The True Ascension-Chapter 36: O Vínculo Silencioso (R18)

Astrid, who at some point had stopped kissing him, now rested her head gently on Aziz’s shoulder, as if that casual gesture concealed an entire universe of silent intentions. Her eyes, half-lidded and calm, observed everything unfolding before her like a carefully choreographed play. The smile on her lips was enigmatic—subtle, restrained, yet filled with a mischievous kind of pleasure. She didn’t intervene. Didn’t say a word. She simply watched.

Like a goddess admiring her altar, Astrid was there—present and omniscient—while Isis carried out the climax of a performance that clearly hadn’t been improvised. The way she moved, the way she halted the pleasure at the very last second, the way she withdrew triumphantly toward the bed... it all had an almost cruel precision, as if it had been rehearsed before. And perhaps, it had.

Because the look in Astrid’s eyes wasn’t one of surprise.

It was the look of someone who knew. Someone who had allowed it. Or worse... someone who had planned it all.

It was, after all, a lesson.

A small one, aimed directly at Aziz, who now sat motionless, his senses still boiling, trying to understand the exact moment when he’d lost control—if he’d ever had it at all.

Well...

Jealous women are no joke.

Especially when those women are Astrid—his mother, the one who raised him with quiet devotion, who knows his impulses, hesitations, and weaknesses better than he knows them himself... And Isis, his lover, his ever-devoted maid, whose unwavering loyalty doesn’t stop her from being deliciously sadistic when she feels the need to teach. A woman who, even in silence, sees what others miss. Who watches everything. And acts with precision.

The two of them didn’t need to exchange words. Not in front of Aziz, at least. It was as if a silent pact had been made between them—a subtle alliance born from exchanged glances and a mutual, unspoken understanding.

And he, without even realizing, had become the centerpiece of that psychological game. The subject of the experiment. A body and mind put to the test.

Isis seduced, provoked, retreated.

Astrid watched, allowed, approved.

And Aziz... fell.

Now, with the room bathed in a soft penumbra, only the sound of Isis’s breathing and the eloquent silence of Astrid filled the space. Aziz could still feel his body in flames, his mind lost in a labyrinth of frustration and unfulfilled desire. What had just happened wasn’t merely a physical provocation. It had been an emotional trial. An invisible mark he knew he would never forget.

Slowly, with his muscles still tense, he turned his gaze to Astrid. She was still there, serene, resting on his shoulder, her eyes now closed, but the smile still present—a smile not of mockery, but of wisdom.

It was as if she were saying, without moving her lips:

"Learn, my dear. Seduction is not only in the touch... it lies in the control to stop."

Aziz swallowed hard.

A chill ran down his spine.

He was no longer sure which of the two dominated him more. But he was beginning to understand that both were shaping him—in their own way, in their own time, with intentions he might only grasp much later.

And for now... he had no choice but to accept it.

Accept that, that night, he had been gracefully defeated.

And that his defeat had been planned... by two women who knew exactly what they were doing.

"So... shall we sleep now, my love, or are you uncomfortable down there?" Astrid said with a mischievous smile on her lips, her voice sounding like a soft whisper laced with provocation. The silent tension that hovered in the room shattered like cracked glass—at least from her side. Aziz, on the other hand, was still trying to process everything that had happened so far, his face slightly flushed, his body still reacting to the stimuli that, though subtle, had been intense.

"I... haaah... to be honest, it’s a bit uncomfortable..." he replied, letting out a sigh that mixed exhaustion and embarrassment, his eyes avoiding hers for a few seconds. His tone was hesitant, but honest. He didn’t exactly know how to behave in that situation, especially with the provocative—almost maternal—way Astrid was wrapping around him.

"Hmm... is that so? And how can we solve that, then?" she replied, her tone dropping into something even more suggestive as she hugged him tighter. Her hands, once resting calmly on his back, began to move in slow circles, descending inch by inch until they reached Aziz’s defined abdomen.

Her touch wasn’t invasive, but it was firm and deliberately provocative. Her fingers traced gentle lines over his warm skin, drawing invisible paths that seemed to ignite every nerve in the boy’s body. It was as if she knew exactly where to touch, how to touch, and what to provoke.

Aziz’s member, which had begun to calm down after the earlier events, didn’t resist the stimulation. Slowly, the pressure began to build again inside his pants, as if that light and intentional touch had rekindled the flame that had barely cooled.

