Take Up the Cross – CH4: Bizarre Research ☆

“You’ll never gain anything without the right motivation, hee.”

Fatso brewed something while Adris listened attentively.

Having pored over all of Fatso’s manuals, Adris became stressed by the lack of advancement Serras showed. Her current plateau was a danger, considering the limited time remaining.

Though Fatso has been only creepy and not malicious, Adris has known the pig long enough to have known that every word of advice was a pronouncement of death if unfollowed.

“Princess just lacks the reason, hee. Haven’t you noticed her looks?” Fatso wheezed as Adris related that she only stuck closer to him, lately.

“Ah, young and oblivious, hee. The innocence of unconquered flesh, hee hee! Though I wouldn’t know…” Fatso winked as he laughed noisily at his own statement. The man had never commented directly, but his prodigious size and baby-like face led to Fatso’s rival making regular comments behind his back.

Adris possessed enough understanding of life to have deduced the likely reason.

And how does that matter for what I’m doing? Adris’ questions have never been directly answered.

“She’s wearing the necklace, cheap as it is, right? Are you really that dull? Or do you not like her like that, hee? You’re not… into men, are you?”

Fatso made a show of covering his own sizable bottom, a maiden-like, hideous expression on his fat face.

The obvious taunt ignored, a question like the former was difficult to answer, as Adris had never had the opportunity to consider it.

What am I supposed to do?

Fatso moved like a snake, completely belying his size. The man mangled the boy’s head with a cracking sound, the fat hand gripped on top and having enveloped him totally.

As Adris gasped in pain, he was lifted off the ground.

The potion was left on the fire, as the shadows of the two struggling figures were painted on the wall.

The fat bastard reached down to roughly clench Adris’ manhood.

“Use it, heeee! What is it there for if you don’t use it, heeeeeeee!” Fatso rasped as he then twisted, which caused Adris to contort in immense pain.

Adris’ neck was also in great distress, one of his hands pulling down on a large arm for relief as the other went to the arm holding onto his penis, pulling in horror at the assault.

The ponderous man dropped him quickly, though it’d seemed like an eternity of suffering. As Adris held back tears while he twitched on the ground, Fatso looked contemplatively at the writhing boy.

“You’re overthinking it, too, hee! Don’t think, do! You’re a man! Men and women just… do these things, heee! It’s not like you need a plan.” Fatso dryly commented, before he walked back to his work.

“Worst case scenario, she gets mad and makes you like her playthings, heee heeeeeee! Best case, you make her yours.” Shrill, choked laughter came from the man as he had his back turned. “Just remember: I don’t keep you around to let you two mate.”

Turned back toward Adris, who had just gotten to a kneeling position, Fatso handed him a stoppered vial which contained an unknown liquid.

“Your success is mine, son.” The fat man cooed, having handed the vial to Adris.

A tight grip was given on delivery.

“Whatever you do, make sure it takes you to your goal and not away. Hee, besides, what do you care? You have a future to make. You can’t care about everything along the way, heee!”

When Adris willingly took the vial, the big man patted him on the head roughly, but with a hint of affection. The lingering pain made Adris wince at the display.

“Remember: she’s a tool. Lovely? Yes, and still in the daintiness of her youth; but, always keep in mind she is a weapon. You, hee? You are my assistant. Both of your are, hee, irreplaceable. But you… You understand the goal. When I need a brain, hee, it’s you I will always need.”

Adris left the tent after, while the fat man made lewd gestures with his hands and hips. The choking laughter lingered as the boy departed.

The display made the boy uncomfortable in ways he could never hope to discuss with another.

But, it also made Adris realize his own desires as he walked towards Serras’ tent.

The vial?

It had never been necessary.

When pushed down, Serras had been filled with a quiet hunger Adris had never dreamed of. She had inflicted it on him, as he had inflicted himself on her.

Adris never found out what the vile concoction Fatso had brewed even did. He’d thrown it into the cooking fire the next day, a rash act that he’s always reproached himself for.

(“Never throw away what has utility.”)

The memory and the dream both end, as Adris’ consciousness returns.

Adris’ aura, if the man can call it that with how it currently feels, circulates at his command, though its path is confusing and limited.

He attempts to flex his muscles, but finds that he can’t move. Absolute paralysis grips him. Only his unconscious body movements, breathing and a heartbeat, confirm he’s still alive.

(Is this hell? Where is Fatso? I want to ask him what the potion did.)

