Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

While immune to outside disturbances in the conventional sense, the confines of Chaldea Security Organization are sometimes consumed by tumult of its own making. Being a clandestine and supernatural organization established for the protection of the past, future, and present, the trouble that finds it rarely (if ever) adheres to the norm. As well, its limited staff and the preoccupation of their ranks with all manner of temporal anomaly typically leaves the resolution of this trouble to a handful of intimately related individuals with a single point of common interest.

In the organization’s ‘present’, these individuals take the shape of Fujimaru Ritsuka and the Heroic Spirits accumulated throughout his work as a master. Particularly prolific amongst his peers, the sheer number of servants at his disposal and their emotional connection to him normally results in his being among the first points of contact for incidents related to Chaldea—no matter how sudden or troublesome.

On a day that should have been devoted to relaxation and satiation with his fully bonded servants, Ritsuka’s propensity for ‘contribution’ encountered an obstacle in the form of the same recruitment process that had seen him inducted into Chaldea in the first place. 

Seemingly out of nowhere, a young man by the name of Suizetsu was recruited off of the street and delivered to Chaldea for what was supposed to be a typical orientation. Tall, burly, and yet barely older than Ritsuka upon his induction, his physical durability and the density of his mana mutually suggested extremely high capacity as a member of the organization.

As it turned out, though, his possessing these traits was no mere coincidence. Towards the end of his orientation, ‘something’ motivated the youth to show off the absolute limits of his strength. In doing so, he invoked a modification of the Evil Dragon Phenomenon within himself to transform into a bipedal wyvern imbued with his sense of self and memories. 

Selection as the master in charge of his orientation saddled Ritsuka and his servants with handling this problem. In particular, the appearance of a seemingly normal human with the ability to utilize a phenomenon of the past at will (however poorly) necessitated investigation from those knowledgeable in matters of the body.

Before she could be selected, Florence Nightingale volunteered herself for resolving the situation. Overcome by disgust at the make of the wyvern’s body and its infection of Chaldea with evil mana (among other things), she recommended a mixture of medical tests and examinations geared towards determining how the phenomenon had warped Suizetsu’s body and how to go about controlling it.

A layman in manners unrelated to summoning, Ritsuka delegated this task to her without hesitation, and in doing so fashioned another instance of ‘trouble’ for the confines of Chaldea…

One both entirely avoidable, and far more sordid than the norm.

-

EXAMINATION ROOM—CHALDEA

To shrink in the face of a patient’s plight is to abandon one’s claim to the title of ‘healer’. Early on within her time on the battlefield, experience repeatedly impressed this reality onto Nightingale until it became a part of her.

Summoning by Ritsuka and the numerous ordeals that they overcame as a pair changed nothing for her. In both the idyllic simplicity of her life within Chaldea and the life-or-death struggles that she engaged in as a servant, her ‘core’ as one destined to heal the suffering of others refused to yield to any of the challenges set ahead of it.

For a time, Nightingale had been of the opinion that her latest task would prove no different. In no way unfamiliar with the wyverns and dragons of old, a sentient, smaller, and fundamentally human iteration did not strike her as a cause for concern. However intriguing from an investigatory standpoint, her belief in herself and her capacity for healing promised a swift and seamless resolution for whatever illness had caused Suizetsu’s transformation.

Upon sequestering herself into a medical examination room alongside him, reality began to argue otherwise. Endowed with a leather-hewn muscularity and nearly 8 feet of ‘packaging’ for it, Suizetsu’s wyvern form was an eyesore by definition.  Moss-green scales balanced by a pale-tanned underbelly that accentuated the definition of his pectorals and abdominals, the bestial simplicity that should have defined his frame was offset by human sensibilities that ‘resonated’ with Nightingale’s womanhood in the worst sense possible.

By themselves, scaly pectorals and abdominals should not have been enough to addle her this way. Given the fanged snout and blood-red eyes above them– to say nothing of the fanged appendages that propped them up–compartmentalizing Suizetsu as a sickly beast should have been second nature for her.

To her dismay, the organs at his crotch complicated this. Precisely where his lower abdominals ended, a trail of oily black pubic hair led down to the root of a monstrous, evergreen tower of grease-lathered cockflesh. Nearly 2 feet in length (a startling 22-inches if her eyes had measured it correctly), its extension through the space ahead of his crotch consumed a fraction of her line of sight each and every time she glanced at him. 

A number of these glances combined with overbearing stenches drawn in through her nostrils to impress the throbbing tower’s virility down to a dangerous depth within her psyche. In the former, Nightingale found a log-like bisection of its face with the turgid outline of its urethra, sometimes coiled, sometimes elongated veins half the width of her palm, and a bulbous, dark-green cocktip enveloped within a sock of leathery flesh loaded to obesity with steaming filth. In the latter, she caught cunt-soaking whiffs of a sour, semen-based aroma enhanced by overpowering amounts of sweat, urine, and coagulation. 

The predilections of her biology used the information that she acquired as an excuse to seek out even more. In the midst of preparing for the examinations she had planned, Nightingale regularly positioned herself to take in Suizetsu’s genitals from different angles. At one, she found that the still-growing tower was thicker than Ritsuka’s calves were wide. At another, pomegranate-sized testicles drawn within a sweat-loosened sac of pube-smattered flesh were revealed as hanging from its root. Finally, at a distance far closer than she should have entertained, her nose discerned that the rancid, curd-dense smegma packed within his foreskin was likely a product of weeks without proper cleaning or sanitation.

When at last her senses came to terms with the beast she had sequestered herself with, a steady oozing of gluey cuntsyrup was initiated within her folds, and a trying flush was ignited (and subsequently maintained) at her cheeks.

In her intimate familiarity with the inner workings of the body, Nightingale understood these things as signage that her current task might be beyond her. In spite of this, the completion of her preparations led her to glove her hands and proceed over to her ‘patient’ as she would’ve in any other situation.

In doing so, she became a lamb to the slaughter. Content to ‘play along’ with the examination that was suggested for him, Suizetsu spent every second leading up to her approach drinking in the sight of Nightingale’s frame in a manner far more blatant than the glances that she had cast at him.

Through them, the necessity of his participation was ‘reiterated’ by the scale of her breasts, the wobbling protrusion of her buttocks, and the fertile reek that bled from every pore of exposed skin about her frame.

Situated over two feet below him, deriving sexual arousal from her body was as simple as turning his gaze down towards her and looking.

Due to a phenomenon that Ritsuka had briefly described as his ‘maxing out’ his bond level with her,  Nightingale’s 5 foot 4 inch frame was loaded with flesh, fat, and useless musculature that rendered her a physical ‘mismatch’ with her Master. Though her pale complexion was left perfectly unblemished and her crimson eyes as piercing and driven as ever, her appearance below the neck left her virtually indistinguishable from the servant that he had originally summoned.

Simply put, she was better. At her chest, rucksack-sized breasts engorged with a biased blend of fat and flesh forced her crimson military jacket open from its middle buttons right up to the collar at her neck. Woefully undersized for the mounds’ that it contained, the opposing ends of the jacket were pushed out across the face of both mounds such that the gumdrop pink of both of her areolas’ fringes could be seen pushing out from under it. 

Where their ‘peaking’ ended, the low-set, palm-width nipples affixed to the middle of her mounds tented the fabric atop them into a skin-tight state that invalidated them. Pushed into the jacket by the sloping weight that they maintained and their perky settlement just above Nightingale’s midsection, the whorishness of their presentation (and the platter of glossy cleavage meat to either side of them) allowed Suizetsu to visualize what her tits might look like uncovered with scarily effective ease.

Appealing in and of itself, the obscene excess of her breasts removed all need for a dedicated stare at their flesh. Satisfied within a few seconds of motion, timely turns from Nightingale allowed him to turn his attention to her buttocks and midsection respectively.

Much like her military coat, the black pleated skirt that should have descended across her thighs was hiked upward by the swell of two beachball-scale buttocks snugly pocketed within a pair of stretched black pantyhose. As prone to wobbling as her tits were jiggling, their scale reduced her skirt to a useless hood of fabric draped across just under 40% of her buttocks’ length. ‘Decent’ solely as a result of the garment set under them, the combined width of her cheeks seemed inches short of completely overwhelming her master’s wingspan–assuming he attempted to wrap his arms around them from the front.

As if aware of the ‘mana’ that her body had purposed at her buttocks, Nightingale’s hips and thighs offered width and girth that complimented her rear’s scale. Pressed outward by curvature that threatened to tear it, the waistline of her skirt sat an inch or so underneath two mushily-padded hip flares. Gropabale to the eye, yet carrying all of the sturdy striations required for childbirth, their structure ‘balanced’ her lower body in much the same way that the quad-indented tree trunks of fatty thigh flesh below them did. Ultimately, the difference between the regions was one of nuance; her hips offered fertility, and her thighs focused on projecting a meaty yet distinctly feminine ‘strength’.

Right as Suizetsu’s cock began fattening at the sight of these assets, another turn from Nightingale revealed the foremost failing of her outfit. As her military coat was shortened by her breasts and her skirt depressed by her hips, a stretch of her midsection measuring from the peak of her belly button down to the beginning of her mons’ chub sat exposed to the open air.

At the peak of this stretch, abdominal indentations surrounded by a modest layer of squishy fat created yet another paradox of fertility and strength. Though her midsection itself was wide enough for a perfect transition down to the span of her hips, the extra meat exposed at her belly left little to the imagination as to her capacity for taking cock.

Compounding their exposure was a creeping ascent of pale-pink pubic hair up from her mons. Likely unchecked for weeks on end, a scraggly path of hair could be seen trailing up her lower abdominals to a stopping point at the base of her belly button. Further, their wiry disorganization suggested that a certain amount of additional hair persisted at the covered face of her crotch as well.

When at last Nightingale ceased her preparations and presented herself ahead of him, Suizetsu stood convinced that her purpose as a ‘Servant’ was more closely related to draining the cocks of her companions than it was supporting them in combat.

Consequently, her first words towards him were met with the same flippant confidence that he might’ve brandished towards a whore walking the streets of Tokyo.

“K-Kitanai. Have you no shame? Your body is utterly sanitary.” Nightingale exhaled, punitively. “Wyvern or no, I have my doubts that your transformation is to blame for the extent of it. I’ve encountered many of your kind, and while few were sentient, even fewer were as filthy as you are now.”

“Should you continue to carry such…f-filth about your frame, your constitution is bound to suffer eventually. After I get to the bottom of your transformation, I will be conducting a thorough assessment of the functional baseline for all of your internal organs to ensure that you haven’t damaged them too badly.”

Catching her gaze in a steady descent down towards the shaft pointing at her cleavage, Nightingale hastily wrenched her line of sight back upwards before continuing to speak.

“F-For now, though, let’s focus on your body. I assume you have at least some control of your magic circuits, so to start, do any of them feel abnormally worn or heavy?” she asked, calmly. “Sensations like that might point towards the circuits that were initially activated for whatever spell or curse is responsible for this.”

“Anything you can describe would be helpful. It is vital that we get to the bottom of this, so I will not chastise you should your answer be vulgar.”

To this, Suizetsu produced a rumbling chuckle, and a sneer that made the fangs lining his snout appear even sharper.

When Nightingale’s stern features softened into an embarrassed scowl, he put an end to her suffering with a single plunge of one of his clawed hands down to the root of his shaft.

This done, he pulled the towering organ just far enough upwards to draw further attention to the underside of his cockroot and the bloated testicles that hung from it.

“Y’know, now that you mention it, there are a couple of places on my body that feel a little backed up.” he started, jovially. “I don’t have an excuse for any of your bellyaching about the way my dragon body is set up, but to be honest, I kind of doubt you actually care about any of that,”

“That said, if you wanna check out the circuits inside my nuts, that’d probably be the best place to start. That’s if you don’t end up squirting like a retard from the stink, anyway!.”

By all rights, the contents of Suizetsu’s retort ought to have turned Nightingale’s scowl into a hateful glare. Had these words come from Ritsuka’s mouth gilded by the same depraved candor, a long-winded lecture as to the importance of dignity and cleanliness for a commander was likely to have exploded from her lips at a menacing volume.

As spoken by Suizetsu, their weight curled her lips into a girlish tremble and briefly sharpened her breathing. Equally embarrassed and frustrated, the fit of laughter that accompanied them prompted her to fight against the overbearing stench and humidity wafting in from ahead of her in search of a semblance of dignity.

Funnily enough, her pursuit of it resulted in her throwing away her only chance at maintaining it only seconds later.

“D-Damarinasai! I did say that I wouldn’t be offended if your answer was vulgar, but that is no excuse for you to attempt to degrade me!” she spat. “T-That said, how you speak to me isn’t important right now. You require treatment and further examination, so seat yourself over there so that I can begin!”

Towards the end of her retort, Nightingale raised her gloved left hand up a firm point towards the surgical table on the left side of the room. This done, she took a step forward to further assert the ‘seriousness’ of the matter without taking care to mitigate the jiggling of her breasts.

In these things, Suizetsu found ground with which to take another harmless risk. Shrugging his shoulders at Nightingale’s suggestions, he proceeded over towards the table that she had pointed out one clawed footstep at a time. Ahead of it, he sat atop it as a human might a chair and spread his thighs ever so slightly to set both his cock and balls up to an imposing hang over the table edge underneath his crotch.

Suizetsu knew that these actions were innocuous, but he produced them anyway. Given Nightingale’s bluster and her ‘commitment’ to her craft, their sum was defined in advance as a monotonous medical examination that just so happened to concern his genitals.

As it happened, no such examination occurred. Within seconds of his taking his seat, Nightingale wobbled her way up to a position directly ahead of his cock. Pushing her hands outward on arrival, she took advantage of the stark contrast between their heights to fold her palms around the root of his shaft as a brace.

Intoxicated by the organ’s wriggling heat, she descended down into an extremely slight squat moments later. Dipping her skull underneath Suizetsu’s cocktrunk (this so as to avoid the task of lifting it herself), she next moved her mouth and nostrils as close to the drooping bloat of his testicles as she could before the concentrated miasma of stink that emanated from them stopped her.

For a split second, the sight of the grease-lathered orbs wiped her purpose as a healer from her mind. Wide-eyed and stupefied, she trailed her eyes across inches of leather and pubes before the distracting quivers that rippled through her cunt reminded her of her position–

Before she gorged herself, she required an excuse to do so. 

“I-I will be beginning your treatment now, so hold still. I believe that this is necessary for the circuits within your body, so I’d ask that you refrain from entertaining any strange thoughts about my intentions.” she started, shakily.

“Feel free to let me know if you feel any improvements throughout as well.”

No sooner did the last of her words slide across Nightingale’s lips did she snap her lips forward into a firm kiss against the reeking face of Suizetsu’s testicles. Intentionally planting them at the dead center of his sac (i.e., where the inner fringes of his bloated testicles met), contact with the region set her mouth’s slender pillows into contact with a grotesque mess of grease, pubes, and loose, leathery flesh.

The revulsion imposed by the scents and textures that she subjected herself to failed to stifle her. More ‘curious’ in the wake of their onset than debilitated, the first kiss that she delivered was followed up by a slow, sac-stretching peel of her lips away from their point of contact. At the retraction’s end, the moist *PLRP* noise that popped from her lips as sac flesh slipped between them bled into the delivery of a second hasty kiss, and a third straight after that. Indifferent to the curled wires of pubic hair smeared to the edges of her mouth in the process, her efforts eventually transitioned into a flurry of healthy pecks that created spittle-laden kiss marks all about the exterior of Suizetsu’s shaft.

Nightingale’s ‘excuse’ for these kisses lay in the information that they contained. Through them, she acquired brief mental images depicting the flow of mana through the magic circuits at Suizetsu’s crotch. However, as each one only provided a fraction of the overall picture that she required, the application of several were required for her to fully grasp the state of his innards.

A dozen or so—or perhaps even the use of her hands—should have sufficed for the creation of the ‘picture’ that she required. In spite of this, she persisted with their delivery well past her 20th kiss whilst huffing the brain-addling stink of Suizetsu’s wyvern sperm into her brain like a starved degenerate gorging on narcotics.

In the wake of her 21st, a plan of action took shape within her mind. Deeming its conveyance as more important than plastering her lips with cockgrease, she briefly pulled her reddened features backwards and addressed the sperm factories ahead of her as though they constituted her patient’s face. 

Unsurprisingly, her doing so destroyed what little ‘formality’ persisted in her impromptu treatment session.

“I…”

“’ai think I know ‘hat’s wrong, n-now…” she started, words addled equally by her breathing and saliva. “Some of the circuits d-down here are soaking up t-too much of your mana. I-It’s caused your testicles to become more productive than they should be.”

“I-I can’t fix something like h’is without surgery, but for now…”

“I c-can at least relieve your suffering a bit ♥.”

Intentions stated, Nightingale parted her lips to act on them. Slow and deliberate in her process, she pushed humid breaths of air out ahead of Suizetsu’s nuts and progressively erected wobbling towers of dense spittle between the roof of her mouth and the face of her tongue. 

Once the meaty bulk of her tongue was exposed to the open air, she surged forward to apply it as a starved animal. Pushing the organ outward through her ingress, contact between her tastebuds and the sour virility caked to Suizetsu’s testicles led her to flick her skull upwards to swipe the organ’s lower half through a vertical stroke straight up along the middle of his sac’s face.

Suppressing her revulsion by the sweat and sac grime that she smeared off across her tongue’s face, she used the first stroke that she completed as a template for countless others delivered over the course of the next few seconds.  Initially focusing on the dead center of Suizetsu’s nuts, the layering of heavy spittle smears along these regions quickly resulted in her angling her skull to the left and right so as to ensure the opposing sides of the drooping satchel received just as much attention as its front.

Her aim in these strokes was a cock-addled iteration of the ‘standard treatment’ for engorged magic circuits. So far as she could tell, the layered gloss of sweat and aged semen plastered to his balls had resulted in their internal temperature rising to an uncomfortable level. Made to perspire even more actively as a result (this alongside what she imagined to be a gross overproduction of disgusting semen), she reasoned that a ‘vicious cycle’ had taken shape both within and outside Suizetsu’s genitals.

Presently, her only means of easing the discomfort that it had created for her patient was removing as much of the filth caked onto his balls as she could. In doing so, she could kill two birds with a single stone: removing the cause of his sac’s perspiration and allowing the drooping orbs an opportunity to breathe.

According to the squirming of her uterus, the best way for her to approach this was plastering its entirety with spit. So, in between humid breaths and squeaky groans brought about the bitter, squirming flavors that she introduced into her mouth, Nightingale applied stroke after stroke of her tongue in pursuit of a particular result.

Effective in spite of her herself, what she desired came about a minute or so into the delivery of her strokes. Violated from tip to root by sacfilth, the tastebuds of her tongue pushed her mouth into a state of salivation better suited for the leaking slot between her legs. 

Suddenly granted an endless supply of lubrication, Nightingale turned the strokings of her tongue into the swivels of a soaked mop of flesh. This time beginning at the peak of his right testicle, she mushed the bottom half of her contact into the pube-mattered region and pushed its flesh in on itself using inward pressure from her skull. Then, after raising both of her hands up to a two-handed press against the root of Suizetsu’s cock, she took to rolling the spittle-soaked meat of her tongue around in wide circles to smear her mouth’s goo across as much of the region as she could.

Unlike the tongue strokes that preceded them, these rotations disturbed the soaked grime on his sac into a fluid state that she could draw into her mouth. Content to work until she felt the substance caked underneath her lips, she subsequently cleared the messes that her organ created by kissing her lips into brief slurps across the sites that she had worked at. By virtue of the unlimited access created by her upturning Suizetsu’s erection, she successfully spread her process across his sac’s entirety within a matter of minutes.

Needless to say, none of the successes that she enjoyed were acquired freely. Between the concentrated cockstink that she huffed into her nose on a second by second basis and the brain-rotting flavors infused into the meat of her tongue, all of Nightingale’s concentration and devotion were required for her to make her way through these transitions.

Further, every second that she committed to them chipped away at her willingness to produce them. Although far more tolerant to disgust and suffering than the average ‘healer of the sick’, the otherworldly excess of muck that she slurped between her lips eventually infected the focused silence within her mind with icy groans of complaint.

This was not the sort of complaint that suggested a lack of capacity, however–

If anything, the tone of her voice and the words that she chose suggested a latent desire to provide Suizetsu with even more medical attention than he was already receiving.

“Khhh, nigaiiiii♥. W-Wyvern cockfilth is so bitter–it’s only been a few minutes, but it’s already completely violated my tongue.” she mewled to herself. “I-It’s my own fault as well–had I noticed his affliction sooner, I may have been able to prepare myself to attend to his balls more effectively. Now I have no choice but to slurp against his stinking sperm factories until I can create relief for them…”

“I-I cannot spend too much time here, either. There are far more deeply rooted circuits that require my attention, and it’s possible t-that…”

“T-That my…”

Consumed within a particularly focused stint of musing, Nightingale found her lips pinched to a particularly loose wad of sac flesh, and her tongue engaged in a starved flutter both inside and out of her mouth.

Upon recognition of these things, the squirming ignited within her cunt brought her ministrations to a halt just long enough to incite complaint from the ‘patient’ that she was treating.

Thus far content to sneer whilst his reproductive organs were attended to, Suizetsu contributed to proceedings by plunging a clawed hand down to the back of Nightingale’s skull and bracing another around the root of his cocktrunk.

A moment later, a slanted form of eye contact was established between the two of them for the first time in minutes.

“Guhhooou! You’ve really got a knack for this, huh Nightingale-chan. That Master of yours must’ve trained you to fatten a guy’s load really well!” he snarled, happily. “Somethin’ wrong, though? I was just starting to feel better down there and you went and stopped–d’you need something from me or somethin’?”

Forced to acknowledge the world outside of Suizetsu’s cock and balls with her full attention again, Nightingale sheepishly spewed his sac flesh from between her lips and did her utmost to reset her facial expression into a semblance of the ‘norm’ for it. 

Understandably ignorant to the nature of her task, ‘satisfaction’ with this effort found her with a crooked smile on her face and a mess of pubes glued to her lips.

“...I-It’s ah…i-it’s nothing. It’s my responsibility to treat you correctly, s-so I don’t require any assistance.” she huffed, weakly. “T-The reason I’ve stopped is that your affliction is t-too severe for me to focus on one place for too long. I believe I’ve attended to your testicles properly, s-so I thought it best to inquire about your current needs.”

“A-Are you feeling better now, or worse?”

After several minutes spent enjoying the sometimes sharp, sometimes gooey ‘treatments’ applied by her lips and tongue, Suizetsu found himself without a single complaint as to the quality of Nightingale’s work. At the same time, however, he was far from satisfied with it. As the ‘sum’ of her slurping was an engagement of his cockroot with fresh semen, his sole desire in the present was the creation of an opportunity to blow it all out into one of his nurse’s holes.

Noting the delirious stupidity spread out on her face, he compromised with himself. So as to create unrestricted access for himself, he pushed his scaled haunch back across the table behind him and drew his left foot into a clawed perch atop the edge he had seated himself atop. Then, whilst pushing his lower back into contact with the stretch of table behind him, he pushed his left hand down into a cupping of his ballsac that ultimately drew the sloping organs out of their curtaining of his taint.

