Hedonistic Heroism (Rewrite) Chapter One

Hedonistic Heroism (Or, How I Saved the Multiverse Via the Shameless Pursuit of Personal Pleasure)

Chapter One

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“Goddamnit…” I groan, leaning back in my computer chair and staring at the off-white ceiling of my bedroom in exasperation as the famous Final Fantasy victory theme played for the umpteenth time tonight. I loved this series, I really did, and I thought XIV was one of the best MMORPGs in the world. Certainly better than the current writing for World of Warcraft, that was for sure, with its almost schizophrenic depiction of characters. I was all for nuance and complex characters, but Blizzard seemed to be throwing a lot of tropes at the wall and hoping it stuck more than anything else. Still, superior writing and visuals didn’t mean I wasn’t bored with it, and honestly with everything else I owned. I had no passion for painting models right now, not when I had no idea the next time it would be safe to actually play some Warhammer, and work wasn’t exactly something to get excited about either.

The world was going to shit, my personal life was bland and uninspiring, and I quite frankly got out of bed everyday simply because lying around was an even less pleasant option than apathetically going about my day.

Throwing myself back into the queue, this time as a Dancer rather than a Red Mage, I turned my attention to my second screen. None of my favorite fanfics had been updated recently, doubtlessly because the same COVID-created apathy and lack of creativity was affecting everyone else as badly as it was affecting me. I had little hope for a ‘diamond in the rough’, given the merciless nature of the internet and Sturgeon’s Law, but hours of trawling through the internet had resulted in gems before.

The thing about the internet, though, and search engines in particular, is that you never quite know where you are going to end up. Especially once you started Link Surfing, which is how I got from a reddit thread talking about the Warrior of Light’s ‘true nature’ to a shipping war, which led me to a debate on the ethics of non-monogamous relationships, and so on down the proverbial road until I found myself on the home page for The Company and their Catalogue. A company which only referred to itself as ‘The Company’, and a catalogue that was a treasure trove of perversion.

Now, I’m a pervert, I’ll admit that without shame. I’m a kinky, libidinous, enthusiastic purveyor of sex-related content across countless mediums, and I was a bored and lonely one stuck inside because there was a fucking plague outside the brick walls of my Fortress of Boredom. If I couldn’t get out there and enjoy myself physically, I might as well fantasize, right?

My perusal of this payload of preeminent perverted potential was interrupted by a knock on my door. Frowning, I glanced out my window (conveniently placed directly above the front door) and glimpsed what appeared to be some sort of delivery person. I had a few things on order, so that in and of itself wasn’t particularly strange, but the fact that they would knock rather than just leave it on the porch was rather strange, especially under current circumstances. Maybe someone from Ebay had requested a signature, to prove the package had been delivered in order to prevent some fraud? I’d never done it, but from what I gathered it was easy to get Ebay to refund you even if an item was delivered.

Padding down the stairs, mindful as ever of my smart-wool clad feet and their slipperiness, I grabbed a mask from the drying rack and opened the door.

“Delivery for you.” I was told, the box thrust in my direction, and I looked down at the label in an effort to discern which particular purchase had just been delivered. Instead, all I found was the emblem of The Company. Eyes widening, I looked up, a question for the driver on my lips, but they were gone. Looking around carefully, I was completely unable to locate either them or any form of transportation that they might have come in.
More than a little disturbed, I headed back to my room and inspected the box carefully. It didn’t seem like anything was wrong, no protruding wires, strange bulges, or what have you. It was, by all appearances, nothing more than a simple (if nicely made) box. I felt like I was in some sort of spy flick, with the suspiciously coincidental timing of the package’s arrival to my browsing of The Company’s website. Breaking open the seals, I pulled out a truly spectacular, and realistically weighty, rendition of an Omni-tool from Mass Effect, though it also had an interesting palm attachment of some sort that I didn’t remember seeing in the game…

Strapping it to my wrist, I turned it this way and that, admiring the detail and quality of the prop. I had no idea why something like this had been sent to me, or even that anything more than cheap and clumsy plastic trash versions had existed, but I wasn’t inclined to complain. Even the buttons looked real…

In a flash of light, the omni-tool blazed to life, a cobalt blue aura of haptic interface coalescing around my arm, and as I rotated the limb to get a better look at it, the palm device lit up as well. A small figure appeared there, a very attractive young woman dressed rather smartly, and she looked up at me with a small smile.

