2-7 Prophet's Visit, Fortune Teller Sion (Sion - Virgin Deflowering Doggy Style Sex♥) (3)
The taste of a virgin pussy is always something special. Even if you spend your days indulging in the finest, most pleasurable cunts imaginable—ones that clench and milk your cock with expert technique the moment you ask—nothing quite compares to breaking in a virgin. At least, not yet. Maybe one day even this will grow stale, but for now, it hasn't.
Haah... haah... ngh...
"Fortune teller Sion, you okay? You don't seem too tense. Your pussy's already nice and soft."
Sion lay prone before me, her mint-green hair splayed out. I'd just finished deflowering her, and my cock was already buried more than halfway inside her.
Haah, haah. Watching her ragged breaths, I thrust my hips forward with a grunt, driving in to the hilt. My cock conquered her depths completely, claiming her pussy for good.
Now, from entrance to cervix, her pussy would forever remember the shape of my cock. From this moment on, it was mine alone—stamped with my seal.
I moved leisurely inside her, stirring, prodding, grinding, savoring her one-of-a-kind virgin tightness. It was exquisite, as always. Every tug on the leash in my hand made her choke out a "khek-khek," her walls clamping down harder in response. Playing that exquisite rhythm of tension and release, I tasted every inch of her pussy. Relished it.
Finally, I flooded her with my thick seed, giving her her first creampie. No contraception, of course—if she got knocked up right away... well, I'd just raise the kid properly.
......
"Then... haah... I'll deliver the prophecy."
After our sticky, intense fuck and a brief rest, I immediately pressed Sion for it. True to her word, she was giving me a free reading. Without even wiping the thick cum dripping from her face and thighs, she pulled out her crystal orb.
"The stars, mana, and our god proclaim: Seeds of Ruin shall soon appear in this city."
The orb glowed faintly before dimming. Sion stared blankly into space, murmuring, then her eyes refocused on me.
Her words carried a heavy, viscous aura—like the air itself had thickened. Just moments ago, even when we'd first met at her doorstep, she'd seemed like a bit of an airhead. But now, even I—whose emotions ran as dry as a desert wasteland—felt an overwhelming pressure that nearly made me bow my head.
Amazed at my own reaction, I waited for more.
"......"
"......"
"......"
"......?"
Minutes passed with no continuation. I frowned.
"Um, Sion?"
"Yes, Gaon."
"And...?"
Still wrapped in solemn dignity, she smiled maturely.
"That's it. Our god's prophecy ends here."
"...Is this because it's free?"
"No. Whether you paid, persuaded me, or kidnapped and threatened me, this is all I'd have said. Nothing else was revealed."
She puffed out her chest proudly. The mystical air was gone; now she beamed like, Pretty impressive, right? I wanted to smack her, but violence is wrong—so I pinched her nipple instead.
She instantly reverted to her ditzy, perfect expression.
"What the fuck? You ask for money and this is all I get? You think I'm a sucker?"
"Ah, aahhh...! B-but I don't know what the prophecy will be in advance...! It changes every time! S-sorry, please don't twist my nipples like that, so rough...! Hiiik...! My nipples are sensitive♡... I'm cumming from my nipples...!"
I tormented her with incubus skills, but she didn't seem to be lying. It was absurd, but not useless. Seeds of Ruin—I'd heard that term back in Stonevic. The cultists who'd turned it into chaos soup had been aiming to summon one.
So... cultists are here too.
The massive theocracy, Holy Light Kingdom Berea. The goddess's light shines brightest in its capital, yet cultists lurk. In Stonevic, they'd kidnapped people, incited riots, sown disorder until the city nearly collapsed. Something similar might happen here. We had more fighters than in Stonevic, plus saintesses, so maybe not as dire... but...
I don't know how strong a Seed is. Never saw one even in my last playthrough...
Even as I pondered, I channeled incubus energy into my fingers, rubbing and tweaking her nipples relentlessly. She came in under five minutes. Her undeveloped body climaxed so easily from nipples alone—incubus powers were convenient.
Still, for a pet bitch I'd claimed, the intel was skimpy. But keeping her around might yield more prophecies someday.
Next one better be detailed and useful.
Otherwise, she was just a pretty fucktoy onahole.
"Gaon. What I'm about to say isn't from our god—it's my personal prophecy. May I?"
"...?"
"If you wish to stop the Seeds of Ruin's summoning, what you're doing now is correct."
Without waiting, she continued.
"You patrol the streets nightly with a saintess. Hunting the murderer."
"Not every night."
"...The killer terrorizing the capital lately—the key to stopping the Seeds of Ruin lies in finding them."
However, she added,
"Continue investigating like this, and the saintess you're searching with will die."
* * *
"What the hell does that mean?!"
Second Saintess Sharon bellowed at the holy knight before her, fiery temper blazing. She grabbed his shoulders, shaking him wildly. "Impossible!"
The poor knight, merely relaying orders from above, didn't dare touch her back. He just dangled limply as she rattled him. Something ominous creaked from his shoulders...
"Pulling me from the night search team?! Ridiculous!"
"B-but... it's the elders' decision..."
"Those damn fossils!"
Sharon couldn't contain her rage. One of her murder hunt squad had been gravely injured—not dead, but lost an arm. Others were hurt too, minor or major.
She'd suspected it wasn't a normal killer from the start. Now, she saw the gravity. A veteran holy knight—not a rookie—had fought alongside comrades and lost, sacrificing an arm.
The culprit wasn't human. No doubt a blessed Hero Unit.
Sharon had requested reinforcements, budget hikes, and aid from other church Hero Units. A mystery donor had helped so far, but scouts weren't enough.
She needed the church's full backing.
The response?
Second Saintess Sharon is to halt search operations and remain at the church for safety.
Absurd. A veteran who could crush lesser blessed had fallen. Her saintess powers were needed more than ever.
"B-but the other requests were approved! Ten times the budget, reinforcements from church-held blessed and veteran knights. The church will also enforce night curfews to keep citizens indoors—"
His words fell on deaf ears. The more she heard, the angrier she got.
Empowering the patrols but sidelining her? Transparent. The elders feared her gaining power. They craved eternal control.
Should I just kill the whole council?
She'd disliked them before, but tolerated it. Now, with citizens dying and veterans mutilated, their power-lust was intolerable. Nauseating.
Her fury and hatred boiled, but she folded it away. Murder wasn't practical—not now. Better things to do than off those vermin.
To overturn them, appeal to the Pope... but she's not easy to meet. And I won't disturb her 'prayers' over this.
Then convince the other saintesses—
"Even appealing to other saintesses or the Pope won't help, Saintess Sharon."
"...What? What do you mean?"
"The elders instructed me to tell you that too."
He glanced nervously.
"First Saintess Saria agreed to this. Even you might struggle to reverse a fellow saintess's endorsement..."
Sharon ground her teeth with a gnash.