Only if she doesn't get caught.

"How do they track you?" John spoke as he continued his walk towards the Forge, and Tara followed closely.

"How should I know?! It could've been just about anything, from marking the elemental to something about my oaths to the Cabal. All I know is I've been tracked ever since I became a member, even before I knew what that would mean..."

John glanced at her status again; the Cabal title was well and truly missing. Maybe getting captured overwrites such things... but how can I risk that? He checked the hopper of his Forge, and blinked at the hopper's inventory: stuffed to over half capacity with the soul gems from Yarrick's bounty and all the crafting materials that had yet to find use. Every 100 gems counted for a single inventory slot, leading him to wonder how long it would take before the basic hopper no longer sufficed.

"Hey..." He felt her presence behind him and grew alarmed, but her touch was gentle... even seductive as she pressed her impressive assets against his shoulder. Her body, even doused, remained warm when he felt it pressed against him, and she whispered onto the top of his head as she held him. "... maybe we can exchange favors, huh? You let me back in to the real world, and I'll be extra nice to you."

Her hands started to wander down his body, dragging sensation and sense down with the palms of her hands. His hands finally leapt to grip them, and stopped their snaking paths. "No... if... if I'm going to let you out, it'll be because it's safe. You... don't owe me anything."

"That's really sweet... long as it means I get to leave."

John walked forward and away from her grip, and struggled to breathe as he willed himself away from the raunchy shag he knew he craved. The Forge, large enough for three rows of tables, had two narrow alleyways in which he could walk. The tailor's table was at the farthest end, though given her presence he suddenly felt threatened by going down into so tight a space. "Let's... get you some clothes."

"You know, John..." She seemed to love to put an odd cadence to his name. "... I should hate you... I should really hate you. I'm too old to be having high school crushes like this, and I know I should be over a man who leaves marks on his women... so why do I feel f'you anyways? Why have I had to try and stop thinking... about just about nuthin' except riding your cock the moment I saw you again?"

He swiped along the list of craftables, trying to not give away his nervousness. I can't tell her about the hive tyrant's ring... it might be that I have to borrow something from her, and if she knew, she'd just hate me more... "I-I think it would be rude to tell you what I think."

"Try me," she breathed, following him deeper into the Forge. He was trapped there, inside his own domain... or at least as trapped as someone who could teleport with a thought could ever be.

He felt pre-cum stain his boxers; his arousal continued to rise, and that, more than any magic the Hellbat could command, kept him anchored. He was barely able to read the item descriptions at this point. "Maybe... you just... really liked our..."

"Fuck?" She chuckled without malice, and drew closer. He could smell her sweat, and any effort to find clothes for her was well and truly over. "Whatever it was, you cursed me somehow... used a spell to make me feel... unbelievable."

"I'm sorry..."

"Are you kidding? It's been damn near half a day going stir-crazy in here, and I'm still buzzing from the feeling. I wouldn't have it any other way." John looked up to her, a horny hope sparking in his eyes. "... but I also know that means this feeling is bullshit."

His expression fell, but he didn't want to fuck her any less. He turned to face her, and looked her body over as she cast another douse. "You're making it really hard..." ... to focus on getting her clothes, is what he meant to say.

"I bet I am," came the hasty, whimsical retort. She lunged for his pants and gripped the meat she found there. "Oh... I don't know. I mean this ain't bad at all... but I remember it being bigger. Got a spell to help compensate?" Her eyebrows arched as she felt the meat grow past her grip on his pants, and soon his layers were peeling off, piece by piece, into his inventory. Leaving his boxers for last, she pressed herself against him when his meat was finally loose, and arched her back to lift her clit against his upturned cock. The head surged between their bellies, and she stared with half-lidded eyes and gritting teeth.

"Fuck..." John moaned as she masturbated him with naught but their bodies and her cunt against the base of his shaft, and the heat at the back of the Forge soon saw them both sweating. "Tara... you should know..."

"Shut up and fuck me up with magic, you perverted slaver," she hissed, and bit harshly on his ear. His body shook from the sensation; what should have been pain became naught but stimulation thanks to his damage resistance. "Oooh, you can take it, huh?" She let herself loose on him, chewing like a rabid beast as she intensified her grind, urging a trembling droplet of pre at the mouth of his urethra. He couldn't take it for long, as it turned out.

"Are... are you sure?"

"I'm pissed off, wanting you and hating you like this. So go ahead: curse me until I don't have to think about it anymore."

Well, she is asking for it. John was far beyond holding back... and he almost let her have precisely what she wanted. "But I want you to think about it."

"What?" she breathed at the ear she continued to chew.

