Syril Thurdia moved through the halls, her steps heavy and her face clearly etched with frustration.
Her patience was wearing thin.
To begin with, she had been made a slave. Syril was not a citizen of the Kalagmon Empire; therefore, she was unlike the others in the manor—most of whom had lived as slaves for nearly eighteen years.
She was a warrior, hailing from a distant village in a nameless country.
The dark elf had been sparring with one of her friends when a group of bandits approached. Syril was easily the stronger of the two, and to protect her companion, she bought time for her to escape.
Under normal circumstances, a handful of bandits would have posed no threat. But this group carried an irregularly strong fighter among them. Maybe they had some different goal and just happened to run across some "bonus loot."
Syril hated being reduced to an extra.
But what she hated even more than that was being a slave. After her defeat, she had been shipped off immediately to a slave auction, a seal forcibly engraved upon her body against her will. Then, she was bought by none other than the baron.
She detested that old bastard…
Of course, she was eighty-three herself—but that was beside the point.
She also despised the way he fucked her. Quite frankly, it was sad.
Every time, he treated her like a lover—trying to be passionate, trying to be intimate throughout. And almost every time afterward, he would snuggle into her arms, crying like a child about his bedridden wife, who seemed to worsen by the day.
His hypocrisy made her sick. His cock made her sick.
She felt nothing toward him.
The truth was, if Daeron hadn't been so damn strong, she would have slit his throat and vanished without a trace already. The slave seal was a problem, yes—but she already had a few ideas on how to work around it.
Still, for the time being, her plan was to stay obedient, indulge the old man until he lowered his guard—and then, she would strike.
So, she had been carrying out that task dutifully, waiting by the front gate for the baron's son—Stiletto—once the thirty minutes from their initial conversation had passed.
That boy...
In the month she had been here, she had barely registered his existence. Every single day, he stayed cooped up in his room, doing who knew what. And if he wasn't there, he was away at school.
He was timid. Too timid.
As a warrior, she detested that attitude. It meant weakness.
And yet, she couldn't push him from her mind. After seeing him enter the baron's office earlier, he had felt… different. Stranger still, she found herself thinking of him somewhat favorably. As though someone else entirely had taken over his body.
Well, if someone had taken control of Stiletto's body, she was fully prepared to beat his ass.
In truth, she was furious.
She had waited by the front gates for nearly an hour, her patience thinning with every passing moment. Eventually, it became unbearable, and she stormed off toward his room in search of him.
Which was exactly what she was doing now.
She didn't miss the stares from the male staff of the household.
Her sundress, a vivid orange, hugged her ebony skin and yellow eyes, the fabric straining to contain her thick curves around her ample ass. The garment clung to her body, accentuating every alluring line and amplifying her captivating figure.
Syril wasn't sure why she had chosen this outfit—but regardless, there she was.
She ignored the stares as she approached the large doors to Stiletto's room, her hand reaching for the knob.
Then, she froze.
Beyond the door, muffled sounds could be heard:
"MmmMMppHH~ S—So good! Fuck. Fuck me harder, big boy~ AHHHhhnnnN~"
A hard smack.
"Take that fucking shit! UrrgHHhh—fuck, you're so goddamn tight still~!"
Another hard smack.
"NnnnGGHhh—?! I'm cu—cumming agaAAIINNN! MORE! CUM INSIDE ME MORE~!"
Syril swung the door open, and immediately the sight of Mya and Stiletto came into view. The two were drenched in sweat... and other fluids.
Facing the door, Mya was in the pronebone position, her face hidden as she clung to the sheets, tears and snot streaking her cheeks. Stiletto straddled her back legs, his throbbing cock slamming into her pussy as he delivered sharp slaps, leaving red handprints on her cheeks.
It appeared that the two had just came together.
Stiletto lifted his gaze, meeting Syril's stare.
Her expression was unreadable, but he could tell she'd been caught off guard. Of course she had.
