The cold in my chamber had teeth now. It gnawed through the thin fabric of my soaked trousers, a mocking contrast to the fever-heat still simmering in my blood. I stared at the dark ceiling, my breathing a ragged, uneven thing in the silence. The scent of my own release—bitter, salty, shameful—hung in the frozen air. My skin felt too tight, hypersensitive and crawling. Every nerve remembered the curse's violation, the phantom sensations of a pleasure I never asked for.
My mother. Begging. Screaming. Filled.
The images played behind my eyes on a relentless loop. Scarlet's back arching. Shotaro's brutal thrusts. The squelch of her taking him. The gush of her squirt. The gurgle of his cum flooding her. Each memory was a brand, searing itself into my psyche. And with each one, the dormant mark above my groin gave a soft, answering throb, a contented pulse of warmth.
I shifted in the chair, the sticky wetness cold and clammy against my thighs. A shudder wracked me, part revulsion, part… something else. A lingering, traitorous echo of the arousal. The curse had done its work well. It hadn't just shown me; it had rewired something. The horror was still there, vast and drowning, but now there was a current beneath it. A dark, fascinated pull towards the spectacle of her undoing.
I should get up. Clean myself. Burn these clothes.
But my limbs were lead. The curse's feast had left me hollowed out, a drained vessel. The magical suppression that was my normal state felt heavier, more absolute. My ice magic was a frozen lake miles below a thick crust of stone. This was the cost. The curse fed, and I was left weaker, more helpless.
A sound. Distant. Muffled.
My breath caught. Not laughter this time. A low, rhythmic creak. Familiar. The sound of the heavy oak bed frame in my mother's private chamber, one floor below mine and to the west.
No. They're finished. They have to be finished.
The creaking continued. Slow. Deliberate. Then a voice, faint but carrying through the ancient stonework. A man's voice, a guttural murmur. I couldn't make out words, only tone. Possessive. Commanding.
Then hers. A high, broken gasp. "Oh… gods…"
The mark on my abdomen ignited.
It wasn't the slow awakening from before. This was a wildfire. A searing, purple-black light burned through my tunic, casting twisted shadows on the chamber walls. The spiderweb lines weren't just glowing; they were moving, writhing under my skin like live wires. A wave of nausea doubled me over in the chair, followed instantly by a surge of molten heat that poured straight into my groin.
Not again. PLEASE.
My cock, semi-soft and spent, betrayed me utterly. It swelled in the damp confines of my trousers, thickening to full, aching hardness in three pounding heartbeats. A fresh stream of precum soaked the already-wet fabric. The physical response was so violent it stole my breath. This wasn't just arousal. It was a demand. The curse was hungry again. It wanted another show.
The astral wrench came faster this time. I was almost expecting it. That made it worse. The icy room dissolved into a vortex of bruised light and psychic noise, and I was torn from my own flesh.
I rematerialized not in the sitting room, but in Scarlet's bedchamber. The air was different here—hot, thick, suffused with the intimate, musky perfume of her skin and the sharper scent of sex. The grand four-poster bed dominated the room, its crimson curtains partially drawn.
They were on the bed. And they were not finished.
Scarlet was on her back, a vision of debauched surrender. The sheets were tangled around her ankles. Her body gleamed with a fresh sheen of sweat, her breasts rising and falling rapidly. Her red hair was a wild fan across the pillows. And Shotaro Koyanagi was between her legs, but not inside her. Not yet.
He was kneeling, her right leg hooked over his shoulder, his head buried between her thighs. The sight was so intimate, so devastatingly direct, that my ghostly form recoiled, only to be held in place by the curse's unyielding grip.
I could hear it. The wet, sloppy, focused sounds of his mouth on her. A rhythmic lap-lap-lap followed by a deeper, sucking schlorp. Scarlet's hands were fisted in his short dark hair, not pushing him away, but holding him to her. Her hips rolled in a slow, desperate grind against his face.
"Yesss… right there… your tongue… oh, fuck, your tongue…" Her voice was a shattered, breathy chant. Her eyes were squeezed shut, her mouth open in a silent cry.
Shotaro's shoulders worked. He wasn't just licking; he was devouring. His nose pressed against her clit, his tongue spearing deep into her pussy, then flattening to lavish broad, rough strokes over her swollen lips. I could see her flesh glistening, pink and puffy, stretched by the penetration of his tongue. The little bud of her clit was a hard, dark pearl, and he circled it with relentless, flickering pressure.
