Eros' Fall: Festivities

Fifty years ago, strange gods changed the world. All humans became stronger, and more importantly far more durable.

Injuries almost disappeared overnight, and with them, violence. Instead, through the will of the gods, the only way to subdue opponents became through sex.

Everyone was at least a little blessed, boasting this strange resilience, but some were blessed more than others, finding themselves easily fucking less blessed individuals into submission.

The gods, entertaining themselves with the suddenly very common competitive sex, noted that this change would lead to some unfortunate scenarios - rape, actions going against limits, sexfighting someone with incompatible orientations, and so on.

To prevent this, they altered people's minds, making them never unwilling to have sex, removing any limits they may have had in terms of sexuality, and ensuring everyone could at least somewhat appreciate everyone's bodies, both through changing their preferences and through subtly changing the bodies of those with 'less desirable' body types. This, along with making it so that both parties had to desire pregnancy in order for it to happen, and other changes, helped normalize sexfights.

There are many who curse the gods for these changes, or rather the blatant disrespect of the free will of everyone they suggest, but many do not care too much, or even think of the topic.

After fifty years, and some interventions of the gods, the world has mostly settled, with sexfighting achieving great practical and cultural significance.

It is in a city within this world, Eros' Fall, that the following tales take place.

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'Occasionally, beyond the usual lures of the city, you happen to be present at a special time. One such time is the summer solstice, where the worshippers of the Golden Sun travel to the city to sell their wares and tempt the onlookers into joyful revelry'

- A Tourist's Guide to Eros' Fall

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"Fresh honey! Come get delicious honey!" Someone called out in the crowded square.

Thanks to a generous donation by the Faithful of the Golden Sun, the city had set aside a city square for the celebrations of the summer solstice, as they did every year, since the Faithful donated every year, and the edges of the square were were covered in stalls. The honey was one of the least offensive things on sale.

"Fresh milk, straight from the source! Buy your fresh milk here!" Another seller, a busty and tall cowgirl, demanded, suggestively groping her chest to the amusement of the line in front of her stall.

Deeper in the square, the priestesses were setting up the first of the many games that would take place over the holiday, the breast battles: a collection of various silly competitions involving breasts.

Having learned in the years they organized the event, the priestesses had made two areas: one for serious competition to find out who has the best breasts, and one for those who didn't dare attempt that.

At least, that was the official stance. The real reason was to separate the house wives who based their self image on having the best pair of tits in their neighbourhood, who would be fighting with gritted teeth to prove they are the best, from the younger and/or more laid back women who understood that the point was, first and foremost, fun.

And so, while the priestesses who had drawn the short straws handled the catty and bitchy ladies, the junior priestesses and other women attending the festival were having their fun competing in a variety of contests.

One pair was trying titjousting, an activity only made safe by the blessings upon everyone - the two women would run at each other, full speed, and then impact chest first.

The one to topple the other to the ground won. If the impact sent them both back, referred to as a 'bounce', a referee would mark where they impacted and measure how far from that point both were.

The pair chuckled as they 'greeted' each other by bumping their chests together (the priestesses often added these kinds of silly stipulations to highlight for the more competitive folk that this was for fun), and then walked off to their starting points.

The crowd considered them. One was athletic, with a slight tan and muscled arms, legs, and stomach, and a smaller but firmer pair, while the other was thick and jiggly, with a larger but softer chest. The overall conclusion among the crowd was that either the muscular girl would bowl the other over due to being faster when they impact, or the soft girl would bounce the muscular girl further away.

The two women took off, and true to the predictions, the muscular girl sent the softer girl sprawling and landed on top of her.

As the two laid there, faces barely an inch away from each other, with the defeated girl blushing deeply, the muscularady smirked, kisses her on the lips, and then got up and scooped her up into a princess carry to free the track for the next duel.

Elsewhere, two busty women were standing still as the priestesses prepared them for their next match by painting their breasts with a harmless body paint, designed to be completely safe and wear off on its own even if it got into cuts or if they swallowed some, made with the help of their blessings.

Once the paint was applied, each woman getting a different colour, one red and one blue, a large piece of paper was brought out and set onto a table.

