I Create a Sex Cult in Another World? Episode 3

Ep 3: I Get My First Follower in Another World?

*~~Authors~~* *Pervert’s Note: I am so sorry for the delay!! Here’s an extra long chapter full of a lot of smut with a musclegirl. I hope you enjoy! Links to previous chapters in the comments, feedback very welcome! I’m working on adding more emotion and sensation (and dialogue) to all the action I normally have going on, I hope it shows! I have about another chapter’s worth of where this leaves off, then… who knows! Suggestions/requests welcome!*

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The caravan of oddities didn’t stop until night had well and truly fallen. By then, the novelty of being sexy and caged had thoroughly worn off. I had become cold, sore, and grumpy and I was far from alone in that sentiment. Complaints came from the cabin that were staunchly ignored by our demoness leader. They came every ten minutes like clockwork, from a different occupant each time.

Now that we’d come to a stop, the complaints turned to the choice in location.

“Dreadful dark,” the older woman tittered, “Might I expect to be robbed any moment, Lady Morasia?”

From what I gathered in brief chats with the pink triclops-made-normal, Cerya, this woman was named “Miss Beau”, a financier from a nearby city. She carried herself steadily, with a straight back and a stern glint in her eye that held no airs. Dark eyebrows stood out starkly to her pale skin and austerely drawn-back silver hair.

“You do not.” Morasia stated and turned away to bark orders to the other knights.

By her side, a set of triplets orbited anxiously. They were all perfectly identical, short, slim but wide on the hips, with pert lips and eager eyes. The only difference was how their long strands of thin, black-and-yellow hair was styled; a matching bun to their mistress, a braided ponytail, or freely cascading over their thin shoulders.

“Don’t worry, Miss Beau!” Braid announced, taking a heroic pose, “Protecting you is my life!”

“…Yes…” Beau responded, nonplussed, and the group moved past my cage towards a tent being set up by Greyhart and a team of hirelings. I watched them gather as Morasia held her hand out to a stack of wood and it burst into flame. I marveled for a moment at the casual use of magic, something apparently everyday, though no one else reacted at her spellwork. The crystal dragon creature, spindly and delicate, settled down near the fire and when it became still. It appeared as though a natural spire of quarts.

“BOO!” A voice suddenly shouted from behind me and my vision filled with stars as I rammed my head into the wooden ceiling, only a few inches over my head while seated. I dropped down to lay on my side, rubbing at the flashing lights in my eyes while the sound of frantically jangling keys fills the air. Cerya repeatedly stammered “Sorry! Sorry sorry sorry!”

I feel the cart tilt slightly as the tall, muscular woman stepped into the back, through the open door. A calloused hand at my hip slid me closer. She leaned over me and moved my hand to inspect the injury. The stars clear quickly and I glance up to find my nose nearly brushing hers.

Our breaths both caught as we drank in each other’s faces with a rush of darting looks. It was like a dam had broken, like a barrier from looking too closely at the other had burst and now we were free to swirl our gazes across an endlessly intriguing face.

Cerya was too roughly-hewn to be considered beautiful by most conventional standards. A healed, but twisting scar traveled from the corner of the third eye on her forehead to her earlobe, making a stop to dip under her eyepatch. Her proud roman-esque nose and her jutting lower jaw framed a set of four tusks. Each tusk poked out from thin lips. tusks that curved away from her face, two pointed up, two down. All this in the delicate pink of strawberry milk. Despite the tough exterior, her panicked voice fluttered between stressed tones while her cheeks turned purple.

“Sorry!” She blurted out, then jerked a thumb over her shoulder, “The Lady said to ask if you… needed…” She trailed off, trying to think of euphemisms for bodily functions and finally ending on a weak “… forest.”

As I had said, I didn’t have to wait long for my chance.

“Oh! Yes, thank you!” I responded, then followed her to the door of the cage eagerly. She seemed relieved to not have to explain further and hopped down onto the road. I got to the door, but stopped short to eye the ground. She stepped back out of the way, then eyed me hesitantly.

In response, I sat at the edge and wiggled my toes in the air. My feet were so small, it was strange how… feetlike they were – not some huge paddles that I had to awkwardly bump across the ground on. I spoke up before my reverie was mistaken for intention, “I don’t have shoes! I can’t walk out there into the forest barefoot, can I?”

