[The last one đ]
Nami's eyes were drawn to Isabella's throat. With each deep thrust of Ragnar's hips, a distinct bulge traveled down the pale column of her neck, outlining the shape of his cock pushing into her esophagus.
It was shocking, visceral, and undeniably erotic. Nami's own breath hitched, her earlier soreness forgotten, replaced by a fresh, pooling heat between her thighs.
Ragnar's breathing grew ragged. "Close," he grunted, the word a warning and a command.
He suddenly took full control. His hand in Isabella's hair clenched, not cruelly, but with undeniable force. He pulled her head forward onto him at the same time he thrust his hips up off the bed, initiating a brutal, relentless face-fucking.
No longer was she servicing him; he was using her mouth for his own pleasure, driving into the wet, tight channel of her throat with piston-like strokes.
Uh! Glrk! Uh! Glrk!
Isabella's eyes flew open, wide with surprise at the sudden intensity. Her hands flew up to grasp his wrists, not to push him away, but to hold on as her world narrowed to the sensation of being utterly filled and used.
She tried to maintain her rhythm, to swallow around him, but he was setting a pace that allowed for no cooperation, only submission. Spit and tears flew from her face with each powerful thrust.
The sounds were animalistic: the wet slap of his balls against her chin, the choked, guttural cries she managed to emit around his girth, his own low, guttural groans.
Nami watched, her hand unconsciously moving to her own mouth, equal parts horrified and unbearably aroused.
With a final, deep roar, Ragnar slammed Isabella's nose into his pelvis, holding her there as he erupted. Nami saw his abdominal muscles clench violently. Isabella's body jerked, a muffled squeal escaping her.
The load was, as Robin had hinted, colossal. Even with her mouth stuffed completely full, thick, pearlescent streams of cum forced their way past the seal of her lips, overflowing in rivulets that dripped down her chin and splattered onto her large, heaving breasts, painting white streaks across the dark areolas.
Ragnar held her there for a long moment, shuddering, before gently releasing his grip on her hair.
Isabella collapsed backward onto the bed, coughing and gasping for air, her throat working as she swallowed convulsively.
Cum still leaked from the corners of her smiling mouth. She looked utterly wrecked and supremely happy.
Ragnar took a deep, settling breath. Then, with surprising gentleness, he nudged Nami and Robin.
"Move over, my dears."
They shifted, making space. Ragnar slid out from between them and moved around the bed to stand behind the panting, tear-streaked Isabella.
She rolled onto her side to look up at him, her dark eyes glazed but alight with eager anticipation. She knew that look.
Ragnar raised his hand. In his palm, light coalesced, spinning and solidifying into a slender, radiant cord, a leash woven from pure light energy, glowing with a soft, golden-white light.
He looped it deftly around Isabella's neck, the cool, weightless energy a stark contrast to the heated room. With a gentle but firm motion, he gave it a short, sharp tug, tightening it just enough to apply pressure.
Isabella's breath hitched, not in fear, but in delight. A genuine, blissful smile spread across her cum-smeared face.
She loved this, the submission, the slight edge of pain, the tangible symbol of his ownership. She arched her back, presenting herself to him more fully.
Satisfied, Ragnar positioned himself behind her. He guided the tip of his cock, still slick from her mouth, to a different entrance. With one firm, steady push, he penetrated her anus.
"AAAAH-HAANNN!" Isabella's scream was one of pure, unadulterated pleasure, sharp and loud in the chamber. It had been a long time since he'd taken her there, and the sudden, stretching fullness, the taboo intensity of it, sent electric jolts through her system.
She pushed back against him immediately, mewling and begging. "Yes! There! Oh, fuck, Ragnar, right there!"
He began to move, establishing a deep, grinding rhythm in her tight back passage. Isabella moaned continuously, a stream of filthy praise and pleas.
But then, Ragnar focused. He reached for the familiar, borrowed power, the blooming, cloning principle of the Hana Hana no Mi.
At the base of his cock, buried in Isabella's ass, the air shimmered.
From his own flesh, just beside the root, another identical, fully erect penis sprouted forth. It was a perfect duplication, sharing every sensation, every nerve ending.
Without pause, he angled this second cock and pushed it into Isabella's dripping, neglected pussy, sheathing himself in both of her holes simultaneously.
