Salty Tea I

Chapter 3: Fountain of Corruption

 

 

The campaign to bring an end to the scourge of the local risen has birthed an issue. A visit to the infirmary confirms that the terrible creatures had dealt a blow on the group as countless warriors lay weakened on beds, awaiting the healing attention of Maribelle and Libra. These Risen were not just some pointless punching bags to get a few extra notches in one’s belt. These particular undead were proving incredibly powerful and skilled. The warring party of the Shepards was dwindling in size, anyone not a sturdy powerful warrior trimmed off from the group and now resting their heavy heads on mattresses. The cleric who had been with the last attack was one off the wounded, and Maribelle and Libra would be far too busy tending to the broken to be able to attend the next assault. This left only Lissa as a candidate to accompany the warring group in the conflict.

The protests from Maribelle were loud and protective. “What?! Put darling Lissa back on the frontlines?! She is still recovering from that nasty curse, and you want to test her fortitude by facing down some putrid monstrosities? And what if one of them gets to her and we soon find her on a sickbed again?! She’s still not done resting from the last time!” It took a long while, but eventually she was brought down from boiling to simmering, and Frederick fetched Lissa from her (very locked up) tent.

You could mistake Lissa for a completely different person, as she had let some herself go. She hadn't worn her cleric garb in a while, mostly sticking to flowing pajamas. Her hair was a tad bit sweaty, though nothing a quick dunk in a stream with some products couldn’t fix. She seemed a bit hard to get prolonged focus from, and overall distracted by other matters. But when the call back to war came loud and clear, Lissa snapped back to her usual self, and was adorned in the garb of a war cleric, baring her preferred axe and an arrangement of staves to assist her allies is combat. She wore a quirky smirk and cute perky eyes. Maribelle was convinced of her health, and sought out to honor Lissa’s wishes of being treated a shade less fragile than most vases. With a kiss on the forehead blushing Lissa’s cheeks as red as cherries, she was granted blessings and approved to be sent off to the battle.

The marching towards the combat area was a stern silent march. While normally such frivolous campaigns spawned plenty of light hearted banter and foolery, for once every soul was a quiet one. They’ve seen the wounds, they’ve felt the burning in their gut to return the favor to the foes who had given them such harsh terrors. Horses clapped against the grass, kicking dirt up whenever their speeds fired up. Heavy armor clacked heavily against the bodies of the marching soldiers. Lissa blushed quietly, trying to cover her cheeks and mouth with one hand to hide the flushing feelings that were stuffing her head up.

She had never felt this way during combat for sure. It was for sure unrelated, for Lissa was never turned on by the prospect of fighting some powerful foes who had dealt blows to friend previously, or hell she was never turned on by combat! This was a heat carried over, a burning desire to huddle down on her knees and give in that was brought with her from the pleasures she had back in her own tent. Her thighs ached for the privacy of the tent, her fingers curled with a lingering desire to be wetted with the fluids of her pillage. She gasped aloud, stirring a bit of a worry from those nearby, many still concerned she may not be well enough yet for combat. Lissa puffed her cheeks, and stomped her boots, insisting, “I’m fine, I’m fine! I can handle this, just… You know how I hate all this marching around!”

Combat commenced with the archers spotting moving masses down the hill the company had surmounted. Bellowing out a wreaking war cry, the quickly advancing undead sprawled forward, wielding ancient axes, and twitchingly lifting their shields to block the incoming blow of a curtain of arrows. Gripping their lances and drawing their swords, the front lines advanced, grasping their weapons and clashing them down against the forms of their horrid enemies. Lissa kept to a sideline of the fronts, standing safely away from the immediate combat. She held her axe halfheartedly, and kept her staff nearby in case some damaged ally came for help.

