"Only from behind! I don't want to risk getting pregnant," Xena spoke shyly.
Yet, half an hour later, the agreement faded. It wasn't Nuu who pushed the boundary; Instead, her Sylvanid bloodline—surrendered. Caught in a wave of liberation, Xena found herself entirely overcome, the intensity of the moment pulling her far beyond her initial resolve.
Meanwhile within the Family Dining Hall
Oga sat quietly, his eyes fixed on Yvette as she ate at the far end of the table. This was the fourth time he had arranged such an awkward dinner, remaining silent as she dined and immersing himself in his paperwork.
For Yvette, it was maddening. She had always been the center of attention, accustomed to admiration and praise.
Yet here was this man, carving out time from her runic experiment, gifting her elegant clothing, even helping her prepare for an evening of music and food—though she couldn't deny a small thrill in the anticipation.
Not that she'd ever admit it to him. And still, he would sit there, saying nothing, offering only his quiet presence. When the meal concluded, he would simply bid her good night..
But the most unsettling part was how, each time they dined together, a strange warmth crept over her. The feeling left her restless, as though her body had a mind of its own.
As she finished her meal, Oga gave his usual nod, a silent signal for goodnight.
Frustrated, Yvette stood abruptly. "Are you going to keep doing this?"
Silence met her challenge.
"Humph. Let's see how long you can keep up that indifference," she muttered to herself, walking away.
"Potter, what's the situation with the Mertaru?" Oga inquired
Potter responded quickly, "Milord, they're exploring the land and assisting with the construction. As per your instruction, they're being treated with a great deal of respect."
"Good. Whatever they need, make sure it's done. If there's an issue, come find me." Oga instructed, his voice firm.
Not long after, Hilda entered the room with a graceful step.
"Potter, help the Consort out of her silk," Oga instructed his voice even and commanding.
Potter was initially stunned with eyes widening, yet he dared not delay
Potter moved to comply, hands slightly trembling as he carefully undid each layer of Hilda's garment. With every fold of fabric that peels away, his mouth salivated.
Despite his reverence for her as the wife of Sir Phi, a host of questions flooded his mind, yet none could overshadow the undeniable sexual appeal.
Wait—was she even a dwarf? Her height alone took him by surprise. 'She was no different than a short human.'
Consort Hilda had an exotic appearance; her fiery red hair was captivating, leaving anyone who saw her momentarily stunned.
The simple truth was that most female dwarves were not considered conventionally attractive and tended to be quite muscular.
"Ahem, Milord… Consort Hilda!" Potter stammered, quickly stepping away, his cheeks flushed with both wonder and restraint.
Before him, Hilda stood revealed, an arresting figure draped in the bare essentials: her delicate thong snuggled between her ass, a satin bra scarcely veiled her bosom. Her intoxicating, each graceful line and contour a sensuous feast.
Potter's audible gulp echoes throughout the hall.
"You don't seem interested in the meal, Potter," Oga teased, a faint smile playing at his lips.
"I wouldn't dare Milord!" Potter hastily said
"If I may be bold, this wench desires only to treat her lordship, for his hospitable reception!" Hilda replied, her voice soft but with an edge of unspoken intent. She would not entertain a lowly servant.
Oga leaned forward, his gaze intent. "Mmmh, and how do you intend to go about it?"
"It is best if the 'help' was to leave, I promise House Master wouldn't regret it!" she replied a hint of playfulness in her tone.
"Potter, you're dismissed….Seek out, Laura!" Oga said smoothly.
Potter needed no clarification, to receive such a reward he was in awe.
Potter swallowed, casting one last, longing glance at Hilda. He knew better than to give voice to the thoughts swirling in his mind, though they whispered at him all the same. 'What I would give for a single night,' he thought, yet dared not utter before he quickly turned and exited the room.
Now alone, Lord Oga leaned back in his grand chair, his powerful frame relaxed yet commanding.
Hilda held his gaze, her own eyes glancing briefly at his open tunic, sensing the invitation in his posture.