Adris opens his eyes by forcing his aura to accomplish the task that his muscles cannot.

A dim, blue glow is what meets his enlarging pupils. The view of a close ceiling, with an oddly speckled texture, is his only frame of reference.

What catches his eyes are moving strands of darkness above him.

Fear immediately comes to him, the memory of his death to a similar darkness foremost… but…

Instead of a shining, menacing darkness, he wants to call it serpent-like. Weaving strands move about, separating at times as if the darkness is alive and composed of individual, finer strands.

Some tool is pulled overhead, carried by thick lengths which cradle it.

A disgusting voice oozes out, an unknown tongue obscuring the depravity Adris can feel in the tone.

Its choppy sound digs up an old memory, forcing Adris to think of the degenerate scholars who had hidden within their labyrinths of moldering scrolls.

(Hell is an odd place.)

Adris feels empty.

Everything he had within him before arriving in hell vanished with his death.

Even now, he struggles to care about his fate.

If his death occurred, then perhaps he deserves what’s coming.

Still, Adris attempts to move again, an ember burning within him forcing himself to struggle.

His senses have returned only slightly, leaving him with a feeling of numbness across his whole body.

It’s an impression of poison that his aura senses detect and Adris can only attempt to circulate more vigorously to flush it.

When he resolves to do so, the aura in his body moves at once to his left hand, a rush of pain accompanying it.

Adris feels his mind become hazy, as though the blood has drained from it.

Aura rushes back from his hand, traveling along pathways that actively warp with this return.

It no longer feels like his own self, more like an external creature. It obeys him, but the subtle qualities are gone.

(What was left of my body?)

The poison clears as quickly as he attempted to flush it, the strange aura working far more effectively than his own.

The room now feels deathly cold, the stone he is lying on so unforgiving that his muscles cry out. Shivering a bit, he tries to lift his head, a task performed with great difficulty.

Scanning the room he is in, he finds it very unlike the Xin he knows.

More similar to what the southern barbarians closer to the Great Sun use, brick and mortared stone meets his eyes, crumbling and decaying edifices for walls.

In this small room, barely accommodating ten people, the queer lighting makes it impossible to know its true dimensions.

Various tables and shelves stand next to the walls, giving him the impression of a cloister repository, but the tables hold contraptions Adris doesn’t recognize. The walls are covered with parchment, tacked up and displaying unknown glyphs, and strange, childish drawings.

These normal details belie the hellish nature suffusing it, which matches his concept of an afterlife for sinners.

Where brickwork ends, great shell-like structures have grown through the wall itself. Pale white and speckled, a third of the room seems to be the sea bed rather than a residence.

The irregular walls and corners are asymmetrical, and the furniture itself is warped and knotted, the non-true nature of the room playing havoc on his spatial senses.

The most frightening feature though remains the moving darkness above him, skulking along the entire room.

Small and great woven strands of rich black move about, picking up and depositing various effects.

He traces them back to their origin, a sitting female with long hair, fuller than even Serras’.

She wears a strange, blue overcoat with long sleeves, which hangs loosely open draped upon her. Her pale neck is covered by a reddish kerchief.

When she turns towards him, she wears an ankle-length, red slitted skirt with a red bodice for her top. A sensual, black leather wrap with ties meets over these layers.

The style of her clothing is unlike any Adris has witnessed or heard of. It’s too sexually charged to be casual, intentionally designed to bring one’s eyes to her curves. Even a courtesan would fail to dream up this loose style, much less wear it willingly.

When she gets up and paces about on her exquisite legs clad in black stockings, Adris hears slippers scrape the floor.

The glossy hair is possessed of its own life, still wicking about the room as if it’s tasting it.

She would be cute, except for a serious flaw…

(… She is personally disgusting.)

Curled upward like a snarl, her expression is that of a woman who openly dismisses others and believes only in her own superiority.

Her fair features are ruined by this demeanor, as is his impression of her femininity, with her clothing slovenly worn and obviously dirty.

She perfectly brings to mind his trashy, older roommate from his youth in the cloister. The man had spent months convinced that the secret to success with females was to upset the natural order and cast down the “heathen” elder scholars, becoming the wisest of all.

All the man had upset was the stomachs of anyone within smell of him.

She chatters to herself at times in her repulsive voice while examining parchment, her tone every bit the match to the man’s own porcine one.

Turning suddenly to stare at Adris, he closes his eyes and resumes his previously unconscious posture.

