HAVE SEX with Tucker and let him do everything he wants with you (roll 2d6+BRAVERY)

⚀⚃ 1, 4 + 2 = 7. Success - Franziska activates her House SEX MOVE (Charm), and picks from a list of side effects. Tucker now owes Franziska a favor. The following side effect is chosen:

Your sex has magical or psychic ripple effects. Describe a conspicuous effect over the area (everyone nearby has an orgasm, glass breaks, metal vibrates with your orgasmic moans). Gain +1 XP. Next: GET OUT OF TROUBLE.

A few minutes pass in a white-hot blur of lust. You grind your hips forward and grab his shoulders with both hands, panting lustily and lolling your head back and forth, trying to suppress yourself from outright shrieking in pleasure as his tongue finally finishes its foreplay over your slit and dives in. The hot pink muscle plumps deeper into your pussy than you thought possible, and soon your juices are running down his chin like sweat. Every hot breath of his against your swollen clit makes you feel as if you're being squeezed by a giant invisible hand, tightness seizing your chest and abdomen and forcing you to moan so hard you can barely breathe.

But somehow, the bastard seems to be able to know when you're moments away from cumming all over his tongue, and stops to caress your thighs and pert little ass-cheeks when you're getting close. In frustration, you forcefully pull his short brown hair. "Yes, you bastard, how do you like having YOUR hair pulle-Ff-NNGH! I didn't say you could stop, you little shit!" you hiss at him through clenched teeth. Tucker pauses and looks up at you with an aggressive gaze that could set paper alight. "C'mon now, honey," he groans, the agony of lust filling his voice too. "You've already proved yourself - fuck's sake, you're a strong, proud girl who can whip any fellow who steps to her. So just let me take you in my arms and give it to you right and proper."

You can't bring yourself to say no or respond with a taunting comeback - all you can think about is what he'd look like with his short off and how hard and thick his manhood must be. Tucker sits up, and you can't help glancing down at the bulge making itself known in the crotch of his trousers; he notices and gives a triumphant "Heh." You swallow dryly.

"....Ver- very well." you mutter, taking one of your pigtails in your free hand and toying with it idly. "So long as it helps you remember the favors you owe me and how humiliating it would be to reveal you were utterly demolished in a duel by a girl you prodded into a fight... I'll let you fuck me." Tucker can barely conceal his glee and his face splits into a wide, impish grin. Before he can start describing all the things he wants to do to you you raise a finger and wag it in his face. "Hold - you need to think though, foolish boy. Did you bring a prophylactic potion, or a, um, spermicidal pessary? I think our little rendezvous is scandalous enough without needing to worry about that."

Tucker's face flushes bright red and his eyes go wide - he looks gratifyingly sheepish for a moment. "Oh! Ahem-yes-er-ah," he stammers, "You're right of course, Fran. But no, I didn't bring any - god's honest truth, didn't think I'd get nearly this far. N-not that I mean anything by that! Of course, a skilled powerful witch like you can take what she wants and there's no shame a'tall in it! I just mean... I was rather expecting this to end worse for me than it did." Gulping lustily himself, he reaches forward and puts his hands around your narrow waist, squeezing you lustily and nearly lifting you up off your feet (which excites you more than you admit).

"Really?" you sneer, a little irritated. "You did not think of something that basic? I am not sure I believe you, you treacherous Draconian. I think you might know the necessary spell perfectly well and are just using this is an excuse to back out on account of not being enough of a man to finish what you started!"

Tucker gets a sudden look of worry, as if his golden (haired) opportunity might be slipping away. "N-no! Bloody hell, I think I'd die if I didn't get it. The blue bollocks would outright kill me, they would! I don't suppose, maybe, up your bum- OOOF!" He's interrupted by a swift kick to the solar plexus (you're feeling just charitable enough not to aim lower). His nostrils flare again and he gives a heady snort - you can tell that holding back is taking every ounce of willpower he has, and if he wasn't still a bit scared of you, even that might not be enough. "We could always get marri-" he starts, then cringes as you draw back your foot again. "Wait, no! Just - just kidding!" he awkwardly forces a laugh. "Listen, Fran. Honey.. I spent a little time with Housemistress Porcinilla and she said I had excellent control. I'll withdraw before the moment of issue. Swear it on my house's honor."