"I-it... it was calming down... it was just a little uncomfortable, but now..." he murmured, glancing downward, staring at the evident bulge forming again with full strength, straining the fabric of his pants in a way that was impossible to ignore.

"Hehe... so now I have to take responsibility for this, right?" Astrid said, her voice sweet and sensual, as she let out a low laugh filled with amusement and intent. Her hands, delicate as feathers, moved confidently toward the center of Aziz’s desire, wrapping around him with affection and firmness.

"Is... is that really necessary?" he asked, his voice wavering, trying to hold back the wave of arousal running through his body like electricity. "I don’t want you to do it just out of a sense of responsibility..."

"My dear... you don’t need to worry about that," Astrid whispered in his ear, her warm breath making him shiver. "As the one who loves you the most, it’s my duty to make sure you’re completely healthy—inside and out..."

As she spoke, she had already begun unzipping his pants with smooth but decisive movements. The sound of the zipper opening seemed to fill the room, reverberating like an inevitable promise. And then, with a gentle tug, what had been hidden was revealed.

Springing forth with force, Aziz’s imposing member appeared—18 centimeters of pure virility, thick and firm, pulsing with hot blood and marked by bulging veins that snaked along its length. The glans, red like a ripe strawberry, pointed proudly at the ceiling, as if proclaiming its pride and potency.

Astrid’s eyes widened in genuine surprise. Even though she already had some idea of what the young man carried between his legs, seeing it up close surpassed any expectations. She couldn’t help but smile—proud and enchanted—as she stared at it. That erect dragon didn’t just represent Aziz’s masculinity, but also the promise of the man he was becoming.

Holding it with both hands, Astrid felt the vibrant heat emanating from it. His member throbbed, as if responding directly to the soft touch of her hands. It was as if his sensitive skin recognized and craved the tenderness of the feminine fingers that surrounded it with such intimacy.

"Haaah... your hand feels so good..." Aziz sighed, his voice thick with the pleasure growing too quickly to be contained. His muscles tensed involuntarily, and his hips trembled slightly, as if begging for more of that stimulation.

"You like it?" she murmured in his ear, her voice dripping with eroticism and affection. "And this... do you like this too?" she added, sliding her hand up and down slowly, feeling every detail of the rigid member beneath her fingers.

"Y-yes... it’s even better than I imagined... please, keep going..." he replied almost without thinking, his breathing quickening. Instinctively, his hips began to move, trying to follow the rhythm of her hand, as if his body had taken over.

"Really? You like it that much?" she teased with a mischievous smile, pressing her ample breasts against his back. Her breasts, still full of milk, were soft and warm, and the direct contact intensified the overall stimulation, making the young man tremble with desire.

The rhythm of her hand increased, now firmer, moving up and down with precision and experience. The friction was perfect—not too hard, not too soft—and the wet sounds that began to echo in the room mixed with Aziz’s sighs and restrained moans.

"Y-yeah... something’s coming... i-it’s about to come out..." he murmured, his breathing ragged, eyes shut as the climax approached with overwhelming force. The heat in his lower belly built up like an explosion ready to happen.

"Then let it out... don’t hold back, my love," Astrid said at his ear, nibbling lightly on it. Her voice was like a spell, and the movements of her hand became even more intense, expertly bringing him to the edge.

"Ah... fuck... I’m cumming!" Aziz cried, losing control completely.

But before the climax could overflow, Astrid acted with impressive agility. She moved quickly in front of him, lowering herself with the grace of an experienced predator. In an instant, her mouth enveloped the head of Aziz’s member, receiving him naturally and hungrily.

Her soft lips closed around the glans, and she began to suck with vigor and devotion, as if savoring something sacred. The hot, moist texture of her mouth was indescribable, and Aziz felt his entire body shudder as he was completely engulfed by that wet, comforting heat.

Instinctively, his hands flew to her long hair, gripping it tightly and guiding her head downward as his hips lifted, pushing deeper. Astrid didn’t resist. On the contrary—she welcomed everything willingly, taking every centimeter into her mouth as if it were her natural role, her pleasurable duty.

With each suck, each muffled moan, she drew not only physical pleasure from him, but also his energy, his tension, his restrained desire. And Aziz, completely surrendered, simply let himself go—eyes shut, body arched—his climax finally manifesting in an intense, hot, and profound release.

And in that silent moment, where only the sounds of movement and sighs filled the air, something became clear between them: there was more than just desire. There was trust, surrender... and a kind of bond that could only be built when two souls connected with intensity.

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