“It is my genuine pleasure to welcome you to The Company! Your interest in our Catalogue, amongst other traits, has ensured your selection for our Program! Upon activation of this Smart Device, you are officially and irrevocably a Client of the Catalogue, and may begin your ‘Character Generation’ process. Please ensure you carefully read through all the options and rules, as confirmation of your Starting Build cannot be withdrawn once given. Choose wisely, Client, and enjoy!”

Was this…real? I mean, there couldn’t actually be a secret corporate organization that gave people the ability to roam the multiverse capturing gorgeous women to build a harem while becoming what amounted to a god, right? Because that would be insane…and awesome. Fuck it, I hated life, I might as well give this damn thing a try, right?

It didn’t take me more than a few hours to come up with a satisfactory, and it surprisingly only came with two waifu, based instead on enhancing my own personal strength to a significant level and ensuring that the worlds I visited would be…adjusted to suit my personal tastes. I also made the decision to sacrifice, via the remarkably useful Meta Shift perks, a pair of Ranma ½ fanfiction (One-Half Wing and A Prayer and Conjunction) and the entirety of Oda Nobuna no Yabou. My rendition of Inuyasha, my starting world, would be quite unique.

My decisions made and the build complete, I took one last look around the small apartment that was my home. Maybe I would return someday, and maybe I wouldn’t, but I knew that I was about to be a part of something so much grander than I ever could staying here. I firmly pressed the CONFIRM button on the interface, there was a chime and a flash of violet light…and I was standing on a grassy hill, trees around me and the wind blowing through my hair.

Appropriate to the time and place in which I now stood, I was clad in samurai-esque armor, a long chokuto on my left hip. I knew what I looked like, having played the character for years in Final Fantasy: five and a half feet, muscular, with crystalline pink eyes and the third eye of a Garlean Pureblood on my forehead, concealed behind the gold-and-ruby Star of the Nezha Lady. My hair, once short, curly, brown, and entirely boring, was now a work of art. With the bangs braided back on one side, leading to a high ponytail that hung down to just below my shoulder blades, and the bangs of the far side framing my face just so, I was (dare I say it) hot.

I closed my eyes, inhaling deeply and enjoying the crisp and clean air, cleaner than anything I had ever imagined. Even the top of Mount Washington hadn’t smelt like this, tainted as my old home had been by the stench of industry. The air of Japan during the Sengoku Jidai, pre-industrial as it was, was about as different from home as one could get. Indeed, if I had been in my old body I might have gotten lightheaded or even sick, so much richer was the oxygen content of this forest-filled world than my own. It made me happy, so terribly happy, that I had opted for a fantasy world rather than a modern one. Only in worlds like Inuyasha or Warcraft could I enjoy something like this.

“Mistress.” A pair of voices, each familiar, murmured from behind me, and I turned to regard the pair of waifu that I had decided to purchase during character generation. I turned and regarded them, a small smile crossing my lips as I beheld their kneeling, head-bowed forms.

The beautiful and famed Jeanne d’Arc, La Pucelle d’Orleans. Perhaps the person I respected most out of all my historical heroes, which had made my decision to purchase the real her from the Company as soon as I saw it was an option. Long golden blonde hair hung to her waist, silvered-steel armor shielding her vitals and a sword at her hip. Even if she hadn’t been so useful in a medieval world, even if she had not been so beautiful, so desirable, I could not have left her by the wayside.

Beside her, the equally radiant Pyrrha Nikos, the Invincible Girl. My favorite character, besides Ruby herself, from the RWBY anime, her death had driven me from the series entirely. Something that I was still bitter about today. Like Joan, she was as beautiful as she was useful, with her talent in combat and the aid provided with her Semblance of prime assistance in a world of sword and spear.

