Rise of the F-Rank Hero-Chapter 164: The Orc Chief’s Breeding Season

"Lift your leg, little scholar," Isolde commanded softly, tapping Ariana's shin with her bare foot.

Trembling, Ariana obeyed, clutching Oliver's shoulders for balance as she lifted one leg. Isolde knelt before her, holding the artifact open. She slid the sheer, white lace up Ariana's calves, over her knees, and up her thighs.

The fit was tight. The enchanted fabric seemed to shrink to mold perfectly against Ariana's skin.

Isolde snapped the waistband against Ariana's hips.

Snap.

"Oh my…" Isolde breathed, leaning back to admire the view.

It was a lewd masterpiece. The white lace contrasted sharply with Ariana's pale skin, digging slightly into the soft meat of her hips to accentuate her curves. But the center… that was the main event.

The crotchless slit was perfectly aligned.

Ariana's thick, dark bush spilled out of the opening, untamed and wild. The lace framed her pussy like a window, pressing down the hair on the sides but leaving her pink, swollen labia completely exposed to the air. Because she hadn't shaved, the hair poked through the delicate lace netting, creating an incredibly erotic, raw aesthetic.

"It… it feels tight," Ariana whimpered, squirming. "And… hot?"

"The runes are activating," Oliver observed, leaning forward to inspect her crotch closely.

Sure enough, faint pink symbols began to glow along the seams of the panties.

"Hngh!" Ariana gasped, her knees buckling.

"What is it?" Oliver asked, running a hand up her outer thigh.

"It… it's buzzing!" Ariana cried out, her face flushed with a mix of shame and pleasure. "The lace… it's sending… shocks… right to my…"

"Your clit?" Isolde finished for her, smirking.

Isolde reached out with a long, manicured finger. She didn't even touch skin. she just hovered her finger over the exposed slit where Ariana's juices were already glistening on her dark hair.

"Ah! AHH!" Ariana arched her back, a moan escaping her throat.

"Sensitivity enhancement confirmed," Isolde laughed, looking at Oliver. "Master, her nerves are dialed up to eleven. Even the air hitting her pussy must feel like a vibrator."

"Fascinating," Oliver murmured. He sat back on the sofa and patted his lap. "Come here, Ariana. Straddle me. We need to test the durability of the fabric under stress."

"S-Sir Oliver… I can't… it's too sensitive…"

"That's an order, Scribe."

Whimpering, Ariana shuffled forward. She climbed onto the sofa, spreading her legs to straddle Oliver's waist. As she lowered herself, the friction of her exposed, hairy pussy rubbing against the velvet of his pants made her eyes roll back.

"Haa… haa… it feels so… good…" she panted, drool pooling at the corner of her mouth.

"Now," Oliver said, picking up the book she had dropped earlier. [The Orc Chief's Breeding Season].

He held it up to her face.

"Continue reading. From where you left off. I want to see if the artifact affects your concentration."

"R-Read? Now?" Ariana looked down at him, bewildered.

"Read," Oliver commanded.

Isolde moved behind Ariana on the sofa, wrapping her arms around the scribe's waist and nuzzling into her neck.

"Read for the Master," Isolde whispered, her tongue darting out to lick Ariana's earlobe. "And I'll help you relax."

Isolde's hand slid down between them. She slipped her fingers through the open crotch of the panties, diving straight into the wet, dark jungle.

"Nngh!" Ariana shrieked, her hips bucking.

"Read," Oliver said calmly.

Ariana tried to focus on the text through her fog of lust.

"The… the Elf Princess… sobbed as the Chieftain… ah!… as he grabbed her… hips…"

Isolde's fingers found Ariana's clit buried in the hair. It was swollen, hard as a pebble. She began to flick it rhythmically.

"Ah! Ooh! S-Sir Oliver!" Ariana wailed, her voice cracking.

"Keep going," Oliver said, enjoying the show. He placed his large hands on Ariana's ass cheeks, squeezing the soft flesh that spilled out of the panties.

"Grishnack… laughed… feeling her… her tight walls… clamp around his… his…"

Squelch. Squelch.

Isolde pushed two fingers deep inside Ariana's exposed hole. The sound of wet pussy being penetrated echoed in the quiet room. Because of the artifact, Ariana felt every ridge of Isolde's fingerprints.

"AROUND HIS COCK!" Ariana screamed the word, abandoning the text as she threw her head back. "Oh god! It's too much! The panties! They're making me crazy!"

"She's dripping everywhere, Master," Isolde noted, pulling her fingers out. A string of thick, clear nectar connected her hand to Ariana's snatch. "The artifact also seems to increase lubrication. She's soaking your pants."

"Is that so?"

Oliver tossed the book aside.

"Experiment phase two," Oliver growled.

He grabbed the waistband of the lace panties and yanked Ariana down hard, grinding his hardening bulge against her wet, exposed pussy. 𝙛𝒓𝒆𝙚𝒘𝒆𝓫𝙣𝓸𝙫𝓮𝒍.𝒄𝒐𝓶

"Let's see if these panties can handle a real weapon."

Ariana looked down at him, her glasses fogged up, her eyes filled with nothing but pure, unadulterated lust.