The product of these transitions set the second ‘problem area’ of his frame directly ahead of Nightingale’s face:

A striated rosebud of green anus flesh drenched in several long rivulets of her own spittle.

“Ya know, now that you mention it, My sac’s actually feeling great. Right now, most of my discomfort is coming from the inside of my asshole.” Suizetsu replied, sneering. “That’s probably a little out of your area of expertise though, huh? I mean, I doubt the guy that summoned you trained you to slurp spit off’a his asshole for fun, right?”

“And, sure, you’re trying tah treat me, but you’ve gotta have some kind of limit–”

“Unless you’re the type of filth-addicted onahole that gets off on being used like a dickrag, of course!”

As intended, Suizetsu’s words set Nightingale between a rock and a hard place. In the wake of the exposure of the wyvern’s slop-greased asshole, the needy quivering of her innards became a rhythmic throb complete with an audible sputters of cuntsyrup between her lower lips. Simultaneously, his words forced her to look and assess the realities of her position. Although honor-bound to provide treatment to anyone in need of her, attending to Suizetsu would require her to provide him with something she had never so much as teased to Ritsuka. Having already plastered the middle of her cleavage with frothy spit in pursuit of Suizetsu’s treatment, something about this rubbed her opinion of herself the wrong way.

Ill-equipped for a proper judgement call, the impasse she had arrived at was solved by her cunt:

In the wake of a particularly gutting contraction, Nightingale snapped her skull forward again just as she had minutes prior. This time parting the greased pillows into a suckling kiss that matched the width of Suizetsu’s sphincter, she reduced her mouth to a greedy suction cup for its flesh in the blink of an eye.

In the midst of this, she sold her actions to herself as a necessity…

If she did not properly attend to Suizetsu’s magic circuits, no one would.

“I-I have to do this–i-it’s shameful and disgusting, but I must–”

“If properly treating a patient requires me to be a cockdrunk dickrag, I must be the best one that I can be ♥ .”

Incidental to the reverberation of these words within her skull was a display of encouragement from the sneering wyvern above her. Waiting until the exact moment that she kissed her lips around his sphincter, Suizetsu pushed his clawed palm inwards and forcibly locked Nightingale's lips and face into contact with his ass.

This done, he motivated her with his voice.

Gho-ho!! That’s th’ spot! Now dig in there and slurp me up properly, he grunted. “Thanks for being such a helpful dicknurse, Nightingale-chan!”

Wrought from the impetus that Suizetsu created was an instance of asshole slurping defined by dedication. With her nostrils plugged even closer to the wriggling reservoir of semen contained within him, Nightingale was reduced to a state of stupidity that demanded she tighten her lips into a firm suckle around the anus flesh they had encapsulated. First pushing her kiss as deep as she could manage, she subsequently began suckling back against the button of flesh until the pressure she generated pulled it into contact with her tongue.

Unavoidably, sucking to this extent hollowed her cheeks into her mouth and rendered her features even more perverse than they had been during her lapping at Suizetsu’s testicles. Long since detached from thoughts about what she looked like while working, Nightingale repeatedly produced the suction that was required of her with enough consistency to mush the flesh of Suizetsu’s rosebud into domineering impressions against the face of her tongue.

Each one that she earned for herself served as a cue for her to push her treatment further. Recalling the internal nature of Suizetsu’s complaints, she met each compression of sphincter flesh against her tongue with a hearty swirl of the organ that saw fresh glazes of saliva drawn across it. In the wake of their application, the natural drop off in her lips’ suction prompted her to hungrily slurp excess amounts of spit back into her mouth lest she allow herself to become ‘lazy’.

For all of its effectiveness, the pattern of drawn-out *SCHLLLRR~* and manic *PPUAAH!* noises produced between her sucking and tonguing lasted all of a half-minute before it was replaced by something more effective.

At this juncture, Nightingale reminded herself that Suizetsu’s affliction was internal and not external. In recognition of this, she abruptly dropped all suction away from the face of his anus in favor of a deep, spittle buffered kiss against his hole similar to her first.

This time, she did not merely allow his anus to sit against the face of her tongue. In yet another display of the liquefied state of her mind, a last-second flick of Nightingale’s tongue set its tip through to a slimy ingress into the humid confines of Suizetsu’s insides. Of her own volition, she pushed this ingress further until her slop-greased organ was depressed into her patient’s intestines down to the root.

From this point onward, she became insatiable. In place of the revulsion that might’ve consumed a weaker servant, Nightingale rolled the bloat of her tongue around the bestial gut flesh that surrounded it in search of the organ to blame for Suizetsu’s discomfort. 

A nurse by trade, she stumbled upon what she was looking for as a matter of course. After aggressively prodding at every pocket of gutmeat surrounding her tongue, a hint of rigidity pushed across its peak triggered a sandwiching of all of its weight right up against it.

The sensation of warm flesh pushing in against Suizetsu’s prostate ignited something unique within him. In the first place, bringing her mouth into contact with it was the only thing that he actually desired from the event. All the same, the invasive wriggle of her tongue within his rear as coupled with the stroking grind of its flesh near his prostate reaped a degree of stimuli that even his bestial frame refused to ignore.

In response to it, he surged upright for the first time in minutes.

“KU-HYUUU! Now THAT hit the fucking spot!” snarled Suizetsu, throatily. “I think I’m just about ready to spew out whatever’s giving my insides all this grief!”

“You’ve done plenty so far, so I’ll be taking it from here Nightingale-chan!”

Little time was allotted for Nightingale to react to Suizetsu’s declaration. Although just as well given her preoccupation with grinding her tongue within his asshole, the speed at which he transitioned from patient to aggressor made for quite the sight within the examination room.

Without a moment’s notice, Suizetsu surged back up to his feet and lowered his hands down to contact with Nightingale’s body in tandem. Upright, the renewed disparity between their heights required a brief bend of his knees, which in turn resulted in the impression of his clawed hands at the wide grooves of her hips. Unaffected by the succulent rigidity that his palms found at the region, he afterwards applied these grasps to hoist her onto her feet such that the wobbling bloat of her breasts and the muscular pudge at her midsection were pressed in against his cock and balls respectively.

Next, he spun her. Whirling her into back first contact with his chest, he exchanged his grasp on her hips for an abrasive impression of his palms at her lower back. With them, he dipped her upper body down to a depth just short of a 90-degree bend at her hips, and thereafter drew them back down to her hips one final time.

Here, his status as a dragon became particularly useful. One poke at a time, he pushed his claws underneath the fabric of her skirt and tights and wrenched his wrist to see their coverage torn away from the alabaster flesh that they covered. Applying only as much ruination as was required to see the miniature boulders of buttocks flesh affixed to her rear exposed to the open air, he hastily abandoned these activities for yet another shift in gears.

This time, it concerned the alignment of his crotch. Stepping backwards just far enough for the two-foot bloat of his filth-caked erection to fall to an imposing point at the meat of Nightingale’s rear, he pushed the process along by aligning his smegma-fattened cocktip into a vertical point straight at the squirt-soaked mound of cuntflesh between her legs.

His completion of these efforts made further participation a pointless endeavor for Nightingale. Still, her recognition of what her alignment would amount to and the steaming need that had consumed her uterus inspired her to offer herself up anyway.

Pushing both of her arms back behind her, she found the inner fringes of her asscheeks with her fingers and depressed them until she could peel their flesh apart to better expose her holes.

Then, without any of her earlier sheepishness or rigidity, she turned her head backwards to direct a smile at the towering monstrosity behind her—

A whorish display of submission if there ever was one.

“…If this is the t-treatment you require, go right ahead. My purpose is to aid the sick, so you need not concern yourself with my wellbeing…”

“Relieve yourself with my slobbering insides as much as you’d like ♥.”

Despite their addling by a steady descent of mucus from her nostrils, the words that Nightingale spoke from her new position were her clearest in several minutes.

Appropriately, she earned a succinct response for them in turn. Before her invitation could even begin to sit within the open air, a weight-backed thrust from Suizetsu’s hips plunged the gloved bloat of his foreskin into an invasive grind through the mouth of her cunt. In time with this, his hands returned to controlling impressions to either side of her hips and dragged her lower body into the skewering provided by his cock.

Together, these things produced a seamless, gut-fattening hilt of his erection through from the mouth of her cunt right through to the permissive puffiness of her cervix. In an instant dominated by a grotesque *SCLRSH!* noise and the slippage of green, grime-caked cockflesh through a syrup-gilded slot, the muscular pudge of her midsection was distended by an arm’s length of cockflesh whilst the ample fat of her buttocks was mounted in against itself by the rigidity of his crotch.

Snarling heartily, Suizetsu’s intent regarding Nightingale’s offer became apparent over the next few seconds. Wielding the strength of a wyvern with the abandon of an orgasm-starved human male, he curled his hips outwards ever so slightly to slide his exposed glans flesh out of its tenting impression against her cervix.

For every inch he drew outwards, he dipped his torso downwards and compressed the feral slant of his knees to facilitate it. At a 5-inch mark perfect for imposing the weight of his torso, he ended his retraction with a curled slam of his hips and another vein-accentuating wrench of his arms.

All on its own, this thrust served as a foundation for a seamless chain of short-length plunges back and forth through Nightingale’s cunt. Taking the heat and suction put out by her cervix as a challenge, bestial instincts manipulated his frame into bouncing back and forth between impression and retraction as quickly as he could.

So far as Suizetsu was concerned, the initiation of this thrusting chain served only to fill the air with vibrant *PLAPP~* noises whilst the meat of his cock was scrubbed through Nightingale’s womanhood. 

Such was the cost of the bestial skin that he wore. Though far more ‘good’ was wrought from the beginnings of his pummel, his mind refused to concern itself with anything other than the stimulation injected into his cock.

First and foremost, his second hilt snapped Nightingale’s skull up from a languid droop below her shoulders. Eyes crossed and lips edged with individual strands of saliva, the stimuli provided by her initial gutting penetration layered itself atop the reproduction of its tenants to scramble her brain into a state that could only process pleasure. 

As a result, her attentions fell to the cock-inflated bloat of her stomach and the skewered confines of her cunt. Within the latter, the length and girth of Suizetsu’s cock had resulted in the pink-red congestion of her inner walls being spread away from one another. Thereafter, the underside of her canal was molested by the blood vessels coiled across its face through a greasy layer of cockflesh, and its peak with the rigorous throbbing of his urethra’s underside.

In time with her innards molestation was a sensation of ‘marring’ fashioned by her disposition. During its initial slide through her folds, Suizetsu’s foreskin was forcibly peeled over the meat of his cock as a sock bloated with cottage cheese. By the time it arrived at her cervix, a modest layer of the grime built up across his glans was naturally smeared across the sodden canal inches leading up to this point.

The reproduction and acceleration of these thrusts turned these layers into a murky build-up of mire within seconds. Owed primarily to her innards’ refusal to cease their sodden contraction against his member’s bulk, a pattern of melting, scrubbing, and peeling was soon applied as an additive for the skewering of her folds.

In the same span of seconds that her mind was subjected to this, the bloating and deflation of her midsection with cockflesh made the stirring of her innards seem almost irrelevant. 

By default, having 2 feet of cockflesh slotted into her folds reduced the confines of Nightingale’s cunt to a flesh-encased onahole. Per hilt, her cervix was depressed further up into her guts, and the muscular chub at her midsection was stretched upwards and outwards as if no more rigid than untrained flesh. 

Nothing within her womanhood was capable of mitigating this. No matter how her folds clenched inwards or how the mana that she absorbed from Ritsuka supported her, all of it was undone over the course of a single gut-wrenching slam of Suizetsu’s hips. 

Soon enough, the bruising inflation of her midsection gave way to a smattering of strained red flesh at the middle of her abdominals. As well, the battering-ram impacts driven against her cervix progressively reduced its function from that of a defensive button to a slurping suction cup for her suitor’s urethra and cocktip.

Inexplicably, the discomfort that should have accompanied these things was perceived by her as raw pleasure. Try as she might to acknowledge it with her voice, the congestion of her throat with stupefied groans and breathy pants forced her management of it inwards.

With her ears filled with vigorous *SLRSH* noises produced by the blending of her innards and the sound of her assfat clapping against a scaled crotch, Nightingale attempted to think her way through what was happening to her as a form of medical exercise.

Not surprisingly, the sum of her doing so was the intensification of an already-cutting amount of stimulation.

“I-I’m being masturbated with. M-My insides are being beaten and squeezed like a disposable onahole.” 

*PLAPP-SPLORTCH-PLAPP-GLORTCH*

“Is this truly proper treatment? Cockfilth is being smeared all over my inner walls. E-Everything—the hole that I used to pleasure Ritsuka is being reorganized and violated by Suizetsu’s cock…”

*PLAPP-SPLORTCH-PLAPP-GLORTCH*

“N-None of this should be enjoyable for me. My focus should be on my patient’s relief, but I can’t help it.”

*PLAPP-SPLORTCH-PLAPP-GLORTCH*

“Being brutalized by such a monstrous cock feels so good ♥ ~!”

What was cause for a squealing epiphany for Nightingale was for Suizetsu all the more reason to keep to the pattern that he had established thus. While spared from the mind-rending epiphanies enjoyed by his muse, all of the pleasures that had contributed to its occurrence were imposed onto him in one manner or another.

For him, the ‘difference’ was a matter of processing. Fundamentally, his pummel of Nightingale’s guts consisted of two parts: the hilting of his shaft through the slimy embrace of her body cavity, and the wrenching extractions that followed. Whereas the former granted him the satisfaction of invading and subjugating her feminine innards with his frame–this coming from the defensive contractions her guts produced to try to slow his vein-studded member’s descent–the latter provided him with a challenge in the form of the clenching suction that her inner walls applied against the inches he attempted to wrench from them. Both lubricated by a mixture of balmy cuntsyrup and the melted sexual filths that were scrubbed off of his cock, volleying back and forth between them made for a very addictive experience from his perspective.

Neither of these pleasures represented the sum of his experience, however. Over time, the steady removal of smegma from around the swell of his glans rendered the tip of his shaft more vulnerable to stimulation. Beset by hotter heats and what he perceived to be sharper contractions, the same thrusts that had sent pleasant jolts of stimulation up his spine became gutting affairs that wrung hearty expulsions of precum through his cocktip. 

In the midst of this transition, his cocktrunk’s near-constant envelopment within some amount of sodden cuntflesh progressively replaced its filth coating with a slippery syrup glaze perfect for sharpening the pace of his thrusts. In return for this, though, the congealed bloat of her inner walls were felt more strongly by the exterior of his shaft, and the biting grind of their veins into heated flesh became more significant for him.

Having intended to indulge in Nightingale’s cunt to his heart’s content, neither of these happenings were perceived as grounds for ‘adjustment’ by him. Instead enticed towards additional consistency and brutality, the worrisome compaction of semen at his cockroot was pushed to the back of his mind to facilitate his pursuit of a destructive sexual high.

As a result of this, the repeated tenting of Nightingale’s body cavity with cockflesh became an increasingly potent experience for him.

Simply, the deeper his member slipped, the more intense the stimuli associated with it became for him. Slowly but surely, the jackhammer blows he delivered against her cervix seemed to welcome more of his glans’ bloat into the sauna-like prison set behind it. Simultaneously, his crotch’s clapping impressions into Nightingale’s assfat were tightened such that their wobblnig fat was made to feel like warm dough to him.

Worst–or perhaps best of all, the warmth of her body cavity amplified the sloppy humidity offered by her inner walls into something else entirely. Made to feel more and more like a full-body onahole for every stroke he delivered, Suizetsu’s mindless pursuit of stimulation soon became an endless chain of indulgence and generation.

All of these things culminated in a significant response from the wyvern only seconds after Nightingale embraced what was occurring to her.

Bellowing like a monstrosity, Suizetsu pushed his chest down to an angled slant above Nightingale’s back. Stopping just short of a depth that would see the weight of his torso slumped over her, he raised the settlement of his palms up from her hips into abusive compressions against the opposing sides of her face.

Settlement at the region reduced the opposing sides of her mouth to a set of reins. Utilizing the index and middle claws of both of his hands, Suizetsu fished the pre-gaped confines of her mouth open and pulled back on her skull to keep her frame drawn inward against his thrusts.

His completion of this ‘task’ left little to the imagination as to his intent. In spite of this, a motivation fashioned from the boiling nut at the root of his length and the monstrous breeding instinct he had installed himself with fished his desires into the open air in the form of a feral bellow.

In stark contrast to his last, its contents barely qualified as utterance.

“UUUUOOHHHH D-DERU!! I’M GONNA BEAT YOUR CUNT ‘TILL I BURST!!”

What followed was not so much a display of intent as it was an accelerated descent towards the inevitable. Leveraging his new position to his advantage, Suizetsu adopted a shorter, pummel-focused thrusting chain that left the majority of his cock to a piston-like bounce through the spread folds surrounding them.

Alongside more frequent splinters of stimulation through his shaft, these thrusts created a visceral duet of sexual noise as well. As every discharge of sexual lubricant from Nightingale’s folds became smothered by the presence of his crotch, the *PLAPP–PLORPP–PLAPP* produced at her rear acquired a distinctly sodden quality accented by the flop of his testicles against her destroyed outer lips. Additionally, the throat-like *GLRSH(s)* produced each time cockflesh was driven through her cunt acquired satisfying increases in volume to match the grotesque quality of their consequences.

Strictly speaking, Suizetsu did not desire anymore from his ministrations than what he received. Fanged maw grit in satisfaction and brain consumed by exertion’s fervor, all that remained from his perspective was the perpetuation of his metronome to its endpoint.

Incidentally, another reward found him on his way up to it. Out of nowhere, what should have been an all-consuming ascension of semen up to the root of his cock was enhanced by an outflow of vibrations against his fingers–

A saliva-kissed byproduct of useless noise spewed out into the open air.

“IIGUU! IGUU IGUU IGUU ♥!! ‘ILL ME ITH A’HCKHYUUUSE ♥!” Nightingale squealed, words addled by the digits within her mouth. “I’LL MY WOMB–’HOG ME FULL OF ‘ASTY ‘ACHKHYUSE!! (Fill me womb–clog me full of nasty cockjuice!!)”

“‘YUSE MEEEEEE~!”

To reiterate, further motivation for release was not something that Suizetsu needed. In the amount of time that Nightingale required to force these words across her tongue, the short-ranged nature of his thrusts and the otherworldly strength set behind them successfully wedged the tip of his glans up through her cervix. Seconds beyond this point, the compressed arcs of syrup that jetted from her folds as a result were applied as grease for the final leg of his thrusting salvo. 

One after another, destructive stabs of Suizetsu’s cocktrunk wore away at the seal gilding the root of his cock at an intolerable pace.

Long since subjugated, Nightingale’s hole could do nothing to slow them.

Nothing–

*PLORTH-PLATTCH-GLORPP*

Save– 

*PLORTH-PLATTCH-GLORPP*

Capitulation.

*SPLOOORSSSH!!*

In time with Suizetsu’s final fat-sandwiching compression of Nightingale’s asscheeks, an eruption of the squirming slop that had engorged the root of his length fashioned a localized explosion of nut straight through the dilation created at the center of Nightingale’s cervix. Contents all but sucked directly through his length, the palm-wide flourish’s contents were blasted out into a muffled splatter against the untouched peak of her uterus with enough force to produce a muffled splattering noise at her midsection.

With or without this force, the quality of Suizetsu’s stinking wyvern nut would’ve ensured that some form of noise rumbled out of her midsection regardless. Yellowed to a jaundiced state accented by the slightest hint of white and fattened with denatured nutrients such that it mirrored a bulbous, heat-loosened clay, Suizetsu’s seed epitomized the bestial nature of his frame and the overproductive make of his testicles. Contained within the first explosive flourish that was choked up through his urethra was a volume of nut that spread a semi-solid sludge reservoir across the top half of Nightingale’s uterus. For each forearm length burst of seed that followed, the confines of her uterus were consumed, and thereafter engorged into an increasingly plush and dumpy state.

Owed to this was a combination of pace and placement. Because each strand maintained enough sludge to consume more than half the natural volume of her uterus, the individual steaks and smears that a smaller orgasm might’ve provided were replaced by the engorgement of a half-completed reservoir. Per *GLORP* that sounded out from her middle, the substance’s compilation against itself taxed the confines of her babymaker into the same pliant submission that had consumed her cervix.

In this, the log-like bloating of her midsection was irrelevant. Though Suitzetsu remained hilted through her folds all throughout this inundation (a circumstance that maintained the bulge at her abdominals), the sheer amount of rancid cockjuice that his testicles had prepared for the occasion saw to the creation of a uniform paunch of semen that eventually subverted it. 

Of the assumption that he was inseminating a heated sow picked especially for him, Suizetsu spent the entirety of this process in a state of writhing bliss. Muscles locked in place by instinct, he unconsciously denied Nightingale’s frame anything that even slightly resembled respite.

With this came consequence. Soon enough, the sac-like fattening of her middle gave way to discharges of excess nut from the edges of her cuntlips in the form of heavy, batter-like outflows against his balls. Worsened for every second Suizetsu failed to pull out of this position, what began as a stuttered series of discharges became a near-constant outflow within a matter of seconds.

Suddenly made to deal with the sensation of semen burbling out of her as quickly as Suizetsu’s shaft spewed it into her, Nightingale’s insemination acquired yet another crippling coat of paint for her to dwell on. As though the writhe of countless portly sperm cells against themselves was not enough, the heated chunks that contained them were introduced into the spread confines of her vaginal canal as another lubricant. 

Whereas the majority of the substance was dumped out into growing puddles of semen beneath her cunt, certain amounts of the gunk were left to sit (and tease) the lining of her inner walls without ever being jarred out of place. Barely a minute into this process, its severity added wadded dregs of semen to the puffy, pube-smeared state of her cunt–a welcomed change of pace given the amount of squirt flushed through it in the preceding few minutes.

Expectedly, all of this vehemence and ubiquity amounted to utter debilitation for Nightingale. Denied the use of her mouth by the claw fishhooks that remained within it, a number of throaty groans and hiccups sputtered from the root of her maw in place of the verbalizations that she desired.

This, too, proved insufficient in time. As the expulsion of seed through Suizetsu’s cock began to ebb and the rounding of her midsection became to tighten, the warm slurry dominating her innards extorted acknowledgment from the remaining vestiges of her consciousness.

In it, the final morsels of her self dribbled of her lips with the same unintelligible insignificance as the squeals that had preceded it…

Presuming one could be bothered to pick their contents out of her babbling, of course.

“So much…”

“So much sperm is squrimin’ in my stomach ♥. It’s so thick and heavy that my ova won’t be able to resist being violated by them ♥.” she giggled. “I can feel it happening already. Having my womb beaten up like this has made me ovulate.”

“G-Gomen, Shireikan. Even though they’re not your babies, I have to make sure that I take care of however many I end up giving birth to…”

Utterly detached from the babbling of his cocksleeve, her words were ignored by Suizetsu from start to finish. It was not until the meat of his cock deflated enough for a splattering slippage of his cock out of her cunt that he regarded her words as they deserved to be:

In order, he dropped his hands away from her mouth, then backed away to allow her frame to fall stomach first against the ground as a discarded condom of flesh…

This without so much as glancing at what he had reduced her to.

