Uris drew in a sharp breath as the bandit's hot member rubbed against her inner thighs and the sensitive folds of her heat.
"Hnnngh!"
It was a sensation she had never experienced. It was incomparable to the self-pleasure she had occasionally engaged in alone. She was human, after all; she wasn't a woman devoid of sexual desire. She had basic knowledge and had touched herself before. But this—this was different. It was far more intense than when the bandit had tortured her breasts.
The bandit's promise of a "much better experience" was no lie. Her hyper-sensitive clitoris and flesh were being ground against the thick, throbbing heat of his shaft, plunging her into a sea of euphoria.
"Ah... ahh..."
Every time the bandit's hips moved, a feverish breath escaped her lips. She couldn't escape even if she wanted to. The bandit's massive hands gripped her thighs with such force that flight was a forbidden thought. Following the silent command not to move, her body simply shuddered in place, helpless.
The voice of victory that usually announced the fall of enemy generals on the battlefield was nowhere to be found.
"Hngh... Haah... Hiccup♥!!"
Only moans filled with pleasure escaped her. She sounded less like a knight and more like a bashful harlot. With saliva dripping from her mouth and her hips instinctively rocking back and forth to meet his touch, who would ever recognize her as the Goddess of Victory?
"Ah..."
She looked at the bandit's face with dazed eyes. He looked down at her with a triumphant smirk, like a commander who had just conquered an impregnable fortress.
"Do you like it?"
"..."
She couldn't bring herself to answer. But both she and the bandit knew that her silence was the answer. The woman who had been resisting just moments ago could no longer even conceive of the word "no."
"S-stop...!!!"
As the shaft swept over her clitoris, Uris gripped the ropes of her shackles tightly, feeling like she was at her limit. "The... the member... it keeps touching me..."
"It's not a 'member.' You're killing the mood talking like that." The bandit leaned in close, his breath hot against her ear. "There's a perfectly good word for it: 'cock.' If you want to be bred by me from now on, call it a cock. You little slut."
"C-cock..."
Why had she said it? As the word left her lips, Uris felt her entire body set ablaze. It was a word used by common streetwalkers—a vulgar, filthy word. But speaking it aloud gave her a rush of forbidden thrill she had never known. Raised as a noble and a knight, Uris had never known a man. She had chased the sword over men, and victory over the sword. Now, this debauched experience was searing itself into her brain.
I shouldn't... I can't...
Her heart hammered, and her vision blurred. Even as her legs grew weak, the man's hands held her firm. The bandit's grip and the thick shaft wedged between her thighs supported her trembling weight. If he let go, she would surely collapse.
The bandit's words rang in her ears: The "real" Uris wouldn't be like this. If you were strong, you wouldn't be taken like this.
"How long are you going to stay quiet?"
Uris snapped back to reality to find the bandit standing still, his shaft simply pressed against her. Yet, her lower half felt incredible. The reason her clitoris and folds were being rubbed... was because Uris's own hips were moving on their own, searching for pleasure.
I'm moving... by myself?
"Since I stopped moving, you started riding it yourself. Do you love cock that much? Well, if you don't say it with your own mouth, I'm not going to move another inch."
Ah. Right.
If I were the "real" Uris, I would never move like this.
Therefore... it's okay if this memory is engraved in me.
Because right now, I'm not the real Uris.
"Cock... I like it. Please... move more. Don't stop..."
"You love it that much?"
The bandit's hips began to drive again.
"Haaa-ah! Hngh! I love it!!!!!"
Uris gasped, her moans becoming more primal. Forgetting that the bandit had even let go of her thighs, she squeezed her legs together herself, grinding against him to find that sweet spot. It was enough to make her dizzy, but she wanted more.
It's not enough.
She wanted him deeper. More. More. More.
Into where? There was only one opening, wasn't there?
I want him to ram it inside my hole...
But that thought didn't last.
"Go off for me."
With those words, the bandit grabbed her highly sensitive nipples and twisted.
"Nnngh-aaaaahhh!!!!"
Splash!
Her senses were so warped that even the pain of the pinch felt like pure ecstasy. Uris climaxed violently, spraying a fountain of fluid. As her hips bucked, she felt the shaft between her thighs twitch, drenching her buttocks in hot liquid. The realization that she had satisfied the bandit with her body, just as he had satisfied her, filled her with a strange sense of fulfillment.
