Triss interrupts

So Triss joins and gives Ciri a magical cock.

Ciri woke up groggily, with the haze of the last night receding slowly. Turning in the bedding she found Geralt nowhere to be found. She chastised herself for being so lax and wondered what had made her sleep in. A sharp pain in her rear as she twisted gave her the answer.

Oh that’s right. We tried those potions we bought from that gnome. She grinned and laid back, resting her head in her interlaced fingers as the memories came rushing back. Gods, that made things harder than usual Ciri thought, though it was anything but a complaint. Ciri took no small measure of pride in her own ability to get through it.

Ciri had grown oddly proud in her ability to take Geralt up her arse without whinging or complaining like those tavern wenches so often did. She was no pampered flower that needed molly coddling, and she proved it night after night, for hours on end sometimes. Even when she felt her rear opened and exposed to the cool nights air, she never once tried to run away from Geralt’s rabid thrusts. She kept her arse in place, grit her teeth, dug her fingers into the grass and took him until the two of them were satisfied.

CIri got out of her bedding and began to dress for the day, taking newfound satisfaction in the occasional stinging of her rear. It wasn’t the pain that gratified Ciri, it was what it meant. She was no vapid maiden but she still couldn’t deny the satisfaction of being wanted so fiercely.

Ciri spotted her clothing far away from her bedding, away from it’s usual place. She grabbed her trousers first and placed one leg up on a nearby stump to ease the dressing, but partway through putting her leg down the pant leg she heard a branch snap behind her and instantly realized her mistake.

She rolled her eyes at what was to come and steeled herself. An instant later a searing pain flashed through her as a familiar shape drove itself into her still sore arse harshly. Geralt had grown fond of ambushing and sheathing his sword in her if she let down her guard. It was a game the two had started to enjoy with one another so Ciri had no one to blame but herself for the sudden surprise ploughing.

“Again Geralt, really?” Ciri complained, only half seriously as she felt Geralt pressed flush against her. She was still sore from the last night so another session of ploughing her arse was bound to be much worse.

“Sorry Ciri, don’t know what’s come over me,” Geralt deadpanned as he heaved himself into Ciri, delighting in both her tightness and how wrong it all was.

“I do, it’s those bloody gnome potions. We’re never buying them again.”

“Want me to stop?” Geralt asked, sounding particularly unenthused at the idea.

Ciri shook her head. “Already started, might as well finish,” she said as she placed her other foot on the stump and bent at the knees so she leaned her back against her foster father. The position gave Geralt better access to her depths, a fact he immediately took advantage of to drive even further into her.

Geralt rutted into her for long minutes before he changed motions. Instead of staying inside her, Geralt began pulling entirely out from her rear only to stab the whole length back in suddenly.

Ciri groaned and shifted from the change. She was never a fan of how it felt to be so suddenly speared open, it gave her body no time to adjust or even enjoy the fullness it typically offered. But she wasn’t one to complain and tried to coax whatever pleasure she could from her body as she endured the prolonged ****.

As Geralt plumbed her depths, Ciri felt herself open more and more to the elements until there wasn’t a moment she didn’t feel the wind chill her open arse. And finally, when she felt like she could endure no more, did Geralt finally explode inside her and fill her belly with his seed. Ciri felt the warm, thick liquid fill her so thoroughly that it threatened to overflow from her.

When Geralt pulled out, it left Ciri feeling cavernously empty, even with his seed inside. As the strain of the club-like cock left her, she collapsed limply onto the ground and groaned. “Ploughing finally Geralt. I thought you’d never stop. By the way, ow.”

“Oh quit whining Ciri,” Geralt rasped.

She wanted to throw something at him for that comment, but was too tired to. In her position, face down in the dirt Ciri saw Geralt rummage around until he found what he wanted, her cup. She only knew all too well what that meant. Ever since she had told Geralt about how she paid off some Skelligese raiders, he’d been all too eager to request the same.