“Rise, both of you.” I said softly, and they obeyed, getting to their feet with swift grace, and I regarded them for a long moment before stepping forward and pulling Joan into my arms. I felt how she stiffened, how she flinched ever so slightly before steeling herself, and my heart wept, for purchasing the ‘real’ Joan had meant purchasing one that had been stolen from her home and sold like cattle, something that plagued her still. I moved to reassure her immediately, pressing a soft kiss to her hair. “My sweet Joan, beloved of France, do not fear me. Until your heart heals, you will not be brought into my bed. Let your heart be at ease, knowing that you have until the stars fall from the heavens to offer me your love.”

I released our embrace, lightly holding her arms and regarding her seriously until she nodded, blushing faintly and looking sad, before turning to Pyrrha, who was gazing up at me with adoring jade eyes. Unlike Joan, whom I had specifically left as she was in order to let her recover naturally, Pyrrha had already been ‘modified’ by Mesmera to be a perfect bride for me. Submissive, capable, masochistic, brave, obedient, and willing to question me when required. Yes, I had no interest in mindless drones whose only purpose was for fucking. I wanted women that could stand beside me and help me shape the future.

“My Pyrrha, fierce fighter and passionate protector of the innocent.” I said, holding my arms out to her, and she flowed into them, her lips pursed and parted hopefully, a rosy blush on her cheeks. I had always been quite convinced that Pyrrha, if given the opportunity, would be one of the most perverted, most libidinous girl in the whole of her universe. Followed only by the ever-so-innocent Ruby, and the regal, stuffy Schnee sisters. No one would ever be able to convince me otherwise. Our lips met, the fingers of my left hand threading through her hair while my right coasted its way down her body to cup the shapely curve of her ass. She was as soft as she was eager, nipping and licking and sucking at my lips and moaning as I returned the same efforts two-fold upon her own body. Pulling away nearly two minutes later, I looked down into her hazy eyes, admired her swollen lips and dazed expression, and felt my own mouth curve into a smug smile. Glancing between her and Joan, I addressed the pair warmly “Come, my Huntress, my Saint. Let us see for the first time our new home.”

We set off towards the Bone-Eater Well, reveling in the beauty all around us, Pyrrha cuddled up to my side and Joan strolling along with all the regal grace she held, looking around with great interest. That made sense, I suppose, Japan hadn’t been discovered by Europe when she had died, and wouldn’t for about three hundred years, and Japan of the Sengoku Era was doubtless very different indeed from France of the Hundred-Years War.

I could smell the hint of smoke on the wind, the scents of men and beast, and couldn’t help but feel incredible glee at the fact that, even as this distance, I could smell Kaede’s village, the village that would eventually become Tokyo itself. I looked forward to travelling this world, one of the first anime and manga that I had experienced as a child, one of those that had honestly awoken my appreciation for those forms of media…and awoken my interest in strong warrior women. Kagome was beautiful, of course, soft and sweet in a way that was powerfully appealing, but Sango had always been my favorite girl from Inuyasha. A good example of a strong-willed female fighter that was none-the-less conventionally beautiful and feminine when she wanted to be. A much better example of it than Akane Tendo, who was someone that I was…not terribly fond of. Even most fanfiction versions of her, I couldn’t stand.

The trip didn’t take long, even at the leisurely pace with which we were moving, and we quickly spotted the vast, sprawling edifice that was my World Dungeon. Fittingly, in my opinion, it bore the appearance of the Hanging Gardens of Babylon, a towering ziggurat covered in tiered terraces that burst with greenery, artificial ponds and waterfalls, all restrained by elegantly carved, intricately decorated, and richly painted. I could only imagine how shocking it would be for the locals to come across it in the near future, but for now my only interest was getting inside my temple, so I could get inside of my Pyrrha.

