NTR: Stealing wives in Another World

Rinni settled into his lap like she belonged there—because she did. Soft thighs straddling his hips, her fluffy white tail brushing against his stomach, and those perky tits pressing against his chest as she nuzzled into the crook of his neck. She was trembling. Not from fear, but anticipation, like her entire body was wired to be teased, edged, wrecked—and Allen was the only one who knew the codes to break her open.

He didn't kiss her. He just grabbed her hips and lifted her effortlessly, lining his still-wet cock up with her drooling slit. Her whole body quivered when she felt the head nudge her lips, but she didn't beg. Rinni never begged—she offered. Her pink eyes locked onto his, ears twitching high like antennae craving command.

"Breed your bunny," she whispered, voice high and trembling.

Allen grunted and pulled her down.

Rinni gasped, spine arching violently as his cock sank in. She was tight—but not because she was resisting. No, her walls welcomed him like a vice, like her whole body had been trained to squeeze down the second he entered. Her cunt fluttered around him with that desperate, trembling need only masochists had—the craving to be stretched, owned, ruined.

He bottomed out in one brutal thrust, and Rinni collapsed forward, moaning like an animal. Her breath was hot against his collarbone, her nails digging into his shoulders for something to hold onto as her hips started rocking, grinding down on him like she needed him deeper than deep.

Allen just leaned back, watching her move—watching his bunnygirl bounce on his lap, dripping onto his thighs as she rode him without shame. Her fluffy ears flopped back and forth with every thrust, her soft little body slapping down over and over, chasing pleasure like it was oxygen.

He grabbed one of her ears and tugged.

Rinni squealed.

Her pussy clenched violently around him, a gush of wetness coating his cock, and her body jolted like she'd been shocked. He didn't let go. He pulled her ear harder, twisting it, forcing her to tilt her head back until she was looking up at the ceiling, her throat exposed.

"Say what you are."

"I'm your cumslut!" she cried out, thighs shaking. "I'm a dumb bunny fuckpet—please, please ruin me!"

He slapped her ass hard enough to leave an instant red print. Her whole body jerked, cunt clamping even tighter, and she came.

Hard.

Rinni's scream echoed through the corrupted temple as her orgasm overtook her—her hips locking, her ears twitching violently, her whole body convulsing as Allen held her in place and let her ride it out. But he wasn't even close to done.

He stood up—with her still on his cock—and turned around, slamming her down onto the mossy stone altar where Niva was still drooling cum. Rinni's back hit the altar with a wet slap, and Allen yanked her legs up over his shoulders, folding her like a broken toy, her body displayed for all the other maids to see.

Then he fucked her.

No mercy. No pacing. Just full brutal force—balls slapping against her soaked ass, his cock jackhammering into her twitching cunt, over and over until her moans turned to broken little hiccups and gasps. Her tongue lolled out. Her eyes rolled back. Her tits bounced wildly with every thrust, and her hips tried to keep up, but she was too far gone.

One orgasm melted into another. Then another.

"Say it again," Allen growled, voice low and dangerous.

"I'm your c-cumslut," Rinni stammered, eyes glazed. "I was made for your cock, Master—ah! F-Fuck—please cum in me—fill me up like your bunny breeder—!"

Allen bared his teeth and slammed into her one last time, staying buried deep as he came inside her with a growl. His cock twitched violently, pumping thick loads straight into her womb as Rinni screamed in sheer ecstasy, her hands clawing at the altar, her legs wrapped tight around his back.

When he pulled out, her pussy was gaping and dripping white.

He let her slump back, twitching, blissed out.

But Allen didn't stop moving.

He turned his attention to Mira and Calla—both kneeling nearby, watching with trembling anticipation. Mira's dusky skin was flushed red, her thighs slick with need, and Calla was already rubbing herself with both hands, unable to stop shaking.

Allen pointed to the stone steps in front of the altar. "Get on all fours. Both of you."

They scrambled to obey.

