The last clear memory I have is losing my virginity, and Sora's data flashing in my vision like a cruel taunt:
[Name – Sora]
[Race – Dark Elf]
[Soul Level – 250]
[Magic Level – 600]
[Soul connection formed with the individual, Sora of Obsidian Hollow Tribe.]
"Huh? Soul connection? And did she just level up, or…"
That was it. Everything after that dissolved into fog.
I do remember getting too deep into the role—too far into the commands, the slaps, the degradation, the way Sora's moans egged me on until I wasn't even thinking anymore. I just… became someone else. Someone cruel. Someone who liked it.
But now I'm back!
Only naked, and Sweaty, and still half-hard despite everything.
Two equally naked women lie sprawled on the dry, cracked ground in front of me.
Sora is on her side, one leg bent, the other stretched out.
The thick ropes of my cum leak steadily from her swollen, reddened vagina—white streaks painted across her inner thighs, pooling in the dirt beneath her ass.
Her brown skin glistens with sweat and fluids; her heavy breasts heave with every shallow breath, dark nipples still erect and shiny from Sora's own saliva.
Silver hair sticks to her flushed cheeks and neck in damp strands.
Her blue eyes are glassy, lips parted in a dazed, obscene smile, tongue lolling slightly as another small dribble of cum escapes the corner of her mouth. She looks utterly ruined… and honestly, completely satisfied.
Eirene lies a few paces away on her back, legs splayed carelessly.
Her pale skin—almost luminescent under the harsh sun—contrasts violently with the obscene trails of semen running from her abused slit down the crease of her ass and onto the ground.
Her modest boobs rise and fall rapidly, silver-pink nipples stiff and glistening.
Cum drips from her folds in slow, viscous strings; her thighs tremble every few seconds as aftershocks ripple through her.
Her silver hair fans out beneath her like molten metal, strands clinging to her sweat-slicked collarbones and the hollow of her throat.
Her normally cold silver eyes are half-lidded, pupils blown wide, cheeks flushed a deep, embarrassed pink that spreads down her neck and across the tops of her breasts. Every breath makes her chest quiver; every tiny shift sends more of my seed sliding out of her.
I stare for one horrified second, before reality crashes in.
"Ahhhh, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry! Please, just kill me!!"
I drop into perfect dogeza—forehead slamming into the dirt so hard it stings, arms stretched out in front of me.
'Yabai! Eirene is going to kill me. I raped an Emanation, and now she's going to tear my flesh off my bones, purify my soul, turn me into dust—'
"You… b-better take responsibility, you hear?"
Hm?
I freeze.
Eirene's voice is small and shaky. Nothing like the ice-cold monotone I'm used to.
I peek up through my bangs.
She's sitting up now, knees drawn to her chest, arms wrapped around them.
Her cheeks are blazing—bright, girlish pink that makes her look almost… delicate. She's playing with her fingers, twisting them nervously, eyes darting everywhere but at me.
Cum still leaks slowly from between her clenched thighs, dripping onto the ground in soft PLIPS. Her lower lip trembles; then she bites it, trying to look stern, but the blush ruins it completely. Those focused silver eyes—usually so cutting—are soft now, uncertain, glistening faintly like she might actually cry.
Eh? What happened to Eirene?
My brain stalls.
'And… is she… blushing? Uwah, like a high-school girl?'
She continues, her voice barely above a whisper.
"No one… has ever desired me like that… but I will only call you Master when I feel like it, understand?!"
I don't know what the hell is going on, but one thing is clear: if I play along right now, I might actually survive this.
I raise both hands slowly, palms out.
"O… Okay, you got me." I swallow. "Your silver hair, your body in all its right proportions, those focused silver eyes…"
I crack one eye open to check.
And it's working!
Eirene's blush deepens. She pouts—actually pouts—lips pursing, and her cheeks puffing slightly. She looks away, silver hair falling across her face like a curtain.
So I double down.
"I couldn't help but jump for joy, internally, that Goddess Asherah sent you to be with me. I am certain I'm in safe hands… Thank you, Eirene."
"Wh-whatever…" she mumbles, twisting a strand of hair around her finger. "It's not like I truly despise looking after some mortal maggot… Thank you for having me… Master."
Thank god, I'm saved!
But…
"Okay, let's ditch the 'Master,' it's weird. And it feels like you're insulting me somehow."
"So, you're more attuned to 'maggot' and 'trash'?" she asks, her voice regaining a tiny edge.
"I'm not Sora, so no. I will prefer Master, as you've already called me, Eirene-sama."
She huffs softly, but doesn't argue.
I turn to the still-breathing heap of mess that is Sora.
"Hey, Sora… I'm Shirogane Yanen. Again. I'm really sorry for… uhm… you know, cumming inside you…. Multiple times. Ah, and if you happen get pregnant because of me, I swear I'll take full responsibility. I'll—"
Sora pushes herself up on shaky arms, her silver hair falling in messy waves around her flushed face.
"Elves don't get pregnant easily, Lord Yanen," she says seriously. "It's harder for pure elves than dark elves, but you shouldn't worry about it."
Her blue eyes sparkle. "And… you can cum inside me anytime you want."
I nearly choked. This girl is even more perverted than Asherah? That was possible?!
She smiles sweetly though.
I clear my throat and gesture toward Eirene.
"This is Eirene. She's… sharp-tongued. So be wary."
Sora's breathing hitches immediately.
"Th… the lady with the sharp tongue…?!"
Eirene turns her head slowly.
"Good to meet you… Actually, no. You make me sick."
"Hngh! M-My name is Sora… but you can call me any THING you want…"
"Truly? How does aberrant female cur sound?" Eirene asks calmly.
"Oof~!!" Sora hugs her own body, her thighs squeezing together.