Chapter 346: Sexy Mother’s Sacrifice

Alaric, still in his “Brad” persona, dragged Elaine by the wrist. She stumbled after him, her body a mess of conflicting signals—shame, rage, humiliation, and a sick, lingering thrum of pleasure.

“Eleanor!” he yelled, his voice a rough bark. “Go to your room, baby! Me and your hot mom need to have a little… talk.”

He grinned, his “Brad” persona oozing sleaze. “A… parent-teacher conference. About your… performance.”

“But Brad…!” Eleanor pouted from the table, her body still flushed and aching from his rough, quick fucking. “I… I want to watch!”

“I said, go!” he snarled, his voice dropping for a second, a flash of his true, cold self. “Don’t make me punish you again. You know you don’t like it when I’m disappointed.”

“O… okay, Brad,” Eleanor said, immediately caving. The thrill of his dominance was stronger than her curiosity. She loved the “drama” of it all. “I’ll… I’ll just be in my room! Waiting for you!”

She scrambled off the table, her tiny skirt flapping, and scampered out of the illusory room, giggling as she went. She left her mother alone with the monster.

The moment the door snicked shut behind Eleanor, the entire illusion wavered.

Like heat-haze, the rich, paneled walls of the mansion dissolved, replaced by the drab, simple canvas of Elaine’s small tent. The plush velvet sofa Alaric had been sitting on vanished, replaced by his own, dark, thronelike chair. The mahogany coffee table flickered and died, leaving only the empty air where Eleanor had been.

The Scenarium Obscurum was gone. They were back in reality.

Alaric shoved Elaine, hard, against the real tent pole. It jarred her, knocking the breath from her lungs.

“Now,” he said.

His voice dropped. The fake, rough “Brad” persona evaporated, replaced by his own cold, terrifying, silken voice.

“That was a good little play. A fun little warm-up. But now… the real plot begins.”

“I… I don’t… I don’t understand…” Elaine whimpered, her hands pressed against the rough wood of the tent pole. She was trembling from head to toe, her massive breasts jiggling in the straining white shirt.

“Shut up,” he said, his voice flat. “You don’t need to understand. You just need to listen. Here’s the new scenario.”

“A… a new one?”

“Yes,” he said. “You did break us up. You won. You slapped me. You kicked me out. You saved your daughter from the big, bad ’Brad’.”

He leaned in, his face inches from hers, his ruby eyes like chips of ice.

“But… I’m back.”

“And I’m… angry,” he hissed. “I’m pissed off. And if I can’t have her… I’m going to ruin her. I’m going to humiliate her.”

“No…” Elaine whimpered, her eyes wide with a new, real terror. This wasn’t a “game” anymore. This was the threat from before.

“Oh, yes,” he hissed, his voice a venomous whisper. “I’ll take her to the Conclave Square. In the middle of the day. I’ll fuck her in public. Right on the steps of the main hall. While the Magister’s Guard and all the ministers watch.”

“You’re bluffing,” she sobbed. “You’re… you’re insane… you’d be arrested…!”

“Would I?” he asked, a cold smile touching his lips. “Or would I just kill anyone who tried to stop me? And after I’m done… I’ll record it. I have a Veritas Crystal. A perfect one. It captures everything. Sight. Sound. Emotion. A perfect little echo-stone of her shame.”

“A… a Veritas Crystal…?” she whispered, horrified. Those were military-grade magical tools, rare and forbidden for civilian use.

“A flawless one,” he confirmed. “And I’ll send that crystal… that perfect memory of me breaking your daughter… to your idiot husband. A public viewing, perhaps? A ’gift’ from his daughter’s boyfriend.”

“I’ll destroy her. I’ll destroy your family’s name for a thousand years.”

“Please…” she begged, the tears streaming down her face now, her whole body shaking. “No… she’s… she’s innocent… she’s just a child… she loves you…!”

“Her ’love’ is worthless,” he spat. “She’s an idiot. But you… you hit me.”

“I… I’m sorry…”

“It’s too late for ’sorry’,” he said. “She pays the price. Unless…”

He paused. He let the threat hang in the air, thick and suffocating.

His hand, which had been clenched at his side, slowly came up. Not to hit. But to caress.

He gently touched her tear-streaked cheek.

She flinches violently, a choked sob escaping her.

“…Unless you take her place.”

Elaine’s breath hitched. “Take… take her place?”

“You’re the one I really want, anyway,” he lied smoothly, his voice dropping to a seductive purr. “You’re the real prize. That hot, forbidden mom.”

He looked her over, his eyes raking her body, devouring her. Her tiny Academy shirt was straining over her massive, motherly breasts. The white fabric was pulled thin as paper, completely see-through with her sweat and tears. The buttons looked like they were about to pop off and blind someone. It was pathetic and obscene and incredibly hot.