This is... good. Making someone feel good because of me... is a good thing.
With that final thought, she lost consciousness.
"I'll be expecting you back."
The bandit's final words were carved into her mind like a command.
I navigated between the illusion and reality, keeping pace with Uris. Switching between the two was easy for a high-level illusionist like me.
When Uris met the bandit in the illusion, I became that bandit to subdue her. While she "stripped" in the illusion, I actually helped her up in reality, using the shackles and ropes I had prepared to hang her arms from the ceiling. These were new props—made of soft leather so they wouldn't leave marks on her wrists.
In reality, the entranced Uris was staring blankly into space. She would flinch or gasp according to the bandit's words in the vision, but there was no violent resistance. That's the beauty of illusion magic: it neutralizes the mind while leaving the body unharmed.
"This is quite a sight."
I looked at the "two" Uris's: the naked, bound version in the illusion, and the uniformed, bound version in reality. There was a different kind of thrill in seeing her tied up in her pristine knight's uniform. The contrast of the dignified fabric against her helpless state was a masterpiece of hidden aesthetics.
I dove back into the illusion to finish the performance, acting out the most vulgar, overbearing bandit her heart desired.
[Uris's Desire: Wants the bandit to make a mess of her.]
The desire remained the same. "A mess." A wonderful phrase. When people are swept away by desire, they always end up a mess.
When the bandit "pulled out his cock," I pulled out a heated dildo in reality. It was enchanted with a warming spell to mimic the heat of a real human body. It was also designed to be incredibly realistic. To make the illusion feel real, the tactile sensations in reality have to match. The "cock" in the illusion was based on my own measurements; naturally, the dildo was too.
I wedged the dildo between her thighs and secured it. Then I went back into the role. Honestly, I felt like I was really doing it. It was so vivid that I could feel my own excitement pulsing in my pants.
I'll admit, I was frustrated. I would have loved to actually do it. But I didn't have the suicidal courage to actually assault the Commander of the 1st Order while she was in a trance. If I did it for real, it would leave evidence. And as I've said, my combat power in reality is zero.
Unless Uris asked me to do it for real...
Seeing her start to move her own hips, I knew the video was a success. And when she finally hit that spectacular climax and sprayed, I had a sudden "Oops" moment.
'I forgot to put down the moisture-absorbing towel!'
After delivering the final line, I hurried back to reality. There stood the Iron-Blooded Knight, still hanging from the ceiling, her face dazed and flushed as she continued to leak uncontrollably in her trance. It's like wetting the bed when you dream of a bathroom—when the pleasure in the dream is that intense, the body reacts in kind.
Her body shuddered as she gasped for air, and her uniform was so soaked that fluid began to drip from the hem of her trousers onto the floor. Even though her mind was unconscious, her body was still savoring every drop of pleasure. When she woke up, these physical sensations would have a profound effect on her.
"You really did it this time."
She must have loved it. As a seller, it was a satisfying scene—aside from the cleanup.
"Time to tidy up, I guess."
Uris woke up five minutes later. I had already used magic to clean up the fluids. I had unfastened her hands and returned her to her original seated position to minimize the embarrassment.
Uris was only just beginning to accept her desires by separating her "real" self from her "illusion" self. If she realized just how much of a mess she had made in reality, she might be too ashamed to ever return. So, I erased every trace of her grand finale.
Of course, that meant I didn't have time to deal with my own pants, which were now noticeably dampened by my own frustrated arousal.
"Mmm..." Uris opened her eyes and looked at me. "Is it... over?"
"Yes. The three-hour session you requested is complete."
"I see." Uris stood up and stretched, looking refreshed. Then, she sniffed the air. "You... you smell quite nice."
"Do I?"
"Yes. It's an addictive scent."
Her eyes flicked down for a fraction of a second. To my pants. To the spot that hadn't dried yet. It was only a moment.
"...Illusion is more powerful than I thought. It could certainly be used for battlefield simulations."
"Was the experience of defeat satisfactory?"
"..."
She didn't say. Now that she was back in reality, she had put the mask of the "Iron-Blooded Knight" back on. But her expression couldn't lie; her flushed cheeks and dazed eyes told me everything.
"The next time you visit, I'll provide even better service."
"...I'm leaving."
"I'll be waiting."
Uris couldn't meet my eyes until the moment she stepped out the door. I knew then. She'd be back.