Then, the woman painted red leaned forward, using her hands to smush her breasts against the paper as much as she could without moving them around. The onlookers cheered and wolf whistled as they saw her supple chest squished against the table, but soon enough, she withdrew, and the priestesses showed off the print her bossom left on the paper to cheers from the audience.

The woman grinned and leered at her opponent, pushing up her painted chest, but her opponent seemed not impressed by the display.

Then the other woman, the one with breasts painted blue, stepped up, and placed her breasts onto the red print, also receiving cheers and wolf whistles.

When the print was held up, most of it was purple, but there was some blue and red at the edges.

After some more parading it and cheering, the priestesses gave permission for the real contest to begin.

A 'fertility totem', which was clearly a massive wooden dildo, was brought out, and the two women set up wrapping their tits around it and letting their nipples touch in line with the center of the pole as the starting position.

Then the command to start was given, and the two girls pressed their breasts against the dildo, both seeking to cover it with their tits and push away the breasts of their rival.

The rules were simple - the dildo was enchanted, and could detect which paint was touching it, and was counting the time and area covered by each colour.

The contestants only had the colour on their breasts, and had a different coating that didn't rub off applied, and we're not allowed to grab the dildo with their hands, but everything else was fair game.

The result was both women squishing their chest around the pole and pushing it against their rival's. At the start, it was just a contest of firmness and power as they pushed and shoved, their breasts rubbing, pushing, and squishing against each other.

Later, however, both women began to employ some more unconventional tactics.

The red painted woman formed her hands into a wedge, just barely not touching the dildo and making a gap into which she thrust her chest, wrapping it around the dildo and squeezing it with her hands to press it harder against it.

Her opponent tried to take her chest head on and push it off the dildo, but, squished and thus firmer as it was, she failed. So instead, the blue painted woman lifted her tits, temporarily surrendering the dildo to her opponent, and then made a wedge from above, using gravity and the weight of her massive titties to her advantage to push the red painted woman's breasts apart and away from the dildo and clear the way for the blue painted woman's chest.

The red painted woman then grabbed the blue painted woman's chest and pulled it away from the dildo while thrusting her own chest into the newly formed gap, gently squeezing the blue painted woman's tits as she did so.

The blue painted woman returned the favour, and neither had their breasts on the dildo.

At first, they tried to use their hands to distract their rival enough to free their own breasts while their opponent was still distracted, squeezing and fondling and massaging each other's tits.

But then the blue painted woman took her rival's red painted chest and pulled her nipples to her mouth, sucking on them.

This served to distract her, and also allowed her to only hold her rival's tits with one hand while the other frees her own breasts and allowed them to sink around the dildo again.

As this happened, the red painted woman was rendered helpless as the blue painted woman took advantage of her distraction and turned her hands against her tits, groping her as she sucked on her nipples.

This proved to be the red painted woman's downfall, as she was too distracted to contest the dildo, and in the end could do nothing but moan as her breasts were assaulted.

When the time ran out, the dildo shined bright blue.

Grinning as she won, the blue painted woman turned to a priestess, who obligingly put another coating of the paint used in the paper print part of their battle on her breasts.

Then, she bearhugged her opponent, squeezing their chests together and making her breasts turn purple instead of red.

Once she was satisfied, she pulled her rival's head between her tits.

She wiggled her breasts as she held her there, giggling as she smothered, aroused, humiliated, and marked her opponent, who she was best friends turned to rivals with benefits with.

After two minutes she let her out as the red painted woman emerged, panting, and sporting a bright blue face due to the paint, showing off her defeat for all to see.

A bit to the side, another pair of busty girls were putting on loose blouses which were sewn normally except for enormous cleavage and a single button allowing the blouse to close the cleavage.

Special design and some blessing related tricks allowed the blouses to shrink, and thus grow tighter, without getting any more structurally durable.

Once the two women had the blouses put on, they stood in front of each other, and a priestess stood behind each of them, tightening the blouses.

The crowd watched, enraptured, as the blouses, first very loose and only revealing vague yet enticing shapes, grew tighter and tighter, the breasts behind them growing more and more well defined, until at the midpoint between the button and the start of the cleavage pulled back a bit to both sides, revealing a small patch of smooth skin and a deep valley, while the blouse almost perfectly hugged the breasts, with the nipples clearly poking into the fabric.