Chapter Text

The atypical and frankly quite whorish manner in which Nightingale carried out her medical examination of Chaldea’s newest recruit did not stop her from gleaning useful information from it. In the hours that followed her bloating and subsequent abandonment by Suizetsu, the specifics of his plight and how best to go about dealing with it were solidified within her mind at the same pace that the mana contained within his seed was absorbed into her stomach.

So far as she could tell, Suizetsu had somehow ended up as the recipient of a miniaturization of the Evil Wyvern phenomenon last observed several hundred years in the past. Being a normal human as opposed to one with the lineage of a spellcaster or hero, its realization and severity were curtailed such that his transformation was reduced to a ‘switch’ that could be turned off and on in accordance with the state of his emotions. This aside, excess mana that should have resulted in one of insanity or internal implosion was diffused throughout his frame on a regular basis (this resulting in his impressive height, frame, and musculature).

Abnormal growth was not the only thing that his frame demanded in return for manifesting the form of an evil wyvern. Owing to the sheer amount of mana and physical resources that the phenomenon burned, Suizetsu’s wyvern form maintained an internal body temperature far hotter than the norm for a wyvern. To offset this, his leathery hide was warped to facilitate near-constant perspiration–particularly at his groin, armpits, and genitals. His refusal to properly bathe himself in this form gave rise to the noisome grease she had observed at his crotch, which in turn produced the virile stench that had addled her brain during her cleaning session.

On top of this, his reproductive organs were modified so that they might function as a ‘mana disposal unit’ as required. In the same way that the excess mana diffused to his musculature catalyzed its growth, the mana that made its way to his shaft and testicles was put to use in an overproduction of semen (a substance long since associated with mana transfer), and the injection of additional, length, girth, and vascularity into his shaft. Neglected by Suizetsu to the same extent as his hygiene, their hyper-productivity gave rise to the collection of a vibrant excess of smegma at the nose of his glans, and the ‘internal discomfort’ that he had reported for the magic circuits within his groin.

After bathing her filth-smeared frame and sequestering herself away from her master and fellow servants, Nightingale arrived at these conclusions more or less all at once.

Long since capable of producing treatment diagnostics for even the more obscure of illness, how to proceed struck her straight afterward:

If Suizetsu was to function as a master for the organization, the excess mana stored within his semen would need to be siphoned out of his frame on a regular basis. Similarly, the filth build-up caused by his perspiration would need to be dealt with lest it facilitate the coagulation of even more semen within his testicles.

Alone within her examination room, Nightingale considered revealing this information to Ritsuka for a time. In doing so, she could effectively disqualify Suizetsu from service to Chaldea and wash away the shame associated with her ‘examination’ in one fell swoop. Doing so was liable to result in Suizetsu revealing her perversion to Ritsuka, but given a certain amount of explanation and apology, the odds of her actions being swept under the rug were high.

 Apparently in no need of what it offered, Nightingale ultimately rejected this option in favor of another. So as to spare her master from undue concern and discomfort, she instead decided to take on the task of dealing with Suizetsu’s condition without informing anyone about it.

In her mind, it was a matter of pride and confidence. To shame herself unnecessarily when she maintained the medical prowess and… resistance required for her to succeed on her own was pointless. Worse still, doing so threatened to shake her commander’s trust in her–a very undesirable option given the amount of feminine competition that surrounded him.

Unbeknownst to her, the reality of her choice was purely physical. For every second that she sat in thought about Suizetsu’s body, the stink that she had inhaled into her brain and the semen left to slosh within her womb fostered a desire for more within the core of her brain. No matter the shame–no matter its implications for her relationship with Ritsuka–what her body needed was another opportunity to serve as a semen receptacle and filthrag for Suizetsu’s cock.

The price that she paid for her desires–or more accurately, the reward that she received for them–was immediacy. Within days of her delivering her falsified examination results to Ritsuka, Suizetsu was assigned to accompany him in the resolution of a minor irregularity in the past.

The rationale provided for this was effectively the same as the one that had attached Ritsuka to him in the first place: if Suizetsu was to succeed in the long term, observing how a battle-tested master functioned in the field was crucial.

Barely a week after her humiliation, this turn of events forced Nightingale to once again submit herself to Suizetsu’s company. Fearful of what might happen if his body were to go out of control around Ritsuka, she enthusiastically volunteered herself for the mission before any of Ritsuka’s other servants. 

Driven more so by desperation than confidence, the product of her decision was the creation of yet another glaring stain on the record of her service to Ritsuka…

Among other things.

-

INDONESIA–1523

A lifetime of service on the battlefield and within its medical facilities had gifted Nightingale with an innate knowledge of how to function in them. Both during her time as a human and in her present life as a servant, placing herself where she needed to be and collaborating with her fellow soldiers under a capable commander came naturally to her. 

Simply, she did not need to think about them. Provided Ritsuka remained present to provide her with orders and her peers fulfilled the roles that were given to them, the experience ingrained within her body guaranteed success for her.

Flesh choked by the humidity of an Indonesian jungle scape and sight blurred by distraction, proof to the contrary accosted her from several different angles in the present. In the midst of supporting her peers from the backlines, all of the healing and support magics that were required of her were cast a half-step slower than was required of her–

All thanks to the drifting of her gaze towards a pair of swollen, grease-caked testicles flopping between the legs of the wyvern surging several feet ahead of her.

“Tch, Suizetsu-san! I thought I told you to–”

“Nightingale! Move forward and back up Suizetsu for now! We’ll handle the monsters over here!”

Snapped from her stupor by the sound of Ritsuka’s voice, Nightingale snapped inward from her position at the back lines and moved up to one directly behind the wyvern at her left.

Here, the virile stench of semen that had drawn her eyes to his testicles became even sharper. At the same time, though, her focus became sharper, and the quality of her casting climbed back up to its usual benchmark. 

Initially, the heat of combat denied Nightingale time to think about why this occurred. Prioritizing her movement, she dutifully rubber-banded herself to Suizetsu’s position and seamlessly weaved her way through trees and assailants alike until the enemies that surrounded them were destroyed.

After the fact, a feverish flushing of her cheeks led her to apply the freedom that she had earned to a task almost as pressing as survival.

“W-We’ve finished dealing with the enemies over here, Shireikan.” started Nightingale, nervously. “There may be further reinforcements stationed at our left flank. We’ve already disrupted their assault order, s-so Suizetsu-san’s destructive capacity should allow us to make quick work of them.”

“Requesting permission to accompany him as support.”

Understandably divided in the management of his servants, Nightingale’s voice drew only part of Ritsuka’s attention. Rather than process her suggestions all the way through, his trust in her led him to drift in and out of her address before ultimately assenting to it.

In many ways, her speaking out was a godsend. Had she not, it was very likely that he’d have forgotten Suizetsu’s presence entirely.

“Oh…yeah, that sounds good. I doubt there’s anything too dangerous in the area, so you two should be fine by yourselves.” he replied. “Do your best to keep him out of trouble though, alright? We’ll regroup in a little while.”

Given leave, Nightingale produced a timid bow and excused herself.  Dashing off in Suizetsu’s direction, arrival at his back saw her tap a hand against the back of his left leg on her way to moving up to his front.

The moment he turned his bestial skull back behind him, she met his slitted gaze with a flushed scowl.

“O-Over here, we don’t have much time.” Nightingale hissed. “If your combat capacity degrades any further, you could put us in danger. There’s a secluded area a few meters from here, so I’ll attend to you there…”

“I-I will not be tolerating any misdirection from you this time, either.”

Intent on stressing the need for haste, Nightingale pushed ahead of Suizetsu’s frame straight after finishing with her address. Having already trained her eyes on her destination, several seconds of sprinting sufficed to deliver her into a pocket of jungle curiously devoid of excess foliage. Save the surrounding of its periphery with trees and vines and a thin layer of grass atop its loamy soil, the site itself was virtually tailor-made for use as a rest stop for anyone foolish enough to plod through a jungle.

To Nightingale, all that mattered was its distance from Ritsuka. Far enough away to mask both sound and stench, the first steps that she took within the region saw her undo the button sealing her military coat to her neck. Freeing the peak of her cleavage in the same way that the face of her breasts invalidated the coat’s middle, she allowed the majority of sweat-soaked cleavage a wobbling pop into the humid air surrounding her.

Next, she pressed her hands downwards. In order, she unhooked her skirt, peeled her pantyhose from their strained suckle atop the perspiration-greased bloat of her thighs, and finally hooked her thumbs underneath the arms of her panties to wiggle the pointless garment off of the hairy face of her cunt.

If nothing else, her last experience with Suizetsu had taught her that all of these garments were liable to end up ruined if she did not discard them herself. As removing them with magic was liable to stick out as a ‘strange’ use of mana to her master, doing so manually was her only option.

Just as she finished removing her panties, happenstance turned her practicality into a double-edged sword–

Surging into the clearing on all fours, Suizetsu produced a half roar, half chortle that made her regret her attempt at readying herself.

“Otto! Gettin’ naked already? I thought this was a treatment session, Nightingale-chan!” he started, bestial tongue left to bounce at the edge of his snout. “What? D’you wanna make sure my dick ends up in the same shape as my balls? That wouldn’t be very considerate of a nurse, don’tcha think?”

“Or are you just that turned on by cockstink that you don’t care anymore?”

Attacked where she was weakest, Suizetsu’s taunts whirled Nightingale around on her heels before she could brace herself for what she would be looking at.

As a result, her eyes and nostrils fell on the ‘new’ Suizetsu simultaneously. Evidently incapable of controlling individual realizations of the phenomenon he was born with, each instance of transformation that Suizetsu endured was in some way different from the last. Some more humanoid and others more bestial, the only ‘standards’ that they maintained seemed to surround his sentience and the sexual filth that dominated his genitals.

In the present, Suizetsu’s latest transformation had reduced him to a quadrupedal wyvern that lacked the streamlining of the creature Nightingale had treated within her examination room. Though his moss green hide and pale white underbelly were the same as ever, the addition of several feet of height and length for his frame had invited a distinctly lizard-like slope to his torso. Inconsequential past the bestial air that it provided for his frame (this coming as a result of the rugged bulk of the limbs propping up his frame), its presence seemed to suggest that something about his latest ‘mana diffusion’ attempt had taken a turn for the worst.

Further proof of this could be seen at his crotch. Despite retaining his pomegranate-sized testicles, the size and make of his shaft was warped into something far more bestial. Raw green hide replaced by raw, carmine-red flesh, a veritable tree trunk of filth-caked phallus pushed out and away from his cockroot as a fifth appendage. Part way up its length—one riddled with pasted on layers of yellowed smegma and nauseatingly thick blood vessels smothered underneath red flesh—its harrowing girth narrowed to a shovel-like slant that provided the organ with a distinctly tapered appearance.

Regrettably, none of these changes held any bearing on the internal conditions responsible for them. As had been the case with his previous phallus’ foreskin, the topmost inches of Suizetsu’s cock were smothered by a flesh-obscuring heap of semi-solid, off-white smegma left to ferment for weeks on end. Layered such that the meat that it covered appeared bogged down by sludge (i.e., from the shaft’s nose down to a point just below its tip), the sheer amount of it that was set on display forced a pungent ‘steam’ from the pores of his shaft up into the open air above it.

For Nightingale, the presence of this filth and the reproductive stench that it maintained were far more ‘menacing’ than the changed shape of Suizetsu’s body. Accordingly, her seconds spent staring back at him were largely devoted to fixation on the rancid state of his genitals and their steady fattening towards erection.

When the intoxication wrought from her breathing broke her stare, the first thing that she concerned herself was moving. After an unconvincing roll of her eyes, she pushed in towards Suizetsu until her face was set several inches below his snout.

Yet again, a flushing of her sweat-plastered features preceded a firm point down at a space adjacent to them.

“Y-You may taunt me as much as you like. So long as you are near my master, your treatment remains a priority to me.” she replied, huffily. “N-Now, roll over onto your back so that I can begin.  There’s no time for anything thorough, so you’ll have to settle with what I can give you…”

Suizetsu’s having once pushed Nightingale through multiple acts of depravity within the same sitting hollowed her words to his ears. Nevertheless, his familiarity with her nature demanded that he resume playing the part of a ‘patient’ lest he lose out on an opportunity to make proper use of her.

Thus, with thoughts of more blooming within his brain, he bent both his fore and hind legs into the soiled ground beneath him. This done, he threw the weight of his upper body to his right and rolled over into a sprawl that exposed his underbelly and erection alike.

As if having expected this roll in particular, Nightingale stepped in towards him immediately after the fact. Planting her feet between the spread of his hind legs, she then turned her back towards the humidity and stench billowing from his frame and bent her knees into a very slightly squat.

Through these things, she successfully aligned the vertically-set bloat of Suizetsu’s cock with the massive wobbling bloat of her asscheeks. If dwarfed by the rest of her suitor’s bestial frame, the sweat-greased excess of succulent fat at her rear proved a decent match for the towering bloat of his erection. Informed in part by the prolonged stare she had directed at the tower seconds prior, Nightingale fearlessly reached behind her back with her left hand until the moistened face of her palm fell atop the clammy grossness of his erection’s tip.

On contact with it, she froze. If only for a split second, the arousal and revulsion evoked within her by the grime of Suizetsu’s cock stunned her into submission. A gutting contraction rippled through her exposed cuntlips, and a needy throb thumped from her ovaries down to the meat of her womb.

Potent though they may have been, neither sensation came as a surprise to her. Calming herself with a single shaky breath, she shut her eyes in a last-ditch attempt at concentration…

Uselessly, but well enough for her to put her lustful energy to use in something practical.

“Just…”

“J-Just get this over with, Nightingale. There isn’t much time.” she mumbled. “The harder you work now, the more you’ll be able to support Shireikan later.”

“N-None of this means anything in the end anyway…”

After thinking these words to herself, Nightingale firmed her hand’s contact with Suizetsu’s cock into a push. Taking advantage of the settlement of his glans just above the peak of her buttocks’ cleavage, she mushed the grossly filth-caked cocksection between her cheeks with her hand and cocked her buttocks out to see several of the phallus inches below it mushed between her cheeks.

Immediately, the smegma caked onto the organ imposed itself on proceedings. ‘Fluid’ enough to act as lubrication, several chunks of pube-infested slop were smeared across the inner sides of Nightingale’s cheeks throughout his shaft’s depression between them. Disturbed by the combined warmth and sweat of her cheeks’ embrace (to say nothing of the heat exuded by Suizetsu’s shaft), settlement between them began tempting the amounts that remained on his glans towards a slow and steady melt into her crack.

Before this could begin in earnest, Nightingale set about ‘relieving’ Suizetsu’s shaft in her own way. Now hellishly familiar with just how much Suizetsu’s filth affected his length, she immediately curled the depth of her squat back up to a height that very nearly straightened her legs. Pushing her rear outwards all throughout, she then imposed a very slight pressure against the throbbing tower until its glans sat swallowed just beneath the greased peak of her asscheeks.

Next, she descended. Dropping down to her partial squat without any signs of revulsion, she shamelessly squeezed the trapped meat of Suizetsu’s shaft up through to another smearing breach out of the mushy peak of her cheeks. Sparing no time to savor the mounting sensation of mushy cockfilth across her skin, she thereafter initiated a twerking bounce between ascent and descent that applied her asscheeks as a makeshift sleeve for her suitor’s cock.

The purpose that these bounces were to serve became apparent within a handful of repetitions. Thanks to the weight of her asscheeks and the speed of her strokes, the layers of smegma mounted in excess atop Suizetsu’s glans were incrementally squeezed off of its exterior. 

Both ends of her cheeks contributed equally to this. Whilst stroking her rear upwards, the mass of her buttocks’ cleavage choked fresh smears of grime up towards the peak of Nightingale’s asscheeks. As excessive and lurid as a freshly spewed semen, the sheer amount of slop pulled up to this point created visible clogs of yellow-white filth at these regions that maintained the consistency of a lumpy paste. Left untouched throughout the squatting descents that followed, subsequent ascents pushed additional wads of loosened filth up into them until their volume forced greasy streaks into wide, pube-infested tumbles across the face of her cheeks.

In the midst of the downward portion of her squats, similar smears were wadded down towards the midpoint of her cheeks’ embrace. Instead of being mounted upwards into bulbous overflows, filth from his glans became a lubricant for the raw tower inches below it. Like this, every breach of his glans through the peak of her cheeks became the imposition of a greasy hug for the upper 1/3 rd of his shaft.

In spite of the effectiveness of her motions, Nightingale did not unduly concern herself with her execution. More so concerned with speed—this due to the precariousness of their situation—she hastily twerked the fat of her ass along Suizetsu’s cock in hopes of removing ‘just enough’ smegma off of the initial inches of his shaft.

Unbeknownst to her, this pattern of progression was far more pleasurable for Suizetsu than something dutiful might’ve been. Alongside the stimulation attached to the hugging of healthy spheres of dough against the raw bloat of his cockveins, Nightingale’s haste created enough momentum to clap the sweat-drenched undersides of her asscheeks against her upper thighs. As a result, every descent she produced was accompanied by a moist *CLOP!* that made it sound as though her entire body was being skewered along a spire of flesh.

And then there were the visuals. Over time, the compaction of filth at the peak of Nightingale’s cheeks and the substance’s staining descent across their combined face made her bouncing that much more whorish to look at. Eventually, pube-flecked wads wrought from basal layer chunks joined the streaks of grime that preceded them as suffocating bandages of mire that shook alongside Nightingale’s fat. 

Alongside the gleaming perspiration produced by her exertion and the otherwise unblemished nature of her skin, these things made for a sight that Suizetsu couldn’t resist.

Though incapable of reaching out in ‘appreciation’ of her work, speaking out to applaud it remained well within his capacity as a patient.

“Hooou. So what’s this supposed to do, Nightingale-chan? Is turning your ass into a rag for my cock supposed to be a good thing?” Suizetsu grunted, maw slanted downward to cast his voice towards her ears.

“We both know that this isn’t really gonna cut it, so you’re really just staining all of that pretty skin of yours with filth.” he added. “We’re on a mission too, y’know—I don’t think Ritsuka would be happy to see you wasting time like a whore...”

As with all of his addresses, Suizetsu’s words were defined by half-truths. In truth, the friction ground against the unprotected meat of his cock and the filth-smeared weight that Nightingale’s assfat slumped against its nerve endings had already wadded an impressive amount of semen at the root of his cock. Further, for every few strokes she completed with her rear, voluminous splutters of precum were wrung from the exposed nose of his shaft in the wake of vigorous convulsions.

Although nothing had come of these things yet, their existence suggested that Nightingale’s ministrations were at least accomplishing something . By professing otherwise, though, Suizetsu believed that he could extort even more out of her.

And he was right. At the mention of her staining herself, the weight of the smegma sheets matted across her cheeks became much more grating for Nightingale. In response, her squats became deeper, and the thus far languid palms of her hands found the faces of her kneecaps as a form of support.

Within seconds of these changes, her skull whipped backwards to direct a jagged, embarrassment-addled scowl back at the beast back behind her.

“Y-You don’t have a grateful bone in your body, do you? You know nothing of my methods, y-yet you’re decrying them like a selfish animal.” Nightingale started, pouting. “A-All of this is for the sake of your body—the body t-that you refuse to clean yourself!”

“Despite what you may think, I-I am a medical practitioner. F-Filth and exertion, undesirable though they may be, are part of my duties to my master…”

“S-So I will stain my body as much as is necessary.”

Despite their frosty quality, a distinct air of nervousness and lust remained audible in Nightingale’s tone. Ears primed for this and precisely this, its effect on Suizetsu was comparable to what a suppressed squeal from her would’ve produced.

In a display of what little human capacity his bestial form maintained, he swung his right foreleg downward into a possessive bracing of the right side of her torso. Pushing downwards on contact, he abruptly terminated her latest squat and pushed several additional inches of his cock up between her asscheeks.

Erection caught by surprise by the descent of her cheeks embrace, the displacement of copious amounts of smegma at her lower back heralded an orgasm-like splatter of precum from her midback right up to the peak of her neck.

Nightingale felt the weight of these splatters immediately. Shocked into stiffness by the sensation of wadded warmth shooting up across her back (this in spite of the coat fabric that sat atop it, the twinge that this introduced into her uterus stopped her bouncing metronome dead in its tracks.

For several seconds, all she did was think. In the space of a second or so, a palm-width rope of precum was blasted through a staining bisection across her back, and several heavier, less lengthy outflows were drawn out as far as her midback. Based on her last session with Suizetsu, their release could only mean one thing: her job scrubbing her rear across his cock as a rag was done, and stimulation was finally making its way into direct contact with his length.

In spite of this, she lingered. Nudged right up to her goal line with Suizetsu’s help, her first reflex from her new position was a telling wiggle of her hips that rolled the trunk of his cock around through her cheeks embrace. As if in disbelief as to what she had accomplished, a chain of shudders followed shortly afterward.

It was only after these shudders ran their course that she managed to recall that there was a plan that she ought to stick to. Against the yearnings of the holes throbbing between her legs, Nightingale pushed herself through a finally wobbly ascent out of her squat. Following another brief instance of shuddering brought about as additional wads of bulbous smegma were pushed to the peaks of her asscheeks, she turned around in hopes of making it seem as though nothing had happened to her at all.

Her face and posture presented stunning arguments to the contrary. Features painted with streaks of flesh and torso hunched in delirium, the only ‘serious’ aspect of her appearance was the narrow-eyed scowl she was directing at her suitor.

Ironically, Nightingale abandoned what little dignity she still maintained all on her own. Within seconds of one another, she pulled herself out of her hunch and descended down to a position propped up on her knees.

Here, she addressed Suizetsu in a tone of voice far more lust-addled than her last.

“T-That…should be sufficient for me to work properly. As I said….I-I don’t have time for anything thorough.” she started, slowly. “You’re taller than I am on all fours, so…I-I’d ask that you stand up before I finish with my treatment.”

“Surely that i-isn’t too much to ask of you at this point?”

Set in wait for an address along these lines since the midpoint of Nightingale’s twerking display, Suizetsu met her request with an immediate display of participation. Rolling off of his back, he pushed the claws of his hands and legs back into the ground and pushed himself upright several feet ahead of Nightingale’s frame. This done, he physically reiterated the differences between their bodies by striding inwards until her the top of her skull was brought within inches of his underbelly.

By design, these moves left the partly-cleaned nose of his erection directly opposite the middle of Nightingale’s face. Although Nightingale had neglected to specify where he needed to be whilst upright, a hunch backed by the dedicated attention she had devoted to his shaft and testicles a week prior argued that there was no better place for him to be than this.

Nightingale’s feminine instincts agreed. Whilst Nightingale herself was left stupefied by the fact that Suizetsu had guessed her intentions, her instincts and the organs that they influenced rejoiced at the conditions that she was plunged into.

