The princess is in trouble!

After the Russian muscle goddess Ayn, Moira was probably the girl John knew that was most likely to be able to crush a watermelon with her thighs. Yet somehow his skull remained intact as she squeezed his face into her stubbled lips, the bridge of his nose crushed against her clitoris as he worked his tongue into her depths. She gyrated upon his head, her hands holding it up to keep it from sinking into the mattress whenever her shuddering legs might accidentally release her prisoner, and she whimpered more prayers to help her stay in control, to keep her wits about her as she made this common thief apologize. It was strange, and wonderful, to feel a man worship her pussy like this.

But for all of Moira's kinky relief before meeting John, she had never dared something so degenerate, so filthy, as shoving a moist finger into her asshole. John had no such reservations, and her body quaked with nervous terror at feeling her virgin anus being probed by his middle finger.

"W-W-W-W-W-W-What are you d-doing, no, that's my a... that's... that's dirty!" It couldn't be cleaner, in truth; the chastity belt made sure of that. But the act itself was unclean, something that carried less weight with her now that she rode his tongue like she'd marry it. His well-lubed digit sunk in only to that first knuckle, mere centimeters really, and her sphincter squeezed and sent chills up her back as she tried to get used to it.

John, for his part, was halfway to his next orgasm already, and the thought of wasting it on her mattress was almost offensive. Without needing to move, he stripped himself of all his clothes and magical items, save his rings, and Moira looked back once to notice his state...

... and the mammoth size of his cock.

He never did bring it down from his time with Tara, and being confronted with an object of something like fear and awe, for the Warden of the Golden Rose at least, was not helped by it being over a foot of girthy meat. The swollen glans, the wrinkled foreskin and veins, the turgid rigidity of this spire of male iconography... it was everything she fantasized about, and worse than all her nightmares of failing her duty.

"J-John... I... I can't..."

Moira looked about stunned as they jumped, her mind in too great a haze to resist the teleportation.

She blinked rapidly as she looked at the hair-matted crotch before her. Slowly, fearfully, her eyes went from the base of the tower of John's sins, wincing as she took in inch-by-inch of its glory, terrified of having to truly take it in inch-by-inch. At last she saw its apex, and the light caught it like a halo as it cast its shadow onto her face. She was laying down on John... and he under her in the opposite orientation. With all the warning that those precious seconds afforded her, John nibbled ever so gently on her swollen clitoris. A high-pitched squeal from her, and he was satisfied that he had her attention.

"It'll help you relax, princess... if you help me relax, don't you think?"

"You... you would apologize to me by demanding I pleasure you?!"

"No... but I really hope you w-w-wooouhuld-" John stopped trying to speak as she grabbed and crushed his dick in a two-fisted grip, and went back to work, fingering her ass as he lapped her up like a dog, caressing he thigh with his free hand as if to encourage her.

"Such insolence..." She continued her vice-like grip, panting as he started to get her back in the mood. The mood for what? It was a question on her mind, spoken in fear... and she was terrified that the meat in her hands, the penis in her bedroom, would not be satisfied with her warrior grip. She had to make sure it was. There was no better way (save stopping, but the Lady doth witness that Moira certainly couldn't stop now,) to be sure she would be safe.

Men seldom could afford much of any action, let alone another round, just after they've been spent. Moira knew this, or thought she did, and to that end she swallowed hard as she prepared her spirit for the latest foul thing she would do.

John, for want of a view, opened a tunnel behind her ass and below his crotch, and in doing so made a small window through which Moira and he could make eye contact.

His cock flared as he watched her handle it. Her eyes widened in horror at looking at her own sopping, flowering pussy as it appeared to kiss John back. "B-B-By the Lady, why?!"

"I want you to watch me serve you, Warden," John managed in as knightly a voice as he could muster.

"I... I don't want to watch... that's so... this is so... s-so perverted..." But her eyes didn't look away, and he kept his gaze locked with hers as he sucked gently on her lips. Panting, she stroked his meat with greater effort, feeling judged now for the task she didn't ask for, and her heart feeling like it would burst from the exchange of humiliating visages.

