NTR: Stealing wives in Another World

Calla's lips smeared with Mira's leaking shame, her eyes glazed in bliss and obedience as she licked deeper, moaning softly into the pulsing heat of her fellow slave's cunt. Allen watched her intently, his cock slowly rising again—veins bulging, slick with leftover lust, twitching in anticipation like a divine weapon begging to be wielded.

He didn't speak, didn't need to.

The room responded to his silence with a reverent hush—every breath held, every gaze pinned on Calla as she pushed Mira's thighs wider and tongued deeper, dragging her fingers through the mess just to suck them clean. Even the Rhelgar elders, once so proud, were reduced to panting voyeurs—throats dry, skin flushed, their authority dripping away with every wet slurp echoing in the chamber.

Allen leaned forward.

"Brin," he said, his voice cracking the quiet like thunder through silk. "Your turn."

The olive-skinned girl flinched—short hair plastered to her temples, her jaw clenched in anticipation. She stepped forward with a dignity that trembled under her arousal, trying to hold onto something of her pride, but Allen's gaze stripped it away with every step she took toward him.

"Present," he ordered.

Brin dropped to her knees and bent forward, bracing her hands against the edge of the ceremonial platform—her ass lifted high, her legs spread, her wet pussy glistening with untouched need. She trembled as Allen stood, towering behind her, his shadow stretching across her back like a cloak of dominance.

He didn't waste time.

One hand wrapped around the base of his cock, guiding the slick, angry head to Brin's entrance. He rubbed it against her folds, letting her feel the heat, the size, the promise of what was coming.

"Tell me what you are," he demanded.

Brin's voice cracked. "I… I'm yours."

Allen grunted, and pushed inside.

Her breath caught violently. The stretch was brutal, immediate, her tight hole yielding inch by thick, veiny inch until her entire body was shaking from the sheer fullness. She let out a strangled gasp, her arms buckling beneath her.

But Allen didn't pause.

He grabbed her waist and rammed in deeper, shoving her face-first into the platform. His cock bottomed out inside her, and Brin screamed—her sound muffled by the velvet cushion as Allen began to pound her. No rhythm. No mercy. Just pure, hungry domination.

SMACK. SMACK. SMACK.

Her ass jiggled with every impact, loud wet squelches marking each brutal thrust. Brin was crying, drooling, moaning—her walls clenching around him, trying to adjust, trying to hold on, but failing completely. Her pride snapped like a collar being yanked from a stubborn beast.

And Allen grinned.

"Fina," he barked.

His catkin lover appeared beside him like a summoned blade—bare, flushed, her eyes gleaming with mischief. "Yes, love?"

"Punish Calla if she stops licking."

Fina's smile turned cruel as she pulled off her sash and coiled it around her knuckles.

"Yes, Master."

Calla moaned into Mira's cunt, doubling down, tongue working frantically to prove herself worthy, her own thighs soaked and twitching from denial. Fina crouched beside her, ready to strike, eyes narrowed like a predator guarding the ritual.

Brin wailed again as Allen shifted her angle, grabbing her short hair and yanking her head back, forcing her to arch as he slammed deeper. His cock was battering her cervix now, reshaping her from the inside out.

"You're nothing but a hole," he snarled.

"Yes!" she sobbed. "Yes, I'm your hole—I'm just a fucktoy, just your c-cunt!"

The declaration sent a ripple of moans through the court. One of the bound nobles came untouched, his cum shooting up in a pathetic arc before drooling onto his lap. No one cleaned it. No one dared move.

Allen pulled out suddenly, and Brin gasped in confusion—but he didn't leave her empty for long. He spit on her asshole, then shoved his thumb inside while his cock rested between her soaked folds, grinding against her swollen clit.

She jerked violently. "M-Master—!"

"I'm not done with your pussy," he said, voice low. "But your ass is next."

"Please!" she cried. "I—I'll take it, I'll take everything!"

Allen's cock throbbed at her surrender.

He slid back into her cunt, but this time slower—deeper—holding her in place as her belly stretched again. Her breath came in ragged moans, her mind slipping somewhere between pain and pleasure, submission and sacred worship. Her eyes crossed as Allen bit down on her shoulder, hard, claiming her body like a beast taking territory.

He began thrusting again, slower now, more deliberate. Each motion was a grind, a drag, a cruel tease that sent Brin spiraling, her thighs soaked with fresh juices, her cries high and cracked. She clawed at the platform like it would anchor her, but Allen just chuckled, never letting up.

Then, without warning, he came.

Deep.

Brin's mouth dropped open in a silent scream as his seed flooded her, hot and endless, stuffing her already full womb with more than it could hold. It poured from her as he pulled out, thick globs of cum drooling down her legs, her pussy red and ruined, pulsing with overstimulation.

Allen stood back, cock still dripping, and looked over the room.

A kingdom of bound nobility.

Maids licking up leftovers.

Foxkin grinning like wolves.

His girls standing proud, dripping in dominance and sex.

He turned to Niva next.

She was already crawling forward, cheeks flushed, her breath heavy with anticipation.

"Please," she whispered. "Make me feel like them."

Allen just pointed to his cock.

And Niva opened her mouth.

Niva knelt before him, her feline ears twitching with anticipation, black tail swaying behind her like a metronome synced to the throb of Allen's still-hard cock. Her eyes were wide and golden, pupils dilated to slits of pure hunger. Cum was still dripping from Brin's wrecked cunt beside her, pooling onto the platform as Allen gave Niva the smallest nod.