Isabella's entire body bowed like a drawn bowstring. A scream was torn from her throat, but it died into a strangled, continuous moan of overwhelming sensation.
"Wha-ah! AH! Two� How�"
Robin, watching with keen interest from the bed, propped herself up on an elbow. "He can use my ability now," she explained, her voice a mix of academic fascination and husky arousal.
"He integrated it. He's sprouting a second limb⊠in this case, a rather significant one."
Understanding dawned through Isabella's pleasure-haze. Her eyes, already rolling back, managed to find Ragnar's face. "M-monster⊠ah! God! Don't stop! Fuck me! Fuck me!"
Ragnar obliged. He began to fuck her in a synchronized, alternating rhythm, the twin cocks pistoning in and out of her ass and pussy, stretching her impossibly, filling her beyond belief.
The sounds were lewd and complex: the wet squelch of her pussy, the tighter, slicker sounds from her rear, the slap of his thighs against her buttocks, and her own incoherent, sobbing cries. Squelch-thwack-glrk-moaan!
Then, Ragnar turned his gaze to Robin. The archaeologist had been watching, her own hand idly stroking between her thighs.
Seeing his look, she understood. A blush tinted her cheeks, but she slowly, deliberately, opened her legs, presenting herself to him in invitation.
Ragnar had a pleased expression. He focused again. On the inside of Robin's smooth thigh, just inches from her soaked core, the air shimmered once more.
A third penis, identical to the others, sprouted from her own skin. Before she could even gasp at the surreal sight, he thrust it forward, penetrating her deeply in one smooth stroke.
"HAAAAAAGH~!" Robin's moan was a loud, scholarly decorum utterly shattered. Her back arched off the bed, her eyes shooting wide open before fluttering shut.
The sensation was dual-layered: the incredible, familiar fullness of him inside her, coupled with the ghost-echo of sensations from Isabella, the deep anal stretch, the pounding rhythm.
It was a psychic and physical feedback loop, intensifying everything.
To keep from screaming herself hoarse, she grabbed a pillow from beside her, shoved it against her face, and bit down hard into the fabric, her body trembling as she was fucked by the phantom limb sprouting from her own body.
Ragnar groaned, the pleasure now tripled. The sensations from three different, incredibly tight channels, Isabella's ass and pussy, Robin's pussy, converged on his nervous system, creating a feedback loop of escalating ecstasy.
It was immense, nearly overwhelming even for him. His eyes, blazing with power and lust, scanned the room and landed on Nami.
The navigator had been watching the entire spectacle, one hand pinching and rolling her own nipple, the other buried between her legs, fingers working furiously over her clit as she masturbated, her mouth agape in awe.
The sight of her, so aroused and engaged, sparked a final, ambitious idea in Ragnar's mind.
'Double is incredible. Triple is divine⊠how would quadruple feel?'
He focused his will one more time, pushing the borrowed ability to its limit. On Nami's inner thigh, mirroring Robin, the air distorted. A fourth and final cloned cock blossomed into existence from her sun-kissed skin.
Nami's eyes snapped down, her masturbation stopping abruptly. "Wha-AHHHHH~!"
Her question was cut off as the member surged forward, impaling her freshly used, still-sensitive pussy with commanding force.
The shock of the penetration, combined with the sudden, dizzying influx of shared sensation from both Isabella and Robin, was cataclysmic.
A loud, wanton moan tore from her throat, higher-pitched than Robin's. Instinctively, she mirrored her friend, grabbing another pillow and clamping her teeth down on it with a desperate, muffled shriek.
Her eyes, wide and unseeing, immediately began to roll back, showing the whites as the synchronized pleasure from three sources assaulted her senses.
The room descended into a sustained, two-hour symphony of unbridled hedonism.
Ragnar established a rhythm, a four-part harmony of thrusts.
He controlled the original cock in Isabella's ass, the first clone in her pussy, the second clone in Robin, and the third in Nami. The sensations were not partitioned; they merged into a roaring river of pleasure in his mind.
He could feel the unique clench of Isabella's ass around him, the hot, gripping flutter of her pussy, the intelligent, rhythmic contractions of Robin's core as she tried to match his pace mentally, and the younger, tighter, passionately responsive grip of Nami's virgin-trained channel.
The sounds formed a chaotic, erotic orchestra, the wet, rhythmic thwump-thwump-thwump of his hips against Isabella's rear. The slick, squelching shlick-shlick-shlick from her pussy and the others.
