Harem Master: Seduction System

Alaric thrusts into Cassandra, and she gasps, a sound that’s more pleasure than pain, more surrender than protest. ’Damn, she’s tight,’ he thinks, a surge of satisfaction coursing through him. "That’s it, Auntie," he grunts, his voice rough against her ear. "Take it all."

Cassandra’s body clenches around him, her nails digging into his back, but not in resistance. ’He’s… inside me again,’ she thinks, a dizzying wave of heat washing over her. ’It feels… too good.’ Shame and pleasure war within her, but pleasure is winning, damn it.

"Resist, Cassandra," Alaric commands, his voice laced with a cruel amusement. "Fight me. Make it interesting."

But she doesn’t. She can’t. Her body is already lost, already drowning in the sensations he’s unleashing. ’I’m weak,’ she thinks, a bitter taste in her mouth. ’Pathetic.’

Alaric smirks, feeling her lack of resistance. "Pathetic Auntie," he whispers, his words a deliberate taunt. "Giving in so easily? Where’s the fun in that?" But even as he says it, he’s grinding into her, harder, deeper, enjoying the way her body yields, the way she moans softly beneath him.

He grabs her buttocks, squeezing them roughly, his fingers digging into her flesh. "Nice ass, Auntie," he growls, his words crude, possessive. "Begging for a spanking, isn’t it?" And without waiting for an answer, he slaps her ass hard, the sound echoing in the quiet training field.

Cassandra cries out, a sharp gasp that’s quickly swallowed by a moan. ’He spanked me,’ she thinks, a jolt of shock, then… a strange thrill. ’He actually spanked me.’ Her cheeks flush hotter, shame and arousal mixing in a potent cocktail.

Alaric keeps spanking her ass between thrusts, each slap echoing, each impact sending shivers of sensation through her. He’s fucking her hard, fast, raw, and she’s taking it all, her body bucking against his, her breath coming in ragged gasps.

"You like that, Auntie?" he taunts, his voice thick with lust. "You like being spanked like a naughty girl?"

Cassandra can’t answer, can only moan, her head lolling back against the grass, her body lost to the rhythm of his thrusts, the sting of his spanks, the overwhelming pleasure that’s threatening to consume her.

And then, it hits her, a wave of pure, incandescent pleasure, building, cresting, exploding through her body. She cries out, a long, shuddering scream, her body convulsing around him, her nails digging deeper into his back.

Alaric roars, his own release hitting him at the same moment, his thrusts becoming even harder, faster, until he’s shuddering against her, groaning her name, his seed spilling deep inside her.

They lie there for a moment, chests heaving, bodies slick with sweat, the scent of sandalwood and sex heavy in the air. Alaric pulls out slowly, reluctantly, and Cassandra feels a strange sense of loss, a hollow ache where he was just moments ago.

"Round one," Alaric says, a smirk playing on his lips as he rolls off her, leaving her breathless and trembling on the grass. "Position: ’Training Field Takedown’ – classic, but effective." He chuckles, looking down at her flushed, disheveled form. "Ready for round two, Auntie?"

Cassandra just stares up at him, dazed, her mind still reeling from the intensity of it all. ’Twenty rounds?’ she thinks, a wave of exhaustion washing over her. ’Can I even survive twenty rounds?’ But then, a flicker of something else, something akin to… excitement? ’Maybe… maybe I want to.’

"Get up, Auntie," Alaric commands, pulling her to her feet none too gently. "Round two. We’re not done yet."

He pulls her towards a thick tree at the edge of the training field. "Round two: ’Tree Trunk Grind’ – for a bit of nature’s support," he announces, pushing her against the rough bark of the tree, her back pressed against the trunk, her breasts pushed out, exposed.

"Alaric…" Cassandra starts to protest, but the words die in her throat as he positions himself between her legs, his cock already hard again, throbbing with renewed desire.