The buttons held, but barely.

And so the women took deep breaths, and puffed up their chests in an effort to add just that tiny bit of difference to the pressure on the button.

Eventually, one of the blouses snapped, the button flying off, narrowly missing the other woman, and flying into the crowd where someone snatched up and pocketed it.

As the blouse snapped, the massive breasts that made it snap spilled out, to the cheers of everyone around.

The other woman's blouse faltered soon after, her breasts likewise spilling out, and the button flying straight against the winner's chest, making it jiggle with the impact and bouncing off further, landing in the crowd away from the immediate audience, and in someone's soup if the cursing was any indication.

Another event in the breast gauntlet was the tug of war. Like all the other events, two busty young ladies were preparing to begin their match (the flatter women and the men took the time to admire the chests on display as they waited, for they knew that later in the day, it would be their turn).

Stripped to their blouses, the two women accepted a towel and stuffed its ends into their cleavage, using their elbows and arms to push their breasts together as they were not allowed to use their hands, standing equal distance from a line between them. Then, as the priestess overseeing their match gave the command, they started to pull away.

The win condition was for a person to get a foot over the line, or for them to stop touching the towel or touch it with something other than their breasts.

The girls were very evenly matched, their holds on the towel enduring even both girls tugging simultaneously, so things came down to an actual tug of war, both women constantly squeezing their breasts as they tried to pull their opponent over the line.

Eventually, with much huffing and puffing and squishing of sweaty and heaving chests, one of the girls went over the line, much to her dismay, only for a mischievous priestess to trip her the moment her loss was confirmed, sending her sprawling chest first onto her opponent to the cheers of the crowd.

The last game was 'the battle of the busty barkeeps'. A pair of women was preparing for it, but unlike the other matches, this one pit a cocky and busty young lady against an older woman who's chest was noticeably smaller than her opponent's, but who was just as confident.

The rules were simple: an array of chairs and tables were arranged into an imitation of a bar. The playing area was a rectangle, and the girls got trays with wooden tankards filled with water which they were supposed to deliver to the opposite corner of the field. The one who spilled the least won.

They were allowed, and encouraged, to make their rival spill their water, but we're only allowed to use their breasts and their butts to interfere with the other person.

With the rules explained, the match began.

The busty girl came in swinging, spilling a little water in order to swing herself around and give her breasts momentum which she tried to use to slam into her opponent and throw her off balance.

However, the older woman simply dodged out of the way, her tankards staying perfectly level as she did so, not a single drop spilling, while the busty girl stumbled and spilled more of her water.

Annoyed, the busty girl went for another swipe. This time, however, the older woman thrust her meager chest forward, so that her nipples met the voluptuous girl's nipples head on.

The woman grit her teeth and shivered from the jolt of pleasure the impact sent through her as she stumbled backwards, but the busty girl did not get a chance to brace and prepare herself for it, leaving her moaning and stumbling, her knees weak.

Before she could recover, the older woman went low, and thrust her butt against the busty girl's knee, sending her off balance and toppling to the ground.

Then, the older woman simply walked to the corner she was meant to deliver her water to, winning the game.

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'Another major celebration in Eros' Fall is the Carnival of Change. It's date changes every year, as does the program, but one thing remains, perhaps ironically, constant - the demand for change.'

- A Tourist's Guide to Eros' Fall

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The streets rang with the sound of gongs as the main procession of the Carnival of Change made its way through the streets.

Many danced within it, their outfits bound only by one rule - they must be something they have never worn before, the more different from their usual attirey the better.

Similarly, their dance must have been one they only learned in the month leading up to the carnival.

Popular stores offered discounts to new customers, confident it would let their popularity surge, and customers sought change in everything, as the Carnival of Change demanded.

Other stores took the opportunity to bring out and advertise their poorly selling products, offloading them onto those who had never tried them (and for good reason) and were in a search for new experiences.

