A Step Back

The system pinged softly in Lucen's mind.

[Corruption: 6/100]

It was a start, but less than he wanted. Just fucking her senseless wasn't enough—not for what the system called "corruption." He'd have to go further. Push more.

Arwen lay sprawled on the bed, hair wild, face flushed, chest heaving, her body trembling and spent. She barely managed to open her eyes, dazed and smiling.

Lucen didn't give her a break.

He pulled out, cock still rock hard and dripping, and shifted up along her side, swinging a leg over so he straddled her chest. He guided his thick, slick cock right next to her cheek, smearing her face with her own wetness.

She looked up at him, lips parted, eyes glassy and hungry.

He stroked her hair back, holding her gaze, his voice low and gentle—sweet, but with a hard edge of need.

"Mother… look at me."

She blinked, focusing on him, still panting.

He pressed the head of his cock to her lips, not forcing, just close enough for her to taste herself.

"If you really meant it—that you'd do anything for me…

Prove it.

Show me how much you love me.

I want to see you want me everywhere, not just inside you.

I want to see you open your mouth for me—take all of me, just like you promised.

Can you do that, Mother? Can you show me you belong to me?"

His hand cupped her cheek, thumb brushing her jaw, his eyes never leaving hers.

"I want you to remember this feeling. I want you to want this, even when you're alone.

Show me you're mine."

He waited, holding his cock against her lips, watching her for any sign of resistance.

Would she hesitate? Or would she give in—let herself be corrupted, even just a little more?

Arwen stared up at Lucen, his cock heavy against her lips, the taste of her own arousal thick in the air. She blinked, her heart thumping, mind swirling in confusion and heat.

What's gotten into him?

This was new, bolder, different. She could still feel the aftershocks in her core, her body wrung out and raw, but the look in his eyes sent a fresh jolt of need through her.

Part of her wanted to hesitate.

Part of her wondered if this was right—if this was what a mother was supposed to do.

But underneath, there was something else. A darker, deeper need.

She didn't want to disappoint him. Didn't want him to doubt her devotion.

Didn't want to say no—not to Lucen.

Her lips parted, nervous, trembling. She looked up at him, eyes wide, almost pleading for approval, for praise.

Then she took him into her mouth.

The head slipped past her lips, fat and heavy, coated in her own slick. She closed her eyes, cheeks flushing as she tasted herself, the mix of their bodies overwhelming. She slid her tongue along the underside, letting the flavor linger, her jaw stretching wide to take more.

Lucen's hand cradled her head, guiding her, his voice soft but firm.

"That's it, Mother. Just like that."

She moaned softly around him, nerves dissolving into heat, shame mixing with pride as she did exactly what he asked—proving herself his, in every way he wanted.

She bobbed her head, slow at first, then faster, letting his cock fill her mouth, her throat. Tears pricked at her eyes as she tried to take more, choking a little, but she didn't stop. She wanted to give him everything. Wanted to be perfect for him.

Maybe this isn't what mothers do, she thought, a wild thrill running through her, but it's what I want. It's what he wants. That's all that matters.

She kept going, eager now, working her tongue and lips, wanting to show him there was nothing she wouldn't do—no place in her body or her heart that he couldn't claim.

Lucen watched as Arwen worked her lips around his cock, her eyes big and full of nervous devotion, her cheeks flushed as she struggled to take more. He stroked her hair, letting her find her rhythm—until he decided that was enough.

Without warning, he tightened his grip at the back of her head and pushed forward, driving his cock deep into her mouth.

She gagged, her eyes flying wide, throat stretching around him. The head slammed straight into the back, forcing her to take it all—no time to adjust, no room to breathe. Saliva and slick coated his length, tears streaming down her face as she choked on the sudden invasion.

Ghk—ghk—ghk—

Her nose pressed to his skin, unable to move, the taste and pressure overwhelming. Her throat burned, stretched wide, but the sensation only sent fresh heat racing between her legs.

Lucen didn't let up. He set a rough pace, fucking her mouth with deep, hard thrusts, holding her head in place as his cock pistoned in and out.

Her vision blurred with tears, drool spilling from the corners of her mouth, her jaw aching, her throat spasming around him.

Still, she didn't fight it.

Didn't try to pull away.

Her body trembled, a wild, desperate arousal building with every rough thrust.

He growled low, the sound vibrating through his body as he slammed into her, again and again, using her mouth just as he pleased.

Her mind was a haze—pain and pleasure, shame and pride all tangled up. Her pussy ached, wetness pooling beneath her, body alive with need even as her throat worked to swallow and breathe around him.

Lucen gripped her hair tight, holding her face against the base of his cock as she gagged and struggled to breathe. He slowed just enough to let her pull back, his length slipping free from her lips with a wet, messy gasp.

Arwen's eyes were streaming, cheeks wet with spit and tears, jaw sore and lips swollen. She tried to catch her breath, staring up at him—shaken, raw, and needy.

He looked down at her, his voice low and almost cruel.

"Did you ever do this for Father? For Cullen?"