That was all it took.

Niva leaned in and pressed a reverent kiss to the head of his cock—still twitching, glazed in his previous climax, smeared with Brin's insides. She moaned the moment her tongue met it, tasting the salt and musk of dominance and surrender, purring around the girth as she lapped from the tip down to the base like a desperate housepet who hadn't been fed in days. She wasn't performing—she was worshipping.

Allen placed a hand on her head, fingers weaving into her silky black hair, gripping tight just behind her twitching cat ears. He didn't say anything. He didn't need to. The tension in his grip told Niva everything.

She opened wider.

He guided her onto his cock, slipping the tip past her lips, then pushing deeper. Her throat convulsed around him as she took more, drool immediately spilling from the corners of her mouth. She didn't gag—she purred, like being used like this made her whole.

Allen grunted as her throat tightened, her tongue pressing along the underside of his shaft, working in perfect rhythm with each subtle thrust of his hips. Niva clawed at his thighs for stability, eyes fluttering as he hit the back of her throat over and over. When he held her down, burying his cock completely in her throat, her whole body trembled—tail puffed, ears flattened—but she didn't pull away. She sank into it.

Allen finally pulled back, letting her breathe, and Niva gasped around a spit-slick gasp, eyes glazed and blissed. He slapped his cock across her face twice—splat, splat—marking her cheeks in the strings of another woman's juices before dragging her back down and fucking her face again, this time faster, harder, like he was trying to bury all his control deep in her throat.

The watching slaves were squirming now. Mira had collapsed onto her side, legs trembling from overstimulation as Calla still licked at her reflexively like a well-trained bitch. Tessa was curled up nearby, quietly fingering herself, hoping no one noticed—but Fina did.

The bunny-eared woman stepped up, her eyes narrowing in amusement. She walked with that seductive spring in her step, those soft, fluffy ears twitching as she crouched beside Tessa and whispered, "Did you ask for permission?"

Tessa shook her head violently, her fingers freezing in place, shame washing over her pale, freckled cheeks. "I—I'm sorry—"

Fina smirked and leaned in close, brushing her lips just behind the girl's ear. "Then you better stop, or I'll tie your legs so wide you'll cramp before you get to cum."

Tessa whimpered and pulled her hand away, panting as she tried to obey. But Fina wasn't done. She grabbed a nearby chain from the platform, something ornamental—but very usable—and bound Tessa's hands behind her back with practiced ease. "Now be a good girl and watch. Suffering makes the climax sweeter."

Allen watched Fina with a growl of approval, then shoved deep into Niva's throat one last time before pulling out completely. The catkin collapsed onto the floor, coughing, drool and pre-cum coating her chest, but she was smiling. She loved it.

"Up," Allen ordered.

Niva obeyed instantly, rising to her feet on shaky legs.

"Turn around."

Her tail lifted.

Allen grabbed her hips and shoved her forward so her hands braced against a low stone altar—some old lizardfolk relic covered in moss and dust. It was symbolic. It had been sacred. Now it was just another thing Allen would desecrate with a fuck.

He slid into Niva without warning.

She cried out, claws raking down the altar as her pussy stretched around him. She was tight—fucking clenching with every inch that sank inside her—and she moaned like she'd been touched by god. Her tail flicked wildly, batting against Allen's stomach as he began to thrust, fast and deep, fucking her onto the altar like she was nothing but a trophy.

He grabbed her tail and yanked it like a leash.

"Say what you are."

"I'm a breeding toy!" Niva cried out, eyes wild, tongue lolling as her legs threatened to give out. "Breed me, Master! I'm just a cum rag for your cock!"

Allen growled and bent her lower, hammering harder now, the slap of skin-on-skin echoing in the humid temple air. Each thrust dragged her closer to the edge, her cunt milking him with every stroke, her thighs soaked and trembling. He didn't let up. He couldn't. He was past reason, driven by lust and power and the heat of so many ruined girls watching with adoration and jealousy.

And then he came again.

He buried himself deep in her and filled her womb with another thick load, grinding his cock in slow circles as he came, moaning low and beastlike into her ear. Niva collapsed onto the altar with a groan, pussy drooling thick seed onto the sacred stone as Allen pulled out and wiped himself clean on her back.

"Rinni," he said, turning now to the rabbitfolk girl.

She was already there—kneeling, hands folded in her lap, big soft ears drooping submissively, but her pink eyes were on fire.

"Yes, Allen," she whispered.

"Get the last two maids ready."

Rinni hopped up with that familiar little bounce in her step, her soft body and cheerful grin clashing beautifully with the sadistic gleam in her eye. She skipped to Mira and Calla, grabbing each girl by the hair and dragging them toward the altar, giggling as they stumbled after her.

Allen sat down on the stone throne—legs spread, cock semi-hard, dripping—and watched as Rinni forced Mira to her knees and straddled her face, rubbing her own soaked slit all over Mira's mouth. "Lick," she ordered.

Calla was pushed onto her hands and knees beside them.

Then Rinni turned to Allen with a smile so sweet it could rot teeth.

"Would you like your bunny now, Master?" she asked, voice syrupy, breathless.

Allen's cock twitched.

"Yes," he growled.

And Rinni crawled forward—obedient, eager, soaked—and climbed into his lap, ready to be used.