The changes could be small - those present merely to observe the festivities wore their clothing a shade lighter or darker than usual, or perhaps put on a hairpin, and still ate dishes similar to what they usually did, trading spaghetti for macaroni, or one flavor of cake for another.

They could also be large, however: nobles wearing rags and beggars wearing suits and gowns, lended for the day by the afromentioned nobles, craftsmen attempting different trades at their friends' workstations, cooks trying recipes they never even heard of before brought along by travelers.

And behind closed doors, even more changes took place.

Several brothels offered strange and unusual kinks in their repertoire of services, and customers paid to experience them, usually shrugging and finding them to not be to their tastes, but occasionally finding themselves enamored with what they found.

And in people's homes, or even in the streets, couples tried new positions, new power dynamics, or even traded partners for the evening.

In a mansion, far above the clamour of the streets, a noble heir entered his bedroom, where his favorite concubine already sat, prepared for him.

Usually, he was the type to take without asking, and his parents made sure to only arrange for those who appreciated that in a man as his concubines, but today, on the Carnival of Change, he would be serving his fucktoy instead.

"Oh, master, please be gentle with me." The concubine said with a shy smile, even as her soft and full body was easily sewn through her see through dress.

Their usual dynamic was her giving token protest to his rough treatment of her along with proclamations that he will 'nevee break her', as a result of a mix of genuine shyness and delighting in having things she secretly wants done to her 'against her will', as well as reading many erotic novels with heroines facing bad ends.

But, so far unbeknownst to her, for she didn't celebrate the festival and thus didn't realise its significance to their encounter, today would be different.

"As you wish, my dear lady." He said, smiling as gently as he could manage even as he imagined making her beg this time, breaking her self imposed mask of denial, and approached her, taking her hand and kissing it. "I will be as gentle as you want."

The combination of the noble treatment and the absence of his usual forceful approach seemed to stun her as she opened and closed her mouth in confusion.

He suppressed his desire to just claim her then and there, and instead kept smiling as he asked her, "Would the lady like anything else from me?"

She eyed him suspiciously. "What are you playing at?" Her words were tinged with sexual frustration and suspicion. "You aren't like this usually."

"It is the Carnival of Change, lady." He explained. "So, to honour their demand for change, I will not do anything unless you ask for it, so that you can be in control today. That can mean having me serve you to your will, or having me helpless under your control. Whatever you want, for all of today."

She froze, her mouth opening and closing. "H-huh?" Was all she could say as she tried to wrap her head around his declaration. "Y-you can't be serious."

"I am completely serious." He insisted, though he couldn't help but tease her a bit, enjoying her confusion. "If you wish me to, for example, leave you alone all day, and simply sit in a corner while you relax, all you need to do is command me."

This, he knew, would put her on the spot. She loved pretending she wanted just that, that she was a pure innocent maiden that was not enjoying what was happening at all. And if it was a normal day, she would order him to do just that, knowing he would refuse, or just wait for her to 'let her guard down'.

But while she may not have realised at first it was the Carnival of Change, she had heard of it, and she also knew him well enough to realise he was probably serious about this. Making that demand now could very well mean that she would have wasted a whole day with him - a rare treat, given his number of concubines - on nothing but pretending to be pure as she always did. She would either have to admit to him that she wanted him to ravage her - and perish that thought - or tease and arouse him until he gave up on his idea of not taking her -

"Well?" He asked, his smile slowly turning into a smirk, and his voice disrupting her introspection. "What will you command me to do?"

In a panic to say something, she harrumphed. "I know you want this body of mine, so as the kind lady I am, I will allow you to massage my chest." It was only after she spoke that she realised that this would probably be more arousing to her than him, and would not be at all useful for her goal to make his resolve break before hers did.

He considered for a moment asking if that was a command or just an offer, but decided to take mercy on her.

Instead, he slowly removed her transparent robes, biting his lips as he beheld her chest, modest in comparison to some of his other concubines, and started to feel it up with a tenderness she had never felt from him before.

She shivered as he first touched her, her body recognising the touch of the man who brought her to climax despite her trying her hardest to maintain her dignity by not cumming, and it didn't take long of his dextrous fingers rubbing her chest to make her moan and bite her own lips.

