Chapter 170: Grayfia’s +18 payment. Alicia’s virginity. Shrine maiden Laura.

You hold still inside her, feeling the tight warmth of her virgin walls adjusting around you. No flinch of pain crosses her face. Only those wide red eyes staring up at you, tears still wet on her cheeks, her lips parted in wonder.

You begin to move. Slow. Deliberate. Each stroke measured and deep, with each thrust you push a gentle wave of magic into her body.

"As I made a deal with a devil," you say, your voice low against her ear, "I'm obligated to pay a value that's proper to the services given."

Grayfia's breath hitches. Her fingers dig into your shoulders.

"You will accept your master's payment properly, won't you?"

"Yes," she whispers. "Yes, my lord. I accept."

The magic seeps into her with each thrust. You feel it spreading through her nervous system, enhancing every point of contact between your bodies. Her eyes widen further as sensation builds in ways she never imagined during years of subjective preparation.

You maintain the pace. Unhurried. Each stroke identical in depth and speed despite the way her hips begin to roll beneath you, seeking more friction, more speed. Her thighs tighten around your waist.

"Please," she breathes. "Faster."

You don't change. Another stroke. Another pulse of magic.

"More. I need"

You silence her with a kiss and continue at the same measured rhythm. Grayfia writhes, her back arching, her nails raking lines down your shoulders. She tries to shift her hips to increase the angle and you adjust, keeping the pace exactly where you want it.

The climax builds in her like a pressure rising against a cracking dam. You can feel it in the way her walls flutter around you, in the trembling of her thighs, in the broken syllables falling from her lips. When it breaks, it breaks completely.

Grayfia's entire body spasms. Her spine bows off the mattress, her mouth opening in a silent scream as the orgasm rolls through every nerve. You extend it gently, feeding just enough magic to sustain the peak without amplifying it further. Letting her feel the full duration of what her body can produce.

Her eyes roll back. Her fingers go slack on your shoulders. The magic payment completes its circuit, settling into her cells with a warm golden glow that fades after a moment.

You lower her gently back to the pillows. Her chest heaves, her silver-white hair plastered to her face with sweat. You kiss her forehead. Her cheek. The corner of her mouth.

"I'm needed at Carne Manor," you say softly. "Rest with your mother."

Grayfia nods weakly, her eyes already drifting half-closed. You withdraw from her carefully and rise from the bed, reequipping your clothes.

Oriax stands from her chair, her rejuvenated face carrying an expression you haven't seen from her before. Something raw and grateful and fiercely maternal all at once. She moves to the bed, gathering her daughter into her arms without a word.

"Thank you," Oriax says quietly as you finish dressing. "For being gentle with her."

You nod once and head for the Dungeon Passageway, the silver light swallowing you as the Lucifuge estate falls away behind you.

- - -

You step through the Dungeon Passageway into Carne Manor's main hall. The morning light streams through tall windows, casting golden rectangles across the polished floor. The hall is quiet, most residents still asleep or stirring in their rooms. You make your way up the stairs toward Prim's bedroom.

The door opens silently under your hand. Prim lies curled on her side, pink hair fanned across the pillow, her sheer dress draped over a chair where she left it last night. You sit on the edge of the bed and lean down, pressing your lips to her temple. She stirs, a soft sound escaping her.

"Mm, Blank?"

"Good morning, Prim."

Your mouth trails down her jaw, her neck, the curve of her shoulder. She stretches beneath you like a cat, her eyes still half-closed. You pull the sheet away and lower yourself between her thighs, your tongue finding her already warm.

Prim gasps, her fingers threading into your hair. "Oh, that's a good morning."

You take your time, slow and thorough, building her arousal gradually. Her hips roll against your mouth, her breathing quickening. When she climaxes, it's gentle and rolling, her whole body trembling as she cries out softly into the pillow.

You kiss your way back up her body and murmur against her ear. "Bring your dress with you. Get dressed in Alicia's room after."

Prim nods, still breathless, and gathers her transparent pink dress and white panties from the chair. She walks beside you through the corridor completely naked, her dress and undergarments folded over one arm, her pink hair still mussed from sleep. She doesn't hesitate or cover herself.

Alicia's door opens at your approach and find her stirring, blonde hair tangled across her pillow, her athletic body bare beneath a thin sheet. Her blue eyes open as you enter, and she sits up with immediate alertness.

"Blank? And Prim?"

You cross to the bed and kiss her before she can form another question. Alicia's hand rises to your chest, steadying herself as your mouth claims hers. When you pull back, her cheeks are flushed.

"Good morning," you say.

"Very good morning," she replies, her voice husky.

You kiss down her neck, across her collarbone, between the firm swell of her breasts. Your lips trace her stomach, her hips, the inside of her thighs. Alicia's breath catches, her fingers gripping the sheets.

Prim settles onto the bed beside her, watching with bright eyes, her dress still folded over her arm.

