Chapter 202: Breaking the Exorcist II...
"Ohhh fvccckkkk..." Ayame gasped, her eyes flying open wide with shock and raw, electric bliss.
She was incredibly tight, her muscles clamping down on his intruding finger with a vice-like grip that bordered on painful for her.
He hit her unbroken hymen and paused, letting her feel the pressure, the promise of what was coming, while his thumb kept working her clit in lazy, torturous strokes.
"It’s so tight," Akira murmured, adding a second finger and slowly scissoring them apart to stretch her, feeling her inner walls flutter and squeeze around him like she was trying to pull him deeper.
More of her shimmering arousal gushed out around his knuckles, coating his hand and dripping down to ruin the sheets even further. "You’ve been saving this your whole life, haven’t you? This greedy little virgin cunt, untouched and aching."
"Yes," she sobbed, her hips rocking instinctively against his hand, chasing the fullness she suddenly couldn’t live without.
Her voice sounded hoarse and rough from guilt and lust. Every word was filled with the sweet agony of her surrendering.
"Who were you saving it for?"
"No one! For the Order! For my duty!"
"Wrong answer," Akira said, pushing his fingers slightly deeper, stretching her painfully but perfectly, curling them just right to brush against that hidden spot inside her that made her vision spark white. "Try again. Who were you saving this tight little pussy for?"
"I don’t know!" she wailed, her body thrashing beneath him as fresh waves of pleasure-pain tore through her.
Akira pulled his fingers out with a wet squelch, leaving her empty and clenching around nothing.
"No!" Ayame shrieked, instantly missing the fullness, her hips lifting off the bed in a desperate, shameless attempt to follow his hand. "Put them back! Please, put them back! I need it... I need you inside me!"
"Who were you saving it for, Ayame?" Akira repeated in a cold and authoritative voice, hovering just out of reach while his thumb kept torturing her clit with feather-light strokes.
Ayame stared up at him as her religious zealotry finally snapped under the crushing weight of her own biology and his demonic influence. The ’Fallen Angel’ had finally broken.
"For you!" she screamed, tears streaming down her flushed cheeks. "I was saving it for you, Master!"
"Good girl," Akira praised, a dark smile spreading across his face.
He rewarded her broken confession by slamming both fingers back into her dripping heat with one brutal thrust, burying them to the knuckle.
Ayame screamed loudly in raw, sinful relief as her inner walls squeezed tightly around his fingers like a starving mouth.
The obscene wet squelch of her juices echoed between them, louder now, thicker, as if her body was weeping in gratitude.
Akira didn’t ease her in; he fucked her with them immediately, hard and deep, curling and stroking that spongy sweet spot inside her with merciless precision.
Each thrust made her tits bounce, her nipples still glistening from his earlier attention, and her back arched so violently the mattress creaked beneath them.
"F-fuck... Master!" she choked out, the word tasting like blasphemy on her tongue and sending fresh sparks of corrupted pleasure straight to her core.
Her hips jerked up to meet every plunge, chasing the stretch, the burn, the filthy fullness she had denied herself for years of holy vows.
The pink shimmer of her corrupted holy energy glowed brighter between her spread thighs, coating his fingers in slick, glowing strands that dripped down to pool beneath her ass.
The scent of her... sweet musk mixed with ozone and sin, grew heavier, intoxicating him as he watched her lose herself completely.
"That’s it," he growled. "Feel how your pure little exorcist cunt sucks me in? Greedy. Desperate. You were never meant for the Order, Ayame. You were made to be ruined like this." He added a third finger without warning, stretching her wider, scissoring ruthlessly while his thumb ground tight circles over her swollen clit.
Her inner thighs trembled uncontrollably, the hypersensitive skin there flushed dark pink. Every time he dragged his fingers out, her pussy lips clung to him before he slammed back in harder.
Ayame’s head thrashed side to side, tears pouring down her temples and soaking into her tangled black hair. "It’s too much... oh God, it’s too good... I’m going to... Master, I’m going to...!" Her voice cracked into a high, broken keen as the first orgasm ripped through her like lightning.
Her walls spasmed violently around his fingers, gushing hot, shimmering slickness that sprayed across his wrist and soaked the sheets in a wet, glistening mess.
She squirted for the first time in her life, body convulsing, hips bucking wildly as wave after wave crashed over her.
