End of Chapter 39

Rue gasped, another scream ripping out of her throat. It was fucked up that arousal grew between her legs, warmed as his slippery tails travelled higher to her inner thighs, slimy against her skin. The ink touched. And then her heart seemed to pulse, and something hot within her chest bloomed, roaring through her veins.

"I win," he grinned, the dagger already to her throat, ready to draw blood. "You can be pretty weak—" He gasped, hands released, his tentacles were now closing around his throat, around his palm. The dagger fell. The ink was subsiding from her, dripping off her. And now, it was coming after him. "W-what the fuck—"

His tentacles were hers, and she couldn't quite describe the sensation of her control. It was like having a second limb. His tentacles listening to a part of her that had no self-control. They crawled over his body, swallowed around his cock. His cheeks were now flushed a deep red, his nose crinkling. His legs kicked, arms stretched wide open by appendages that should be his and his alone, and yet they were now hers.

"W-what the fuck?" His eyes were wide, and he stared at her choking on the tentacles that wormed their way into his mouth. His brows knotted, eyes squeezing and then reopening desperately. She could feel his desire for her now pumping sweet and flavouring the waters with his flowery sugar. "What the fuck ngaah—"

His eyes were rolling back, hips kicking. And fuck, it was her fault, she knew it was all under her control. But she couldn't stop what the deepest parts of her wanted. She couldn't stop the way his tentacles listened like they wanted her to. And it wanted him splayed open for her, and then he was. His legs lifted into a squat, revealing fleshy and dangling balls, pearly liquid splattering from a ruby-red tip. The ink milked at the veins of his cock, swallowed his shaft again and again until his tummy was tight, concaved with his pleasure. It crawled into the eye of his cock, swirling. That had his knuckles growing white, his body sweating, his eyes flying wider, garbling around tails that were now exploring his mouth.

He kicked, and they caught his legs, trapped him into a wider stance, one that revealed the cherry of his rim. And on it were her words as he promised. Want me to suck your cock? The ring of gold was pretty in the dark.

Her mind twitched, and she thought of what he said. Valentino's fucking himself on one of his tentacles. And immediately his tentacles were moving, twisting, slimy and slick as they travelled between his thighs to circle his dusky, sticky hole. It sank into himself, frothing within him, shamelessly fucking him. No foreplay, just immediately thrusting in and out as if he were prepared and ready. Altair gasped, moans rising into an almost scream. She smashed into his prostate like a devil, and she felt it, she could feel him. The way he squeezed tight and hard around his tentacles, the soft squishy little swell of his prostate, gummy soft. She shuddered and he screamed, thrashing.

"F-fuck, I can't control myself—" The desperation now danced in his eyes, legs bucking, but he was fucking into it now, fucking back into his own tails, needy for more pleasure. He loved this. His cock spurted, messy into the water. A feather now toyed with the head, circling the frenulum. His hips gyrated into the air. "F-fuck, fuck fuck. Wait, wait," he tried to say, sweat beading but his lashes fluttered. "You're in my head. Rue. I can't hold the fucking bubble. Y-you have to hold it up for me. Please Rue-Aah, ah, ah—" He was drooling, gooey, swollen everywhere and now gushing so desperately, pre-cum milked relentlessly from his cock, hips quivering. "I-I can't—"

She watched on mesmerised, lost in the sensation, confused by her head, by the connection and yet also the disconnect of his tentacles as hers. And then those tentacles were slipping into his head, and her mind was pumped with strange flutters of thoughts. His experience, his way of fighting. The danger of him losing control, losing the bubble. And then of him losing his fucking reputation to the sea of onlookers that would surely gossip of how Altair, the strongest, most confident Esper was seen fucking his own damn tails while fighting with a mere Guide. And he loved it.

He fucking loved it that his Omega soulmate was capable of doing this to him. He loved it so much it had him growing harder, chest so warm, body so hot with pleasure. He loved that she could control him, that she could use him, that she could turn him into a needy little slut. And he loved how his pleasure tasted now mingled with her own, like a bite of the sweetest juice from a watermelon dripping with honey. The imagery flashed, of him all gaping, cum splattered. And oh, he was about to cum so fucking hard, she could see it in the way he rode himself, hard and fast, mouth open into a gape, cock jerking, glassy-eyed and body wrenched into a scream—

A blink and they were both airborne for a moment, the void was gone, breaking open with a shudder. A splash and Altair was on the ground rolling, her dagger slashed against his, now held tight in his fists. And it sparked with the connection, the force knocking both blades from their hands, flying into the air to land by Coach's feet. The surprise was sharp on his face, resembling the one on everyone else's. But worse of all was Altair's, with his back to the ground, tentacles shielding his nudity and the spider-web cum that he'd let loose all over himself, panting hard on the ground.

He stared at her like he'd just seen the devil.

Rue stood, wiping the slime off from her face. Her eyes, she noted from the flash of colour reflected on Coach Garett's skin were now as pink as Altair's. And she blinked a few times, gaze averted to the ground. "I lost," she told Coach, hands lifted into surrender, stepping forward to shield the aphrodite on the ground. "He got me inside there and gave me a second try."

Coach gaped at her but snapped back to work. "You've got potential, you're light on your feet, and you're good at using your body for strength. But you're too open. You don't know what you're doing even if you do know some of the basics, you aren't fit for battle."

"I've got no experience," Rue agreed. The power rush was still within her, bright and bursting under her eyelids. "And I don't intend to fight, just need the skills to protect myself."

"But the last bit back there? That was good." Coach Garett nodded. "Resembled Altair's style."

Altair hissed, pulling himself up, his tails shifted weakly to zip himself up, hiding his body from the crowd with a quivering feather. "He just got lucky."

But his thighs were shaking, and Rue could almost feel the tentacles whispering back to her. And she could feel them, the way they twisted on soft, supple skin, calling her name, shuddering at the root of Altair's back. She flexed, and they shifted, twitching to her desire. Altair quivered, eyes snapping to hers, feathers suddenly raised in warning. His rage was sharp in his eyes, but so was the lust and the desire, boiling hot and almost smouldering. His cheeks were flushed, and she knew that he continued to gush, spraying under his tails, twitching from the aftereffects of her control.

He couldn't speak, speechless by her newfound ability. And Rue had to look back in equal confusion, a strange shrug on her shoulders was all she could give him. It seemed that there was much more she could do than just steal the eyes of Espers.

"Coach," she murmured. "I think Altair's not feeling too good." She knelt and it was glorious that she could carry him, lift him in her arms princess-style. He glowered at her, but his body continued shuddering beneath her from the aftereffects of an orgasm. His tails wrapped around her arms, oddly familiar. "I'll just take him to the infirmary."

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