Настучать в бубен / Hit the tambourine: Глава 16_4

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Camrad_RIP 11.08.24 в 20:03

After putting the boy to bed, slowly assimilating her instructions, and at the same time relaxing the areas of the treated subtle body even more, letting her control deeper into his tender and young mind, she went to work. Surveying the village and the remnants of the battle. Gathering everything of value, including the famous “Poke-Poke-Stick”, a cutie Duz, for the mere loss of which she would have kissed Panna, and a bunch of humans and non-humans all along the length of Dantra would have dinged her as well. The mistress of the nest was not merely content, she was almost carried on the wings of happiness. There was no way out of her shameful captivity except by burning ashes, or by willingly allowing the scarlet leash to be thrown over her. Edward, as she gritted her teeth to admit, would have the strength for that; he was still older and more powerful. And she got out with a huge profit.

Camrad_RIP 15.08.24 в 17:51

The boy alone, a boy who could be called the second Apostate, even if he was a Shaman and not a Spatialist, was worth all the effort and danger. Let's add artifacts. Edward's favorite ritual kit. Nezhenka's rapier. And the simple moral satisfaction of being able to poke the toe of a boot into the remains of all three of the dead. Well, and also to be a little afraid for her well-being, if she happened to make a mistake. The boy wasn't just a talent. He was a talent already cut, lovingly honed, and his transition into a master was a matter of resources and time only. Resources that a young man who came out of nowhere with an academically trained language, an incredible baggage of knowledge and contracts tied to blood and spirit, the power of which Sylvia could not even imagine, did not have. But she had those resources, as well as experience in maneuvering through the filth of Dantmark's high society, and a desire to get a better foothold in that society. For example, at the expense of a handy master of shamanism, he has all the chances to become a handy magister with a huge retinue of powerful spirits and an obedient tongue.

Camrad_RIP 17.08.24 в 08:38

She didn't even think she was doing the boy a disservice. Dishonorable, perhaps, but certainly good for him. For he would simply ruin his talent if he were not killed by someone less grateful and noble than herself. Or be bewitched and chained by someone else who wouldn't be modest if she didn't take her chance. For a moment it even seemed to her that the mysterious fugitive villain that half of the world was looking for now, on the elves' tip-off, was in front of her. Alas, and probably fortunately, the alarm turned out to be false, and too many things did not coincide: not only schools of magic and the general impression, but also banal logic did not add up, did not merge into one river of scarlet drops. She could bathe her in the sunlight, but she could not imagine that this little boy had done what was attributed to the mysterious fugitive, nor could he be the one who had caused the commotion in Iyastar, where even rumors and stories had reached her, one more obscene than the other.

Camrad_RIP 17.08.24 в 08:45

She certainly wasn't going to make the boy a commonplace blood slave. No, that would have been incredibly stupid to ruin such a talent. It would be even more foolish to try to turn him by simply burning the source and spirit in the transformation, and it wasn't her method. No, she'd just set up an extremely strict and gentle control, just to bring Pann, if not to Dantmark, then to one of the temporary lairs, where she could work on him properly. Smudge the memories, distort the angles of their communication, then slowly and quietly, taking advantage of the blood resonance, bind him to herself properly. Maintaining resonance with more than one target was a challenge, but for the sake of such a prize as a pet Master, or even a Magister in the long run, she was ready to weaken or drop control of all her puppets at once. She tried to make this control invisible, so in the future, even if she lost the leash, her victim would not be able to say that his decisions did not belong to him.

Camrad_RIP 17.08.24 в 08:52

Oh, how complicated everything was, how unpleasant it was with this Great Search. It wasn't even about the problems with hunters and priests, it wasn't the first time they'd all been searched for, it wasn't the first time they'd gone to the bottom, lying there for a while. The point is that the true Greats, the Ancient Patriarchs, who had long ago settled in the dead lands of the North, have raised their heads climbing out of their crypts. And when the order to find and report something came from such figures, the owners of small nests like her and Edward, and anyone else, would start to move. As it seemed to Sylvia, though, the dead kings and ancient blood-blessed were not looking for the mysterious villain, but were trying to level the damage to their nets. As one blessed by blood and night, she had a pretty good grasp of the subject, knowing full well how powerfully the hunters, priests, and mages who smelled an opportunity had stepped on the tails of the ancient serpents. Not to destroy the great enemies personally, but to disrupt supply lines, uncover networks of agents, and thin out the working groups that had been sent into the lands of the living for centuries.