The pleasure was so intense it bordered on pain, her untouched nerves short-circuiting in ecstasy while her mind fractured under the weight of decades of repressed desire finally unleashed.
Akira didn’t stop.
He kept pumping through her climax, drawing it out until she was sobbing and twitching, oversensitive and still clenching greedily.
"One more," he commanded. "Cum again for your Master. Show me how thoroughly I’ve broken my holy little whore."
He curled his fingers harder, stroking that spot faster, thumb flicking her clit in rapid, relentless strokes.
Ayame wailed as a second, even stronger orgasm tore through her almost immediately. Her legs shook uncontrollably, heels digging into the mattress, and another flood of her glowing arousal squirted out around his hand, drenching his forearm and the bed beneath her.
Only when she was a whimpering, trembling wreck did he finally slide his fingers free with a long, lewd pop.
Ayame whimpered at the sudden emptiness, her ruined pussy clenching on nothing, visibly pulsing and leaking a steady stream of her juices.
But Akira was already moving, sliding down her body with predatory grace.
He hooked his hands behind her knees, pressing deliberately into those secret sensitive spots the Lust Scan had revealed, and shoved her legs wide open, folding her nearly in half.
The position left her completely exposed, her glistening, swollen folds spread out for him, clit throbbing visibly, entrance still fluttering from the aftershocks.
He lowered his head and dragged his tongue in one long, slow, filthy stripe from her dripping hole all the way up to her clit.
Ayame’s entire body jolted as if she’d been electrocuted, a strangled cry ripping from her throat.
"Master... ahh! what are you... oh fuck!"
The wet heat of his mouth was overwhelming after the intense fingering. He licked her like a man starved, broad, flat strokes that gathered every drop of her shimmering nectar, savoring the sweet, corrupted taste that exploded across his tongue.
Then he sealed his lips around her swollen clit and sucked hard, tongue flicking rapidly against the sensitive bundle of nerves.
Ayame screamed, hands flying down to fist desperately in his hair, pulling him harder against her pussy even as fresh tears of overwhelming pleasure streamed down her face.
"It’s too much... your tongue... Master, please... don’t stop... please ruin me more!"
Her hips rolled shamelessly against his face, grinding her dripping cunt against his mouth like the desperate fallen angel she now was. Akira groaned into her folds, the vibration sending fresh sparks through her core.
He thrust his tongue straight into her tight hole, fucking her with it in deep, wet strokes while his nose rubbed perfectly against her clit. The obscene sounds: wet slurping, her broken moans, the slick slide of her juices, filled the room.
He pulled back just enough to growl against her soaked flesh, "Your Order can’t give you this, can they? Say it. Tell me who this cunt belongs to now."
Then he dove back in, sucking her clit between his lips while shoving two fingers back inside her, curling them viciously against her g-spot. Ayame’s thighs clamped around his head like a vice, trembling violently as another orgasm built at terrifying speed.
"It’s yours!" she wailed. "My cunt is yours, Master! I renounce it... all of it... my vows, my faith... fuck the Order... fuck everything... only you! Only your mouth, your fingers, your cock... please!" The words tumbled out like a prayer twisted into the most delicious blasphemy, each syllable pushing her closer to the edge.
Akira doubled down, sucking harder, fingers pumping faster, tongue lashing her clit in tight, merciless circles.
Ayame’s third climax hit like a tidal wave. She came with a silent scream at first, mouth open wide, body locking rigid as her pussy gushed directly into his mouth.
He drank every drop greedily, tongue never stopping, milking her through the shattering orgasm until she was convulsing, squirting again in weak, pulsing spurts that coated his chin and dripped down his neck.
Her thighs shook around his ears, nails scraping his scalp as she held him there, grinding through the overwhelming pleasure until she was nothing but a sobbing, twitching, ruined mess beneath him.
Only when her cries turned to exhausted, whimpering pleas did Akira finally lift his head, lips and chin shining with her essence.
He looked up the length of her sweat-slicked, trembling body... breasts heaving, nipples diamond-hard, face flushed crimson with tears and bliss, and smiled that same dark, victorious smile.
"You’re mine now, Ayame," he murmured in a lust-filled voice thick as he crawled back up her body, letting her taste herself on his lips in a filthy, claiming kiss. "And we’re only just getting started."
