Chapter 128: Chapter 128 – Going Mad in the Cycle

’Alright then,’ I decide, and push forward without restraint. In one hard, final thrust, I tear through the sacred maidenhood the Sacred Healer had guarded for forty-three years.

“NGHAAAAA—!!!”

Her choked scream exploded in the room, hoarse and full of agony.

It felt… incredible. So incredibly tight. I could feel that thin membrane tear beneath my pressure, giving way to my much larger cock, then the walls of her virgin pussy clamped around me in desperation, as if trying to expel this uninvited invader.

But I kept pushing, driving deeper, piercing every untouched fold, until the base of my shaft pressed against her now-gaping lips. Her deep womb shuddered, receiving the impact of my cockhead. Charlotte’s entire body arched like a bow, the ropes creaking under the tension.

She was fully awake now.

Her gaze, obscured by the black blindfold, darted wildly, trying to comprehend this impossible reality. Her body trembled violently, a mix of shock, piercing pain, and total confusion. She struggled, but the [Dragonroot Rope] only tightened its grip, rendering her helpless.

She could feel it—a rod of hot, large, alien iron had forced its way inside her, tearing, stretching, filling every dark corner she never imagined could be entered.

“AAA— Who— Who is it?! Stop! This is— AHH!” Her voice broke, hoarse from sleep and screaming. “Get it out! IT HURTS! IT HURTS SO MUCH—!”

Seeing her conscious, I instead smiled in the darkness she couldn’t see. I didn’t answer. Instead, I started to move.

Slowly. I pulled my hips almost all the way out, savoring the sensation of her flesh trying to grip and hold my departure. Then, I pushed back in. Deep. Slow.

“Don’t… don’t move…” she whimpered, tears starting to flow from beneath her blindfold. “It hurts… please… stop…”

But I didn’t care. I maintained the rhythm, each thrust hammering against the entrance of her womb.

Plap… plap…

The wet sounds of our union began to fill the room, accompanied by her incessant moans.

“I’LL KILL YOU! I’M A RANK SS SACRED HEALER! GET OUT OF ME, YOU BAST— AAHHNN!!” The threat transformed into a long scream as I suddenly sped up the tempo, pounding her womb more roughly.

While continuing to pound into her, my hand grabbed her sweat-dampened tank top. With one rough pull, the fabric tore open from neck to stomach, fully revealing her rope-bound breasts swaying wildly with my thrusts. My hand seized one, squeezing it hard, my fingers digging into the soft flesh and twisting her stiff nipple.

“AH! DON’T— THAT—!” she protested, but her body reacted differently.

It felt strange for Charlotte. At first… it was just torturous pain, tearing, and violation. But then, from the depths of that pain, something else emerged. A strange tingling that began to spread from her invaded pussy, rising to her stomach, crawling up her spine.

Every time that large cock rubbed against her inner walls, the friction began to spark small fires. The pain started to blend with a new sensation… a sensation that was foreign, shameful, and made her disgusted with herself.

“You bastard… you fucking bastard…” she cursed between sobs, but her voice had lost its strength.

But her body lied. Her pussy, initially in pain, flooded with fluid. The sounds of our coupling became wetter, louder. The moisture lubricated my movements, making each thrust deeper, easier, and more… stinging.

“No… I can’t…” she whispered with ragged breath as she felt the first wave seize her. Her stomach twitched, her bound legs trembled uncontrollably. “I… I’m not… AAAAAHHHHHH!!!”

Her first orgasm exploded violently, sweeping away all protests and threats. Her cunt pulsed wildly around my cock, squeezing it in a panicked rhythm.

Charlotte was choked by a sensation she completely didn’t understand. She cried harder, ashamed, confused, and swept away.

I didn’t stop. Instead, I used the contractions of her body to move faster. My thrusts were now brutal, merciless. Each push was a claim, an insult, a fulfillment of her revealed hidden fetish.

“Please… enough… I… I already… AHH! AHH! AGAIN?!” The second wave came faster, stronger. She screamed, her head slamming into the pillow. She couldn’t believe it. She was being raped, tied up, and hurt… but her body was responding with repeated peaks of pleasure.

Inside her heart, total chaos. What… what is this? Why… my body…? This is wrong! This is disgusting! But… it feels… Her mind spun between crushing guilt and uncontrollable physical pleasure. Her tears flowed freely, soaking her blindfold. She tried pleading again, her voice now faint and desperate.

“Please… stop… take anything… but stop this… I… I can’t take it…”

I remained silent. My body language was the only answer. One of my hands grabbed her neck, not to choke, but to feel the rapid pulse of her artery. My other fingers slipped into her armpits, a sensitive area recorded as a weak point, and rubbed them. Charlotte screamed again, her body arching, a third orgasm seized her, shorter but still intense.

[Sexual Arousal] notifications kept appearing in my vision, the numbers skyrocketing wildly. But I ignored them. All my focus was on the woman beneath me. On her mature body now completely mine. On every groan, every sob, every wild pulse from the virgin cunt I had turned into a dump for my lust.

I pushed her to the edge of the bed, lifted her hips, and changed the angle of my attack. Every inch, every curve of her body I explored with deliberate roughness.

I was the storm, and she was the tied-up ship that could do nothing but accept each wave that crashed over her, while impossibly finding pleasure amidst that destruction.

