[ Sagu: 5 AM ]
A disheveled Oga walked through the grand gates of the Vinci compound, his clothes soaked with blood, and his appearance untamed. Balanced upon his shoulder was a massive Dreadscale Crock, weighing a staggering 500 pounds.
"Summon a few men to aid and deliver this to the kitchen staff," Oga commanded, leaving the guards who had poised to draw their blades just moments before in a state of astonishment.
Concerned voices chimed in, "Shouldn't you seek medical attention?" Yet, Oga dismissed these inquiries with a mere wave of his hand.
Without further delay, Oga proceeded towards the tranquil courtyard, designated as a retreat for both him and Yaya.
As he traversed the threshold of his chamber, a captivating sight unfolded before him. There knelt Yaya, her form adorned with scented oils that cast a seductive allure.
"Why are you still awake?" Oga's voice held a mixture of surprise and curiosity.
Yaya's response was as silent as her gaze, void of questions regarding his blood-soaked attire or the faint scent of singed flesh that clung to him. Gracefully, she rose from her kneeling position, moving to disrobe Oga.
First, she removed his outer garments, then his boots and sword, carefully arranging them in their respective places. In a matter-of-fact manner, Yaya undressed Oga until he stood exposed before her, bearing the scars of his endeavors.
A brief span of time slipped by, and Oga discovered himself enfolded within the soothing balm of healing ointment provided by the Alchemist.
The sensation proved nothing short of exquisite, heightened by the comforting press of Yaya's gentle bosom against his skin. "Rest and relinquish your cares to me," Yaya murmured her words a soft lullaby.
Oga's weariness overpowered any response he could muster; his thoughts drifted into a profound slumber, cradled in the devoted embrace of Yaya's tender care. With each touch, the weight of exhaustion melted away.
Thus Oga succumbed to sleep's embrace for a continuous thirteen-hour span, oblivious to the arrival of the Duchess's emissary.
He awoke only as dusk began to settle.
"At last, you are awake, and it appears your scars and wounds have vanished," Yaya observed.
"What hour is it?" Oga inquired, as he sluggishly tossed aside the bedsheet, finding himself nude and fully mast.
"You slept through the morning, and now the stars read six in the evening," Yaya replied, a subtle blush tinging her cheeks.
"Has anyone come searching for me?" Oga inquired, his raised eyebrow revealing his curiosity. Yaya paused thoughtfully, "It's rather difficult to converse with that thing staring me down. Allow me to calm it down," Yaya suggested.
Oga found no reason to decline the offer from such a beauty.
"Madame has dispatched a servant to summon you for lunch. Yet, given your prolonged slumber, I deemed it more appropriate to postpone the invitation until dinner. Would that timing be convenient for you?" Oga nodded in appreciation, his gratitude evident without the necessity of words.
Yaya's mind drifted back to the moment when Oga had slipped into a deep slumber. For thirty minutes, she had engaged in the task of extracting his essence, yet despite her efforts, he had exhibited an abundance that surpassed all expectations.
Not only had his manhood remained impressively rigid, but it had continued to release its seed.
Yaya's contemplations led her to acknowledge the remarkable anomaly of Oga's stamina and virility, surpassing any encountered before.
Yaya was no stranger to intimacy. She was well aware that the endurance and output displayed by the twins transcended the norm, not to mention their impressive tools.
'It became even more fiendish…Wait did it lengthen?' Yaya mused.
Her gaze descended to where Oga's substantial 10 ½ -inch member stood proudly erect.
A few breaths later, Oga found his manhood nestled between the butt-naked, oiled-up breast of Yaya.
"I almost forgot," Yaya spoke softly, diverting her attention from her previous task. "We were graced with esteemed guests' presence early this morning. They arrived to offer their condolences."
Intrigue sparked in Oga's eyes as he inquired, "Could you shed some light on the identities of these visitors?" He emitted a satisfied hum, relishing both Yaya's skillful touch and the enticing movement of her tongue against his member.
"As far as I know," Yaya continued, her voice composed and steady, "among the guests were none other than the Consort of Duchess Rina and her Advisor, Knox," Yaya disclosed, although her expression hinted at her dissatisfaction with these particular visitors.
It didn't take much for Oga to pick up on Yaya's feelings. Simultaneously, he felt a pang of disappointment – 'The Raging Storm' hadn't come herself; she had sent only her lowly consort to a house that remained loyal to her. 'I suppose the rumors about this haughty woman hold true,' Oga pondered.
However, dwelling on such a cold demeanor was a waste of time now. "You don't seem pleased by their visit," Oga inquired.
"No need to worry. It was mostly the unsettling gazes from the men in their entourage that bothered me. Aside from that, they left our courtyard without incident.
However, at the luncheon, the Duchess' Consort directed some rather inappropriate comments towards Lady Emily, which angered Froh."
"Please tell me he didn't," Oga's voice conveyed a mix of disbelief and irritation.
"Rest assured, Lady Emily handled his remarks with grace, diffusing the situation, as I was informed." Yaya gave her report, her bosom maintaining its rhythmic bounce.
"You showed remarkable composure. I suspect there's more to their provocation than you're revealing," Oga remarked, noticing Yaya's widened eyes.
