Chapter 536: Chapter 536- Painful Molding
Jacob’s scream.
From three meters away. Face-down in the dirt. Held by four women. His eyes wide and wet and watching his grandmother’s body convulse around twelve inches of dragon cock in her anal, her face in the dirt, her tits swinging, her mouth open in a scream that had no end.
"GRANDMA— NO— PLEASE— STOP— DON’T—"
Edda could not hear him.
Not clearly. The scream in her own throat was too loud, the pain too total, the sensation of twelve inches of crimson dragon cock in her previously virgin anal overwhelming every other input her nervous system was attempting to receive.
She screamed.
"KKKKHAAAAAAANNGHHHHHH~~~~~~~AAAAAAAANGHHHHHH~~~~~~~"
The sound left her and went into the forest and came back and left again, a continuous, unbroken, harmonically complex wail that was the sound of a woman being literally torn apart.
Raven pulled back.
The withdrawal was the seven inches out of his 12 inches cock — the dragging, tearing, wet pull of him exiting the torn ring, the walls gripping him with the involuntary, desperate clench of tissue that had just been opened by force and was trying to hold onto the thing that had opened it.
Her ass clapped back.
The cheeks meeting with the wet, heavy sound of flesh returning to position after being spread, the ring twitching, open, glistening, the evidence of the tearing visible in the moonlight.
She gasped.
The first breath between screams — her diaphragm convulsing, her chest heaving against the grass, her tits dragging through the dirt with the motion.
He drove forward.
PHAAAAACK—
"AAAAAAAAANGHHHHHH~~~~~~~~~~!!!!!!~~~~~~~~"
Seven inches of fire and iron this time as her anal tightness fought his pounding. The stretch was impossible.
Her body jerked forward.
Her face pressed deeper into the grass. Her tits swung forward again. Her hands clawed the ground. Her toes curled in the grass behind her.
PAH PAH PHAAAAACK—
"KYAAAAANGHH~!! AAAAAANGHH~!! KKKKHAAAAANNGHH~!!"
He was fucking her anal.
The full, driving, relentless rhythm of a man using a woman’s most protected entrance with the same commitment he had used her others — the hips snapping forward, the cock driving into the torn ring, the seven inches pressing and retreating and pressing again, the slap of his hips against her ass cheeks producing the wet, heavy, flesh-on-flesh sound of complete penetration.
Jacob watched.
Held down. Face in the dirt. His eyes streaming. His mouth open. His voice gone — not from screaming, but from the particular silence that comes from watching something that cannot be processed.
His grandmother.
The woman who had stepped into dragon fire for him.
The woman who had given him the badge.
The woman who had sent him to become a knight.
Face-down in the grass. Her tits swinging in the dirt. Her anal being fucked by a demon. Her voice producing sounds that had no words in them.
And he could do nothing.
Marla’s hand held his head down.
Her grip in his hair. Her voice at his ear — not cruel, not kind, simply factual:
"Watch," she said. "Only watch."
PAH PAH PHAAAAACK—
"AAAAAAANGHHH~!! HNGHHH~!! KKKKHAAAAANNGHH~!!"
Edda’s body was pink.
Not flushed. Pink — the deep, total, skin-level flush of a body that has been pushed past every limit and is now running on pure adrenaline and pure pain and pure, overwhelming, completely unmanageable sensation.
Her abs were visible.
Contracting with each thrust. The dense, carved, fifty-year muscle of her stomach rippling with each impact, the ridges of it pressing against her skin as her body tried to brace against what was being done to it.
Her back was arched.
The full, muscular, completely surrendered curve of it — her shoulders pressed down, her hips lifted, her ass presented, the white hair of her pussy visible below the cleft where the cock was driving.
"Please—" The word came out of her between screams. "Please— Dragon Lord— hah— please— hah— my grandson— hah— do not— hah— hurt him— hah— I will— hah— I will do— hah— anything— hah—"
PHAAAAACK—
"AAAAAAAAANGHHHHHH~~~~~~~~~~!!!!!!~~~~~~~~"
He did not slow.
He did not respond.
He simply fucked her — the full, relentless, completely committed rhythm of a demon who has been given what he asked for and is now using it with the absolute thoroughness of someone who does not waste opportunities.
PAH PAH PHACK PHACK PHAAAAACK—
"KYAAAAANGHH~!! AAAAAANGHH~!! HNGHHH~!! KKKKHAAAAANNGHH~!! AAAAAAANGHH~!!"
The sound of flesh on flesh.
The sound of her ass meeting his hips.
The sound of her tits swinging into the dirt.
The sound of her voice breaking against the waterfall and the trees and the moonlight.
And Jacob.
Watching.
Held down.
His tears in the dirt.
His grandmother’s screams in his ears.
The last memory of her dying in fire replaced by this — the living, screaming, being-destroyed reality of her dying in a different kind of fire, three meters away from him, while he could do nothing but watch.
"Grandma," he whispered.
Not loud enough to hear.
Not loud enough to change anything.
Just the whisper of a young man who had watched her die once and was watching her be destroyed again and was learning, in the hardest way possible, that being a regressor did not mean being able to save everyone.
Edda screamed.
And screamed.
And screamed.
PAH PAH PHAAAAACK—
"AAAAAAAAANGHHHHHH~~~~~~~~~~!!!!!!~~~~~~~~"
Raven grabbed her wrists.
Both of them. His fingers closing around the wide, knuckled bones of her dragon-slayer arms and pulling them backward. He used her arms as handles. His hips started moving faster. The blurring, piston-driven rhythm of a demon who had decided to increase speed and was using the grip on her wrists as leverage to drive deeper.
SKHLRK—
"NGGHH~!! HAAH~!!"
Seven inches. Sometimes eight. The tightness of her anal was fighting him. The muscular, fifty-years-trained ring clenched around his shaft with the desperate, continuous grip of a body that had never been entered there and was trying to reject the intrusion.
He pulled her arms back harder.
The angle changed. Her shoulders pressed down. Her face ground deeper into the grass. Her tits dragged through the dirt with each thrust.
"It will hurt a bit," he said.
His voice was warm. Pleasant. The voice of a man warning a woman about the weather.
She screamed.
"Wait— hah— Dragon Lord— hah— do not— hah— it already— hah— HURTS— hah—"
PHACKK—
The slam was not flesh on flesh. It was a detonation. Twelve inches. The full, adjusted dragon cock drove through the torn ring with the absolute, total force of a demon who had decided to bury himself to the root.
The shockwave left his hips and traveled outward in a visible ring. The water at the pool’s edge threw itself backward. One meter of water hurled upward. It formed a wall of white spray that rose in a perfect arc before collapsing back down.
His balls hit her pussy.
The full, heavy, wet weight of them slammed against the white hair of her mound. The impact against her clit sent an electric shock up her spine. It met the pain from her anal and produced a sound that had no name.
"KKKKHAAAAAAANNGHHHHH~~~~~~~~~~~!!!!!!~~~~~~~~"
Her scream resonated. It left her body and hit the trees and returned and hit the water and returned again. It was a continuous, living thing that filled the clearing.
Tears did not form.
They were already running. They had been running for an hour. But now they stopped forming. Her eyes produced only the raw, dry, cracked sound of a woman who had cried out all her liquid and was screaming from the empty.
"It hurts," she cried.
"It hurts— it hurts— it hurts— Dragon Lord— it HURTS—"