"Spread ’em, Auntie," he orders, his voice rough, his hands gripping her hips, spreading her legs wider, forcing her to open up for him. "Let’s see how you like it standing up."

He thrusts into her again, slamming into her against the tree trunk, the rough bark digging into her back, the sensation surprisingly… stimulating. ’Standing up?’ she thinks, her mind struggling to keep up with his relentless assault. ’This is… different.’

Alaric grinds against her, his hands roaming over her breasts, squeezing, kneading, teasing her nipples mercilessly. "Like this, Auntie?" he whispers, his breath hot against her neck. "Raw and rough, just like you deserve."

He bites her shoulder, hard enough to leave a mark, and Cassandra gasps, a mix of pain and pleasure jolting through her. ’He’s… so brutal,’ she thinks, a shiver running down her spine. ’But… it’s also… intoxicating.’

He keeps fucking her against the tree, his movements relentless, his words crude and possessive, his hands rough and demanding. He spanks her ass again, harder this time, the sound echoing through the trees.

"You’re such a dirty Auntie, aren’t you?" he growls, his voice thick with lust. "Begging for it, even when you pretend to resist."

Cassandra moans, unable to deny the truth in his words. She is begging for it, in a way. A part of her, a dark, hidden part, craves this, craves his dominance, craves the raw, untamed pleasure he’s giving her.

And then, the pleasure builds again, faster this time, more intense, more overwhelming. She cries out, her body clenching, her legs trembling, her back arching against the tree trunk.

Alaric roars, his own climax hitting him again, his thrusts becoming frantic, desperate, until he’s shuddering against her, groaning her name, his seed spilling into her once more.

They stand there for a moment, chests heaving, bodies pressed together against the tree, the rough bark digging into her back, the scent of pine and sex filling the air. Alaric pulls out, panting, his eyes still burning with lust.

"Round two done," he says, a satisfied smirk on his face. "Tree Trunk Grind – rustic and invigorating." He chuckles, looking down at her flushed, disheveled form. "Feeling stronger yet, Auntie?"

Cassandra can barely breathe, her body still trembling, her mind still reeling. ’Stronger?’ she thinks, vaguely. ’I feel… broken. And… strangely alive.’ But she can’t deny the faint stirring of… anticipation? For round three. And beyond.

"Round three," Alaric announces, already pulling her away from the tree, his hand gripping hers tightly. "Let’s try… ’Ground and Pound Goddess’ – because you’re practically worshipping my cock by now, aren’t you?"

He leads her back to the soft grass, pushing her down onto her hands and knees, her ass presented to him, vulnerable, exposed. Cassandra gasps, realizing his intent. ’Doggy style,’ she thinks, a blush rising to her cheeks. ’Here? Like this?’

"Spread those cheeks, Auntie," Alaric orders, his voice rough, his hands gripping her hips, spreading her ass wider, making her even more vulnerable, even more exposed. "Let me see what I’m working with."

He positions himself behind her, his cock pressing against her entrance, teasing, tormenting, making her ache with anticipation. "Ready to be pounded, Goddess?" he whispers, his breath hot against her ear.

And then, he thrusts, slamming into her from behind, hard and deep, filling her completely, stretching her tight walls, making her gasp with pleasure and a hint of pain. ’Doggy style,’ she thinks again, her mind still struggling to process the raw intensity of it all. ’It’s… so deep. So… primal.’

Alaric pounds into her from behind, his hands gripping her hips, guiding her movements, controlling her completely. He spanks her ass again, harder than before, the slaps echoing across the training field, each impact sending jolts of sensation through her.

"You’re taking it like a champ, Auntie," he growls, his voice thick with lust. "Such a good little whore for your nephew, aren’t you?"

Cassandra moans, unable to deny the truth in his words. She is being a whore for him, her nephew, in the middle of a training field, exposed, vulnerable, completely at his mercy. And yet… she’s enjoying it. She’s craving it. She’s lost.