"Help yourself," Oga said, his attention shifting momentarily to the papers before him.
Hilda needed no further encouragement; she was practically salivating in anticipation. Yet, to Oga's surprise, the slurping he expected didn't come.
Instead, Hilda had poured a thick, sticky gel onto his fat cock.
The coolness, her hands gently squeezing and tugging away at his testis, as her eyes never left his.
Oga could feel the build-up, this would more than likely be his biggest load.
"You've improved greatly," Oga complimented, clearly enjoying Hilda's attentive massage. "I thank his lordship…' Hilda's smile of excitement says it all, she enjoyed stroking this fiendish meat.
Oga placed down the last piece of parchment. "Have you truly given up on the Night Wench position?"
"...."
"I still respect my husband…" Hilda murmured, her voice barely audible. "I know it may sound foolish…" She hesitated, feeling the weight of her words, her thoughts a tangle of conflicting loyalties and emotions.
Gathering her courage, she looked up, her gaze revealing a vulnerability she rarely allowed herself to show.
"In truth," she began, her voice trembling as her cheeks flushed with color, "I didn't know this side of me existed until I met you and your brother." Her eyes flickered downward, unable to hold his gaze.
"Since then, it's been harder to function—harder to feel like myself. Perhaps this won't make sense to you, but during those weeks you were gone, I nearly drained the life out of my husband trying to recapture it. Even then... I couldn't feel it."
Her confession hung in the air, fragile yet unrelenting. She turned her face away, shame etched across her features.
"It's gotten so bad that even the faintest whiff of the rod stirs something inside me," Hilda admitted, her voice trembling.
"It might sound ridiculous, but my sense of smell has become so heightened that it makes my mouth water."
"What do you mean?" Oga asked, his tone cautious. A flicker of unease crossed his face. Is she exhibiting traits of a Rare Human? he wondered.
This was peculiar—humans were the only species known to possess the enigmatic K-genotype.
Hilda hesitated, then sighed deeply. "I think it started a few days ago when Yimir came to visit the compound.
I wasn't even near the gate while they were talking, but his scent—it was overwhelming. A strong, manly aroma, as if something primal and serpentine was drilling its way into me. I felt like I was drowning." She let out a bitter laugh.
"Maybe I'm just a pathetic woman searching for excuses, imagining a man like him—a behemoth of power—having his way with me."
Oga remained silent, his calm, unwavering presence like an anchor amidst the storm of her confession. He understood far more than she realized.
She's exhibiting heightened senses, even to the point of projection, he noted inwardly. I need to discuss this with Zamira.
For now, he set this revelation aside, tucking it into the recesses of his mind for later reflection.
During his previous discussion, Phi had spoken to him in hushed tones about his wife's increased appetite.
The intensity of Hilda's strokes did not go unnoticed—the way her fingers moved with unspoken yearning, the unguarded longing for a force greater than herself to take hold.
It was a thread he had seen before, woven into the women who shared their bed: a quiet but unyielding desire to surrender completely.
"And what if I desired to… make you mine in every way?" he suggested quietly, his gaze steady.
Hilda's eyes widened, her cheeks growing hotter. "My lord…"
Oga continued before she could respond further. "I'm not jesting. Nor should you worry about Brother Phi…
I've read the reports on Yeli. You're not only a devoted mother but also one capable of producing remarkable offspring. Do you not desire a higher place in life?"
"Are you asking me to become your concubine?" she whispered in astonishment, struggling to understand the implications.
"I would, if not for your bond with Nuu… What I offer instead is the position you once declined but without restrictions. You're free to keep your marriage to Phi or sleep with whoever.
However, you will serve House Thornbrick and look out for our best interest, even if said interest doesn't benefit you: I would extend your lifespan for as long as I can as a reward. But should you decline this offer, that would end our relationship." Oga's voice was calm, yet firm.
"Have I offended you, my lord?" Hilda stammered, her hands clasped tightly.
A low grunt escapes Oga.
