Chapter Thirty Seven

Asteria giggled happily, finally collapsing like a felled tree into the cushions when Stanley withdrew from her clingy snatch. Blessedly full and utterly sated, she watched Belphoebe leap at him, twisting in midair so he landed on his back with bewitching Drow astride his still-rigid cock.

“Time to seal our pact, Husband!” She cackled, pinning the mortal with startling strength. “Tonight, the world will remember when–”

“WHAT THE FUCK HAVE YOU FLAMING SHITBAGS DONE TO MY FUCKING PRODUCTION?!”

The Director marched onto the stage in black over-the-knee boots, an outrageous strap-on dildo, and little else. She appeared like an avatar of wrath holding a chain leash, chocolate tresses and naked tits flouncing furiously as she dragged a thick-figured goth fairy by the collar.

The fairy, at least, wore a shoestring thong and shiny latex corset that did nothing to obscure her phenomenal curves nor the slickness coating her thighs. She looked mortified yet also aroused. A blush rogued her ivory cheeks.

“I’m saving it, thou has-been old crone!” Belphoebe crowed gleefully, lifting to position Stanley’s crown between her sparling purple folds. “Thy dared to instruct me? ME?! Watch and learn for once in your measly existence.”

“Get off my fucking stage before I chop out your forked tongue and eat it for fucking dinner, snake!”

“Phakos, now!”

“Yessss, Misssstresss.”

“On with the show! On with the Show! On with the Show!”

Asteria glanced blearily amidst the shouting. Spotlights buzzed to life, a sweeping orchestral score blared and the curtain rose. Belphoebe sank down Stanley’s turgid manmeat with a victorious cry right before the Director reached them.

The ravishing Drow was far more petite than the Amazon but took their Lord’s gut-battering tool with supreme alacrity. Her immaculately slender, graceful body undulated in an erotic dance, arms weaving above her head and narrow hips swiveling sinuously.

The way she moved with the smooth elegance of a serpent was hypnotic. With jewelry catching the bright lights and silver hair flashing, Belphoebe cast a glamour over the baying audience, who stilled, enthralled by her motions.

“Bear witness, ye mortals, on this auspicious day.” Her voice rang clear as a bell above the music. “Fortunate art thou to behold the consummation of this fated union upon the eve of Celestial Conjunction. The Fae and mankind, rejoined once more after millennia of parted.”

The Director slowed to a halt, scowling but no longer pitching a fit. The crowd remained silent though several members appeared confused. A tuxedoed hobgoblin in the front row raised a quizzical eyebrow while his companion, a stately woman in an emerald ball gown, clung to his arm.

Asteria couldn’t look away as Belphoebe rolled and swayed beguilingly utop Stanley. The Drow’s limber form shifted and gleamed as she ground her svelte pelvis into him. The Amazon’s tired hand found her leaking folds, stirring fingers through the squishy overflow with a needy whimper.

“Rejoice, ye fortunate few, for this dauntless hero hath ended the strife 'twixt our peoples and won mine favour in the doing thereof.” Belphoebe’s spine arched, tossing her platinum mane when he grabbed her slender thighs, bucking up into her. “N-now do I bestow upon him the greatest of boons for his valiant deeds.”

Hushed whispers and scandalized noises came filtered from the onlookers. However, the Fae in attendance appeared intrigued. A pair of brownies in low-cut dresses were openly fondling themselves. The Director seethed, eyes boring like deathrays into the exhibitionist couple.

“Jesus, Bel. Your pussy is fucking magic. I’m not going to last long.” Stanley warned, pistoning into the petite elf.

"Verily, thou art o'ercome by mine b-beauty and… heightened sensual grace, my Husband.” She crooned, riding him like an ocean wave. Pert titties bouncing in mesmerizing fashion. “I do expect thee to fulfill thy… marital d-duty by bestowing upon me an heir."

Asteria was impressed by the Drow’s composure. She was clearly on the verge of cumming, not that anyone would know if not for the occasional hitch in her speech. There were tiny tells, though. Nearly imperceptible shudders, dilated pupils and repeated licking of her violet lips.

The Amazon was close to another climax herself, fingers smearing vital seed around her thrumming pearl.

Her sister-wife looked like a dark goddess of fertility fucking their man.

“Are they actually having sex?” An offended lady called from the stands. “Somebody should put a stop to this filthy display!”

Her outcry was met with shouts of agreement and dissenting boos.

“What gave it away, Karen? The MILF wearing a dildo?”

“Disgusting!”

“Let ‘em finish. On with the show!

“Call campus security!”

It didn’t matter. Asteria watched in pride, cresting a second mind-bending peak, when her betrothed drove a final thrust into the gorgeous Drow and roared with release. They both quailed in orgasmic elation as Stanley dumped a baby-making load deep inside Belphoebe.

They melted together, kissing fervently. Smiling, the Amazon gathered them in her brawny arms, curling her body protectively around them while the audience rebelled. Some clapped and cheered–mainly the Fae and younger males. Others protested. Scuffles broke out as the critics clashed.

“Most of you wouldn’t recognize art if it fucked you up the ass!” The Director screamed above the hubbub, bending the gothic bombshell over the base of the bed. The voluptuous fairy squealed when the strap-on rubbed her glistening entrance. “True art evokes emotion, you saggy cunts. My students' performance didn’t make you feel anything? How about this!”

Pandemonium ensued. Asteria clutched her new family safe in her massive bosom until the chaos calmed.

A shieldmaiden’s first duty was to defend those she loved.

“...so we nailed the little shit and threatened him with criminal prosecution.” Captain James Sterling reported. “He crumbled like feta cheese.”

He stood in Dean Chaumer’s office, a far too regular occurrence for his comfort, while the pudgy academic read the written account. One of his boys had used an AI chatbot to rewrite the document in more official lingo.

“It says here,” The Dean tapped the bottom of a page. “He worked on consignment for a lower-level distributor. Not the supplier or someone we have any legal clout to lean on. It also states that when questioned about his ulterior motives, the culprit replied, ‘Don’t care, was totally worth it.’”

Chaumer’s flat drawl conveyed how unimpressed he was by this critical break in the investigation. The head of campus security nervously scratched the back of his neck.

“If we just involved local law enforcement–”

“No police! I cannot stress enough how badly this **** epidemic will damage Madison University’s standing in the ivory leagues.” The fat bastard struggled out of his chair to wag a fat digit at James. “You’re already skating on thin ice, Captain. This… Fin fellow is obviously a criminal mastermind capable of managing a multi-tiered operation. Scour the grounds. Bring them to justice or find yourself another job!”

“Yes, sir. We’ll apprehend this mastermind, sir.”

Elsewhere on campus, Finley sneezed a cloud of golden dust into his bowl of cereal.

End of Part Four

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