When he felt she might be ready to move on somewhere else, he smiled at her again, his face right next to hers. "Do you have anything else you might wish me to do, or do to me?"

In place of answering, she shoved him over and sat down, placing her soft and bubbly butt on his face. "No, this is fine." She insisted, desperate to regain the momentum she lost, entranced as she was by his touch, and to get started on breaking his resolve.

And so, given his resolution to only do as she asks, he did not grope her thighs, or lap away at her snatch, or anything else. The only thing he couldn't stop was his breath tickling her bottom lips.

She crossed her arms, and took a book from the bedstand to pretend to not care about the man who made her cum so hard she blacked out from the pleasure just a few days ago. Unfortunately for her, it was an erotic book, and the explicit images were not making it easier on her self control to not make further demands of him.

It did, however, give her some ideas for what to demand and what to do.

"You know what? Stay there. If you really insist on not doing anything without my permission, then I shall take revenge for all those times you claimed my body for yourself!" She declared, as haughtily as she could, and then climbed off of his face. Instead, she put her pussy on his cock, rubbing it back and forth, and pressed her chest onto his face.

He looked up at her as he found his face full of small titties, only to find her glaring down at him. "You're trying to corrupt me and make me command you to do something erotic, aren't you? And pretending you are some sort of saint who wouldn't dare touch me without permission in the mean time! Well I won't let you. I'll show you that I am just as pure as I seem, and make you reveal your wicked nature!" She declared haughtily.

He noted the inconsistencies in her phrasing of it, especially the leap of logic to what he assumed this would mean, based on her actions, but since it was a different kind of contest than they usually had (where he would try to make her admit what a whore she was with pure pleasure, and she would try to keep up her pure mask and pretend she didn't like the treatment), he didn't mind much.

Instead of replying, he returned to fulfilling her previous command, and once more started to massage her titties, though it was a bit more awkward with them in his face.

Realising that she had ordered him to do that earlier, she grit her teeth and ground her bottom lips and butt against his cock, not willing to admit the effect he was having on her by ordering him to stop.

Noting that his shaft was growing more and more erect as she continued made her feel much better about her own chances, despite the heat in her loins and face and her nipples stiffening under his fingers.

She continued rubbing herself against him, now more confident in her chances, until he subtly started to rub his cock back against her, and managed to move it so that his tip gently poked her clitoris.

She yelped, then panicked and got off of him, only realising later how horny and afraid that made her look when he gave her a smug grin.

"S-shut up!" She said to the grinning but silent noble. "You really look like you need some release, so I will help you with that. Don't move a muscle and just let me jerk you off."

He shrugged and laid down again. "As the lady wishes." He said, even as he was trying to figure out how to tease her now that she explicitly told him not to do anything.

And so, as he struggled to figure something out, she sat on his legs and started to jerk him off.

As he twitched and throbbed, however, she realised she had a different problem - she shouldn't make him cum. A climax would be a release, and if she made him cum too much, she could exhaust him, both of which would make him less likely to go back on his word and ravage her.

She knew of edging, but had no experience with it, and did not trust herself to pull off that balancing act.

As she slowed down her handjob and considered this issue, he came to his own idea.

"Please, lady." He pleaded. "Could I massage your back, to help you relax?"

She flinched. Hearing him beg was new, and, she found, incredibly hot, especially after all that time he spent in control usually, trying to make her beg.

Moreso, she was already very horny and tense, and while she knew it was a bad idea to allow this, she also really, really wanted to feel his manly touch again.

Before she could gather the resolve to refuse, he added to his request, breaking her resolve utterly.

"I want to massage and kiss you. I could run my hands across your back and kiss you on the lips."

Kiss her. He wanted to kiss her. Something she had always yearned for, yet could never bring herself to ask for, considering her mask of a pure and innocent lady.

Head spinning, she found the words slipping past her lips before she could stop them. "Y-yes. You may."

Instead of a cocky grin at his victory like she expected, he just smiled as he rose and gently hugged her, chastely pressing his lips against hers.

And then pulled away.

It made her want to scream, to pull him back in - but that was exactly what he wanted, surely.