Your tongue finds Alicia's center and she arches with a sharp cry. You savor her, slow and deliberate, your hands holding her thighs apart as she writhes. Each stroke builds her higher, her voice breaking on syllables of your name.

"Blank, please, I need"

You don't rush. You taste every inch of her virginity with reverence, drawing out her pleasure until her body is trembling uncontrollably. When the climax hits, Alicia's back bows off the mattress, her thighs clamping around your head as wave after wave crashes through her.

You ease her through the aftershocks, then climb back up her body. Her blue eyes meet yours, glazed with want.

"Prim and I talked," Alicia breathes. "I want it. Today."

Prim nods beside her, reaching for Alicia's hand. Their fingers interlace.

"We're ready," Prim confirms, her voice steady despite the blush spreading across her cheeks.

You look down at the two of them. Alicia beneath you, her athletic body flushed from her recent climax, blue eyes bright with anticipation. Prim beside her, pink hair loose across the pillow, her hand still intertwined with Alicia's fingers.

"Only you today," you say to Alicia, your voice low. "Prim will have her turn tomorrow."

Prim squeezes Alicia's hand and nods, settling back against the pillows to watch. "I want to be here for you."

Alicia's breath catches. Her free hand rises to your chest, palm flat against your skin. "I know. I'm ready."

You position yourself between her thighs. She's still slick from your mouth, her body trembling with residual pleasure. You take your time, letting the head of your cock press against her entrance without pushing forward. Alicia's hips tilt upward, seeking, her thighs spreading wider.

"Slow," you tell her. "Let me."

You push inside. The resistance gives way gradually, her virgin walls stretching around you inch by inch. Alicia's mouth opens, her eyes going wide. Her grip on Prim's hand tightens until her knuckles go white.

"Oh," she breathes. "Oh, that's"

You sink deeper. Alicia's back arches, her athletic body responding with a full-body shudder. When you seat yourself fully inside her, she lets out a sound somewhere between a gasp and a moan, her head falling back against the pillow.

"Are you alright?" Prim asks softly.

"More than alright," Alicia manages, her voice cracking. "It's so full. Like I as always empty before."

You begin to move. Gentle strokes that let her adjust, each one drawing a new sound from her throat. Her legs wrap around your waist, her heels pressing into the small of your back. The tightness of her virgin body grips you with every withdrawal and welcomes you back with every thrust.

Prim watches with wide eyes, her free hand drifting to her own chest. She bites her lip, her breathing quickening as she witnesses her sister's transformation from nervous anticipation to open-mouthed pleasure.

You build the pace gradually. Each thrust deeper, each angle adjusted to find what makes Alicia's breath stutter. Her athletic frame responds beautifully, her hips learning to meet yours, her internal muscles clenching around you in ways that make her cry out.

"Blank, I feel it building," she gasps. "It's different from before. Deeper."

You increase the speed slightly, watching her face. The flush spreading from her cheeks down her neck. The way her blue eyes lose focus. The way her mouth falls open on repeated syllables of your name.

The climax takes her completely. Alicia's entire body locks, her spine bowing, her thighs clamping around you as the orgasm rips through her with a force that dwarfs anything oral ever gave her. She screams, her voice breaking, her nails raking down your back as wave after wave crashes through her core.

Prim gasps beside her, watching her sister shatter apart. Alicia's eyes roll back, her body convulsing around you in rhythmic pulses that milk every last sensation from the moment.

When the spasms finally fade, Alicia lies limp and trembling beneath you. Tears leak from the corners of her eyes. Not pain. Pure overwhelming release.

"That," she whispers, "was nothing like what I imagined."

Prim reaches over and brushes the tears from Alicia's cheek with her thumb. "You were beautiful."

Alicia turns her head and kisses Prim's palm.

You turn your attention to Prim, leaning across the bed to press your mouth against her breast. She gasps, her pink hair falling across her shoulders as she arches into the contact. Your tongue circles her nipple while your hand cups the other, and Prim's fingers find your hair, threading through it with gentle pressure.

"That's not fair," she whispers, her voice trembling. "Watching Alicia and now this."

You don't respond with words. Your mouth works her breast with deliberate attention, sucking and teasing until Prim is squirming beside her sister, her thighs pressing together.

Alicia stirs beneath you, her internal muscles still fluttering weakly around your cock. Her blue eyes flutter open, finding you with your mouth on Prim's chest, and a breathless laugh escapes her.

"You're still inside me," she says, wonder coloring her voice.

"I am."

You withdraw slowly, and Alicia whimpers at the loss. A thin trail of blood and cum follows your exit, staining the white sheet beneath her. You reach into your inventory, swapping the sheet beneath her body with a fresh sheet. The stained fabric comes away clean in your hands.

Alicia watches with half-lidded eyes as you hold the sheet up. The blood stain forms a small but unmistakable mark against the white cotton. You channel magic through your fingertips, the fabric shifting and reshaping in your grip. Threads of gold weave through the cotton, transforming it into something richer. The stain becomes the centerpiece of a small tapestry, bordered with delicate embroidery that frames the crimson mark like a precious jewel.