"I've never had a woman like you. I want you to want me... without magic." His hands no longer held back, either: they glided along the sweat of her body, terminating their journeys at her tits as he twisted fat, black nipples into his mouth one after the next. He gave her similarly vicious bites, and used tiny heal monster castings to ease her pain as she moaned. "I want to fuck you until you're happier now than you were with the Cabal."

"The fuck do you think this is? You know damn well what you did can't-"

"You're coming with me."

"Like Hell I-" Except he didn't quite mean it that way; the next instant saw them jumped into the Sanctuary, with Tara landing clumsily atop her master. "-amoa!"

"Stop dousing yourself," John commanded. "Just for this."

She trembled as he continued to massage her chest, and **** his hands into her own before pinning them over his head. She lowered her face to his, and squeezed the cock, nestled quietly against her sex, with her colossal thighs. Larger in every dimension, John felt she would've devoured him only a week ago. "You know I'll burn you something awful like that... unless that's how you're going to apologize."

"Trust me on this wuuhuuuunuh-" His words melted as she slid her bare lips along his shaft, and again she bit at his neck, tugging at his throat with vicious bites that did naught but send bizarre waves of bliss shuddering through him.

"I'm only allowed to attack you like this, when it can't hurt you, huh..."

"Are you... normally into this?"

She sucked hard on his neck, and narrowed her eyes at the lack of marks left behind. "This is all I'm normally into. But if you're not going to feel my fire anyways..."

"That's not it." John tried to raise up, pushing up on her arms as she had him pinned, but she threw all her weight forward and pinned him to the bed anew. "I made you... um, unreasonably fertile today. I was in kind of a mood back then-"

"What?!" Her thighs squeezed as if to deny him, but it only dragged him to climax. There, trapped in her hot pocket of thighs and labia, John groaned as he surrendered to the sensation. She felt him pulsing between her legs, and froze as he started to ejaculate uselessly into her taint, painting her crotch and ass in dangerous seed. "You son of a..." She cut herself off; despite herself, the feeling of it only deepened her thirst for the bastard. He continued to throb, and so she continued to hold him there, terrified of letting the massive hose loose until it finally stopped splattering them both in jizz.

John sighed happily, and relaxed underneath his thick goddess. "Long as you're running hot, though... you probably kill all the sperm I can shoot into you. So you're safe..." He felt safe too... right until he felt her fiery grip on his left hand.

Tara is no longer doused!

He wasn't taking damage... perhaps solely thanks to how low her intensity was, but it was a relief all the same.

The bedsheets were another matter entirely. "S-Shit," John cried as the perfect whites of the linens blackened and then lit up. The inferno of hair towering from her head touched the canopy and set it alight as well, and soon they were surrounded by spreading flames. John sweat bullets as the heat came over him in waves, and Tara simply smiled and slid herself up and down his still-hard length. The warm cum that lubricated this piston started to grow hot on John's most sensitive member.

"Too hot, Johnny?"

Hell no... not you, too! He wiggled his fingers, and felt the strange sensation of her transformed hand: physical, but malleable like clay that reinforced itself, or adjusted to his pushing. They remained fingers, infinitely flexible fingers, and curiosity and pride mixed into a daring that might've made him scream a day ago. "Not hot enough." He blinked, and the dimensions of his arrival were agreeable: his head was a smaller object than his entire pelvis, after all. Tara, in her surprise, was already leaning forward; he needed only to wipe the boiling cum away from her undercarriage before wrapping his arms around her massive thighs and shoving her down on his face. The Hellbat, stunned by the sudden appearance of Ol' One Eye, moaned and wiggled in half-hearted protest, and soon the bed was a sea of fire as they were left fucking on flames quickly spreading across the bed's surface.

Tara eyed the cock before her, framed and made haunting by falling cinders and flickering shadows. The mood was too right; she wrapped her human fingers around it to give it a few pumps, aweing at it. How is this much dick still hard?! "Fucking... disgrace... of a man..."

John lifted his chin out of her crotch to shout over the crackling flames all about his head. "Use the other hand, Tara, or I won't let you ride it!"

"Let me? I'm about to take you to Hell, child." Out of spite she obeyed, and focused her fiery digits into slender, plasma-like fingers before crushing them against the unbending rod of flesh.

-2hp

John barely felt the pain... and rescinded nothing of his instructions. The damage ticked again in another six seconds, and that seemed like more than enough time to find satisfaction. He smothered himself in her loving embrace, and she continued to viciously milk him as the bed became a burning coal. Nearby, a cleric spirit panicked, unsure of how to even approach the burning fuck pile before its invisible eyes.