I woke up alone again, sprawled across the massive bed in a tangle of sweat-soaked sheets. My body ached in places I didn't know could ache—deep in my muscles, in my balls, even in the base of my cock, like I'd been wrung out and left to dry. The air still reeked of sex: the sharp tang of cum, the sweeter musk of multiple cunts, and that ever-present floral haze that seemed to seep from the walls themselves.
I sat up, wincing. My skin was sticky, marked with dried smears of white where the First Circle had painted me like their personal canvas. I wiped at a streak on my thigh—my own cum, mixed with theirs—and felt a surge of heat in my chest. Not arousal. Anger.
What the fuck was this? They'd dragged me here—wherever "here" was—without asking, turned me into some kind of magical fuck-toy, milked me dry in that bath like I was nothing more than a stud bull. Morgana had ridden me like a queen claiming tribute. The First Circle had pinned me down, fed me my own loads, whispered filth while they emptied my balls until I begged. Used. That's what I was. A tool to "renew" their world. No choice, no say. Just cock and cum on demand.
I clenched my fists, feeling a strange tingle in my veins—like electricity humming under my skin. I stood, naked and furious, pacing the room. The mirror caught my eye again. I looked... stronger. Not just the enhanced vitality from before, but something more. My arms rippled with new definition, veins standing out like cords. I flexed, and the air around my hand shimmered faintly, like heat off pavement.
What the hell?
I focused on that tingle, pushed at it mentally—and a small orb of light flickered to life in my palm. Golden, warm, pulsing like a heartbeat. I stared, mouth open. This... this was from them. From cumming inside Morgana, from flooding the First Circle. Their magic, seeping into me with every orgasm, every load I pumped into their greedy holes. Power. Real power.
A grin split my face despite the anger. Me—Alex, the 28-year-old virgin loser who'd jerked off to pixelated porn in his crappy apartment, too awkward to even ask a girl out—now gifted with magic from fucking sorceresses or whatever it is they are. I could feel it building: strength, endurance, maybe even control over... something. And there were more to come? Nine more sorceresses, each one ready to spread for me, to take my seed and give me more?
Fuck being pissed. Or... no, I was still pissed. But now I had a plan. If they wanted to use me, fine. I'd use them right back. Take what I wanted, when I wanted. Starting now.
The door clicked open. Not the grand entrance for the Second Circle—no, they weren't due until midday, or so Veyra had whispered before leaving. This was Elara, the golden-haired attendant from before, slipping in with a fresh tray of food and oils. She wore that same sheer white robe, her freckled tits straining against the fabric, nipples hard points begging for attention.
She froze when she saw me standing there, cock already twitching to life at the sight of her curves.
"Chosen," she said softly, setting the tray down. "I brought—"
I didn't let her finish. The power surged in me—unbidden, instinctive. I crossed the room in two strides, faster than I should've been able to, and grabbed her wrist. She gasped, eyes wide, but I saw the flicker: surprise, not fear. Arousal?
"You think you can just use me?" I growled, spinning her around and shoving her against the wall. The tray clattered to the floor, fruits rolling. "Pin me down, milk my cock like I'm your fucking property?"
She whimpered, but her hips pressed back against me, grinding her ass against my hardening shaft. "Chosen... Alex... we serve the ritual—"
"Bullshit." I yanked her robe open, exposing those perfect, freckled breasts. I squeezed one roughly, pinching the nipple until she moaned. "You all get off on it. Treating me like a toy. Well, now it's my turn."
I shoved her down to her knees, fisting her golden curls. She looked up at me, lips parted, cheeks flushed. No resistance. Just hunger.
"Open your mouth, slut," I snarled, the words feeling foreign but right. The power hummed louder in my veins, making my cock throb like a live wire.
She did, tongue out, eyes locked on mine.
I slapped the head of my dick against her tongue—once, twice—then thrust in deep. She gagged, but her hands came up to grip my thighs, pulling me closer. Fuck, she was wet for this. I could smell it, that floral-feminine musk sharpening with her arousal.
"That's it," I groaned, fucking her face with short, brutal strokes. "Choke on it. You wanted my cum? Take it straight down your throat."
Saliva dripped from her chin, coating my balls as they slapped against her. She hummed around me, vibrations shooting straight to my core. I felt the magic flare—my cock swelling thicker in her mouth, veins pulsing with that golden light.
She moaned louder, one hand dipping between her thighs to rub her clit furiously.
"No," I snapped, pulling out with a wet pop. Strings of spit connected us. "You don't get to cum yet. Not until I say."
I hauled her up, bent her over the bed, and kicked her legs apart. Her cunt was soaked, pink and puffy, dripping down her thighs. I rubbed the head of my cock through her folds, teasing her clit, making her buck.
"Please," she begged, voice muffled in the sheets. "Fuck me, Chosen. Rape my little pussy. Make it yours."
The word—rape—sent a dark thrill through me. Fantasy, sure, but hearing her beg for it? I slammed in to the hilt in one thrust.
She screamed—pleasure, not pain—her walls clenching like a vice.
"Fuck, you're tight," I grunted, pounding into her without mercy. The bed shook. "This what you wanted? My cock owning you?"
"Yes!" she wailed, pushing back to meet every slam. "Use me! Breed me like the whore I am!"
I reached around, fingers finding her clit—rubbing hard, pinching. My other hand wrapped around her throat, squeezing just enough to make her gasp.
The power built with every thrust. I could feel it drawing from her, feeding back into me. Stronger. Hotter.
"Cum on my cock," I ordered. "Flood me, you dirty slut."
She did—shuddering, squirting around me, soaking my balls and the sheets. The sight pushed me over.
I pulled out at the last second, stroking furiously. "On your knees. Now."
She spun, mouth open, tongue out.
I exploded—rope after thick rope painting her face, her tits, her open mouth. Cum dripped from her eyelashes, pooled in her cleavage. She scooped a glob from her cheek and sucked it clean, moaning like it was nectar.
"God," she whispered, rubbing the rest into her skin. "So much... so powerful..."
I stood over her, chest heaving, cock still hard and glistening with her juices. The anger had ebbed, replaced by a heady rush. I'd taken control. And she fucking loved it.
But voices echoed from the hall—the Second Circle approaching.
Elara licked her lips, eyes gleaming. "They'll be here soon. And they're... hungrier than we were."
I smirked, the magic thrumming in my veins. Let them come. I was ready to claim them all.