That he did it so shamelessly seemed a challenge to the knight.

He serviced her with his tongue and mouth, continued to please her anus in that bizarre way, and now his free hand aided his tongue in probing her sex, in crushing the front of her birth canal to apply more pressure on those internal parts whose latin names she couldn't even fathom right now. It was all working, no matter the reservations she now pretended to have.

"It's... only fair..." she sighed before finally being a lady about it. She adjusting herself and raised her mouth to the level of his twitching head. Her tits brushed across John before coming into view, and he could feel an orgasm building already from this new row of stimulation. Silently he begged her to put it in her mouth. Silently, she responded with her eyes even as her mouth hesitantly kissed it... and then widened... and John groaned into her crotch as she took his babymaker into her pretty, prestigious little mouth. The paladin was sucking his cock... and that was all he could bear.

Hunter's delight: +1mp!

His ring had come off cooldown less than an hour ago, but that was enough for its 41st boon: his swollen balls blasted her mouth to full, and her being too shocked and inexperienced for anything else, dribbled seed from her extended tongue as she retreated.

It was a mistake. John's cock continued to jizz onto her cheeks, her eyes, one blast over her nose, and as she tried to point the hose away and, fearing for her furniture, bent it back down below her face. She thought she'd make him spray himself. He only managed to get some splattered onto her heavy breasts, and she shuddered and twitched as she tried to overcome this new humiliation, this new shame she had somehow helped him create.

She made him come, she was ruined with his seed, stained, perhaps forever, by it, and any false move could get her pregnant (or so she irrationally feared). She whined, she squealed... and finally she joined him in this rut as she sprayed his face with the overflowing contents of her pussy. Four orgasms, and she barely had any mind to realize she came more with him than she could ever manage on her own. John, satisfied with his own orgasm, looked at her status: four purple hearts remaining. He needed to double his progress.

"Moira," he whispered, "we're halfway there..."

"H-... Ha.... Half...?" She could barely express how intimidating he seemed... and blinked, through his cum and with more of him still dripping from her lips, at the obelisk that remained erect. "That's... how can you... ah!" After lubricating them well, John shoved two fingers into her asshole, and she wasn't prepared for the new intrusion.

"Moira, I can use magic to speed this up... I... I kind of already have, but I could make it-"

"You...!" She started to jack him off anew, now lubricated with his seed after failing to wipe it from her face and tits. "Never... without my permission...!"

"Then... is... is that a no-aaah!"

Inadvertently, she dug a knuckle into the base of his cock while trying to massage his balls, and the sensation, at first like pain, filled him with a bliss that he didn't think a handjob could give.

"Hurry up... but... but please... keep your word, no... no matter what!"

He closed the tunnel, and checked his mana. "I will..." With his fingers already in her ass, it seemed as suitable a place as any to put in the new aphrodisiac... and dumped over half his remaining mana into it.

Aphrodisiac applied! Target is now 3,000% more receptive to you. (Previous aphrodisiac overwritten.)

"Hah... John... this feeling, it's... oh God... oh by the... oh...!" As if to gag herself, she greedily shoved him back into her mouth and sucked, sucked with all her lungs could provide, and slowly worked it deeper into her mouth, gagging as her inexperienced throat tried to take in this absurd duty. John let his foot off the brakes, and returned his Gamer's drive to neutral... and feeling the intense pleasure, dared to see, at last, what double the absurdity would actually feel like-

"Huuhhhooooo!" was all he could manage as he filled her mouth anew. Now without enough mind to get him out of her mouth, she could only manage a soft, suckling swallow of every tablespoon of swimmers that filled the back of her throat and gave her only two options: to drown in peasant cum, or gulp it down. Her throat pulsed as she chose the only reasonable option.

Hunter's delight: +1mp!

It would be one of ten such pop-ups for him to read over the next thirty minutes. John didn't dare slouch, and continued to nearly suffocate himself with Brighton pussy, memorizing her taste, her smell, even the burning heat of her swollen labia as he worked it, and was rewarded in short order by another wave of her pleasure. She was down to two hearts, though he could hardly be bothered to check at this point. The minutes of their **** 69 began to blur.

