Chapter 381: Chapter 381

Nice. Now that this was over, I bought five positive reputation points. Thankfully, that put me back where I was… well, at least close to where I was. I spent a lot actually, but I had still some credits to my name in the shop, 2212 to be exact. Hell, while I was at it, I could buy another Mastery Evolve but… nah. I needed to hold onto it, because apparently, there was a new item.

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SHOP [Page 2]

==========================

• Hypnotic Perfume (40c)

• Time Stop (90c)

• 500 Dollars (50c)

• 1 Ability Point (150c)

• 1 Mastery Point (160c)

• Desire Aura (100c)

• Reputation Point +30 (200c)

• Mastery Evolve (1500c)

• Random Passive Skill (1700c)

==========================

Credits: 2212c

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Huh, a random passive skill? It was tempting, but I didn’t buy it just yet. Again, I needed a clear head. Because right now I was tired, so fucking tired. I’d never thought I’d… say or do something like this to a woman. But, well, Carrie had consented and she seemed to enjoy it. And, I couldn’t lie, for kidnapping Kim and threatening me, I kinda hated Carrie. I guess this could be called hate-fuck?

I glanced left. Carrie was lying on the ground, ass covered in my handprints, her cheeks red as well, her hair disheveled. She was fucking ruined, panting, cum oozing from her ass in slow, creamy drops.

“When…” she asked, voice cracked and small. “Is it the next time?”

“Next time?”

She looked at me. “Yes. Next time.”

“Hmm…”

Well, next time? Carrie was… honestly, lower than a human for me. I didn’t like her one bit, not at all. And knowing that, would I really come here—screw her, just to farm some EXP? Shit. It felt like I was betraying myself but… fuck.

“Tomorrow. Same time.” I said, looking at her. “Be there in time or fuck off.”

“O-okay…”

“Now come.” I said, sitting on the edge of the bed now. “Suck my cock clean. I gotta go, I have stuff to do unlike you.”

“I just need to… take some time…”

“My time is more valuable than you, you fucking idiot.” I said, my cock half-soft. “Come here.”

“Yes…”

She crawled between my legs—slow, trembling, knees dragging across the carpet, leaving faint wet streaks from the cum still leaking out of her. Her swollen, red face hovered inches from my lap before she leaned in without hesitation.

I spread my thighs wider. My cock hung heavy, still slick and musky, coated in the remnants of her ass and my own load. She started with small, tentative licks at the base—tongue flat, tasting the strongest part first: the bitter, earthy tang of her own hole mixed with drying cum.

“That’s right, you pathetic, disgusting whore,” I muttered, voice flat and exhausted. “Clean the dick that was just buried balls-deep in your filthy shithole. Lick every trace of your own ass off me like the nasty little toilet you are. How low do you have to sink to suck clean the cock that reamed your guts raw? You’re revolting.”

She moaned low in her throat, the sound vibrating against my shaft as she took the head into her mouth. Lips stretched wide around me, she sucked gently at first, slow pulls, then worked her way lower. Her tongue swirled underneath, tracing every vein, collecting the thick, creamy streaks that clung there. She hollowed her cheeks, sucking harder, drawing me deeper inch by inch until her nose pressed against my pubes and her throat opened fully.

She deepthroated me on the next stroke, holding it there while her throat convulsed around the head, gagging softly but refusing to pull back. Drool poured from the corners of her mouth, running in thick strings down my balls and dripping onto the carpet. She bobbed slowly, then faster—wet, sloppy sounds filling the quiet room—nose buried on every downstroke, throat milking me as she cleaned every last bit of her own filth off my skin.

“Fucking look at you,” I rasped, fingers tightening in her matted hair. “Old hag choking on ass-flavored cock like it’s your last meal. You can still taste your wrecked hole, can’t you? That sour, dirty tang coating your tongue. Swallow it all down, you worthless cum-rag. This is your place now—on your knees, mouth full of the dick that just used you like trash.”

She whimpered around me, the vibration shooting up my shaft, but she didn’t stop. Kept sucking, kept deepthroating, tongue pressing flat and dragging along the underside until my cock was slick only with her spit, glistening clean, half-hard again from the suction and the humiliation she wore like makeup.