Sadly, despite its incredible exterior appearance, the World Dungeon had little substance to it. In fact, currently, the only thing that it possessed was a throne room for myself, which is where we were headed now. We passed The Well as we went, lying innocently at the base of my Gardens, its simple, small wooden shape utterly beneath notice for those who were not looking for it by comparison. We ascended the stairs slowly and steadily, and when I reached the top I couldn’t help but turn and look back, picturing the day where not just this World Dungeon, but my Home Dungeon, were not surrounded by vast planes and trees, but sprawling cities. An empire, stretching across dimension, with my new family and I as it’s beating heart.

We passed through the doors, admiring the towering statues shaped like mythological beasts flanking it, and I paused to admire the painted carvings just within, lips quirking up in pleasure. This hall, leading to my throne room, would be a Hall of Memories. It would tell my story, all the triumphs and moments of glory that would shape the future, and though it at this moment showed nothing but met standing on a grassy hill with Pyrrha and Joan kneeling at my feet, this temple looming in the background, I could picture in my mind what stories it would tell in the future.

“Mistress, please.” Pyrrha pleaded, desire and impatience heavily present in every syllable, and I clicked my tongue slightly as I turned to regard her with a chastising look.

“Pyrrha, really, I know that you’re desperate, but I must insist that you contain yourself. You will receive me, whatever I decide to gift you, whenever and however I decide to give it to you.” I reminded her, and she frowned slightly, nodding her obedience all the same, and I grinned before reaching over to tug on her ponytail sharply, getting a hiss of mingled pleasure and pain. “Fortunately for you, I am indeed a gracious owner. Go ahead and strip, then wait for be before my throne. I will be with you shortly.”

She obeyed eagerly, dashing of down the hall with a restrained expression of glee. Honestly, I hope that she regained her calm demeanor in public, because she would hardly be taken seriously as one of my battle-brides if she was constantly displaying more eagerness for sex than more serious matters.

Turning to Joan, I reached out to cup her cheek gently, ensuring our eyes met.

“I know you are not ready to watch us have sex, my Joan. Do you want to go to our Home Dungeon, or explore the surrounding area, or something else entirely?” I asked gently, and her eyes dropped for a moment as she thought about it, before rising to meet mine again.

“I will make sure that there are no demons in the vicinity of the village, My Lady.” She decided, and I nodded, brushing her cheek with a thumb gently before starting to drop my hand and turn away. She grabbed my hand, holding me in place, placing it back on her cheek and leaning into it slightly. “Thank you for your patience, your kindness, with this broken bird.”

“You are not broken!” I responded firmly, almost harshly, with a rumble of anger in my chest. She flinched and guilt flooded through me, and I pulled her into a warm embrace, the hand on her cheek wrapping around her shoulders as the other circled her waist. “I’m sorry, Joan, I didn’t mean to seem as if I was angry at you, but I will not permit you to insult yourself because of the actions of that bastard who did this to you. You are not broken, and I will not suffer those words to be spoken.”

She hesitated for a long, long moment, before nodding against my chest, her own arms coming up to hold me for a brief moment before she let go and stepped back. I let the separation happen, respecting the wish of space despite my desire to hold her until the grief in her heart had been sapped away, and she gave me a tremulous, but heartfelt smile and pressed a kiss to my cheek.

“You have a beautiful soul, My Lady.” She told me with quiet sincerity, before her eyes took on a somewhat wicked glint as she pulled away entirely and turned to leave, calling over her should. “For an irredeemable pervert obsessed with shamelessly indulging in sinful vice, at any rate!”

“You have to sin to get saved!” I called back, watching her with a small smile on my face, glad she had cheered up some. “Hey, if you find a cute dog boy pinned to a tree by an arrow, don’t do anything to him! We’ll need him later!”