The pleasure builds again, faster and fiercer than ever before, a tidal wave of sensation crashing over her, sweeping her away, drowning her in ecstasy. She screams, a long, primal cry of release, her body convulsing around him, her ass clenching, milking him for every last drop.

Alaric roars, his own climax hitting him like a thunderbolt, his thrusts becoming frantic, desperate, until he’s shuddering against her, groaning her name, his seed spilling into her yet again.

They stay like that for a moment, chests heaving, bodies slick with sweat, the scent of sex mingling with the scent of grass and earth. Alaric pulls out slowly, reluctantly, leaving her trembling and weak on her hands and knees.

"Round three complete," he says, a satisfied smirk on his face. "Ground and Pound Goddess – fitting for my Auntie, don’t you think?" He chuckles, looking down at her flushed, panting form. "Still want to resist, Cassandra?"

Cassandra just collapses onto her side, gasping for breath, her body completely spent, her mind a blank slate. ’Resist?’ she thinks, vaguely. ’What’s the point? I’m already his.’ And in a strange, twisted way, that thought… it’s almost… comforting.

Alaric laughs again, a low, predatory sound. "Don’t worry, Auntie," he says, his voice laced with amusement. "We’ve got seventeen more rounds to go. Plenty of time to break you completely." And he grins, a wide, cruel, utterly irresistible grin. "And plenty of new positions to try."

Alaric grins down at Cassandra, his ruby eyes gleaming with predatory amusement. "Seventeen more rounds to go, Auntie. Let’s not waste any time." He hauls her up again, her legs still shaky beneath her. "Round four: ’Standing Milf Mount’ – because you’re gonna ride me standing, like the powerful woman you pretend to be."

He positions her facing him, his cock already straining against his trousers again, impossibly hard. "Up you go, Auntie," he commands, lifting her effortlessly, wrapping her legs around his waist, her bare thighs gripping his hips.

Cassandra gasps, her hands instinctively going to his shoulders for balance. ’Standing?’ she thinks, a thrill of vertigo mixed with arousal. ’This is… precarious.’

"Hold on tight, Auntie," Alaric chuckles, his hands gripping her ass, holding her firmly in place. "Wouldn’t want you falling off, now would we?" And then he thrusts upwards, impaling her standing up, the force of the impact making her gasp.

"Whoa," she breathes out, her body adjusting to the new angle, the new sensation. ’Standing… it’s… intense.’

Alaric starts to move, his hips grinding against hers, his hands squeezing her ass, his mouth finding her neck, biting, sucking, leaving a trail of wet heat. "Ride me, Auntie," he growls, his voice rough against her skin. "Show me what you’ve got."

Cassandra hesitates for a moment, unsure, then, driven by a sudden surge of defiance, she starts to move, riding him standing up, her thighs burning, her core muscles clenching, her breath coming in ragged gasps.

"That’s it, Auntie," Alaric encourages, his voice laced with approval. "Ride that cock. Make it yours." He’s thrusting into her, matching her rhythm, their bodies moving together, a frantic, exhilarating dance.

He reaches up, cupping her breasts again, his thumbs teasing her nipples, drawing out moans from her lips. "Big tits bouncing, Auntie," he murmurs, his voice thick with lust. "So fucking hot."

Cassandra moans louder, her head lolling back, her body lost to the rhythm, the sensation, the raw, untamed pleasure. And then, the climax hits, a wave of pure ecstasy washing over her, her body convulsing around him, her scream echoing in the training field.

Alaric roars, his own release hitting him at the same time, his thrusts becoming frantic, desperate, until he’s shuddering against her, groaning her name, his seed spilling deep inside her, even standing up.

He slowly lowers her to the ground, both of them breathless, bodies slick with sweat. "Round four done," he says, a satisfied smirk on his face. "Standing Milf Mount – powerful and… surprisingly stable." He chuckles. "Feeling more dominant now, Auntie?"

Cassandra just collapses against him, her legs completely gone, her body trembling. ’Dominant?’ she thinks, vaguely. ’I feel… dominated. Utterly.’ But the exhaustion is laced with a strange satisfaction, a sense of… completion.