Ciri felt Geralt pull her up by the waist onto her knees. She felt the wood lip of the cup press against her a moment before Geralt tilted her further. Soon after, a flood of his thick seed flowed out of her gaping hole, filling the bottom of her cup. Granted Geralt’s volume was enormous, it was still much more manageable than the brimming cup those two dozen Skelligese gave her that one time she played Gwent abysmally. Ciri’s face went sour at the not so pleasant memory.

After coaxing out the remains of his seed, Geralt handed her the prepared drink.

“Fresh from the tap,” Geralt said with a smirk.

Geralt’s humor had taken on an edge of mocking that it hadn’t held before, but Ciri found it oddly exciting.

But she didn’t dare laugh for fear of it appearing to encourage Geralt’s new attitude, but neither was she silent. “Bottoms up,” she said as she tilted the cup back and chugged down the vile seed that had poured from her arse.

She shook her head side to side and made a face as the last of it went down her gullet. “How many times are you going to make me do that Geralt?” Ciri asked.

“As many times as I can, I suppose,” Geralt replied honestly.

“Men,” Ciri complained. “Whether ordinary or mutant, still their all the same.”

“Mmmm,” Geralt mumbled.

~

The change in their relationship meant the two were practically scrambling for contracts afterwards, looking for any way they could find to spend more time in the wilderness together where they could end every night in each other’s embrace, far from prying eyes.

For the rest of their hunts together, the two quickly fell into a routine. Right after they’d finished setting up camp, the two would unwind from the stresses of the day; with Geralt stuffing himself into Ciri’s arse while she did her best to milk the seed from him. It was a routine only broken when Triss Merrigold of Maribor joined them.

~

The day was passing normally for the two. Ciri was pressed up against a tree as Geralt heaved himself into her arse, hard enough it was scraping her soft skin against the bark uncomfortably. Ciri snarled and cursed as she struggled to take his member, but never asked him to stop. She had her own way of enjoying things.

Despite swearing they wouldn’t return to those gnome alchemists, the two had, and often at that. They bought potions of renewal that made Ciri as tight as a maiden again and kept her that way for weeks at a time, no matter what she went through. There were the potions of Maidenbane that grew Geralt to new proportions, elixirs of Fireflesh and Tawny Owl that heightened their senses and pleasure to new levels or improved their stamina to near limitlessness. But most interestingly of all, there were the tinctures of Shared Flesh that allowed Ciri to enjoy herself as Geralt did. Magical in nature, they allowed Ciri to feel what Geralt felt. The combination of mildly poisonous mixtures would’ve killed ordinary people, but Geralt’s mutant biology and Ciri’s built up tolerances allowed them to imbibe the concoctions without fear.

“I can’t believe this is what we’re missing out on,” Ciri groaned as Geralt rammed into her.

She was torn between the pain of having Geralt’s enhanced member bulldozing its way through her guts and the indescribable pleasure that being there was giving him, and by extension, her.

“I really wish I had one of those things when I was with Bea,” Ciri said as she indulged in the shared sensations of Geralt’s club-like cock battering into her colon and rearranging her innards, it was pleasurable enough that it almost made her forget the twisting, churning pain that accompanied it. Ciri looked down and saw that every thrust made her belly bulge outward slightly, almost worryingly. She knew that she was being hurt, that Geralt’s sword had become too much for her to handle, but the renewal potion was reversing the damage as it was being done. “Would’ve been fun, being on the other end of this.”

“Would be fun watching. And she sounds familiar, was she that barmaid?”

“Aye, Geralt, I figured you’d remember her.”

The rabid sodomy had been going on for hours by that point. It was long enough that Geralt would have worn out several ordinary women into gaping uselessness or injury, but for Ciri no such respite would come. The two had climaxed more than a dozen times between them, yet still they went on, with Ciri’s orifices nigh impossible to wear out.

The two of were so taken by ravaging Ciri’s body that they failed to notice the portal opening nearby. They didn’t know how long Triss stood there watching mesmerized with slack jawed interest until the portal closed with a gust of wind.

Geralt instinctively turned towards the sound, pulling out of Ciri as he did and giving Triss a full view of his enlarged member and the briefly gaping arse of his adoptive daughter. Half a dozen orgasms worth of his seed started spilling out of Ciri before it was quickly cut off by her hole tightening into virginhood again.

