small, her voice already hoarse.

"Use them, Master. Your little dog’s breasts, and hers, are both yours."

Elowen bit her lip and did not let go. "Don’t say it so loud..."

Erik set both hands on their shoulders and rolled his hips. The head rose between Meira and Elowen, dark and shining, then sank again. Each time they pressed, Meira made a short sound. Elowen shook. Their nipples brushed each other and brushed him, hard enough that Karin could see it through the cloth. She set her brow against the frame. Her thighs ached from closing. Her wetness had soaked the lining, cold when the hill wind found it, and her nipples hurt inside the suit, and still she did not leave the gap.

Meira bent and licked the head whenever it rose. Elowen learned, tongue meeting her mother’s tongue on that same place, both of them flushed, neither stopping. The mm... ah... tangled, small enough that only someone standing against the window could hear it. Erik’s breath grew heavier. One hand held the chain. The other slipped into Elowen’s silver hair and stroked, as if in praise.

Karin bit her lip. "Hm... so this is the new way of tormenting them."

"Aghh..."

Her own voice startled her. A hand covered her mouth from behind.

Velyss stood there, long pink hair stirred over her shoulder by the night wind, pink eyes on Karin, one finger at her lips. The black combat suit held a grown woman’s curves. Two black horns curved lightly from her head. Her gloves reached the elbow, and under the wrist the crescent mark showed only a corner as she brought out the notebook. Karin stared, because Velyss had already opened it. Small, even writing fell onto a fresh page: torment by an object of abnormal size; subjects do not resist; breasts used as an instrument; further observation required.

Karin pulled the hand away and whispered, "What are you doing?"

"Taking notes," Velyss said, very low, eyes still on the gap. "A new method of torment."

Karin: "..."

She wanted to say it was not torment. She wanted to say the two inside were willing past the point of rescue. The sentence caught in her throat. If she said it, she would have to admit she was watching a scene that did not look like a crime, and that she herself was wet because of it.

Velyss wrote on, face unchanged. Subjects’ response is positive. Highly positive. Nipples erect. Breathing disordered. Karin glanced down. Velyss’s glove was tight on the pen. Her breasts had also tightened in the suit, two hard points showing faintly under the black cloth. Velyss did not look there. Karin pretended not to see, while inside Erik was still in no hurry. He let them hold him, stroked slowly, then faster by a beat when Meira deliberately squeezed. The head touched Elowen’s chin. She opened her mouth, took a short suck, moaned mm in her throat, and gave him back to the cleft. Meira smiled, cheek to her daughter’s cheek, both of them looking up as if offering something that existed only in this house.

Karin’s knees went soft. She still whispered, almost only to herself, "He’s training them. When the lesson ends, it will hurt."

Velyss did not look up. "The subject is smiling."

"A smile can be fear."

"Mm." Velyss added a line. Smiling. Does not resemble fear.

Inside, Elowen moaned when Erik pressed lightly at the back of her neck, letting her mouth take the head while the breasts still held the shaft. Spit ran down into the cleft and made the next stroke slicker, the sound clearer. "Ah... Master..." Meira licked a drop from her daughter’s mouth, looked up, green eyes wet.

"Master," she said, voice hoarse, "your little dog wants it deeper. Not only the breasts."

Elowen shook. She did not object. Erik looked at them for a moment. The light slid over his abdomen, over the hand on the chain, over the place where two pairs of breasts held him until the shaft could no longer be seen. Karin swallowed. Velyss swallowed after her, very softly, and wrote one last line before the page ran out: direct engagement required for further information.

Karin looked at that line and her face tightened. Inside her head it was loud enough. Direct engagement. If you want it, say so. She did not say it. Her thighs stayed closed. Her nipples stayed hard. The gap in the curtain stayed bright.

And Erik had just pulled the chain.