"Round five," Alaric announces, already pulling her towards a nearby training dummy, a sturdy wooden figure used for martial arts practice. "Let’s get… creative. Round five: ’Dummy Doggy’ – because you’re gonna be bent over that dummy like a good little bitch."

He pushes her towards the dummy, bending her over it, her hands resting on the wooden shoulders, her ass high in the air, presented to him, vulnerable and exposed once more.

Cassandra gasps, her cheeks flushing crimson. ’Bent over a dummy?’ she thinks, a wave of humiliation washing over her. ’This is… degrading. And… a little exciting.’

"Spread ’em wide, Auntie," Alaric orders, positioning himself behind her, his cock throbbing against her entrance. "Let’s see how you like being used like a training tool."

He thrusts into her again, slamming into her bent over the dummy, the wood hard against her stomach, her breasts dangling, exposed, her ass high in the air, completely vulnerable. ’Bent over,’ she thinks, her mind reeling. ’Like an animal. Like… a whore.’

Alaric starts to pound into her, his hands gripping her hips, his movements rough, demanding, his words crude and possessive. He spanks her ass again, harder this time, the sound echoing in the empty training field.

"You’re such a slut, Auntie," he growls, his voice thick with lust. "Bent over, begging for it. Just like I knew you would."

Cassandra moans, unable to deny the truth in his words. She is acting like a slut, a whore, bent over a training dummy, taking her nephew’s cock like a desperate addict. And yet… she can’t stop herself. She doesn’t want to stop herself.

The pleasure builds again, a wild, reckless abandon taking hold of her, her body arching, her hips bucking against his, her screams echoing in the air. And then, the climax hits, a shattering wave of ecstasy that leaves her breathless and trembling, clinging to the wooden dummy for support.

Alaric roars, his own release hitting him at the same moment, his thrusts becoming frantic, desperate, until he’s shuddering against her, groaning her name, his seed spilling into her yet again, bent over the training dummy.

He pulls out, leaving her panting and weak, clinging to the dummy, her body trembling, her mind a complete blank. "Round five done," he says, a satisfied smirk on his face. "Dummy Doggy – practical and… surprisingly versatile." He chuckles. "Feeling trained yet, Auntie?"

Cassandra just slides off the dummy, collapsing onto the grass again, her body completely spent, her mind still reeling. ’Trained,’ she thinks, vaguely. ’I feel… used. And… strangely… powerful?’ The exhaustion is heavy, but the pleasure… the pleasure is undeniable.

"Round six," Alaric announces, already pulling her up again, his hand firm around her arm. "Let’s try something… more intimate. Round six: ’Tittyfuck Tease’ – because those big tits of yours are begging for some attention."

Cassandra’s eyes widen, a blush flooding her cheeks. ’Tittyfuck?’ she thinks, a jolt of shock, then… a strange curiosity. ’He’s really going to… with my breasts?’

He leads her to a patch of softer grass, pushing her down onto her back again, her breasts exposed, vulnerable, waiting. "Spread your legs, Auntie," he orders, positioning himself between her thighs, his cock throbbing, eager. "Let’s give these beauties some love."

He doesn’t enter her this time. Instead, he leans over her, his hands cupping her breasts again, his thumbs teasing her nipples, drawing out soft moans from her lips. "Beautiful tits, Auntie," he murmurs, his voice thick with lust. "So big, so soft, so… fuckable."

And then, he lowers his cock, guiding it towards her breasts, positioning it between them, pressing the head against her cleavage, teasing, tormenting, making her gasp with anticipation. ’Tittyfuck,’ she thinks again, her mind racing. ’It’s… so wrong. And… so incredibly hot.’

He starts to move, grinding his cock between her breasts, his hands squeezing them, pushing them together, creating a tight, fleshy vice for his shaft. The sensation is… unexpected. Strange. And intensely arousing.