Upon seeing where Geralt had been burrowing his sword, Triss made a high pitched squeaking sound and turned her head away, muttering out a string of apologies and choked off words.

“I had-I didn’t-I’m sorry,” she said as she hurried away.

“Ploughing Hells,” Geralt muttered. He worried about how the news would find its way to Yen and the consequences that would have. He began to dress so he could go after Triss.

But Ciri was faster. She pulled up her trousers and went after Triss. “Don’t worry Geralt, let me handle it,” she said back at him.

She found Triss in a clearing not so far away still looking shocked.

“Triss?” she called out.

The auburn haired sorceress turned. “Ciri. I…” she trailed off, at a loss for words.

Ciri sighed and approached her. “Triss, we were just having a bit of fun on the road. Nothing to get all twisted up about. You needn’t take these things so seriously.”

“A bit of… Ciri he was…”

“Buggering my arse, I know. We’ve all been there,” she joked. Triss didn’t seem to appreciate the joke. Ciri sighed again. “Triss, it’s not a big deal, truly.”

“Does… Yennefer know?” Triss eventually asked.

Ciri didn’t answer immediately. “Well, no.”

“I can’t imagine what she’ll say,” Triss said.

Ciri gulped at the idea of Yennefer finding out what she had been doing with Geralt. She cared a great deal for Yennefer and didn’t want their relationship strained. “She needn’t say anything,” Ciri blurted. “There’s no need to go telling Yen about every little thing we get up to. Just last week it took me three whole tries to behead a cockatrice and it’s not like I’m ever sharing that story.”

“Ciri,” Triss said gently. “Those two things are very different and you know that. I can’t keep this from Yen.”

Ciri threw up her hands in frustration. “Why not? That didn’t stop you before,” she accused.

“I… That was a mistake, a mistake I paid for.”

Seeing Triss unwilling to keep quiet, Ciri tried a different tactic. “But you enjoyed that mistake a great deal, didn’t you?”

Triss turned away in shame. She’d used Geralt’s amnesia to seduce and bed him for more than a year without mentioning a word of it to Yen.

“How about enjoying it again?” Ciri offered.

Triss looked up. “What?”

“I saw how you stared at him just now. You could take my place, enjoy our Witcher and not a word of it need reach Yen.”

Triss chewed on her lips as she thought it over. She wanted to deny Ciri, wanted to stop herself from making the same mistake. But the image of Geralt ploughing Ciri filled her mind on repeat, making her thoughts descend wickedly and soaking her undergarments. She had stared, wishing that it were her instead of Ciri, up until she saw what his member now looked like. Still, it dissuaded her only a little.

“It’s so satisfying,” Ciri cooed, coaxing Triss. “You wouldn’t believe what a little alchemy can manage.”

Triss’ eyes almost glazed over as she imagined being with Geralt again and having him fill her totally. “Alright,” she said quietly.

~

“Good news Geralt,” Ciri said brightly as she made her way back. “I managed to talk Triss out of speaking of this to Yen.”

Geralt’s shoulders slumped in relief.

“Though, I did have to promise her a few things.”

Geralt looked back up. “Like what?”

“You, namely. Looks like you’ll need to plough her if you want her to keep quiet. Probably a few times.”

“Is that a joke?” Geralt said flatly.

Ciri shook her head.

Geralt could only stare disbelieving. “Remind me to always let you do the talking,” he said.

~

It didn’t take long. Less than a month of having Geralt to herself, Triss was totally besotted again. Enough so that Ciri felt like she could start asking more from Triss without the sorceress being able to say no.

“Triss, I’ve been thinking,” Ciri said while the three shared a bed. “Is there any way I could get one of those things?” she said, pointing at Geralt’s softening cock who was sound asleep.

“It’s all yours,” Triss replied tiredly. “I can’t manage another round.”

“No, I mean actually get one, on me.”

Triss perked up, her scholarly curiosity sharpening her mind at the strange request. “You want a cock?”

“Not permanently, I just want a temporary one to play with. Isn’t there a potion or something?”