It wasn't difficult for him to deduce what might have transpired – an attractive busty, voluptuous mortal woman left unattended in a courtyard. The outcome was clear.
The truth was, if not for Madame Cynthia's timely intervention, Yaya might have faced a grave violation.
"This slight will not go unanswered, so leave it to me," Oga said
Oga's ability to see through her attempt to downplay the incident, while still treating her with respect, reaffirmed Yaya's confidence in him.
As a gesture of gratitude, the pace of her breast's along his shaft quickened.
Oga's responses evolved into an orchestra of primal sounds – a symphony of grunts and sighs – harmonizing with Yaya.
"..."
Observing her actions, Oga chose to shift the topic, steering away from the current train of thought. "Speaking of which, what about the Orcs and the old fellow? Have their relocations been finalized?" he inquired.
"Concerning the Orcs, they have been securely stowed aboard the vessel. As for the Alchemist, he's settled in the adjoining room, ready and awaiting departure" Yaya conveyed seamlessly, her thoughts transitioning effortlessly.
"Your dedication has been truly exceptional. Following the dinner, we shall take our leave, " Oga warmly commended. His demeanor exuded appreciation as he released a torrent of essence upon Yaya's bosom and countenance.
The tenderness of the moment merged with an affectionate ambiance, persisting as he observed her eagerly savoring every droplet.
"Shall I prepare your bath for the gathering?"
"Wouldn't you care to accompany me? Let us proceed to the bath together. I am in need of some support," Oga chuckled unabashedly.
As he watched her expression change, even after her attentions of the previous night and her current display, Oga remained still at full mast. Yaya was left astounded, her mouth agape.
"Milord, you're preparing to venture forth without your robe," Yaya called out, a hint of concern in her voice.
Oga turned back, a mischievous grin gracing his lips, and responded, "After all the shared moments between us, Yaya, it feels rather strange to be addressed as 'Milord.'
You're far more than a mere servant or a slave; you hold a significant position within my Household, your status as a Night Wench only ranking below that of a retainer."
"Still, I've noticed that Sir. Yanis addresses you formally. It just doesn't sit well with me," Yaya argued.
"Ah, Yanis is quite the rigid individual," Oga mused, his eyes narrowing. "If I didn't know any better, I'd suspect he derives some perverse pleasure from addressing us in such a manner. But let's not dwell on that. Please, let go of these formalities.
Just call me Oga. Our bond has grown strong enough to allow for such familiarity, wouldn't you agree?" His gaze playfully shifted towards her neckline, prompting a delicate blush to rise.
Yaya accepted Oga's outstretched hand, only to be caught in his embrace.
With a playful grin, Oga's nimble fingers graze over her tender nipples, causing a quiver to course through her legs. Not only was she experiencing an assault on her breast, but Oga's girthy meat stick nestled snugly between her ass
"Merciful Lucrezia," Yaya gasped, her voice breathless and her words barely escaping her lips, "What is happening to me?" The sensation was overwhelming, a surge of stimulation that seemed to be unraveling her senses.
"Please, Oga," Yaya implored with a soft plea, "The adjacent veranda...he might stumble upon us." Yaya's hands instinctively moved, attempting to suppress the fervent moans that threatened to break free.
However, in her attempt to do so, she inadvertently left her lower half vulnerable. Seizing the opportunity, Oga's finger slipped beneath her already moist entrance.
His voice exuded casual confidence as he gently parted the petals of her flower. "So what?" he asserted.
Yaya's composure shattered as his wickedly vibrating fingers pushed her to the precipice of pleasure. Her knees buckled under the relentless assault, her body quivering like a mare in heat.
"Exquisite," Oga murmured appreciatively, his finger briefly grazing his lips, savoring the taste. "Shall we continue?" he suggested in a low, inviting whisper.
"Bathhouse, not here," Yaya cried out.
"Hehe"
Their unclothed forms crossed the threshold, only to encounter the 172 cm figure of Mendy.
The startle Mendy, found herself gazing up like a deer caught in a headlight.
Mendy could barely form words, her lips unknowingly drew dangerously close to yielding to an impulsive urge.
Before such a reckless notion could take hold, Yaya audaciously grasped Oga's arousal, asserting her presence.
"You're remarkably daring," Yaya commented, her gaze fixed on Mendy, her grip unyielding.
Inadvertently, Mendy's gaze was drawn towards the engorged flesh held within Yaya's grasp.
She remained indifferent to Yaya's opinion, her attention solely captured by the scene before her.
"Inform Cynthia that a slight delay might occur. There's no need for her to wait," Oga instructed Mendy.
With his departure, Mendy was left suspended in contemplation, lost in her own thoughts.
Mendy's petite frame stood frozen in awe, prompting her to contemplate the feasibility of accommodating such an imposing appendage. Gradually, the reasoning behind Lord Oga's choice of companion became clear to her, "The busty, big-breasted type, that must be his preference."
With that kind of package and aesthetic. She too would prefer women of such stature. Ordinary women, much like herself, would undoubtedly find themselves confined to a bed or pounded to death.