"Gonna cum… I'm gonna cum in your mouth…" she whimpered, her thighs starting to tremble.
He pulled back for a second, his chin slick with her juices. His eyes, dark and fierce, locked onto hers. "Do it. Squirt for me again. Let me taste it."
His voice… it had a strange resonance to it. A vibration that felt deeper than sound. And as he spoke, I saw it. On the side of his neck, just above his collarbone, a patch of skin began to glow. Not purple like mine. A deep, earthy umber, like cracked soil under a desert sun. Lines like fissures spread from it, pulsing with a dull, amber light.
The Corrosion Curse. He had it too.
The realization hit me like a physical blow. This wasn't just a man seducing my mother. This was a fellow host. His curse was awake, feeding on this, just as mine was. Was it amplifying his dominance? His stamina? His sheer, predatory need?
He dove back between her legs, his attack more fervent. One of his hands came up, his thumb finding her asshole. He didn't ask. He just pressed, circling the tight, wrinkled furl, applying steady pressure until the very tip of his thumb began to sink into the resistance.
Scarlet's back arched clean off the bed. A raw, ragged scream tore from her throat. "YES! THERE! OH GOD, YES!"
The dual stimulation—his tongue fucking her pussy, his thumb breaching her ass—was too much. Her body bowed like a drawn bowstring, every muscle locked. A guttural, sobbing cry erupted from her, a sound of total annihilation. And then the flood.
It wasn't a gentle stream. A jet of clear fluid shot from her, splattering against Shotaro's chin, his chest, with a sound like a splash. Another followed, and another, a pulsing torrent that soaked the sheets beneath her. Her pussy clenched and fluttered wildly around his invading tongue. She was screaming, but no words came out, just a continuous, high-pitched wail of release.
Shotaro drank it, lapping at her, groaning against her flesh as she drenched him. His own curse-mark glowed brighter, the amber light throbbing in time with her convulsions.
When the last tremor passed, Scarlet collapsed, boneless, her chest heaving. She was sobbing, little gasping cries mingling with her panting. Shotaro rose above her, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. His cock, which had never fully softened, stood rigid and monstrous, curving up towards his stomach. It glistened, a mix of her juices and his own precum beading at the slit.
He looked down at her wrecked form, his expression one of savage triumph. The aura coming off him was palpable now, even to my cursed perception. It was dominance incarnate, a gravitational field that demanded submission.
"Look at you," he murmured, his voice that rough, resonant gravel. He trailed his fingers through the mess on her stomach, painting wet lines on her skin. "A powerful fire witch. A lady of a spire. Reduced to a squirting, sobbing mess on your own sheets. You love it, don't you?"
Scarlet's eyes opened, hazy and unfocused. She nodded, a desperate, eager little motion. "I love it. I love it. Please… I need you inside. I need to feel you. All of you."
"Beg."
The word was a soft crack in the room.
Scarlet didn't hesitate. She turned her head, her eyes pleading. "Please, Shotaro. Please fuck me. Fill me up. I need your cock so deep. I'll be your good girl. Your perfect, filthy size queen. Please!"
A grin spread across his face, sharp and white. He positioned himself, kneeling between her splayed thighs. He used his own wetness, smearing it over his colossal length, the schlick sound obscenely loud. He guided the broad, purple head to her entrance, which still gaped slightly, glistening and swollen from her orgasm.
He pushed.
It was slower this time, a deliberate, stretching invasion. Scarlet's mouth formed a silent 'O', her eyes rolling back. She was so wet, so open from her climax, that he slid in with a steady, inexorable pressure. But the size was still astronomical. I watched, mesmerized and horrified, as her pussy lips strained, stretching to a thin, pale ring around the thick root of his shaft. Inch by terrible inch, he sank into her, until his hips met the soft flesh of her ass.
A long, trembling sigh hissed from Scarlet's lips. "Fuuuuck… it's so deep. I can feel you in my stomach."
He gave her no time to adjust. He drew back, almost all the way out, until just the tip remained, stretching her entrance wide. Then he slammed home.