Triss shook her head. “There’s no potion on the planet that can do that… But…”

“But what?”

“I remember reading about conjurations that summoned phantom limbs, each able to move and feel like the real thing.”

“And you could make adjustments to those conjurations?” Ciri surmised. “Make them summon a sword instead of an arm?”

Triss hummed. “I’d need to do research, but it might be possible. Only, why would you want one?”

Ciri ran her hand over Triss’ mound and up her body slowly to cup her breast. “I can think of a few reasons.”

“Ciri,” Triss said slowly. “I’m flattered, but you know my interests don’t lie with other women.” While the two had shared a bed and Geralt, Triss’ focus was only ever on Geralt, Ciri was just a pleasant addition.

Ciri shrugged. “Well in that case, you’re going to have to share Geralt a lot more.” Over the past month, Ciri had been letting the sorceress occupy most of Geralt’s time, rarely getting any opportunity to have him to herself. “We’re going to have to split his time with us up more evenly.”

Triss startled at that. She thought back on the last month and imagined cutting her time with Geralt in half. She immediately knew she wasn’t willing to do that. “Alright. Give me a week to find the tomes I need,” Triss said.

Ciri smiled. She gets Geralt, I get her. Everyone wins Ciri thought.

~

Ciri stared at her new cock with interest as Triss finished the summoning and brought forth the phantom limb fully. It was blue and partially transparent, looking as if it was intangible. But as she gripped it in her hand, she felt the firmness of it. The sudden, unfamiliar feelings emanating from her new organ piqued her interest.

She experimentally stroked herself and gasped at the sensation as her cock sprang to life. She had asked for more than a few alterations and Triss had provided. It was apparently more sensitive than a man’s and larger too, almost as large as Geralt was after he’d imbibed Maidenbane.

Ciri stared at her cock for a moment longer before turning hungrily to Triss.

~

Geralt stood by watching as Ciri prepared to use the magically summoned cock on Triss with interest. The two women quickly shared a potion of Shared Flesh before they began, though as Triss hadn’t the the tolerances Ciri did, her dose was much lower and therefore so would the twined sensations be lessened.

Not knowing what would feel good though, Ciri had to rely on advice from Geralt. He instructed Triss to hang her head off the end of the bed it so Ciri could use her throat more easily. Triss did so obediently; there wasn’t much she wouldn’t do if it meant she got to keep Geralt to herself.

“You’ll like that,” Geralt said. “Let’s you get further down her throat.”

Ciri remembered all the times Geralt had ploughed her throat that way. Gagging and coughing up cum and spit up onto her own face had rarely been fun and only tolerable because of the Shared Flesh potions. She hoped it would feel better being on the other end. Let’s see what all the fuss is about Ciri thought as she placed her cockhead against Triss’ lip and pressed in.

Immediately, Ciri was overcome by the pleasure of Triss’ warm, wet mouth wrapping around her member and she groaned involuntarily. She felt her hips moving of their own accord and slid further down her friend’s throat, relishing every second. She saw the way Triss’ throat bulged as she slid in, the way her lips wrapped around her shaft and found a new appreciation for women. Alright, I guess I can understand why Geralt liked doing this to me Ciri admitted.

Ciri sawed in and out of Triss’ throat for long minutes, until the sorceress was slapping at her thighs and pushing her off. Ciri watched as Triss rolled over onto her elbows and sucked in **** gasps of air. Ciri’s eyed widened when she saw her appearance, she hadn’t realized she’d done that. Triss’ face was utterly drenched in her own spit and phlegm while her mascara streaked down her cheeks messily. She looks like a whore Ciri thought.

A wave of visceral pleasure washed over Ciri as she saw what she’d done to her friend and the mess she’d made. Remembering what Geralt would sometimes do, she grabbed her ephemeral cock and slapped it on the sorceresses face, wiping it all over. A rush of satisfaction filled her as she further humiliated her friend.

Triss tilted her face up and let Ciri paint her face with spit before sticking out her tongue and offering her throat again. But Ciri could only manage to stuff half her cock into the orifice. Triss could never manage to swallow the whole thing, as large as it was, and that was only frustrating Ciri more and more.