And yet, after that taste, waiting just long enough for her to grow a little frustrated it was so short, he leaned in again, his mouth pressed against hers, his tongue prying her lips open in a return to his usual fierce demeanor.

His hands caressed her back, massaging it and working out knots of tension as promised, but then one of them slid further down, and cupped her butt before squeezing. Hard.

The sudden stimulus made her moan into the kiss.

And then he stopped again, withdrawing his mouth and returning to chaste kisses, and his hand returning to massaging her lower back, staying just above but still tantalisingly close to her buttocks.

"I have overstepped my bounds, lady. Can you forgive me?" He murmured into her ear, and though she couldn't see his face as her breath hitched when the murmur reached her ear, she was sure he grinning. Taunting her.

After all, she wanted him to continue right where he left off. And all she had to do was ask. Ask, and admit defeat, let him have the satisfaction of knowing he got her to admit out loud that she really was no pure maiden. Admit defeat for just a kiss and some light groping, where no amount of mind-blowing sex over years could make her do so.

It was unacceptable, and yet so, so tempting. And that temptation made her hornier, which made it even more tempting, and - she shook her head and cut the thought off.

He 'accidentally' exhaled onto her ear, and sent her right back onto that mental spiral of shame and arousal.

Panicking again, and getting a bit annoyed with how well he was doing, she once more shoved him down.

"No. In fact, I will have to punish you." She said before her brain caught up to her mouth.

But then she realised that this might not be such a bad idea after all - besides that earlier handjob and smothering, she was never on top before. He was bound to find it arousing, surely.

And he did. Her petite body straddling his stomach as she took control of the situation left his stomach fluttering, and caught him off guard enough to buy her time to keep going.

She started speaking again, preparing herself for what she was about to do, and convincing herself her excuse was good enough.

"A-and since you need to be punished, I will have to take control. I-I am not doing this because I want to, I am doing it because someone needs to put you in your place."

And with those words, she slowly slid her snatch over his tip, letting it push her bottom lips apart and pierce into her.

Paradoxically, after years of him taking her seemingly without regard for her, having his cock inside her did not arouse her nearly as much as his earlier teasing.

Even as she started to experimentally grind her butt against his cock, she still didn't feel that much in terms of pleasure.

Sitting on top of him, however, riding him, having his cock inside her on her own terms, did. Luckily for her, judging by his expression, being under her and having to pretend to be helpless, unable to shove her down and turn the tables or even lift her by the hips and thrust unless she commanded him, aroused him more than the feelings of power aroused her.

He bit his lip as she slowly ground against him, but he did still have an avenue of counterattack from before.

His fingers traced down her back again, this time not massaging, but trailing along her spine, his fingertips ghosting over and sending shivers through her body.

And then he reached down to her butt, and gave it another squeeze.

Overwhelmed by it all, her hips bucked, and the movement made her gasp.

The hint of her riding him that it presented, however, was tantalizing in both of their minds. It was something truly new, this idea of her turning the tables on him.

Both of them froze, but it was he who spoke first.

"Maybe... Maybe we could celebrate change a little more." He offered. "Maybe, to truly try something new, you can stay on top, and be the one to claim me this time?"

His words, and more so the plausible deniability of 'he requested it, it's not like I wanted to', broke any resistance she might have had to the idea.

"Y-yes. If you want me to, than I will do this for you." She agreed, and slowly lifted herself, only to find his hands on her hips pulling her down again pushing his member deeper into her.

"Of course," he grinned, his pride as a noble demanding him to have the final word, "I will show you how to do that. It's not like an innocent maiden like you would know, after all, right?"

She frowned, unable to refute the insult of incompetence without admitting impurity.

"So," he continued, "I'll show you how to do it. I'd say that sounds good, no?"

This too was calculated, an attempt to goad her into making her act on her own, to refuse the option to pretend to be innocent.

She hadn't noticed, and after all the teasing, her arousal and annoyance were great enough for her to decide to put him in his place, at least a little bit, playing right into his hands.

And so instead of letting him guide her, she put her mostly theoretical knowledge of dominating a man to use.

She wrenched his hands away from her thighs, and instead lifted her body up from his crotch until his shaft was only tip deep inside, before dropping it down again.

