You allow a Saving Throw, but with Conditions

You slapped your own forehead. “Right. The rules.” The game’s structure, however flimsy, was the anchor. “Fine. Vanwyssa can attempt a Will save against permanent vampiric domination. DC thirty.”

Chasey’s eyes, still glazed from your cum leaking down her thigh, sharpened with calculation. “What’s the modifier for being incredibly turned on and full of my master’s seed?” she purred, crawling towards you on her knees.

“Disadvantage,” you said, your voice gruff. “But every rule has a loophole.” You gestured to the heavy oak table now littered with dice and pizza crusts. “You can earn a bonus. A… personal appeal.”

She understood instantly, a wicked smile spreading across her face. “An appeal to your mercy, my lord?” Her hands were already at your waist, her fingers deft as they began stroking your hard rod, still moist from where your fluids had mixed with Chasey’s.

“Stroke it,” you commanded, leaning back against the edge of the transformed gaming table. “You want that saving throw? You work for it. And when I come, it’s not going on the floor.” You nodded towards Maggie and Erin, who strained against their bonds, their clothing offering no concealment, their breath catching. “It’s going all over your righteous friends.”

“Deal,” Chasey whispered, her fist closing around your shaft. She spit into her palm, the sound obscenely loud in the quiet room, and began to pump you with a steady, knowing rhythm. Her other hand cupped your balls, rolling them gently as her thumb smeared pre-cum over your tip.

You let your head fall back, watching the shadows dance on the vaulted ceiling you’d created. Lacey had moved behind the bound women, her hands kneading their shoulders, whispering encouragements that were anything but merciful. “Just look at her,” Lacey murmured into Erin’s ear. “She’s gonna get him so fucking hard for you. You want that, don’t you, Lady Candy? You want to be painted?”

Erin moaned, a sound of pure conflict, her paladin’s resolve cracking like old plaster. “It’s… a stratagem,” she gasped out, her dark eyes fixed on Chasey’s working hand. “A distraction.”

“Bullshit,” Maggie breathed, her glasses slightly fogged. Her hips made a small, involuntary circle against her ropes. “You’re as wet as I am. Just fucking admit it.”

Chasey’s pace intensified, her wrist a blur. She leaned forward, taking you deep into her mouth, her throat working around you before pulling off with a wet pop. “Are they watching, master?” she asked, her voice husky. “Do they see how good I am for you?”

“They see,” you grunted, the pressure coiling tight in your gut. The scent of sex, of leather and female sweat, was overwhelming. “They’re waiting for their blessing.”

You tangled a hand in Chasey’s red pigtails, not guiding, just holding, feeling the tension in her scalp as she worked you. Your hips began to piston forward, meeting her strokes, fucking the tight circle of her fist. The pleasure was a white-hot wire, pulled taut.

“Now, Chasey,” you growled, your control snapping. “The saving throw. Roll it now.”

With a cry that was half-laugh, half-triumph, she redoubled her efforts, her hand a frantic vise. “Come for them, master,” she chanted. “Mark them. Fucking paint them.”

You erupted. The first thick rope of cum shot across the space, splattering hot and white across the swell of Maggie’s left breast, just above where the curve of Sifu’s orange robe struggled to contain her massive mounds to titflesh. She cried out, arching her back, trying to press more of her skin into the line of fire.

You turned, still pulsing, as Chasey aimed you. The second blast caught Erin across the collarbone and chin, dripping slowly onto her own massive chest. She shuddered, her mouth open in a silent ‘O’ of shock, her tongue darting out to catch a stray droplet before she seemed to realize what she was doing and clenched her jaw.

The last few spurts landed on their laps, glazing their bound thighs. The room fell silent save for heavy breathing. Chasey released you, licking her fingers clean with a satisfied smirk.

She reached for her d20, her hand trembling only slightly. “Okay,” she said, the game crashing back into the erotic ruin. “Will save. With… inspiration.” She blew on the die for luck and let it tumble across the wood.

It clattered to a stop. Natural twenty.

“Fuck yeah,” Lacey whooped.

Chasey looked up at you, her expression one of mock innocence. “It appears Vanwyssa’s will is… fortified by her new duties. She remains your spawn, but her mind is her own.” She leaned forward, licking a stripe up your softening cock. “Now what, my lord?”

You looked at your glistening, bound party, their eyes wide with anticipation and shame. The game was far from over.