“Turn around,” Ciri eventually said, having had enough of the frustration and wanting to bottom out. Again Triss obeyed. She spun around and pulled herself up onto her knees, sticking out her arse for Ciri.

With inexperienced motions, Ciri pressed her cockhead against Triss’ brown star and pressed in, popping past the tight ring of muscle. Ciri was getting so lost in the pleasure of her new organ that barely a thought of concern for Triss passed through her mind. Her only thoughts now were how warm and tight her friend was.

“Oh my God Geralt, this feels amazing,” Ciri breatheed out as she sank into Triss’ arsehole. Ciri squeezed her eyes shut as she savored every instant and new sensation of sodomizing her close friend. She grit her teeth as Triss swallowed more and more of her, wrapping her cock in a sheathe of indescribable pleasure. Too soon she had bottomed out and felt her hips pressed against Triss’ soft arse.

“Gods Geralt, how did you manage to keep yourself off me if this is what it feels like,” Ciri breathed, shivering in delight.

“I wonder that myself,” Geralt said.

“If I were you, I’d shove that cock up my arse every chance I got.”

“Don’t I already do that?”

“Not enough. Wait, that’s not what I meant,” Ciri said as she realized what she just said and the trouble she might’ve just gotten herself in.

Geralt just chuckled.

Eh, a worry for another time Ciri thought. She pulled back and began pumping. Being new to having a cock, she used it carelessly and selfishly on Triss, not showing any concern about the other woman’s comfort, or rather forgetting about everything that didn’t involve getting herself off. Ciri savaged the sorceresses’ arse endlessly, making the red-haired woman grip the bedsheets with white knuckles.

“Ciri, enough,” Geralt warned. “You’re being too harsh on her.”

The words snapped Ciri out of her hedonistic haze and she pulled out guiltily. “Triss, are you alright?”

“I-I’m fine,” Triss said weakly. Even if Ciri was being rough, she felt she could hardly complain since she was much the same before and the potion was doing it’s job.

Geralt was right, Ciri had been too rough on her friend. “I’m sorry Triss, I don’t know what came over me,” Ciri said.

“It’s alright Ciri, you got a bit carried away is all. Happens to us all the first time we get one.”

Ciri cocked her head. “Happens to us all?”

“I had to test the spell myself first obviously, to see if it worked,” Triss admitted. “I paid a wench to help me test it out…” she said, trailing off.

Ciri quirked her brow, surprised at the admission but still feeling guilty. “Nevertheless, you can do the same to me if you want, it’s only fair.”

Triss nodded. A mere week ago she would’ve turned down the offer, but the spell was opening her eyes to the appeal of other women. The thought of enjoying Ciri’s body gave her an unfamiliar trill of excitement. “You can put it back in now.”

Ciri did and struggled to restrain herself the second time around. She had gotten an idea of how it felt with the Shared Flesh potions, but the real thing was entirely different. Sharing in what Geralt felt had been good, but doing it herself was viscerally pleasing in a whole new way. Ciri felt a satisfaction in conquering Triss’ arsehole like nothing she’d felt before and pulled the other woman deeper onto her pole as wicked, unfamiliar thoughts filled her mind. Ciri looked down and the sight of her friend’s arsehole stretched so tautly around her phantasmal cock almost made her drool.

She stretched Triss’ arsehole open with her thumbs as she pulled out, making the other woman yawn open widely so that she could see the pretty pink insides. That time she did drool.

Ciri looked up at Geralt almost in a daze. “I can see why you like mine so much,” she said. “Truly Geralt, how you manage to keep your hands off me I’ll never understand now.”

~

Afterwards, whenever Geralt split her open, no matter how badly he wore her out or what new humiliations he made her go through, Ciri just couldn’t find it in herself to deny him knowing what she knew now. Whenever he splayed her open and pulled her arse apart with his fingers, she no longer felt she had any grounds to complain when she had done the same to Triss. She remembered how beautiful Triss looked inside and knew Geralt felt the same about her. In fact, knowing how good her arse could feel, she was just surprised he wasn’t forcing her to the ground and spearing himself into her more often. Ciri shook her head. I’d make a terrible man she thought. If I had a hole on hand like Geralt does, I’d never stop using it.

