NTR: Stealing wives in Another World-Chapter 24: Fina’s revenge (18+)

Mirielle was still bent over the counter, thighs slick, chest heaving, her hair clinging to the sweat on her neck. Her moans were fading into soft whimpers now, her body twitching in the aftershocks of her first-ever orgasm.

Allen stood behind her, bare from the waist down, his cock already rock hard—and now?

Now he was ready to take things further.

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[Skill Activated: Penis Enlargement (Advanced)]

Calibrating user preference...

Orc-tier selected. Girth and length increasing...

Warning: Not compatible with average mortal expectations.

Proceed?

___

[Yes.]

___

Allen groaned as the skill surged through him—his cock throbbing, swelling thicker with each pulse. His shaft lengthened past human proportions, the girth pushing his hand apart as he gripped it. Veins stood out along the darkened shaft, the head flared and leaking precum like a faucet.

It looked brutal.

It looked wrong.

And it looked fucking perfect.

Mirielle turned her head weakly, catching a glimpse—and froze.

Her lips parted. "W-what the hell is *that*?"

Allen just grinned, stroking the beast slowly in his hand. "That's what a real cock looks like, sweetheart. The kind your husband could never dream of giving you."

Her eyes were locked on it, wide and terrified—but her thighs squeezed together again. Her pussy clenched around nothing.

"Th-that won't fit," she whispered.

Allen stepped forward, letting the blunt, drooling head rub against her still-spread folds.

"We'll make it fit," he said.

She whimpered.

He leaned in, growling in her ear. "You came for the first time tonight. Now I'm going to *fuck* that pussy like it's mine."

He pushed.

The tip barely slipped in—and she cried out, gripping the counter again.

"Oh fuck—Allen—"

"Shhh, breathe."

Another inch.

Her pussy stretched, trying to accommodate the impossible girth. Her walls clenched down, spasming already from the pressure.

Allen gritted his teeth, going slow—not because he was gentle, but because her tight, twitching cunt was trying to swallow him whole and fighting every inch.

"Fuuuck, you're tight," he growled. "Like you were saving this pussy for me all along."

She was panting now, moaning and crying—but she wasn't saying no.

Her hips pushed back.

"Please," she whimpered. "Just—just do it—"

He slammed forward.

Her scream echoed through the house.

Allen bottomed out—barely. Her walls stretched to the limit around the orc-sized cock now buried inside her. She shook like a leaf, body wracked with too many sensations all at once.

"I'm splitting you in half," he groaned, hips grinding against her ass. "And you're fucking loving it."

She was.

Her pussy pulsed around him, her legs trembling as another orgasm crashed into her just from being stuffed so deep. Her screams became moans, moans became sobs, and those sobs twisted right back into *begging*.

He started thrusting.

Slow at first. Each pull dragged that thick cock against her sensitive walls, and each thrust shoved it back in, deeper than she thought possible. Her juices dripped down her thighs. The sound of their bodies slapping together filled the kitchen with wet, obscene music.

"Say it," Allen growled, fucking her harder. "Say whose cock this is."

"Y-yours!" she sobbed. "It's yours, Allen! Your cock—just don't stop—!"

Her husband was still passed out on the floor.

And his wife was being bred on the kitchen counter by a stranger with a monster cock.

Allen wrapped his hand around her waist and fucked her harder—like he was going to leave her gaping for days, like he was rewriting her body's memory of sex one brutal thrust at a time.

And then—

Outside, hidden behind the cracked kitchen window, Fina licked her lips.

She saw everything.

And the smile on her face?

Wicked.

Because once Allen was done with that pussy... it would be her turn to punish that cheating little housewife.

Mirielle was wrecked.

She was draped over the kitchen counter, sweaty and limp, her pussy gaping slightly from the brutal stretch of Allen's orc-sized cock. Her thighs were sticky. Her moans had died into breathless whimpers. She couldn't even lift her head.