She gave me a wave of acknowledgement before accelerating to Servant-level speeds, quickly vanishing even from my draconic sight, and I shook my head before turning and heading inside. Traversing the hall went quickly, even at a casual pace, due to the still-limited nature of World Dungeon, I found myself entering my throne room. A cross between Greek and Mesopotamian architecture (which effectively made it look distinctly Byzantine, quite frankly, which was exactly what I was looking for. That was my favorite, after all.), with a high cathedral roof supported by towering columns, sunlight streaming in through stained-glass windows, with artifacts and tables and chairs scattered around the long purple carpet that led to the dais upon which my throne sat. Pyrrha, entirely naked, with her armor and under-suit carefully laid aside, was prostrated at the foot of the dais, forehead on the ground.

“Please forgive me for my earlier impertinence, Mistress. I allowed my impatience and my desire for you to override obedience and good sense. I thank you for taking mercy on me and permitting me your touch despite my trespass.” She said the moment I was in earshot, and I raised an eyebrow in interest, small smile shifting into a please smirk.

“Let it never be said that I am without mercy and generosity for those who serve me well. And you will serve me well, won’t you Pyrrha?” I responded. The question was rhetorical, of course, and would have been even without all the Catalogue enhancements that made it so, but the redhead was none the less eager to assure me that she would be one of the most loyal, most dedicated, most stalwart servants I could ever hope for.

I believed her.

Moving past her while banishing my armor in a swirl of aether, I sat down on my throne and took a moment to observe her supplicant form, which had shifted as I passed so that she was still bowing in my direction. I loved that sight, and I couldn’t help but lick my suddenly dry lips at the vision I had of countless more in the same position as my Huntress.

“You may stand.” I said after a moment, and Pyrrha rose with all the lithe, trained grace of her profession, though she did not approach immediately, instead waiting dutifully for further instructions. I said nothing, merely extending a slender leg and deceptively delicate-looking foot in her direction. Taking the gesture as the command that it was, she hastened up the dais and fell to her knees once more, gently taking the foot in hand and bowing over it, soft lips reverently pressing against it as she paid homage. Enjoying the sense of power that was filling me, the arousal the was surging at the sight of such submission, I used that same foot to tilt her face up until our eyes met. “Are you ready to service me, sweet Pyrrha?”

“Ever and always, Mistress.” She murmured breathlessly, and I admired the flush on her cheeks and a lustful gleam in her eyes. I responded by retracting my foot and spreading my legs, revealing the soaked and matted strip of hair that led to my pussy. Her eyes locked onto my folds, her tongue darting out to caress her lips, and I didn’t even try to restrain the shudder of anticipation of her tongue doing the same to mine. I beckoned her closer and she crawled forward on her hands and knees. I inhaled deeply, a rumble of satisfaction echoing in my chest as the scent of her arousal filled my lungs. She smelled incredible, like spring and cinnamon, spice and dew together. I held out my hand, offering it to her as if she was a dog, and she nuzzled into it with a sigh of happiness before I began to coax her forward, fingers gripping the base of her ponytail as I pulled her face first into my crotch.

She needed no further instruction, setting about the task of eating me out with gusto and glee, and I moaned in satisfaction and let me head loll back onto the headrest of my throne as her tongue began to work my folds, occasionally dipping into my leaking hole. Mesmera had, it seemed, taken to my subconscious desire for her to be as skilled with her mouth as she was submissive and masochistic quite seriously, because there was none of the unsurety or awkward fumbling that might have otherwise occurred.

My free hand, the one not buried in Pyrrha’s hair, began palming my breasts, squeezing them and occasionally tweaking or flicking the pebble-hard nipples that topped them. That extra bit of stimulation made something already enjoyable even more so, and my moaning increased in pitch and frequency as I shifted my legs to partially wrap around Pyrrha’s shoulders and torso, holding her close as I ran my fingers through her hair.

“Such a good girl. You’re such a good girl, Pyrrha.” I half-murmured, half-gasped, sighing lightly as the praise caused her to redouble her efforts, and I couldn’t resist a breathy giggle. “Ah, so desperate, so eager to please. What a treasure you are, working so hard to make me happy. I’m going to cum all over your face, Pyrrha, and then I’m going to fuck you until you’re a drooling, dripping mess~!”