By the end of that one, long string of mutual loving, he had filled her stomach full of his cum, and was left undisturbed as he poisoned the heiress of the Brighton fortune with his seed.

... Hunter's delight: +1mp!
Hunter's delight has reached it's maximum! Bonuses earned: +8 permanent hp, +42 permanent mp.
Hunter's delight has transformed into... hunter's passion!

Magic item: hunter's passion. This is the fully realized version of hunter's delight, transformed almost entirely by sexual energy harvested. Wearing this ring grants +10 LIB, +10 CHA, and doubles you cum volume. Sexual acts performed while this ring is worn now grant experience points based on the level of the partner. Masturbation grants 0 experience.

The additional libido was a haze over John's rational thoughts... but he certainly appreciated the value of experience points, and would happily test it on his higher-leveled partner. Her pussy was red with its soreness now, and she had begun to crawl away from his face, if only to reposition so she could continue nursing his cock. Her purple hearts were gone, replaced now with twelve pink hearts to reflect the line of pleasure they had shared. He had done his duty... but he still wasn't done. The itch of this new libido kept him hard as he blew another load into Moira's mouth, and she again swallowed it all with an uncharacteristic burp to end it.

"Oh... God... John... this was... this was so..."

"I... I know..." he sighed happily. "Are you... relaxed?"

Moira rested her head on his thigh, her ass wiggling in the air as her knees balanced on the edge of her bed. His eyes struggled to focus on hers. "The Lady be praised... I am..."

"Good... you're going to need to be..." John blinked out from under her, and the sudden vanishing of the body threw her off. Her knees fell off of the bed, forcing her to catch herself on her feet as she was left bending over the edge of her bed. Were she not stark-naked with a teleporting boy, that would have been irrelevant... but as it was, she froze halfway through standing up as she felt chilling realization overcome her from between her legs.

She slowly finished rising as she looked between her legs and found his monstrous cock poking out from between her thighs, sandwiched there, the stem of it hotdogged between her pussy lips as it rested against the opening of her sex, daring any technicality the Golden Rose might have. She hadn't told him yet... hadn't told him why he mustn't fuck her tight, virgin little hole, and how important it was that she keep him out. She knew this.

But her thighs didn't know this, and she found herself slowly, pathetically masturbating him with the gentle sway of her pelvis.

"J-John," she muttered, standing upright only to end up in his embrace. He hugged her... hugged across the belly, against the expectation of her tortured nipples, each one demanding more of his torment. His hand rested over her belly, as if to already lay claim to her sacred womb... and even as she felt the urge to cry, she despaired more at how much she hoped he ravaged her. His magic had gone too far, she was sure; she struggled to make that into a withdrawal of consent.

His dick slid back and out of sight, her breath caught-

She moaned in despair, in agony, in the crushing, awful realization... that he was only teasing her as it slid back into view, just barely avoiding getting caught on the mouth of her vagina. As slick with her juices as it was, it would've slid right on in, pounded through her hymen, torn from her the birthright of her clan... taken virtually everything from her and left her a mockery of the powers that be. Instead, it sat against her burning cunt, fully erect, fully lubricated and glistening in the afternoon sunlight. She whimpered in her abject humiliation... and at her own thoughts.

She was furious that he hadn't done it.

She was so **** for him to stop teasing her that she was a few final barriers of self-control away from just guiding him in, as if she had any experience doing that much-

"Moira," John whispered, and at the sound of her name in his voice she was afraid she was already falling in love with the wretch. Her body quaked. She needed him... so badly. "What do you want me to do?"

"No... not now... how could... how could you ask me, now?"

"Just whisper it to me, Moira," John breathed into her ear, sending another shudder through her body. His hand drifted down to scoop the head of his cock and pull it up slightly, adding pressure to her clitoris. The fear, the ecstasy, the shame... it was too much, and she came there, pathetically, with naught but his whispers and the touch of his manhood.