The high, desperate, muffled screams from Nami and Robin into their pillows: "Mmmph! Hnnng!"
Isabella's uninhibited, vocal cries, which ranged from guttural grunts to shrieking pleas: "YES! FILL ME! BREAK ME! I'M YOURS! AHA~! AAH~! GOD, YES!"
The creaking protest of the heavy bedframe, a constant wooden groan underpinning everything.
The slap of skin on skin, multiplied, was a percussive beat that never ceased.
The faces of his women were a study in rapturous abandon.
Isabella's expression was one of open-mouthed, drooling ecstasy, her eyes perpetually rolled back, tongue lolling slightly as she babbled praises. Tears of overstimulation mixed with the dried remnants of earlier ones.
Robin's face, half-buried in the pillow, was contorted in a rictus of intense pleasure, her brows furrowed in concentration one moment, then smoothing into blank bliss the next, her occasional unmuffled cries sharp and piercing.
Nami was the most transformed, utterly debauched, her features slack with overwhelming sensation, drool wetting the pillow beneath her mouth, her eyes fluttering wildly, making soft "aeh⊠aehâŠ" sounds with each powerful thrust that shook her entire body.
Ragnar was a tireless engine of pleasure, his divine stamina allowing him to maintain the brutal, exquisite pace for the full, exhaustive two hours.
He shifted angles, sometimes focusing the synchronized rhythm to hammer a particular spot in all three women at once, eliciting simultaneous, deafening screams.
He would slow to a deep, grinding torture, making them whimper and beg, before exploding back into a frenzy of thrusts that had them sobbing.
The end, when it came, was triggered by a cascading chain reaction. Robin's body, pushed beyond its limits of endurance, convulsed in a massive, silent orgasm that locked her muscles rigid, her back arching sharply off the bed.
The intense feedback from her climax pulsed through the connection into Isabella and Nami.
Isabella, already teetering on the edge, was thrown over. She screamed, a raw, tearing sound, as her ass and pussy clamped down in violent, alternating spasms around the twin invaders.
Nami, feeling both their peaks erupt through her, couldn't withstand the onslaught. Her own orgasm detonated, a white-hot nova that wiped her mind clean.
Her body bucked wildly, her internal muscles milking the phantom cock with frantic intensity.
Feeling all three of them climaxing around him, Robin's intelligent grip, Isabella's dual, violent convulsions, Nami's passionate, final surrender, Ragnar's own control shattered. With a roar that seemed to shake the very stones of the palace, he came.
A torrential flood of seed erupted from four sources simultaneously. He pumped vast, hot loads deep into Robin's womb, into both of Isabella's violated holes, and into Nami's welcoming depths.
The volume was supernatural, a claiming so profound each woman felt it as a scalding, liquid fullness that seemed to inflate them, marking them irrevocably.
The effect was immediate and total. Robin's eyes rolled back completely, a final sigh escaping her lips before she went utterly limp, consciousness fleeing.
Isabella's babbling ceased mid-syllable, her body slumping forward, a last, happy tear tracing a path through the mess on her face as she passed out.
Nami simply collapsed backward, the pillow falling from her slack mouth, a beatific, unconscious smile gracing her features as she joined her sisters in blissful oblivion.
Silence, heavy and satiated, descended upon the room.
Ragnar stood amidst the wreckage of his passion, his chest heaving.
One by one, the sprouted members faded, dissolving not into nothingness, but into a shower of delicate petals that drifted down onto the sleeping forms of the women like a benediction.
His own, original cock, however, remained standing tall and proud, glistening with its combined fluids, utterly undrained by the hours of athletic sex. His monstrous stamina was a fact, as immutable as the sky.
He looked down at his three women, his navigator, his nurse, his archaeologist, each beautifully, utterly spent and claimed. A deep, possessive satisfaction settled in his soul.
The sun was undoubtedly high outside in the Heavens dimension, casting bright beams through the high windows, but time held no meaning here.
He carefully moved their limp, sated bodies, arranging them around him. He lay down in the center of the large bed, pulling Robin against one side, Nami against the other, and drawing Isabella's prone form partly over his legs.
Surrounded by their warmth, their scent, their peaceful, post-coital slumber, he closed his own eyes. The world outside could wait.