The immediate strategy was prevailing, just as the tactician had intended. The archers were safeguarding either escape route, and the frontlines were pressing forward to push the foes away, creating a safe bubble where Lissa would be able to lie in wait to assist the wounded. Frederick rode bravely back to Lissa, presenting his shoulder wounds to her. The girl had to be drawn away from some distractor that occupied her hands for a short time a ways up her skirt. She insisted it was a snag. She lifted her staff, and healed him just as well as any other time, and his gaping wounds were made no more. He nodded sternly, gave her some brief appraisal on her work getting back onto the field, and rode back into the lines to act out his duties. Lissa was never so thankful for the seclusion.

She turned either way, her required spacing leaving her little privacy to make her damned writhing loins be settled! It felt like a boiling pot, a seething froth of irritating hot stirring. Her loins dotted her thighs with sudden drops of her honey, leaving her inner thighs soaked over the course of the battle. Her certainty it was not sweat was confirmed by her sneaking a lick and blushing her cheeks a thousand shades darker. Her breasts had never been so imbued with tingling, and never before had she even considered such a desire to pinch at her tips, but this was a time for many firsts. For the first time, she considered abandoning the war party for the sake of privacy.

She turned her head either way like a nervous maiden considering entering her first pub. Wide eyed and cutely blushed, she slowly started to step back a bit. Stahl rode up her way, and presented a wound. Lissa was fast to heal him, and haste-fully sent him back, not even considering a momentary chat. She at least had the excuse the war effort needed him, for the battle was only about half won thus far. Lissa apologized under her breath, and escaped from the area to the nearby thicket of trees. It was a tiny island of forested region, but it was enough to grant Lissa some decent privacy. 

Lissa landed on her rear upon the grass of the shrouded area. Gasping with glassy breath, and tearing through her clothes until she was bare, she rose her naked body to stand and regard her form. She felt her fingers slide over her pale thighs, regarding the petite formation of her hips, the slim waist, thin tummy, and nearly flat chest with just enough weight to her breasts for there to be something to jiggle ever so lightly. She never felt such an ego to her form, but now more than ever she felt it entirely necessary to absorb and enjoy the feminine form. Her evaluating digit was already plowing past her folds straight through her light pink folds. She knew containing her moans would be required. Her task was to finish her session, and while riding the few precious seconds of silence, rush back and finish her duties to the army. Excuses though! She needed at least one! Had to think of a good reason wh- Oh gods why does it feel so good? Her head shot blank. Now a single thought that didn’t contribute to her work. She plowed a second finger, even a third. It wasn’t enough though; it was just something about the angle. It got her wetter than ever, it was enough to make her let loose and let a little moans slip out, but it wasn’t enough! Her staff on the other hand…

Lissa burrowed the holy orb at the tip of her staff into the dirt of the ground. She looked either way, her tongue sticking out, her eyes glassy and considering her environment like a foolish horny animal. She gripped the staff, spreading her legs to position herself over it, straddling her loins around it. She felt her lower lips spread around the staff. She thrust up and down against the golden rod, riding it up and down, sanding the surface until she slickened it and settled her nethers at the tip. She blinked, and for one succulent second considered sanity. She thought if this was right, went by the concept she might not be able to handle the intensity that may follow. She thought- She stopped all thought and plowed herself upon it. She never felt anything so incredible. She screamed in spittle spewing pleasure.

She flexes her lithe stomach, and rocks and stirs her hips against the rod that pierced into her. Thighs rode against either side of the rod, keeping herself positioned. Her bare feet touched the ground, her toes curling into the grass. Her knees rode up and down, up and down, riding against the staff with a fast bouncing motion. She stiffed her lips, and jammed shut her eyes. She couldn’t summon any more moans at one point, she couldn’t hold back for much longer. She rode faster and faster, her hips bucking, her knees shooting into the air and crashing her body against it.