You think. Too late to turn back now, you tell yourself - or rather, your pussy tells your mind. "Hm." you say, seeming to consider, with another lick of your lips. "You had better. And do not dare to get it in my hair, either." you say sharply, reaching down to run a finger up and down your slit. Tucker leaps up like a coiled spring, and with a hasty yank, sends his vest and shirt flying, hurling it over onto a nearby table. You put your hands on his shoulders again before trailing them down over his muscular pecs and abs, letting your fingernails scratch him gently, before resting on the hem of his pants and unbuckling his belt. A shiver of anticipation runs up your spine as you unbutton his slacks and slide them down around his ankles, releasing a thick, gently curved rod of flesh that throbs with anticipation at your gentlest touch. He can no longer maintain even the appearance of decorum. "Ahhh damn!" he grunts lustily. "Yes! Goin' to roger that tight cunny till you squirt, you sharp-tongued bitch..!"

Breathing heavily now yourself, you give a little growl as he wraps his arms around you and picks you up by your waist, carrying you over to a clear spot on a nearby table. You let out a girlish little giggle of excitement in spite of yourself. "Bitch, you call me? Then you are a pig, a vulgar pervert who would walk off a cliff if his cock led him over the edge!" You aren't sure, in the heat of the moment, if you meant it as an insult or a complement. Stripped and ready, Tucker is so overeager that he doesn't even bother to pull your vest or blouse off. Secretly, you're a little glad - this way he'll have less opportunity to make any teasing comments about your breasts. With your blouse rumpled up around your waist, he lays you back on the cold wood of the desk, your stocking-clad knees and lower legs dangling over the edge. Taking one of your legs in each of his powerful hands, he pulls you a couple of inches closer, so that your crotch is right at the edge of the table, the perfect distance for him to stand and deliver_.- - - - - -

Tucker could almost hear a choir of angels singing a triumphant hymn in his ears as he rubbed his cockhead against the smooth, milky inner thighs of the petite German girl he'd somehow managed to maneuver into a messy, illegal duel followed by a messy, scandalous screw. Although the Housemistress had given him a teasing blowjob as a part of his welcoming to Draconis, he hadn't dared to dream of getting to go all the way with young lady so soon. He was about to be going into the lion's den, alright - and out, and in again. He hadn't believed when they said that the seemingly uptight Leontes girls were almost as easy to maneuver into a quick fuck for a fellow from Draconis as the nebbish Leontes boys were for female Draconians to wrap round their fingers. At this rate he'd shag his way through a girl from every house before Christmas. With a roar of triumph, he thrust forward and messily impaled her, getting a gratifying squeal from Franziska and shuddering with pleasure at her tightness surrounding his shaft. He gasped with lust and **** his hips forward mercilessly, plunging his sausage into her almost down to the base. She gripped his arms so tight that her fingernails drew pinpricks of blood. Looking down, he saw that his raging erection spreading her tunnel wide open hadn't drawn any blood in return, and he was a tiny touch disappointed - deflowering the bird who'd humiliated him in a duel would be some real bragging rights. Perhaps, Tucker thought as he slowly backed out and then thrust back in, he could get a little rough with her anyways. There was no better way for dealing with a tart who'd wounded your pride than giving her a nice sharp spanking while you stretched out her twat.

...

_"Ahhh... AHHH! GOTT VER... SCHEIBE!" All thoughts of maintaining your dignity and superiority fade as he drives himself into you relentlessly. Your eyes are rolling back in your head and your tongue is hanging out as you squeal and squeeze around his every thrust. Trying to savor the sensation of every inch of his slightly curved, hot, throbbing shaft as the broad helmet of his warrior comes crashing into your depths again and again, you can't help but go limp under him. The wet sounds of him shagging you echo back to you in the tiny room. Unbidden, you put your legs up around his waist and caress his biceps with your hands. "Yes... yes... OHH fuck! You brute..! You.. ravish me like a troll! You have a big fat troll prick!!" you shriek at the top of your lungs. A voice in your head tells you that you should be a bit more circumspect about shouting such things so loudly. But then, as your pussy starts to accept the shape of his cock, he leans forward over you and begins driving himself in even deeper and harder. You toss your head back and forth on the table, your voice reduced to inarticulate squeaks.

"That's good - oh yes bitch," he grunts throatily above you, staring down at you intensely. "You won the duel with wands, but this rematch is bloody well uneven in my favor! This time I've got the big thick wand and all you have is a tight little slot to take it in!" Annoyed (yet also turned on) that he can still be so arrogant you swing one of your legs up and shove your stocking-clad foot right in his face. That just encourages Tucker, however, and he nibbles on your toes through the thin fabric before taking hold of your leg and forcefully rolling you over onto your stomach, leaving you bent over the table with your ass up in the air. His hand gives your bottom a very hard swat, producing a sharp rush of pain and leaving a bright red welt that'll likely produce a bruise. You give a sharp, surprised cry, followed by an annoyed growl - but he thrusts into you from behind before you can say anything.