"Not at all. It would simply be a waste not to impregnate you," Oga said, watching her closely.
"I'm flattered," she replied meekly, "but my husband... he would kill me if he found out!"
"Leave Brother Phi to me," Oga replied. "I'll ensure he's absent during your pregnancy, keeping him thoroughly occupied.
Think about it, Hilda. If we had truly wanted you to carry our seed, you would have been pregnant long ago. However, I advised Nuu to withhold the spark of life."
Hilda fell silent, pacing the room as she wrestled with the weight of his proposal. After a time, she stopped, realization dawning in her eyes.
"If his lordship will accept this unfaithful woman," she said, her voice steady, "then I shall serve you and your descendant!"
Oga's eyes softened, "Good Good….You can continue!"
Half an Hour later, Hilda found her breast and face bathed in thick ropes of batter.
"I would love to indulge, but a visitor is due to arrive soon. Perhaps a month from now. I have prepared a special reward just for you!"
"For me?" Hilda inquired, yet the excitement couldn't be hidden
"You're going to need to rest up the coming weeks," Oga suggested
"Just ten minutes….." Hilda requested
Oga chuckled, though his smile held a spark of intrigue. "Very well."
Not a second later, Hilda felt her vaginal walls clamping down for dear life,
Oga's fat cock was simply too much for her tight pussy, with each thrust causing her to gasp.
"It's gotten even bigger than last…" Hilda lost consciousness with those words
Those ten minutes passed in a whirlwind, leaving them both with a shared, unspoken understanding.
She needed more training….
Truth be told, Hilda wasn't the problem. Oga and Nuu were simply growing at an alarming rate.
As she prepared to depart, Oga took a moment to compliment her.
"I truly enjoy your company, Hilda. And you look especially captivating tonight," Oga said with a warm smile. "Don't forget... keep them in until next month."
Hilda's heart skipped a beat, her cheeks flushing as a soft smile spread across her lips. She nodded, her movements a little unsteady as she walked away with 10-anal beads.
Not long after Hilda's departure, a middle-aged woman entered the hall, strikingly resembling Priscilla. However, this woman was different unlike the voluptuous Priscilla, who had dual horns and an imposing presence.
She had no horns, her bust was modest but noticeable, and she bore a unique feature—sharp, canine-like teeth reminiscent of a vampire.
Her figure was remarkable in its way, her curvaceous silhouette rivaling even the shapely Madame Zamira.
"You've arrived much earlier than your letter….What has changed?" Oga stood up and walked towards Dahlia, forgetting to tie up his tunic.
"I have tarried here far longer than thou, and have borne witness to many wondrous deeds, good Sir Oga.
Not only hast thou kept thy word, but thou hast tended my niece with utmost care. Yet, thy response within the parchment hath grieved me deeply." Her words were steeped in the cadence of olden speech.
"I sincerely seek your forgiveness. If I have given you such an impression, it was never my intent. I do not wish to deceive you," Oga said, his voice steady, though his words carried an undercurrent of tension.
"I have no intention of making you the Madame. If you're willing, the title of Consort is the best I can offer."
Oga stood his ground, his gaze fixed on Dahlia—a woman whose beauty and allure were so captivating that lesser men might have abandoned everything, even their closest bonds..
"Thou art not as thy brother... Even now, thou dost utter such words. Dost thou not fear that I might sunder our pact and return unto mine own tribe?" Dahlia spoke with a voice soft as the whispering wind.
Yet her mischievous hands were already resting upon Oga's girth with practice ease.
"If it is your wish to do so, I shall not hinder you. Yet, I do not believe you are that kind of woman," Oga responded.
"And what manner of woman am I?" Dahlia inquired, a smile playing upon her lips.
"A woman of great passion!" Oga declared, his words ringing through the air.
Their laughter erupted, echoing through the hall, a shared moment of pure mirth.
When the laughter finally died down, the air thickened with the weight of unspoken desire.
Dahlia had already sunk her fangs into Oga's meat.
Garments were stripped away, and the room was filled with slurps of noodles.