Camrad_RIP 17.08.24 в 10:02

She, who was familiar, practical, and always ready to please and negotiate, was handled gently. They'd asked a few questions, though without the possibility of lying, and then turned away, pretending not to see her at all, giving her an approximate time frame for when she could return. Edward, she was ecstatic that he was gone, that his eternity was over, was more closely tied to the North. He shared their dominant teachings and their support. Perhaps that was why he'd flashed by, dying without ever becoming a full initiate of the Lords, though he'd dreamed so much of it, with some chance of ascending to their ranks as one of their equals. She understood little and was told even less, but apparently one of the Scarlet Lords had been a guest in his nest. He'd been, but he'd gotten away without being seen, leaving traces at most. If there had been a full-blown fight with an Ancient... no, word would have gotten out very quickly.

Camrad_RIP 15.08.24 в 17:57

Sylvia washed herself again in the now cold water, habitually ignoring the discomfort. The children of the night feel both touch and cold, and pain with mutilation, but they can decide for themselves how fully. Nature is both alive and dead, allowing them to choose which to be - emotionless dead, or enjoying the softness of silk and the taste of wine alive. There are ways to cheat this property, from the trivial silver nail in the heel to the prayers of the priests, to the same rituals, like de Harnbray's will-breaking craft. The cold water was like a breeze in comparison; indeed, she'd been in worse conditions.

Camrad_RIP 15.08.24 в 17:59

Heat involuntarily ran through her body, and she licked her lips, feeling a mixture of satisfaction and shame at her weakness. She had no idea who his grandfather was, or whether he was his grandfather, Pann, or what rituals their family practiced, but there was something inexplicably appealing about the boy's seed. For one thing, it replenished strength far more abundantly than even blood, the blood of a full-fledged wizard! And this at such an insignificant volume! Secondly, she was literally drawn to him, she even checked herself for extraneous influences, to get caught up in something like this, pulling off exactly the same thing, would be deadly ironic. She finds nothing. It was just full of life and power, blazing with it, attracting the bloodsucker like mosquitoes to the warmth of hot, naked human bodies.

Camrad_RIP 15.08.24 в 18:01

Well, it's all small things, a matter of the future, as well as a normal interrogation of the boy, with many overlapping questions, especially concerning his parents. She didn't believe he'd just taken off like that and “left alone in the world,” nor would those who could train such a boy die suddenly and without a clue. The last thing she wanted was for this hypothetical kin to come after her, explaining in the sign language of the tribes of the ebony limit who she was and where she needed to go, having previously swam in the molten and sanctified silver. It would be a pity, of course, to let the boy go, erasing his memory, a very useful chance he represented, and generous and kind he was ... too generous and kind. She didn't want Pann to die like a dog from his inexperience, not only that because he, without her prodding, had given her all his trophies, simply seeing no use for them and giving them to someone who would need them. And to spare her, having learned that she was not one of the bloody oath-breakers of the mad beast or old serpent's teachings, he had also decided practically on his own. She had only a little bit pushed. Yes, such kindness and compassion need to be warmed, petted, and not let go. A couple of months of careful and careful handling, at the very least a year. Then she will remove her leash, leaving only its base, in case it needs to be intercepted. And the boy would not want to go anywhere, would not dare to say anything against her will, would do anything she said for the right to kneel before her pussy.

Camrad_RIP 17.08.24 в 10:09

Sylvia didn't like sex as such at all, she had enough of the tongues of a servant or one of the fledglings, and letting a man cum... There was a reason she disliked the whole issue of feeding on seed instead of blood. There had been months in her life when she had had to know true humiliation. There were no witnesses left from that disaster, no survivors, even the dead are silent now, and yet she still taught all her bed toys to enjoy the very fact of their tongues working on her tender flower, teaching them to never cum at all. And then, his strange effect of saturating bodily fluids with power, an insane amount of power, and even after she'd drunk him almost dry! Ugh, it makes her angry at herself for her weakness. Even the fear of pissing off someone who could provide his grandson with a contract with a great spirit goes away! After all, shamans are able to die not completely, just finally moving to the world of the underside. And the inhabitants of that world, as a rule, very much dislike the undead.

Camrad_RIP 17.08.24 в 13:50

As if it didn't turn out that Pann's forefather was watching the misadventures of his descendant and apprentice right now... Ooh, the old lecher. Smirking at her joke, she changed into a spare hunting suit, minimally damaged from the last battle. //"Edward de Harnbray and Ducirella Nezhenka, in one battle, without preparation, not yet twenty winters old, my human mother and bloody parent! No one will believe me if I tell anyone!" She would not tell anyone, of course, preferring to bury the secret, but still, but still. Now, if he somehow gets off the hook, what would she do? Kill him? She didn't want to, though she'd probably have to. Sylvia was no stranger to the feeling of gratitude, deliberately cultivating not the feeling itself, but an understanding of its usefulness, not hesitating to give help that cost her nothing to those who helped her. Not for free, but often at a discount. But she could hardly prove - well, without using a bloody bag on her mind - that the combination she had pulled off was just such help, saving a sweet boy from a cruel world.