Cerya’s face took a wild journey as she considered the possibilities. First considering why I couldn’t, then if she should get me shoes, if she should lock me up first, who might have shoes that would fit me, why she was going so far for just another poacher – I stopped her thoughts dead in their tracks with a single motion.

I raised all four of my arms towards her, hands splayed with palms towards her. I thrust my chest forward, letting the elbows on my lower arms push my boobs up and together towards her. I raise an eyebrow and tilt my head down to give as much innocence to the request as I could – possibly laying it on too thick.

“Would you mind carrying me?”

That was all she needed. Blue blood rushed through her body, flushing her cheeks a deep purple, and she let out a huff through her nose. I swear I could see steam in the air. She took a quick step forward, then scooped me up with my back in the crook of one of her arms, my knees hung over the other.

I, in turn, wrapped an arm over her shoulder and another around her neck, which allowed me to tuck my head against her collar. My other arms wrapped around me, the higher of the two pushing my own chest into her view in a way that I prayed was subtle.

We got over the thorny bushes in a few long steps that caused a tidal wave of jiggles to ripple through my body. Still unfamiliar parts of me weighed heavy when Cerya stepped and felt thrillingly light when she strode. She moved purposefully and continuously away from the camp. I waited for her to stop within sight of the campfire, but the crunch of leaves underfoot continued.

I glanced over her shoulder as she took us up a hill, then turned slightly to check her face – only to find her already watching me. She came to a stop at the top of the hill and I felt her hand shift on my back, tilting me so we could look eye to eye. Her face had become a pop-art piece of colour as she opened her mouth, steeling herself to ask me something very important to her.

I don’t give her the chance.

I lean in, curling the arm around her shoulder to pull her closer, my palm on the corner of her strong jaw. I can feel a gentle helping of peach-fuzz on her cheek that tickles my fingertips. Her skin was warm and smooth and smelled like the warm flavors of autumn. Spices and squash and fresh grass and dry leaves.

And then, we kissed.

It’s awkward at first. I had been great at kissing exactly one person in my life, so learning the idiosyncrasies of this perfect stranger’s lips took longer than expected. Her lips were opened when I took the dive and I ended up kissing her teeth first, then ricocheted off of her tusks in an overeager overcorrection.

She was too stunned to react, so I went on the attack again. I struggled to quell the voices screaming in my mind that I had totally misread the situation. Instead, I double down, bringing the upper hand from my opposite arm to cup her chin – though it’s mostly to stabilize my target. I tense again, bending at the waist and lifting my back away from her arm to bring my lips to hers. This time, contact is successfully made and we stand suspended in the moment, unsure which way this will tip.

Then she suddenly comes alive. Her hand comes up to my back again, then she slides it further down my side, towards my hip. Her grip is strong and surprisingly sure. She enveloped me in her arms, a hand at my cheek to mirror mine. She tilts her head just slightly to one side and with that, the kiss falls into place. From simply pressing lips together to passionately making out in one simple motion.

A soft moan slips into the air, but from whose lips it escaped from, I couldn’t say. The tusks quickly became a non-issue as she used them to subtly push against my cheek. She guided my head to lay against her shoulder. My hand on her chin releases, sliding down her neck to rest weakly on her collarbone. I feel slightly helpless, cradled in strong arms and covered by a curtain of thick hair.

I can feel a steady duel-rhythm under my fingertips with my hand resting on her chest. I spread my hand flat and under my palm, almost inexplicably, I can feel life itself. More real than I’d ever felt before, I could feel her heart(s?) working furiously, could feel her chest rising sharply as our breath came more frantic, and could even feel her trembling slightly. With each kiss that the giantess firmly passed to my plush lips my skin grew hotter, almost itching to feel her calloused fingers brush over it. To hold it. To grip me.

Each kiss tasted like cloves and cinnamon and a spice called ‘love’…. or at least, ‘unripened, likely unhealthy infatuation’. It was new, barely planted, but I could taste the intoxicating flavor on her breath in that same, miraculous way that I could feel and understand the looks that people cast across my skin. It was more than a feeling, it was a literal sensation unlike any other.