“Please… stop… I beg you…” Charlotte whimpered. But moans of pleasure she couldn’t suppress escaped between her sobs. This was her virginity—a treasure she had guarded for forty-three years, something that should have been given with love and reverence. Not like this.

And in the corner of the room, Delilah watched it all with heavy breaths and hands that never stopped moving a dildo between her own thighs, transfixed by the betrayal and corruption she witnessed happening to her best friend.

“My virginity… this… it wasn’t supposed to be like this,” she uttered, her voice broken.

The gentle, loving fantasies from the romance novels of her dreams collided with brutal reality. There was no tenderness, no affection. Only raw conquest. And inside her, something far more fragile than that thin hymen was also shattered.

Charlotte felt it clearly—that final, deep thrust, then the warm gush flooding her womb, still throbbing violently. My fluid filled every corner, overflowing from our wet junction. Her breath hitched.

“No… no… get it out…” she whispered hoarsely, tears still flowing.

I remained utterly silent. My only answer was a final jerk of my hips, ensuring not a single drop was wasted inside her. Then I stayed buried within, enjoying the sensation of her cunt convulsing, milking the last of my seed.

“No… not inside… please,” she whimpered, trying to squirm. But the [Dragonroot Rope] only creaked, tightening the intricate shibari bindings, reminding her of her humiliating, helpless position. Her bound and lifted breasts were crushed by her own body weight, adding to the feeling of constriction and humiliation.

“I… I could get pregnant…”

Her desperate plea was like the wind to my ears. The cursed Libido gnawing at me from within knew no words like “enough” or “mercy.”

I pulled my hard cock out of her overfilled pussy. Our mixed fluids gushed out, soaking the crease of her buttocks and the sheets beneath her. Charlotte gasped in a mix of relief and pain, thinking it was over.

She was wrong.

My hands easily flipped her weak, bound body. She shrieked in surprise as her face met the pillow. Her position was now even more humiliating—knees still bent and raised, her buttocks, reddened from unintentional slaps earlier, displayed high and open.

“No… not from here… not again…” her voice was muffled by the pillow, full of dreadful foreboding.

I ripped the remaining tatters of her white panties. The sound of tearing fabric made her tremble. Then, with one hand pressing on her back to keep her low, I guided my wet, glistening cock to a different target. Not her already full and sore puddy, but the tight hole between her buttocks—a hole completely untouched.

“NO! NOT THERE!” she screamed, genuine panic seizing her. She struggled desperately, but the bindings on her ankles and wrists made her like a pinned butterfly. “That’s dirty! That’s— AAAAAARRRGGHHH!!!”

Her scream pierced the air as my index finger, lubricated by the abundant mixed fluids from her pussy, thrust into her tight anus. A different pain, more piercing and humiliating, shot through her. She bit the pillow, her body rigid.

“Bastard… monster…” she cursed in a raspy voice.

I didn’t stop. I moved that finger, stretching, preparing the way. It felt incredibly narrow, even tighter than her virgin pussy earlier. The sight—my finger going in and out of her reddened ass—made my lust explode again.

Then, I replaced it with the tip of my cock. The pressure there was far greater, more blunt.

“Please… don’t put it in… I beg you…” she whimpered, but it was too late.

With a painful push, I buried myself in the tightness of her anus. A small tear occurred. Charlotte screamed, her bound arms behind her trying to pull away uselessly. She pissed herself in terror and loss of control, warm urine soaking her thighs and the sheets.

Fuck, so tight! Though not as tight as Angeline’s ass.

I started to move. The first movement felt like banging against an iron door. But with each thrust, the path opened a little. The sounds were wet and depraved.

PLAP! PLAP! PLAP!

Each time my hips slammed into her plump buttocks, the loud sound echoed in the room. The white skin of her ass reddened from the impact. I couldn’t help myself—my free hand spanked that ass, leaving clear red marks.

SMACK!

“AAH!”

PLAP! PLAP!

SMACK!

“NNGGH—IT HURTS!”

Every spank was a new ignition point. Strangely, her cries of pain began to change in tone. From pure screams, they blended into long moans. Her body, which initially resisted, began to waver. Each slam into her tight asshole, each spank on her buttocks, triggered strange electric currents that crept through her entire body.

“Ah… ah… no… I’m coming again…” she groaned, her voice full of disbelief and deep shame. Her cunt and asshole being attacked simultaneously made the sensation unbearable. Another orgasm seized her, more torturous because it came from pain and humiliation. Her fluids from the front sprayed, soaking her own thighs.

She felt herself going mad. Raped, humiliated, hurt, but her body was responding with repeated peaks of pleasure. Her mind fogged, filled only by the cycle: pain, shame, wave of pleasure, confusion, pain again. Morals, self-respect, the title of Sacred Healer—all dissolved in this storm of physical sensations.

And me? I was just as insane.

This Libido was like a raging fire, only temporarily quenched by satisfaction, then immediately flaring up bigger. I looked at her—the mighty Rank SS woman, tied up, crying, her ass red from my spanking, her asshole stretched by my cock—and I only wanted more.

I had no intention of stopping. I would keep riding her, switching holes, humiliating her, forcing her to feel pleasure again and again, until the eyes hidden behind that blindfold lost their light, until her voice became only a hoarse gasp, until her bound body could no longer bear the strain and finally passed out.

This was just the beginning for Charlotte.

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