Harem Master: Seduction System

Chapter 343:

Elaine froze.

Her entire body, which had been a live wire of sensation, pleasure, and pain, went rigid as stone. Her back, slick with sweat from his efforts, locked up. Her hands, which had been splayed weakly on the desk, dug into the wood, her knuckles turning white.

Her eyes, wide with a terror so absolute it was paralyzing, stared, unseeing, at the simple, wooden grain of the desk.

She heard it again. A voice that should not be here. The one voice in all the world that could make this worse.

"...Mother? Are you in there?" 𝕗𝐫𝐞𝕖𝕨𝐞𝗯𝚗𝕠𝘃𝐞𝚕.𝐜𝗼𝚖

It was her daughter’s voice. Eleanor. Clear as a bell from just outside the thin canvas flap.

A silent, agonized scream ripped through Elaine’s mind. ’No... no, no, no, no... please, gods, not her. Anyone but her. Not now. Please, not while he’s... not while I’m...’

She felt the man inside her, the man who was still buried to the hilt in her pussy, chuckle. She felt the deep, rumbling vibration of it, deep in her body, an obscene, physical connection.

Alaric just smiled. A slow, diabolical grin spread across his face. He felt Elaine’s inner muscles clench around his cock, an involuntary spasm of pure, uncut terror. It felt amazing.

This... this was an unexpected bonus. This was so much better.

"...Mother? I’m coming in!"

"NO!"

The scream tore from Elaine’s throat, a raw, desperate, animal sound. "Eleanor, stop! Don’t come in!"

She tried to thrash, to get him off her, out of her. "Don’t! I’m... I’m indisposed! I’m... changing! Please, go away!"

The lie was weak, pathetic, and far too late.

The tent flap flew open.

Eleanor stood there, her hand still on the canvas, a bright, eager, slightly annoyed look on her face. "Mother, you won’t believe what Lord Alaric just—"

Her words died in her throat.

Her face, which had been a mask of girlish excitement and petty frustration, just... froze.

It curdled. Into pure, stunned, uncomprehending shock.

She saw it.

She saw the whole, obscene, impossible picture.

Her mother. Elaine. Her pale, motherly body, which she had only ever seen in modest gowns, was bent over a small writing desk.

Her simple nightgown was shredded. Torn into ribbons, hiked up to her waist.

Her mother’s magnificent, white, trembling buttocks were completely exposed, glistening with sweat, red handprints still visible on the pale flesh.

And her lover. Her lord. Her god. The man who had denied her, the man she ached for.

Alaric.

He was behind her. His trousers were bunched around his ankles. His own ass, pale and hard, was clenched with the effort. His massive, thick dick was buried to the root in her mother’s naked, thrashing body.

He was fucking her.

He was fucking her like an animal. Pounding into her. Slamming into her with a brutal, relentless rhythm that was shaking the whole desk.

Elaine’s massive, motherly breasts, which Eleanor had nursed from as a child, were bouncing like watermelons in an earthquake with every single, brutal thrust.

Eleanor just... stared.

Her brain short-circuited. It just... stopped. She didn’t scream. She didn’t cry. She didn’t faint. She just... froze, her hand still on the tent flap.

And Alaric... Alaric didn’t stop.

He didn’t even slow down.

He saw Eleanor. He saw her shock. He saw her frozen form.

And it fueled him. He increased his pace, slamming into Elaine’s tight, motherly pussy with even more force. The wet, slapping sound of his flesh hitting hers was obscenely loud in the suddenly silent tent.

Thwack. Thwack. Thwack.

He looked over his shoulder at Eleanor, who was paralyzed in the doorway, her face white.

He smiled at her. A broad, friendly, welcoming smile.

"Perfect timing," he panted, his voice rough and breathless with lust. "Come on in. Don’t mind us."

He gave Elaine’s ass a hard, stinging slap. WHAP. The red handprint bloomed bright on her pale skin.

"We’re just... bonding."

"Isn’t that right, Elaine?" he growled into her hair, still thrusting. "We’re just... getting to know each other."

"Aaaah!" Elaine screamed, a sound of pure, unadulterated pain, pleasure, and ultimate, soul-destroying humiliation. She squeezed her eyes shut, hot tears streaming down her face, splashing onto the desk.

"Eleanor... no... get out! Get out! Please! It’s not... it’s not...!"

"It’s not what it looks like?" Alaric finished for her, laughing. He gave another vicious, celebratory thrust that made her scream again. "Oh, I think it’s exactly what it looks like. Isn’t it, Elaine? We’re just... bonding."

"A little family bonding," he added, his voice a low growl.

"My... my lord...?" Eleanor finally whispered, her voice a tiny, confused, broken thing. She still hadn’t moved. She couldn’t move.

"See, Elaine?" Alaric grunted, his rhythm unbroken. "Your daughter’s here. Say hello. Be polite. Don’t be a rude hostess." He gripped her hair, pulling her head back.

Elaine just sobbed, a horrible, broken, wailing sound. "No... no... Eleanor... help me... please... help... he’s a monster..."

Eleanor’s reaction was... weird.