She moaned her approval of the idea into my cunt, and the next several minutes were filled with our symphony of sin, the tension building and building, like a fiery, coiled spring behind my stomach, before it finally snapped. I came, fluid spraying out of me to fill Pyrrha’s mouth and coat her mouth and chin, much to the redhead’s delight, her efforts at gathering it all and coaxing more from me stretching out the orgasm almost to the point where it would have been uncomfortable for a mortal woman.

“Good girl, now suck on my clit. Focus on my clit!” I was able to give the order with some semblance of coherency, thank God, and she obeyed promptly, focusing all of her attentions onto the throbbing nub of nerves, sucking hard, and I pressed a mental button within the depths of my mind. My clit began to thicken and lengthen in her mouth, slowly and steadily turning from clit to cock. She gave a muffled hum of surprise, the vibrations giving me a new series of delightful sensations, but dutifully continued her efforts, taking the growing shaft deeper and deeper into her mouth until I was starting to slide into her throat with every bob of her head. I could easily cum like this, paint her throat and coat her stomach in cum like I had her face, but that’s not what I was interested in right now, and I yanked her off of my cock as soon as it finished growing. Pulling her face up to mine using my grip on her hair, I admire her hazy eyes, cum-and-drool covered face, and the pounding pulse I could feel in her throat.

My fangs lengthened in my mouth, my thirst almost as powerful as my lust, but I resisted the urge to sink the elongated canines into her throat quite so early in our fun. That could come later.

Rising to my feet, I turned and tossed Pyrrha onto my throne. She caught herself on the arms, with a cry of surprise and excitement, breasts swaying and ass raised high with splayed legs. I gave her no time to recover or adjust her position, stepping up behind her, lining my swollen length up with her weeping folds, and thrusting from tip to base in a single movement. She threw her head back and howled in mingled pain and bliss as she went from desperately empty to overwhelmingly full in a single instant, her hands gripping the arms of my throne tight as I gave her a heartbeat to adjust to my intrusion, leaning forward to press myself against her back and scrape my fangs teasingly along her pulsing carotid.

Much to my surprise, and my arousal, Pyrrha seemed uninterested in my generous display of patience, trying to begin moving along my length, turning her head to press her throat to my fangs hard enough that they drew blood.

“You filthy slut, trying to fuck yourself without permission, and while I was generously giving you time to get used to me!” I sneered into her ear, one hand wrapping around her throat and squeezing it tight enough to turn her moans and gasps rather raspier than they had been at the start. Of course, that only seemed to excite her more, her internal muscles squeezing me with a rhythmic pattern that had to be deliberate. I had always heard that fit, well-trained girls could do that. It seemed that it was true. “Such a whore.”

“No mistress, not a whore. Never a whore. Your slut, your slave, your devoted servant, but never a whore. What I do, I do out of my love and adoration for you, never for money or personal benefit.” Pyrrha told me as firmly as she could, given the state she was in, and I felt a swell of joy at her words. I had no idea how to respond verbally to such a declaration, so I settled for pulling her head around so I could give her a loving kiss, one she eagerly accepted and reciprocated.

“Hold on tight, baby girl. I’m going to give you the ride of your life.” I murmured my sinful promise, nibbling on the curve of her ear as she adjusted her stance and grip. She clenched around me again after a moment, and I took that as my cue to get started, and start I did.

I started slowly, withdrawing until my glans were at the very edge of her entrance before pushing back in, steady and relentless but nowhere near as quickly or as hard as either of us were capable of taking. Pyrrha didn’t seem unhappy, only eager for more, as she whined and wiggled and attempted to press back against me every time I was on the out-swing of the pattern, though she never really succeeded thanks to the tight grip I had on her hip.

Then I accelerated, wrapping her ponytail around my free hand and thrusting harder and faster, the hand holding her hip slapping what of her ass I could reach when my hips weren’t pressed against it.