Triss had left the two of them alone again after Lodge business called her away so Ciri found herself missing the sorceress every day for two very important reasons.

Ciri laid on her back and spread herself open as Geralt battered his way deep into her guts, with each stroke knocking some wind out of her. The pleasure outweighed the discomfort and she pressed herself against him, urging him deeper. She watched herself in mirrors and focused on the sensations being sent through the Shared Flesh potions, trying to take as much pleasure as she could from the way he ruined her arsehole. Yet it wasn’t the same as having the phantom cock and using it, but it was almost as good so Ciri took what she could get.

When he finished and pulled out, Ciri craned her neck up to stare at the pink, glistening, ridged walls of her own arse in the reflection. She was spread open so wide, a smaller man might put himself in without even touching those walls. Such a whore Ciri thought.

Geralt took every advantage of her new way of thinking to wear her arse like a cocksleeve more and more, but Ciri could hardly blame him for it; she’d do the same after all.

Without Triss and the summoning spell, Ciri resorted to more and more **** methods to try and recapture the same things she felt. Larger doses of Maidensbane, more exotic and dangerous mixtures of potions, she even gave Dandelion a Shared Flesh and let the two men share her arse at once. She squeezed them as they used her flesh, filled her womanhood with her hand to further tighten herself, as much for her own benefit as theirs. But still, it all paled to being with Triss. Being a whore was all fine and good, but making a whore of someone else? She missed that most of all.

As time went on, the constant use of Shared Flesh began to distort her sense of things so that her own pleasure was no longer enough. In time, in order for Ciri to cum at all anymore, she needed to feel another climax too through the link. So only when she felt Geralt spray his seed deep into her arse could she have her own orgasm. The fact that this, to Geralt and any onlookers, looked like Ciri could only climax from getting her arse filled was only too good.

Geralt held Ciri down by the hips and pressed her into the log she was straddling as he thrust into her arse again and again. Every thrust made the rough bark dig into her soft flesh as he pounded into her, but her only concern was squeezing and massaging him with her arse, trying to get him to cum since that was the only way she could.

After near an hour of work, of speaking every manner of filth she could think of to entice him, she finally coaxed the seed from him and felt it spray inside her hotly. The shared sensation finally took her over the edge too and her own delayed orgasm washed over her. Ciri bucked under Geralt’s grip as her own orgasm ripped through her. A spray of her own juices flew violently out of her womanhood and stained the bark beneath her wet. The sight of Ciri cumming to nothing but hard arsefucking gave Geralt no small measure of satisfaction.

He pulled out and savored the sight of the raw, gaping hole of Ciri’s arse as she lay limpy, recovering; every breath making the meat shudder. The doses of Maidenbane he was imbibing now were so concentrated he left her utterly ruined after every session. It would be near an hour before the healing potions would do their work and restore her to virginhood.

“When do you think Triss will be finished with her business?” Ciri asked, still unmoved from her place on the log even many minutes later.

“Hard to say with sorceress business,” Geralt rasped.

Ciri weakly pushed herself up and went over to Geralt, straddling his lap and not worrying about the way his seed began dripping out of her arse. She grabbed his hands and placed them over her breasts. The sensation of perfect, soft flesh flled her own palms as he kneaded her. Why do I feel so much better through his senses? Ciri wondered for the hundreth time. Even masturbation had lost its appeal and she preferred to gag herself on Geralt’s cock to get herself off.

“Perhaps we could go to her then? Maybe she could use the help,” Ciri said, grasping at any way to reunite with Triss.

“First we’d have to find out where she is, and I doubt the Lodge would tell us.”

“Perhaps… Perhaps Yennefer could help us?” Ciri ventured.

“You couldn’t enjoy Triss’ ‘company’ if we involved Yen,” Geralt said, pointing out the obvious.

“I wish Triss would come back already,” Ciri said longingly.