Camrad_RIP 17.08.24 в 13:55

//“At the very least, I can always offer to blow him like a whore.” - She thought, which made her wonder at such a shameful and reminiscent of long ago traumas. - “Get on my knees, take him in my mouth and lips up and down, up and down, up and down, up and down.”

Camrad_RIP 15.08.24 в 18:03

With a slight surprise, she caught herself savoring the thought, and she didn't mind sucking her future faithful servant. He was licking her, just as she liked, trying so hard, caressing her bud with his lips, not even thinking of cumming, not even thinking to cum on the floor. Why shouldn't she finally turn this page of her life, overcoming this stupid shame? What did she care if it was blood from a vein or semen from a cock, as long as both brought her pleasure and strength? She ran her finger over her lips, again, again, and then began to suck her index finger, measuredly, softly, as if she were really caressing someone's dick. She knelt, her head back, her hair in a tight ponytail again, oh, it felt so good!

Camrad_RIP 17.08.24 в 14:06

Clenching her thighs tightly, putting pressure on the bud, she brings herself to a peak and cumming with a loud growl. No, a finger is too little, she sucks two, three, four fingers already, almost the whole palm, her thumb rubbing the tip of her nose, like a sweet bud growing on her face and, dripping blood, how good she feels. She is literally wriggling with ecstasy, her other hand goes into her pants, caressing her lower lips as well, almost mirroring what she does to her upper lips. For a moment she stops distinguishing between her nose and her bud, between her upper and lower lips, but she doesn't care, because it feels equally good on both sides. As if in a strange delirium, in an erotic obsession, she notes how she removes, or even tears off, the only normal set of clothes, exposing herself, exposing her whole self.

Camrad_RIP 17.08.24 в 14:07

Another orgasm hits Sylvia Malter, arching her, leaving her lying on the floor with her right arm covered in juices and her left arm covered in saliva. She doesn't breathe, she doesn't need the air, yet she jerks heavily from the orgasms she has experienced. Her gaze is drawn to a flickering light in the twilight of dawn, so dim that even her eyes, which she has carefully improved over many decades, can barely see it. But she tries, tries very hard, focuses all her strength and will on that light, thinks of nothing at all, only of looking at the light, not noticing how her juices and saliva-slippery palms begin to rub the pale nipples of her tits, tits, tits, tits, tits, tits, tits, tits, what nice tits, how good it felt to cum, watching the fire and rubbing her tits, tits, tits, without thinking, without understanding, without paying attention, knowing exactly that everything was fine, that she was in control of everything, everyone, everything, that any outcome was possible only by her own decision.

Camrad_RIP 17.08.24 в 14:10

Rolling her eyes in pleasure, Sylvia still sees that light, not noticing anything else, not hearing someone start walking nearby.

Camrad_RIP 15.08.24 в 18:03

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Camrad_RIP 11.08.24 в 20:03

A young man, completely naked, except for a very ominous wooden mask, very excited, calm, and businesslike, with a considerable skill that shows years and decades of practice, albeit a little alien, arranges around the bloodsucker, lying practically motionless, except for the fingers stroking and pinching her nipples, small bowls with aromatic herbal offerings, which slowly begin to smoke. The air is filled with the aroma of coriander and cloves, when the expensive and high-quality offerings, each of which would cost a fabulous sum in gold and a considerable sum in the currency of the System, if they were not provided free of charge by the System itself, catch fire, rise in smoke, and the smoke itself becomes the basis for the formation of a pseudo-body of a powerful spirit. The formless smoky something, a full-fledged elder spirit, rises from the underside, motionless and creepy, receiving commands from the shaman, and then takes those commands to fulfill.

Camrad_RIP 17.08.24 в 14:21

Smoke begins to billow into the nostrils and ears of the eye-rolling vampiress caressing her breasts while the shaman finished the first part of the call, sits down on the soft and clearly alien-looking mat, kneeling down and methodically jerking off, gazing at the naked body of his victim and Mistress. He holds himself on the verge of orgasm, barely touching himself, precisely and obediently doing her bidding. Meanwhile, his Mistress rises to her feet and gets into a crucifixion pose, spreading her arms wide and standing on the tips of her toes. For a moment her mouth opened unnaturally wide, and then a cloud of scarlet smoke flew out, carrying with it the colors of the vampire's consumed blood, taking some of her will with it and replacing it with what the shaman had indicated.