(It’s a… monster? Then this is hell? I need to find a door.)

Though still empty, a new, growing sense of danger drives Adris to act.

A door wasn’t within view, the only indication of a possible one being a strange, shell-like panel on the wall with crystals embedded into it. The spot next to it was devoid of furniture.

Adris feels swishing over him, suddenly.

(If I can’t understand this thing, I can’t defeat it.)

Thinking of the language being spoken, he tries to match it to any he knows. He wills himself to remember even the closest match to this language, but none of the tones sound correct.

The horrible feeling returns, his aura going torpid, before rushing to his left hand. When it washes back through his body, his mind buckles from the alien feeling accompanying it.

His thoughts are attacked all at once, something now actively latching onto his thoughts.

Adris wretches at this assault, being brought out of his stupor by the ensuing pain.

“Oh, oh, oh, a strange reaction? Did something go amiss? Impossible. My sublime existence can’t make a mistake, fufu.”

The ugly voice that he hears… suddenly becomes intelligible.

Accompanying the voice focusing on him, tickling sensations can be felt with more vigor to them, brush-like touches at multiple points of his body.

Her voice is somehow worse, now that Adris has confirmed her rotten personality.

(Bare skin?)

Adris feels shock, the hair on his groin and armpits forcing the unwelcome realization.

“A temporary reaction to the serum? The musculature must be settling in; though, it’s odd how this remains so large? Isn’t this strange for their stock? The statistics don’t support this. What size does she even like, again? Mother has never said~.”

The foul woman… grabs onto his dick with a ginger hand, pulling it gently to and fro as she inspects it while chortling.

Adris has never received this kind of disgusting molestation before.

“Arrived in poor condition, but the stock is niceeeee~. AAH, I’m so terribly brilliant. You know, the others weren’t even paying attention to you when you arrived, dragged in almost naked by the collection crews.”

The repugnant voice seems to be directed at Adris, but him being supposedly unconscious means she’s just bragging.

“Only my exquisite mind noticed the pearl hidden beneath your ugly shell.”

Adris feels emotion, now: anger at being belittled.

Even if he’s mostly broken after Serras destroyed his life, this abusive cretin is too irritating to possibly ignore.

But, even if he despises her, the sensation is… good.

The woman has a practiced hand. As he opens his eyes a bit to peek at her, he’s repulsed to see the self-proclaimed genius drooling slightly from scrunched lips, as she continues to leer at his crotch.

His thoughts muddle, caught between an unknown feeling of lust that is overtaking him and his nearly exhausted sense of self worth threatening to disappear if he allows her to continue.

(I don’t want this woman enjoying me.)

Adris resists this abuse in his mind, before the thought is swept aside by something else.

{There is a difference to her actions-}

The alien feeling in his body flexes as his thoughts diverge, a brief flash of an image in his mind, a thought of foreign origin.

“Where are you from, little experiment~? I want to know.” She moves her fingers along his rapidly engorging dick. “Oh, it’s functional? His physiology is recovering at a non-standard rate.”

Adris hears scribbling from somewhere as she continues.

The brush-like feeling becomes stronger as the woman’s hair starts floating over his body.

The smell of lust comes to Adris’ nose.

A lust that isn’t his.

“Uhu, it’s a bit impressive for his physique~.” A nasty compliment is given, before Adris hears scraping and then the woman seems to sit down.

“There’s a stronger reaction than I’d anticipate?”

A sudden, stark silence punctuates her question.

“Is it purely physiological…?”

The hairs stop moving with this serious statement, her voice suddenly authoritative and measured, losing its disgusting nature entirely.

A businesslike tone, completely dissimilar from her earlier interest, sounds well practiced.

Adris goes completely still, willing his body to be dead.

As the woman continues to stroke him, slower than before but still unceasing, moments of silence pass.

“Seems like it~☆!”

A sultry feeling comes to her voice when it returns to normal, as the unsettling, wavering lilt of her voice continues to become more porcine.

Adris hears the movement of fabric.

“Uh… right. Could my brilliance required for such tests?” Though she sounds unsure, her hand, exquisite in movement, grips him slightly harder and increases in speed.

Adris, though he hates the woman’s personality, can’t help but feel a rising pleasure, as the muscles of his loins begin to contract in time with her movement.

“Ehe, it’s okay for the researcher to do a bit of her own work… ah~☆!”

A wet, squelching sound is heard as skin moves between fabric.

