Afterwards

“Fascinating," you muse, pulling your spent cock slowly from Irene’s slick, warm body. She shivers as you withdraw, a faint gasp escaping her lips, but she remains sprawled on the sofa, seemingly exhausted and deeply confused.

You move back to stand before Libitina, your body feeling strangely energized rather than depleted.

“So, my purpose is now tied to the sins of others?”

"Not realy. What you call as sin, it's really chaos."

Irene finally pushes herself up, scrambling to pull the ripped remnants of her dress across her chest, her face scarlet with shame and lingering lust. She stares at you, her King, with a mix of horror and a strange, pleading light in her eyes.

“Your Majesty,” Irene whispers, her voice trembling. “I… what have I done? My husband…” She dissolves into quiet, racking sobs.

Libitina walks over and places a hand on Irene’s shoulder, a surprisingly gentle gesture. “You, have accepted my son's plowing and sowing your fertile garden, and you will leave here with his bastard growing inside if you. Don't worry, you are blessed. As your belly swells, you will not feel the normal morning sickness and other symptoms, except for an abnormal rise in libido. As well as your husband, well, he doesn't need to know, right?"

“But the shame…” Irene protests weakly.

"Oh, you're right. That can be a bit of problematic. But that's why my son is here to keep fucking the shame away until only pride remains. Pride that despite being another man's wife, you are going give birth to his bastards."

"Bastar...bastards?" Irene asks.

"You want more, right?"

"But I'm married!"

"And yet just moments ago, you gave yourself to him wantonly."

"That's," Irene falters, "You gave me the powerful aphrodisiac."

"Coffee with honey? Coffee does make you alert, and honey helps with energy, but that lust, that bucking of legs as you fuck him back, that's you. All you." Libitina turns toward you. "And now, my son will fuck you again and again, just to ensure that his seed will take hold, and until you wouldn't feel an ounce of shame, as you beg him to put his bastard in you."