“Yes! Mistress! Fuck me harder, fuck your Pyrrha until she can’t walk! Fuck me until I’m fucking bloated with your cum!” she cried out encouragingly, holding onto the throne for dear life as I ravaged her, her sheath clenching around me as a spray of fluid struck my thighs. Her first orgasm of the session, brought about by nothing more than voicing her desires. “Fuck me and spank me and hurt me and love me! I want everyone who looks at me to know what you did to me! Every time I limp when I walk, every time they see a bruise, every time I wince when I sit down! I want them to smell your cum, I want them to walk past and know that some big-cocked queen used me and abused me!”

I growled in agreement, positive that my eyes were a bright, shining ruby as I sank deeper into my lust, my bestial instincts insisting at volume that I breed the girl beneath me, swell her womb with cum until my seed is sewn, to put my baby into her belly. But no, I wouldn’t -couldn’t- do that yet. There was too much to do, yet, to much that might require Pyrrha and Joan fighting apart from me, and I would not have her doing so pregnant.

The sounds and scents of sex were everywhere now, a thick and powerful perfume of love and lust, filling my head and my heart. My right hand, it’s fingers now tipped in nails that could more accurately be called claws, raked her back, leaving scratch marks all across her pale, previously-unblemished skin.

“Gonna pack you full of cum. Gonna practice for the day I fuck a baby into you.” I told her fiercely, yanking her head back and getting a squeal of delight from her, as I felt myself approaching my peak again. “Gonna make sure every youkai knows you’re my bitch, gonna make sure every human who pays attention knows I’ve got the woman they all want in my bed.”

I pulled out, deft hand flipping her over so that we were chest-to-chest, slamming back into her before she had the chance to complain about my absence. Her arms wrapped around me, her head tilted back as she moaned and cried and babbled endless streams of praise for my prowess.

My thirst could no longer be denied, and I struck, fangs sinking into her throat, piercing her smooth skin and the pulsing artery beneath it. Her flavour exploded onto my tongue, like cinnamon and spring, and she came again with a scream that probably should had deafened me if not for my more-than-mortal nature. Her taste and the tight, rippling clenches of her sex around me pushed me over the edge, and I buried myself all the way to the entrance of her womb as I came, flooding it with cum even as her blood flooded my mouth. I turned, stumbling slightly, and sat down on my throne, still buried inside of her, still coaxing more crimson liquid with gentle suckles that Pyrrha certainly seemed to enjoy.

Slowly, our orgasms tapered off and my fangs slid free, tongue swiping the puncture marks to gather up the small red streaks around them, even as Pyrrha slumped against me. She buried her face in my neck, breathing heavily and shaking slightly from emotions and endorphins as the last weak pulses of bliss went through us both, and I cradled her close, gently stroking her hip.

“Good girl, Pyrrha. You were so good for me, I love you so much.” I murmured as we basked in the glow, aware that while the session might not have been the most taxing to her compared to some of the things I had planned, aftercare was still important. Besides, I loved a good post-coital cuddle as much as the next person, and this felt good.

“I love you too, Mistress. Please, don’t ever let me go or leave me behind. Even when you’ve knocked me up, even if I can’t fight at your side, don’t leave me behind.” She begged softly, sounding painfully vulnerable, and I swallowed heavily. It seemed Mesmera hadn’t seen fit to remove some of Pyrrha’s emotional hang-ups, probably to encourage and satisfy my protective instincts.

“Never. You’re my bride, I would never abandon or forsake you.” I promised, giving her a gentle kiss, one she accepted happily before cuddling up even closer. Time passed, the two of us simply enjoying our closeness and the sensations of our still-joined sexes occasionally moving together, and after what could have been hours (but was more likely tens of minutes at most) Joan returned.

“My Lady, a girl has appeared from the well outside. She is approaching the temple even now.” My Saint told me, and I opened my eyes (when had I closed them?) and regarded her for a moment. She was stoic, ignoring our appearance and the scents that filled the throne room like a fog, and I nodded.

“Pyrrha, I want you cleaning me up with that pretty mouth of yours when Kagome arrives. Joan, you will stand at my right hand.” I ordered, slapping Pyrrha’s ass as a broad grin spread across my face. “It’s time to start saving the world.”

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