Chapter 670 - 669 - An Offer for Correcting Her Mistake

Chapter 670: Chapter 669 - An Offer for Correcting Her Mistake

His balls swung forward with each stroke, slapping against her cunt — the wet, cum-leaking, swollen pussy that had been spared by the panty that now hung in shreds around his shaft.

Helena’s face. The pig face. The slack-jawed, drooling, tongue-lolling, eye-rolled expression of a woman being fucked past her brain’s capacity to process. Her brown hair was wet with sweat. Her brown eyes were gone — rolled back, the irises disappeared. Her mouth hung open. Saliva ran in thick strings. Her hand was still on her tit — gripping, squeezing, the milk spraying with each thrust.

"AAAHH~!!♡♡!! I’M — I’M CUMMING — AAANGH~!!♡♡♡!! MASTER — VIKTOR — HAAAH~!!♡♡♡!!"

Her body seized. Her cunt sprayed. The fluid hit Viktor’s stomach, his thighs, the bed. Her anal canal clenched — the walls squeezing his cock, the sphincter tightening, the involuntary milking response of a body in orgasm.

Viktor didn’t slow down.

He fucked her through the orgasm. Through the clenching. Through the seizure. His hips maintained their rhythm — PAH PAH PAAH — driving her climax higher, extending it, making it last until her body ran out of fluid and her moans became dry, broken, the sound of a woman who had been wrung out.

Mira watched. Her chin on Viktor’s shoulder. Her green eyes tracking every thrust. Every flinch. Every drop of milk and squirt and sweat. Her own body — pressed against his back — was warm. Her own pussy — the shaved, puffy, post-birth slit — was wet. Not from stimulation — from the sight. The sound. The ’feeling’ of her husband’s body moving against hers while he destroyed another woman.

She looked down. At the floor. At Nora.

The demoness was on her side. Still chained. Still trembling. Her crimson eyes — half-open, glazed — were looking up. At the bed. At the man. At the cock. At the woman being destroyed.

And at Mira.

Mira’s green eyes met Nora’s crimson ones.

"How dare you raise your voice?" Mira said. Her voice was low. Cold. The Voice of Dominion made every word land in Nora’s chest like a fist.

"Don’t forget," Mira said. Her arms tightened around Viktor’s waist. Her tits pressed harder against his back. Her lips found his ear again. Her tongue traced the shell.

"You are simply a sex slave for my darling."

The words hung in the air. In the room that smelled of sex and milk and blood and pheromones. In the chamber where a pregnant woman was being ass-fucked, a naked woman was helping, and a heavenly demon lay chained on the floor.

Nora’s crimson eyes — wet, red, burning with rage and shame and the absolute, ’I-cannot-believe-this-is-happening’ humiliation of being called a sex slave in front of the man who had already made her lick his cock — found Mira’s green ones.

The message in those green eyes was clear.

’He is mine. You are mine. And if you forget that again, I will do worse than chain you.’

Nora’s mouth opened. No sound came out. The magic circle still muted her. The chains still held her. The electricity still tingled in her nerves.

On the bed, Helena screamed.

"AAAAHHH~!!♡♡♡!! I’M CUMMING AGAIN — HAAAH~!!♡♡♡!!"

PAH PAH PAAH PHACK!!

Viktor slammed deep. Held. His cock throbbed — the pulse of climax, the swell of the shaft, the imminent flood. His balls tightened. His hands gripped Helena’s hips — the fingers digging into the soft, thick flesh, leaving white marks.

He came.

The load — thick, hot, heavy — flooded Helena’s anal canal. The first rope hit deep. The second followed. The third overflowed. White cum leaked around his shaft, running down over her cunt, over her taint, dripping onto the already-soaked sheets.

"AAAAHHH~!!♡♡♡!! I CAN FEEL IT — IT’S SO HOT — AAANGH~!!♡♡♡!!"

Helena’s body went limp. Her arms fell to her sides. Her legs — one still hooked over Viktor’s shoulder — slid off, splaying wide. Her face pressed into the mattress. Her brown hair covered her face. Her breathing was ragged — short, shallow, the breathing of a woman whose body had been pushed past every limit.

Mira’s lips found Viktor’s neck. She kissed the skin. Tasted salt. Sweat. The faint remnant of Helena’s milk.

"Mmm," she murmured against his skin. "Welcome home, husband."

Viktor pulled out. His cock emerged from Helena’s ass with a wet POP.

The shaft was still hard — the 100x-enhanced stamina keeping him erect — and slick with cum. The head dripped.

The cum fell onto Helena’s ass — thick, white, running over the blue-veined skin of her thick cheeks.

He looked down. At the mess. At the bed. At Helena. At Mira pressed against his back. At the floor.

At Nora.

The demoness. Chained. Muted. Bleeding. Trembling. On his floor.

His lips curled.

"Nora... how about now come and clean my cock? I kight forget your bad service like last time."

’!?!’

"Nora..." Viktor said. The name rolled off his tongue like honey. "...how about now come and clean my cock? I might forget your bad service like last time."

The words hit her like a physical blow. Her crimson eyes — still glazed from the electrocution — snapped wide open. Her mouth opened. The magic circle’s mute was still active, but the rage burning through her veins was enough to override any binding.

"YOU — YOU FILTHY — DISGUSTING — PERVERTED—"

BZZZT—!!

The crimson circle pulsed. The electricity surged through the chains — through the iron links wrapped around her wrists, ankles, thighs — and into her body. Her back arched. Her teeth clenched.

The curse died in her throat, replaced by a strangled, ’I-am-being-cooked-from-the-inside’ sound that was neither a scream nor a moan but something in between.

"AAAAHHH—!!"

The shock stopped. Nora’s body fell. Her cheek hit the cold stone floor. The blood from her nose — already trickling — smeared across her chin. Her ash-grey hair fell over her face. Her shoulders heaved with ragged, desperate breathing.

"Stop..." she whispered. The word was barely audible. The magic circle compressed it. But the meaning carried. "Stop... Master... stop..."

The word — ’Master’ — came out broken. Reluctant. The sound of a heavenly demon who had lived for three thousand years without submitting to anyone except the Demon King himself, now calling a human ’Master’ because the alternative was another bolt of electricity through her chained body.

Mira moved.

Her arms unwrapped from Viktor’s waist. Her naked body — the thick hips, the heavy tits, the post-birth belly — stepped around him. She walked to the edge of the bed. Her green eyes looked down at Nora. At the chained, bleeding, trembling demoness on the floor.

"Don’t you hear him?" Mira said. Her voice was soft. The Voice of Dominion made every syllable land in Nora’s chest like a melody played on a war drum. "Come."

She snapped her finger.

CLICK.

The collar materialized.

Not the same collar Viktor had used in the cave — that one had been crude, functional, a manifestation of incubus willpower. This one was different. This was the Archdemon Emperor’s binding — the 100x-multiplied demonic authority that could subjugate any demon below the Demon King’s rank. The collar was black. Iron. Inscribed with crimson runes that glowed with the light of the demon realm’s deepest laws. It formed around Nora’s neck — materializing from nothing, closing with a SNAP that echoed through the chamber.

The leash followed. A meter-long chain — black iron, matching the collar — extending from the front ring into Mira’s open palm.

The weight of it settled in her hand. She felt the power in it — the connection, the binding, the ’you-belong-to-me’ authority that the leash represented. Her green eyes moved from the leash to Viktor.

To her husband.

To the man standing there with his cock still slick with Helena’s ass and his own cum, the shaft hanging between his thighs, twelve inches of softening flesh that was still bigger than most men’s erect.

She held out the leash.