Cassandra moans, her head lolling back, her hands gripping his shoulders, her body arching, seeking more, craving more. ’It’s… different,’ she thinks, her mind blurring with sensation. ’But… it’s still… pleasure.’

Alaric keeps grinding his cock between her breasts, his movements becoming more frantic, more desperate, his words crude and possessive. He bites her nipple again, harder this time, drawing a sharp cry from her.

"You’re loving this, aren’t you, Auntie?" he growls, his voice thick with lust. "You’re a tittyfuck slut, just like I always knew."

Cassandra moans louder, unable to deny the truth in his words. She is loving it, the strange, forbidden pleasure of his cock grinding between her breasts, the raw, animalistic sensation, the complete and utter degradation.

And then, the climax hits, a wave of pure, unexpected ecstasy washing over her, her body convulsing, her breasts clenching around his cock, her screams echoing in the training field. Enjoy new adventures from Freewebnovel

Alaric roars, his own release hitting him at the same time, his thrusts becoming frantic, desperate, until he’s shuddering against her, groaning her name, his seed spilling between her breasts, coating her skin with his essence.

He pulls back, leaving her breathless and trembling, her breasts slick with sweat and semen, her body completely spent. "Round six done," he says, a satisfied smirk on his face. "Tittyfuck Tease – surprisingly effective, wouldn’t you say?" He chuckles. "Those tits are good for more than just looking pretty, huh, Auntie?"

Cassandra just lies there, gasping for breath, her body throbbing, her breasts aching, her mind still reeling. ’Tittyfuck,’ she thinks again, a faint blush rising to her cheeks. ’I… I actually… liked it.’ The shame is still there, but it’s… muted, overshadowed by the raw, undeniable pleasure.

"Round seven," Alaric announces, already moving again, pulling her up, his hand firm around her arm. "Let’s get… oral. Round seven: ’Auntie’s Apology Blowjob’ – because you’re going to apologize to my cock for resisting me earlier."

Cassandra’s eyes widen again, shock and a renewed wave of humiliation washing over her. ’Blowjob?’ she thinks, her stomach clenching. ’He wants me to… suck him off? Here? Now?’

He leads her to another patch of grass, pushing her down onto her knees this time, facing him, his cock still throbbing, still demanding. "Kneel, Auntie," he orders, his voice rough, his eyes burning with lust. "Time to show some respect."

Cassandra hesitates, her cheeks burning, her throat tightening. ’Blowjob,’ she thinks again, the word echoing in her mind, a forbidden, degrading act, yet… also strangely… arousing.

"On your knees, Cassandra," Alaric repeats, his voice hardening, brooking no argument. "Unless you want another spanking?"

Cassandra flinches, remembering the sting of his slaps, the humiliation, the… thrill. With a sigh of surrender, she kneels, her gaze fixed on the ground, shame and a strange, twisted anticipation warring within her.

Alaric smirks, pleased with her obedience. He steps closer, his hands reaching for his belt buckle, his eyes never leaving hers, watching her reaction, enjoying her humiliation.

He unbuckles his belt, unfastens his trousers, and then, his cock is free again, thick and hard and pulsing with need, hanging heavy in front of her face, a blatant, undeniable demand.

"Open wide, Auntie," he commands, his voice low, seductive, dangerous. "Time to apologize to my cock for making it wait."

Cassandra hesitates for another moment, her throat dry, her stomach churning, her mind screaming at her to refuse, to run, to do anything but this. But her body… her body is betraying her again, responding to his dominance, to his raw sexuality, to the forbidden thrill of it all.

Slowly, reluctantly, she opens her mouth, her lips parting, her tongue peeking out, tasting the air, tasting… him. ’Blowjob,’ she thinks, one last desperate protest in her mind. ’I’m really going to do this.’

And then, Alaric is guiding his cock to her mouth, pushing it forward, forcing her to take him, inch by agonizing inch, until his full length is lodged in her throat, stretching her wide, filling her completely.

