And then some.

John awoke with a start. His eyes snapped open, and his body jerked as if to try and stop himself from falling... but he was already in the bed. He sat up and looked around, finding no source of snow anywhere near him and then blushed as two other people looked right back at him. He wasn't surprised to see Brenda in the tent with him; she had been there when he had fallen asleep. She was awake now, and her mouth hung open mid-word as she stared at John with wide eyes. Her hair was still mostly disheveled, but her bangs at least looked a little more orderly now that she was coherent and could try to take care of them. She had one hand tucked firmly between her legs as she tried to keep John's seed from spilling out, and even though she seemed rational, her gaze quickly flicked down to his junk again when he was finally awake.

The other **** in the tent was not actually Urga. It was Tyrea. The girl with the luscious red hair hadn't bothered to switch outfits or put anything decent on; she just kept with what she had chosen, or what had been chosen for her. She was seated on a small, misshapen wooden stool with three legs and held one of the empty potion bottles that his mother had ingested by the neck between two fingers. Her gentle touch swirled the remaining drops around inside as she, too, devoured John with her eyes... and then when he cleared his throat, she smiled and nodded.

"I trust you had a good rest, sir?" she asked, and John gave her a meek nod in return. He tried to pull one of the furry hides that made up the bed up to cover himself, but the bed didn't budge. "Good. Then as I was saying... This particular tincture is a vial of watered-down, mana-infused, succubus essence. It's supposed to provide a brief, heated, and wet high. Many of the masters will use it to help either break slaves or introduce them into their new role as some of the pleasure girls." A small smirk curled up in the corner of her mouth as she turned to John and watched as he utterly failed to cover himself again. "Sometimes both."

After a few more seconds of struggling with his own decency, he just dragged his clothing back on. Once he finally felt a little fresher, he scooted down towards the edge of the bed, where a pile of used bondage ropes had been set aside and grabbed one of the bottles for himself. He raised the glass up to his face where he took a whiff of the remaining essence inside and found a sense of patchouli wafting into his lungs. It stayed for a moment... and then the scent seemed to change entirely while he kept it near to his face. A dozen different scents came and went; most were only there for short moments where he could detect invigorating bits of nature inside the bottle like little notes of lilac or roses, and then there were some that smelled oddly like baked goods or fresh rain. He would have left it there and idly noticed how hard it seemed to make him just by smelling the bottle, if not for the fact that Tyrea reached over and plucked it out of his grasp.

"It's largely meant to be used on women. The female system conducts what is in this better than most men do and can create a simplified version of it on its own in some microscopic quantities. This version is just a little more... powerful and corrupted, because it was harvested from a demon, than what the body normally makes, and this one is a little more focused on lust." She smiled and then turned to look over at Brenda again. "There are some... variations made from Incubi essence for men, but like these ones, they aren't meant to be used in excess." A faint rosy blush filled Brenda's cheeks, and her gaze dropped down to the floor.

"Sorry... They were really good," she muttered under a faint breath, and Tyrea gave her an understanding nod.

"Forbidden fruits usually are..." she answered in kind and crossed one of her toned legs over the other, revealing her own glistening arousal for but a brief moment, "... but overdosing on something like this isn't the same as using normal potions, ales, or weeds. It leaves certain... marks... on a person." John winced.

"They were really good," his mother had started to stare off into the empty space again. "When Urga told me what it was, I was a little **** to try one... and a little curious, but we weren't sure how much we were supposed to use, and then after the first one tasted like heaven, we were just-" his mother started rambling. She went to continue trying to explain what had happened and why even now she kept her hand tucked between her legs, but John had to interrupt her.

"What do you mean marks?" he said and put a reassuring hand on his mother's shoulder. She went quiet at his touch... and oddly still.

"Nothing visible, rest assured, but when you use a lot of something like this..." She lifted up the empty bottle of what used to be succubus essence for John to see. "... you put a lot of the original substance in your system. In this case, it doesn't matter too much that the tincture had been watered down because she had so much of it. It only matters that she doesn't have more." Brenda moved a little closer to John; she didn't seem to be paying much attention to Tyrea anymore. Her body was still incredibly warm, and a little sticky, to the touch. "Let me see..." Tyrea turned and specifically addressed Brenda. She grabbed his mother by her jaw with a firm grip and tilted her head up for the redhead to look at. Her hand tugged Brenda's chin to point around from side to side as she looked her over, and John felt a small tug at his heart as he thought about what the potions could have possibly done to her.

