I yanked my hips forward, every muscle in my body tensing—six-pack abs carved like stone, veins rising like they were fighting to escape the surface.
With both fists clenched, I thrust, my body responding like a weapon of war, the nearly fatless frame accentuating the sudden surge of a 207th bone between my legs.
Like a missile launched from pure wrath, my dick shot up—erect, angry, hard. I didn't even touch it. Just stood there, and it stood too—six, maybe seven inches, throbbing like it had a heartbeat of its own.
[Hm, what?]
The screen turned.
That golden bastard turned slowly, probably expecting to savor the last glance of a broken enemy, a host brought low.
But this wasn't defeat.
This was a declaration of war.
A war between two degenerates.
I grabbed my weapon—fingers wrapping around the shaft, so thick they couldn't meet on the other end—and in that instant, I moved.
Faster than reason.
Faster than shame.
My hand blurred, the sheer friction generating enough heat to boil water.
This wasn't lust.
It was vengeance.
Most people needed a spark—something visual, something mental.
But not me.
I'd trained for this.
My talent? Refined. Developed. Pushed to a point where stimulation was a formality.
I was a one-man army of self-destruction.
One minute.
That's all it took to load every chamber.
Was it low stamina or early ejaculation? No.
It was the incubus bloodline.
The moment the system had said it, I tested it. And what I found? Control. Mastery.
I could command my dick like a limb, like a muscle I'd spent my life learning to weaponize.
A fapping virgin with an incubus body?
That's a horror story.
For everyone else.
Only a true virgin can understand.
[!?—NOOO!—]
The system screeched, golden threads flaring wildly, as if reality itself cracked from the force I was about to unleash.
And then—I jerked.
Ah, no—
It was more like a launch.
Like a cruise missile breaking atmosphere, my body snapped—muscles flared, bones creaked, every cell roaring like an engine pushed past redline.
This wasn't motion. This was detonation.
A singular act of war disguised as a discharge. Not the list in lust.
"Die, you—"
A scream of defiance.
A shockwave ripping through the air like scorched vengeance flying over enemy skies.
And just then—
KRRRIIEKK—
The door didn't creak—it snapped open like the jaw of fate, unhinged and ready to devour.
Wind rushed in.
Light flooded the room in a holy beam, as if the heavens themselves wanted to spotlight this exact moment of doom.
She entered.
Not stumbled—entered. With grace so surgical it sliced the air itself.
Back straight. Chin lowered. One gloved hand against her chest, her cloak fluttering with poise not taught, but inherited by blood.
A living symbol of nobility.
"Greetings, I am Princess Asperia of House Gromwold, envoy of the Excovian Empire. I bid you peace and—"
And then—
"NiiiuuuuuooooOooOOO!"
My voice tore through the moment like a wild animal breaking its cage after realizing that humans were about to hybridize its small self with a bull.
But sound was already slower than reality now.
My eyes widened.
Time crawled.
And then—I saw it.
The launch.
The fluid, that white arc of sin and vengeance, cut through the space between us like a ballistic missile. Midair. Suspended. Glowing faintly under the light like it was blessed with divine ridicule.
And in that moment, the system moved.
It saw it too.
[!!!]
Its mechanical eyes flared.
It leaned back.
Full Matrix.
Golden, thin, translucent screen whipping, surface arching, back nearly snapping in half like some kung-fu monk dodging a bullet.
[Oh hell no—]
The system whispered like a roach caught in flashlight glare. It dodged.
It. Freaking. Dodged.
Arched, bent backward, letting the stream pass inches above where its arrogant, floating head just was—flickering in the golden afterimage of defeat.
I was still frozen. Naked. Arm mid-thrust. My face a slow-motion painting of realization and horror.
Eyes locked forward.
I watched the payload sail past the dodging system—undeterred, undistracted, and unforgiving.
Straight.
To.
Her.
The beauty looked up.
Impact.
A soft splat—a divine betrayal landing on the cheek of royalty.
I knew she was one because of that princess costume she wore.
Her eyes didn't widen. She didn't scream.
Maybe she was too confused to understand things.
She just blinked.
The kind of blink that makes kingdoms burn in history books.
[...Host.]
The system didn't even look back.
[You're on your own. And here is your reward for first facial.]
[Action: Facial Cumshot on 5th Princess]
[Base Reward: +18,000 Gold Coins]
[Wealth Extracted: +270,000 Gold Coins (18M × 1.5% Intimacy Multiplier)]
[Fame Bonus (Royal): +15% = +43,200 Gold Coins]
[First Time Bonus: +165,600 Gold Coins]
[Total Reward: +496,800 Gold Coins]
Pshhh—And just like that, with a coward's whisper of golden light, it vanished into digital thin air.
I stood there.
Hand still on my dick.
Breathing shallow.
And in front of me, she stood tall—a goddess defiled.
But not broken.
Only... paused.
And that's when I realized—
I might've just declared war.
With my penis.
And finally came the declaration from her side too.
"AAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!"
Her voice cracked like thunder.
Not metaphorically.
Literally.
A sharp, commanding boom that slapped the air, rattled the walls, and slammed against my eardrums with such sheer force that I instinctively clutched my head, hands clamping over my ears, face twisted in raw, animal shock.
And then—silence.
The kind of silence that made everything else louder.
I stood, voice breaking to explain, "Miss, I—I—swish"
But my bones locked, limbs trembling as I realized the world had shifted in a way it couldn't come back from.
And then—I saw it.
Not just the open door.
But how it had opened.
The frame hadn't moved like a door should.
No. It had shattered.
Every inch of it sliced into microscopic, one-centimeter tiles—like a high-res digital object glitching out of reality.
The fragments floated in geometric collapse, then fell behind her in perfect synchronicity as if the universe itself bowed to her presence.
And through that chaos—he entered.
Black armor. Cape dragging smoke. Footsteps that didn't echo—they reverberated.
But I barely noticed.
Because something else was happening.
Something far, far worse.
My head, like the slow rotation of a broken surveillance camera, turned.
To her.
To him.
And then—to me.
A delay.
A full neurological lag.
Like my brain was buffering the next tragedy.
And in that cold, timeless moment of disconnection between thought and sensation—
I saw it.
My dick.
Flying.
Flying.
Like some heroic soldier trying to escape a battlefield it never asked for.
A pathetic, veiny missile somersaulting in the air, spinning slowly, grotesquely majestic.
The wind whistled against it.
And then the sound followed the physics.
Scklt
Like a katana through raw meat.
"—Wh…WHAT—"
And then it hit me.
Not the dick.
The pain.
A nuclear-flash-level agony that detonated across my lower body like lightning licking my bones.
"!—khuckh—ARGHHHHH!"
I howled.
Legs collapsed.
Vision blurred.
It felt like every nerve in my groin stood up, screamed, and jumped into a blender.
"AaarghhHhhhh!" The screams tore through my neck as I tried to touch my lower thigh, only to find blood dampening my hand. No, even my hand up to the wrist had vanished.
The searing agony seemed to be enhanced by a voice coming from that man in black armor, far more capable of tearing through my soul.
"For what you tried to do, death is mercy. Your soul will suffer—because I won't let you die."