Lyssandra withdrew her still-raging cock from Evelyn's tors. The sudden release sent a final jolt of pleasure through her.
As her bulbous tip cleared the ruined orifice of Evelyn's anus, fresh surge of hot cum erupted from the shaft, splattering onto Evelyn's ravaged body and the pool below. The sensation was so intense it made Lyssandra moan deep in her throat.
She held up the filled torso and head, surveying the damage. The torso was grotesquely swollen, stretched to the limits, skin almost translucent in places.
Evelyn's face was frozen in rictus of ultimate bliss. Her jaw was dislocated and hanging slack, filled with thick white seed dripping down like saliva from the lips corners. Instead of snort, pure semen leaked from her nose in thick droplets.
"Pathetic," Lyssandra muttered dismissively, her gaze cold despite the afterglow. Flicking her wrist, the filled torso and head were tossed into the center of the churning pool. They landed by a thick, heavy splash, sinking slowly into the viscous depths.
'Is she dead? Just like that?!' Horror flashed through the maid's mind.
Lyssandra turned her attention back to the maid, still half submerged in front of her. She lifted the girl's chin gently with the toe of her semen-covered foot.
"Look at me," Lyssandra commanded, her voice hypnotic, dripping with covetous dominance.
The maid shuddered violently. Her eyes, wide and unseeing a moment before, flickered to life, meeting the Mistress's piercing gaze. She gasped for air, her chest heaving, irises dilating until they nearly consumed the whites of her eyes.
Hyperventilating, her lips parted as if in silent plea or protest.
"That's right," Lyssandra purred, cruel smile playing on her lips. "Keep your eyes on me. Only me. Nothing else." Her voice resonated, filling the chamber. "This… is you in the future."
She gestured dismissively towards the submerging body parts. "You will offer me your body, your heart, your soul… everything. Willingly. Unreservedly."
Her voice dropped to sultry whisper, sending chills down the maid's spine. "This… is your final destination."
The words struck like a hammer blow. They echoed in the maid's mind, crushing the last of her resistance, smothering the terrified voice screaming for freedom.
'Yes…' the thought surfaced, unbidden. 'This is who I am meant to be.'
Without hesitation, the maid opened her lips wider. Her tongue snaked out, lapping eagerly, desperately, at the tip of Lyssandra's toe.
She worshipped, sucking and licking like it were ambrosia, her entire being consumed by desire to serve. The taste, the scent, the overwhelming presence of her goddess…
it was...
'My everything…' the maid thought, perverse serenity settling over her while she surrendered utterly, becoming just another willing vessel for her mistress's pleasure. Her tongue worked faster, body trembling not with fear, but fervent, sickening devotion.
Lyssandra pulled her toe back before rising to her feet, standing tall on the ledge. She looked down at the maid, now coated entirely in white from her earlier plunge and splatter from Evelyn. She was trembling but wearing an expression of blank, utter dedication.
'The fruit is not ripe,' Lyssandra eyeing her. 'Soon though.'
"Clean this up," she commanded, her voice brisk. "Toss the rest of the psycho's parts into the pool. She could use some… training."
A cruel smile flickered across Lyssandra's lips. "In hindsight, knowing her, being choked and submerged in my essence is probably heaven. Who'd have thought?"
She turned away, dismissing them without a backward glance and strode out of the breeding room.
Back in Lyssandra's private study chamber. She perched elegantly on the edge of the desk, summoning the system inventory interface. She withdrew one of the Heartspore mushrooms. Its pale, veined cap glowed soft green luminescence. She turned it over in her fingers, studying it intently.
A triumphant smile spread across her face. 'It worked perfectly.'
She remembered the spontaneous idea that had struck her while harvesting these fungi. Why lug them back physically when her system could do the heavy lifting?
'Every time I find something new…' she mused, '…do I have to return to the dungeon to store it? Waste of time. Instead…'
She accessed her clone's senses through [Echo Marionette] link. She could feel the clone far away, standing on the road.
'I can simply store the spores inside the inventory. Then, the moment the clone arrives somewhere secure… I make my main body access the inventory and retrieve the item instantly.' She chuckled, sound of smug amusement. 'Efficiency at its finest. This System is proving more useful by the day.'
She twirled the glowing mushroom between her fingers once more, eerie green light reflecting in her satisfied eyes.
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Lyssandra's clone stood motionless on the dusty roadside leading to Agos. Her mind was still partially linked to her main body, savoring the success of the experiment and lingering euphoria from what she had done to Evelyn.
"Hey… are you okay?" Miriel's soft voice interrupted the stillness, filled with concern. "You've been standing there for like, half an hour…"
Snapping back to the present, Lyssandra quickly readjusted the black mask partially covering her face. "I'm fine," she reassured Miriel. "Just enjoying the outside view and gentle breeze. It's quite refreshing."
She looked at the worrying girl again, assessing her. "You've had enough rest? Or do you want to stay a little more?"
Miriel shook her head. "I'm good. We should go."
"Alright, let's go," Lyssandra agreed. They began walking again, side by side down the deserted dirt road, their boots kicking up small puffs of dust.
They walked in peaceful silence for a time, the only sounds were rustling leaves and the crunch of their footsteps.
Finally, Lyssandra broke the silence with a thoughtful question. "So… back in that ruin. When the fungus affected you and me," she added, recalling her own brief surge of murderous intent from her clone, "you were repeating something about not leaving you. And you seemed very scared. Did something happen to you in the past?"
She glanced sideways at Miriel. "You don't have to answer if you don't want to."
The Saintess paused mid-stride for the briefest second, then continued walking, her head bowed slightly. Tense silence followed Lyssandra's question, stretching for a few moments.
When she finally spoke, her voice was quiet, almost fragile. "It… it's nothing," she murmured, gaze fixed on the dusty path ahead. "Just… something I remembered from the past."
She took a shaky breath, steeling herself. "But… I'll tell you about it. Since you saved my life… more than once." A small, self-deprecating smile touched her lips. "I owe you that much, at least."
Lyssandra walked in silence beside, waiting patiently, eyes on the horizon ahead.
Miriel's voice softened, tinged with nostalgia when she spoke. Her silver eyes grew distant, lost in memories. "There was a little girl… always with a bright smile on her face. She lived happily with her family in a small, peaceful village...."
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Inside a cozy, sun-drenched cottage kitchen.
"Mother, look!" exclaimed a bright-eyed young girl with silvery hair, bursting through the back door. In her small, trembling hands, she held a blood-soaked creature. It was a rabbit, its fur matted with crimson, breathing shallowly. A cruel arrow was embedded in its side.
The girl's mother gasped, rushing over. "Oh, sweetheart! Quickly, bring it in here!" she urged, ushering her daughter towards the wooden table.
Carefully, the little girl laid the injured animal down on the smooth surface. Crimson immediately began to pool beneath it. The girl's small hands were immediately covered in red.
"Mother… will it be okay?" the girl asked, voice thick with concern, her big eyes welling with tears.
"Hush now, darling," her mother said gently, quickly assessing the injury. "It's not too bad. You did well getting it to me so quickly."
Her voice was calm and reassuring, a balm to the girl's worries. "Now, hold this cloth here firmly against the wound to stop the bleeding while I prepare."
The girl obeyed, pressing the clean rag against the damaged flesh, her little brow furrowed in concentration. She winced when the creature trembled beneath the touch.
Her mother moved efficiently, gathering clean water, bandages, and a jar of fragrant healing salve from nearby cabinet. Delicate, skilled fingers cleaned carefully around the arrowhead. The rabbit twitched, whimpering softly.