His hand moved.

It dropped from her cheek, slowly, deliberately. It traced her collarbone. It hovered over her heaving, spilling cleavage.

Then, it landed. Right on the exposed, white, soft skin of her midriff.

Elaine gasped, her whole body shuddering at his touch, her skin burning as if he’d branded her.

His fingers splayed out over her soft, motherly belly. His thumb found her belly button, her navel. He pressed into it, circling it, slowly, possessively.

“So soft,” he whispered. “So… fuckable. So much… more… than her.”

“Please… don’t…” she whimpered, her body trembling violently.

“You knew it, didn’t you?” he taunted, his thumb pressing harder. “Wearing your daughter’s clothes. You wanted me to notice you. You wanted to steal me from her. Just like in the play.”

“No! I… she… you…!” she sobbed, her mind splintering. His lies and the truth were mixing together into a toxic, confusing mess.

“Shh,” he said, his fingers tracing the straining, tight hem of her tiny shirt. “Let her go. Let her think she’s safe. Let her have her little fantasy of being my ’girlfriend’.”

“And you…” his voice dropped to a raw whisper. “You… become my secret little slut.”

“A… a slut…?”

“You let me fuck you instead,” he clarified. “To protect her. You take all the punishment… all the pain… all the lust… that I would have used on her.”

“Anytime I want. However I want.”

“And… and you’ll… you’ll leave Eleanor alone?” she sobbed, her mind already broken from the day’s events, from the first blackmail. This was her only way out.

“You’ll… you’ll let her be… safe?”

“I’ll be a perfect gentleman to her,” he promised, his fingers now slipping under the edge of her tiny shirt, his fingertips grazing the underside of her massive breast.

She gasped, her body arching into his touch.

“As long,” he purred, “as you… are a perfect whore for me.”

“And… and she’ll never know?” Elaine pleaded, her last, desperate shred of dignity. “This… this will be our secret? To… to protect her?”

“Our dirty little secret,” he confirmed, his smile like a razor.

He leaned in, his face inches from hers, his ruby eyes burning into her soul.

“So… do we have a deal, Mom?”

She just sobbed, a horrible, broken, keening sound. There was no choice.

“Yes…” she whispered, the word a death sentence. “Yes… just… just don’t hurt her. I’ll… I’ll do anything. Anything you want.”

“Good,” Alaric said, his voice dripping with pure, cold satisfaction. “I knew you were a good mother.”

He leaned back, his expression brightening. “Now… for your end of the bargain. Your first… payment.”

“H-here?” she stammered, looking wildly at the thin, canvas walls of her tent. “But… Eleanor! She’s… she’s right in the next room! She’ll hear! She’ll know!”

“She’s in her room,” Alaric said, his voice a low, thrilling growl. “She’s probably… listening at the wall, the nosy little bitch. I want her to listen.”

“But… she’ll know it’s me!”

“No, she won’t,” he purred. “She’ll just think I… snuck another girl over. She’ll think I dumped her and her slutty mother and already moved on.”

“That’s… horrible!” Elaine sobbed, the new layer of cruelty staggering her.

“It’s hot,” he corrected her. “It’s the perfect cover. She’ll be so jealous. So desperate to win me back.”

“Now,” he commanded, his voice hard again. “On the sofa. Bend over. And be quiet.”

“What…?”

“We have to be very, very quiet, don’t we?” he whispered. “So your daughter… doesn’t know… her mother’s a slut.”

The extra layer of humiliation… the forced silence… the illicit, secret nature of it… it was perfect.

Sobbing, humiliated, her mind broken, she did it. She turned, her legs shaking, and bent over the simple, worn sofa. Her tiny skirt rode up, exposing her plump, motherly, trembling ass completely to his gaze.

Alaric didn’t hesitate. He ripped the back of her tiny plaid skirt open, the threads snapping. He undid his pants.

He slammed into her from behind.

“Aaaah… mmmph!”

She screamed, but bit down hard on a velvet cushion to muffle the sound, just like he knew she would.

“That’s it,” he panted, his hand gripping her hip to hold her steady. “Be a good, quiet little whore. That’s it. Bite that cushion. Take my cock.”

“This is for your daughter’s safety, Elaine,” he reminded her, his voice a cruel, hot whisper in her ear. “Remember that.”

WHAP. He slapped her ass.

“Mmmph! Hnnngh!” she sobbed into the cushion.

“You’re… a very… good… mother,” he growled, his hips slamming into her, his thrusts punishing, his words cutting her deeper than his cock.

He made her moan. But quietly. He wanted to hear her stifled pleasure, her choked sobs.