All at once, the musty humidity of the jungle was replaced by an overwhelming blend of heat, sexual stink, and a loose fog of virility stinking. Made all the more severe by her proximity to its source, her rosy features were drawn wide-eyed within the first few seconds of her staring at Suizetsu’s cock.

In this time, she did her best to wrestle control of herself back from the incessant slobbering of her folds with only her thoughts…

Predictably, though, each word that she spoke to herself served only to push her deeper into the quagmire of stink and filth she had slipped into.

“You have to concentrate. You know what the stench of his filth will do to your mind if you don’t.” she thought to herself. “Y-You’ve been in this position once before, so you have no excuse. H-How rancid it is—h-how heavy the air is with his monstrous virility is irrelevant…”

“I-If you cannot function here, you’re no different than a common whore!”

Upon uttering these things to herself, Nightingale was saved from her latest stupor by the same monstrosity responsible for creating it. 

Drawing his clawed hands inwards, Suizetsu left the task of supporting his upper body to his right, and applied his left to an all-consuming push against the back of Nightingale’s skull.

Through it, her lips were pushed into a sordid kiss with a thrice layered glaze of smegma surrounding his urethra whilst her nostrils were pushed into their most concentrated inhalation of his cockstink yet–

A vile wake-up call if ever there was one.

“Nanda? Aren’t we in a hurry, Nightingale-chan? You wanted to get this over with as quickly as possible, didn’t you?” Suizetsu jeered.

“Well, better get started before my balls burst, then!”

Shocked from out of yet another embarrassing stupor, these words turned Nightingale’s lust into an ignition for frustration. Spreading her lips out of their kiss against Suizetsu’s glans, this frustration motivated her to plunge her skull inwards down along his member all on her own.

She did not stop here, either. In defiance of the perverse spread imposed onto her lips by the scale of his cock–to say nothing of the chunks of sour grime that its meat introduced to her mouth–she leaned on her durability as a servant to drive inch after inch of the spire across her tongue and down her throat.

Crimson eyes more focused than ever, her first (and last) stopping point along the two-foot spire appeared halfway down its length. In place of the reeling and gagging that might’ve overcome a human woman at this juncture, Nightingale marked the occasion by raising both of her hands up to the opposing side of Suizetsu’s shaft just below her lips’ stopping point. Threading her fingers in between one another on contact, she then used the stagnant vice that she created to hold the meat of his cock in place through a vehement wrench of her spread lips back up to the slanted tip of his cock.

The costs incurred by her plunge and ascent were severe. Throughout her drive, a significant fraction of the smegma loosened throughout her assjob was mounted against the face of her lips as snow driven by the face of a plow. Well before her descent began in earnest, the sheer amount of filth that was collected this way wadded smegma at the corners of her lips such that jarring smears of the substance were pushed back towards her cheeks (this alongside several telling wires of pubic hair).

A comparable amount of the substance was smeared off directly inside Nightingale’s mouth. As several layers from the nose of his shaft were mushed across its lower inches by her asscheeks, every inch of flesh that she engulfed up to his spire’s 6-inch mark pushed filth-greased cockflesh across the nubile pink of her mouth. 

In the midst of grinding a sour, wriggle-prone flavor across her tastebuds, Nightingale taxed her gullet with conformity at the same time. Once the inches of her oral cavity were expended, both the virginal rigidity of her throat and the congealed quivering of her esophagus were spread around nearly a foot of cockflesh before circumstances granted them a reprieve.

If whorish and disgusting, Nightingale’s following up these experiences with a noisy wrench of her lips back up to the tip of Suizetsu’s cock spoke volumes as to her convictions. Given every excuse to descend into a fit of squirting uselessness, her return to where she had started instead heralded the beginning of an aggressive throating session for over half of Suizetsu’s cock.

*GLUCK-SCHLLRP-GLORK–SCHRRSH–GLUCK–SCLLORP*

Influenced by a mixture of the pressures exerted by her gullet and the vile make of the organ she was skewering into it, ravenous squelching noises were quite literally fucked from Nightingale’s skull for every stroke of her skull that she completed.

The various *GLUCK* noises that she spewed were a product of her vehemence. Undaunted by the vein-armored texture of Suizetsu’s shaft and the nauseating flavors that coated it, Nightingale defied the virginal constriction of her throat by smashing it open with force and momentum. Per drive of her skull, she intentionally ground her skull downwards to see the pulsing trunk’s bloat squeezed through her depths as cleanly as possible. 

Naturally, neither her gullet nor gag reflex were particularly happy with this approach. Whereas the former drew its mucus-glazed interior even tighter in a desperate attempt at slowing its invasion, the latter attempted to invoke her smothered gag reflex into function tight and time again. Before long, these urgings resulted in mixtures of mucus and saliva splattering out across the trunk inches she stabbed into herself. The end result of this was a guttural noise akin to the spread of moistened flesh by an equally moistened battering ram of the same.

To a point, the slurping noises that followed these outflows were a product of these circumstances as well. Because of the tightened state of Nightingale’s esophagus, unplugging cockflesh from her depths at her preferred pace was made slovenly by default. Privy to her throatslop’s value in properly cleaning Suizetsu’s cock, she made a point out of slurping excess amounts of the diluted substance back into her mouth as she rose up along his shaft. Then, upon arrival at the rancid layers mounted at his glans, she intentionally spewed out the payloads that she collected in a single, gluey burst.

Excessive though it may have seemed, a method persisted in the madness of her ministrations. Faced with the draining confines of her mouth, the pace of her motions, and the amount of lubrication that she fucked out of herself, what amounts of filth persisted at Suizetsu’s cock were left with no other choice but to melt and liquefy as any other form of grime. Albeit not to the same extent as a human erection, a full minute of effort from Nightingale slurped every spec of filth and grease below his glans into a murky slop that was thin enough for her to drink by reflex.

These successes were so significant that Nightingale couldn’t have ignored them even if she had wanted to. Through them, the ruination of her mouth with the rank flavors of Suizetsu’s cock and the matting of pubes and smegma across the lower half of her face acquired validation. The steady runoff of murky filth down onto the face of her cleavage became another means to an end, the quivering of her cunt a forgivable byproduct, and the cockdrunk high she snorted through her nostrils a ‘reward’ for her long-suffering.

Simply, success in her aims excused their consequences. Even if her master were to walk in on her efforts, the fact that she had something to show for them convinced her lust-addled mind that everything would turn out for the best.

However erroneous, this mindset carried Nightingale from the beginning of her cleaning session right up to the point where its effectiveness began to wane.

At this, the changed textures of the cockflesh smothering her throat told her exactly how to proceed. Leveraging the momentum from a final nuzzling hilt of her lips against the slop-drenched brace she had wrapped around the midsection of Suizetsu’s cock, she again raised her lips up as far as the swell of his sloped glans.

From this point onward, every descent of her lips was limited to these inches and these inches alone. Applying all of her earlier speed and ferocity to a focused instance of cocksucking, she set her skull into a flurry of bobs and suckles with only further success in mind.

Seconds of these strokes made ‘success’ seem like an understatement for her accomplishments. Eyes crossed into a focused stare at Suizetsu’s shaft throughout, Nightingale spewed all of the slop and salivation welled within her mouth out against his glans each time she bunted it against the back of her throat. Slurping heartily whilst slipping backwards (just as she had before), she needily swirled her tongue in wide, chunk-clearing circles around the cockflesh she had focused on to see her excess lubrication mopped into it.

Assaulted equally by suction and moisture, the sludge at the nose of Suizetsu’s cock was forced to yield. Wad by tongue-staining wad, the reeking gunk that had choked his glans was quite literally slurped off of the head of his erection by Nightingale’s suction. As a result, stretches of cockflesh that were kept out of contact with the warmth and pressure put out by her mouth were exposed to these things in increasing amounts until their owner was forced to take note of them.

In his more humanoid form, doing so would’ve resulted in Suizetsu taking in the sight of a rigorous bob of Nightingale’s lower lips, and a whorish burbling of excess throatslop and mucus from her right nostril. 

In this one, the sensations themselves were all that he had to contend with.

Wrought from this was a double-edged sword of sorts. While spared from the untimely orgasm that these things might’ve imposed, Nightingale’s slurping eventually became just good enough for him to desire more from her.

In his mind, the only avenue through which he might attain ‘more’ went through Nightingale’s cunt.

For the first time in several minutes, these thoughts forced him to begin actively pursuing that which he desired.

In this case, thought beget immediate action. Beginning by dropping his hand down from the back of her skull , he produced a stuttered growl meant to suggest that Nightingale was doing a far better job sucking his cock than she was in reality.

Ears programmed to respond to the sounds of suffering, Nightingale responded to these grunts with all of the urgency of a mother looking in on the distressed squealing of a child.

Then and there, this meant reeling her skull backwards all on her own and denying herself a final stride towards success.

*SCHLRRRRRR—PPAH!*

“N-Nanda? Daijoubu desu ka? A-Are you alright, Suizetsu-san?” lips freshly popped from the peak of a monster’s shaft, Nightingale addressed her suitor in a voice laden by mucus and exhaustion.  “I was almost…a-almost finished with your treatment. If you’re uncomfortable, I can assure you that i-it won’t be for much longer.”

“I’d…well, I-I’d rather you not suffer unduly if I can help it. We’re likely running out of time as it is, so shall I stop for now so that you can recover?”

Instead of waddling out from her position underneath Suizetsu to deliver this suggestion to his face, Nightingale maintained her slop-lathered grasp on his cock and stared up at his underbelly in expectation of a response. When it became apparent that she would not be receiving one—or at least not a timely one—she filled the silence that descended between the two of them by reflexively pressing her lips back down into contact with the filth-lathered nose of his erection.

As could be expected of a woman with her disposition, she did not recognize her doing so until the next time she was required to speak. In this time, she heartily suckled against the nose of his glans, slurped wads of precum across her tongue to the back of her throat, and even managed to scoop additional dregs of smegma off of his shaft with her tongue.

Funnily enough, it was her preoccupation with his shaft that earned her a proper response from its owner. Stamping his way backwards ever so slightly, the ‘bite’ in the stimulation that she provided demanded that Suizetsu separate her from his cock by force.

Once finished with this, he produced a distraction meant to keep her from moving straight back to it.

“Masakaaaaa! No way we need to stop—i-if anything, I think you might finally be getting to the bottom of this!” he grunted, throatily. “I was just thinking, y’know? All the scrubbing you’re doing with your mouth is great and all, but it’s only ended up pushing even more jizz into my nuts this whole.”

“If you keep up like this, we’d end up having to stop without me getting rid of it. I don’t know as much about magic circuits as you, but that’d defeat the whole point of taking the edge off, wouldn’t it?”

Normally, a curt confirmation of his suspicions was all that Suizetsu should have received for his comments. Still very much consumed by the reeking sexual fog that billowed from his crotch, the absence of his cock within her mouth catalyzed a degree of patience and pliancy for Nightingale. After thinking her way through his comments, she nodded her head and once again crossed her eyes into a focused stare at the tip of his writhing erection.

Clearly, it—and not the medical condition of its owner—had consumed far more of her attentions than she was willing to admit.

“You…have a point I suppose.” Nightingale huffed, quietly. “S-Sadly, that may be all we’re able to accomplish.  Shireikan will likely be arriving soon, s-so you’ll just have to endure for now.”

“I’ve seen soldiers work through graver afflictions in complete silence on the battlefield. S-Surely you can at least hold out until we return to Chaldea?”

Chortling in derision, the sternness in Nightingale’s words did not stifle Suizetsu in the slightest. In order, he took a step forward and spoke out into the clearing with all of his usual confidence—

Not to suggest an alternative, but to declare a plan of action.

“Mochiron! If I had to, holding out until then would be no problem!” he chirped. “That’s just it though, Nightingale-chan—”

“I, or well, we don’t have to. We can get everythin’ done right here, and you won’t ever have to worry about your master seeing you with pubes on your face.”

“All you have to do is trust me…”

“And you do trust me, don’t you?”

Where she ought’ve shouted, Nightingale ground her thighs together in silence. The shame that she had suffered; the insults that she had received; virtually all of her thoughts about Suizetsu vehemently denied the presumptions he had made.

However, she couldn’t—

Not whilst the stinking organ that her uterus throbbed for continued to bob and drool right in front of her face.

-

A HALF-HOUR LATER—CLEARING PERIPHERY

While not the most experienced of Chaldea’s masters, the servants that Ritsuka had contracted throughout his tenure and their capacity for individual action granted him a certain amount of efficiency in the more minor missions that were assigned to him. Although personally biased against leaving them to function as tools, the fact remained that his input made very little difference regarding their success or failure—at least where basic combat was concerned.

It was as a result of this that Ritsuka earned himself leave to check the western flank of the battlefield all on his own. After completely securing everything adjacent to it, a brief period of idling led him to recall Nightingale and Suizetsu’s departure nearly an hour prior. Curious, but in no way fearful of the fact that they had yet to return, he slowly plodded his way through the area with the expectation that he’d run into them somewhere.

Several minutes of this failed to yield either of the pair. Instead, his progression’s sum was the appearance of a pocket of clearing within his line of sight, and the infection of the forest’s stagnated air with a raw and eerily familiar aroma.

On his way up to the clearing itself, Ritsuka presumed the smell to be something related to the carcass of a destroyed monster or some natural product of the environment. On arrival at it, clear evidence to the contrary failed to ‘sell’ him on its source one way or another.

Inexplicably, something at his core refused to accept that the grease-lathered wyvern hunched over ahead of him was the cause of the stench that he was breathing in—this in spite of his engaging in what appeared to be a strenuous, downward-angled rutting of his hips.

Circumstance denied Ritsuka the ability to actively think about the source of this denial. More so swept up by the fact that he had found Suizetsu, his attentions naturally shifted towards what the scene he had stumbled upon lacked:

Florence Nightingale.

“Oh, there you are Suizetsu-san. That’s a relief—I was starting to think we might’ve had a real problem on our hands.” Ritsuka started, smiling. “Why’re you hunched over like that, though? Is everything alright?”

In speaking out the way that he did, Ritsuka unwittingly forced Suizetsu’s attentions away from sensations far more pleasant than the sound of another man’s voice.

Foremost among them was the slobbering tightness of Nightingale’s cunt. Bent down to a face-down-ass-up position several minutes prior, the upturning of her rear’s pillow scale fat up towards the drooling bloat of his erection had invited him to compress his hind legs and slam the lust-engorged meat of his cock straight between the syrup-greased pudge of her lower lips. 

Making use of this invitation did not require him to disregard Nightingale’s desires, either. In the first place, her acquiescence was what had made it possible. After carefully suggesting that more thorough relief for his cock could be bought provided the size of his frame was used to their advantage, she tepidly assumed the position that was required of her whilst poutily imploring for him not to ‘take too long’.

A ‘fair’ bestial degenerate at heart, Suizetsu did precisely this. The moment the cleaned slant of his erection tasted the fertile humidity that billowed from her cunt, he allowed his instincts (as opposed to his pride) to take complete control of his thrusting metronome.

Consequentially, a stomach tenting rut of raw cockflesh in and out of the confines of Nightingale’s womb took shape soon afterwards. Heavier and stronger than her human frame could hope to be without the use of magic, the first curled flog that Suizetsu produced with his lower body took the syrup-greased confines of her inner walls for all that they were worth. 

Choked right down to the submissive pudge of her cervix, the lust-fattened button failed to even attempt pushing back against the descending force of his erection. In a single, *GLRSH!* tuned drive, all two feet of the organ were mushed through her lower lips such that the peak of her uterus was tented against the chub padding her abdominals.

Indifferent to the lustful squeals that Nightingale produced as she was skewered, the success of this hilt bled into a feral reproduction of the thrust responsible for it. Content to wrench a paltry 5 inches of his shaft’s meat back up through the congestion of her folds per stroke (a stretch of inches perfect for punching the peak of his erection back and forth through the mouth of her cervix), he charged his abdominals and hind legs with pulverizing the filth-smattered fat of her buttocks as a pair of pillows. 

For Nightingale, this approach amounted to a tantalizing excuse for her to shut her brain off and squirt. Per hilt her monstrous suitor produced, the thudding delivery of cockflesh through her folds caused a mixture of heat and strain to bloom at her midsection. Inner walls still very much shellshocked from their gutting a week prior, a handful of these strokes sufficed for turning the mild splutter of lubrication fucked from her folds into the eruption of pressurized arcs of syrup out across the soil beneath her rear. Further, as her womb had already endured the misfortunate of tasting Suizetsu’s noxious semen, the prospect of insemination reduced the fertile pocket to a hungry clamor against its shape in a shameless attempt at sucking it dry.

Unsurprisingly, these things denied her the ability to concern herself with concepts like ‘noise’ or ‘time’. Once the primary proponent of a quick and easy relief session for Suizetsu, a few thudding impressions of her face against the ground reduced her preference to Suizetsu’s accommodation.

That was until Ritsuka’s voice began sounding out through the clearing, at least.  In the same way that it pulled her suitor’s attentions onto the present, its clarity made the muffled quality of her fucking painfully salient to her. The sustained *PLORPS* and *PLAPPS!* of leathery crotch flesh against her rear became deafening, and the measured huffing that she had produced a scream in dire need of suppression.

Interestingly, though, neither of these changes resulted in her attempting to escape. Though her fluttering heart rate spiked into a worrisome throb, her panic amounted to little more than a descent into silence and stillness.

Really, this was just as well—

Even if she had wanted to, slipping out from underneath Suizetsu at this juncture would spell the end for what little dignity she had left.

“O-Osu, Ritsuka-kun! G’heh, don’t worry about me—I just ended up picking a, y’know…a little injury during my last fight.” Suizetsu started, snout slanted up towards to Ritsuka. “I’m just tryin’ to get it dealt with, y’know? Don’t want to slow the group down or anythin’ like that, haha…”

Inexplicably, Ritsuka accepted these words at face value. In order, he crossed his arms at his chest and turned his nose up at Suizetsu at his very first opportunity.

“Haha, I guess you reap what you sow, huh? Maybe next time you’ll take my word for it when I suggest that you do something.” he replied, chuckling. 

“But wait–Nightingale was supposed to be with you, wasn’t she? Why didn’t she just heal you right away?” he asked, calmly. “Where is she anyway? I told her to stick close to you just in case something like this ended up happening…”

“Her mana feels like it's close by, but I don’t see her anywhere. Did you see where she ended up going, Suizetsu-san?”

Although perfectly capable of maintaining the slanted drives of his crotch and speaking out in tandem, Ritsuka’s questions touched on subjects that Suizetsu could not safely speak on. Given a moment’s notice, sidestepping the subject and bringing up another was his only option. Regrettably, the amount of time that he required to recognize this brought their discourse to an abrupt (and complete) halt.

Throughout this dead zone, the only sounds to be heard were the sodden impacts of his crotch against the succulent, sex-greased fat of Nightingale’s ass. For three agonizingly long seconds, raucous *PLATCH* noises sounded out through the sex-choked airspace between them without anything to challenge them.

Moments away from a disaster befitting their source, subversion for them was fashioned from the reverberation of a third voice within the clearing.

This one, though, sat muffled by several hundred pounds of reeking wyvern flesh.

“K-Kochi desu! I-I’m…”

“I-I’m right here, Shireikan. I-I apologize fo–ooough ♥ —r  my s-silence. I-I’ve just bee–hhhii ♥ n p-preoccupied with treating Suizetsu-san’s injuries.” words segmented by labored breathing and curtailed groans, Nightingale broke her silence in hopes of steering her master away from the truth of her situation.

In doing so, she simultaneously provided him with yet more irrefutable proof of it.

“A-As you–OOOUGH(H!--p-predicted, Suizetsu-san w-was very overzealous in t-taking down the last of our enemi—iiguuuu ♥ s.” she continued. “T-The…the magic circuits and sinews of some of his muscles and–”

*PLORTCH-SQUELCH-PLATTCH-SQLECHH*

“I-Uuuuu ♥ nternal organs h-have been damaged.” she explained, weakly. “I’m going t–oouu~ n-need some time to r-repair them, b-but don’t worry,”

“E-Everything will be fine ♥ . I-I shall never leave one o-of your comrades to suffer on th’ battlefieeeeeld…”

“This’h I-I swear in th’ name o-of Florence Nightingale ♥ .”

Contained within these words was everything that Ritsuka required for an outburst. When not addled by squeals or groans, Nightingale’s diction outed her as being under the influence of something much more debilitating than the exertion of healing. Stranger still, every untimely pause taken in her address was filled in by noises comparable to the clapping of flesh against flesh.

These things ‘hit’ Ritsua in the same way that they would’ve hit anyone else. Sexually experienced in his own right, mental images depicting the flopping of Nightingale’s breasts and the wobbling of her ass against a rugged crotch briefly flashed across his mind eye's.

And yet, he rejected them. Unwilling to accept the emotional obliteration attached to accepting these thoughts as the truth, he broke the silence induced by Nightingale’s words with a derisive chuckle and a nervous grind of his palm against the back of his head.

Incidentally, the sloppy clapping noises that reverberated from Suizetsu’s crotch only grew louder as he did so.

“....S-Souka. I guess it can’t be helped then.” he chuckled, weakly. “I’m glad that I can count on you, Nightingale. I’m sure Suizetsu-san has already apologized to you, but I’m sorry as well. Had I sent someone else with you, this probably wouldn’t have happened, haha…”

“A-Anyway, take as much time as you need. The others have already started to set up camp, so we’ll be able to get some rest before moving on to our next objective.” he continued.

“I guess…”

“I guess I’ll head back for now. Don’t go and give Nightingale any more trouble, alright Suizetsu?”

Yet again, Suizetsu missed his first cue to respond to Ritsuka’s words. 

At it, his mind sat enamored by the convulsion of Nightingale’s cunt and the satisfaction associated with digging the raw flesh of his cock through her folds. Unlike his latest attempt at gutting her, the throating she had applied to the top half of his shaft left it exposed to the scalding heat and squirt-clogged congestion her folds had to offer. His domination of her innards remained more or less the same, but grinding the vein systems mapped to his cocktrunk back and through the core of her canal wracked his mind with far more stimulation throughout. 

The repeated slotting of his glans through her cervix was enhanced similarly. Without any filth to ‘blunt’ the quality of her depths, the juicing pressure her cervix exerted across his cock became potent enough for him to contemplate release on a thrust-by-thrust basis. 

The trampolining of his cock against the buoyant pudge of her uterus was the same if not worse. As prone to inward collapse and wriggling as her vaginal canal, individual hilts made him feel as though his shaft was being strenuously squeezed into a condom of congested flesh. Then, before he could even begin to savor the sensation, the swelling of her abdominals with uterus-wrapped cockflesh pushed his lower body to reverse his ingress in favor of another thrust.

Were it not for Ritsuka’s presence ahead of him, Suizetsu would not have bothered attempting to tear his focus away from these things.

All the same, submitting to the requirements of his position was not entirely unpleasant for him. By drawing his snout upwards one final time and casting his seething gaze up at Ritsuka, his eyes fell on the nervous smile and departing wave that he produced as he retreated.

All at once, these sights made the seconds of distraction that he endured eerily worthwhile.

“Y-You got it, Ritsuka-kun! G’heh heh, catch you in a bit!”

