The Slums: Kara's Home
The carriage rattled to a halt at the edge of the slums. The smell of wet earth and refuse was thick in the air. Gaston stayed with the horses, looking bored and picking his teeth.
Kara led me through the maze of shacks to her home. It was rundown—patched with scrap wood and rusted tin—but clean. She fumbled with her keys, her hands shaking.
"Chip?" she called out, throwing the creaky door open.
Silence.
I stood by the threshold, watching her. Kara moved frantically around the small room, checking the kitchen, checking behind the curtain. But a mother looking for her son checks for presence. Kara was checking for absence. She wasn't hoping to find him; she was praying he wasn't there.
She stopped, her chest heaving, realizing the house was truly empty. She turned to me, a flush rising from her neck to her cheeks.
"He... he must be out scavenging with the other boys," she stammered, looking at the floor. "He usually waits here."
"Then we wait," I said.
I stepped inside.
CLICK.
I slid the locking the door. The sound echoed like a gunshot in the small room.
Kara froze. She walked backward, leading to the empty room where she or her son usually slept, then to me. She looked like a rabbit expecting a wolf to pounce, but deep down, hidden beneath that stiff maid's uniform, I could smell it. The gush of fluids. The ache of a woman denied.
I walked toward her. She backed up step by step until the backs of her knees hit the edge of her own mattress.
"Did you really insist on coming here for Chip?" I asked, my voice low, vibrating with predatory amusement. "Or did you bring me here because you knew the Villa was too crowded? Because you knew Pearl or Julienne might hear you scream?"
"I... I wanted to see my son," she lied, but the hard points of her nipples pressing against her bodice betrayed her.
"Liar."
I didn't manifest the tentacles yet. I reached out with my human hand, grabbing her heavy breast through the cloth. I didn't squeeze gently. I claimed it.
At the same time, shadows writhed behind me. Two slender, invisible tentacles shot out, snake-like, finding the zipper on the back of her dress.
ZZZZZIP!
The sound was sharp. The tension in the fabric vanished.
"Ah!" She gasped, her head falling back as the dress loosened.
I held the front of the bodice, keeping it from falling, taunting her.
"You wanted this," I whispered into her ear. "You wanted to be baptized again. You wanted me to stretch you out in this very bed where you and your husbands once slept?."
Kara looked up, her eyes swimming with a haze of lust. The facade of the 'Good Mother' crumbled into dust.
"Yes..." she whimpered, her legs trembling. "Please... Priest-sama. I want it. I need it. The carriage wasn't enough."
"Good girl."
I let go.
SWISH. FLUMP.
The heavy maid dress pooled around her ankles.
She stood there in the candlelight, a vision of maternal sin. Her brassiere and panties were shining white—simple, cotton, but strained to their limit. The underwear was already translucent, soaked through with her arousal. Her frame was thick and lush—heavy breasts, plumpy tummy, wide hips, and thighs that a mature woman has; nobody would have thought such beauty was being hidden.
RIIIIIP!
My tentacles didn't bother with clasps. They tore the bra apart.
She moved to cover herself, a reflex of shame. "No!"
"Don't cover it," I commanded, my voice layered with mana.
She froze, her arms dropping to her sides.
My tentacles swarmed her. They massaged her heavy breasts, tweaking the nipples, while others slid down, groping her thick thighs, spreading the aphrodisiac slime across her skin.
"Turn around."
She obeyed, tranced.
She turned her back to me. My tentacles gripped her hips and bent her forward. Her white panties were soaked, clinging to the crack of her ass.
RIIIIP.
The panties joined the bra on the floor. Her ass was pristine, pale, and shaking.
"Please... Priest-sama... give me the blessing. Make me yours," she begged, looking back over her shoulder.
I didn't wait. I positioned myself behind her, the head of my cock parting her wet, waiting lips.
"Then take it."
SHLICK.
I drove into her in one motion.
"OH GOD!" Kara screamed, her hands gripping the sheets, ripping the fabric as I bottomed out inside her.
My tentacles didn't let her rest. One slithered up her chest, over her shoulder, and positioned itself in front of her face. It didn't need to ask.