“Quietly, now… shhh…” he whispered, pounding into her. “Don’t want Eleanor to hear… don’t want her to know her mommy is taking a pounding…”

WHAP. Another hard slap.

“Mmmph! Please…”

“Please what? Please stop?” he taunted. “Or please more?”

She just sobbed and shook her head, her face buried in the cushion.

This forced silence and illicit, secret nature made it even hotter for him. He was thriving on her total, controlled shame.

He rode her like that for an hour. Her muscles were aching, burning. Her face was soaked with tears and saliva. Her mind was just… gone. A numb, humming void of pleasure and pain and absolute degradation.

Finally, just as he felt his own climax building, he pulled out.

She whimpered at the sudden, cold loss.

He pushed her onto her back on the sofa. “Look at me,” he would have commanded, but he remembered she couldn’t.

Instead, he tore the front of her tiny shirt open. The buttons popped, scattering. Her massive, milk-white breasts spilled free.

He came all over them, his hot seed spraying across her chest, her stomach.

He was panting, his body thrumming.

“Good,” he panted. “You’re… learning.”

Elaine just lay there, a broken, sticky heap. “Is… is it over?” she whimpered, her voice muffled by her hair.

“Over?” he laughed. He wiped himself off on her torn uniform.

“Oh, no, my dear. We’re just beginning.”

He fastened his pants. “Now,” he said, his voice bright again. “Let’s call your daughter back in.”

“What?! NO!” she shrieked, her terror cutting through the numbness. “You can’t! Not… not while I’m… like this…!”

She frantically tried to cover herself, to wipe his seed off her breasts.

“ELEANOR!” Alaric bellowed, not even listening to Elaine’s protest. “Get in here! Mom and I are done talking!”

The tent flap flew open, and Eleanor peeped in. Her face was a mask of nervous curiosity and burning, hopeful jealousy. “Is… is everything… okay?”

“Everything’s perfect,” Alaric grinned, tucking his shirt in. He gestured to Elaine, who was hastily trying to pull her torn, stained skirt down, her bare breasts still glistening. Her face was streaked with tears and flushed dark red with sex.

“Your mother and I… we’ve come to an… understanding,” he said, his voice smooth as silk.

“An… understanding?” Eleanor asked, her eyes narrowing at her mother’s disheveled, half-naked state. She smelled it. The rank, musky smell of sex.

“What… what did you do?” she asked, her voice sharp with suspicion.

“He… he… convinced me,” Elaine whispered, her voice dead. She had to play the part. For Eleanor. For Eleanor’s safety.

She looked at Alaric, her eyes dead pools of hate. He just smiled at her. A cold, knowing smile.

“He… convinced me,” she forced the words out, “that… that you… you’re old enough to make your own… decisions. That I… I should support you.”

“You… you mean it?” Eleanor gasped. Her face lit up. Completely lit up. “Oh, Mother!”

She ran across the room and hugged Elaine. HUGGED her.

Elaine just froze. Her arms limp at her sides. Her daughter was hugging her… clinging to her… her cheek pressing against Elaine’s seed-covered chest.

The irony… the horror… it was so thick, Elaine thought she would vomit all over her daughter.

“Oh, this is so sweet,” Alaric said, his voice dripping with fake, saccharine emotion. “A real family moment. Brings a tear to my eye.”

He clapped his hands, the sound loud and final. “And to celebrate this new… understanding… this new, happy family… how about… we all play together?”

“Together?” Eleanor asked, pulling back from her mother, her eyes gleaming with a new, dark, greedy excitement.

“Together,” Alaric confirmed. He looked at Elaine, his eyes cold and hard. “You… you’re going to watch. You’re going to support your daughter. Like a good, loving mother.”

Elaine nods, her face a numb, white mask. She had to. She had to.

He pulled Eleanor to him, kissing her hard in front of her mother. “And you…” he said to Eleanor, his voice a low, horny purr, “…are going to show your mother… just how much you love your ’Brad’.”

“You’re going to show her why you chose me.”

“And you, Elaine,” he purred, his gaze pinning her. “You’re going to smile. And encourage her. Like the good, supportive mother you are.”

He shoved Eleanor onto her knees in front of him.

“Start with my boots, baby. Your mom’s watching. Make her proud.”

He sat back down on his shadow-throne, a king surveying his work.

His eyes gleamed as he watched Eleanor, burning with her unmet lust from the night before, eagerly crawl to his feet and start kissing his leather boots, her tongue darting out.

And he watched Elaine, standing by the wall, her arms wrapped around herself, her torn shirt exposing her glistening breasts, her face a mask of dead, smiling horror, forced to watch her daughter pleasure the man who had just destroyed her.

This, he thought, his grin diabolical, was so much better than just fucking.

This was art.

This… was true conquest.