Villain Transmigration: Author Transformation

Every minute was a test of his patience; from how defenseless he got, he had no choice but to yield as she continued to lead him on and on.

"Tell me, Your Highness," she purred. "Do you want me to punish you more?"

Before his mind could wander deep, Mystique went so aggressively at him: rubbing the lips of her fleshy cavern against his throbbing size while slamming her fair palms against his beaten chest.

"Ah! Just like that—!" 

Withal, her hips moved like wonders that he couldn't help but be in sync with her but at the same time, he hissed at the sudden sting from his leg, which got pinched so hard.

"Who told you—to move—Hmm—Ah… Keep your hips—in place, pervert."

"Unhand me! Ngh, Unhand—" he retorted, but the sensations got the best of him and threw his head back and fell deep and numb in her prowess.

'She has yet to ram it inside her, but I already feel like coming so bad… God be damned with this punishment….' He held his breath, with veins etched against his flushed reddish skin.

With it, he convulsed hard as his breathing went erratic, mumbling how he's about to release his seed.

Athan groaned, deep and rumbling, out of the carnal desires he drowned into. Withal, his shaft began to rub against her wet honeypot, wanting to get a taste of him, but it only garnered great disappointment from the likes of her.

"I can hear your thoughts."

Mystique, the naughty woman that she was, stopped, which made him roar to frustration.

"No! No, no! Continue—No! Why're you doing this to me—?!" 

Her finger landed on his lips enough to silence him as she giggled. "You deserve punishment, you blood-sucking fiend."

"What—?"

"Not so fast, little boy. This is just the start."

She pulled away, and his manhood was crimson and swollen—right to the edge of the climax. 

Scalp on his head began to tingle as he thought how long he had to endure this kind of session.

There was no telling whether it was night or day.

For the shroud of darkness had already led him astray. 

What swathed to his face was the tasty nectar that came from her fresh, rosy vulva and the sweet, pungent smell coming from it.

Numerous times he arched his back for so long, with the sore pain never hindered; he craved to lick and eat her up for as much as he could.

It wasn't just the itch, and the blazing heat smothered him; the cluster of sweat-drenched his already toned and lean torso and with every bead tingled him as it brushed against his skin and down to the cloth.

Chorale grunts and moans coalesced into a lustful melody altogether with the squelching noises that were born between Athan and Mystique.

"Fuck yes, deeper! Make me happy, you son of a bitch."

Vision of Athan was low enough only to see his body and her relentless indulgence; now, his huffs began to cloud his sight.

Both of his hands and feet appeared to be free, but it was as though an invisible chain cuffed him with wrists tied above his head while he laid down on the sheets. In contrast, his legs spread wide.

More and more, he worked his way to her zones, making her shudder in ecstasy. 

"Oh, I'm gonna—I'm gonna—Yes—!"

Mystique had never wanted so much to urge for release with her silhouette shock to her core.

She was dripping wet all over the place, and he was there to catch and drown from her essence.

Afterwhich, she broke free and bit her lip as she started to caress his chest filled with hickeys and bite marks from her, and the rest of his body had several red swollen scratches and bruises. 

"Look at this, such a work of art as my prized possession." Thus she began to dove and grazed her well-endowed breast to his.

"H—Have mercy…" he pleaded.

Yet it translated so differently for her case; she had a smug grin and leered at him with such sheer judgment.

"Ugh! Pathetic man, you must submit to me and pay tribute to my royal coffers." She spanked his hip. 

Once again, she spanked and then let out a thin layer of ice—hands formed a pair of gloves—that caressed his skin after the burning sensation that erupted his skin.

He flinched and squirmed from her sheer coldness against his warmth, but he was helpless and continued to endure from her might—her smooches roamed his collarbone and up to his jawline, buzzing him into a pleasure he never thought would feel good unto him.

Just when their lips crashed and sealed, Mystique started to rub her body against him.

Despite the weird position he got himself into, he wanted every second of it.

There, he found it full of longing, greed, and lust on such a level he never imagined before and from the crazy woman, no less.

"Silence! Slutty man, you love it, don't you?" She grabbed a handful of his hair, pulling him away from the bed with ease. "Do your job well, and I shall reward you handsomely."

The pupils in his eyes dilated, colored him surprised, but his head nodded like there was no tomorrow.

In the end, it was out of his control. He shut his eyes, ever-so-dreamy, and let her lead from the path of pleasure he had yet to venture further.

His mind never wandered off, and he kept himself by the edge when her icy touch grabbed onto his meaty shaft. An earful groan blurted out his lips as he wanted to stop but was futile in front of her.

"Do you want to feel inside me?" Mystique, while doing it, whispered to his ear with a huff in the end. "Huh? You want me?"

Athan wanted none but her at the moment. Now, his heart and mind yielded to her will, and it was all for her to take.

"Good boy," she purred, letting go of his hair and then caressed the chapped bottom lip. "Let us enjoy it nice and slow."

Her hands were covered the little visions he relied on, now becoming pitch-black darkness, and only such fragrance and erotic voice from her lingered for more than a while.

Though it was clear, the hand wasn't enough as the tip of his member met the tight, warm, and wet sensations. 

More and more inches of his adorned its tightness as she pressed deeper and eventually reaching down the hilt.

"Ahh! Oh yes!" She moaned, shaking her hips from his large junk. "Ready or not, here we come."

'