Mira bent over first, presenting her full, curvy ass. Her long black hair spilled over her shoulder, and her tail twitched nervously. Beside her, Calla's smaller form quivered, her straw-blonde hair stuck to her forehead with sweat and tears. Both girls looked back at him—pleading, ready.

Allen grabbed Mira's hips first, slapping her ass with a loud crack before lining himself up and plunging in. Her moan was low, deep, nearly guttural. She was tight, hot, slick, and needy—and her body melted around him as he began to thrust.

Calla whined next to them, shifting impatiently, wanting to be next, but Allen kept his focus on Mira. He gripped her thick hips, slamming into her over and over, his cock punching against her deepest spots, her pussy squelching loudly with every stroke.

"Use me," she moaned. "Fuck me like the whore I am—ahhh—break me, Master—!"

He did.

He grabbed her hair, yanked her head back, and spat into her open mouth. She swallowed without question. Then he leaned down and whispered, "You're going to feel this in your guts for days."

She came instantly.

That twitch, that full-body jolt—he knew it. Her body wracked with waves, and Allen didn't stop. He fucked her through it, pounding her so hard her tits bounced against the stone steps until her arms gave out and she slumped forward, drooling and gasping, pussy still fluttering.

Allen pulled out and grabbed Calla next.

The young maid gasped, scrambling to lift her hips. She was already sobbing with desperation, and the moment he entered her, she shrieked—her cunt was narrow, untouched by anything like him, and she squeezed him like a vice.

He slowed for her.

Not gentle—but intentional. Letting her feel every inch as he worked her open. She cried into her arms, sobbing and moaning, her legs shaking as he began to move. Allen watched her closely—watched her fall apart—until her sobs turned to mewling, needy gasps and her hips started pushing back.

"You love this, don't you?" he growled, slapping her ass.

"Yes—yes—yes, please keep going—I need it—I need your cock—!"

Allen grabbed her by the throat, lifting her head just enough to whisper, "Then take every drop."

And when he came inside her, she screamed, her orgasm hitting like a lightning strike—knees buckling, tears spilling, her body convulsing in complete surrender.

When Allen finally pulled out, all five maids were marked. Filled. Shaking.

He stood on the altar, cock twitching, looking down at his work—dripping holes, ruined holes, trembling girls sprawled in obedience and filth.

And behind him, Fina clapped slowly, ears twitching.

"Now that's how you end a temple ritual."

Allen turned to her, panting, chest heaving.

"We're not done," he growled. "There's still one more girl left."

Fina blinked.

Then smirked.

And began to undress.

Fina let her clothes fall one piece at a time, not in a dance, not in a tease—just with that quiet, confident rhythm of someone who knew she was about to be wrecked and was already soaked thinking about it. Her dark skin glistened under the heat of the corrupted temple lights, her hips swaying like sin itself as she approached Allen across the slick stone floor, stepping over cum-drunk maids without even glancing down.

Allen's cock was still hard—angry hard—slick with a dozen orgasms, twitching with the primal command to keep going. His eyes locked onto Fina's—his woman, his equal, his sadist. She wasn't trembling like the others. She was burning.

Fina climbed the altar barefoot, lips parted, tongue sliding over them lazily. "You just ruined half a temple's worth of lizardfolk, then turned five maidholes into proper cumsluts," she murmured, standing right in front of him now. "But you saved your first girl for last, huh?"

Allen grabbed her by the waist, spun her, and bent her over the still-warm body of Mira, who moaned weakly beneath her. Fina let out a delighted gasp, bracing her hands on Mira's back, her ass high, tail flicking like a whip.

"I saved the best," Allen growled.

He didn't ease in. He plunged—his cock spearing into her already-slick pussy, the sound of her wetness echoing like a clap through the altar chamber. Fina let out a sharp cry, back arching, and her tail stiffened as her body swallowed him whole.

"Oh fuck, yes—yes, finally—" she gasped, grinding back.