Camrad_RIP 17.08.24 в 14:23

The spirit spiraled, swirling the scarlet smoke into itself, and then back into the vampire's full-fledged mouth, spewing out of its ears, nostrils, eye sockets, and even its asshole, just plain smoke. Sylvia shrugged her shoulders in bewilderment, sitting down in the same place she'd gotten up from and stroking her lips with the pad of her index finger. The upper ones, but they seemed even a little more swollen, dark scarlet, and incredibly tantalizing, as if one smile could make her fall in love, and one kiss an unearthly bliss. Judging by the bloodsucker's reaction to her touches, that kiss would not only give bliss to someone else, but to herself as well.

Camrad_RIP 17.08.24 в 14:24

As she arched up in another orgasm, she smiled blissfully, her smile changing to one of smugness and a feeling of superiority. Covering her eyes, she ignores the boy quietly walking away, thinking about what exactly she's going to do with him. Previously always trying to avoid direct sex whenever possible, whether with servants, handlers, chicks, or anyone else, always favoring just someone's tongue on her lower lips, she is right now reevaluating her priorities and perspectives. New ideas arise in her head, and they seem obvious and clear and as true as possible, and also incredibly powerful, filling her with a sense of superiority, a pleasure in power that she has felt before, but not to this extent, not so clearly.

Camrad_RIP 17.08.24 в 14:25

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Camrad_RIP 11.08.24 в 20:03

Sylvia stretched her whole naked body with pleasure. She didn't need to warm up, she didn't need to exercise, she didn't need any of the people who had received the scarlet drop, but she often did little things like that to make herself seem a little more alive. And she felt incredibly alive, satisfied, successful, and in the center of the current of destiny. Bitter defeat and captivity had turned into victory and gain, pleasant acquisitions, and crazy prospects. Her body filled with strength and blood easily ignored the rays of the afternoon sun. She didn't even need to spend time and effort to cover the windows and breaches in the wall with cloth or magic. The power was bubbling inside her, demanding an outlet, demanding more power, and that made the last daughter of the long-dead Malter family feel a little drunk as if she were almost human again. Or drunk on the blood of a hallucinogen-addled orc shaman, though she felt more affected then.

Camrad_RIP 15.08.24 в 18:07

She shrugged her shoulders and remained naked, strolling into the room occupied by the boy, looking at the remnants of the costume she had torn in a fit of passion. He is lying in a slightly different position from the one she left him in, or even not lying at all, but sitting on the crib, but his gaze is just as blank, just as full of adoration, and his hand immediately begins to faintly stimulate the tense rod as soon as he sees her, naked and adorable. She thought of ordering him to slow down, taking advantage of the bloody bond that was surging through her, but at the last moment she gave up on that thought: he was completely submissive to her, she was in control, she didn't need to give any new commands, her power was unbreakable. These thoughts made her feel so good, as they rarely had before. Usually, on such occasions, she would call on one of the blood servants and enjoy their tongues, but now she wanted something different.

Camrad_RIP 17.08.24 в 14:31

As she approached her toy, she unceremoniously pulled the boy closer, covering his lips in a kiss, sealing them, dominating, dominating the way she wanted to. The thrust of her hands is carefully calibrated. She didn't want to break his bones by miscalculating her strength, just drop him on his back, ending up on top of him, and not stopping the kiss. And why did she even hate any form of carnal lovemaking so much? Well, yes, there had been those months of endless humiliation in her life, so wasn't it time to outgrow the old grudge? Isn't that her power, her limitless control over this boy here? She can kiss him, she can let him grope her body, she can do anything to him, even the most humiliating thing. For example, she can blow him. With the power of her lips and tongue to take his seed, to take it away and drink the life hidden in it! She could suck him, but in her case, it would not be a humiliation, but only another demonstration of her infinite power and grace, of the inviolability of her will, forged of steel and hardened in blood.

Camrad_RIP 18.08.24 в 10:49

Breaking the kiss, she made sure not to scratch the boy's lips, carefully and affectionately covering his neck, collarbones, chest, and belly with kisses, occasionally running her tongue over it, changing it again with touches of her divinely tender and so unexpectedly sensitive lips. Once opposite the groin, she does not swallow at once, no, she enjoys her power, every twitch of the rod powerless before her caress, every tremor of the young and lively body of her captive. Sylvia begins with gentle touches with the very tip of her tongue, kisses with her lips, and licks like a honeydew lick getting results very quickly. She is just licking her balls, enjoying her power over the powerless and submissive gifter when his body can't take it, and she doesn't stop him from reaching his discharge right on the satisfied face of the night girl. She covers her dark scarlet eyes, letting the thick, white and so sweet cream cover her satisfied face, smile, grin, sneer, mocking grin at the one she has tricked and bound.