She turned slowly on the spot, dropping a knee to gently sweep me towards the ground. I tried to keep the kiss consistent through the motion, but I had to gasp in surprise as I found myself gently set into the wettest, coldest grass in either world. I flail slightly, arching my back and twisting my hips away from it, but a devilishly wicked look came into Cerya’s eyes. She grinned as her broad forearms tensed and she pressed me back into the grass – one hand on my navel, the other arm across my shoulders.

I cry out and look indignant, but between the shock of the cold, the nearness of her face once again, and the strange thrill I got in knowing how strong she was, I could feel my body reacting in ways I was still unfamiliar with.

She let go suddenly with a bark of laughter and I threw my entire weight towards her shoulders the instant I was free. She obliged me and rolled onto her back in the wet grass before pulling me to her chest in a tight hug. It was incredible how comfortable she had already become with me – and I her – as we rested there, me laying on top of her, fully at ease.

A rough hand gently pressed against my shoulder and my breath caught in my throat. It slid down the curve of my back, which I began to arch reflexively. The touch tickled, but I could hardly bear to break the light contact. Her fingers brushed along my spine in that dimple at the small of my back and it caused me to give a shuddering sigh without thought.

I could feel her chuckle more than I heard it, and could feel her half-lidded gaze on me. It slowly wound over my curves and corners with admiration that turned to curiosity. She lingered on my shoulder, then followed her fingers down my back, tracing a pattern I couldn’t follow.

Cerya’s hand slid down my side, then flowed over my hip to cup my ass. In a partner of average size, each cheek would be a double handful due to my venusian metamorphosis, but she gets each in one hand and gives me a healthy squeeze. She uses the motion to further push me up her body, creating a perfect opportunity to lean into another kiss. I can’t help rolling my hips with her massage, eager to chase the electricity that passed from her skin to mine.

This time, though, the kiss was accompanied with a series of my staccato moans that reach a crescendo when a percussive slap rings out through the small clearing. A sudden sting from my butt causes me to stiffen, but the buzzing feeling left afterwards pleasantly diffuses throughout my body in moments. It leaves me aching for another and she obliges without being asked, her other hand lifting away and hovering a moment for dramatic tension before clapping down and sending a quaking shiver through my flesh.

I pull myself away from the kiss with a gasp and push off of her shoulder to get upright. My knees barely scraped the cold grass as I straddled her broad chest. I couldn’t remember when I had gotten hard, but now my thick member tapped her tightly bound breasts like a metronome. Her eyes followed my tip and it seemed almost trance-like how she reached up to grip my hips.

Something flickered to life inside me in that moment, another mind that overlapped my own, infusing me with confidence and knowledge in daring acts I’d never tried in my last life or world or in reality or… whatever. It felt deep, infinite even, like every enjoyable sexual act ever done in history, in the galaxy, existed just outside my head. It felt like a god.

You could make a religion out of this feeling. I hadn’t realized it at the time, but time would prove it all too true.

The feeling, the “god”, did not take me over or compel me in any way. It didn’t feel… opinionated or driven. It simply was, and what it was was full of experience, emotion, and an overwhelming sense of caring. Yet, in the tide of sex that washed in, I felt the memory of that blowjob in the park fade away, lost in the sea of smut.

I put all four of my hands on her wrists, staying her before she could wander my body. She glanced up at me, eyebrows rising as she tried to read my expression. I tilted my head imperiously and quietly whispered;

“Strip.”

The word seemed to wash over the oni like magic, though I was sure there was no power like the wondrous senses I’d experienced before. She nodded slowly, then quickly as the concept sunk in.

Cerya began to pick at her warrior’s chest bindings, then she started to pull at them, lifting her torso to pass the bandage below her. My cock drummed against her chest with each buck and I had to brace myself against her raised knees behind me to stay seated. Each time my tip tapped her tits, the impact landed on a softer surface.

After barely halfway through the arduous process, she paused and slid her arms under my legs and out of sight. She bucked once and I pulled hard on the material at her knees, happy to help her free of her armored leggings. She returned to unwrapping herself and I leaned back to rest my shoulders on her knees. I let a hand blindly slide down the inside of the thigh that supported me, delicately following tiny scars and stretch marks from years of growth and battle.

The effect was instant. Her groan grew rougher with each inch traveled and her jaw jut out sharply when I curved my fingers in to draw my nails over strawberry skin. With her burly form and my own anatomy as evidence to the possibility, I half expected to be intercepted by an eager penis in my descent between her thighs. To my surprise, I found my palm pressed to her mons and a pair of fingers slid even further. I curled my hand and drew my fingers up, the motion pulling with it a shudder that rattled her muscles and escaped her lips in a gentle sigh.