"She's not going to turn into a succubus, is she?" he asked, and Tyrea glanced at him. His mother seemed lost, but John wasn't. From what porn he had looked at, he was quite familiar with the idea of a sex demon. The only problem with a being so perfectly made for and focused on sex was that sleeping with one had the tendency to let them suck out your soul.

"No, no... Nothing quite so crass. I assure you. I'm better than that when it comes to making potions." That stunned John. He hadn't known that she had been the one to make it. "Then again... I've never seen how far one can go when overdosing on this stuff. Thankfully, this case seems to be only a mild one." A small smile crossed Tyrea's lips, and John breathed a little easier. "You still feel like yourself?" His mother's hand punctuated that question by reaching over and sliding across the length of John's cock. His member flexed uncontrollably at her touch, bulging up into her grip through his pants before his mother answered her.

"It's a little harder to think..." she said, and with a deft flick of her fingers, she popped open the front of his bottoms again. Her fingers slipped out of sight, into John's clothing, and she let out a soft gasp when she felt, with a mostly coherent mind, how big he was now. She hadn't reacted before when she had been so utterly out of it, but when she completely failed to wrap her fingers around his hardening girth this time, she couldn't seem to do anything other than react.

"That's to be expected," Tyrea assured them and watched, captivated, as the outline of Brenda's hand in his pants stroked along his full, fat length. He let out a gasp and a groan as she squeezed the head of his cock between two gentle fingers and thought about stopping her for a moment, before scolding himself. Before he had received his powers, John might have sold everything he had just to get a similar treatment. "Succubi feed on the combination of souls, mana, and... cum," she paused and watched as Brenda completely forgot about the little voyeur in the room with them. She turned to face John again, her pupils dilating as she dropped to her knees in front of him and yanked his pants down to his knees. John's cock lurched out of his pants and slapped lewdly against one of his mother's cheeks. She moaned breathily into John's crotch at the feeling of his shaft touching her again, and John, in turn, echoed that same moan as he felt her warm breath wash over his heavy, aching balls. Her big, round ass bounced against her feet as she ducked between his legs before long, sticky, milky ropes of cum began to drool out of her cunt.

Brenda didn't bother trying to stop it this time; she just turned her attention to John's needs and let her lips squish against his thigh when he didn't move to stop her.

"She's still..." Tyrea paused again, her heavy breathing forcing her to take a moment as she watched the two of them act. "... still technically human, so she can't suck your soul out... but a part of her may hunger for those three things." John didn't catch the next thing the redhead said, but he was almost certain that it was something about loving Orcish traditions and how perverse they were. "If you can supply her... on occasion with one of those things, then she should be fine. Just don't..." Tyrea bit down on her lower lip, and John watched as Brenda leaned in closer and pressed her mouth to his sack. "... d-don't give her more essence. Just to be safe."

His mother's tongue suddenly wriggled out against one of John's balls, lifting the heavy orb up and onto her silky, bee-stung, pink lips with a single, expert stroke of her tongue. A low, gentle moan radiated out into his crotch as they both realized how wide she would have to open her mouth just to fit one of his balls inside, and he felt her voice vibrate so strongly that it shook his very thoughts. She was achingly patient for someone who was supposed to be hungering for his seed. She didn't suck, squeeze, or nibble on him, but the last one was mostly because she didn't dare to use her teeth. She just kissed him, from one cum-filled orb to the next, and lapped at him with her hot, wet, silken tongue until his taste had filled her mouth. Her gaze tried to stay locked on to John, to keep him in the moment where she stared at him with the intent of what she was doing, but with each drop of seed that dripped out of her slit, it became harder and harder to do that. She lost whatever coherent line of thought that she might have had and became enraptured with what she was doing until continuing the act seemed like her only goal.

He almost got sick of how teasing it was and was about to grab a handful of her hair before her head started to bob slightly in his lap. She didn't touch his cock yet; she wasn't done worshiping him to move on to that. His shaft simply continued to bob and flex lewdly against her face, smearing the occasional drop of pre-cum across her cheek. Instead of trying to finish him off, Brenda finally just allowed one of the swollen orbs to pop into her mouth so she could probably lather it with her attention. Her cheeks hollowed and squeezed around him as she carefully massaged and kneaded just the one part of him with her dragging, needy tongue. Her lips squeezed and kissed into the rest of his sack while her head began to lift and move, pulling lazily on his sack until she had moved far enough away for the single orb to pop back out of her mouth. She adored him and his body until his libido seemed to go into overdrive for the load of cum it was preparing for her, and then she moved onto worshiping the next ball.

