devilkri6

[devilkri6]

Please, teacher.

A cold autumn wind rolls the lifeless leaves over the training ground; the crimson pre-dawn sun takes the last notes of warmth from the skin of the trainees, making them squirm in brief breaks from the bout.

Like a wild lion, the man circles around his prey - remembering every step, every wave of the hand, every confident movement.

We don't dance here, — he taps a sharpened wooden stick on the ground.

— Fight! — He throws the improvised weapon at the girl and parries new attacks with feline dexterity, deflecting her torso at different angles.

The concrete floor is outlined by the rustling movements of their feet. The Supreme Sorcerer is too strong, too fast, and in complete control of his body.

Slowly. Too slowly, — he gets behind the girl and shoves her carelessly to the ground. Christina falls to her knees and slams her fists menacingly against the cold concrete.

— Again, — she jumped to her feet and struck the man in the chest with her staff. — Attack, Master, — she stepped aside slightly, brushing sweat from her forehead and looking at the wizard with the expectant eyes of her large emerald eyes.

— If you never learn how to defend yourself, you will never become a master, —his voice is even, chillingly calm and firm.

— Start already, — the Sorcerer slides one foot, finding a solid footing, and slowly raises his arms.

Christina shuffles gracefully with her soft shoes and punches the man in the shoulder. The blow slides over the tightly pulled muscles, clinging to the fabric of the blue mantle. The man doesn't have time to duck and raises his eyebrows in surprise, nodding approvingly.

— Good girl, — he whispered very close to her ear, burning the girl's skin with his breath. — But still not good enough.

Stephen sharply throws up his weapon and hooks her trembling legs in front of him. The girl loses her balance and hits her nose on the concrete floor. Her head instantly begins to spin, the world splits in front of her eyes, and a thin, scarlet trickle oozes from her nostril, staining her plump lips. The girl rolls over onto her back and covers her eyes in an attempt to concentrate.

— Your opponents won't wait. They will kill you instantly, at the slightest hesitation.

Stephen gives a hand in an attempt to lift the girl to her feet, but Christina only winks angrily at this gracious gesture and clumsily stands up, chin up proudly.

— You're absent-minded, — the Mage looks condescendingly at the girl from his lofty height. — If you have a problem, as your teacher I should know about it, — he crosses his arms over his chest and tilts his head, scrutinizing every feature of the girl's face and searching for a catch.

— Come on, teacher. You don't give a shit, — Christina tucked the loose silver strands into a tight, high ponytail. — You talk. We do, — she wipes the little bloody stream under her nose. — You have no interest in our lives, we have no interest in yours. Fair enough, I think, — the girl bows in a deep bow. — Thank you for your training, High Sorcerer, — she shakes off the dry leaves from her robes and stubbornly stands, waiting for some sort of response. The mage only handed her a wooden, chiseled staff and smiled ingratiatingly.

— Shall we do it again? — He pushes her in the chest and adopts a fighting stance, catching the angry look in his student's eyes. — I'll call you weak if you don't take a punch, — the man attacks her, throwing her to the ground and hovering over her with his whole body. — Weak, — he whispered through clenched teeth.

— I am not weak! — The girl screams back, wrapping her hips around the man's strong waist. With a jerk, she flips the man onto his back and pummels his chest with her fist. The sorcerer responds to this onslaught with a resounding, guttural laugh.

She will never win this game. He commands, she obeys. He is in charge, and absolutely everyone has to take his opinion into account.

Christina leaps to her feet and slaps the Enchanter painfully on the ankles.

— Get up, — the girl hisses at him. Steven gently lifts himself up on his elbow and laughs even louder in response.

— You are unworthy to wear the title of master, — the man throws his weapon at the girl. — Get out of my temple, — he straightens up and looks disappointedly in Christine's face, and then, turning on his heels, walks away.

— Goddamn piece of shit, — Kristina shouts after him, while she stands there biting her lips, holding back a torrent of hot tears.

She tried so hard, she worked so long and so hard for her goal and she wanted this place so badly, and now it's all falling apart before her eyes because of some narcissistic asshole. The sorcerer stops on the stairs and feels Christine-that little something-beam sizzling eyes on his back. His skin tingles unpleasantly, and a wave of barely controllable anger surges through his body. The magician covers his eyes and mentally chokes the girl until her plump pink lips turn blue.

— You, — her insolent face swollen with anger appeared right in front of him. — A narcissistic asshole and keep the likes of you around, — Christine jabs her finger at the Sorcerer's chest. She gasps with her own anger, and her throat and ribcage ache with heavy, intermittent breathing.

Without exception, everyone tolerates the antics of this pompous sorcerer, obeying his every word like sheep and indulging his endless caprices.

— Go jerk off, finally let your filthy gut out on someone other than me, — she raises her hand and slaps his rough, shadowy face loudly in the sunset light. The small palm of her hand is sore from the meeting with the prickly neat beard, and tears of boundless resentment finally come to her large emerald eyes.

The man boils like a kettle, letting off steam loudly. His cheekbones play in spots, the swollen vein on his neck pulses nervously, his fingers dig into his palms and his sharp knuckle fists shudder. The warlock rolls his eyes, unable to bear it any longer.

— Wipe your filthy tears and get out. I don't want to see you here by midnight, — he said, and quickly took off down the stairs.

Christine is left alone with her silent sobs and, seeing off the last rays of sunlight, goes inside. The path to the cell is blocked by puzzled stares, relentlessly directed in her direction. Everyone wonders what has upset the girl, but no one dares to ask. Quietly opening the door, the girl crawls to the back of it, props it up, and hugs her knees.

The body explodes with new tears and a portion of excellent spilling through the veins of anger, and the anger is the poison that penetrates inside, it is the thorns that are embedded in the heart, and then the icy crust that covers it.

And what was she hoping for when she came here? What was she looking for within these walls? Now the girl has no answers to these questions, clearly posed at the beginning. There is an unbreakable silence behind the door, as if this wing of the temple was long ago abandoned by life, taking away all echoes and voices. Christina is really weak, if she took the Wizard's words seriously and did not try to challenge them in any way.

Hate craves release and smolders at her fingertips. Wiping her wet face, the girl dumps her belongings into one big pile on the floor and curses this sacred place that once welcomed her into its walls.

— Are you still here? — A velvety, enveloping voice comes from behind her.

The man stands with his arms crossed over his chest and leaning against the dilapidated doorjamb, his lips contorted into a smirking grimace. He is pleased with himself; he revels in Christine's misery.

— You're really weak to give up so easily, — every carelessly spoken word affects a tightly woven ball of nerves somewhere in the center of the girl's brain.

— Why did you come here? — she stands, clutching at the edge of the table and scratching the ancient surface with her fingernails.

— I came to let my ugly gut out, as you advised, — is distributed the distinct sound of the door closing and heavy footsteps on the creaking floor.

The breath lingers somewhere in my lungs, and my brain trembles with the lack of oxygen. The girl's still incomprehensible sensations throb in her temples, knocking out the fragile remnants of common sense.

Stephen comes up behind her and presses his hips hard into Christine, breathing heavily into the top of her head and gently beginning to stroke her thin shoulders. The girl stands still as if she were standing still, preferring not to show any signs of life.

— I don't even like you, — he reaches into the tight ponytail at the back of her head and pulls back the elastic band, unraveling her hair. He tangles his fingers in the silver curls and inhales the familiar scent of lilacs and gooseberries. Such open proximity makes Christina shake her whole body, greedily grasp the air with her lips, and begin to purr softly. The enchanter wraps his arms around the girl's waist, barely touching the neat seams of her perfectly tailored mantle.

— You have to go, — she barely squeezed the words out of her mouth, her whole body reverting from the touch. God, how long it had been since a man had touched her, how much she wanted it now.

— Do you really want me to leave? — The man licked the small, exposed area of skin on her neck. — I don't think so, — the wet, hot tongue continued to trace circles on her skin, which gradually turned into goose bumps. — Turn around, — Stephen orders. — Look at me and tell me you want me to leave.

The girl turns around, but does not look up at him and nervously rubs her hands somewhere in the area of his stomach. Of course, she does not want the Wizard to leave her alone with the sexual tension, she wants to taste his caresses, to be completely immersed in contact with the delightful male body. God, she cannot count how many nights she has dreamed of seeing the Wizard naked, feeling his hands on her, feeling his hot lips on her skin in the most sensitive places.

The man looks lustfully, expectantly, and draws inconceivable circles with the tip of his tongue around the buttons of his mantle, twitching his fingers deliberately hard and exposing the snow-white skin on his neck.

— So shy, — the man's calloused hand stroked her cheekbones, tucking the straight strands of hair in her loose ponytail behind her ear.

— I want you to leave, — the girl grasps the collar of his blue mantle with trembling hands, glancing bashfully around the taut fabric of the man's pants.

— Look into my eyes, you little liar, — he kissed her naked neck tenderly, and then covered her in stinging bites. — And tell me you don't want to sleep with me, — he tugged at the rest of the buttons on her chest, making them fly across the floor. And he groans loudly when he sees her naked, lush, bra-less breasts with erect nipples pierced with tiny gold earrings in the shape of tiny hearts.

The man covers his eyes and covers her heaving breasts with his palms, his fingers clutching her earrings. Christine wraps her leg around his body and tilts her head back a little, watching from beneath her lowered lashes for this stunning sight. His cold, thin lips once again cover the skin on her neck and lead wetly to the cleavage below, between her breasts. Sucking, leaving crimson marks, the Enchanter moves to her nipple, pulls the jewel in with his lips and fondles greedily. A sweet languor spreads in Christine's belly, and her underwear becomes unbearably wet.

— Get on your knees, — the low, murmuring order sounds. — You will beg your teacher's forgiveness, — the girl gives the man her childishly innocent look, but little sparks of defiant flame flare in her green eyes. She knows exactly what he needs, and she's going to give it right now - to tear her own name from her thin, moist lips while the Enchanter's body flutters with passionate, dirty caresses.

She descends all too slowly, circling with her eyes every cell of his body, covered with the scraps of her mantle. When her knees finally touch the old floor and the planks creak, the man exhales in satisfaction. Without breaking eye contact, the girl reaches for the fly of pants and clutches the bump on the cloth defiantly, then pulls the cloth off, along with her boxers, and wraps her fingers tightly around the base of his cock in a tight ring. Gently and unhurriedly Christine runs her fingers up and down, gently pulling the skin away.

— You are my most obedient student, — Stephen reaches out and strokes her chin.

— And how many of them have you had sex with, Mr. Strange? — The recent girlish shyness is gone. A fully confident woman kneels in front of him - controlling him, choking on his loud sighs.

— Apparently, only with you, — the Mage looks directly into green eyes, enjoying the truly stunning sight of his apprentice sucking him off so expertly beneath him.

— Apparently? — She wraps her lips around the foreskin and runs her tongue over the flushed head. Helping herself with her hands, she caresses the frequent protruding veins. The sorcerer doesn't hold back and roughly grabs the girl by the hair, pressing on the back of her head and forcing her to take his cock into her mouth even deeper.

— Uh-oh, you want to go further? — pulling away, she gently runs her hot tongue along the entire length, kissing and nibbling. The sorcerer arches against the enchanting caresses, begging to return to the girl's mouth.

— Shut up, — he moaned, as Christine pressed her lips against his cock again. The girl thrusts her throat all over him, then again, pulling away and sliding her tongue down the thin skin. Stephen feels himself biting his own cheek on the inside until it tastes metallic. He lifts his hips slightly off the table and leads them in a circular motion-so that the head rubs against the palate and then pulls hard against the girl's cheeks.

Christina raises her innocent eyes to him again and reaches out with her hand to her clearly outlined abs, intertwining the fingers of their hands.

When the Wizard's lower abdomen begins to tug with sweet exhaustion and he has no strength left to endure, he grabs the girl by the chin, pulls her to his lips, forcing her to her feet, and tastes herself for the first time.

— Teacher, you didn't let me finish, — the girl runs her hand back and forth over his cock, wet with her saliva, making the man's body ache with already intense desire. He grabs her by the hips, making her wrap her legs around his waist and pulls her to the bed, simultaneously engulfing her hot maiden lips — yes, he needed this, he's needed it for so long.