This is, she knew it was coming. She grabbed the staff, ripped it from the earth, her legs betraying her by not keeping a good tempo. She threw her back onto the ground, slamming herself with the urgency her loins commanded. She used one hand to slam into her as fast as she could. She couldn’t imagine the speed picking up much more with her current pace. She even considered seeing if the healing orb would fit inside, but she was too thick into it now to dedicate to a new direction. Her free hand gripped at her clit, finding the eager little bud at a new thickness, a new length. Little fella must be more excited than ever. She knew she was. With a sturdy pinch to her clit, and one more thrust worthy of shattering boulders, her body exploded with the worst orgasm to quake her body yet. She collapsed, drooling, and passing out of consciousness for a few more minutes.

She awoke a little later, crawling to her clothing, trying to apply it all back onto her body. Using her staff as a walking cane, albeit an extra slippery one, she walked back to the army, catching a lucky break in that the battle was just ending, and no one ever caught on to Lissa escaping. Save for Frederick, but he was easily seduced to another opinion. Lissa drew a little line on his armored chest, insisting this needn’t be mentioned, and with some luck he complied. Lissa was getting quite skilled at getting away with things with Frederick.

They returned to camp, and Lissa returned to her tent. The army reported mysterious moans kept many a well eared soldier awake. They couldn't pinpoint where it was coming from, but for certain no one blamed innocent Lissa. Though, they were not the only ones unaware of what secrets were emerging, as Lissa herself was not done facing down the path of lusts quite yet.

…

Camp was all the seclusion Lissa needed. All the privacy she could ever desire was the ever growingly complex routine to her now required masturbation habit. Starting out after the incident with her staff, she has been at least sinking her fingers into her at least twice a day. First come morning, and then come night. Though, how deep into the night grew ever more complex, and ever later. She quickly discovered that her moans being too frequently at the same time really helped to alert her camp mates to the events. So in the end, the tactic was to wait until even Panne was at last resting, and then rock her folds as hard as she could. She by now has fashioned broken staves to serve as the perfect makeshift dildos; something about such a holy staff being repurposed for pleasing her taint was an incredible additional kink to her every session.

With her schedule, the only real difficulties that ever truly occurred was the random bursts of intense lust, or something arousing her more than she figures it should. Such as the way Panne stretches, or maybe how Nowi jumps, or just Tharja in general. Perhaps the worst, was the way Maribelle worked her mouth.

That thick set of lips curled and moistened with unnoticed freshening by Maribelle’s stealthy tongue. She was at all times woman like without even a tint of effort that showed. And that for sure brought some tension to her surface. She was repressed, and never truly cut loose to the degree Lissa would adore to see her. Her lips spread open widest either when she yelled, or when appraising some tea. Lissa found plenty of excuses to argue about tea. “No no no! Sweety, honey just does not go with that blend, it completely overshadows the fresh fruit tang to it!” Lissa really liked how her mouth curled with honey, but so few times did honey piss Maribelle off, so Lissa really harped about the one brew Maribelle swore could never work with honey. That brew was quickly becoming a sore spot, so Lissa couldn’t exploit this for long, and certainly it’s not as if she could rub one off right there. This usually just leads to a third session anyways, and she knew this just was not healthy. But, H-o-ney. Honey <3

She jabbed her fingers down through her folds, piercing her lower lips over and over again, her body jerking forward in her sat up position like she was getting punched in the gut. She cooed her lips, and imitated a little moan, “H-o-neeeey!” She giggles in a bubbly potent tincture of her own lust. “Honey honey hooooney!~” She sung her inspired song, curling her fingers tight around her hole, and slurps her drool around in her moaning little mouth. A vital part to every session, was giving her clit the extra attention it was now deserving. Her fingers went to pinch her little clit. Recently the sensitive nub was secreting fluids a tad bit more often than Lissa would consider correct, not that she knew, she never really had a good sex talk to make sure that nub shouldn’t spew.

This time, though, touching her clit SHOT her forth into the bed, the busting force quaking her bed in the wake of her shooting mass out into the bed. She screams, something happening, something awfully awfully insanely sexual. She wiggles in the bed she now lays in, curling her form into the bed like a writhing worm. Her fold inserting fingers were free, and no longer devoted to the work of her feminine folds. This was all clit, it was no more effort than pinching her clit, nothing more than just over working her expanded elongated clit.