He grabbed her throat from behind and yanked her upright, fucking her against his body as her moans turned into feral sounds. Fina wasn't like the others—there was no breaking her. You just unleashed her.

Allen felt it instantly—how her cunt pulsed with practiced clenching, her hips perfectly timed to slap back into his with brutal rhythm. They moved together like beasts, like addicts, like two matching storms slamming into each other with obscene force. The altar rocked beneath them.

He reached around and twisted her nipple hard.

Fina screamed, legs shaking. "More! Pull harder—mark me!"

Allen leaned in and bit her shoulder, deep enough to leave a bruise. Fina shuddered violently, and her pussy clamped down like a vice, milking him in rhythmic pulses. But she didn't stop pushing back. Her hands clawed at the altar, her voice a steady stream of praise and filth and unfiltered need.

"You fuck me like you own the gods," she moaned, head thrown back. "Like this whole world's just holes waiting for you—ahhh, yes—fuck, Allen—fill me!"

He snarled against her skin. "You want it in your cunt?"

She nodded fast, ears flattened. "Yes! Breed me—make me feel it for days—"

He pulled out.

Fina's head whipped around, eyes wide in disbelief—but before she could curse, Allen grabbed her by the ears and shoved her down onto Mira's ass, then mounted her again, this time sliding his cock straight into her ass.

"Allen—!" Fina choked, eyes rolling back. "Y-you bastard—!"

Her words were cut off by the thick stretch, her body tensing violently as he bottomed out. She was tight as hell, her ass clenching down like a vice, and Allen felt every twitch, every tremble as he started thrusting again—slow at first, then brutal.

"Thought you deserved a real stretch," he muttered into her ear. "That pussy's too used to me."

Fina sobbed. Not from pain. From pure, filthy bliss.

Her hands clawed down Mira's back as Allen fucked her ass raw, each thrust punching the air out of her lungs, her moans getting louder and less coherent by the second. He grabbed her hair and yanked her head back, watching her tears stream down as she gasped and screamed.

And then he spat into her mouth.

She swallowed on instinct—moaning through it—then came.

Hard.

Her whole body convulsed around his cock, her ass squeezing him so tight he nearly lost control right there. He held her in place, grinding deep, watching the ripples of her orgasm roll through her like a storm tide, and only when she was trembling did he let go.

He pulled out of her wrecked ass and grabbed her by the jaw, lifting her face.

"You still want to be bred?"

Fina blinked at him, dazed, tears dripping down her cheeks. "Y-yes… please…"

Allen shoved her down flat on her back atop Mira, lifted her legs, and lined up again—this time, back in her pussy.

He fucked her with pure, savage rhythm—no teasing, no buildup, just thrust after thrust after thrust, each one deeper than the last. Fina's body opened for him like a temple, soaked and clenching, her belly bulging with every thrust.

The others watched from the floor—Rinni sprawled and twitching, Calla barely conscious, Mira moaning softly beneath Fina, Niva with cum still leaking down her thighs. Brin was the only one still kneeling properly, eyes wide, mouth open, touching herself without permission.

Allen glanced at her.

"Touch yourself faster," he growled.

Brin whimpered and obeyed.

Fina's moans turned broken again, her voice cracking with every stroke. "Allen—Allen, I'm gonna—I'm gonna cum—oh fuck, I'm gonna—!"

He didn't stop. He slammed in one final time, hips grinding, and he came—cock pulsing violently, flooding her womb with thick, hot spurts that made her scream and clutch at him like she was drowning in pleasure.

Their bodies locked together, twitching, sweat-slicked and shaking.

When he finally pulled out, cum gushed from her hole like an offering.

Allen stumbled back a step, panting.

Around him, the temple was silent—except for the heavy breathing, the quiet moans, the dripping. The once-holy ground was desecrated, soaked in filth, bodies strewn across the stone like offerings to a dark god.

He stood over them all—dominant, still hard, still hungry.

The high priestess hadn't even arrived yet.

And when she did?

She'd be next.