Her mind, shattered by the sight, was desperately, frantically trying to make sense of it. It was like a broken mirror, reflecting a reality she couldn’t accept.

But her brain was already warped by his influence. By her own desperate, denied lust. By the awe she felt for him. By the searing humiliation of his rejection just the night before.

He was her lord. He was perfect. He was the one who punished her, the one who denied her, the one she ached for. He couldn’t be the villain. He couldn’t be the bad guy.

He wouldn’t do this. Not unless... not unless he was the victim.

So... if he wasn’t the bad guy...

Then...

She slowly, mechanically, walked into the tent, letting the flap fall shut behind her, plunging the room into a slightly dimmer light. Her face was pale, like a porcelain doll’s. Her eyes flickered between her sobbing, naked, jiggling mother... and Alaric’s powerful, pale, thrusting hips.

The anger started to build. A cold, strange, jealous rage.

But it wasn’t aimed at Alaric.

She looked at her mother with a strange, cold detachment. Then she looked at Alaric.

"Mother," she said. Her voice was ice-cold. "How... how could you?"

Elaine’s head snapped up, her tear-streaked face a mask of utter, baffled disbelief. "What?! ME?!"

Alaric kept fucking her. Slam. Slam. Slam. The relentless rhythm was the punctuation to Eleanor’s question.

"He... he FORCED me!" Elaine shrieked, her voice cracking, her body jerking with his thrusts. "He TRICKED me! He THREATENED me! He threatened YOU, Eleanor! He’s a MONSTER!"

Alaric laughed. A deep, hearty, triumphant laugh, his hips still pounding into Elaine’s pussy.

"Forced you?" he panted, his voice full of mocking disbelief. "Is that what you call it? You were screaming for it five minutes ago, my little milf."

"I was NOT!" Elaine shrieked. "I was sobbing! You... you threatened...!"

Alaric slapped his hand over her mouth, silencing her, his fingers digging into her cheeks. "Shh, shh. Don’t spoil the moment. You’ll upset your daughter."

He looked at Eleanor, his face a picture of sad understanding. "She’s... passionate," he said, as if explaining away a child’s tantrum.

"My lord..." Eleanor said, her voice trembling with a strange, jealous anger. "She... she seduced you, didn’t she?"

She wanted it to be true. She needed it to be true.

Alaric saw his opening. It was perfect. He pulled out of Elaine with a loud, wet, popping sound.

Elaine collapsed onto the desk, sobbing, a boneless, humiliated wreck.

Alaric turned, calmly fastening his trousers. He walked over to Eleanor, his face a mask of deep, profound, fake regret.

"I... I’m so sorry, my dear," he said, cupping Eleanor’s face, his thumbs stroking her cheeks. "I’m so, so sorry you had to see this."

"You... you..." she stammered, looking up at him, wanting to believe him, needing to believe him.

"I came here," he said, his voice thick with false sincerity, "to... to pay my respects. To your mother. I... I wanted to do the right thing. To... to ask for your hand in marriage, properly! I wanted her blessing!"

"You... you did?" Eleanor breathed, her eyes shining with sudden, stupid tears. ’He... he wants to marry me...!’

"Yes!" he said, his face a picture of pained honesty. "And... and this... this vixen..." he gested, his hand waving dismissively at the sobbing heap that was her mother.

"She... she just... threw herself at me! The moment I mentioned marriage, she... she tore her own clothes off!"

"No..." Elaine whimpered from the desk. "No... he’s lying... he tore it... he’s a devil..."

"She... she said she was... lonely," Alaric continued, his voice breaking with fake emotion. "She begged me. She... she said... ’Why would you want the girl, when you can have the woman?’ She said... she said she’d show me what a real woman felt like."

"Mother... you didn’t..." Eleanor whispered, her gaze turning to stone.

"Eleanor, no! He’s lying to you! He’s a demon! He’s...!"

"I’m just a man, Eleanor," Alaric sighed, playing the victim card perfectly. He hung his head, as if in shame. "I’m... I’m weak. She... she has such a sexy body. That... that motherly figure... I... I tried to say no. I swear I did. But she... she’s very... persuasive. Can you... can you ever forgive me? For being so weak?"

He looked at her, his eyes full of false pain. It was a test.

Eleanor looked at his "sad," "remorseful" face. Then she looked at her wretched, sobbing, half-naked mother, who now just looked... pathetic. And guilty.

Her mind snapped to a decision.

"Of course, my lord," she said, her voice suddenly hard. She stepped forward, away from her mother, and wrapped her arms around Alaric.

"It’s... it’s her fault."

She turned her head, glaring at her mother.

"She’s a slut."

Elaine’s head snapped up. The sobbing stopped. A look of pure, hollow devastation washed over her face.

"Eleanor...? How... how can you...?" she whispered, her voice dead.

"I... I am your MOTHER...!"

Eleanor completely ignored her. She stepped past her mother’s broken form, as if she was just a piece of furniture, and wrapped her arms around Alaric’s waist, pressing her cheek against his chest.

"You... you don’t have to apologize to me, my lord," she purred, her voice fiercely loyal. "I understand. She preyed on you."

"But... she’s your mother..." Alaric said, playing his part.

