John went for the next least likely thing to work. There was the pretext that he was going for approaches that wouldn’t outright deflower her in any way, be that oral, vaginal or anal, but that was a thinly veiled excuse to draw this encounter out. How he had gotten her naked wasn’t quite to his liking. Now that he had her under him, wet and willing, he would have been insane to make it a short experience.
Kissing his way down her body, he quickly arrived with his head between her legs. They took a moment to properly position themselves. She propped herself up using her wings. A joint at around the same location as a hand would be let her do so like a ‘true’ humanoid. Below, John shouldered her thighs and, finally, got his hands on her ass.
Her figure was balanced, yet her butt definitely had more to grab onto than her chest did. Softness spilled between his fingers. Overtaken by instinct, he squeezed and rolled the twin hills under his palms, breathing excitedly. He gave the left cheek a swift tap, not enough to classify as a spank.
Realizing his mistake John touched one of the pillows and cast Possession. Now he had a proper view of her backside. He gave it a little stronger of a smack, now able to witness the jiggle of relaxed, snow-white spheres. The ripple stopped quickly. John was incredibly tempted to go further, but Nightingale did not seem naturally inclined to enjoy this kind of play.
He looked up over her flat midriff and to her. Her recent orgasm and the prolonged pause had her show a curious expression. “You tend to my butt intensely,” she noted.
“I absolutely adore the female backside,” John exclaimed, kneading continuously all that he could hold onto. The heart shaped pillow of an ass was all he appreciated about a nice derriere. Shapely, symmetrical, firm in appearance and juicy to the touch, with enough meat to create a crease between butt and thighs, which were themselves a great cushion on his shoulders. The size of her rump was overall balanced, serving for great presentation and jiggle. Mouth-watering, yet more modest than the plumpness of Aclysia or Siena. Her ass was a masterpiece that deserved comparison with his haremettes. “God, I love this,” he had to say, giving her another strong squeeze. “You don’t have a secret thing for spanking, do you?”
“It never invoked my curiosity,” Nightingale told him. He could feel her talons on his back. Pointy as they were, they only scratched him in an itch-removing way. “I could offer you another accord, my suitor. In exchange for two favours, you will be allowed to try and awaken in me whatever kinks you desire to find. Within reason.”
“Let’s hear those favours,” John said, excitedly tapping her smooth butt at a rapid pace.
“You will satisfy me through what you desired to do in the first place.” Nightingale’s legs closed a little tighter around him, pressing tensing thighs against his neck. “But first, you will repeat that delightful nickname you used earlier.”
“As you wish, my beautiful songbird.” Immediately after the words, John kissed her slick pussy. So close to her sacred snatch, the smell of lavender was particularly intense. Like a cleansing cloud, it filled his lungs, and spread through his veins a present cool. John had thought that she had applied one of the many shampoos that had been inside the bathroom to herself. Instead, he found the smell pleasantly accompanying the sweetness of her honeypot.
His tongue probed deeper, eager to find out if this taste was truly native to her. Quickly, he repurposed the knowledge his fingers had gathered to let his tongue find her sensitive spots. That swiftly translated into a steady flow of her lovefluids. Soon the taste of lavender completely filled his mouth and lungs. There were other notes in there, sweetness and the clear, crisp air of a chill night. The mixture had an interesting effect on him. His mind felt clearer than it should have been, with Source of Satisfaction feeding an extra 100 Libido into what was an already incredibly erotic situation. Even with that mist dispersed, he felt no less eager to indulge. It was a clear haze, like being drunk without any loss of balance or control.
John was fully indulging in the moment. Eyes closed, he concentrated entirely on the sensations. Her moist insides, twitching around his tongue. Thighs clenching and relaxing around his neck. The firmness of her ass changing in tandem to those rhythms. Careful scratches of her talons on his back, never more than an exciting trail of unrealized danger on his skin.
And her cries, her erotic cries, ringing in his ears. A loud gasp or a delighted coo, a prolonged moan or a short-lived scream, varying in pitch, none faked, few controlled. John gave her a warning tap on the butt each time he noticed her holding back. Regardless of her stance towards masochism, such little spanks sent the right signal. He just had to hold back on the strength more than he usually would.
The Gamer was putting all of his effort into this affair. A particularly slow and exploration-focused variety of effort, but giving his all regardless. Nightingale had an average Libido, a simple 10, and an average sensitivity, therefore. As the man with the greatest sexual ability in the world, definitely in terms of Skills and highly likely in terms of skill, an average woman at his mercy did not last long. With the scene set, mutual trust established, and his fingers clearing any remaining hesitations, his tongue easily brought Nightingale closer and closer.
He could have pulled back. Tense as her thighs were around him, she lacked the strength and the hands to keep him down properly. A little bit more edging could have been wonderful. However, he enjoyed the moment far too much to stop. Besides, he had been promised the opportunity to test her for any submissive tendencies after he satisfied her. The goal was clear.
“Tell me about harpies,” John chose an obvious topic. “I’ve tried to learn more about your kind but scholarship about monster girls, if you excuse the term, is ridiculously underfinanced. All I know is the common folklore that harpies abduct men.” He moved his hand to her ass and squeezed.