Adris opens his eyes with fearful curiosity, looking over to see the woman with face-covering hair lolling her tongue out, as though she doesn’t notice it escaping from her mouth.

She flicks the tip of her tongue, stroking his dick with more focus and concentration.

Hunched forward as she sits beside him, her hair quivers slightly, sending vibrations across the room. The pig scholar has one hand on him as the other is between a slit in her skirt, her arm moving slightly as the squelching noise from her crotch increases with regularity and loudness.

(Is this bitch… pleasuring herself to me?)

Adris is horrified, confused, and excited, in that order.

Only minutes before, he’d seemingly died in a burial chamber, betrayed by the only partner he’s ever had.

Now, a sow in a coat is fingering herself with great gusto, as she expertly rubs the full length of his dick. Her hand pays beautiful attention to the crown of his penis at just the right intensity.

Adris notices that he is breathing heavily at this stimulation, his own body betraying his mind as the wandering hair teasing his skin only further divides his concentration.

A thought comes to him from an unknown place, his head throbbing with its presence.

{The woman kneels, her head to the ground, his foot on her head, before he-}

“Hm, hmmm, ah, response is excellent~. Full extension and rigidity, even while unconscious. The smell…?” Her face comes right next to the head of his penis dripping liquid, as she…

Draws in a deep, animalistic breath.

Adris almost cringes, aghast as he is from the sight.

“Hah, hah, that’s, quite good for a human. What is that unique smell? AHH, I’m so brillia-ahhh!”

She bites her tongue in mid self-congratulation as her arm seems to shake, her unseen hand moving faster. “… smart! This is better than normal for appeal. Mother will be impressed, right~?”

Adris, unsure of who “mother” is, is left in despair as the woman continues to minister him.

While the pig continues to pleasure herself using him as a dish, Adris fights back the urge to aid in release.

He realizes, with great sadness, that he’s been backed up for two weeks since they’d escaped Soldon. Serras had… simply never been interested and he’d never asked.

“UH, heheheeee, for a first try, my superior intellect nailed it~! Ah, that serum and the timing of this meat’s arrival… ah, it’s like [Fate] (ABSOLUTE DISCRETION OF THE FUTURE). The size of the body is just right, just like Mother loves~! Fairly tall when he came in… the actuals I don’t have, but I’d guess better than average.”

The woman talks to herself without stopping, a string of self-congratulations further enraging Adris at his misfortune being the source of her self-worth.

“Look how dainty you are, now~! If I can do this to all of the [Chosen] (SLAYERS), just think! Their jaunts into the Castillo will end in a single day! Rather than just disappearing after a while to raid again, they’ll come back as midgets barely capable of combat~! AH, I’M BRILLIANT!”

(Dainty. Why would I be dainty?)

Her words carry strange meanings as he listens to them. Words are becoming… self-explanatory in his own mind.

Adris’ body does feel foreign, as though there’s a difference in size. The flow of the aura is also off in such a manner.

(Has she used some aura weapon or technique on me?)

With the schlicking sound growing more pronounced, Adris is surprised by the patter of liquid hitting the floor.

“Hah, it’s been a while… I haven’t had any release. ALWAYS STUCK WITH THESE SUB INTELLECTS!”

She grips his dick harshly, though not harshly enough to crush it. Adris tenses at a shameful pleasure.

“Why should I fuck… ah… any of you~. I’m too good for it. I’m brilliant… all of you… are just beetles~! Ehehehehehe! Ahh!”

(What did this miscreant do!?)

Adris grows furious at his ignorance, truly caring for the first time since his arrival, as the woman quips “Scurry away, hehehe…” under her breath.

“Um… I shouldn’t… but…” She sounds mournful, then hopeful. “Maybe if I just… feel this… inside, I can get some better information on Mother’s tastes. Is it different if a woman does it with a kid~? I need to know for… making the serum better…”

Adris feels drool land on his body. “I haven’t had a penis inside of me in a bit~.”

A wet tongue is on his penis, a slurping on the head the only worthwhile contribution this woman has made to Adris’ plight.

An immense wave of unwanted pleasure strikes up into Adris.

Lust, rejection, and the alien need for dominance all wage against each other. Adris can’t think, as he feels three separate thoughts in his mind.

His body needs release, his sense of self wants away from her, but this…

… foreign feeling, of cold hunger for control, desires something else from her.

(What is this? I don’t want to have sex with…)

Her mouth is incredibly warm as she continues. She moves away after lubricating his cock with a swirling tongue.