She tries sitting up a bit, resuming a former posture, let her head rest from the shock waves, but her fingers were rouge agents. One of them slid a digit down the underside of the bloated nub, and it sent a shotgun blast of the exact same caliber through Lissa, losing her to another mindless minute of rubbing up and down her clit without any intervention on her part. Every blast was another second longer of brain shut downs, each time she came she felt less and less resistant to what was on going.

Her shivering hands that played with her sexes beyond her control like observing another person left her now in a constant coma. So, with plenty of time to spend, and not much that can really boggle the mind without feeling incorrect, she let her thoughts wander to what would satisfy such a horny woman. She closed her innocent eyes, though they would never open innocent again.

She saw herself attending a special session that Maribelle had arranged for her. It was the princess’s birthday, so the proper girl felt it correct to host an incredible party for her most precious love. Laying nude atop the tea table, her curvy form wide and removed of her layers of exquisite clothing, Maribelle spread her moistened thighs, showing her gaping moistened folds for Lissa to behold. She curls her lips into a thick smile, her eyes pierce into Lissa’s mind with slender pupils half hidden hazy behind drooped sly eye lids. Spreading her lips, she speaks in a husky whisper, “Oh my, would you be a dear and relive me of all the tea that’s just slipping between my thighs. Surely Lissa, by now you’ve acquired a taste for my very special brew of tea, no?” Lissa licks her lips, more than pleased to comply. Her imagined self had no such innocence she’d normally associate herself with. She was a horny animal.

Her hazy dream continued on, and she dove at her girly prey, slipping inside and lathering every fold of her nether. She slurped loudly, a hearty guzzle of the slippery beverage that seeped out from her form, having to squeeze out each drop of goodness like a ripe fruit. Lissa shivered every time the larger female she ate from squealed a little unjust moan. She moaned whenever she felt the curled hair maiden’s lips quiver or her thighs squeeze around her head. It was incredible.

Lissa then felt her reasoning grow hazy. Was this a gift, or was she forcing herself on Maribelle, insisting it was her turn to let loose some lusts. Maribelle was no prime in this relationship, her eyes hazy with the lust she had, but her pouting little mouth squirmed. “W-what if someone hears us? Y-you can’t just do this whenever- oh my oh my. M-my goodness you’re so good at this…” Oh yes, to feel her resistance crumble. Lissa took the bliss of the event as fuel and climbed atop her mate. She spread her thighs, revealing her long, blushing di-

Lissa’s eyes opened and she looked down as something hot spat on her stomach molten fluids. Peering down with eyes filled with dread, she witnessed what has occurred. Her clit has spread to five inches, departing from her folds entirely, It was incredible. Lissa gripped tighter around it, only to feel it push back. She watched as the flesh expanded and gorged itself. It fattened thicker and thicker, fighting her palm to loosen more and more. First moments of her gripping was if she were grabbing a stick, and by now it was more the size of a sword handle. The tip of her clit was especially fattening, more and more, a little slit splitting open. And at last, with a proper head, a hole for her spewing juices to make puddles on her stomach, what was unmistakably a penis had sprouted. It was at five inches, but it showed no sign of wanting to stop growing. It had only taken form like a tree sprout, and now it sought to dominate the roof of the forest.

Her tongue spread from her agape mouth, little gasps followed by heavy gasps matching the tempo of a marching horse let loose from her maw. She was lost to her pace, she couldn’t bring herself to care that this was happening to her. She didn’t want to care! She wanted to feel it pulsate, feel all the new veins, all the new nerves, and the new sensation of the way liquids secreted from the curious tip. It was incredible, and every inch it grew earned a stiff chuckle from the lust driven princess.