"Please…" Ariana begged, her hips grinding back against him with desperate, erratic rhythm. Her hairy mound slid over the rough zipper of his trousers, the friction sending sparks of pleasure through her enhanced nerves. "Please… ruin me… just like the book…"

"Careful what you wish for, Scribe," Oliver growled.

He didn't need to be told twice. He grabbed the waistband of the lace panties—the only thing separating her flesh from the air—and used them as handles to anchor her down. With his other hand, he undid his belt buckle.

Clink. Zip.

Ariana's breath hitched as he freed himself. His erection sprang out, heavy and thick, pulsing with the same violent intent as the Orc Chieftain she had just read about.

"Look at it," Isolde whispered into Ariana's ear, biting the shell of it. "It's bigger than the description, isn't it?"

Ariana stared down, her glasses fogged. It was terrifyingly large. But the lust radiating from the panties—the magic that demanded she be filled—overrode her fear.

"Put it in…" she whimpered, her hands gripping Oliver's shoulders until her knuckles turned white. "Now! Please!"

Oliver lined himself up with the crotchless opening. The dark, wet hair parted as the head of his cock pushed against her slick entrance.

"Isolde," Oliver commanded, his voice tight. "Hold her waist."

"With pleasure."

Isolde wrapped her arms around Ariana from behind, her hands sliding up to cup the scribe's modest breasts through her disheveled robe, pinching the nipples hard.

"Hngh!" Ariana cried out.

SHLUCK.

Oliver thrust upward.

He didn't go slow. He breached her tight, wet heat in one powerful motion, burying himself to the hilt.

"AAAAH!" Ariana's scream was muffled as she threw her head back, her spine arching like a bow. Her inner walls clamped down on him, convulsing in shock. The artifact on her hips flared with a bright pink light, amplifying the sensation of being stretched and filled a hundredfold.

"So tight," Oliver hissed through gritted teeth. "You really were saving it, weren't you?"

"It… it's too deep!" Ariana sobbed, tears of pleasure streaming down her face. "It's touching my… oh god… my womb!"

"Read," Oliver commanded again, grabbing her hips and beginning to snap them down onto him.

Slap. Slap. Slap.

The sound of flesh hitting flesh filled the room.

"I… I can't!" Ariana wailed, bouncing on his lap. Her breasts jiggled with every impact, her glasses sliding down her nose.

"Read!" Isolde ordered, biting Ariana's neck. "Or I'll stop touching your tits."

Terrified of losing the stimulation, Ariana grabbed the book with shaking hands.

"The… the Princess… ah!… ah!… accepted her fate!" she gasped, timing the words between thrusts. "She… realized… oh god, yes right there!… realized she was… nothing but a… a vessel for his seed!"

Oliver picked up the pace. He wasn't just fucking her; he was hammering her. The friction of the lace against her skin, combined with the internal pressure, was driving her insane. Her eyes rolled back, showing the whites.

"Yes! Yes! Make me a vessel!" Ariana screamed, abandoning the text entirely. "Fill me up! Breed me, Archmage! Breed me!"

"You like that title?" Oliver grinned savagely. He reached between their bodies, finding her clit again through the wet hair. He rubbed it hard.

Ariana's body went rigid.

"I'm… I'm gonna…!"

"Not yet," Isolde whispered.

Isolde moved her hand down, slipping a finger into Ariana's mouth. "Suck it. Keep reading."

Ariana sucked on Isolde's finger desperately, her hips moving in a blur on Oliver's lap. The room was thick with the smell of sex and musk.

Oliver felt his own limit approaching. The sheer tightness of her pussy, combined with the visual of her bouncing on him in those ancient, enchanted panties, was too much.

"Isolde, get ready," Oliver groaned.

"Always." Isolde pulled her finger from Ariana's mouth and licked it clean. She moved her hand down to Ariana's ass, spreading her cheeks to give Oliver a better angle.

"Ariana," Oliver growled, grabbing her hair and pulling her head back. "Cum for me."

He slammed into her, grinding his pelvis against hers.

"KYAAAAAA!"

Ariana shattered. Her body convulsed violently, her inner walls clamping down on Oliver's cock like a vice. A torrent of juices soaked his thighs as she orgasmed so hard her vision went white.

Simultaneously, Oliver roared and unloaded deep inside her.

He pumped her full, filling her womb with hot, thick seed. Ariana whimpered, her body going limp, twitching with the aftershocks.

For a moment, the only sound in the room was their ragged breathing and the wet, squelching noise of their joined bodies.

Then—

Gasp.

It was a sharp, distinct intake of breath.

It didn't come from anyone on the couch.

The three of them froze.

Slowly, Oliver turned his head toward the door. Isolde, still holding Ariana, looked over her shoulder. Even Ariana, half-conscious and dazed, blinked her eyes open.

Standing just inside the door—which Isolde had locked, but apparently not well enough for a high-level Priestess—was Amy.

She stood there, frozen. Her hand was still on the door handle. Her face was a mask of absolute shock.

Her eyes were wide, staring directly at the scene: Oliver, pants down, buried inside the trembling scribe; Isolde, half-naked, clutching Ariana's breasts; and Ariana, wearing nothing but the glowing, crotchless panties of a legendary Archmage, covered in sweat and fluids.

"A-Amy…" Oliver started, his voice cracking slightly.