I yanked her off by the hair—hard—cock slipping free with a wet pop. Strings of spit connected her swollen lips to the tip. I stood up, towering over her kneeling, wrecked form, and slapped my half-hard dick across her face—once left cheek, once right, then again left. Wet, heavy smacks. Her head jerked sideways each time, fresh red blooming over the handprints already there.

“Slut,” I said coldly. “Fucking slut.”

I turned, walked to my scattered clothes. Underwear first—stepped in, tugged them up over my sensitive cock. Pants next, belt buckled slow and deliberate. Jacket zipped halfway. I didn’t glance back once.

Behind me Carrie pulled herself onto the edge of the bed—slow, limbs shaking—then collapsed back against the headboard, panting hard, legs splayed, cum still leaking from her gaping ass onto the sheets in lazy rivulets. Her chest heaved, eyes distant, ruined.

I walked to the door without a word. Opened it. Stepped into the hallway. Let it click shut behind me.

Elevator at the end of the corridor. I pressed the call button. Doors slid open with a soft ding. Stepped inside. Hit ground floor. Leaned back against the mirrored wall as the car dropped. My reflection looked back—messy hair, wrinkled shirt, faint red on my knuckles, tired but satisfied eyes.

Doors opened on the lobby. I walked out, through the glass entrance, into the cool night. Car across the street—black, quiet. Unlocked it, slid inside, shut the door, leaned my head back against the seat, and exhaled long and slow.

Well… guess I’m not a vanilla guy anymore, huh?

❤︎‬‪‪❤︎‬‪‪❤︎

I had a dream that night. Or… was it a nightmare?

That same woman, with the umbrella, was sitting on a bus stop, but there were blinding lights—like one of those stadium floods—aimed straight at me, turning her into nothing but a dark silhouette against the glare. I stood across the street, the crosswalk painted white right in front of my shoes. I tried to step forward, but a bus screamed past at impossible speed, close enough that the wind punched my chest and nearly yanked me under the wheels. Phew. Heart hammering.

I stepped back, looked both ways this time—roads empty, not a single car in sight. Nothing. I stepped forward again. Same thing. Another bus materialized from the right, horn blaring like a war cry, tires screeching as it barreled straight for me. I jumped back just in time, asphalt trembling under my feet.

“Hey!” I yelled across the street. “Hey, you!”

The woman slowly lowered her umbrella. She turned her head toward my voice, but those fucking lights overhead were so bright they burned white holes in my vision. I couldn’t see her face. Just the outline of her shoulders, the tilt of her head. Who the hell was she? Why did she keep showing up in my dreams? And why had the other goddess—Dierella—gone cold when I even mentioned her?

I tensed every muscle. This was a dream, right? Dreams didn’t have rules. I took three big steps back, sucked in a breath, then sprinted.

The moment my foot hit the crosswalk stripes, the bus came out of nowhere—full speed, no warning. Metal slammed into me like a freight train. I flew sideways, tumbling across the pavement.

But… no pain. No broken bones. No blood. Just the impact, then the roll, and I was already pushing myself up onto my elbows, dazed but whole.

Dierella stood over me now.

Her skin had gone ashen, almost gray, veins pulsing black under the surface like roots. Her wings—those beautiful, iridescent things—flapped lazily behind her, heavy and slow, feathers edged in something that looked like dried blood. She didn’t look human anymore. She looked like something ancient and wrong wearing a beautiful mask that had started to crack.

“My, my, Evan,” she purred, voice echoing inside my skull. “You are not where you should be right now.”

“Huh?”

“Let’s get you somewhere… pleasurable, shall we?”

“Wait—”

Everything snapped to black.

I opened my eyes inside Ivy’s house.

Delilah knelt naked on the cold concrete floor, forehead pressed to the ground, arms stretched forward in total submission. Next to her, also naked, also kneeling, was Ivy. My friend. My sweet, sarcastic, always-in-control friend. Her shoulders trembled slightly, but she kept her head down, hair falling like a curtain around her face.

╭─═▒▓█⟡☠⟡█▓▒═─╮

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╰─═▒▓█⟡☠⟡█▓▒═─╯

What… was this?

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep