The Book of Lucia, Chapter II - Oblatio Incendia

[Lightman]

There it was. Again.

The moment those powerful legs coiled around her again, the memory returned in full, vivid clarity. That crushing force, that unyielding pressure that had threatened to steal breath and thought alike. To any outsider, it would have seemed a reckless place to remain, willingly caught within such formidable strength. There were easier paths, safer advantages she could have taken. But Madeline had never been one for the simple route. There was a purpose in this.

Her breath hitched, a sharp intake as the pressure mounted, her body reacting instinctively to the sheer power now wrapped around her. It was intoxicating in its own right. Dangerous, yes, but undeniably compelling. Most would panic, feeling the dizzying onset of oxygen deprivation, the telltale signs of bones on the verge of splintering. Where others might have been filled with dread and terror, she instead leaned into it, eyes narrowing with focus rather than fear.

“Not yet.” The Brtion’s voice was firm, carrying through the tension that bound them together. Indeed, not yet. There was a specific goal that needed to be reached, a precise crescendo that Madeline intended to orchestrate.

Her hands found purchase, guiding both of their bodies backwards. Soon enough, Chastity’s back would meet the solid support behind her, framed beneath the looming presence of the cross above.

The scene, no doubt, would have sent shockwaves through any pious observer.

Madeline pressed forward, refusing to be caged by the hold alone. Their bodies collided again, with an even greater closeness, the English Rose driving onward with a relentless will. Her movements were now marked by a subdued intensity, less frantic than before, yet equally all-encompassing. With every manoeuvre, she intended to extract something more significant than mere perseverance from her "adversary".

She captured Chastity’s lips once more, this time with a hunger that bordered on possessive. It was not a gentle kiss. It was a claim, a statement, a refusal to yield, even as the surrounding pressure tightened. A soft sound escaped her, half breath, half challenge, as she refused to be overwhelmed.

Her hands moved with equal certainty, settling against the strong curves of Chastity’s form, steadying her, anchoring them both in place. She adjusted her position slightly, ensuring the Austrian remained upright, supported yet contained beneath her influence.

The English Rose sped up, her body a tempest of lust and raw desire. Their breasts rolled and pressed, creating a searing friction against each other. Madeline broke the kiss with a sharp exhalation, her lips seeking immediate solace. Her mouth descended, not to the soft caress of before, but with fierce intent. She let her teeth sink into the soft flesh of Chastity’s breast, her tongue flickering against the nipple with serpentine grace, teasing, tormenting, demanding. Madeline was giving her all, pouring every ounce of her will and strength into this final, climactic assault. She hoped, for Chastity’s sake, the Austrian could do the same.

[BlackAkuma]

Sister Chastity believed herself spent for the day. While she, herself, might have aspired to speak with the divine, her body was still very much stuck on the mortal coil. There was only so much she could hope to do in any given day, only so much that she could accomplish, and she felt she had to be at her limits, even for sexual fervor. Surely Madeline could say the same. The things they had done to shame would put all but the whoriest to shame.

As it turned out, however, she was woefully wrong. On both counts.

She crooned - a long, happy noise - as she felt Madeline’s body giving way between her thighs, compressing at her will. Even now, she still had more than enough power to crush this woman’s body, to do the same to anyone’s. Her thighs radiated power, and she could feel the woman’s body caving between them. Ribs would give, organs would flatten. Her thighs could almost meet over the sides, a sensation she longed for.

But that was not to be. In the next moment, Madeline was surging forward, and their bodies met against, skin touching skin. Sister Chastity, charged with lust, couldn't bite back her ecstatic cry if she wanted to. Madeline was aggressive, but it wasn’t the wild, feral forcefulness of a mad dog. It was predatory, calculated, as the woman was methodically devouring her body, bones and all.

”More,” She greedily rasped as her hands moved up to caress Madeline’s hair and tangled themselves. ”More.”

‘More’ was what she got, as the kiss rocked her core. She eagerly met Madeline’s lips with a wanton hunger, this time returning some of the aggressiveness instead of passively slipping aside. The Briton made a low, soft sound, and she replied with a teasing hum, as if egging her on.

Sister Chastity might - might - have been able to keep her wits through all of this, if this was the extent of what Madeline had in mind. But then the woman had to up the ante and bring those devious teeth of hers to the breasts. The bite sent an explosion of sensation through her chest, as the erogenous zone erupted with pleasure. Even if she was fresh, this would be too much to endure, and she was so far from fresh.

Sister Chastity arched her back, wailed, and burst, as what little she had left came gushing out of her. Her legs stretched far, muscles tightened, and the full force of her legs came onto Madeline’s at once, an instant of terrifying power, before it all came out of her at once. She collapsed, falling back against the frame with her face to the ceiling and her arms at her side.

And still… ”More…yes, more.”