Harem Apocalypse: Every Moan Levels Us Up!

I pushed her down slowly. Her folds parted around me as my cock sank in, inch by inch, stretching her tight heat. She held on tighter, nails digging into my skin.

A shaky, broken breath escaped her, quickly turning into soft, uncontrollable whimpers. When I bottomed out, my balls pressed flush against her dripping pussy lips, every inch buried deep inside her, she cried out. Not a moan. A real, raw, guttural cry.

"Daph." I pressed my forehead to hers, buried to the hit inside her. "You good?"

"I’m good." Her voice trembled. "It’s been years. It’s been four fucking years."

[Charging]

[Note: Each climax will generate two full charges.]

Then we were good.

I gripped her thighs hard and started lifting her up and down my cock slowly, letting her feel every thick inch dragging along her sensitive walls. She moaned low and deep in her throat, her pussy fluttering and squeezing around me as I stretched her full.

The shower water had stopped, but our bodies were still slick. I felt everything—the way her inner walls gripped me, the heat of her skin against mine, her full breasts squishing and sliding against my chest with every thrust.

I picked up the pace, lifting her higher and slamming her down harder. Her moans grew louder, more desperate, turning into those beautiful, breathy sounds.

"Haanhha... haanhha..."

Her legs tightened around my waist, heels digging into my ass, urging me deeper. I moved in her steadily, deep and controlled, feeling her body respond. Her pussy clenched around me, slick and greedy, pulling me in.

[Progress: 68% → 70% → 77%]

I shifted my grip, both hands spreading her ass cheeks wide, and increased the speed. She lost control for a moment, hands flailing before she grabbed my shoulders again, nails biting deeper.

"All of it," she whispered. "Don’t hold back."

I didn’t. I pressed her back against the tiled wall and drove into her harder, faster. Skin slapped against skin, echoing in the small bathroom. Her moans turned into cries, loud and unrestrained, feeding the system with every sound.

Her pussy grew even wetter, hotter, tighter, fluttering wildly around my cock with every deep plunge. I could feel her getting close, her breathing ragged, her walls spasming uncontrollably.

We came together. The intense squeezing of her cunt pushed me over the edge. I thrust deep one last time, burying myself to the balls, and came hard — pulsing thick, hot ropes of cum deep inside her, flooding her pussy as the system surged.

[Full Charge recovered. Host leveled up to 12]

[Another climax will awaken subject’s dormant ability]

A raw surge of power exploded through me like lightning. I couldn’t tell if it was the post-climactic surge or the overwhelming desire to give this woman everything she needed.

She was still in my arms, twitching with aftershocks, her pussy fluttering around my cock.

I lifted her onto the wooden chair and bent her over it. Her hands gripped the seat, back arched, ass presented. I stepped behind her, gripped her hips, and pushed back inside in one smooth thrust.

She cried out—a sharp, broken sound that echoed off the tiles.

I started moving, deep and steady at first. She reached back with one hand, grabbing for mine. I let her take it, our fingers lacing together as I fucked her from behind. Her grip was tight, desperate, like she needed something to hold onto.

For a few moments she managed, her fingers squeezing mine with every thrust. Then her control slipped. Her hand trembled, then went slack as the pleasure overwhelmed her. She let go of me completely and grabbed the edges of the chair instead, knuckles white.

"Bram..." she moaned, voice cracking. "Bram... faaa..."

I drove into her harder. Skin slapped skin. Her pussy clenched around my cock with every deep stroke—hot, slick, greedy.

[Progress: 81% → 84% → 89%]

"Don’t stop," she gasped, pushing back against me. "Please don’t stop..."

She lifted her head, arching her back into a high, proud curve—neck extended, mouth open in a silent cry. Her moans turned loud and unrestrained as I fucked her deeper in that position.

Then, just as suddenly, she collapsed forward, bending low, forehead nearly touching the chair seat in a deep cow‑like arch, ass pushed high toward me. The change in angle made her feel even tighter. I gripped her hips harder and pounded into her, hitting deeper with every thrust.

Her moans became desperate, broken cries. "Abram... oh boy... Abra!"

I felt her getting close again. Her walls fluttered wildly around my cock, her whole body shaking.

I thrust harder, faster, chasing my own release. When she came the second time, it hit her like a wave. Her pussy spasmed violently around me, milking my cock as she cried out, loud and broken.

The sensation pushed me over the edge. I buried myself deep and came again, pulsing hard inside her, flooding her with thick, hot ropes as the system surged.

[Prime Charger, Level 14]

[Subject’s ability now active. Pain healer — can absorb and heal physical trauma through touch. Level 4.]

Daphne stayed bent over the chair, trembling. Then she started laughing—soft, breathless, almost disbelieving—while tears slipped down her cheeks.

"What have you done to me?" She said it to the air in front of her, not quite to me. Her fingers were spread against the chair back, pressing in like she was feeling the texture of something for the first time. "What are you, Abram?"

I didn’t answer. I let her have the moment. Whatever was moving through her, the warmth, the hum, the specific aliveness of an ability that had been dormant for years suddenly remembering what it was, that wasn’t mine to explain yet. That was hers.

"Thank you," she whispered, voice hoarse and shaky. "Thank you... thank you..."

She was crying and laughing at the same time, her body still twitching with aftershocks, my cum slowly leaking out of her as I stayed buried deep.

I leaned over her, pressing my chest to her back, and kissed the side of her neck gently.

"You’re welcome," I murmured against her skin.

We stayed like that for a long moment—her bent over the chair, me holding her, both of us breathing hard in the quiet bathroom.

[Countdown expired. System reset avoided.]

Good, I thought. We made it.

Then a voice cut through the room. Not from the door. Not from the corridor. From inside the walls.

"Daphne."

We both went completely still.

Miss Brown’s voice—but something was wrong. Not authority. Not control. Fear.

"If you’re awake, respond immediately."

A pause. Then, quieter, like she didn’t want to say it out loud:

"Hogsby is closing."