Left with no other choice but to assume that all was well within the clearing, Ritsuka took Suizetsu’s address as his cue to depart in earnest. He did not look back as he did so, and the increasingly heated and slovenly noises that reverberated out from behind him went ignored until his distance from the area deafened him to them.

If avoidant and cowardly, his doing so was for the best–

Just as soon as he slipped out of earshot to the clearing, the event that he had walked away from began barrelling towards an undeniably foul conclusion.

-

FOLLOWING RITSUKA’S DEPARTURE–CLEARING

While unwilling to admit as much to herself, the sound of Ritsuka’s departing footsteps were music to Nightingale’s ears.

Had he attempted to draw her into a more in-depth conversation, the consistency of her fucking would have reduced her to a mixture of unintelligible squeals and groans. Even if this did not end up being the case, the preceding few minutes of her rutting had rendered loyalty and shame as insufficient motivators for action within her mind.

In their place, stimulation reigned supreme. Within steps of Ritsuka’s disappearance from the clearing, the innumerable additives attached to Suizetsu’s thrusts forced another compressed explosion of cuntsyrup through her folds. In particular, the wrecking-ball-like beating laid in against the reddened pudge of her lower lips and the balmy discharges of blubbered precum against the peak of her uterus combined to create the ‘push’ required for her to slip into yet another orgasm.

Throughout it, Ritsuka’s absence mandated her first unobstructed squeal in several minutes.

“I-Iguuuuu ♥♥ ! I-I’m c-cummin’ I-I’m cummin’ from getting a monster’s cockflesh scrubbed inside my womb~!” she squealed, tone hoarse and fluttery.

“P-Pleash c-cum soon. Shireikan w-will be worried if w-we take to long! I-I do’t want to have to present myshelf to him a-as a cocksleeve!”

Despite containing fractions of the concerns that Nightingale harbored regarding her actions, the delivery of her utterances left much to be desired in the way of impact. To an untrained ear–or perhaps an ear belonging to a man in the midst of shaping the meat of her cunt into a dutiful sleeve for his cock–their contents were unlikely to amount to more than a call for further abuse.

Fortunately, ‘further abuse’ was the only thing that her suitor was still capable of. Made to teeter on the verge of orgasm for minutes on end, Ritsuka’s departure prompted an acceleration of Suizetsu’s thrusting metronome well before he left for good.

If anything, Nightingale’s latest fit of squirting merely provided validation for it–

No matter the implications of his doing so, leaving the womb of a squealing whore unseeded was simply not in his nature as a monstrosity.

“Guuuhh!! Nightingale-chan yarashi!  T-That desperate to get clogged with more cockjuice, huh!” he grunted, throatily. “Guess I’ll just let you have it then! Who knows? Maybe this load’ll outdo the last one!”

So did these words leave Suizetsu’s lips did his thrusts become a series of piston-speed hammer blows into Nightingale’s cunt. In the blink of an eye, the consistent length and depth of his strokes was thrown out in favor of a wild, impact-focused frenzy against her innards designed to subject them to as much mind-rending bliss as possible.

Ordinarily, this transition should have replaced the speed of his motions with depth. Here, the unbridled lust contained within Suizetsu’s bestial frame granted these motions the best of both worlds. After shortening his strokes to a pummel that encompassed only a fraction of his cock, the musculature of his legs and groin worked in concert to beat the majority of his cock through her folds embrace on a second by second basis.

In this, weight was the largest contributor to Suizetsu’s stimulation. After peeling his glans just far enough backwards to deny Nightingale’s uterus a complete envelopment of his cock–a relatively short retraction given the scale of his cock–he thoughtlessly flogged the scaled mass of his lower body downward and inward to replant himself right down to the root of his shaft. 

Between the re-envelopment of his glans, the swinging impact of his sac against helpless cuntlips, and the defensive scrubbing put out by Nightingale’s vaginal canal as rugged cockflesh was plunged through it, these thrusts denied Suizetsu very little in the way of stimulation. Per hilt, the engorgement of his urethra and the vein systems near the peak of his shaft were choked by the tightness of NIghtingale’s uterus as a second mouth. In the midst of these, a far less cutting iteration of the same suckling was applied by the spread depths of her vaginal canal, and individual impacts of his testicles were ‘rewarded’ with modest splatters of lubrication from out of her depths.

Whereas Suizetsu could have found satisfaction in these things alone, his methods gifted him with the opportunity to gorge himself on more. 

From the blinding consistency of his blows arose a satisfying string of *PLAPP* noises timed to every hilt that he produced. Each a testament to the disparity between his frame and Nightingale’s and the ridiculous scale of her rear, their sodden obscenity allowed him to mentally visualize the rippling of her filth-greased cheeks underneath his weight and her cunt’s clinging to the exterior of his cock.

Initially unchallenged as the most sordid noise source within the clearing, Suizetsu’s prolonged execution of these thrusts eventually saw the clapping of flesh against sodden flesh drowned out of his ears by two separate rivals.

The first was the throbbing of his length. Thus far treated to an effective assjob and a vigorous attempt at throating by NIghtingale, every thrust he pushed his erection through drove the reservoir at its root closer and closer to outright eruption. Left with no other choice but to somehow offset the pressure his reproductive sludge had created, his shaft responded to this sensation by swelling the blood vessels that lined it into rigid, grub-thick serpents that throbbed in time with the growth of his load.

The second was Nightingale’s squealing. ‘Expected’ in the sense that their last session with one another had driven her to the brink of insanity, the sounds that she spewed were intensified away from her ‘norm’ so as to match the strain of her position. Try as he might to measure himself in the face of their production, his desire for an orgasm was intensified for every waking moment that her squeals hit his ears.

Together, these noises fashioned a buzzing symphony for auditory satisfaction that closed Suizetsu’s mind to the world around it only a few short minutes. Impervious to physical strain and orgasmic desire alike, his fixation on it carried him through the peak of his rut right through to the doorstep of his release.

From his perspective, nothing of value was lost in this–

In and of itself, the cacophony was just as good as the meat of Nightingale’s folds.

*PLATT-PLATT-PLATT-PLATT-PLATT-PLA—*

*GLORSHHH!*

In the end, the ‘enhanced’ portion of Suizetsu thrusting metronome began and ended within a handful of minutes. Worn past his breaking point without his even recognizing as much, one of the countless thrusts that he smashed through Nightingale’s mound ended with a hydraulic ascent of semen through his urethra and an innard-drowning explosion of the substance straight out against the peak of Nightingale’s uterus. 

Yellowed, rancid, and yet somehow still fluid seeming, the steaming discharge of chunk-infused slop claimed ownership of over half of her uterus’ natural volume before its volume was completely expended—a disgusting and impressive feat even for Suizetsu’s bestial frame. From its contents was birthed a basin layer that served as the first (and last) point of contact for each lengthy ejection that followed. However, as each one carried just as much if not more volume as the last, the caking of the substance across Nightingale’s uterine lining swiftly transitioned into an organ swelling inundation of the sac’s pliant interior.

Stupefied or no, disregarding the significance of these things—much less given her position as the sludge receptacle that Suizetsu was filling—was not an option for Nightingale. All at once, her sweaty facial features (these ranging from the saliva edging the corner of her lips and the mucus dribbling from her nose) were contorted into a tooth-grit grimace befitting the squirming heat that was being deposited inside of her. In time with this, her gaze was drawn cross-eyed, and the rattled confines of her psyche were smothered by noise in much the same manner that her suitor’s had been.

For seconds on end, the sounds produced as her uterus was inundated with a greasy payload became her everything.

*GLORP…GLORP…GLORP*

Per gulping noise that rumbled from her midsection, the texture and weight of the reproductive mire that was plugged into her became that much more ‘real’. Prior to Suizetsu’s release, memories of her last stuffing with jizz were all that she had—memories pertaining to a weighted, lumpy batter whose heat and lively infestation with tadpoles had caused her to squirt shamefully all across the floor. 

Somehow, the sensations that were assaulting her in the present outdid those of her memories several times over. They carried the same heavy, resin-like weight and the same congestion with bulbous wads of ruined nutrients, but the force with which semen was regurgitated into her womb and the sheer amount of volume that the individual discharges carried was enough to disturb the very core of her being.

To a point, ‘disturbances’ almost failed to do these events justice. As a result of them, Nightingale’s mind–a crater of lust long since reduced to a mindless fixation on orgasms and squealing–was forced to return to the subject of her domination.

Not as a servant or medical practitioner, but as a fertile woman yet to be bred.

“Mata okasareru ♥ –I-I’m being violated by a monster’s stinking cockjuice again ♥ . My womb’s getting bloated with it–s-so much that I can feel it swelling my stomach.” she mewled to herself. “I-It’s deeper than Shireikan’s cockjuice has ever been–there’s so much more of it, too. The seed of monsters is always more copious, b-but it truly feels what is being dumped into me has a purpose…”

“Suizetsu-san…his seed wants to inseminate me. He wants to make sure that my eggs can’t be used for anything else but birthing his children!”

“If this persists, I’ll become a failure of a servant. I’ll become a bred meat toilet that can’t support Shireikan at all…”

“It feels good, though~! Feeling such obese, brutish sperm cells wriggle fatten me is wonderful ♥ .”

Much like everything that had come before it, the submissive and almost euphoric tone maintained by these utterances was owed to Suizetsu’s cock. Even after compiling spluttered discharges of semen into her womb to the extent that a loaf-shaped paunch of jizz-swollen gutmeat formed at her midsection, Suizetsu continued pouring semen into her womb from the same position he had started in.

Soon enough, consequences were birthed from this. Although Nightingale’s womb was more than willing to bend the limits of its capacity, the rate of his release eventually saw a number of nasty, splatter backdrafts forced through her choked lower lips in the form of pressurized waves. Alongside the ever-growing heat and weight at her middle, the sensation of these spurts added an especially potent punch to the euphoria that had consumed her mind.

Additional strain was not all that she earned. Before long, the sensation of his seed blasting out against the scaled root of his crotch prompted Suizetsu to retreat. Caught at the back of his orgasm with barely any seed to rid himself of, his bestial instincts chose this as the best means of ensuring that as much of his seed as possible remained in her womb.

By virtue of Nightingale’s euphoria, the slippage of studded cockflesh back through the needy grasp of her cunt and the unobstructed eruption of excess semen and smegma out around, and ultimately behind Suizetsu’s length were not felt by her as strongly as they should’ve been. The same proved true for the *PLORP~!* of swollen glans flesh from the mouth of her cunt, and the subsequent geyser of discolored sludge that followed in its wake.

In the end, the only aspect of these things that she felt was her impact against the ground. Throughout it, the compression of her seed-packed midsection against the soil beneath her pushed a final overflow of cockjuice from the mouth of her cratered folds. Happily ignorant to the presentation of inundation this created between her sex-frayed cuntlips, she was instead allowed to focus on the rumble of a final jolt of sensation through her lower body–

A closing reward for her willingness to trade her dignity as a servant for the ‘health’ of a patient in need…

-

JUNGLE BASE CAMP– 1 HOUR LATER

The hour that followed Ritsuka’s successfully ‘checking in’ on Nightingale and Suizetsu was for him the longest hour of his young adult life. Though he denied his mind prolonged recollection of the event itself and his senses any sort of dwelling on its qualities, its significance continued to bear down on it well after his reconvening with the rest of his servants.

Initially, he sought out distractions from it. Still a day’s travel away from the site of the irregularity that he was to correct, he occupied himself by working with his other servants to establish a makeshift camp at the edge of their latest battlefield. 

Whereas approaching this on his own may’ve offered several hours worth of preoccupation, the superhuman and magical abilities that his servants maintained returned his mind to wandering within minutes.  No less dutiful as a result, he made his next attempt at emptying his mind his last. Acting as a dutiful master ought, he delved into records from Chaldea that detailed the conflict that they would be entering into and burned the identities of its key combatants into his brain. A descent into the construction of countermeasures followed soon afterwards, and after this a second review of the capacities of the servants he had brought alongside him and how they might be applied to the task at hand.

In short, no stone went unturned in his search for time sinks. Jumping from one to the next throughout a veritable eternity, he did everything that he could to dissuade his mind from a more thorough dissection of the events he had witnessed minutes prior.

An hour or so of effort granted him a stride. In it, his attempts at forcing preoccupation became a genuine preoccupation, and the world around him became a non-descript blur of humidity and fire-lit jungle scape.

But it was not to last. Just as quickly as he slipped into this trance, the approach of a familiar thudding noise pulled his eyes from his documentation and set them to his left.

A few seconds later, Nightingale and Suizetsu appeared from the direction of the clearing he had found them within.

Only Suizetsu’s appearance was comparable to the one that he had departed with. As if unaware of this fact, Nightingale entered the camp ahead of her hulking peer with her forearms stacked behind her back in militaristic fashion. Like this, the half-buttoned state of her military coat and the inexplicably slop-caked face of her exposed cleavage flesh were pushed even further out into the open air. 

Eyes fixated on the yellowed sludge that appeared matted to their flesh, the ‘inexplicable’ nature of the substance and the presence of what appeared to be wires of pubic hair within it held Ritsuka’s gaze here for a time. When at last he realized that he was staring directly at Nightingale’s exposed breastflesh, he reflexively pushed his gaze upwards in an attempt at subterfuge.

His reward for this was subjection to the sight of Nightingale’s profile as smeared with wide sheets of the same sludge at her breasts. Like a child prone to eating messily, wide patches of yellow-white slop could be seen plastered to her cheeks whilst several telltale arcs of pubic hair sat glued to her lips. Features otherwise flushed, sweaty, and yet forward-facing all the same, all signs pointed towards Nightingale being one of ignorant or indifferent to the messes on her face.

An optimist by necessity, Ritsuka’s mind was perfectly happy to overlook these things as something that he couldn’t hope to understand. The jungles of the past were fraught with all sorts of strange plants and monstrosities capable of creating unsightly messes; nightingale coming into contact with several of these things at once was not out of the realm of possibility. Even if it were, the ‘alternative’ explanations for her state were no less outlandish in comparison.

These things demanded that he sweep the sight of her under the same rug as the events of the clearing. Before he could do so, however, Nightingale’s arrival in front of him and the settlement of his line of sight just below her waist caused his heart to skip a beat.

There, flesh-caking streaks of a bulbous sludge could be seen seeping through the fabric of her pantyhose in amounts far too copious to be ignored.

“M-Mo…”

“Modorimashita, Shireikan. I apologize–Suizetsu-san’s treatment required a little bit more time than I thought it would.” Nightingale began, nervously. “I-I may’ve expended a little too much mana as well. I don’t want to put any strain on your body, so I will be retiring for now.”

“I-If you need me, don’t hesitate to call for me as you usually do, o-ok?”

Although spoken in a semblance of her usual tone, Ritsuka’s ears failed to process her utterances for what they were.

Throughout them, his attention sat elsewhere–

On her lips, her eyes, and the distinctly sexual aroma that teemed from the feminine bloat of her frame.

Chapter Text

For all of the obscenity and betrayal that it wrought, Chaldea’s incessant babying of its newest recruit ultimately served the purpose that was intended for it. Within two months of ‘work-study’ alongside Ritsuka and his servants, Suizetsu acquired a familiarity with the magic circuits within his body sufficient for stabilizing individual manifestations of the phenomenon that plagued them. 

In simple terms: he became ‘accustomed’ to them. Without sacrificing any of his sentience or any of the brute strength inherent to evil wyverns, invoking and dispelling his transformations became second nature to him. The former typically required that given amounts of mana be expelled from his body in one manner or another, but for the most part, the usage of his wyvern form became a switch that he could flick on and off at will. 

Better still, the shape of his transformations (i.e., how feral or humanoid he appeared after a transformation) became a matter of exertion for him. Whereas minimal concentration reaped the quadrupedal frame he was most accustomed to, regulated diffusions of mana throughout his frame (a process that Suizetsu himself controlled) reaped the bipedal form originally examined by Florence Nightingale. 

More interested in ease than functionality (a position afforded to him by Nightingale’s treatment sessions), Suizetsu chose the former as his ‘default’ form. In doing so, each transformation he invoked provided him with vital practice in wielding and maintaining the quality of this form both inside and outside of live combat.

As one might have imagined, these things reaped displays of effectiveness and natural talent that not even Chaldea’s administrators could ignore. Fed a never-ending stream of falsified reports from Nightingale herself, the higher-ups of the organization eventually decided to ‘fast-track’ his induction into the final few stages that separated him from employment as a fully-fledged master.

Per the nature of the organization, these stages concerned the summoning and development of servants. Mana volume and ‘talent’ aside, few within the organization felt comfortable providing him with the resources and command spells required for control over heroic spirits and their adjacents. The Evil Dragon Phenomenon posed too much of a risk to the organization’s integrity, and Suizetsu’s nature presented the possibility of the power that he attained going straight to his head.

To Ritsuka’s chagrin, these conclusions once again reduced him to a means to an end. In preparation for a point in time where Suizetsu could be ‘cleared’ to function on his own–a point in time whose arrival depended on his behavior–those at the helm of the organization opted to turn the two of them into a ‘duo’ of sorts. 

Having joined them at the hip for the foreseeable future, the two of them were afforded a complementary set of comforts and freedoms. Being the more experienced and well-rounded of the pair, Ritsuka (and his servants by proxy) was placed in charge of managing mission progressions and combat strategies. As a counterbalance, Suizetsu was afforded complete autonomy in live combat and the ability to position and informally command Ritsuka’s servants as supports.

From a managerial perspective, this divide was all but guaranteed to reap the results they desired. Through it, Suizetsu would acquire additional experience interacting with servants, and Ritsuka additional opportunities to round out his already obscene skillset.

From the perspective of its constituents, however, the decision handed down to them was a ‘mixed bag’. While unwilling to digest the events the things he had witnessed when last he and Suizetsu were paired with one another, the idea of working with him on a regular basis irked Ritsuka in a way that he couldn’t quite put his finger on. At the same time, being placed in a position that might allow him to moderate his behavior for the better struck him as an opportunity. The sooner he conveyed how a master ought to behave to Suizetsu, the sooner he’d be free of him for good–ideally speaking.

Being himself, Suizetsu’s views were far more self-serving. Despite his strides within the realm of mana regulation, his sole takeaway from his initial months as a master candidate concerned servants.

In a word, he found himself addicted to them. After tainting Nightingale with his essence and reducing her to complete dependence on his seed and cockfilth, Suizetsu was bewitched by the prospect of more. Although Nightingale’s ‘treatment’ of his body continued behind closed doors, the seemingly endless stream of voluptuous and ridiculously fertile female servants that surrounded Ritsuka pulled his thoughts away from what he had, and closer to what he was missing out on.

In particular, the passage of time saw the majority of his attentions swallowed up by Lancer Artoria. Foremost amongst the servants that clung to Ritsuka the closest (and rightly so given her station and combat capacity), the blonde’s righteous dedication to the man that had summoned her filled Suizetsu with jealousy each and every time he laid eyes on the two of them together. 

To make matters worse, none of the glances that he took at her were returned. On all of the occasions wherein Artoria accompanied Ritsuka throughout Chaldea’s facilities, she refused to so much as acknowledge his existence. Even when circumstances demanded that she do so, she kept their exchanges to the bare minimum and generally regarded him as a Ruler might a subject.

So deeply did these things grate on Suizetsu that his long-term pairing with Ritsuka was framed by his mind as a blessing in disguise. Emboldened by the ‘ease’ with which he bent Nightingale into a dedicated cocksleeve, he committed himself to somehow making it so that Artoria ended up the same way.

This undertaking quickly proved far less ‘straightforward’ as his last. 

To Artoria, the partnership imposed between her master and Suizetsu changed nothing. If perfectly willing to fight and converse with Suizetsu per Ritsuka’s commands, consistent exposure to him did not affect her in the same way that it had Nightingale. No matter how closely he clung; no matter how actively he allowed his stench to permeate her airspace; Artoria’s doting attachment to Ritsuka remained consistent day in and day out.

Never one to take defeat lying down, two weeks of these circumstances forced him to inject a degree of creativity into his approach. In search of more information about the woman that he was chasing, Suizetsu used one of several periods of downtime handed down to him to investigate Artoria’s identity within Chaldea’s underground library.

In them, he found a ray of hope in what had otherwise been a bleak and fruitless campaign. 

Supposedly, the source of Artoria’s pedigree as a servant (and her power whilst alive as a ruler) stemmed from her parentage as ‘child’ to the concept of the Red Dragon of Britain. Ignorant, and in truth largely indifferent to the implications surrounding this fact, Suizetsu regarded this information as his bestial nature bade him to:

Given that Artoria maintained the blood of a dragon, his existence as a product of the Evil Wyvern Phenomenon was likely one that she was sensitive to–if not overtly, then at the very least biologically. Having seen the reproductive stench of his framework wonders on a heroic spirit with no such bestial connections, he reasoned that somehow tapping into whatever breeding instincts her body housed would allow him to change her opinion of him from the inside out.

If short-sighted and ill-informed, prioritizing this idea provided Suizetsu with something to work towards. To reduce Artoria into his cocksleeve, he needed to tap into her biology. To tap into her biology, he somehow needed to expose her to his virility in a manner that circumvented the indifference that she displayed towards him. Accomplishing such a thing within Chaldea (where Artoria clung to Ritsuka the tightest) was unlikely, so if anywhere, the irregularity sites that they were dispatched to were likely his best chances at success.

Arrival at this conclusion demanded that he endure. Without turning to Nightingale for more satiation than was necessary, Suizetsu directed all of his lusts–all of his attentions, focus, and cunning–to crafting a scenario that might bring him success. It in mind, he played along as Ritsuka’s partner and assisted him in the clearance of several irregularities over the course of a single month.

Much to his disappointment, the only thing that he earned for these efforts was a telling engorgement of his wyvern form’s testicles with semen and an increasingly cloying desire to rid himself of it. Progressively fattened from pomegranates into a pair of mushy, sloshing beachballs that regularly hampered his movement, circumstances for him appeared set on a consistent path of degradation.

Nonetheless, he persisted. Inexplicably committed to attaining what he desired, he flung all of himself at his problem in hopes that some part of him might stick onto a solution.

For him, failure was not an option…

Not whilst Artoria’s reproductive rights hung in the balance.

-

ROME—265 BC

Contrary to what his reptilian appearance suggested, neither oppressive heat nor frigid cold were environmental factors that Suizetsu had to concern himself with. Whether by virtue of his dragon-adjacent lineage or the sheer amount of mana that coursed through his body on a regular basis, the environment that surrounded him in the wake of a given transformation had no bearing on his physical comfort.

Mentally speaking, of course.

Whilst his senses were insulated from anything that might disturb them, Suizetsu’s body constantly adapted to the circumstances that surrounded it. When the bulk of his hide was tightened by cold, the excess heat created by the congestion of his magic circuits was allowed to seep into his muscle fibers as a form of insulation. Conversely, oppressive heat pushed his innards to mitigate the excess warmth that they generated so as to keep themselves in peak condition. For this, they leveraged perspiration, the loosening of Suizetsu’s hide, and even the production of steam and humidity in order to accomplish their tasks.