I leaned forward and squeezed her sides with my legs, pressing her down into the grass. I turned my head and gently kissed her collar bone. She stopped working at her bindings, a soft “y-yes…” escaping her lips. I kiss it again, then lightly pinch the bone between my lips. I kissed the crook of her neck, then higher, where her neck thinned out into a long muscle. I bit lightly and she squirmed. I carefully shifted my hands to press into her chest.

The sarashi, a word that floated to my head in a mix of animated colours and soda-scented memories, barely covered any of her ample skin anymore. Her breasts were even warmer than her jaw, softer than her thigh, plusher than any other part of her body.

She arched her back in a wave under me and I slid down her. I dragged all four of my hands down her as I went, nails creating dark pink lines in sets of five. By the time I stop, I have a handful of bindings and a face full of huge, pink boobs that were criss-crossed with deep, dark-pink lines. The print left by the bindings created a texture that I couldn’t help giggling over as I nuzzled into her chest.

I followed the lines up the curve of her chest with my lips, gently massaging her skin with big, gulping kisses. It was a surprise when my lips closed on a fat nipple – I had expected to notice the change to areola. I opened my eyes and leaned back, though I refused to let go of said nipple. Large rouge circles faded in to cap her boobs, each areola larger than my hand. The muscle underneath caused each to tilt towards her navel, but also kept her chest remarkably firm. Where I wobbled and jiggled, she bounced and swayed. The juxtaposition of her rough parts and soft parts, both physical and in her actions, only made me want to explore her further.

Before I could, Cerya wrapped her arms over me with a hand at the back of my head pressing me suffocatingly close. Autumn fills my brain and I’m suddenly aware of how much I want to be inside her. She seemed to agree, as she leaned in to kiss the top of my head and quietly muttered into my hair to please, please fuck her.

Without speaking, I reached one of my lower two hands down and gripped my shaft. I give it two healthy pumps as I reposition myself. She wouldn’t let my face free of her cleavage, as though now that she had worked so hard to free it for me, I had better appreciate it. I did of course, but it made the task of lifting my legs over her hips and then under her thighs a challenge.

My other lower hand slid down her taut belly, appreciating a series of bumps along her abs before reversing my hand position and sliding a pair of fingers back inside of her, more to guide my blind head than anything else. I felt her tense and she raised herself off of the ground, so that I could slide my thighs under hers. The god in my head radiated approval and I felt it ease off to let me flounder in my inexperience.

I scooted forwards and felt a warm, soft pressure on the tip of my cock. We both tensed as my hand guided it awkwardly, unsure of the angle on a girl almost a foot taller than me. The tension grew as I slipped upwards, flicking over her clit and drawing out a gasp that resonated through her chest. I then slid my dick downwards, experimentally poking away. She was about to give an instruction when I felt my tip suddenly awash in a satisfying warmth. We both gasp, her voice suddenly flutey as she says my name. I don’t remember telling her, yet she still trills “Wanda!”

I pull my hips back experimentally and there’s a hiccup in her breath as I pop out of her, then another as I press my tip back in. I do it once more and she growls, vibrating her soft flesh against my cheeks. I was never good at heading warnings, and I tease her with the tip once more.

With a snarl, strong knees hook against my side and her feet press into my butt. She pushes me in and we both have to take a moment in stunned silence as my hips crash into her ass, driven from tip to top in one quick thrust. The god returns, its amusement distracting, but its guidance, welcome.

She reacts first. She arches her back, one hand shooting out to rip at the grass, the other firmly clamped over her own mouth. A wave of pleasure visibly washes up her body as she arches and wriggles while silently screaming into her palm. I slip free of her suffocating cleavage, my lips dragging numbly across her skin as my attention zeroes in on my cock.

In the back of my head, the ideas of size differences and tightnesses and the new “fatness of my cock” all danced about my head – concerns on how good the sex might be. Those thoughts, a misogynistic concept that just because she was so tall, that she was strong, semi-masculine in expression – the worry that that would somehow make her “loose”, were dissolved in a moment. Quite the contrary, in fact.