Mendy could only look at her frame and laugh, "No wonder the madame can't get enough. The crazy bitch keeps trying to get him to come over….Damn, I need a man." Mendy watch the departing duo, "Lucky bitch."
…..
Oga turned to the floating Yaya, his finger now exploring her asshole. He chuckled, "Was it really that dreadful?" His twisted smile revels in the softness, all while enjoying the entrancing rhythm of Yaya's breasts bouncing with great fanfare as her eyes roll back.
Yaya's cheeks flushed a deeper shade of red as the playful yet unceasing spanking and thrusting warmed her skin.
She was thoroughly embarrassed. Not only was she not being allowed to walk, but this man was simply too good.
A mixture of shame and ecstasy washed over her, creating an extraordinary blend of emotions with each firm spanking. Despite its unconventional nature, this situation carried an undeniable sense of liberation.
This incident resurfaced a memory from that game. Yet, the context had shifted; no longer confined to a private space where nudity was inconsequential and judgments absent. Now, they stood in a public setting, and Oga seemed to have ventured into a realm of unbridled abandon.
They simply merged with the embrace of nature, an unprecedented experience for Yaya, whereas Oga, sensed an electrifying exhilaration coursing through his veins – reminiscent of the fervor during a night of revelry.
"Yes, this is precisely it," Oga uttered softly, his voice carrying a hint of affirmation.
As moments slipped by like the trickle of water, Yaya remained wordless, her thoughts weaving a silent tapestry of contemplation.
Before too long, the two found themselves within the sanctuary of the bathhouse. A sprawling pool of water stretched before them, its sizeable expanse bordered by a floor of meticulously arranged tiles.
Attendants moved gracefully, extending towels with a sense of practiced elegance, ensuring that every detail of their surroundings contributed to a sense of luxurious comfort.
"What shall we do next?" Yaya inquired, her voice brimming with curiosity.
Her question was met with an immediate response. Oga's lips gently pressed against hers, their bodies entwined with urgency.
"Let's explore further," Oga suggested, his tone commanding yet considerate, sending a subtle thrill down her spine.
Yaya's fingers gently found their place against the bathhouse wall, her body responding eagerly to every tender touch, every whispered sensation that Oga's caress ignited.
With a seamless, graceful motion, Oga's presence teased against her moist entrance, evoking a plea from Yaya that trembled in the air as her hips quivered.
Moved by the earnestness in her voice, Oga yielded, his entry into her accompanied by a soft sigh from Yaya, which then transformed into a primal moan of pleasure.
The ambient light within the bathhouse painted intricate patterns on their entwined figures, casting dancing shadows that mirrored their intimate actions: Yaya, face down, hips up, hands resting behind her back as the visceral sound of her ass clapping.
Yaya's body grew warmer with each thrust, his seed would spray against her walls, the pendulum slapping of her breasts accompanied, her boisterous shout of liberation.
Oga's girthy meat drove Yaya into a frenzy, her desires overtaking her senses.
"Have I taken you to the root?" she barely managed to utter, her breath catching.
Oga's response was soft and carried an undertone of satisfaction.
"Walking might prove difficult if you did" he replied
His gaze downward confirming his deep engagement with Yaya's moist pussy.
Yaya's disbelief found voice in her protest. "How can there be more? I've taken you in as far as I can," she exclaimed.
Amusement laced Oga's voice, "Your hips betray your words. And if you can spare the breath to argue, perhaps I'm not fulfilling my role properly," his hands shifting to lift Yaya from her hips. In this new position, Yaya's ample bosom pressed against Oga's chest while her legs nestled around his hips.
Soon enough her head boobed like crazy, Oga's relentless pace evoking sensations that had her senses reeling.
The encounter had shifted from the wall to the pool, her body now submerged as his powerful thrusts continued creating even more lewd noises.
Yaya's pleasure crescendoed, her voice blending with the sounds of their passion to create a symphony of ecstasy.
Climax followed climax as the intensity built, each moment marked by a new wave of pleasure until Yaya found herself repeatedly calling out 'daddy, Oga.'
Her back had thoroughly been blown out, and her walls were painted white.
Yaya could barely stand or speak, only gaze up obediently as he showered her with the last droplet.
"Not bad for a warm-up, wouldn't you say?"
"...."
Time flowed effortlessly, transforming minutes into hours. As Oga emerged from his leisurely soak in the bathhouse, he found himself seated across from Cynthia at the dining table.
A palpable tension hung in the air, accentuated by the unspoken dynamics of the moment.
"Dinner was slated for 7, and now the clock chimes 9, everyone has departed and the food is cold" Cynthia stated, her voice matter-of-fact, her expression unyielding.
"Hehe, I was lost in a deep meditation, you know how it goes," Oga responded with a nonchalant grin. He pulled her chair closer to him, seizing a fork and placing it gently before Cynthia.
Cynthia's eyes flickered, emotions swirling beneath her composed exterior. Her lips parted as if to respond, but words remained trapped.
"You're just too much," rather than going for the food, the wench stole his lips, only for Oga to brace himself and tossed her up on the dining table, the sound of plates and food falling to the floor, as they unbuttoned each other clothing.