Kara's mouth opened, her tongue escaping to lick the tip.
GULP.
She took the tentacle deep, gagging on it, while I pounded her from behind. It wasn't lovemaking; it was a conquest.
PLAP. PLAP. PLAP.
The sound was obscene—wet flesh slapping against wet flesh. She was being filled from both ends, her muffled moans vibrating through the tentacle and into my mind.
Suddenly, I stopped. I pulled out.
POP.
"No..." she whined, the loss of fullness making her frantic. "Please... don't stop..."
"You need to be properly positioned," I said coldly.
My tentacles wrapped around her wrists and ankles.
WHOOSH.
They lifted her effortlessy into the air, like a puppet, then laid her down on her back upon the mattress. I stripped off my robes, revealing my masculine frame, the shadows writhing around me.
I climbed on top of her.
SHLICK.
I drove into her again, missionary style. Her muscular legs instantly wrapped around my waist, locking me in, pulling me deeper than before.
PLAP. PLAP. PLAP.
"Priest-sama!" she wailed, her eyes rolling back in her head. "It's too deep! It's touching my womb!"
"I will keep doing it until your son comes home," I growled, grabbing her hips and increasing the pace. "Let's show him how slutty his mother is."
"Wait... stop..." she gasped, a flicker of panic cutting through the pleasure. "Chip... no please... don't... ahhmm... mmmph!"
"Does that scare you, Kara?" I teased, slamming into her harder.
SMACK. SMACK.
"Or does it make you wetter? Knowing your son could walk in and see his strong mother getting broken by the Priest?"
"No... please... ahhh! Yes!"
She couldn't help it. The taboo mixed with the pleasure was too potent. She clamped down on me, her inner walls pulsating, milking me.
SQUELCH. GRIND.
"I'm... I'm gonna..."
I pulled out again.
"No. Not yet."
I dove down, burying my face in her crotch.
SLURP. LICK.
I ate her out with a ravenous hunger. It was tasty—the sweet juice of arousal mixed with the faint, salty tang of urine from her loss of control. It was a cocktail of debauchery.
She went crazy. Her hands grabbed my head, pushing my face deeper into her slime.
"Ahhh! Priest-sama!"
PING.
A sensation hit my mind. It wasn't sound. It was mana. Two alleys away, a specific signature was moving. The leg I had created. The void-construct I had attached to the boy.
He was coming.
Outside, a dog barked.
I looked up from her crotch, my face glistening. "Do you hear that, Kara?"
She was too far gone. "Please... make me cum...Please"
SHLICK.
I drove back inside her. Hard. Fast. No rhythm, just piston-like fucking.
PLAP-PLAP-PLAP-PLAP.
"This is a big one," she whispered, her eyes losing focus.
"Yeah. A big one."
Rattle.
The sound of keys outside the front door.
Kara froze beneath me, her eyes snapping open. "Chip..." she whispered, terror warring with ecstasy.
I didn't stop. I went faster.
"Wait... hmmm... mmmp!"
"Let's cum together, Kara! Let's show it to your son!"
With those words, the fear and the lust collided. Kara's body convulsed. Her insides wrapped around my penis, becoming tighter, hotter, wetter.
"AHHHHHHH!"
She came hard, a body-shaking orgasm that arched her back off the mattress.
Feeling her walls spasm, I let go. The heat inside me shot out in a wild rage.
SPLURT. SPLURT. SPLURT.
I unloaded inside her, filling her completely, breeding her with mana and seed as the front door creaked open.
"Mom? Are you home?"
Chip's voice echoed from the kitchen.
Kara tried to push me off, panic in her eyes. "Chip!" she gasped, but her body was still spasming, her legs useless jelly. I was still deep inside her, pulsing.
"He will see us..." she choked out. "Not like this..."
Steps approached the bedroom.
Thump. Thump.
Chip shouted "Mom are you there"
I leaned down and kissed her forehead, a dark smile on my lips.
"Too late."
The bedroom door swung open.
Chip stood there, his bag of meat dropping from his hand.
He saw me.