Although these things typically reduced Suizetsu to a walking mass of reeking moisture, the stabilization of his transformations guaranteed them a degree of success. Not including the occasional addling of his frame by the reeking ‘mana’ churned up by his testicles, combat situations normally found him prepared to wield any number of destructive forces at a moment’s notice.

For better or worse, the same proved true for moments where he was completely idle. Most recently, his deployment alongside Ritsuka to an especially arid pocket of the hills that surrounded the Roman Empire had rendered him a simmering monstrosity of stench and moisture primed for combat with irregularities and heroes alike.

Tragically, circumstance demanded that the readiness of his frame be squandered for sentry duty. In recognition of Rome’s historical significance and the ludicrous concentration of magical weapons and beings behind its walls at any given time, Ritsuka advocated for a ‘better safe than sorry’ approach in the resolution of the irregularity that they were charged with. In his words, this necessitated a thorough outlining of their surroundings, and the concealment of their presences until the exact moment that they needed to reveal themselves.

Bound to adhere to his decisions as the ‘brain’ of their duo, Suizetsu initially swallowed what was required of him in complete silence. Soon, though, the blooming of a multi-sided conversation between Ritsuka’s and his chirping female servants filled him with a frustration that threatened to disrupt the group if released.

Thusly, he removed himself. Taking up sentry duty with the autonomy granted to him by his position, he sequestered himself to an outcropping of dry orange stone and allowed his frame to bake in the sunlight whilst his mind seethed in anger.

Before long, his seclusion eventually threaded discontentment out of his mouth as well.

“…Kusso. This is getting pretty fucking bad, huh? It’s been weeks, but I feel like I haven’t made any progress with Artoria at all.” he mumbled to himself. “s’not really my fault; these missions are just so boring that I never get the shot I need. Honestly, I spend more time listening to Ritsuka’s other servants fawn over him than I do fighting anything.”

“Haaah. Maybe I really did bite off more than I could chew here. It’s not like I was missing out on anything with just Nightingale-chan, so maybe I should just—”

“Perhaps you should what, Suizetsu-san? I don’t believe Nightingale-dono has accompanied us on this mission?”

“Is this a matter that needs to be discussed with Master?”

A common bellyacher in all but appearance, Suizetsu’s fixation on his lamentations siphoned detail from his surroundings until their sights and sounds became a blur to him. Left ignorant as to the goings-on within them for seconds on end, the appearance of an individual at the edge of his line of sight and the sounds made by their ingress towards him were disregarded by his psyche until they could no longer be ignored

At this, Suizetsu found that Artoria herself had appeared only a few feet off to his left. Features frigid and posture inquisitive, the sight of her suggested that the contents of his murmurings had aroused suspicion within her– a suspicion that she intended to relieve herself of one way or another.

Exposure to her in this state should have set Suizetsu on high alert. Without knowledge as to what exactly she had heard and the conclusions she had drawn from it, carefully worming his way out of the situation he had stumbled into should have been his foremost priority.

However, it wasn’t–or rather, it couldn’t be. 

Artoria’s presence demanded his attentions be set elsewhere. Bathed in unobstructed sunlight and yet somehow devoid of muddling from perspiration or dishevelment, Artoria’s figure and appearance once again reduced Suizetsu to the thoughtless gawking of a lecher.

Fairly, most any other male placed in his position was likely to have succumbed to this fate. In possession of an appetizingly feminine stature propped higher by heels from her combat armor, stunning, bun-wrapped blonde hair made all the more lustrous by sunlight, and a fair, sun-kissed complexion contrasted sharply against the emerald coloration of her eyes, Artoria’s outward appearance was an oasis amidst the dry stone and dusty foliage of the hills.

Like all of Ritsuka’s max-bonded servants, her fundamental features were supplemented by mouthwatering applications of ‘feminine excess’ all about her frame. At her peak strength, the platinum armor that concealed her frame was removed in favor of the flexibility and ‘practicality’ of a navy-blue tunic crossed between a neck-affixed leotard and gold-edged bodysuit, removable arcs of light armor for her hips and crotch, and minalistic chausses set atop stockings that maintained the same coloration as her tunic.

Were it not for the wobbling, flesh-riddled bloat of the feminine assets squeezed into these garments, the question of their functionality would have fallen on deaf ears. 

In reality, her bust alone rendered this subject extremely salient. In place of the modest D-cup breasts she had developed throughout her tenure as a ruler were heaping, gumdrop-rounded set K-Cups whose scale dwarfed her skull several times over. Fleshy and natural to the touch, yet held to a youthful and figure accentuating height that curtained the beginnings of her upper abdominals, the dough-bloated teardrops combined to render her upper body as a jiggling eyesore no matter how she clothed it. In this case, the cleavage window built into her bodysuit was stretched to more than twice its intended width and ‘engorged’ with fat from the inner sides of both of her mounds. Further, the palm-like width of the nipples and their mushy, knob-esque succulence tented the blue fabric that covered them such one could discern their shape and texture without the need for Artoria to strip nude.

Although in no way unfamiliar with oversized breasts, the difference in scale between Artoria’s breasts and Nightingale’s never failed to draw prolonged stares from Suizetsu. 

Comparatively, though, his intentions for Artoria biased his ogling of her to her lower body in practice. Today more so than usual, the light that was cast on her bodysuit midsection and the pudgy abdominals that they covered filled his mind with thoughts of blowing load after stinking load of semen directly into Artoria’s womb.

Like Nightingale, the musculature required for some of her physical feats was padded by a volume of fat that made the studs of her abdominals seem rounded to the eye squishy to the touch.  As her leotard was sized with her original figure in mind, this rendered its bottom half skin tight, and its crotch section just slightly too narrow for the fertile bow of her hips. 

The ‘sum’ of these things was accentuation. Whereas pockets of mons flesh were left exposed to either side of Artoria’s crotch, the pudge softened around the obtuse arcs of her hip curvature were made to seem slightly puffier.

Countless minutes spent taking in Artoria’s body made every second that Suizetsu spent staring at her middle tantamount to a circular assessment of her frame. Through them, his mind generated mouth-watering depictions of her bare thighs, the fabric bit globes of buttocks flesh affixed to her rear, and even the faded blonde pubic hair that submerged her crotch–a paltry imitation of the sights themselves, but one that sufficed for keeping him out of trouble.

In this case, though, his usual attempts at moderation were not enough. Without Ritsuka presence to distract her, Artoria was free to direct her full focus at the target of her suspicions.

Through it, she recognized his ogling and the eventual descent of his gaze for what they were:

Her assessment as a piece of meat.

“Slaking your lusts on a woman’s appearance does not become you, Suizetsu-san.” speaking out after a hateful tightening of her features, Artoria made her awareness known with an injection of venomous discontentment into her tone. “I believe I asked you a question as well. It is not my place to demand an answer from you, but as you are partnered with Master, I am bound the bring this information to his attention lest his safety be jeopardized by it.”

“Such action would not be unnecessary if you could suppress your depravity long enough to answer me, but at this point, I somehow doubt you could accomplish this.”

Incorrigible though he may have been, Suizetsu was far from braindead. When the sound of Artoria’s voice caught his ears for a second time, the gravity of his situation hit him as a ton of bricks.

Artoria was not Nightingale. On top of maintaining her ‘guard’ in his presence at all times, his frame granted him no advantages in their interactions. If he did not talk his way out of this circumstance–and well–his plans for her were liable to fall apart before he could begin working on them in earnest.

Thus, he wracked his mind. Turning seconds into hours, he invested every sinew of his being into creating an out before his plight consumed him. 

These moments proved fruitless for him. Caught off-guard, viable ideas escaped him, and conscious thought proved beyond him. No matter how he tried to put his brain to work, his efforts continued to yield blank after blank.

Beset by desperation, he reflexively averted his bestial gaze from Artoria in search of composure. This by itself was enough to out him as a liar, yet making this connection proved beyond him as well.

At the brink of disaster, happenstance offered him salvation. 

Posted in the distance at the exact locale he cast his gaze towards was a Giant Demon Boar–one of several upper-tier monsters that infested the environs of certain irregularity sites. Nostrils flared and hooves grit into the ground, its posture spoke to his bestial instincts on a fundamental level.

It was going to charge–not towards him, but directly towards Artoria’s back. 

Her pedigree as a servant rendered a direct impact almost meaningless; truthfully, even 100 of the charging creatures were unlikely to have any luck in felling her.

However, this was irrelevant. Noting what was likely to be his first and only opportunity to do something about his position, Suizetu prioritized action over thought.

Surging forward, he flung his weight at Nightingale and begged what remained of his good fortune for success.

“Oi, watch out, Artoria-chan!”

“It’s this or nothing! I either get what I want, or I’m fucked!”

“Let’s see just how potent this body of mine really is!”

At the same moment that he uttered these things to himself, Suizetsu mowed Artoria’s body weight down to the ground beneath him from the front. Careful to avoid anything that might be construed as a genuine attack, only his underbelly was involved in this. Whilst his musculature propelled him forward, he lowered his center of gravity so that Artoria’s face would collide with the scaled flesh underneath his neck.

The stopping point for his drive left the disgusting, grease-drenched excess of both of his testicles mushed atop Artoria’s face. Specifically, after flattening her body against the ground, Suizetsu intentionally stopped himself at a position that left her face directly underneath his crotch. Once more or less certain that she had ended up here, he flung his fore legs upwards to drive his lower body (and underbelly) closer towards the ground.

Outwardly, every move he made appeared purposeful. By elevating his upper body, Suizetsu acquired the time and positioning required to torque his clawed left arm for a destructive swipe across the boar’s face. Limbs charged with lethal amounts of mana, the motion tore through the creature's existence and eradicated it with only a garbled squeal as proof of contact. As a result, Artoria was spared from undue harm, and a potential threat to their campsite was eradicated before it could attempt a ramapage

From Artoria’s perspective, these things were utterly unnecessary. Caught out by his sudden drive, the reeking grease of his underbelly was dragged upwards across her face and breasts faster than she could avoid it. Forced to the ground right as she began processing what was happening to her, she soon found the conjoined beachballs of a sloshing ballsac flattened into her face such that the sinus violating aroma that they maintained and the vigorous writhing of the sperm cells within them were impressed onto her face. 

Neither these things–nor the smearing of sweat, pubes, and sexual grime to her features–were necessary. In the first place, repelling attacks from assailants was what she specialized in. Whilst at her Master’s side, no harm could come to him, and no enemy could stand against them; a lone beast was no more than fodder for her lance.

In spite of this, Suizetsu had subjected her to humiliation via protection and filth. When first his testicles appeared above her face, the humidity that they projected choked her airspace with a heavily concentred version of the stink that hung over his wyvern form at all times. When the entirety of his drooping sac was pancaked against her face–an ordeal that plugged her nostrils with loose flesh and prickled her face with pubes–she foolishly presumed that her position could get no worse.

Yet it did. By virtue of the torque produced through Suizetsu’s claw swipe, his crotch swirled his engorged testicles across her face and forced her sense of smell into even closer contact with the reeking dragon seed that they contained. In spite of her revulsion, the breaths of air–or musk–that she breathed in whilst in this position rolled her eyes up to the peak of her skull and assaulted her innards with convulsions she had yet to feel at any point prior.

These convulsions bottomed out into a helpless spread of her legs, and a seizure-like thrust of her hips that coincided with a noisy burst of compressed cunt-slime out against the crotch of her leotard. 

Short yet sustained, its outflow heralded change within her. Seemingly out of nowhere, Artoria’s frame was made to recall both the blood that it carried and the gender that it was born with. The standard that she held herself to prevented these revelations from destroying her mind (a boon given her position), but nevertheless, ‘damage’ was done to her psyche in areas that were not designed to be healed.

The primary consequence of this damage was sluggishness. Although strong enough and conscious enough to push her way out from underneath Suizetsu’s frame, Artoria lingered underneath his balls for far longer than was necessary. Never one to pass up on an opportunity that was plated for him, her refusal dared Suizetsu to ‘accidentally’ swirl and dip the underside of his nuts in and out of contact with her face over the course of several painstaking seconds.

Only after Suizetsu expended every possible second that he could devote to this position (reasonably speaking) did he abandon it for the sake of Artoria’s comfort. Pushing his hind legs into extension, he peeled the loose flesh of his ballsac off of her face before trundling forward to drag the weight of his nuts across her features one final time.

Then, as if ignorant to all he had done, he turned around to address Artoria whilst grinning from jaw to jaw.

“Hyu~! That was a close one; if I hadn’t moved forward in time, who knows what would’ve happened!” Suizetsu chirped. “Sorry about tackling ya, Artoria-chan–I figured you’d be safer under me, and there was no other way t’protect you, y’know? I know you can handle yourself and all, but Ritsuka-kun would’ve been pretty pissed at me if I let some basic monster like that get the jump on you.”

“You doing alright down there, though? I didn’t hit you that hard did, I?”

Met with this address, Artoria chose silence for a time. The sight of her furrowed profile confirmed her consciousness, but at a glance, internal matters far more important than conversation had commandeered most of her focus.

This ‘something’ was her stability of thought. At last granted access to clear oxygen, righting the lust-touched state of her mind and slowing her fluttering heart rate took precedence over everything else for her.

Being herself, only a handful of seconds were required for her to attain a passable semblance of these things. With them, she opened her eyes to the world around them and pushed her way through a wobbly ascent up to her feet.

Situated directly behind Suizetsu after the fact, her lingering delirium prompted her to address his rear as though it were his face.

“I-I’m…Im fine, I think–y-you need not…concern yourself with my wellbeing.” she huffed, dominant hand-drawn to a weary spread across her face. “I-I can’t say I appreciate your methods, b-but I sensed the monster you destroyed far too late to have done anything about it.”

“I think I became a little too wrapped up in the conversation we were having. Speaking of which…”

“W-What was it we were discussing? I can’t seem to recall it correctly...”

Fighting against his instincts to sneer and chortle in relief, Suizetsu shrugged his shoulders and leaned even further into the faux concern he had displayed.

“Oh, nothin’ important. You were asking if I needed some relief from sentry duty, I think. I’m pretty much fine, so you can head back and tell Ritsuka-kun that I’ll be ready to go when he is!”

“Thanks again for comin’ to check on me, Artoria-chan! It really means a lot!”

Too disarmed to do anything other than accept Suizetsu’s words at face value, Artoria nodded gingerly at his explanation before taking the leave that had been suggested for her.

Inexplicably, her doing so overwrote the calm she had attained with a disquieting flutter for her heart.

Its quality was one of longing. Not for something far off and unattainable, but for something that she had only recently turned her back on…

Something so close that she could almost taste it.

-

3 DAYS LATER

Aside from the dedication and affection fostered throughout her time as a servant, Artoria’s summoning by Ritsuka Fujimura had a number of minor effects on her behavior. Some came in the form of doting habits and others in girlish deficiencies that she had managed to avoid during her tenure as a ruler, but for the most part, their majority surrounded a single general theme: her master and his convictions.

Of them, she indulged herself in daydreaming the most by far. Having learned to derive a wealth of positive affect from the conversations that she shared with Ritsuka on a daily basis, any time that she was forced to spend away from him (whether in the form of menial mission tasks or errands throughout Chaldea) presented an opportunity for her to ‘entertain’ herself with memories of their latest conversation with one another.

Upon return from resolving the irregularity in Rome, the first proper conversation that they enjoyed came within Ritsuka’s quarters a day or so after the mission itself. Left with a cloying sense of discomfort in spite of their success, Artoria sought comfort in her master’s presence and eventually raised the subject of her discomfort without divulging the sweaty, brain-rotting specifics that pertained to it.

Seated beside Ritsuka atop the left side of his mattress, the words that he spoke to her on this subject were amongst the most heartfelt that she could recall him coming from him.

Consequentially, their contents stuck with her.

“Ah, so that’s what’s bothering you. You can’t figure out how to get along with Suizetsu-san, huh?”

“Well, that’s not the end of the world. He’s a difficult guy to like, much less interact with. I don’t think there’d be a problem if you kept treating him as you have been so far, but I guess you’re not the type to want to do something so ‘inefficient’ right?”

“Haha, yeah, I figured. In that case…hmm…let’s see…”

“Oh, I know. We should have at least a week to relax before we get dragged into another mission, right?”

“Why not take the time to get to know him—as in going to talk to him I mean?”

“Hm? You think that wouldn’t be safe? How so?”

“Ah, that. Yeah, he does joke a lot around women. Nightingale had the same problem during our first few missions together.”

“Don’t worry, though—if you strictly do things during the day, I’ll be nearby just in case anything happens. No matter what you think about him, even he isn’t crazy enough to cause trouble in Chaldea.”

“Just give it a try and let me know how it goes, ok?”

With or without her master’s admonition, Artoria’s instincts had recommended paying Suizetsu a visit regardless. In truth, what she sought from her master was one of an alternative, or a reason to do anything other than what her mind—and innards—were telling her to do.

Being denied such an alternative forced her to entertain the idea that hashing out her discomfort with the man responsible for it was the most viable option at her disposal. In accordance with this, she departed from Ritsuka’s side the following morning to initiate what she hoped would be a short and sweet resolution of her concerns at Suizetsu’s quarters.

on arrival, she was welcomed inside as a guest. Still within his wyvern form (a privilege afforded to him by the size of his quarters), the confines of the room that she stepped into maintained the same jarring stench and humidity that she had snorted into her skull days prior.

Not to be discouraged, Artoria kept her focus on the task at hand. Whilst her cunt began to leak and her uterus began to squirm, she stated her concerns and demanded that Suizetsu present a solution for what ailed her.

What followed was a blur whose contents seemed to ripple and sway with the sauna-like humidity of Suizetsu’s bedroom. Rendered inexplicably malleable by words that her mind barely processed, Artoria watched from afar as her frame transitioned from the removal of her lower body armor to an ingress towards Suizetsu.

A moment after this, the neck-seal of her bodysuit was undone, and the sweat-dewed excess of her breasts were drawn out into noisy flops against her upper body. After this, movement from Suizetsu’s frame drew her further inwards, and the concentration of musk and heat that surrounded her became too strong for her to deny.

This juncture was where Artoria began to daydream. Utterly enraptured by the ‘comforts’ that had invaded her frame, her mind saw fit to sweeten her experience with memories of what Ritsuka had told her.

Impressively, her preoccupation did not affect her performance in the slightest. After waiting for Suizetsu to roll off of his legs and onto his back, she mounted the greased warmth of his underbelly as though it were a steed from her kingdom. Atop it, she spread her thighs to the opposing sides of his groin and turned her front to face the stinking tower of unwashed, pent, and grossly vascular cockflesh that extended up from his crotch.

In that moment, she regarded this as the ‘correct’ thing to do. Through her eyes, the two-foot tower’s ruinous girth, the mounting of mushy layers of smegma atop its tip and the engorgement of its foreskin with the same, and the billowing stream of steaming lubrication from out of its filth-caked piss-slit constituted tasks that she had to complete. The bulging, wriggle-prone vascularity of its trunk spoke to the severity of her tasks’ importance, and the pulses that quivered through her cunt to the calm that she might obtain by attending to them.

So she did. Taking advantage of the nigh-perfect positioning she had created by propping herself up onto her knees, Artoria fed the desires that had bloomed inside her whilst applying herself to the task she had been given at the same time. 

Plating her palms in against the outer sides of her breasts, she curled her fingers into their meat until flanks of fat rose up between them. This done, she peeled the mounds’ impossible excess just far enough away from one another to open up a phallus-sized gap directly between them.

Next, she dipped her torso forward and sealed it. Mushing the pliant bloat of her tits’ inner sides in against the opposing sides of Suizetsu’s mast at a position that began directly beneath his glans, she hastily consumed several inches of the flesh-scalding trunk into an embrace constituted by deliciously sweaty meat.

Incidentally, her doing so left her mouth only inches above the rancid tip of his glans. Eyes crossed into a dedicated stare at the filth-engorged sock for seconds on end, the sights that she took in somehow informed her as to what needed to be done, and how best to do it. 

Whilst tightening the compression of her palms into the outer sides of her breasts, she dunked her skull downwards. Parting her lips to a modest width throughout, contact between her face and Suizetsu’s cocktip plugged the gap that she had created with the absolute peak of his glans and nothing more.

By default, this dive mushed her nostrils and upper lip into a vile excess of smegma. Smeared, and in some cases caked with the pube-riddled substance, the same reproductive ‘shock’ that she had endured upon entering Suizetsu’s bedroom was reproduced within her with far more intensity.

As if this were not enough a price to pay, a similar form of shock was created within her mouth. Taken aback by the rancid masculinity that assaulted her tastebuds, her feminine innards were subjected to a contraction that pushed a wave of heated cuntsyrup out against the crotch of her leotard. 

However, she refused to be stopped. With it as her backing, she parted her lips ever-so-slightly further and pushed the modest length of her tongue into an ill-advised descent into the noisome treasure-trove of cockfilth wadded above, and directly underneath Suizetsu’s foreskin.

With this, her attempt at attending to the disgusting excess of Suizetsu’s shaft began in earnest. Whilst effectively suffocating herself on the flavor of denatured semen and sweat, Artoria actively fished her tongue around the top half of Suizetsu’s foreskin in a vain attempt at diluting its contents with her spittle. At the same time, she curled her wrists inwards to push her palms’ compression of her breasts into a stifling hug. Once set such that pressure was pushed in against both the front face and underside of its girth, she subsequently turned her attention to rolling her wrists upwards and downwards to grind her embrace along a fraction of his trunk’s excess.

Both of these actions contained proof of the breeding lust that had invaded her core. While perfectly capable of driving inches of Suizetsu’s shaft across her tongue and down her throat, Artoria intentionally limited herself to slobber-backed tongue-swirls solely for her suitor’s benefit.

Her uterus mandated this. Of the opinion that Suizetsu’s shaft would need to be sufficiently scrubbed for it to deposit a potent load into her depths, cleaning it was made out as a ‘responsibility’ that Artoria had to fulfill before his orgasm.

The product of her framing things this way was efficiency. Whilst working her palms up to a pumping metronome that she did not need to track, she stroked the face of her tongue back and forth across the covered face of Suizetsu’s glans as though the flank of flesh constituted an automated windshield wiper. Within a handful of these left-right flutters, the sheer amount of untouched filth that her tongue was brought into contact with pushed all of the tastebuds within her mouth into near-constant salivation. Using the murky runoff that dribbled out from underneath her lips as a lubricant, the flicks of Artoria’s tongue became an abbreviated ‘stirring’ of rancid filth with a clear, perfectly fluid goo.

Several seconds spent spreading it provided her with enough confidence to enact that suggestion that had been passed down to her in earnest. Snapping out of what appeared to be a comfortable stagnation, Artoria reeled the filth-glazed length of her tongue back into her mouth and narrowed the spread of her lips to a ‘kiss’ that was just as wide as the exposed glans flesh surrounding Suizetsu’s urethra.

Then, she descended. Taking advantage of the top-sided loosening she had created for Suizetsu’s foreskin, she squeezed her lips across a slow plow from the peak of his slanted glans right down to its base. In the process, she snowballed wads of smegma up against the pube-flecked gloss of her lips until their narrow compression forced his foreskin to descend along with them. Indifferent to the fresh layers of reeking filth she exposed in the process, she did not halt her progression until the throbbing shovelhead's tip was driven down to a worrisome impression against the back of her throat.