A faint grin tugged at his lips as he spoke casually:
"Is there something you need, Syril?"
As soon as Stiletto spoke, mentioning the dark elf's name, Mya's head shot up, a lazy concern creasing her features.
Panic flooded her veins as she tried to explain:
"I—I can explain! It's just that Youn—MMmppPhHH?!"
Before she could finish her sentence, Stiletto thrust inside her once more.
Instantly, she felt weak as his cum slid out around his shaft and out of her entrance, the buildup from their many encounters causing the fluid to overflow.
Syril maintained an even expression as she responded simply:
"We were supposed to leave an hour ago."
She cast a glance down at Mya, completely ravaged beneath Stiletto.
'Huh... How'd he manage to do that?'
She shook off the curious thought as she continued, adding with a hint of sarcasm:
"But it seems you were... busy with that maid."
Stiletto chuckled softly, his hand landing a firm smack on Mya's fat ass, causing it to ripple as he continued thrusting.
"Well, at least you have eyes. Me and this beautiful lady here got a little carried away, so I completely forgot about you."
He feigned an apologetic smile as Mya moaned underneath him.
"So... I'm sorry?"
He delivered another smack to her bruised ass.
"But we had so much fun, didn't we, Mya?"
Down below, the maid slowly raised her head from the sheets, her tongue hanging out her mouth and her expression blissful as she replied:
"Yesshhh~ S—so much fUunnn~"
Syril blinked.
"I see that."
Stiletto shrugged, a hint of amusement in his voice.
"Care to join us?"
Without missing a beat, she coldly shot back:
"Would she have a problem with it?"
The thick moans filled the room as Stiletto thrust into Mya, not quite expecting Syril's response.
Time passed awkwardly before she spoke again:
"I'm joking. It seems your maid there has taken enough for two people..."
She hesitated for a moment, before adding with dry humor:
"I'll pass."
Stiletto only nodded before she went on:
"Meet me outside. You have ten minutes. You wouldn't want to upset your father, would you?"
Without waiting for a response, Syril swiveled her hips, her ass swaying as she closed the door behind her.
A deep exhale followed at once—she hadn't even realized she'd been holding her breath. She stopped briefly, the realization settling in...
'Wait a fucking minute...'
She'd lost her focus entirely.
She'd gone there fully intending to give him an earful—maybe even get physical after making her wait so long—yet instead, she'd been almost playful. By her standards, at least.
With a shake of her head, she pushed the thought aside and headed for the front gate.
'Just what the hell happened to that kid? He's... so different.'
Inside the room, Stiletto exited Mya's punished pussy, cum spilling out as her body quivered beneath him.
It seemed that in this world, he possessed bigger loads and greater stamina, even though his size remained average.
Maybe it was because he wasn't a mere Stage 1 mortal, but a Stage 2 combatant.
Even if he was a weak one.
'I'll take it.'
Leaning down, Stiletto softly kissed the curvaceous maid's supple ass and then smacked it, causing her to giggle softly.
The slap was light, but it still stung, her body already too bruised to ignore it.
But to her… it was delicious. She wouldn't've had it any other way.
Stiletto leaned back against the headboard, his hands behind his head, as Mya looked back with a confused expression.
"What is it?"
A wide grin spread across Stiletto's face.
"Didn't you hear her? We got ten minutes... Come here~"
He nodded to his rock-hard cock, not a hint of softness despite their recent passion.
How could he grow soft in front of such a sexy MILF?
Mya, realizing his meaning, licked her lips hungrily. With a slight grimace, she rose like a zombie and crawled between Stiletto's legs, a trail of cum and other fluids following her.
Gripping his firm rod, Mya took his balls into her mouth, swirling her tongue around them before releasing.
With a tired—yet still hungry—gaze, she spoke:
"You're insatiable, Stiletto~ Go ahead and let this old woman take care of you—just how you've taken care of me, okay~?"