Camrad_RIP 18.08.24 в 10:51

After allowing herself a few moments of tenderness as she continued to lick her captive's cock, running the tip of it over the white mask on her face, smearing it in a thin layer all over her face, she couldn't stand the tantalizing sensation of the power and magic-filled mass right on her skin, pulling away and beginning to collect the seed on her fingers, licking them and nearly reaching ecstasy in the process. And when she did cum, simultaneously from the realization of her superiority over the boy she'd humiliated, who'd watched helplessly as she sated herself on his seed, playing with it as she wished, and the satiating feeling of quenched thirst, she barely had the stamina to run a palm covered in a scarlet haze over her face. She cleans up the remnants of his eruption before her self-control fails her again, forcing her to pounce on the captive fool's cock again, this time swallowing it halfway down, caressing it with her lips, licking it, sometimes taking it down to rub it with her tongue along its length.

Camrad_RIP 18.08.24 в 10:59

Overwhelmed by her own power, she swallows him whole, pulling her mouth even wider, sealing even his scrotum with her lips, careful not to let her fangs out, pushing his dick right down her throat, taking advantage of the fact that she doesn't need to breathe. She looks up, meets the admiration and servitude in her toy's gaze, and enjoys that servitude for a few long seconds, the way he gently strokes her hair, unable to bring himself to press into her harder, to thrust his dick down her throat like some cheap whore. She smiles, as much as she can in this position, giving an approving throaty squelch, guiding his hands to the back of her head. She begins to contract her throat methodically and in a lascivious and frequent, ever-accelerating rhythm, squeezing the swallowed treat, trying again to make the victim of her charms cum, come, spill into her belly.

Camrad_RIP 18.08.24 в 11:00

The moment a new stream of scalding hot white mass flowed into her, she cummed once more, losing her rhythm and nearly coughing, still sucking, sucking, sucking as she'd never sucked before. A few drops mingled with her saliva, running down her chin before she swallowed the rest of it, pulling herself off the rod that felt so good to be on. She didn't need to breathe but wanted to moan from the experience, from how slick and sweet it felt to watch the strings of thick saliva binding her lips and her slave's loins. Giggling, laughing at her idea, she wipes her face, cleansing herself again with blood magic, pushes her victim onto his back again, and there she is, riding on top of him.

Camrad_RIP 15.08.24 в 18:05

It had been a long, long time since she had had to exercise like this. She had considered herself above bodily intimacy of this kind, only regularly pleasing herself with the tongues of her “lovers.” But now, now she realized her absolute power over Pann, her irresistible sweetness, and she wanted to humiliate him even more. To force him, against his will and according to her own will, to force him to pour his seed into her cunt, to fill the body dedicated to the bloody drop with the power of life and birth, taking that power, knowing exactly that she cannot generate life, that she is taking his seed from him, that she is taking it by force, at her will alone. She feels so good, so good that she can't help but moan loudly and lustfully, begging to be fucked, fucked, fucked, fucked, fucked, expressing herself like the river district girls, inwardly laughing at her mockery. Wasn't that irony, wasn't that the ultimate humiliation of the young man she had subjugated? To fuck him and moan like a whore, as if to tell the whole world that he had been broken, subjugated, bewitched, and now saddled not by a maiden of the night, not by the mistress of a full-fledged nest, but by an ordinary whore, spreading her legs for anyone, happily giving her ever-lustful holes to be fucked!

Camrad_RIP 18.08.24 в 14:38

She lost track of time. She lost track of reality, realizing that she was no longer riding the boy, but letting him fuck her from behind. She pressed her face into the old sheets of the worst quality she could find in this godforsaken place while he fucked her like some kind of animal, while she growled and wiggled in the same animal way, her whole body hungry for intimacy. It must be a humiliation for him to be bewitched by the movement of her buttocks, the tightness and tenderness of her pussy, the suppleness, and stiffness of her movements, such a pity that he could not even realize how deeply enslaved he was by her! With two hands grasping her buttocks, she spread them as wide as she could, opening herself to him, exposing her cunt, and the other hole throbbing with another orgasm. She was curious for a second if he would humiliate himself even more in his desire to please her if he would go to a new level of baseness and worship. And she just squealed with amusement, giggled like a silly little girl when he did just that, entering her ass it was so wonderful!