Cassandra gags slightly, her eyes watering, her throat tightening, the sensation overwhelming, almost suffocating. But then, something shifts. The initial shock fades, replaced by a strange… acceptance. And then… a flicker of… pleasure?

Alaric starts to move, thrusting his cock in and out of her mouth, his hands gripping her head, controlling her movements, forcing her to take him deeper, harder, faster. He’s fucking her mouth, using her like a living fleshlight, his moans echoing in the quiet training field.

Cassandra starts to suck, tentatively at first, then with more confidence, more enthusiasm, her tongue licking, teasing, her lips tightening around his shaft, drawing out moans of pleasure from his lips. ’Blowjob,’ she thinks again, her mind now completely blank, filled only with sensation, with the taste of him, the feel of him in her mouth, the raw, forbidden pleasure of it all.

And then, the climax hits, a wave of unexpected, overwhelming ecstasy washing over her, her mouth clenching around his cock, her throat convulsing, her screams muffled by his shaft.

Alaric roars, his own release hitting him at the same time, his thrusts becoming frantic, desperate, until he’s shuddering against her mouth, groaning her name, his seed spilling down her throat, hot and thick and overwhelming.

He pulls out slowly, leaving her breathless and gagging, her mouth wet with his semen, her body trembling, her mind completely blown. "Round seven finished," he says, a satisfied smirk on his face. "Auntie’s Apology Blowjob – delicious and… surprisingly effective at shutting you up." He chuckles. "Feeling properly humbled now, Auntie?"

Cassandra just kneels there, coughing slightly, her mouth still tingling, her throat still burning, her body completely drained, her mind utterly blank. ’Blowjob,’ she thinks, faintly. ’I… I actually… enjoyed that too.’ The shame is almost gone now, replaced by a strange sense of… liberation? Of complete and utter surrender.

"Round eight," Alaric announces, already moving again, pulling her up, his hand firm around her arm. "Let’s try… missionary. But with a twist. Round eight: ’Domination Missionary’ – because you’re going to be under me, completely helpless, completely mine."

And so it continues, round after round, position after position, each one more degrading, more intense, more forbidden than the last. ’Round nine: ’Cowgirl Auntie’s Ride’… Round ten: ’Reverse Cowgirl Humiliation’… Round eleven: ’Ass-Up Auntie’s Offering’… Round twelve: ’Standing Tittyfuck Grind’… Round thirteen: ’Deepthroat Devotion’… Round fourteen: ’Spanking Spooning Sex’… Round fifteen: ’Face-Down Ass-Up Torture’… Round sixteen: ’Double Penetration Dream’ (just fingers, thankfully)… Round seventeen: ’Standing Handjob Finale’… Round eighteen: ’Reverse Tittyfuck Tease’… Round nineteen: ’Pussy Worship Plunge’… Round twenty: ’Surrender Orgasm Climax’.’

Through it all, Cassandra fluctuates between shame and pleasure, resistance and surrender, fear and a strange, twisted kind of exhilaration. She moans, she gasps, she cries out, she screams, her body pushed to its absolute limits, her mind dissolving in a haze of sensation.

Alaric is relentless, his stamina seemingly endless, his desire insatiable, his words crude and possessive, his touch rough and demanding, yet always, always, driving her closer and closer to the edge of ecstasy.

By the twentieth round, Cassandra is a broken woman, completely spent, utterly exhausted, her body trembling, her mind blank, her will shattered. But in that brokenness, in that surrender, there’s a strange sense of… peace? Of release? Of finally, completely, belonging to him.

As Alaric finally collapses beside her, both of them panting, slick with sweat and semen, the setting sun casting long shadows across the training field, Cassandra closes her eyes, a faint, almost imperceptible smile playing on her lips. Twenty rounds. She survived. And in a way, she… thrived. She is his Auntie, his whore, his completely dominated plaything. And maybe, just maybe, that’s exactly what she was meant to be.