NTR: Stealing wives in Another World
Chapter 87: Arrogance isn’t good(Heavy smut 18+)

Chapter 87: Arrogance isn’t good(Heavy smut 18+)

Allen’s eyes drifted lazily over Elira, his tone amused and low.

"Well? Why aren’t you fingering yourself?"

Elira flinched—still kneeling, brush in hand, her thighs slick with shame, breath shallow. Her face flushed deeper, yet her fingers remained frozen at her sides.

"I-I..." she stammered. "I was focusing on the calligraphy..."

Allen arched a brow. "Cute. But that brush isn’t the only thing that’s supposed to be dripping."

Behind him, the wet slap of flesh on flesh still echoed off the chamber walls. Lira, or what was left of her, twitched as the three elders took turns ravaging the last scraps of her dignity.

Doel had her saggy breasts in a vice grip, his knuckles white as he pinched and twisted them like dough, snarling with each yank.

"Say it again," he growled. "Say what this saggy milk bag is for!"

Lira squealed, tongue flopping from her mouth. "F-for squeezing! For tugging! F-for—ahhn—slapping!"

Jass didn’t wait for permission. He slammed a boot into her exposed cunt—once, twice, a third time—until her legs spasmed and her piss sprayed weakly down her thighs.

"Old bitch leaks like a broken wineskin," he muttered, and kicked her again just to hear the squelch.

And Yoru? Yoru was seated—no, throned—on her face. His aged hips bucked as he skull-fucked her with wild abandon, sweat dripping from his gray hair, cock battering her throat like a piston from the gods of hate-fucking themselves.

"She laughed at me," he muttered over and over, fingers digging into her thinning white hair. "She laughed at me..."

Lira’s moans came muffled from beneath his balls. Choking, sputtering, smiling.

Allen turned back to Elira with a lazy grin. "You were saying?"

Elira’s breath caught, her eyes wide with a blend of horror and arousal. Still, she found her voice—shaky, but laced with cold warning.

"You’re playing a dangerous game, Allen," she whispered.

"Oh?" he said with mock interest. "Do tell. Is this the part where I’m supposed to feel bad?"

"The Rhelgar family," she hissed. "They won’t let this go. You’ve humiliated their name. Broken their lady. Crushed their knights’ balls into pudding. This isn’t over."

Allen leaned in with a dramatic gasp, hand to his chest. "No... not pudding! Anything but pudding!"

He tilted his head, eyes sparkling with sarcasm. "Come on, Elira. You think I’m scared of those powdered-wig inbreds with limp swords and weaker balls? I could sneeze and rupture another noble bloodline."

Behind him, Lira gurgled something wet and obscene around Yoru’s cock. Allen didn’t even glance back.

"You think they’ll hunt me?" he mused aloud. "Maybe they’ll send another knight. Maybe two. Big shiny breastplates. Boring speeches. Clank clank clank."

He mimed jerking off and blowing a raspberry. "And I’ll send them home in jars."

Elira swallowed hard, her brush trembling again.

"But you," Allen said, leaning closer. "You’re still hesitating."

She looked up.

"You warned me. You tried to act brave. But your thighs are still soaked. And you haven’t even started touching yourself."

He gave her a slow, cruel smile. "Are you waiting for permission... or hoping to be punished?"

Elira’s breath hitched.

Her hand—shaking—lowered between her legs. She moaned as her fingers slipped inside, slick with need she couldn’t deny anymore.

Allen gave a satisfied hum.

"There she is," he murmured. "My little ink slut with a mouth full of threats and a cunt full of lies."

"Lira’s getting kicked in the pussy for being old," he added thoughtfully. "So if you don’t want to join her, you’d better start earning your ink."

Elira whimpered. And obeyed.

Behind them, Yoru roared, emptying one last load into Lira’s ruined throat before collapsing backward with a grunt. Jass gave one last foot to her twitching mound, then turned to Allen.

"She’s done," he said, breath ragged. "Cracked open like a dried seedpod."

Doel gave Lira’s tits a farewell slap. "Waste not, want not."

Allen stretched lazily, cracking his neck. "Cool. Wash her down, throw her in a sunbeam. She can dry like jerky."

He turned back to Elira, who was moaning softly now, one hand still between her legs, the other dragging the ink brush across her stomach with shaky care.

Allen reached down and tilted her chin up.

"You warned me about the Rhelgars," he said. "But maybe you should be warning them about me."

Then he stepped back.

"And now... write this across your forehead."

"And now... write this across your forehead."

She blinked up at him, flushed, fingers sticky.

"What?"

Allen grinned.

"THE RHELGAR CUMDUMP WRITES HER OWN DOOM."

Elira’s lip trembled.

Then she dipped the brush... and obeyed.

Elira had just finished dragging the humiliating phrase across her own forehead, her ink-stained fingers trembling, her breath ragged from self-pleasure and shame.

And that’s when the chamber doors creaked open.

SLAM.

Fina strutted in like the absolute menace she was half-naked, smug, and absolutely radiating chaotic brat energy. Behind her, shuffling on bruised knees, were five naked Rhelgar maids—all of them flushed, panting, wrecked. Their arms were bound behind their backs in tight rope loops, their eyes wide and glossy. The skin along their hips, thighs, and breasts was mottled with fresh red marks—bites, bruises, handprints—and most damning of all...

Their pussies were puffy, flushed, and twitching.

Some of them whimpered just seeing Allen. One tried to cross her legs. Couldn’t. Another drooled quietly down her chin, eyes flicking between his face and his cock like she was waiting for judgment or mercy—or both.

They all knelt the moment they saw him.

Whump. Whump. Whump.

Five soft thuds in perfect, degraded sync.

Fina sauntered up beside them, wiping her hands like she’d just finished gardening.

"Hey babe," she said, all casual, lips curled into a devious smirk. "Brought some presents."

Allen raised an eyebrow, glancing at the poor wrecks behind her. "These the maids that were giving you trouble?"

"Mhm," Fina chirped. "They were real mouthy at first. Acted like they still had status. Like the Rhelgar name meant something."

She giggled. "So I reminded them that this—" she slapped one of the maid’s thighs, making her yelp and tremble—"is all they’re allowed to carry now."

Allen eyed the swollen, twitching pussies and cocked his head. "Why do their pussy look like angry strawberries?"

Fina beamed, brushing her hair back proudly.

"I used our old itching leaf on them, Allen."

His brows shot up.

"The one that makes your clit feel like it’s fighting a hornet?"

"Yup!" Fina said sweetly. "Crushed the leaves, added a little oil, rubbed it alll over their lower lips. Told ’em not to cum or rub themselves... or the itching gets worse."

Allen let out a low whistle. "You sadistic little forest gremlin."

One of the maids whimpered. "P-please... m-my pussy... it won’t stop burning..."

"Then maybe next time you won’t try to tattle on your master to the knights," Fina snapped, hands on her hips. "Stupid sow."

Another maid gasped. "W-we were loyal... w-we didn’t know...!"

Allen chuckled darkly. "You knew exactly what kind of bitch Lady Rhelgar was. And you knew exactly what you were serving."

He stepped forward, slowly circling them like a wolf among rabbits.

"You just didn’t expect the world to flip," he murmured. "Didn’t expect me."

One of the maids sobbed. "W-we’ll be good! We’ll do anything! Just please... the itching—!"

Fina leaned down and whispered in her ear, "You’ll earn relief, slut. If Allen even wants to give it to you."

Then she looked up at him with a gleam in her eye.

"Wanna make ’em prove it?"

Allen smirked.

"Oh yeah," he said. "Let’s see what a Rhelgar maid’ll do for a little mercy."

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