She had no idea the night was just getting started.

From the front door came a soft click.

Allen looked up, smirking.

"Well, look who showed up right on time."

Barefoot and grinning like a demon, Fina slipped into the house, her feathered skirt bouncing with every step. She moved with zero shame, her golden eyes scanning the scene—the passed-out husband, the twitching wife, the cum-dripping cock still glistening between Allen's legs.

"Ohhh, she really let you put it in," Fina purred, circling them like a lioness around prey.

Mirielle stirred, head turning slightly.

"Wait... who...?"

Fina leaned over the counter, right in Mirielle's face, her smile predatory. "Hey there, Miss High-and-Mighty. Remember me? The 'disgusting beastkin' you turned your nose up at in town?"

Mirielle's lips trembled. "I—"

Fina dropped something soft onto the counter beside her.

A bundle of green leaves. Light, fuzzy. Innocent-looking.

Except they weren't.

Allen chuckled. "You brought the Itching Leaf."

"Oh, I brought the good batch," Fina said, tail swishing with excitement. "The kind that made Mirka rethink her entire existence when we rubbed it between her thighs."

Mirielle tried to push herself up—but Allen's strong hand pressed gently against her lower back, keeping her in place.

"You're not going anywhere," he said coolly. "You're still mine."

Fina leaned closer, her claws brushing a lock of sweat-damp hair behind Mirielle's ear. ƒrēewebnoѵёl.cσm

"I watched you get split open, darling," she whispered, voice like poisoned honey. "I watched you scream for Allen's cock like a starving whore. And now, you're gonna learn what happens to women who look down on beastkin."

She plucked a leaf from the bundle and rolled it between her fingers—activating the fine, irritating hairs that released a stinging warmth on contact.

Then, without warning—

She slid it between Mirielle's ass cheeks.

"Ahh—!" Mirielle squealed, body jolting. "What—what is that?!"

Fina grinned wider. "It's just nature, babe. It's about to make your pretty little holes tingle in ways you've never felt."

Allen just leaned on the counter, stroking his still-hard cock lazily, watching the show.

Fina wasn't gentle.

She spread Mirielle's legs wider and rubbed another leaf between her inner thighs, then across her freshly-fucked pussy lips. The reaction was instant.

Mirielle screamed—again—this time in confusion and building discomfort.

"It burns!" she cried. "What is this?!"

Fina laughed. "Oh, honey. You're so lucky. This stuff gets stronger the wetter you are. And your slutty pussy's like a swamp right now."

The itch was maddening—an intense, crawling tingle that spread like wildfire across every sensitive fold and crevice. Mirielle thrashed, rubbing her thighs together desperately.

"N-no! It—it's too much! I can't—!"

"You're gonna take it," Fina snapped. "Just like you took his cock. Let that slutty body remember."

Allen stepped forward again, sliding his cock between Mirielle's thighs, not even pushing in—just letting her feel the heat of it, brushing against her itching folds. She sobbed, squirming, the need to relieve the sensation mixing with the arousal she couldn't stop feeling.

It was torture.

Delicious, humiliating, perfect torture.

Fina crouched beside her again, whispering, "You don't get to look down on beastkin anymore, slut. You belong to us now. You'll crave Allen's cock, and you'll beg for me to scratch that itch the way your limp-dick husband never could."

Allen raised a brow. "You want to fuck her next?"

Fina smirked. "Maybe. Or maybe I'll just ride your face while she watches."

Mirielle could barely think anymore—caught between burning shame, overwhelming itch, and the lingering stretch of Allen's monstrous cock. She was crying again, but her hips kept twitching, grinding, searching.

"Please," she gasped. "I can't take it—please, do something—"

Allen and Fina exchanged a glance.

"Oh, we'll do something," Allen said, gripping her hips again.

"And this time," Fina purred, climbing onto the counter to sit beside her, "you better thank us for it."