Here, the sensations attached to her position got the better of her. Having only functioned up until this point by virtue of the sheer amount of unrequited lust her feminine organs maintained, a sufficient influx of sexual satisfaction (namely the throbbing of his glans against her throat and the repeated infection of her sinuses with cockstink) caused her convictions to waver for the very first time.

Wrought from this was a disturbance that tore her from her daydreams about Ritsuka and plunged her into reality. 

As the one who had suggested that Artoria attend to his cock so as to clear up the ‘discomfort’ that it had caused her, Suizetsu stood to lose precious seconds of service if her stagnation continued. With no way to tell how deeply his musk had affected her brain or how much work remained to completely consume her by it, he deemed her motionless stupor as an opportunity to take control over his use of Artoria for good.

Donning a sneer widened by pleasure, he addressed her as a concerned parent might a child.

“Oya? Finished so soon, Artoria-chan? You’ve barely even gotten started, though!” he began, jovially. “You remember what I said, don’t you? Th’ only way to make yourself feel normal again is to attend to all of the desires you’ve neglected up to this point,”

“Right now, that means doing your absolute best to drag a load out of my cock. I really don’t mind helpin’ you with stuff like this—what with you being Ritsuka-kun’s servant and all,”

“That said, even I have my limits. Offering you my time only for you to stop halfway through would be kinda rude of you, wouldn’t it?”

“You’re not the kind of disrespectful dickrag that’d give up halfway through, are you?”

Cut from the veil of her stupor straight down to the prideful woman at her core, these words challenged Artoria to turn the reflexive performance her body had produced into something all her own.

There was no other choice for her in the matter; for her own sake and for Suizetsu’s, her time with his erection could not be allowed to go to waste…

So decreed the longing within her uterus, and the cloying desire for release bottled up at the root of her mind.

In accordance with these things, Artoria steeled herself. Without regard for the innumerable messes smeared across her tongue and the filth that dominated the entire lower half of her face, she reinitiated the bobbing of her mouth and simplified the motions of her wrists for the express purpose of creating pleasure for Suizetsu.

At the onset of these things, she discarded her delirium as well. Calling upon a semblance of her pride as a ruler that was infected by her lusts, she embraced the task ahead of her in the only way that she knew how:

As a means to an end that her master required of her.

“I-It was you…”

“Y-You were the one who instigated this, Artoria. It is your duty as a servant–nay, your master’s servant–t-to make use of what Suizetsu has provided to you and right the wrongs that have infested your mind!”

“I must…”

“Somehow, I-I must make him spew his reeking seed into my stomach ♥ !”

By the time she finished uttering these things, the changes that Artoria injected into her metronome sat moments away from solidity. In defiance of her revulsion and incapacity, a firm downward skewer of her face plunged several inches of Suizetsu’s erection straight down her throat. Opting to halt her drive three inches below his glans (a height meant to facilitate the continuation of her titjob), she allowed these inches of writhing cockmeat to sit within the nubile embrace of her throat for a moment before reeling her lips upwards to drag them back across her tongue. Sliding back as far as his glans’ halfway point, she subsequently invested herself into punching and wrenching these same inches of meat back and forth through her gullet with the deranged hunger of an animal.

To facilitate the speed and aggression of these drives, the pumping of her breasts became a complimentary shuffle of their grimy pressure against the most bloated and oblong inches of Suizetsu’s cocktrunk. Swapping out her pressurized stroke for an ascending massage of their swell in against the spire’s veins bulk. 

Beginning with the exact same palm positions that she had started with (i.e., impressed into the dead center of their outer sides), she pushed their mass inward and upwards along Suizetsu’s mast along paths shaped like crescent moons. Owning neither the strength nor freedom to drive their mast more than an inch or so upwards, the completion of a given ascent bled into descent just as quickly. Nevertheless, the simplicity of the motions allowed for her to sharpen her pace up to practicality in hardly any time at all.

Needless to say, the pleasure that Suizetsu derived from these things was multi-faceted. As a wealth of smegma persisted underneath his foreskin prior to the beginning of Artoria’s blowjob, both its beginnings and the limited throating that it became resulted in streaks of chewable gunk being plastered across the confines of Artoria’s mouth. The more intensive her bobbing became, the more of the raw flesh of his erection was treated to the warmth and moisture of Artoria’s digestive tract.

As her throating progressed, this exposure became increasingly vital over time. Owing to the repeated invasion of her throat and her tastebuds' refusal to acclimate to the rancid squid flavor of the muck drawn across them, a gluey mixture of saliva and throatslop were wrung out from underneath her lips whether she sat in the midst of goring her throat or dragging her mouth backwards.

On top of serving as yet another dilutant for the layers of grime underneath his foreskin (one that was quite literally scrubbed into his meat by Artoria’s throat), excess runoff of the substance drizzled far enough across his cocktrunk to make contact with the inches that Artoria had wrapped her tits around. Within seconds, this amounted to a consistent lathering of balmy slime across the grease layers that gilded his trunk’s blood vessels–a stimulating appetizer for the pleasure that was to come, and in many ways, a firm display of Artoria’s capacity for cocksucking.

And then, there was the noise. From the beginning of their acceleration right up to the point where her motions acquired consistency, a whorish (and all too familiar) collection of *GLUCK~!* and *SLRSH!* noises began sounding out from Suizetsu’s crotch on a regular basis.

To him, these noises sounded like progress. By attacking Artoria where she was weakest and appealing to the foremost aspects of her personality, he had successfully reduced her to one of several debased stations he had imagined for her when first he caught sight of her stoic figure clinging to Ritsuka’s side. After weeks spent wondering whether or not such progress was even achievable, the reality of it filled him with a satisfaction that almost put the quality of Artoria’s throat to shame.

This was not to say that it cooled his desire for Artoria’s cunt, course.

If anything, it did the exact opposite. Whilst beset by stimulation from two separate sources, this satisfaction asked a question of Suizetsu whose contents reminded him of the engorgement of his testicles with over two weeks' worth of reeking semen:

“If this is what her throat and tits can do, shouldn’t her cunt be even better?”

So did these words begin reverberating through his skull did his lips spew out several others mandated by the sloshing grime within his testicles.

Presuming one cared to read into them (or maintained the capacity to, for that matter), their sum blotted out what little pretense his position maintained with the unbridled lust of a degenerate.

Long since without the integrity as a viceless paragon, Artoria missed this reveal in its entirety…

But not for the reasons that one might have imagined.

“Khhh-haaaa! T-That really hit’s the fuckin’ spot, Artoria-chan! I-I went and saved up way too much jizz, so get ready for my first load!” Suizetsu grunted, words accented by a sneer spread across his maw.

“F-Fuck, D-DERU!! Here it is! Don’t try to swallow it all; you’ll just end up puking out half of it!” he continued. “L-Let some of it cake your face. You’re gonna have to get used to it covering your entire body, so you may as well start now!”

Somehow, Artoria heard Suizetsu loudly and clearly. Her mind glossed over the implications that his words contained, but their imperatives reaped immediate responses from both her muscles and internal organs.

All of this was owed to Suizetsu’s cock. In the lead-up to his outburst, the already destructive rigidity of his shaft took on additional thickness, and the volumes of precum that blurted out of the nose of his length in response to her efforts grew thicker.

While personally ignorant as to the meaning behind these changes, Artoria’s draconic biology understood them all too well. In response, her feverish bobbing at the nose of his shaft enjoyed a brief period of acceleration whilst the grinding of her tits was supplanted by a firm, unyielding compression into his mast’s girth.

These things robbed Artoria of what little capacity for thought she still maintained. Without it, following through with what Suizetsu asked of her became more vital than understanding why he had asked these things of her in the first place.

Within seconds, positive reinforcement for her ignorance was doled out in the form of his release. In the wake of several monumental convulsions through his length and what felt like a hydraulic compression of sludge up through his urethra, Artoria at last received a portion of what her insides had desired.

Out of nowhere, a hooked thrust from Suizetsu’s hips slotted a third of his cock down her throat just in time for the beginnings of his load to blast out in her esophagus.

In time with this, a deafening flare of noise within her skull replaced all of her thoughts with a caustic, hissing bliss.

“HNNNN ♥♥♥ !!!”

*GLRUUUSSHHh~!*

Toned in mimicry of a sustained flush of sewage through a narrow tube, the noises made as Suizetsu’s length regurgitated semen into Artoria’s esophagus offered insight as to its make and volume.

The gurgling in this noise spoke to its texture. Made borderline fetid by weeks spent sloshing within Suizetsu’s testicles, curd-like chunks of chewable protein combined with a looser, resin-like sludge to form the bulk of what was spewed through his urethra. More comparable to a molten clay or a slurry of porridge and melted cheese, its ascension and expulsion required a great deal of churning from the tubes concerned–hence the gurgling that accompanied them.

Predictably, the amount of time that the noise was maintained for spoke to the sheer amount of seed that was pushed through Suizetsu’s length. Over the course of 3 full seconds, a rope of semen that matched the distance between a toe and kneecap was painstakingly squeezed through Artoria’s esophagus. When at last the outflow of this rope came to an end, the expulsion of another gave way to a seemingly endless outflow of these noises from Artoria’s skull.

Despite the information that was conveyed to her, Artoria’s first instinct when subjected to the substance was to swallow. She did not know how she was supposed to push such sludge into her stomach, or why she even wished to. All she understood was that she had to.

Like all of her sexual undertakings before it, this proved easier said than done. Though Suizetsu’s thrust had cleared his glans far enough through her esophagus for her to focus on swallowing, the first segment of nut that cleared the length of his urethra sufficed to utterly inundate the esophagus inches leading into her stomach. Specifically, yet-spread inches of the tube were ‘filled in’ by seed as resin into a mold before the sheer amount of volume concerned forced her esophagus to spread around them.

Peristalsis was her gullet’s first response to this. However, when it became apparent that a single instance of squeezing contraction sufficed to clear only a fraction of its contents into her stomach, Artoria was forced to begin gulping nut into her stomach all on her own. Grinding contractions from the back of her throat right down to the end of her digestive tract, she abandoned both comfort and decency in an attempt at noisily chugging a load into her stomach.

Her best effort at focusing throughout this ordeal failed to completely corral her thoughts. Attacked by a mixed bag of novelty and physical strain, everything to do with Suizetsu’s release became a matter of life or death for her.

More accurately, they became this way for her reproductive organs. Although aware of the fact that no semen had been dumped inside her womb, the reality of dragon sperm entering her body remained noteworthy for them in particular–

So much so, in fact, that her mind was made to regard the event as monumental.

“Goodness, h-how utterly rancid! Can a substance so heavy and lively truly be considered male essence?” she stammered to herself. “I-It’s hot enough that my insides feel warmer just from drinking it, y-yet it’s too thick for me to for me to swallow clearly…”

“Ritsuka’s…Master’s seed is nothing like this. M-My head does not spin when I smell it; i-it does not squirm so actively inside my stomach, a-and it never clings to my esophagus like this.”

“I suppose…”

“I suppose the seed of those with dragon blood is simply different by default…”

As one might’ve gathered from her musings, what began as a seemingly effective solution for Artoria’s problems very quickly became a lost cause. Much to her chagrin, Suizetsu’s prediction had been correct; after 30 seconds of pushing bulbous dollops of semen into her stomach, neither the clogging lengths of his nut strands nor their nauseating thickness had ebbed off.

So far as she could tell, they were only getting worse–worrisomely so. Made to recall Suizetsu’s admonitions each time additional injections of slop were dumped into her stomach, her frame eventually presented her with a choice: adhere to the suggestions laid out for her, or regurgitate semen all over herself before the end of Suizetsu’s orgasm.

Artoria chose the latter. Spared the consequences that would have accompanied a full-length hilt of cockflesh down her throat, she yanked her skewered lips up and off of the tip of her suitor’s shaft whilst fresh discharges of cockjuice were blasted through her esophagus. Then, before another full surge could begin splattering out of his urethra, she popped her lips off of their spread around his glans and inched just far enough backwards to make her profile a target.

In doing so, Artoria made her face into a second receptacle for the ludicrous ‘remnants’ of Suizetsu’s orgasms.

Relative to fattening her stomach with his seed, success at this came very easily to her. After a single instance of recoiling wrought from the draping of a loaf-length rope of discolored semen from the peak fringes of her skull down to her face, both the heat and weight of Suizetsu’s semen lost most of their ‘shock value’ for her. Although still very much off-put by the grub-like writhing of the sperm cells that it contained (or at least what she imagined), its impact rendered every discharge that followed as ‘tolerable’ in comparison…

For a time, at least.

As neither the scale nor congestion of the jizz strands that burst from Suizetsu’s shaft ebbed off (a symptom of his weeks of abstinence), their created a pancake-width wad of feature-obscuring slop across her face in the space of seconds.

Its base consisted of haphazard reproductions of the strand that had first laid claim to her face. One after another, significant chunks of her blonde locks were smothered underneath the thumb-width strands whilst rind infused threads were laid out in jagged lines across her face. Soon enough, a more or less consistent pattern for their ejection took shape, and a half dozen spurts of glut were layered atop one another in sequence.

Afterwards, the blotch itself was fed thickness. When at last Suizetsu’s orgasm began to ebb, the ‘clearance’ that his discharges got across her face and the amount of volume they maintained resulted in dead on blasts of seed at her face (as opposed to climbing strands), as a result, palm-width streaks of the streaming grime were spewed to life atop one another in sequence until a phenomenon akin to localized splatters of semi-solid against brick obscured the entire left half of her face with cum.

The creation of this coverage in conjunction with the wriggling of the semen within her stomach proved to be yet another combination of stimuli Artoria couldn’t endure. By the time Suizetsu’s orgasm came to an end, the convulsions within her midsection attained a severity that squeezed syrup from her lower lips, and a distressed coo from out of the back of her throat.

“Uuuhhhhuuuuu ♥ ...”

Whether in the midst of an orgasm or its aftermath, Suizetsu would not have missed this groan for the world. At the exact second his ears caught it, the afterglow of his release became sweeter, and a healthy chunk of his desire for Artoria was torn from the towering monolith erected with his core.

With this, all that remained for him was repetition–a ceaseless attempt at slaking a thirst unwilling to be quenched.

 -

CONSEQUENES OF NEGLIGENCE

Within an hour of Suizetsu inundating her face and stomach with semen, Artoria reported the persistence of the same niggling discomfort that had driven her to seek him out in the first place. 

Despite having done everything that was asked of her—this on top of her breathing in the nostril-addling stink of his bedroom as she waited for the sensation to pass—her feminine innards refused to settle. 

Their plight was simple: until her uterus was swollen with semen and her ovaries were forced into ovulation, her intercourse with Suizetsu needed to continue—whether Artoria wanted as much or not.

While left confused and distraught by this outcome, the information that she had gleaned from her time as a sperm dumpster allowed her to be proactive. Upon reporting her condition to Suizetsu, Artoria proposed a potential ‘solution’ to her problem with pubes arced to the edges of her lips and the dregs of a vile load of semen greasing her face.

In defiance of its contents, she somehow managed to do so with a straight face as well.

“S-Suizetsu-san…”

“I apologize for the inconvenience, b-but I don’t think your method were entirely sufficient. I realize that you selected them solely for my sake, but you needn’t worry about frightening me anymore—”

“As much as possible, let’s fu—I-I mean, let’s engage in intercourse properly now. I have plenty of time, s-so you can splatter your semen inside of me to your hearts content!”

“I feel that this will solve the problems I’m having very effectively. Y-You’ll help me, won’t you?”

If expected to a certain extent, Artoria’s uttering these things to him of her own volition filled Suizetsu with a satisfaction that threatened to rot his core to a brand-new state of degeneracy.

Fundamentally, it was exactly what he had hoped for. Within minutes of Artoria’s ‘emptying’ his balls, the pillar of breeding meat between his legs reacquired the rigidity lost throughout his orgasm, and yet another sickening load of jizz was primed for release near its root.

At a glance, his body was perfectly capable of moving on to genuine intercourse as well. Despite the ludicrous amount of semen that he had dumped out between Artoria’s face and stomach, the engorgement of his testicles with the substance persisted, and his desire to rid himself of it felt stronger than ever.

As such, he assented to Artoria’s plan as a mere participant. Framing anything and everything that was to occur within his quarters as something for her sake (as opposed to his own selfish satisfaction), he gave himself over to the task of satisfying her heated frame regardless of the cost to himself or his free time.

From his selflessness ensued several days of relatively uninterrupted and increasingly bestial intercourse between the pair. Despite Artoria being the one to propose that they indulge in one another, Suizetsu both orchestrated and enacted proceedings to ensure that they had their intended ‘effect’ on Artoria’s body.

For the most part, these things amounted to hours of rutting either directly behind Artoria or above her. When it became apparent that flushing loads of sludge directly into her womb was addictive to him as it was for her, both his thrusting metronomes and the level of aggression that he invested into them were all geared towards making himself burst as often and as nastily as possible.

Whereas this approach did suffice for producing the satisfaction that Artoria craved—a ‘success’ indicated in her increasingly whorish appearance and behavior—the consequences that surrounded it were as garish as could be. 

Never one cleaning himself up after sex, or the environs surrounding him for that matter, the passage of time riddled Suizetsu’s floor space (and the whorish padding of Artoria’s body) with disgusting splatters of semen in a number of areas. 

In the case of the former, these streaks were joined by squirt from Artoria’s cunt, and within a day or so, peppering(s) with darker wads of the smegma that his shaft produced on a daily basis. Regarding the latter, the constant clapping of a scaled crotch and hairy, grime-lathered testicles against Artoria’s once-pristine flesh provide both her asscheeks, crotch, and even her mons with a healthy glutting with semen and pubic hair. 

More significant than the conditions created within Suizetsu’s quarters were those crafted outside of them. 

As Ritsuka had predicted, the group’s return from the Rome irregularity marked the beginning of a brief period of downtime for his group. Ordinarily, this time would have seen Suizetsu left to his own devices whilst Ritsuka invested vital time into maintaining and developing his bonds with his servants. 

Such was the natural order of things; Ritsuka was a master, and by necessity, Suizetsu wasn’t.

For Artoria, though, the pleasure that she derived from being bred by Suizetsu maintained an appeal that her time with Ritsuka couldn’t match. So as to not draw suspicion from her beloved master, she made an effort to present herself outside of Suizetsu’s room for a few minutes each day to prove her ‘well-being’. Disheveled, musty, and often in possession of stains or smears of semen that should have made the source of her preoccupation obvious, each of these presentations coincided with a near-immediate descent back from whence she had come.

In each case, the excuse that she provided was a desire for resolution. Apparently, she and Suizetsu had managed to find common ground—ground atop which she hoped to foster a functional relationship for the duration of his partnership with Ritsuka. Like this, she framed her fixation on him as something that she had adopted for his sake, and acquired just enough ‘trust’ and ‘understanding’ to excuse her sequestering herself with Suizetsu for days on end.

Escalation for this circumstance was inevitable. For each day of mindless intercourse that passed, Artoria’s taste for the sensation of semen flooding her holes grew more and more bestial. The high that she derived from breathing in the air that surrounded Suizetsu became sharper, and her desire to use her feminine innards—as opposed to any of her legendary strength or magical capacity—began to consume increasingly large fractions of her mind.

Well aware of the degradation that was occurring within her, Suizetsu completely detached himself from all thoughts of consequence. At last positioned to breed and brutalize Artoria in any way that he saw fit, he prioritized emptying his balls of their excess semen over anything resembling sense or reason.

Nearly 4 days after Artoria’s ill-advised shuffle into his quarters, his mindset facilitated the creation of one of the most debased sights his bedroom had entertained up into this point.

In it, Artoria sat propped up on her knees and the moistened fat of her ass directly ahead of the semi-erect swell of his cock. Shaft ‘reduced’ to this state by the last orgasm he had enjoyed—a reeking outflow whose contents could be seen smeared between Artoria’s exposed cleavage and the peak of her face—the fact that Suizetsu remained upright on all fours served as a testament to his newfound control of his wyvern form.

Understandably, the quality of his display was the furthest thing from Suizetsu’s mind as he produced it. 

Then and there, the only thing that he concerned himself was the ‘purpose’ that the position was to serve.

“Whew, now that was a good nut, Artoria-chan! You’re really getting the hang of this!” Suizetsu grunted. “I’ll be ready to fuck you again in just a sec’. ‘Till then, why don’t you open nice and wide for me—”

“I’ve got another treat ready to tide you over!”

Well aware of the ‘treat’ that her suitor had in mind, Artoria did not think about the meaning behind his words for even a second. Setting her palms into formal compressions atop her kneecaps, she did away with the perverse smile on her face to spread her lips and push the semen-stained stretch of her tongue through a lengthy unfurling out of her mouth. Then, despite her face being invisible to her suitor, she hungrily wagged it expanse from left to right in anticipation of her treat.

Partway through her display, she even went as far as conveying her readiness with her voice.

“Arigato gozaimasu, Suizetsu-san ♥ . I’ll consume it as quickly as I can—a-anything that allows you to fuck me again sooner is an undertaking I’ll readily accept ♥ !”

“Please blast more of your piss across my face!”

So did Artoria state her request was it granted to her in the most brutal form possible. The moment she finished speaking, a brief tightening of Suizetsu’s erection carried a hose-like outflow of yellow urine into a pressurized splatter right against the middle of her face. With her features set only inches out of point-blank range with the stream itself, its force and volume performed the role of an acrid pressure washer for her semen-muddled features right as it made contact with them.

Artoria desired far more from the stream, however. As layered plasters of semen were cleared off of her face, she took it upon herself to spread her mouth again so as to begin guzzling fractions of Suizetsu’s piss stream straight down her throat. Effectively addicted to anything that contained pheromones from his monstrous frame, she allowed a modest amount of the substance to well at the back of her throat before engaging herself in a mixed gulp and gargle of the caustic substance.

Throughout, her only thoughts pertained to what was to come after it. Despite subjecting her regal figure to a position better suited for a common whore, her mind remained utterly consumed by the prospect of taking yet another load of boiling cockjuice directly into the overfed babypocket at her core.

She wasn’t shy about admitting as much to herself, either. As her profile and hairline were soaked several times over, the ebbing of Suizetsu’s piss stream choked her mind with the prattling of an intoxicated school girl…

All so that she might better prepare herself for her next fucking. 

“It’s still so rich ♥ . Suizetsu-san’s essence is so right I can still taste it through his piss.” she mused, happily. “He must already have more of his seed saved up for me. I should do my utmost to siphon out this load more effectively than the last one!”

“If I do, his next load will impregnate me for sure ♥ .”

Charged with a lust of her own making, Artoria met the end of Suizetsu’s urination with a brief surge forward and a compression of her lips around the nose of his glans. Of her own volition, she heartily slurped the remainder of his urine through his urethra before it could be wasted in a dribble down to the ground.

As soon as she was finished with this, she flung herself backwards. Turning her back to Suizetsu’s crotch, she descended down to her hands and knees and began crawling forward until she arrived at a position that allowed her to peak her skull out around the peak of his left foreleg.