“… Hah, I can’t handle… idiots. At least when they’re unconscious like this, I don’t have to worry about anything happening to me…” She sounds fearful as she speaks, though also tinged with a growing lust and some submerged desire. “N-no worries… I can take him, as small as he is… hehehe…”

Something she said before, suddenly clicks with Adris.

“A kid.”

(A kid!?)

He throws his eyes open, lifting up his body to look down at himself.

He sees his body there, intact. Without wounds. And…

Significantly smaller.

…

He looks up to see the pig woman staring at him, her mouth open in shock. Her hand on his dick has stopped moving, but the woman’s hand in her dress hasn’t stopped at all, her dress shaking as she seems to increase in intensity while being watched.

Adris looks at his arms. His left hand is still…

Holding the cross.

He looks back to the woman, whose lips are starting to quiver a bit.

“Nwah, wah, what are…” She stumbles over the words. From his memory of Serras and their pleasures together, the woman is clearly very close to climax.

(She turned me into a…

… kid.)

With a spiring penis.

(How… dare…)

The image boldly storms into his mind. It kicks away Adris’ own thoughts, becoming all he can see.

{She supplicates herself before a figure holding a cross.}

Three thoughts all fuse: outrage, desire, and a hunger to dominate this fool.

His left hand aches as his muscles go numb, his body heating up when he feels an absence of control sweep over him.

Adris watches as his right free, right hand moves without him needing to think or act.

He grabs onto the woman’s hunched over head, her throat producing a stupid “DUFU!” sound when he yanks on her soft hair.

Something howls in his mind.

{This terrible woman is accepting a dick down her throat, willingly and happily. There’s no light in her eyes.}

He moves the pig’s face over his dick.

With her hair pulled back a bit, he can see her purple eyes, wide with uncertainty as she darts to look at him and then back to his dick.

She tries to protest with moving lips –

“Pig, let go of your resistance. Accept what you are and desire to be.”

A voice that sounds like Adris’, but ignores his own thoughts, issues a command.

Her mouth still open in shock, the woman’s face immediately goes slack with her lust and an absence of mind as he hears her breathe more heavily. Her tongue creeps out a bit from her lush, red lips, hovering over his dick.

Her hand is the only sound in the room as she slams her fingers into her own hidden, but obviously soaked, pussy. Her body is shivering as she speaks drunkenly.

“Hah, hah, I, have to serve…? Right? … Yeah? Of course! Are you going to… use me? … are you going…” She speaks haltingly, unsure of her own words, her eyes trembling as her spirit succumbs.

Something deep within her psyche is breaking out, let free by the command issued to her.

“… To mess me up? ♥”

The proud bitch speaks with a subservient voice. Her face flushes as she melts into her needy arousal, her eyes searching for permission.

Adris’ hand applies downward force, shoving her mouth onto his dick.

Adris’ dick goes all the way in to the hilt, the boy turning his body slightly to keep his dick from bending harshly, as he forces it down her now broken in throat.

The woman that was already close to orgasm makes a choking sound as her eyes roll back into her head.

A sound like a flowing stream can be heard while she spasms, as the air in the room gains a musty smell.

(… wait, stop.)

With the ensuing smell jolting him, Adris tries to gain back his conscious control. The absurdity of his actions and his revulsion make him realize something dangerous is upon him.

The alien images are removing his agency, directing his thoughts and ignoring his conscious desires. Only now does he realize how much is disappearing as he gives into them.

She gasps for air as he quickly yanks her off of his dick, her saliva going everywhere, while her nose runs onto her face.

Her wide eyes regain focus as she looks at him. The feeling of pain from his left hand momentarily lessens.

“Y—ghk… huh? What… Y-y-you… bastard… how dare you, to this brillia-GHK!”

She regains consciousness briefly when he pulls out, an accusation rolling arrogantly from her tongue, before her insult brushes away Adris’ attempts to regain control.

In response to her idiocy, Adris slams his dick back into her spiteful mouth, the rage he feels blowing away his mental discipline.

Adris spares her no mercy.

He continues pulling her head off and then slamming back in. The woman tries to breathe while he’s doing it, but only phlegm comes from her nose, a free route for air provided only when he withdraws.

(It… feels good…)

The image changes.

{The woman before him is a tool that follows him, offering its body when needed.}

Adris thoughts’ continue to darken, as the lust grows.

The sound of her squelching mouth and choking is still matched by the beastly woman’s now resumed masturbation.