— We have a problem, — he whispers. — You're still wearing too many clothes, — he pulled the tight fabric from buttocks and squeezed the wet lace between his fingers roughly. It hurts against her skin, making the girl moan into his mouth. The enchanter gently touches her swollen clit and, breaking their kiss, wheezes gutturally. — So wet, and only for me, — Mage slides his fingers inside her, making the walls of her vagina tighten around his palpable scars on her pads.

— Teacher, please, — Christine kisses the man's sweat-wet shoulders, thrusting herself on him with tearing motions.

— Please, what? — He purred into her neck, stroking her breasts with his free hand, squeezing her pierced nipples between his fingers.

— Fuck me already, — asks she, no, begs him to fill the emptiness inside her. Whimpering as he takes his fingers out of her and pushes them deep into her mouth all the way to her throat, sharing the girl's marvelous taste.

— You don't have to ask me twice, — the man turns the girl's back to him roughly, asking her to kneel down in front of him again. And she obeys, obediently arching her back, digging her hands into the pillow.

The enchanter languidly slows, driving his cock around her labia, deliberately tapping the head of her sensitive clitoris. He teases, torments the girl with his own long-desired body.

— Or is it still necessary, — he strokes the snow-white skin on his back, reaches his hand to his head, and wraps his silver hair around his big fist.

— Please, Mr. Strange. I'm begging you, — Christine moaned into her pillow at his torturous manipulation of her body.

He has to be asked twice, definitely. He thrusts inside her with bestial ease, stretching the narrow walls of her vagina, and pulls the woman's breasts away from the pillows, pulling his tail on her arm, making Christine arch her back uncomfortably.

The girl hisses, but gradually the pain of him stretching her dulls. The girl pushes herself against him even more, desperate to devour the Supreme Enchanter whole and utter. Her ass slams against his thighs, and that's when Christina realizes he's too deep inside her.

A million stars flashed before my eyes. Lust clouds the mind, and all that's needed now is his big cock inside, that's all. The girl doesn't care about the rest of the world, about saving humanity or feeding stray animals. She only cares about how fast she can cum, thrusting her whole body on him.

— Is this what you wanted? — The movements become sharp, rough, with a distinctive slapping sound. The mage whispers at her ear, curving her body as only he himself wants, and then slowly sinking kisses into the curve of her neck.

— Definitely, Teacher, — the girl wiggled her hips in time with his confident movements, clutched around him with her whole body and dug her fingers into the fabric of the pillow with wild force.

— No, it doesn't work that way. I need longer, — the man gets out of her in a hurry and turns her over onto her back. — I need to see your face, — he pulls Christine's body sharply closer, and puts the maiden's leg on his shoulder. He enters quickly, not even letting her get used to the new sensations, tucks her other leg at the knee, slides his hands over her body and presses hard on her belly, wanting to feel the rhythm of his movements inside her.

— Can you feel it? — his cock is clearly felt almost in the middle of stomach, making girl gasp and faint with pain and passion.

He fucks her with animal savagery, with daring lust, bringing more and more loud moans from her biting lips.

His hands painfully squeeze the maiden's thighs. His pace punishes her for her misconduct rather than gives her pleasure.

He controls every movement, so that Christine can barely breathe or see clearly — she is like a little rag doll that the man can use as roughly as he pleases.

The charmer cuts off all men before and after him.

His outburst of dominant energy makes the girl moan loudly. With each new movement, her hips flex in ways the girl would never have thought possible, offering new depths of pleasure, appealing to a primal, incomparable pleasure.

A few more rough thrusts and her orgasm overwhelms Christine, and the satisfied face of the Magician hides behind a white veil before her eyes. The girl screams loudly, digging her nails into his big back, and millions of sharp needles pierce her body.

— Let me cum too, honey, — the man's hand grabs the girl's throat, presses against her larynx, and cuts off her attempts to breathe normally. Christina shrinks to the point of asphyxiation.

Steven moves too fast, thrusting his hips roughly and pressing his other hand on her wet clit. He moans loudly and pours his entire animal gut right inside Christine. And then, dropping his head onto the girl's chest, he whispers venomously and intermittently:

— If you tell a single soul about this, I will hurt you very badly.