Her hand started to find it most pleasing to form a sort of pumping motion. Gripping around the circular object, and then just pumping. Letting loose, squeezing the fluids out of it. Her thumb was a curious vessel that could prod at any new nerve she found, it being the least dedicated digit to her pumping voyage. It found the little path between the glans cause secretion to speed, veins to pump, and her thighs to tremble. Her toes curled, a bead of sweat formed on her forehead, and her hand could not be ceased. It rose to the tip, thumb traveling over every contour of the back of the base, sliding over every vein, pinching at the tip. And then it comes thundering down like a stone returns to the earth, falling back down to her loins, and slapping against her skin with a loud thump!

Thump! She screamed as loud as she wanted! Thump! She squirts a thick spray across her stomach, white fluid running down the sides of her pale stomach. She screams. Thump! She moans as loud as she can, and in an impressive eruption, a lustful spray streams out from her dick, spraying her face, the rest of the load falling down the rest of the way over her breasts, across her stomach, and the rest settling at the bottom of the base. She moans in little tired gasps. She shuts her eyes, and brings a finger to her lips, sampling the flavor. She grins.

…

Lissa’s days now consisted of at least three sessions per day. She would awake and service her new addition so she can think clearly enough to get out of bed, the messes never too much of a problem for they were more of a pre-breakfast snack rather than some fluids discarded into bed covers. Breakfast was the usual affair, except if some event occurred that brought a stiffening to the princess’s tights, she would to have to rub it until it popped to get the hard on away, and there was little restraint left in the little blonde’s mind. If there was no place to hide, she would still spew a healthy load and face the consequences later. Mid-day would be the second guaranteed jerking off time. It would either be before they moved camp to the next location, or a little bit after. This is also the time the group would most often go to battle. Lissa was at this point an almost useless healer unit, for she couldn't wield her staff without trembling with dirty thoughts, plaguing her every attempt at healing an ally. She was still quite skilled with an axe, but healing just led to her running off and sneaking a quick rub.

The final session to any day was the late night session. Once she was certain everyone was asleep, when the night was her’s, and she could be as intimate with herself as she pleased, she would drop her skirt, and notice the bulging tent at the front of her tights. Pressing at her leggings, feeling the built up pressure in her stiffening rod. Her lips part and coo, and from then on out the rest of the night is a downward spiral towards her inevitable climax. This session was always her loudest.

Hey days went on more or less exactly to this model, with plenty of impromptu masturbations, and a ludicrous assembly of dirty thoughts forming at just about anything she did. Though, the worst thing for her thoughts was for sure her tea parties with Maribelle. The beautiful blonde with a generous bust would gather a delightful pot of tea. She would pour with precision into a delicate teacup, not a drop straying from a precise little stream. Three little sugar cubes were gathered atop a silver spoon, and lowered into the tea so as to avoid the unnecessary splash that just dropping them in would summon. A careful stir from her slender hands, a nimble rotation of her thin boned wrist, a melodic ding from cleaning her spoon against the rim of the cup. The beautifully maintained maiden then lifts the tea cup that lies atop a fine pink and golden plate, and offers it to Lissa. The whole act, every moment Lissa saw some opportunity to crash all this effort and ram into the girl over her precious table. She wanted to see her break.

This tension topped her efforts one evening. It was a precariously full moon, an omen that many considered the right time for anything to go awry. With about an hour until bed, and stomach cleansed since dinner about two hours ago, Maribelle found this warm summer evening to be the perfect moment for a dash of tea and some carefully selected munchies. Lissa felt her thighs tremble with appreciation for Maribelle. So much about her was always delicate, or precise, or as with the case of this evening, perfectly selected. She wanted to see her tastes stray just a bit, let some filth loose in her brew. Not the muddy sort of filth, Lissa would never accept that sort. No, more like the sweaty moaning filth.