John almost let her have her way. Her attentions more than relaxed him; it was almost like she put him in a haze. The sensations enveloped and distracted John's thoughts. He reclined into the comfort of his bed before he knew what he was doing and nearly laid all the way back to simply enjoy her ministrations before he felt her push a muffled whimper into his groin. Her collar clinked softly as John strained to look down at his mother with her lips still pursed around one of his testicles. She didn't bother to lift her head or pull away. She just stared at him expectantly, until he realized again that he was going to have to be the one to make her move onto the main course. She'd worship him until he told her to stop... or until her own desires took over.

A little chuckle slipped past John's lips as he snatched up a handful of her black hair again, and then he watched as his mother moaned when she felt him tug on it. She smiled blissfully as he yanked her head up into position and then groaned and gagged as he pulled her gradually down his engorged dick. She only gagged once, and he assumed that it was because she seemed to be in a haze of her own, but once she tried to adjust to his initial size, she took him with ease. Her mouth pulled wide into a taut ring around the base of John's cock, squeezing, kissing, and clinging to him as he **** his way down into her throat and held her there. He didn't last for very long after all that she had already done. Once he had pushed her head down into his lap and felt her throat spread into a shape meant to cling to him, he was already almost finished. His mother started to swallow, tensing around the perverse outline of cock bulging through the front of her neck, and nearly pushed him over the edge. His cock was already starting to pulse in her silken confines, but he didn't want it to end.

He yanked her head back up as quickly as he could, noticed that his mother's eyes had rolled up out of sight, and then he just gave in again. Feeling her throat coil and stroke at his fat manhood with each giant gulp was too much for John, and before he could stop himself, he shoved her back down to try and make her kiss his crotch again. Naturally, when her face was pressed into his crotch like that again, she did kiss him... happily. He did it again and again, until his spit-polished balls felt like they were beginning to lift and clench. His mother groaned around his shaft, shaking him down to his core with her voice, and it became too much. He threw himself into another orgasm like that, by pushing her head up and down the entire length of his shaft time and time again. He fucked her face... until his cock was exploding in her mouth.

Brenda pulled away before he could fully expend himself. After he had coated her throat in a few layers of his cum and filled her mouth with his seed, she put her hands on his cock to steady him and pulled it back out of her throat with a noisy squelch. Her lips slipped off his member with a wet, sticky pop! Her eyes focused on the one thing her mind could deem important at that time, and she watched as he shot off like a fountain right in front of her face. Her hands stroked him along to help with his finish, but it was an **** action. She was more focused on watching the way he shot thick ropes of cum up into the air and gave him a squeal of delight when any of them landed on her.

Actually seeing his own orgasm for once showed John how much more lively it was than he had initially thought. Most of the time, he emptied himself into someone. This time, while he was covering and crossing Brenda's face with line after line of his spunk, he got to watch as he let it all loose. His mother lost her mind again with his orgasm, trembling and squirting into the murky puddle below her, while his cannon slowly lost its strength. After what felt like a minute, he started to run out, and the last little spurts didn't manage to shoot as high. He managed to cover his mother's face, her arms, and drench her tits in long, intersecting lines of his essence, but when his orgasm was finally tapering off, it dribbled back down on his newly toned abdomen and waist. He let out one last groan, and his hips dropped from where he had unconsciously pushed and arched up into the air while his mother continued to lose her mind. She couldn't stop cumming. Anytime Brenda started to relax or come back down from her orgasm, she swallowed the mess he had left in her mouth, dipped down to lick a line of cum off John's body, and then ruined her ability to think all over again when his taste drove her crazy.

She started to lap at them both like that, like a starved succubus, he thought, until finally John was clean and he had to leave the tent, just to keep from fucking her again. His mother was still cumming and licking his remnants from her breasts when he walked out. Tyrea followed shortly behind him, her eyes still lingering on the half-crazed form of his mother while John stepped out into the sunlight.

He was in the middle of trying to tie his 'pahnts' back up when someone started clapping. Mub grinned at him from where he stood next to the leftover scraps of loot... and he was the only one of the people who had gathered to wait specifically for John that had grinned. Lagash and two other orcs stood a few paces away from Mub, but John quickly learned that the feminine Orc was only there to try and do her best to ridicule all of them. The men stood by expectantly, huffing and puffing through gritted teeth while Lagash taunted them, but they didn't retaliate or try to talk back. She called them foolish, and the newcomers bowed their heads and swallowed nervously, as if they thought that she might be right or she might beat them if they tried to argue with her. Mub didn't care to listen to her at all. He was already used to people calling him a failure, so Lagash's comments didn't seem to change anything for him.