The impact was a wet, meaty thwack. Scarlet's cry was punched out of her. He set a pace immediately, a hard, driving rhythm that had none of the frantic desperation of their first round. This was controlled, possessive, a deep, grinding claim. Each withdrawal was slow, teasing, making her feel every ridge of him. Each thrust was a piston, burying him to the hilt with a force that shook the bed.
The sounds were a symphony of corruption. The wet shlup of her cunt taking him. The smack of his balls against her ass. The creak of the bedframe. And their voices.
"Ohhh, god… yes… right there… you're hitting my spot… you're hitting it!" Scarlet babbled, her hands scrabbling at his back, her nails leaving red trails.
"This cunt was made for me," Shotaro grunted, his breath hot against her neck. He shifted, hooking her legs over his elbows, spreading her wider, sinking even deeper. The new angle made Scarlet shriek. "Feel that? That's my cock reshaping you. You'll never feel empty again, because you'll always remember how full I make you."
"Yes! Yes! Remake me! I want it! I want to be your cocksleeve!"
Her words were like a drug injected directly into my curse. Back in my chair, my body was convulsing, my hips bucking against empty air. My own cock, trapped and weeping, felt like it was going to burst. The humiliation was a living thing, coiling with the voyeuristic thrill. My mother. Calling herself a cocksleeve.
Shotaro's pace began to falter, to lose its measured control. The beast was breaking free. His thrusts became shorter, harder, faster. A deep, rhythmic slap-slap-slap filled the room. Scarlet's breasts bounced and jiggled wildly with each impact, a mesmerizing, lewd dance. Sweat flew from his body, spotting her skin.
"Gonna cum… gonna fill this greedy pussy…" he snarled, his voice thick.
"Do it! Breed me! Pump it full! I want to feel it gushing inside!" she begged, her own hips meeting his thrusts with desperate urgency. "Please, Shotaro! I need your cum! Claim me!"
He roared, a sound of pure, animal release. His body locked, his back muscles cording like stone. He crushed her to the bed, burying himself as deep as he could possibly go.
I saw his balls tighten, drawing up against his body. Then, the first eruption.
It wasn't visible, but I heard it. A deep, internal glug, like a bottle being emptied. Scarlet felt it. Her eyes flew open, wide with shock and ecstasy. "OH! IT'S HOT! SO MUCH!"
The second shot followed instantly. Her belly visibly jumped, a small, tight swell under his weight. A low, continuous moan poured from her lips as he pumped his seed into her. "Yesss… filling me up… so good…"
But he wasn't done. Shotaro's orgasm was a torrent, a geyser. Rope after rope of thick cum flooded her channel. It was too much. It began to overflow almost immediately. A rivulet of white, streaked with her own pearlescent juices, seeped out from where they were joined, running down the curve of her ass to stain the sheets. The smell, even to my astral senses, was overpowering—musky, salty, fertile.
His thrusts resumed, slow and grinding now, pumping the last of his release deep into her womb. "Take it… take every drop… let it pool in your belly…"
Scarlet was nodding, sobbing, her hands stroking his sweat-slick back. "I'm taking it… it's yours… all yours…"
Finally, with a final, shuddering grind, he stilled. His weight settled on her completely. They lay there, a tangled, wet, breathing heap. The only sounds were their ragged gasps and the soft, wet drip of their combined fluids onto the bedding.
The curse's vision began to waver. I was pulled back, but slowly this time, as if it was reluctant to let the feast end. The last thing I saw was Shotaro, still embedded inside her, lift his head. His eyes, glowing with a faint amber residue, looked directly at the spot where my astral form hovered. A slow, knowing smirk touched his lips.
He saw me. Or he sensed the curse. He knew.
Then the world snapped back into frozen, lonely darkness.
I was in my chair. My body was a wreck. My trousers were soaked through, a cold, sticky mess. I had cum again, a dry, agonizing spasm that left me feeling scraped raw. The mark on my abdomen blazed with a satisfied, sated heat for a long moment before the light and warmth slowly faded, leaving only the faint, traitorous lines.
Silence. Deep, utter silence.
Down below, in her chamber, there was no more creaking. No more cries. Just the silent aftermath of a conquest.
I sat in the dark, the phantom sensations of her pleasure and his possession echoing in my bones. The curse was fed. It was happy. And a new, more terrifying knowledge crystallized in the ice of my mind.
I was not the only one cursed. And the other host… he knew.