A moan preceded her answer. “As you know, then, we are an exclusively female species.” A hard smack on her ass interrupted her, a proper spank this time. She went rigid for a moment and relaxed quickly. The silence and her held breath made it hard to read if she had liked that. John wondered if she was contemplating that herself.
“Ass up,” he ordered and put his arm under her waist to help her along. Only her breasts lay on his lap once he was done. A second slap hit her, the other cheek this time. The pose made her round ass firmer and the impact louder. Again, no strong reaction either way. “Keep talking,” he demanded, stroking the reddening spots gently.
“Us harpies need men, mostly human men due to your status as the Faith-giving race, to procreate. Two mating strategies have emerged from there. One are those you mentioned, the harpies that abduct their partners and force them to remain in their roosts as breeding slaves. Many of your males think they’d like such a fate until it befalls them. These harpies are tall and broad – built for combat. Because abduction is how they reproduce, your beauty standards hold little sway. There’s also only a few of them. Even if the men accept their position, your women are rarely enthusiastic about partners, sons, and brothers getting stolen. So, these brutish harpies are typically hunted down as pests.”
“I take it you are not of that kind?” John asked and earned himself the first annoyed glare he had gotten from her. “Sorry, just a silly joke,” he quickly apologized. To put more action to his words, he massaged her upper back. That did the trick and Nightingale averted her eyes, placing her head on a large pillow she hugged with her wings. By now, John was fairly certain what exactly Nightingale liked. “So, tell me about your kin.”
“The second variety of harpy and the kind that is vastly more successful in modern society split off from the primal kind about four-thousand years ago,” Nightingale explained. “Brutish harpies prefer physically able men... a trait that is deeply ingrained still.” She glanced at his defined chest. “Where none...” Her gorgeous voice was stained by a slimy filter and she quickly swallowed to overcome it. “Where none could be found, the weak and useless, those that wouldn’t be missed, had to do. The harpies from those unions were often too weak, physically, to perform their mother’s hunting strategy.”
“So, they had to endear themselves the traditional way,” John commented. His hand clawed at the back of her hair and forcefully pulled her back. It was harder than experimentation called for in its opening stages.
“Yes!” Nightingale shouted her response with far more excitement than his remark justified. Her eyes went wide and John grinned, his theory basically confirmed.
‘Basically, no masochism and not really submissive to words, but she does like straightforward, physical action,’ he noted. Already his mind was laying out how he could exploit that fact and expand that kink in ways he liked. ‘For a start, let’s make her understand that my orders are not just words.’ “Finish explaining.” He filled those two words with the intent of his Perks.
Nightingale hesitated, the instinctual knowledge that obedience would bring her pleasure seeping in. It was a truly unfair Perk when it came to training women to be submissive. She could have resisted the effect. People resisted a lot of delicious or pleasurable things if it went against their comfort. That she did not told John all he wanted to know.
“It was hard initially, as those early, weaker harpies were still h-hideous. They developed verbaahlll skills to compensate, became ssssingers, poets and sweet talkers. Despite their appearances, they attracted elites. A-ah-tt-tention translated t-to reproductive opportu-unity. Al-longsssside their voices, there were threeeee attributes that made earlyyy harpies attractive to meeennnn, b-before generationsss of breeding mmmade us feminine in looooks. Lllloyalty, as the early harpies had little opportunitieesss, they would hold dearly onto theee onnnnne they gooot. Th-the lack of j-jealousy, oft ffffound am-mong the feeemale species, that had to arrange th-themselves with h-human wiiives who they needed to a-appease. Lastly... l-lastlyyyyy...!”
Her moaning had progressed to such a point that John could not make out what she was saying anymore and the phlegmy sound of her voice was a constant now. “You can stop for now.” Any semblance of words was undone immediately and he manhandled her into an upright position. Pinning wings was a little bit harder than pinning arms, but the joints were located at almost the same distances, so he could still do it. With one arm, he kept the smaller woman pressed against his chest. His dick grinded against the valley of her butt. His other hand reached between her legs once more and found her wetter than he had left her.
It took him less than ten seconds to make her cum, close as she already was. Her head tilted backwards, rested on his shoulder, while her thrashing body tried to move anywhere. Not letting her, John kept his embrace tight. When she started to calm down, he whispered in her ear, “I’ll be forthcoming: you aren’t a masochist and only a little bit of a submissive. You enjoy it when I act assertively, but most people do that when it comes to their partners. If you stayed with me, I’d train you, directly and by unwitting assertion of my own kinks, to enjoy obedience and likely a little bit of pain. I’d make you love every step of it.” Constricting his embrace by adding his second arm, he made her inhale sharply. “I want you to know that’s what I would do, though. Nothing is more important to me, in love and dominance, than trust based in honesty.”
“I...” She swallowed hard to clear her voice and even then she still sounded a little croaky when she continued, “...I appreciate this, deeply. I will make my choice after my friend is saved, my suitor.” Just by using that title, she had essentially announced her decision. Softly, she tried to spread her wings, so the Gamer let go. “Do you want to hear the last point?”
“Of course,” John answered.