This done, she began cooing like a genuine bitch in height.

“Thank you for marking me properly again, Suizetsu-san—I really do think it makes a significant difference with my body.” she started, sweetly. “I-I don’t think I can wait any longer, though. I need you to dig your cock back inside my cunt so badly…”

“P-Please breed me again. Drill more of your healthy seed into my womb until it splatters out again ♥ .”

In the time that Artoria spent speaking, the vascular trunk of sex-worn cockmeat between Suizetsu’s length reacquired all of its fear-inspiring length and thickness. In response to these sensations (and the desire that backed them), Suizetsu matched Artoria’s forward shuffle with an ingress of his own.

His, however, ended right as the drooling slant of his glans was bunted up against the wobbling plush of Artoria’s asscheeks. Instinctually aware of where her semen-glutted slit sat, he bent his hindlegs downwards ever so slightly to level the reptilian battering ram with the oozing puffiness of Artoria’s lower lips.

Once finished with this, he turned his attentions towards her earnest.

“G’haha, now that’s what I like to hear! You know how to ask for it like a proper cocksleeve now, don’t you?” he started, jovially. “Let’s stop talking, then—I don’t want to hear another word out of your mouth until slurp another load of jizz out of my cock!”

“This time I’ll impregnate you for sure!”

In true bestial fashion, these words heralded immediate changes in the pair’s coupling. Trained to understand how to best facilitate her penetration, Suizetsu’s declaration prompted Artoria to bend her arms and lower the oppressive bloat of her tits closer to the ground (this so as to better support Suizetsu’s weight). In time with this, the nearness of her cunt drew Suizetsu’s bestial groin through a weight-backed inward thrust that skewered the flesh of his cock through a semen-lubricated ingress right back into her cunt.

Wrought from this was the initiation of yet another doggystyle-goring of Artoria’s cunt. Onward from the beginnings of her penetration, the inch-by-inch depression of Suizetsu’s shaft into her folds (an event that began and ended in the blink of an eye in practice) incrementally replaced dregs from his last orgasm out of her cunt. A foot or so through the ingress itself, the beaten face of her cervix swallowed the slanted nose of his glans into her womb, and thereafter spread itself around rugged inches of his cocktrunk until the full length of the organ was swathed between it and the sex-gunked confines of her vaginal canal.

The ease with which Suizetsu accomplished these things was a product of familiarity. After drilling his cock through the once-virginal tightness of Artoria’s countless times over the preceding few days, the startling tightness of her inner walls and the ravenous pliancy of her cervix lost some of the debilitating potency that they had started with. Further, the greasing of her innards with copious amounts of semen–to say nothing of the syrup that oozed from her folds on a perpetual basis–’softened’ the starving vice’s embrace into something both pleasurable and tolerable for him.

When first he attempted to uncork her, the unused tightness of her vaginal canal and its kiln-like temperature had very nearly sucked a load of semen straight out of him. Every inch that he wedged inside her–every portly blood vessel and rugged patch of trunk–was subjected to defensive compressions to be expected of the innards of a ruler. To make matters worse, her cervix put forth a spongy defense that required a half day’s effort for him to overcome–a slovenly and painstaking experience that wrung several fetid loads of semen through his length as he worked to complete it.

His reward for the stresses that he endured during this period was a hole that desired his shaft and his shaft alone. After breaking into the confines of Artoria’s womb and flooding it with his nut, every subsequent attempt he made at rutting her inspired her insides to one of deference or facilitation.

His latest goring of her folds was no different. Upon hooking 4 inches of his breeding tower back through her folds to initiate his thrusting metronome (a paltry fraction meant to keep his strokes close ranged), the languid acceptance that her inner walls put forth was replaced by an onset of tightness. Impotent and short-lived, the only purpose accomplished by the pulsing clench was a brief instance of massage for the trunk inches that Suizetsu wrenched through her folds.

In this was the difference between the Artoria of the past and the one that existed in the present. Instead of stubbornly attempting to squeeze her womanhood’s invader out of her depths or grind its motions to a halt, her innards produced just enough pressure to convey the needy desire of a sow.

Despite being clogged with several loads of semen; despite being churned into a state of drooling puffiness that screamed of whorishness to the eye; her folds prioritized conveying their desire for further abuse over everything else.

Appropriately, further abuse was precisely what they received. Keeping to the implications of his seed-stuttered retraction, Suizetsu wasted no time transitioning into a downward-slanted masturbation session with her folds. Following a timely compression of his hind legs, he took to swinging his crotch back and forth through curled strokes that skewered and wrenched the meat of his shaft through Artoria’s guts at pace of a piston.

Among the countless feral thrusting patterns that he could have chosen, this one provided him with the bliss that he desired most in the moment. As only a negligible fraction of his cock was drawn out of Artoria’s folds at a time, its majority was allowed to sit in her folds’ humid embrace almost indefinitely. Per plunge, this pleasure was supplemented by stomach-distending punches of his glans flesh against the peak of Artoria’s uterus (an ordeal that caused the pudge of her abdominals to swell outwards), and a skin-tight grind of his trunk’s aching flesh through a canal of meat that adored it. Per retraction, the incremental displacement of the seed left within her cunt from his last orgasm was slowly replaced by the discharge of familiar waves of cuntsyrup out against his crotch and testicles, and the same fussy contractions of her folds that bade him to keep his shaft hilted within her indefinitely.  

Potent in and of themselves, the pace at which Suizetsu rutted his way back and forth between depression and retraction made these circumstances that much more pleasurable to him.

The same was true of the feral disregard he put into these blows. As opposed to a conscious, mechanical consistency, Suizetsu flung the weight of his body inwards and outwards as though Artoria’s entire existence was no different than a sleeve for him to jerk off with. Throughout, his fanged maw was drawn slack by euphoria, and the eyes embedded into his skull busied themselves with an indifferent stare up at the ceiling of his quarters.

In this state, Artoria was an object to him. This mindset did not stop him from savoring the incessant *PLAPP-PLORP-PPLAP-PPLORP* that sounded out as the fat of her ass was clobbered by his crotch, and in practice, it took nothing away from his desire to inseminate her. All the same, the sight of him in it suggested that he would sooner destroy Artoria’s mind with his cock than go without fucking a pleasurable orgasm into her depths.

Ironically, Artoria herself would not have had things any other way. Both prior to penetration and all throughout its acceleration, what remained of her psyche desired nothing more than to facilitate yet another orgasm for the monstrosity above her.

To this end, no amount of humiliation or abuse was too much for her to endure.

One needed only look at her to discern her ‘seriousness’ in this matter. After a pair of hours spent below Suizetsu’s underbelly, every inch of the floor space underneath her was coated in some combination of semen, squirt, or filth from his shaft. Despite this, Artoria knowingly refrained from shifting positions so as to fast-track the next penetration of her cunt.

At first, her indifference did not amount to much. Long since acclimated to the texture and warmth of Suizetsu’s seed, she showed no reservation in pushing her palms and knee caps into contact with it and lowering her breasts close to contact with the messes splattered out underneath her.

Eventually, when the dilation of her cervix became more consistent and the bruising punches of cockflesh against her womb more ruthless, her decision caught up with her. Surrounded on all sides by the humidity put out by Suizetsu’s frame whilst the weight of his lower body beat against her back, what little strength she had applied to keeping her arms underneath her was exhausted. 

In time with this, she fell forward. Face dumped into particular glutted puddle of semen fucked out of her several hours prior and tits mushed into the same, what few morsels of dignity her appearance maintained were swept away in facilitation of her fucking.

Although perfectly capable of doing something about this, Artoria savored her circumstance as a means to an end. Over the course of an excruciatingly long 2-minute period, she breathed and groaned into the cockjuice below her face and ‘occupied’ herself by savoring yet another full-on rending of her folds.

Yet again, the spread of her cunt and the distension of her womb were her primary focuses in this. Infatuated from the very first time that the inhuman make of Suizetsu’s shaft forced her inner walls to spread around its texture, the latest parting of her inner wall’s congestion turned her folds in a desperate vice around his shaft. Made to suckle and squirm against every inch of meat that was shuffled through contact with them, every thrust that Suizetsu completed (a dizzying number that only continued to increase) pushed jolts of brain-rotting stimulation up her spine.

The girth of his member aside, the source of these jolts stemmed from his shaft’s texture. Whereas the roof of her canal was steamrolled the underside of his shaft and the convulsion prone pipe constituted by his urethra, the flooring of her cunt was constantly subjected to the hived squirming of the overlapping blood vessels strewn across its face.

Both after a given plunge and through the crescent-sloped retractions that followed, these sensations were joined by the stinging bliss associated with the sensation of phallus meat invading her womb.

Whereas the arm-length bulges punched to life at her middle winded her, every subsequent extraction of flesh through her cervix caused her inner walls to squirt and tighten against Suizetsu’s shaft in desperation. Shortly, the battering of her womb made her feel as though her entire existence was being rutted by her suitor’s cock–an apt description given what she was enduring.

These sensations–and not the increasingly telling throbs conducted through Suizetsu’s shaft–proved the difference between silent and active indulgence for Artoria. Over time, the addling that she endured chipped away at her better judgment until she could not help but roll her features out from their burbling compression against the ground.

The moment her semen-smeared lips were set free, she put them to use expressing herself.

Incidentally, though, her decision to do so could not have come at a more inopportune moment.

“Iiii ♥ ! S-Sugoku iii ♥ . M-My insides feel amazing, S-Shuizetsu-san!!” she groaned, voice made hoarse by sexual pleasure. “Violate my womb more–b-beat it into your image. M-Make certain that my insides can only serve you cock!”

“Inseminate m–”

*KNOCK–KNOCK–KNOCK*

“O-Oi, Suizetsu! It’s Ritsuka–i-is everything already in there?  I haven’t seen you for a few days, so I figured I’d come and check in on you.”

“It sounded like some weird noises were coming out of your room just a second ago. I-Is Artoria in there with you by any chance?”

For the first time in nearly 5 days, Artoria’s frequent absences and Suizetsu’s inexplicable disappearance had brought an uninvited guest to the doorstep of the pair’s depravity. 

At first, disbelief had rendered Ritsuka deaf. Unwilling to read too deeply into the noises that he heard as he approached Suizetsu’s bedroom, he assumed that the slapping and squelching noises that had caught his ears were no more than his mind playing tricks on him.

Opposite Suizetsu’s door, their clarity and consistency denied him this luxury. Front and center for what his ears recognized as a muffled squeal from Artoria, the discomfort that washed over him led him to announce his presence well before he had intended to.

In doing so, he unwittingly placed his beloved servant in a very precarious position. While yet to lose the volume of brain cells that she required to simply ignore the sound of his voice, her physical state and position made meeting with her master a non-option.

To make matters worse, Suizetsu did not appear aware of what had transpired. Evidently consumed by his latest rut of her folds, his thrusts continued with the same brutal cadence both throughout and immediately following Ritsuka’s outburst.

To Artoria, these things spelled disaster. If Ritsuka persisted at the door, he would undoubtedly hear the remainder of her gutting for what it was. However, if she forced herself out from underneath Suizetsu, her insemination would be cut well short of what she desired of it. 

Caught between a rock and a hard place, Artoria’s body made a choice in her stead.

Rather than commit to what was honorable, it chose to be both beggar and chooser all at once.

“D-Daijoubu desu, Master! E-Everything is fine Master!” casting her voice several feet ahead of her, Artoria shouted these words in a tone of voice that she rarely (if ever) spewed at her master.

This tone alone may well have outed her, but Artoria continued to use it all the same.

“A-As I–oouuu ♥♥ —s-said to you before my departure, I-I am merely trying t-to reconcile my differences with–uuhgg ♥ —Suizetsu-san in person!” she continued. “Everything is progressing as it should be, s-so you need not–ruuu ♥ —r-remain here!”

“P-Please leave; y-you’re impeding our progress!”

As if to display the firmness of her intent to a man who could not see her, Artoria’s first move after these utterances was an unlikely surge up and off of the ground. Quite literally inundated with excess mana from Suizetsu, dragging the massive wyvern out of his rut and off of his feet was as easy as writhing out of the hilt he had imposed and standing upward for her. Allowing herself only a moment’s cross-eyed stupidity as she unholstered her suitor’s length from her cunt, she subsequentially pushed her back up against his underbelly and straightened her legs to drive him upwards.

No crashing impact of his frame against the ground followed. Instead of straightening herself all the way through, Artoria only rose as far as was required for a ‘gentle’ turn of Suizetsu’s frame onto his back. This too produced a sound *THUD* that was liable to raise questions for their guest, but in the moment, his suspicions were the least of her concerns.

As soon as Suizetsu was set atop his back, Artoria mounted his crotch as her heat demanded.  Planting a single foot to either side of his underbelly, she then bent her knees into the beginnings of a squat to again align the slant of his glans towards her pulsing lower lips.

Finally, she plunged. Stabilizing herself with only the tips of her toes, Artoria smashed her pre-loosened lower lips down across Suizetsu’s shaft all by herself. Again utilizing the abnormal strength and nimbleness inherent to her position as a servant, she skewered the full length of her vaginal canal right through to another tooth-chipping choking of her cervix. Then came a tenting of her uterus’ peak, and an exacerbation of it by the momentary settlement of her body mass.

For some reason, producing these things on her own harshened their effect on Artoria’s psyche. Briefly rendered cross-eyed, she shuddered and writhed atop Suizetsu’s crotch for a miniature eternity until her folds saw fit to ‘process’ her position with another hissing discharge of feminine lubrication out against his crotch.

Naturally, the beginning of this miniature orgasm was where her interest in Ritsuka’s presence ended. 

Thanks to the vehemence of her tone, a quiet “O-Oh, I see…” was the very last utterance that he spoke at Suizetsu’s door. Opting to remain at the door for his own peace of mind, the weight of his mana and their connection as master and servant forced Artoria to acknowledge his presence at all times.

Of course, ‘acknowledging’ his presence did not mean that she had to care about it. Finding the peaks of her kneecaps with both of her palms, Artoria ‘settled’ her upper body’s posture prior to swinging her rear up through a long ascent up the length of Suizetsu’s shaft without a care in the world. Stopping just under halfway up its length, she briefly swirled her hips through several narrow rotations around the trunk prior to flogging the pube-peppered fat of her ass right back down to the organ’s root.

In producing these things, she found that she hadn’t bit off more than she could chew. Completely conscious after hilting herself and reeling her rear back upwards, the greedy harlot inside of her reasoned that she could push her snarling suitor into an orgasm all on her own.

So far as she could tell, Suizetsu agreed with her as well.  In the wake of an aggressive writhe instigated by the termination of his rut, the gut-rending plunge that Artoria produced and the extraction that followed had seen his frame to adopt the motionless indifference of a ‘proper participant’. 

Taking this as tacit approval of her methods, Artoria threw shame to the wayside in feverish squat-fucking of her cunt with Suizetsu’s cock. Beginning by dropping her buttocks’ fat down to a squirt-greased *PLAPP!* against his cockroot, she moved back and forth between reproducing these ascents and descents until a slovenly metronome took shape.

To a point, ‘slovenly’ almost failed to describe it. With lips drawn into a narrow ‘o’ shape and eyes fixed in a lust-addled stare at Suizetsu’s middle, Artoria repeatedly debased herself for the sole purpose of punching his endowment through the seizing embrace of her folds. 

A given squat-flog of her rear squeezed vile gulping noises from her lower lips, and later smothered these noises with a deafening compression of assfat against Suizetsu’s testicles. Familiar debilitating grinds of his shaft’s texture were imposed on her folds, and thud-inducing bulges were again fed to life at her midsection.

At the same time, slight gyrations of Artoria’s hips provide them with a perverse air unseen throughout her fucking. Given a prolonged glance at how these swirls facilitated the engulfment of Suizetsu’s shaft, one would have no trouble imagining the woman that produced them as the same sort of mindless beast that Suizetsu had become.

Further motivation for this could be seen at her front. As a consequence of the speed with which she rose from out of her squats (and the vehemence that she used to dispossess her folds of cock), a great deal of momentum was built up for her upper body. Specifically, the sow-like mass of her tits were drawn into sordid, swinging *CLOP(S)* against her upper abdominals less than a minute into her bounce.

This sight as combined with the wobbling of her ass, the bulging of her stomach, and the depraved lolling of her tongue from out of the edge of her mouth formed the final nail in the coffin of Artoria’s original nature. Apparently content to trade every single aspect of her previous self, she maintained these sights and the noises attached to them without a care in the world.

The possibility of Ritsuka’s persistence outside Suizetsu’s door did not factor into her efforts in the slightest. After demanding that he depart, whether or not he remained to listen to the flopping of her tits against themselves and the sodden plapping of her ass against his crotch lost its importance to her.

Comparatively, Suizetsu’s orgasm factored into her work a great deal. In her fixation on it, the wriggling and swelling of his shaft became more important than her heartbeat, and the volume of precum that it released more salient than her own squirting.

Content to track these things for minutes on end without thought of reward, the arrival of what she perceived to be a breakpoint in their escalation reduced her to mania all over again.

In defiance of logic and reason, she screamed…

For herself, for her uterus, and for Suizetsu’s shaft.

“NNHII!!! IGUUUUUUU ♥ !”

“IGUU IGUU IGUU!!!!!!”

Despite counting down to the arrival of Suizetsu’s orgasm, the actual end to Artoria’s squatting metronome came as a surprise to even her. All at once, one of the gut-fattened depressions of her rear invited a serpent of heat and pressure to worm its way up Suizetsu’s length. Startled by the sensation, Artoria’s quads lost the will to contract, and the tightness of her hilt was inadvertently amplified by their abandonment of her body weight.

Immediately afterwards, the ascent of this pressure bottomed out into eruption. In what seemed like no time at all, a stuttered *GLRRUSH!* noise sounded out from her midsection in time with the discharge of a massive flourish of the substance directly against the peak of her womb. 

Voluminous enough and noisome enough to fatten the organ’s back end as a common balloon inundated by a cup of sludge, its impact immediately reduced the confines of her uterus to a glorified dumpster for bestial semen. Subsequent discharges of nut through Suizetsu’s length turned the localized plumping that this produced into a global one, and thereafter began swelling the organ away from its natural shape and closer to an obscene.

Although the beginnings of this experience gave Artoria every reason to squeal out in stupefied bliss, she didn’t. When treated to the sensation of molten chunks flooding out against the peak of her uterus, she dumped her line of sight down to her stomach in shock. Later, when the compilation of these flourishes began fattening her womb, this same shock bade her to frame the opposing sides of her midsection’s chub with both hands and ‘adhere’ to the sensation as the beginning of the next ‘phase’ of her life as a servant.

Suizetsu’s seed left her with no other choice. Although invisible to the naked eye during the beginnings of his orgasm, the same congested yellow gunk that she had felt spewed out into her throat, cunt, and intestines over the course of the past few days was blasted out directly into her uterus in obscene quantities. This flourish, though, contained a slightly more bulbous variety of the substance heated to a temperature meant to ‘soothe’ any flesh that it came into contact with. As a result, its smearing and subsequent inundation of her womb was welcomed by the organ in spite of the pressure and distension that this created inside of her.

So far as Artoria was concerned, this sensation represented the difference between a simple flooding of her uterus with seed, and an active attempt at breeding her. The dragon blood within her understood this instinctively, and thusly adjusted her approach to the event (i.e., her body’s and mind’s) accordingly.

For a time, all she did was listen. As each flourish of nut squeezed out into her cunt consisted of the same massive ropes that had initially been splattered across her face, grotesque *GLORP* noises rumbled through her body cavity and out through the open-air each time their contents were folded in against one another.

Entertaining a certain amount of these noises brought her to a state that softened the cock-skewered tautness of her midsection with a healthy paunch provided by her semen-inundated uterus. At this, the rancid virility of the substance and the vigorous squirming of the sperm cells that it contained acquired enough salience to cripple her adherence altogether.

First, she fell forward. No longer willing to support the weight of her upper body, she dumped her breasts just short of an outright flop against Suizetsu’s underbelly so as to push even more of her body weight down against her rear.

From this point onwards, the quality of his semen acquired uncanny importance to her. Despite having already created several dangerous fits of noise in the lead-up to Suizetsu’s orgasm, she refrained from screaming this importance into the air in favor of mulling it over inside her head.

Predictably, though, the manner in which she did so was no less coherent or meaningful than anything she might’ve spewed from her throat.

“N-Ninshin sareru ♥ . Sperm cells are going to impregnate me ~!. My blood…m-my very essence as a woman won’t accept anything else.” she mewled.

“T-Thank you for developing me, Master ♥ . T-Thank you for preparing my body for Suizetsu-san’s writhing cockjuice. I-I’ll do my best to put my insides to use birthing his child ♥ .”

Like all of her utterances before them, the words that Artoria spoke to herself were entirely influenced by the goings-on inside of her. Within seconds of her ‘paunch’ bloating into the scale of a small (and impressively mushy) watermelon, the volume of semen inside her cunt reaped two telling consequences for her frame.

The first was ovulation. Precisely as Suizetsu had reasoned, repeatedly splattering loads of jizz into her womb whilst subjecting her to the stench of his masculinity had resulted in Artoria’s ovaries accepting his qualities as a mate. Thus, additional fractions of the excess mana flushed into her frame were taken up by her reproductive organs so that they might function as they were meant to.

Throughout the same seconds that ova from both of her ovaries were ejected into her feminine tubing, the natural limits of her innards fought to maintain the new status quowithin her. Before her uterus could swell any further, orgasmic convulsions within the lower reaches of the organ pulled haggard splatters of excess seed out into muted, batter-like splatters out of her lower lips and down across the sheath of Suizetsu’s shaft. Behind the massive wave constituted by the first, the dregs of her suitor’s orgasm saw to the discharge of a handful of others that added to the mess spewed across his testicles.

So far as her innards were concerned, this was a perfectly reasonable price to pay for their insemination. When at last the wriggling grind of Artoria’s ova dumped them out into the confines of her uterus, an arbitrarily “perfect” volume of semen sat ready and waiting to consume them.

And consume them they did. No different than pretty surrounded by an endless sea of predators, the fertile pudge of these cells were immediately swarmed by obese tadpoles hellbent on their ruination. Perforated by several cells from several different angles, each one was swelled by genetic material until one lucky cell arrived where it ought to be.

What occurred after this was a blur to Artoria. After her eyes were widened in bliss, the explosion of a second orgasm through her cunt replaced all of her conscious thoughts with the euphoria of a satisfied breeder.

Conversely, Suizetsu experienced it firsthand. Though ignorant as to his muse’s exact condition, both the screams that she produced and the convulsions that accompanied them told him everything that he needed to know about it.

Now descended from the high of his release for over a minute, the venomous degenerate inside of him tempted him to add insult to whatever injury their unexpected guest might’ve endured.

However, Artoria never came him the chance. Like a wounded animal, the first squeal that she produced bled into several others in quick succession.

On the basis of their ear-piercing quality alone, there was no need for him to add onto them. No matter how Ritsuka might try to rationalize them, their make carried a message that even Ritsuka’s core was likely to understand: 

Artoria had been made the whore of another man–plainly, and simply.