Ruleing by Insemination

They moved her to a side chamber reserved for extended mediation.

The room was smaller, quieter, still appointed with the same clean marble and polished wood that marked every official space in Fontaine. A low padded platform stood in the center. Clorinde was guided onto it without ceremony. The temporary mediator seal remained fixed above her cunt. The two men followed, already hard again, the formal distance of the main hall discarded the moment the doors closed.

What followed lasted the rest of the evening.

They took her one at a time at first, then with less restraint. The merchant—shop owner—was thorough and relentless. He folded her nearly in half, knees pressed to her shoulders, and drove into her with short, punishing strokes that forced soft, involuntary sounds from her throat.

(https://im.ge/i/QMK77pa)
(artist: Koikatsufans)
When he wanted deeper access he flipped her onto her stomach, yanked her hips up, and fucked her from behind while one hand wrapped around her neck, controlling her breath in measured squeezes that left her light-headed and clenching harder around him.

(https://im.ge/i/QMK7I1J)
(artist: Spoilage)
She came once under that treatment, body shuddering, cunt milking him in helpless waves until he flooded her a second time.

The private citizen was no gentler. He locked her into a full nelson, arms hooked under her knees, folding her open so completely that every thrust bottomed out against her cervix. Clorinde’s head lolled back against his shoulder, mouth open, eyes unfocused.

(https://im.ge/i/QMK7Lwy)
(artist: Spoilage)
He used her like a living sleeve—long, deep strokes that churned the mixed seed already inside her into a wet, audible froth. When he finished he held the position, grinding in circles, making certain every drop stayed buried before finally releasing her to collapse onto the platform.

Hours blurred.

They rotated without pause. Clorinde was turned, bent, lifted, and pinned in every configuration the room allowed. Choked until her vision spotted.

(https://im.ge/i/QMKa8Wz)
(artist: Koikatsufans)
Folded until her spine arched. Held open in the full nelson until her thighs trembled and her cunt gaped around the next cock that replaced the last. Her once-composed expression dissolved into something glassy and overstimulated. Soft, broken moans replaced measured breathing. Cum from both men leaked in continuous streams whenever a cock withdrew, only to be pushed back inside by the next thrust.

By the time the final deposits were made she no longer responded with anything more than weak, reflexive clenches.

They left her face-up on the polished floor of the side chamber, legs spread wide, hips slightly elevated by the residual tension in her body. Her cunt stayed open and ruined, a steady, thick gush of combined seed pouring from her in slow pulses that pooled beneath her on the marble. The temporary mediator seal was smeared and half-obscured by the mess. Her eyes were closed. Soft, unconscious breaths moved her chest.

(https://im.ge/i/QMKa3ya)
(artist: Frozenspiderlily)

A clerk entered, checked the time, and activated the small monitoring crystal that would track conception over the coming days. The Oratrice’s final pronouncement arrived a short while later through the wall speaker, calm and absolute:

“Seed of the shop owner has taken precedence. Warranty claim upheld. Matter closed.”

No one moved Clorinde. She remained where she had been left—Champion Duelist of Fontaine,thoroughly bred, the elegant machinery of justice having used her body as its final instrument and then simply moved on.