He brushed the head of his cock across her lips, waiting.

The question hit her hard.

Her heart twisted, guilt and shame and longing tangled up inside her chest.

She shook her head, voice barely a whisper, throat aching.

"N-no..."

She looked down, the answer settling heavy between them. It wasn't right—she knew it. 

Her shame made her pussy ache, her face burning, her mind a mess. She looked up at him, lips parted, wanting him to tell her what to do next—wanting him to take even more.

He could see the hurt, the confusion, but also the desperate need.

And the system flickered quietly in the background:

[Corruption: 11/100]

Arwen's body was still trembling, lips swollen and raw, but this time, she didn't let him push her any further. She pulled back, shaking her head, tears welling up in her eyes—more than just from the rough throat fucking.

She sat up, arms wrapping around herself, voice breaking.

"Lucen… stop. Please. That isn't right… You shouldn't ask me that. You shouldn't…"

Her voice cracked, the ache in her chest finally spilling out.

Tears traced down her cheeks, shame and confusion burning in her gaze.

She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, unable to look him in the eye.

Her breath hitched, shoulders shaking. For the first time since that night he claimed her, she pulled away, retreating toward the edge of the bed, clutching the sheets to her chest.

She didn't move to run, didn't scream, didn't accuse—she just looked small and lost, her head down, golden hair hiding her face.

A silence fell, heavy and raw, the air thick with everything that had just happened and everything they'd just crossed.

Lucen's heart skipped, the weight of what he'd just said and done finally landing hard.

Shit. Too far. Too soon.

He moved to reach for her, voice softer now, regret on his face.

"Mother—Arwen—wait, I—"

But Arwen was already standing, gathering her gown around her, eyes bright with tears and pain.

She shook her head, her voice trembling, sadness thick in every word.

"I need some time, Lucen. I… I love you, but I can't right now."

She turned away, footsteps light but hurried as she made for the door.

She didn't look back—didn't give him a chance to fix it, to apologize, to explain.

Lucen was left alone, naked, hard, and suddenly hollow.

His cock throbbed with need, his mind racing with regret and frustration.

For once, the system was quiet, the silence in the room louder than anything else.

Blue-balled, he dropped back onto the bed, staring at the ceiling, thoughts swirling.

He realized just how easy it was to go too far—how delicate even the strongest bond could be.

Lucen lay back on the bed, jaw clenched, frustration thrumming through his veins. He muttered a string of curses under his breath, still painfully hard, the sting of her rejection burning deeper than the ache in his body.

He flicked his focus to the system, almost to distract himself from the mess he'd made.

[Corruption: 25/100]

He blinked, confusion mixing with regret.

What the fuck? That much?

The system's neutral voice buzzed quietly in his head:

[Corruption isn't just about sex.]

It reflects the strain placed on a partner's morals, sense of self, and emotional boundaries. Breaking points—conflicts between love, shame, and taboo—are powerful triggers.

Host's words and actions forced partner to confront an internal line she never thought she'd cross.

Heightened emotional distress, combined with extreme acts, accelerates corruption.

Be advised:

Repeated or reckless boundary-pushing can risk emotional backlash, withdrawal, or even breaking the partner bond.

Optimal progression is slow, rewarding, and built on trust and dependency.

Lucen stared at the panel, mind reeling.

So it wasn't just the roughness or the sex—it was the push, the breaking of her heart and trust, that shot the corruption up.

He sighed, rolling over and dragging a pillow over his face, cock still aching and his thoughts a tangled, guilty mess.

Gotta go slower next time. Or at least, smarter. She's not just some system point farm.

He glanced at the door where Arwen had left, regret sharp in his chest, knowing he'd need to fix things if he wanted her close again—and if he wanted to keep pushing her further.

Lucen took a long, shaky breath, forcing himself up from the bed.

He knew better than to chase Arwen down right now. She needed time—maybe more than she'd ever needed before. He'd pushed her hard, and now he had to let her come back to him on her own terms.

He muttered another "fuck" under his breath, raking a hand through his hair, trying to will away both the ache in his cock and the tension in his chest.

For now, there was nothing to do but wait.

Or find another outlet.

His mind drifted to Lumi, the nervous, blushing maid who'd been so easy to tease before—already showing affection and a little desire. But Lucen shook his head. He could start with her soon, but not out of pure spite or desperation.

He needed to cool down, burn off the edge.

So he dressed, pulled on his training clothes, and headed out to the estate's practice yard. He let the early morning air slap him awake, letting the sting and sweat distract him from what he'd just lost.

The sword of light sprang to his hand without effort, its glow fierce and sharp. He poured everything into his training—each strike, each circle, each movement harder and faster than the last.

He needed to be ready.

For the Academy. For whatever chaos would come next. For another chance—with Arwen, with Lumi, with whoever fate put in his path.

But for now, he just trained.

Letting his mind go quiet, body moving on instinct, until the ache in his chest faded to a dull throb and his cock softened, forgotten in the rush of sweat and effort.

Time is running out.