"Can you think with your head now?" Mub chuckled at him as John finally finished tucking himself away. It was a little awkward to try and put clothing on without the use of his powers, but he insisted upon doing it once he had started. He blushed at the Orc's remark and watched as Mub casually gestured for him to walk over and then pointed to the other two Orcs trying to stand out of eyesight beside him. "This is Rugga and Putt. They're here to join your pack."

"Rugga here..." Mub paused as John looked the first man over. As it turned out, Rugga wasn't a particularly noteworthy person, at least as far as Orcs went. He had a split lip, a mess of crooked teeth, and like many of the other members in the tribe, Rugga had a few piercings in random locations on his body. None of his piercings seemed fairly exotic though. The few he had mainly hung from his ears, at least the ones that John could see did. He was completely bald, save for a little patch of black hair growing on the center of his chest, and his skin remained nearly unmarked. He had no tattoos and only one branding placed right over his heart, but the one brand that John noticed was something that almost all Orcs seemed to have. Based on what little John had learned about the tribe, the brand almost seemed like a mark for adulthood, though it wasn't always placed in the same spot. "... is looking for a way to... improve himself. At the rate he's been going, he has to try and change something if he doesn't want to end up living as a cooking ****." Rugga outright scowled at Mub as he told 'the human' his situation, but he never did any more than that. Putt insisted on introducing himself.

"And I'm smart enough to see an opportunity for good loot when it comes." He grunted, and puffed out his chest as soon as he had finished speaking. Putt was nearly the exact opposite of Rugga. Where Rugga's skin was bare and unblemished, Putt's had been marked with aged scars, tattoos, and horrible brandings. While one went without almost any piercings, the other had them all over him, trailing even all the way up his sides and down his back like long silvery ladders. Putt actually had a head of hair with thick, greasy, black dreadlocks hanging down the length of his back in a lazy braid. Parts of his full beard and the stray strands of hair that couldn't fit into the braid had been decorated with mementos and trophies of past battles. Most of what he wore seemed to be made out of bone or silver in some way. If he was in need an actual flap of cloth to cover himself, then it came in the form of a piece of hide and hung from a belt of bone or silver. "I'm expecting a large share of anything that we find."

"You'll get what he gives you," Mub growled, and Putt snarled back at him. The two turned to face each other at having their decisions questioned, and without even a moment’s worth of hesitation, Putt began to reach off to the side for a large, cracked, wooden club that he had apparently brought with him while Mub went ahead and did the same. Rugga and Lagash didn't bother going for their own clubs since they weren't involved in the fight; they just watched with mild interest. When John's two new warriors went to take stances, as if to challenge each other, John had to step in. He actually had to tell them to stop.

"Save it for the dead!" he snapped, and the two Orcs both froze mid step. A part of John really didn't like the idea of Putt telling him what he expected, and knowing how the tribe seemed to be in a constant display for dominance, he decided it would probably be a bad idea to let the newest member of his pack walk all over him. He locked eyes with the accomplished warrior, and with a slight tightening of his jaw, he told him as much. "You will get what I think you've earned, Putt. No more, no less." The Orc started to growl at him. "If you do not like it, you can stay here and earn nothing while the rest of us go claim another village." But he closed his mouth when John said that. His angry glare and cocksure, wide, toothy grin never left him, but he reluctantly stopped trying to argue with John. He just stood there and watched while the Gamer turned his attention to Mub and asked him his next question.

"How many more villages were there around us?" he asked, but Lagash was the one who stepped in to answer, as if it was her privilege to take. Even though she made it clear that she wasn't going to be joining them.

"There are dozens of villages like Bleakfield to raid... but only one more south of the burning pass." Her brow furrowed and narrowed as she stared at John. She wasn't necessarily glaring at him, he realized. It was more like she was trying to read him, to tell if he was truly serious about doing this. "Mub mentioned it earlier."

"What did you call it?" He slowly strained to look away from Lagash, but she didn't make it easy. When John met her gaze even once, she spitefully crossed her arms in front of her naked chest and squeezed her round breasts into a sea of green cleavage, and then John almost lost his train of thought.

"Eldham," Mub muttered under a breath, but his eyes were just as distracted as John's were, and then he pointed off in a direction that John assumed to be North.