Camrad_RIP 18.08.24 в 14:43

An orgasm, another, mind-shattering pleasure. A change of position. She is put on her back, fucked again, like a motionless and relaxed doll, like a drunken girl, like a young chick drugged with alchemical crap, caught in the clutches of rich, perverted lascivious pervert. Only now she has all the power. Now she makes him fuck her like this, at her will. He, even without orders, without a blood leash, at a word and a glance, clamps the seemingly sweet and desirable rod between her breasts, pulls her nipples, crushes and squeezes her breasts, taking advantage of the strength and firmness of her body, cumming on her face, slapping his dick on her forehead and cheeks. She catches drops of delicious semen with her tongue and open mouth, rolling her scarlet eyes and smiling with that happy and stupid grin, trying to behave the same way as when she was caught in that shameful and still not forgotten captivity. She relives that trauma all over again, only now being the enslaver herself instead of the victim of someone else's lust, being in charge, being bossy, and playing with the submissive boy. Submissive, despite all his magical power and talent!

Camrad_RIP 18.08.24 в 14:50

Cumming again, rolling her eyes again, she suddenly realized that she couldn't get them back, that she couldn't stop sticking her tongue out of her mouth, couldn't stop making that funny, silly face, couldn't stop cumming, cumming, cumming and cumming, that she was just going to shut down, run out, run out because there was no room in her head for anything but the relentless orgasm. Arching her back, spreading her legs wider, and then throwing them over her shoulders, she focuses her gaze on her pussy, on her sweet flower, which continues to throb and cum even without the help of Pann, who is sitting a little apart and breathing tiredly. Sylvia smiles a patronizing and almost loving smile at her toy, her future faithful servant, turning her attention back to the throbbing inflorescence, forgiving the boy's willful play with her breasts as she cums impotently. She stares at that pleasure-hungry slit for a few more moments, as if waiting for the part of her body that was out of her power to come back under her control.

Camrad_RIP 18.08.24 в 14:52

And then she realizes, in a flash of insight, that it is not the cunt that is out of control, but her head. That it is the cunt that is in charge now, in the moment of ecstasy, but since the ecstasy and the peak of bliss never ends, her head just needs to give control back. Smiling contentedly, she opens her mouth again, sticks out her tongue, and rolls her eyes, giving in to the waves of pleasure all the way. She has a beautiful cunt, as strong-willed and commanding as herself, as strong, as powerful, and therefore, in this moment of ecstasy, the cunt is stronger than her head, stronger than the thoughts that are housed in her head. And so she doesn't need to think, she needs, on the contrary, to stop thinking. To stop thinking, not paying attention to how the aura was burning and expanding, into which right now an unknown force was pouring, making it stronger, stronger, stronger, as if building up the power of that aura in different aspects. And only after realizing this thought, finally understanding what is wrong here, she smiles even more sincerely, even though it's hard to pull it off with her mouth open, cumming even harder and just stops thi...

Camrad_RIP 18.08.24 в 14:54

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Camrad_RIP 11.08.24 в 20:03

The beautiful bloodsucker stands completely naked, eyes closed and mouth wide open, lips open in a ring, as if inviting something to push through those lips. However, methodically acting Stepan does not use the mouth of his beautiful Mistress. He is fully occupied with the next part of the task. On the floor, near his feet, is a small wooden bowl, and he himself, kneeling on his knees, now and then scoops a little transparent and oily liquid in this bowl, covering the Mistress's body with it. He started with her thighs, pussy, and legs, quietly ordering her to lift first one leg and then the other so that he could cover her feet with the alchemy, giving them his full attention, lubricating each toe. Following that, he worked the buttocks, stomach, back, chest, neck, and even the bloodsucker's face, avoiding only the deliberately bundled hair, eyebrows, eyelashes, and lips. For the lips, he had a different alchemy, a small vial, about the size of a pipette and with about the same amount of contents, which even had a special brush inside to apply the thick, black slurry to the lips of the motionless Sylvia.

Camrad_RIP 17.08.24 в 08:58

He finishes his work slowly, slowly cleaning up the remnants of the alchemy, even if they were tiny there was so much magic in them that he had to behave as if he were disposing of radioactive waste. When he had finished with the alchemical remnants, he ran his palm over his Mistress's porcelain-like and hard skin, touching her dark scarlet lips, assessing the reaction of her body and aura to the touch. He evaluates her violent and absolutely motionless cascading orgasm, which was not visible in any way but in the aura. Having finished with this part, he goes downstairs, to one of the rooms on the first floor completely dark and covered with a different, not natural darkness. Another senior spirit, creating the most suitable conditions for all sorts of undead and unclean things. Several strong spirits were filling the grave-shaped earth pit in that room, for the sake of which the floor had to be destroyed, as well as trying very hard to spell the earth, combining the territorial techniques of shamanism and pure witchcraft.

