NTR: Stealing wives in Another World
Chapter 182: Mercy of a master

Chapter 182: Mercy of a master

Evening light filtered through the stained-glass dome overhead, casting deep violet shadows across the tribunal hall. The golden glow of justice had long since faded—replaced now by the bruised hue of judgment fulfilled. The nobles had been dismissed. The last scroll had been sealed with wax. And the scent of fear, sweat, and submission clung to the stone walls like fog after rain.

Only a few remained now.

Allen sat atop the high dais, one leg lazily draped over the armrest of the tribunal throne. His coat hung open, tunic partially unfastened, revealing the light sheen of exertion on his chest. His posture was relaxed, almost indulgent, but his eyes—sharp and unflinching—never strayed from the trembling woman below him.

Soreya was still bound.

Her arms had been lowered during the recess, but not freed. Her wrists remained shackled behind her back. Her knees were spread wide now, locked into metal braces that kept her lower body exposed, helpless. The collar tugged slightly at her throat every time she moved, and the chain connected to it ran to the base of the tribunal stairs, ensuring she couldn’t crawl far—not that she had the strength left to try.

She knelt on a fur-lined mat now, a mockery of comfort. Every breath she drew was shallow. Her lips were swollen, her jaw sore from hours of silence, her thighs sticky with need and filth.

Allen raised a hand, and the others stilled.

Fina, standing to his right, offered only a small nod before stepping forward and crouching beside Soreya. Her fingers traced lazy lines along the other woman’s inner thigh—absently playing with the shame slick pooling between her legs.

"She’s leaking again," Fina noted casually. "And she still hasn’t been fucked."

Allen didn’t move.

"Is she ready?"

Fina tilted Soreya’s chin upward. "Are you?"

Soreya’s lips parted. Her voice was rough, nearly broken. "I... I don’t know."

Rinni appeared behind her, gripping her bound wrists with one hand and pulling them slightly upward, forcing her chest to jut forward. "That’s the wrong answer."

Soreya cried out softly, her back arching as the position sent another pulse of agony through her exhausted limbs.

Allen stood.

Slow. Silent. Heavy.

He stepped down the tribunal stairs one at a time, boots clicking faintly. When he reached her, he said nothing. Just crouched, level with her face. His hand cupped her cheek—not gently, not cruelly. Just possessively.

"You’ve spent the entire day soaked in your own shame," he murmured. "Knelt where every noble could see what you’ve become. And still you’re unsure?"

"I..." Her throat bobbed. "I’m afraid."

He leaned closer. "Of what?"

"That I’ll... enjoy it."

The silence that followed was electric. Fina’s fingers stopped moving. Rinni went still behind her. Allen stared at her for a long, long moment—and then smiled. Slow. Dark. Certain.

"You will enjoy it."

He stood and undid the belt at his waist. The sound of it slithering free made Soreya flinch. His pants dropped, the heavy weight of his cock springing forth—half-hard already, veined and thick, glistening with anticipation. She gasped at the sight. She’d worshipped it with her mouth. She’d choked on it. But this... this was different. This was her punishment. And her reward.

Allen walked around behind her.

Rinni stepped aside, and Fina reached down to spread Soreya’s trembling thighs wider. The braces locked into place, leaving her dripping cunt fully exposed, lips parted, twitching with need. Fina didn’t speak—just ran a finger slowly up the slit and brought the wetness to Soreya’s lips.

"Taste what you’ve become," she whispered.

Soreya opened her mouth and sucked the finger in without protest. Her eyes closed. Her cheeks flushed.

Allen knelt behind her and positioned himself at her entrance.

One hand gripped her hip. The other slid up her spine, then curled into her hair, yanking her head back so she arched for him. He didn’t whisper sweet nothings. He didn’t ask if she was ready.

He simply thrust.

One brutal, claiming stroke that knocked the air from her lungs.

Soreya screamed—high and raw—not from pain, but from the sudden, undeniable fullness. Her walls clenched around him, her body betrayed her instantly. The sound of their union was wet and loud, echoing through the hall.

Schlk—schlk—schlk—schlk.

Allen set a relentless rhythm. Deep, punishing strokes that made her braces rattle and her moans slur into mindless babble. Her knees scraped against the fur-lined mat, thighs quivering as he fucked her without mercy.

"Count," he growled.

She blinked through tears. "W-What?"

"Each thrust. Count. Loud."

He slammed in again.

"One!" she cried.

Again.

"Two!"

Again. Again. Again.

The count grew faster, her voice hoarse as numbers turned into sobs. By the time she reached thirty, her entire body shook. Her breasts bounced with every impact, sweat and spit dripping from her chin. Her pussy clung to him, sucking him in greedily despite her shame.

She was losing herself.

Rinni leaned in and whispered filth in her ear. Fina reached forward and tugged her nipple sharply. Allen grunted with each thrust, and the sound of his cock hammering into her was obscene—shlk, shlk, shlk, wetter and messier with every second.

At fifty, her voice cracked.

At sixty, she came.

A broken, shuddering orgasm that forced her whole body forward—only stopped by the collar pulling tight on her throat. She let out a long, guttural moan as her juices sprayed down her thighs and onto the mat.

Allen didn’t stop.

He growled something low and cruel, then gripped her hips tighter and slammed into her over and over again, chasing his own release. The impact got harder. Louder. Her body bounced beneath him, limp, surrendered, used.

When he finally came, he shoved deep—balls pressed flush to her ass—and emptied himself into her twitching cunt with a raw, guttural sound. Rope after rope of hot cum spilled inside her, overflowing instantly. The pressure forced some of it out, dribbling down her thighs, staining the mat beneath her.

He stayed there, panting, cock buried deep inside her spent body.

Then he pulled out slowly, deliberately, letting the mess leak from her.

Fina stepped in with a mirror.

She crouched, tilted it just so, and let Soreya see the white mess dripping from her ruined pussy.

"Look at you," she whispered. "Not a queen. Not even a whore. Just his."

Soreya didn’t speak.

She stared.

And then... smiled.

Small. Faint. Broken.

But real.

Allen reached down, curled a hand into her hair again, and tilted her head up to look at him.

"You earned that."

She nodded.

He glanced at Fina. "Clean her. Bind her arms again when you’re done. I want her on the doors first thing tomorrow."

Then he turned and walked away, leaving her kneeling in her own warmth, used, ruined... and finally content.