We stayed locked as we were, my penis clamped at maximum depth as she silently tossed back and forth on the grass. I leaned back to enjoy her, to squeeze a swaying boob as it passed by and draw the nails of all four hands along her toned sides. She looked down at me with only her half-lidded forehead-eye. She bit her lip to keep herself from crying out.

But more than an objective, vice-like squeeze was the feeling that sex transcended the contact of those organs. I wrapped all four arms around her, hugging around the small of her back, my lips kissing her belly or breasts or palms or lips. Whatever she brought to me, I blessed with passionate appreciation. I bucked my hips a few times, but it was awkward and caused her breasts to bounce into her face rather than stimulate her in any way.

We readjusted so that we both kneeled, but she still lay on her back, only contacting the ground with her knees, feet, shoulder blades, and the wild explosion of hot-pink curls that framed her face. A pair of my arms remained around her, hugging her so that I could keep her close, feel her shivers and shudders right under my face.

My other pair wrapped under her thighs and cupped her toned butt to lift the pink oni, so that I could keep a steady rhythm. As I lifted, she relaxed. What just was a burning-hot vice became a soft, smooth, slick embrace… a… a…

Poetics on the wonders of being inside of Cerya fell into a white void of pleasure as I lost myself in fucking her. I thrust with a flick of my hips, rotating them forward until the slap of our thick thighs rang through the clearing. She responded with eager vocalizations the harder I trust and so thrust harder I did.

I moved from holding her ass up to wrapping her thighs in a hug, my boobs pinched together as I struggled to keep her legs apart. She had a habit of curling up as shivers ran through her body, which kept my tits from pummeling me in the face while I enthusiastically humped away, but also made her slide up the hill so that I had to keep shuffling forward on my knees. My other hands had moved from hugging her waist to ferociously gripping her hips.

The moans that were so coming forth so readily before hush, so focused were we both on the comfortable clouds of pleasure pressing in around us. There was no time to think about speaking, no space in our heads to worry about fondling.

Then, like the sun breaking through a storm, a high pitched tone escaped Cerya’s lips. She hummed the steady note as she shuddered, her whole body tensing tighter and tighter. Her thighs shook like timbers in high wind in my arms and she had handfuls of earth clutched in her grip. As suddenly as it had appeared, the note dissipated into a gasp. I could feel the orgasm awakening under her skin, almost ready to break free. I leaned in again to kiss her sternum. My lips fluttered across her body. Now I was shivering.

“Cerya!” I mumbled into her torso, my voice shaky and fried with the adrenaline coursing through my body. She tried to respond, but was cut off by a shouting moan as the orgasm finally breaks loose.

She pulled me in. She wrapped her strong arms and legs around me and her hands aimlessly roamed my back. Her face nearly vanished into her hair with her craned neck, and she nearly choked on her own breath when I ran my fingers over the tensed muscles. I can barely pull out an inch with how tightly she holds me in that moment.

After what felt like a full minute, her grip loosened. The minute it does, I’m back to furiously humping, as yet unsatisfied.

“P-please!” She mutters breathlessly, a soft laugh in her tone, her two good eyes half-lidded and wandering my face and the sky. Her fingers lazily brush my cheek. “G-give me a m-moment to catch my…!”

I thrust deep into her once more, then pause there. We both pant heavily

“I usually… do a bit more of the leading with… cute girls…” She huffs and aimlessly tangles her fingers in my hair. Something about it made me lean into her touch. I inhaled deeply and my cock eagerly pulsed. A soft hiccup in her breath let me know she absolutely felt it. She met my eyes and I raised a doubtful eyebrow to her statement. “It’s… different. You’re… different.”

I smirked, but said nothing, and settled my face against her chest. “Wanda I… I think…”

She stammered to a halt and we waited there for several long moments, drinking each other in with a wonder. She was so strong, yet melted like butter in a few kisses… and came so quickly. Even now she had a blush that was so unlike her muscular form, and yet… so… cute!

Unconsciously, my dick pulsed once more as I appraised her and she spoke, as though in response.

“I think….” She said, propping herself up on her elbows, then looked up to check the moon’s position. She bit her lip, then nodded to herself. She looked at me with a wicked twinkle in her eyes. “I think I’m ready to keep going!”

Source: reddit.com/r/Erotica/comments/tfaddr/i_create_a_sex_cult_in_another_world_episode_3