Camrad_RIP 15.08.24 в 05:11

A totem, homemade but made of the materials provided, burned out rapidly from contact with a powerful entity. Not only would this tomb be a great place to restore strength and keep any vampire from finding it, but it would also allow the vampire to be influenced through the earth. In fact, of course, only the youngest and not yet formed chicks need to stay in anabiosis during the day, preferably in a grave sprinkled with their own blood and spelled with the natural magic of the vampire kind. Over time, such a lair goes from being a prerequisite for survival to just another way to speed recovery and wait out a raid. For its Mistress, who can feel quite confident even on a day in direct sunlight, even if not for very long, neither coffin nor grave is necessary. Of course, she has such rookeries, a great number of them, both in Dantmark and the surrounding area, not to mention a particularly secure rookery in the basement of her residence, but it's just a dalliance. But for a fledgling, without a nest and patrons, it can be very useful to lie in a grave, to fall into stasis, to become invisible to search charms and prayers, and so on.

Camrad_RIP 16.08.24 в 09:02

The same frozen and motionless Mistress steps into the dug grave then the previously raised earth covers her, hiding her for several hours. Several very specific spirits begin to work on her mind and will, while Stepan slowly and confidently takes up a new call. This time a small chest appears in front of him, teleported by the will of the System and he walks out the door of the dark room, sits down on the very same call mat, opens the chest, and begins to work. Inside is a small, palm-sized, shapeless humanoid figure, as if molded from pure porcelain, but devoid of a face or any other distinguishing features. In addition to the doll in the chest are small scraps of cloth, shimmering with all the colors of the rainbow and a whole host of such, in the rainbow or the usual perception of not at all. The cloth woven from pure ether would be worth a fortune if Stepan decided to sell it, but he could not think of such a solution purely physically.

Camrad_RIP 16.08.24 в 09:37

He took a long needle cast from meteoric steel and the ashes of an ancient vampire embedded in the steel itself and pierced his finger, activating the artifact. The needle immediately began to spark and shimmer, becoming ghostly, then real, then immersed in the spirit plane, and then disappearing altogether. A very expensive and very specific disposable artifact, worthy of being a special lot of a system store, started working, and the guy was already picking up a drop of his Mistress's blood, placing it right inside the porcelain blank. Then he begins to work with the cloth and the skeins of the same shimmering and ghostly threads lying under the cloth, weaving around the doll a real weightless and ephemeral cocoon, immediately merging into the toy, becoming one with it. Little by little the shreds join the fun, which also become a part of the cocoon of changeable garments, carried to the depths of the reflection of the doll in the world of high spheres. This reflection is incredibly deep, saturated, and qualitative, giving close to ideal control over the image of the one who is put into this doll.

Camrad_RIP 16.08.24 в 09:39

Despite the fact that his puppet skill is already a mastery even by System standards, Stepan feels like just an adjuster who has been given magnificent parts for a quantum computer, almost ready just disassembled. He is enough to assemble the thing, to put the image of the Mistress into the control circuits, to activate the masking and concealment system, to awaken the portable spiritual cavern for the future masterpiece. But he still didn't create that masterpiece, he only utilized it in a utilitarian way. Only even in such conditions his skills, the full power of his magical gift, were barely enough to keep the finest tool from being broken by his crooked hands. Now the flaps and thread are over, and the doll of the Mistress has acquired a photographic resemblance to her in every respect and the smallest details, but the needle has not yet exhausted its resource, and Stepan again pierces his skin, but already in the palm of his hand, sticking an unreal and impossible product into the flesh, while manipulating his own spirit, linking the doll with his spirit and spiritual body. In this way he continues to sew the doll to himself, gaining over it the fullest possible control, the maximum affinity with it.

Camrad_RIP 16.08.24 в 09:42

He sews until the doll becomes blurred, like a mirage in the heat, and then disappears altogether, hiding in such a way that it is impossible to find, especially given the presence of Stepan's shroud and patchwork echo. A soft movement of the palm of his hand, as if snatching something out of the air, and then the guide doll was back in his hand, the connection with the Mistress was restored again, the path to the deepest layers of her mind, will, subtle bodies, or even the upper layers of her soul was opened again. Sitting in a meditative pose, he folds his palms in a boat, allowing the doll to freeze in the air, levitating without apparent effort and without leaving an auric background, as if it were indeed a simple toy that had just been skillfully crafted and was somehow hanging in the air. Closing his eyes, he immerses himself in this image and begins to help the summoned spirits remake his beloved Mistress, exactly according to the script specifications of his system assignment.