Lissa sat on a fine chair, greetings exchanged minutes ago when the young blonde had entered the tea tent for tonight’s diversion. She sat uneasily in her seat while Maribelle was across the room, attending an iron stove and paying close mind to the kettle which had just achieved a shivering whisper of a steam. Lissa’s nails rode up and down, her fingers arched against the chair. Her boots tapped against the floor, her knees flailing lightly. Her eyes were glued to the girl, watching the way her rear was hidden behind her skirt, like a gift hidden behind a curtain. Her back bent immaculately, her slim fingers lifting the kettle to pour the tea into either cups. She turns her head to Lissa after having lifted a vial of an amber liquid. Her lips perk, and she asks, “Lissa darling, will you be wanting any honey?”

Lissa squirmed, her face went downward, her expression masked by shadows. She spoke, “S-say honey again…”

“I’m sorry I can’t hear you.”

“I-I said, say honey again you bitch.”

“Lissa! Heavens, what one earth has provoked you to use such crude language in-“

“S-Say honey dammit!!!” Lissa sprung forward, topping the table, and making a leap for Maribelle. She gripped at either drill of her hair, and gripped at it like head side reins. The girl gasped, but already she felt her resistance shocked, like a deer in the headlights.

“Lissa? What are you doing to… I don’t know what’s going on…” She closed her eyes, and gulped. Lissa felt no desire to save a thread of her own clothing, the cleric shredding apart her dress and discarding the useless curtain to the side, dropping the caging to her skirt and kicking it to the same side. She was down to her perky chest, her thing stomach shimmering with anticipation sweat, and her leggings, complete with her large bulge. She presses this against the curtained rear, feeling the large mounds hidden behind the extravagant clothing.

“Do I even have to ask what that thing that is touching me is?! Lissa, what did you get such a thing? Have you purchased some lewd toy, or-“

“It grew in~” Lissa purred, her voice still maintained that innocent pitch but found merit in a new husky tone, a seductive innocence that promised all sorts of devious corruption and slurped on the nectar of her own taint every so happily. The contrast was clear and brought shiver’s to the thicker blonde’s body. She felt a rip, which made the more luxurious of the due feel intense stress build up in her form. She wanted to scream that she was ruining her attire as she felt more air slip in past the tear in her clothing, but Lissa brought up her comment before she could muster up some retort. “My goodness, I never got to see your panties before. You have really good taste~” She complimented the incredible undergarments she was graced with sighting. Pink and as frilly as you can imagine, with all sorts of floral arrangements to the flowery bends and curls of the patterns within it. Lissa pinched at either end of the pair, and made a little tear. “Oh my, and I for sure never got to see this~” Lissa peered between the fat cheeks through her underwear, and spotted sensitive little pink pucker.

She never thought these things were supposed to be this colorful, this absolutely perfectly colored, it could glow with that watercolor shade of shimmering pink, palely shaded and absolutely shimmering around that ring. Lissa regarded it with a wet kiss and a prodding of her tongue. This drove Maribelle absolutely nuts. She gripped tightly at the stove, trying to keep her rear to Lissa, but feeling her stomach sink lower to the ground, making the girl have the pose of a hammock.

Lissa licks and lathers, dampening that hole. She feels Maribelle move more and more and more until finally the teasing snaps the girl. She squeals, letting loose her lament, “P-please stop it! J-just fuck me! You’ve made me so it so crudely, but you’re insistency has pushed me too far! Just tear off the rest of my dress, and stuff it in me!” Lissa needed nothing more graceful of an invitation to take that direction. She pried Maribelle from her stove support, landing her body on the table, letting any glasses in the way fall to floor and crack. She rips the rest of her panties off, throwing them to the side. Moist lips lie between fat thighs, perfectly floral with a succulent shade of appetizing pink. Lissa’s tongue was already quite pleased with the events, but her dick was beyond unsatisfied. Beads of pre spread her head’s lips wide, drooling at the sight of such a seductive beauty. Lissa could take it no longer. She had a thirst that must be quenched. She looked over the body of the girl, her head tilted slightly, panting. Her eye color showed through the shadows on her face, her bangs loose and wild.