"What is that?" Prim asks, sitting up.

"Proof," you say, holding it up for both of them to see. "Alicia's virginity, preserved. Every woman in this household who gives me their first time receives one of these."

Alicia's eyes widen. She reaches for it, then pulls her hand back, her cheeks flushing crimson. "You keep those?"

"I hang them. Here."

You cross to the wall beside her door and press the tapestry flat against the stone. Magic anchors it in place, the golden threads catching the morning light. It hangs there like a small banner, intimate and unmistakable in its meaning.

Alicia stares at it from the bed, her expression cycling through embarrassment, pride, and something deeper that makes her eyes glisten.

You return to the bed and kneel before her. Your mouth finds her breast, kissing the soft swell with the same reverence you showed Prim moments ago. Alicia's hand rises to the back of your head, her fingers tangling in your hair as she sighs.

"That tapestry," she murmurs, her voice thick. "Prim, look at it."

Prim rolls to the edge of the bed, craning her neck toward the door. Her eyes go wide. "It's beautiful. Will I get one too?"

"Tomorrow," you say against Alicia's skin. "When it's your turn."

Prim settles back against the pillows with a satisfied smile, her hand finding Alicia's again. Their fingers interlace as you continue your gentle worship of Alicia's breasts, letting her body recover from the experience of her first time.

Alicia's breathing steadies beneath your mouth. Her free hand strokes your hair, her touch soft and grateful.

"Thank you," she whispers. "For making it mean something."

"You are mine, only mine." You reply whispering as you rise from the bed, leaving Alicia and Prim tangled together among fresh sheets. Alicia's hand traces idle patterns on Prim's arm, her blue eyes still carrying a glazed satisfaction from her first time. The golden-bordered tapestry catches the morning light beside her door.

"Get dressed and come down for breakfast," you say. "The twins will be leaving for school after."

Prim stretches, her pink hair cascading over her bare shoulders. "We will."

You step into the corridor and make your way toward Laura's room. The manor is stirring now, distant sounds of movement from other quarters. You reach Laura's door and open it without knocking.

Laura sits on the edge of her bed, already awake, her platinum blonde hair loose around her shoulders. She wears a simple white camisole and shorts, her ice-blue eyes tracking you as you enter. Her posture straightens instinctively, military training asserting itself even in the soft morning light.

"Good morning," she says, her voice carrying that clipped precision that hasn't quite faded.

"Good morning."

You cross to the bed and sit beside her. Your hand rises to her cheek, tilting her face toward you as you study her features. The sharp line of her jaw. The pale perfection of her skin. Those striking ice-blue eyes that hold both wariness and something warmer beneath.

"You're beautiful, Laura," you say simply.

Her cheeks flush. The military bearing wavers. "I"

You lower her onto the pillows before she can finish, your mouth finding hers in a brief kiss before trailing down her neck. Her camisole rides up as your hands push beneath it, fingers tracing the lean muscles of her stomach. You pull the fabric over her head, revealing the athletic slimness of her frame, her small breasts rising with quickened breath.

Your mouth descends between her thighs. Laura gasps, her fingers gripping the sheets with white-knuckled intensity. You take your time, savoring the taste of her, the way her hips buck involuntarily when your tongue finds the right spot. She is still learning her own body's responses, still surprised by the sensations you draw from her.

"Ah, that's" she breaks off, her back arching. Her thighs tremble against your ears. You build her slowly, drawing out each reaction, watching the way her composure dissolves piece by piece.

When the climax hits, Laura's entire body locks rigid, a strangled cry escaping her throat. Her hips roll against your mouth in helpless waves, her military discipline shattered completely by physical sensation.

You ease her through the aftershocks and climb back up beside her. She lies panting, her ice-blue eyes unfocused, her platinum hair spread across the pillow like spilled moonlight.

"Orihime is enjoying wearing her festival miko outfit," you say, brushing damp hair from her forehead. "I want you to pick something that complements both of you. Something that appeals you as a pair."

Laura blinks, processing the shift from pleasure to conversation. She sits up slowly, reaching for the wardrobe that the manor has configured for her. Inside hang: bunny suits in white-silver, white, and black. But beside them hang other options. A military-style dress uniform cut scandalously short. A shrine maiden outfit in silver and white that would mirror Orihime's without duplicating it, all precisely one size too small.

Laura's fingers hover over the options. Her analytical mind is already working, calculating visual harmony.

"The shrine maiden," she decides, pulling it from the wardrobe. Silver-trimmed white with a shorter hemline than traditional. "It matches Orihime's aesthetic without competing with it. Complementary rather than identical."

She holds it against her body, the fabric shimmering faintly in the morning light. Her cheeks are still flushed from her climax, but her eyes have regained that sharp focus.

"Will this work?"