His hands gripping your waist firmly to stop you from getting pushed forward off the table by his thrusts, Tucker starts driving himself into your cunt so deep that you can feel his hairy ball-sack slapping against your pubic mound with every thrust. Showing more finesse than you'd expect, he works one of his hands down under your crotch on the table and starts rubbing his finger over your clit as he drives himself into your depths. The first time he goes that deep, you hear an embarrassing *FRRRT* noise of air being squeezed out of your tight pussy. Your ears and face are burning so hot with lust (and a bit of shame) that you feel like you might ignite the table.

Tucker's breaths become ragged and gasping, and he shuts his eyes so that the erotic sight of you squirming around his thrusting manhood doesn't push him over the edge early. You can tell his orgasm is close, but he knows better than to let himself go before you do. Little does he know you already came while he was licking you - but with his finger and cock overwhelming your senses, you feel the white hot pleasure building up in your loins again. Squeezing your eyes shut, you cum around his thrusting cock wetly while letting out such a high-pitched shriek that you imagine you hear glass shattering. The wetness and tightening of your orgasm is Tucker's sign and he pulls out of your snatch with a dribble of juices, spraying thick jets of his seed all over your stomach. Unfortunately, some of it gets on your blouse and stockings - but with your post-orgasmic glow, you couldn't care less about such minor consequences.

...consequences... you suddenly realize, eyes opening once again, that Tucker is wincing slightly, his manly body slicked with sweat. "Oh..." you murmur, averting your gaze. "Did I scratch you a little? I.. apologize." Tucker looks down at you, letting out a ragged gasp of his own, and suddenly the man looks worried. "...What? I... I can't hear you." With a sinking sensation you realize that last shriek of yours was every bit as powerful as you imagined.. a tiny trickle of blood is running down from one of Tucker's ears... and looking around you, you can see tables and shelved absolutely covered in great big shards of broken glass, the useless ruins of the expensive potion-brewing equipment that had been stored here.

You give him an awkward, worried look, and as his own coital bliss fades, Tucker shakes his head and gives you an annoyed look. "Well, nicely done, Leontes." he snorts at you sarcastically as you hop off of the table and look for a cloth to wipe away the sticky white evidence he left splattered over your lower body. You sneer back at him playfully, still feeling superior. "You got a lengthy fuck without having earned it and you're complaining about a tiny mess like this?"

He sighs and steps away from you, looking for his discarded pants. "I can barely hear you Fran, my bloody ears are still ringing. Serves me right for letting a vicious little tart like you drag me into this." you frown, but he continues. "But what are we going to do about this shite? Don't try and pass this off on me - I promised to do your homework, not to get my arse expelled on your account. " He reaches his robes and pulls out a handkerchief, tossing it at you for you to wipe yourself with.

You wrinkle your nose. Chivalry really is dead, it looks like - at least where Draconis is concerned. He has a point though: this looks like detention, or worse, for the both of you. Worse than that, though, would be having to admit to your housemates that your response to this meathead coming into your house's dorms and insulting you was to let him lead you off to a secluded storeroom and shag you like mad. Not exactly a decorous way to handle such an insult. You go over and retrieve your concealed saber, shrinking it back to its former size (it's easily replaced but incriminating if left here) before grabbing up your skirt and hurriedly pulling it up over your legs. Unfortunately, with no panties, anyone you walk past will notice that you smell like sex. Even at a time like this, you can't help but notice how darkly humorous it is that you dominated this arrogant braggart with your sword, and then had him immediately do the same to you on a different battlefield...

"Read my lips," you say, meaning it quite literally and speaking slowly and deliberately so he can follow. "We need to..."

Franziska now needs to GET OUT OF TROUBLE. (2d6+1 AMBITION) Options:If you fail the roll (2-6), you can either..

• Grab your clothes and run, locking Tucker in the storeroom and leaving him to take the blame (lose the FAVOR he owes).
• Confess what you did to an unsympathetic professor and GET OUT OF DETENTION.

If you pass (7-9), you can either..

• Confess to a sympathetic professor and minimize your wrongdoing, getting a lecture and accepting mentorship, gaining a FRIEND and a CONSEQUENCE.
• Confess your wrongdoing but be convincingly remorseful, accepting remedial duties in place of a worse punishment (+1 XP, gain a CONSEQUENCE).

If you pass with a 10+, you can either..

• Confess what you did to a dirty-minded professor with the promise of sexual favors or, at least, future opportunities to peep on you while you get into this kind of sexy trouble. This is not enforceable so does not constitute a CONSEQUENCE.
• Sneak into the bestiary and CAST A SPELL to lure/charm a magical beast into the storeroom, possibly gaining XP (for spellcasting) and ensuring no-one knows that you or Tucker were behind the destruction.