Lissa grabbed handfuls of thigh, and climbed over mounds and curves. Carefully positioning her own thighs, letting the sensitive tip to her cock press adeptly against the brim of her spread open crevice. With a sharp inhale, she slammed her hips forward, the table shrieking a low creek, jiggling thighs slapping against one another. Their eyes shot wide, and both girls were committed to their sinful pleasures. Oozing drool from her lips, Maribelle’s mind blown from the most sinister pleasures she ever graced her body with, she cooed for “More! Please dear, more!!!” To which end Lissa was more than obliged to provide. Her dick was demonic in size, absolutely a monster, and it secreted sinful flavors and tinctures in unsightly squirts with no rhythm to predict when the next spew of white-transparent fluid would fill the untouched inners of the girl below her. Lissa’s eyes were foggy. This beat masturbating a thousand fold. She sees why she needed three sessions everyday just to function! She was a fountain of sin filled to overflowing, and she needed to let some of her corruption leak out into others from time to time!

Her suspicions were confirmed, for she felt a sprouting nub press against her own shaft between insertions. Maribelle was taking to the corruption at an incredible rate, an absolute fast forward version of Lissa’s. The difference was between watching a tree go, and a highlight reel of a tree growing. Where Lissa took days to be a howling sex fiend, Maribelle was already there. Her eyes were glassy, and seemed to light up whenever they hazily sailed over a breast and caught sight of a dick sliding in and out of her. And now, between her fertile thighs, her once immaculately feminine curves were now tainted by a weed that grew in her garden. Like all weeds should, this drunkenly lustful plant sprouted with incredible speed. It achieved a state of growth that could match Lissa’s own, perhaps go a little ways further. The shade of it was a tad bit darker red than the rest of Maribelle, and it was of decent thickness where as Lissa’s was a thick devastator of a rod. Lissa took satisfaction in the comparison, unable to think of any other way she could have it. As she thrusted, she felt it press against her lower belly, the same place the rashes had first occurred. It felt incredible, ignited the same itchy heat all over again, and Lissa hadn’t a doubt it would be a perfect place to invest the time of her hands.

Applying pressure more hefty than she ever would to her own dick, Lissa rode one hand up and against that cock, using her other hand to maintain a steady balance on the tea table. She jerked up and down, a wonderful motion to make. Just the sensation of that dick in her, the texture to it and how slick it already felt was enough to make Lissa spew another unceremonious load. Lissa was close at this point, the rate she brutally thrusted into the girl below her was staggering. She worked up a sweat, little beads gracefully falling down across her thing stomach, shivering a little liquid bridge over her naval. She couldn't keep herself together much longer, and with the pressure building up right below her head, like a tense belt tight around her cock, she knew she was close. Closer than ever. This wasn't just a climax, it was dropping a load, completely emptying herself, and sealing the deal on tainting the girl below her. With no restraint, an almost animal desire to fill and cum, she spewed every last drop of her girl cum. But not before the thought occurring to her to gift Maribelle with a new concoction.

Without removing her hand from the new formed dick, without ever letting loose the pressure she had applied, Lissa removed herself from the girl below her, and retrieved one of the cups of tea. She put it on Maribelle’s stomach, and carefully positioned herself. A drop of sweat from her dick dropped into the cup, and then a spew of cum entered the glass as well, dropping like a load of pebbles and splattering the beverage across the girl’s stomach. She forced the girl to sample the beverage, the corrupted blonde more than happy to sip it all down. “My, my~ Dare I say it, but this is incredible. A salty tea of your own brew~ “ Lissa grinned, helping Maribelle to finish off her own load, and prepare a tea kettle.

…

As time went on, females of the army were invited back to Maribelle’s tent, as tea parties became very common. No one knew for sure what went on at these, but all the girl’s came back with much less focus. Anna seemed to easing her currency towards special appliances with lewd intentions. Tharja’s hexes seemed to have lost some of their lethal oomph, their sinister energies refocused. Sumia never eyed a Pegasus the same way again. No one ever really said what happened at these parties, but all of them could give away one morsel. They’d never forget the salty tea.