As she repeated the movement, she marveled at how it felt similar to when he pinned her down and fucked her hard, only now she was in control. Moreover, she marveled at just how incredibly hard it all made him inside her.

And then he leaned forward, sitting up, and pressing himself against her body, his face inches away from hers.

She startled, almost falling back, only for him to hug her and pull her back in. "Please, dear lady. Let me at least make sure you enjoy this too?"

The heady rush of control, and the intimacy of his hug left her mind blank. Before she could think it through better, she nodded. "You may."

Only after did she realise that she just gave him blanket permission to do basically anything he wanted.

Something he quickly put to use as one of his hands trailed to her butt and the other to her chest. At the same time, he kissed her again, going back to his teasing, chaste kisses, adding pressing the tip of his tongue against her lips, as if trying to push past them, only to retreat.

And then, after copping a feel of both tits and ass, he leaned back down, placing his hands on her hips and smiling up at her. "Come on. You were going to claim me, no?"

Biting her lip, she nodded, once more rising up and down on his shaft, letting his hands squeeze her thighs and help her establish a rhythm without tiring herself put.

And then, once he got her used to being in control, he started to jackhammer up into her.

She gasped, then moaned as he thrust up and slammed her body down at the same time, pushing deep into her.

And then again and again, as the illusion of being in control evaporated, giving way to the familiar thrill of being claimed.

And then, barely a dozen thrusts in, he stopped, his hands going limp and his body relaxing (except for his cock. That part of him stayed as hard as ever).

And she knew she lost. Because she knew how dedicated he could be to his games - after all, he had planted those seeds of her domination as a trap, all for that moment.

She knew that unless she asked, he would not do it again that day.

And she wanted more. The feeling of being claimed while still in top was something new entirely, with layers of humiliation and defeat added to the usual thrill of being conquered.

And then he struck the final nail in the coffin. "I won't make you beg." He said gently. "All you need to do is ask. Or even just say yes. I can make the offer for you."

In that moment, she could almost believe he cared more for what she wanted than getting to win their little game.

But she couldn't take that offer, for what she wanted was too specific to expect him to offer it.

And so she swallowed her pride, a tear forming in her eye from shame, only to be wiped by his finger as he looked on in concern.

She could tell he was about to ask if she was okay, so she quickly spoke before he could.

"Please. But... Maybe... Could wd do it like just now? Where I am 'in control', on top, and then you claim me anyway while I stay on top?" She turned away to hide how red her face went at the admission.

He turned her back to him, the bastard, and then wiped away another tear, one she hadn't even noticed she shed.

"Of course. And you can ask for it whenever you want.

"And you can ask for anything else, too. Breaking that innocent facade was about 'defeating' you, yes, I can't deny that. But I also wanted to make you comfortable asking for things you want me to do."

Her eyes opened wide at his words and the care they suggested.

He smiled gently, and then in contrast to his smile gave another brutal thrust into her from below, sending her reeling with a yelp.

"So if you want me to pin you down and take you without regard for your words, just tell me. If you want to genuinely be on top and on control for some time, with me letting you before once again claiming you and showing you your place as 'punishment' for your daring, just ask. And if you want us to 'battle' in a seduction competition and lose horribly as I make you imagine all sorts of things, just ask. Today, and whenever else you want."

Her head spun, with affection, with the ideas he just planted there which she was certain she would be trying out that day, and with the knowledge that she was completely and thoroughly defeated. She knew that any attempts on her part to pretend to be an innocent maiden would fall short in the face of the options he gave her, and she shuddered as she realised that the idea of trying and failing to keep that pretense aroused her more than the idea of the facade enduring an encounter.

As her head spun, he leaned up again to hold her steady, and she felt the beating of his heart against her chest, it's calm rhythm steadying her.

After taking some deep breaths, she finally calmed down enough to speak.

"Y-yeah. Right now, I want to try to be on top, only to be put in my place." She reiterated her earlier request.

He nodded, returned to lying down, and let her ride him, biting his lip as she did.

Before making her scream and arch back in pleasure with a single thrust, only for it to be followed by many, many more, as he conquered her and put her in her place again and again throughout the day and night.