While the woman’s eyes are unfocused, both of her hands are in her skirt, dress pulled away so that Adris can see her rubbing her juicy hole. She slams her fingers into her narrow, pink cunt, intentionally putting it on display for Adris by spreading her legs further apart.

A fading consciousness quivers when the voice that’s not his speaks again.

“You wanted this. I can feel it.” She twitches as Adris speaks, still slamming his cock into her. “Accept that your need is now mine and let my will be yours.”

Her unfocused eyes melt further at this proposal, with Adris picking up the pace, choosing to push all the way in and leave his cock lodged inside of her.

This attempt to punish her is met by her wrapping her tongue greedily around his cock, trying to milk it as her throat squeezes along his length.

(Ah, fuck, she’s actually impossibly good! This slut is far better than Serras. The only time that Serras would agree to do this was when she was drunk and she had never been very good at it…)

Serras seemed… needy, but always inexperienced.

A dark image projects onto his thoughts when Serras comes to mind.

{Serras is thrown aside, a man standing over her. Rather than winning, she is beaten and bloodied. The man leaves her behind. She perishes, unneeded.}

It’s a tempting offer to Adris.

(… Not needing Serras… but still feeling pleasure… what is this? It’s completely logical, but it feels… strange.)

This spiteful and disgusting woman’s warm mouth and throat are a pure pleasure, a rare taste of something other than his partner.

He can’t help but compare it, even as something feels guilty about the flesh sliding over his length. Saliva from her drips down his skin, a raw contact with a woman other than Serras causing him to feel…

(Ah, fuck. Why does it feel good!? I don’t want anything to do with her! But… all I can think to do is… just grab her head and slam into her for eternity!)

Adris’ mind and body have different inclinations.

(… If her mouth is this good, then…)

He listens to the fingers working, the woman not stopping for a single moment as she seeks her own pleasure, too.

(If I can paint her throat… then I can also use her lower hole however I want to… fill it up with…)

Surrendering to the tightness and need, he turns a woman into a masturbation tool. He can feel his seed rising, making his prior rejection seem comical.

The woman’s attractive body overwrites the effect of her voice on him, now that it’s mercifully blocked. Even now, her hair is jealously clinging to Adris’ skin. Not seeking to stop him in any way, it only rubs against him, like a lover’s hands trying to urge stronger affection.

(… I don’t… want this thing.)

Even as he enjoys the pleasure, the fact that it’s with someone who is wrong is scratching at his mind.

(Being with another woman… even after everything, or rather because of it…)

Adris’ mind is starting to reject both the images and his lust.

The woman slobbers over him, drenching his groin with her saliva, her legs spread wide as she furiously abuses herself. Her mouth and throat are hollowed out by rapid thrusts, a disgusting, fleshy sound of slobbering and sucking removing all traces of pride from her.

Adris stops briefly. Her eyes lock onto him, surprised, yet still purely submissive.

Overriding his dismay, the voice speaks for him, knowing his own situation better than him.

“Prepare. It’s going down your throat.”

The woman tenses, but then a dopey smile comes to her face, even as her mouth is filled by him.

Adris’ body shows her no mercy, plunging a hard cock into her throat even faster and harder than before.

Her tongue can’t catch up with the thrusting to provide the pleasure it had previously offered. It is simply trodden upon by his dick on the way to scrape against her throat.

Going wild, her hair flails around stupidly like drunks in a tavern, unsure of what to cling to.

With one final slam, Adris puts his dick up to the base, as he exhales in release.

His balls constrict, his seed shooting up, exiting his dick to begin coating the woman’s throat in a torrent of his one-sided passion.

The sow convulses the moment she feels it in her throat, thick semen being pumped down into her needy stomach.

Her cup-able breasts twitch with her body’s jerking movement, her hands now shaking, as her voice box transfers a bestial growl that vibrates Adris’ penis. It enhances his pleasurable release, as she purrs in worship of the cock he is blessing her with.

The eyes Adris can barely see, a beautiful shade of purple for the irises, roll straight back into her head as she passes out from her own pleasure, Adris’ abuse, and the growing lack of air in her lungs.

Adris feels the woman go limp, quickly pulling her head off of his dick and releasing it, just in time for her to fall out of the chair.

Hitting her face on the examination table Adris is on, she falls brokenly to the floor.

He can hear her coughing and belching, her body struggling for air, and a strange whimpering sound rising after, as the woman lays in a puddle of her own urine and saliva.

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