Fellatio Ecstasy: The Werewolf's Deepthroat Submission

The werewolf's mouth was warm. That was because her body temperature ran incredibly high.

Her tongue wrapped around my cock. She closed her eyes as that mysterious taste spread through her mouth.

Then Rasca fell into rapture.

A sensation like electric current racing down her spine. Her tail whipped even more violently. At the same time, she felt her legs go limp.

'I can't stand up.'

If someone grabbed Rasca's arms and forced her to her feet right then, she'd collapse right back down.

Her legs were already locked in that W-sit only a woman could manage. She wouldn't admit it, but it was proof her body had chosen submission.

"Nghh, hnggg...!"

She tried to hold it back with all her might, but moans still leaked past her lips. Rasca's patience hit its breaking point.

Sweat soaked her wrinkled white ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠soles from clenching so hard. Red marks bloomed where she'd gripped her smooth thighs too tightly.

"What're you doing? Just sitting there?"

Asmodeus delivered his cruel verdict. It didn't just strike her weak ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠spot dead-on—it dripped with mockery.

"Should I take back what I said about your head being surprisingly sharp? You've just been clamping down on my dick without moving since earlier."

"Ughp..."

"Well, first time and all, can't be helped. Guess I'll lend a hand this once."

He grabbed her hair. It looked prickly like beast fur from afar, but up close, it was surprisingly soft.

First, Asmodeus yanked her hair to tilt her head up.

"Spit it out."

"Uh?"

"Spit it out nice and easy. Look at those eyes rolling back. You think this is a bone or something? Spit. It. Out."

Considering their power gap, grabbing her hair and pulling would normally be suicide. But the reversal of roles turned the impossible into reality.

Like snatching meat from a dog's jaws, Asmodeus forcibly pried her off my cock.

"Haa..."

"Not a shred of remorse on that face. I didn't let you suck it for your fun."

"I-I just did what you told me! Don't pin this on me!"

"Blaming everyone else even now? You need some real discipline. Let's put you under once today."

He let go of her hair again. A few strands from the superior werewolf bitch ripped free.

"Eek!"

It hit her late: this imp—shorter by a head or two—had ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠dared lay hands on her hair.

Imps ranked just above incubi as Terranium's trash tier. Money-grubbing weaklings.

Yet this imp had gripped hard enough to yank hairs out.

'In reality, the bastard won't even meet my eyes! And he grabs my hair?!'

Asmodeus ignored her fury entirely. No big deal.

Then he seized her hair again, hard, and spoke with cold cruelty.

"Open your mouth."

"Kuh!"

Rasca's face after spitting out the cock was a wreck. Saliva slicked her lips, matting her hair there; tears welled at her eyes.

Asmodeus eyed her coldly and commanded once more.

"Mouth open. Don't make me say it twice."

In the end, Rasca—the mighty chieftain of the werewolf tribe—opened wide.

Her mouth looked too small for her massive frame as it engulfed the long, thick cock.

"Uuu..."

The ears perked ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠atop her head drooped flat. Her eyes twisted in dread. She feared this moment, plain as day.

"Good girl, nice and wide. Gonna use your hair like a handle now. No complaints?"

Her tail swished endlessly in reply. Perfect—green light. Asmodeus clenched her hair and slammed her head down.

"Ughp!"

Her head sank slowly, the long thick cock vanishing toward the depths of her throat.

By the time it was fully sheathed, it pinned her throat tight.

"Hold it ten seconds."

"Gek! Kek kek!"

Ten seconds? She couldn't last one still!

The cock was too massive, sealing her airway. Breath crushed in.

"Kek kek!"

In just ten seconds, Rasca's pale face flushed beet red. Drool gushed; tears streamed.

Facing death, her body thrashed wildly. Legs kicked, tail lashed.

'I could shake this off easy! He's weaker than me!'

But the Lewd Dream's power kept her pinned. Incubi reigned invincible here. Even a puny weakling could crush a tough werewolf.

"Kughp!"

In ten seconds flat, her face drained pale. Time up—but Asmodeus held firm. Shoved deeper, even.

When the hell does it end? Rasca drowned in nameless terror.

"Good job holding. Here's your release."

Squuuueeeelch! He wrenched her head up hard. Freedom at last.

Color crept back. Kicking legs stilled.

"Haa..."

Fresh air rushed her nostrils. Dizziness faded to relief... Heart slowed from its mad pound.

Safe now? Nope. The second she let her guard down, Asmodeus yanked her hair and plunged her down again.

Breathing break? Bare seconds. Sucking time? Way longer.

'No—not like this...'

Her legs spasmed anew.

Was it her imagination, or did those small, fragile fingers pressing her nape feel impossibly strong?

Rasca teetered on blackout's edge. Eyes rolled back slow.

"About to pull... Oh, time's up. Too bad. Fix that attitude next time—or we'll do this again."

Her fading mind etched those words deep. Branded permanent.

Rasca's body plummeted deeper into depravity.

I woke from the dream, essence stuffed to bursting, triggering fresh growth.

A mind-reading upgrade—easy to see the plays. Read her feelings toward me, tailor my moves. Prime for conquest. Smart pick to level it.

'Next up: Marking of submission.'

Guesswork: max out skills to climb ranks. Boosting incubus tier elevates soul quality or whatever. Feels like a game—sequential progression hits right.

'Anyway, time to roll out.'

I hurriedly loaded sandwich fixings onto the cart and hauled ass to the Werewolf District.

"Oh! He's here—the sandwich imp!"

"Orderin' two today!"

"Everyone, chill. Sandwiches for days."

"You say that every time, but they're gone in an hour!"

Huge crowd today. Essence overload had my body in peak form, so I'd prepped extra.

"Whoa, tons of sandwiches today."

"Haha, all thanks to Lady Rasca."

"Boss helped chop ingredients or somethin'?"

"Nah—Lady Rasca's protection let me prep steady."

Truth: her fat essence haul amped my output.

Like they'd ever know. Or would, going forward.

"Who the fuck dares mouth my name so casual?"

"Ah! Lady Rasca. Early today."

"Y-yeah. Early..."

I'd left her memories intact on purpose—she'd recall the whole dream. Though she'd chalk it up to "just a dream."

"Y-yeah... You're here. Doin' alright?"

"Boss, your speech is off."

"Shut it! This is how I talk! Quit yappin' and sell your shit!"

Her eyes flicked to my crotch. Close now.

Rasca's conquest was just around the corner...