"She’s... she’s always been like this!" Eleanor lied, her mind creating the narrative as she went. "She... she’s always been jealous of me! She hates that I’m young! That... that you want me! She... she tried to steal you!"

"You’re... you’re not mad?" Alaric whispered, as if he couldn’t believe her kindness. His arms instinctively wrapped around Eleanor’s waist, his hands finding her bubbly, familiar ass, giving it a possessive squeeze.

"At you? Never," Eleanor purred, pressing herself against him.

"But... won’t you hate me?" he whispered, his gaze flicking to Elaine. "I... I am... fucking your mother."

"She’s just a whore," Eleanor spat, the word dripping with venom. She turned her head, glaring at her mother with cold, hard eyes. "You can... you can fuck her as much as you want, my lord. She deserves it. For trying to steal you from me. Punish her."

Elaine’s mind shattered.

It splintered into a million pieces.

Her own daughter. Her baby. Siding with him. Believing him. Hating her.

Calling her a whore.

It was... it was over. Everything was over.

Alaric grinned over Eleanor’s shoulder at Elaine. It was a wolf’s grin. A grin of pure, absolute, checkmate triumph. He had won. Completely.

He couldn’t resist twisting the knife. Just one more turn.

"Well," he said, his voice a low, lustful murmur, his hands groping Eleanor’s ass. "That’s good. Because... I have to be honest, Eleanor... I love this mature, voluptuous, motherly body of hers."

He let go of Eleanor, pushing her gently aside. He walked back to the still-sobbing, broken Elaine, who was still draped over the desk.

He ran his hand over her curvaceous hips, his touch no longer violent, but slow, possessive, appraising. "It’s so much... juicier... than yours, Eleanor. Softer. More... womanly."

Eleanor’s face flashed with a hot, bright spike of jealousy. "My lord...?"

"This... this body..." Alaric continued, his other hand cupping one of Elaine’s massive, jiggling breasts, weighing it in his palm. "It’s unbelievable. This weight. This softness. I... I think I’m addicted. I need this."

He looked at Eleanor, his face serious. "In fact... fucking you... it’s kinda... boring... now that I’ve had her."

"WHAT?!" Eleanor yelped, the word a shriek of pure panic.

"It’s true," he said with a cruel shrug. "You’re... nice, princess. You’re a youthful beauty, sure. But this... this is next level. This is a woman’s body."

"Boring? You... you think I’m boring?" she whimpered.

"It’s not as much fun without her," he said, lying through his teeth, enjoying the panic in Eleanor’s eyes. "She’s the main course. You’re just... the appetizer. So... you have a new job, princess."

"A... a job?" she stammered, her mind reeling from the whiplash. He was bored with her? He was choosing her mother?

"Mm-hmm," he confirmed. "You’re going to convince this hot mother of yours... to be my permanent slut. A... package deal."

"A... a package deal?"

"Yes. You. Her. Together. Whenever I want. However I want," he said. "Otherwise... I might just get bored with you, too. And... find a new toy."

The threat was clear as glass. The terror of being abandoned, of losing him... it was worse than any other shame.

Eleanor immediately spun on her mother. Her face was a mask of cold, desperate fury.

"Mother," she commanded, her voice shaking with a new, dark authority. "You heard him. You... you will do this."

"Eleanor... please..." Elaine wept, her heart breaking all over again. "He’s lying! He’s manipulating you! Can’t you see?! He’s a monster!"

"I DON’T CARE!" Eleanor shrieked, her voice hysterical. "I don’t care if he’s the devil himself! You did this! You seduced him! You started this! Now you have to FIX IT!"

"Fix it...?" Elaine whispered, her voice hollow.

"If you want me to ever forgive you," Eleanor said, her voice cold as death, her eyes gleaming with a mad light. "You will do whatever he says. You’ll... you’ll be with me. You’ll serve him with me. You’ll be his slut... our slut... whenever he wants."

"Or... or what?" Elaine sobbed, her last shred of hope dying.

"Or I will HATE YOU FOREVER!" Eleanor screamed, her face twisted with jealousy and rage. "I will never call you ’Mother’ again! I’ll... I’ll tell everyone what a whore you are! I’ll tell father! I’ll tell him how you threw yourself at my fiancé! I’ll RUIN you!"

Elaine’s mind just... snapped.

Her daughter... her baby... was threatening her. Siding with her rapist.

Her king was useless. Her daughter hated her. Her body was broken and defiled.

It was all... too much.

She just... stopped.

She stopped crying. She stopped struggling. She stopped thinking. Her mind just... went blank. A cold, empty, peaceful void.

Alaric, who had been watching this masterpiece of emotional destruction, saw it. He saw the light go out of her eyes. He saw the emptiness take over.

’She’s gone,’ he thought, a thrill running through him. ’Perfect.’

He saw his opening.

He walked up behind her, unfastened his trousers again.

He slammed back into her pussy from behind. Hard.

This time, Elaine didn’t scream. She didn’t cry.

She just... moaned.

A low, deep, broken, animal sound. A sound of pure, mindless sensation.

Her mind was gone. There was only the pleasure. Only the dick filling her, owning her.

She was lost.