Camrad_RIP 15.08.24 в 18:09

* * *

Camrad_RIP 11.08.24 в 20:03

Pushing herself out of the cozy earthy embrace Sylvia, full of strength and energy, first, applied the most frequently used form of blood armor, which any experienced chick knows how to use even better than the combat modification - a Scarlet Haze that vaporizes any dirt or other foreign stains on the body. A modicum of strength, good control, and, of course, years and years of practice, made it possible to pull off the purification almost instantly. Bloodsuckers are rarely given any magic other than blood magic, and if they are, it's usually not ordinary people from the scarlet-drop society. Like Sylvia herself, who was quite adept at alchemical practices, or Edward, may the Sun shine on him forever, who had a good command of the classical school of force-arcane influence with neutral magic and a much better command of ritualism. The elements, the elements, were rarely under their control, except for the earth, which was always ready to accept them, and which they learned to control through blood spilled on that earth, not through the standard geomancer methods.

Camrad_RIP 17.08.24 в 03:51

Sylvia knew a few blood-blessed wind adepts, a couple who had mastered the dark reflection of water magic, one of her fledglings had shown excellent potential to become one as well. She had even heard a glimpse of a unicum, one of the ungifted at all, who had managed to awaken an affinity with flame, but she had never crossed paths in person. She was no good at anything but blood magic, even alchemy was tied to blood and its derivatives, but she thought that was enough for her. Edward was strong, but he couldn't even dream of mastering the subtlety of using the subjugating effects of blood. She had enslaved a master of magic with blood and with the direction of shamanism! If any of the bastard's retinue or himself had tried to do it, it would have been pure carnage, and the boy would have realized and noticed. But she did, quietly, imperceptibly, several times believing that she was about to be finished, but by the end of their dialog the boy was licking her as well as a trained servant, and then she tasted him, sucking so much deliciously that the thought of it made her stomach feel as heavy.

Camrad_RIP 17.08.24 в 07:56

Smirking at the thought, the vampire finds no reason why she should stop enjoying her victory. Quickly and easily, with a silent gait like a night shadow, she heads for the room her boy toy occupies, getting down on all fours just before entering and creeping into the room already so. She meets Pann's gaze, full of adoration at the sight of her Mistress, smiling in return, and then opens her mouth, flicking out her tongue, and begins to breathe frequently, like a guard dog, even though she has not needed air for a long time. Still crawling on four limbs, trying to stick out her chest, she gets closer and, as the last drop in the refined dish of her abuse of the poor thing, starts barking dog-like:

Camrad_RIP 15.08.24 в 18:10

"R-raf! Woof! Gah!" What an incredible feeling it is to behave like a bitch in heat, looking at how involuntarily aroused and desiring her body is by her subjugated little boy, how she owns him now. "Gau! Gough! R-raf!"

Camrad_RIP 17.08.24 в 16:20

And he started scratching her behind her ear, stroking her face while she licked his palm, and treating her like a tame dog, not even realizing that she was the one controlling him, that she was giving him orders and he was carrying out her every wish. Well, not exactly fulfilled, because she does not directly use the bloody fetters invested in him, and does not add new orders unnecessarily, because it is not necessary. He already anticipates every whim of his Mistress, like a well-trained animal, which perfectly sees the moment when the Mistress herself wants to play the animal.

Camrad_RIP 17.08.24 в 16:42

She waved her ass and whimpered, waving her buttocks in front of him, quickly getting him to enter her, first in her cunt, then, after pouring his seed full of life into her gut, she shifted a little, bending a little lower, turning to him and barking, sticking out her tongue and drooling a string of saliva on the floor, hinting the beast was to be fucked in the wrong place. And, font of blood to her witness, he obeyed even without her orders, thrusting his rod in, straining to the limit. right into her ass, to the limit, to the edge, mixing his seed with her, figuratively speaking, filth. Alas, only figuratively, because the children of the night have no defecation process whatsoever, even ordinary food, if you eat it for some reason, for example, for camouflage purposes or to remember the taste of human food, in their gut disintegrates without a trace. She remembered that long ago, when she had been held captive in a situation she hated, being at the mercy of rich men with special tastes, her ass had also been loved for its constant tightness, the pleasant coolness of the clenching flesh walls, and the lack of need for pre-cleaning.

Camrad_RIP 17.08.24 в 16:45