The True Ascension-Chapter 38: Teaching a lesson (R18)

"Then come, my dear Isis," said Astrid with a mischievous smile, her lips still glistening with provocation. "But remember... he’s still under my care."

Isis returned the gaze with a golden gleam in her eyes, as if accepting the challenge.

"Sharing, I can do. But yielding... never."

"Hehe, we’ll see then," Astrid laughed, rising with feline grace, leaving Aziz’s lap with an elegant glide. She settled beside him, her white hair cascading over her shoulders like liquid silk, making room for Isis to take what she clearly desired.

Without hurry, Isis approached. She sat before him, legs crossed, posture perfect — the embodiment of a woman who had mastered the game from the first glance. Her body radiated a quiet, almost arrogant confidence. Her blood-red eyes didn’t stay on Aziz’s face for long; they slowly descended, like someone admiring a living work of art, until they stopped at the center of his lap.

The young man’s cock was still pulsing with the fury of youth, standing proud and defiant, as if aware that it was the focus of all attention. A rebellious scepter pointed to the sky. Isis arched an eyebrow, amused by the sight, and her lips curved into a wicked smile.

"My lady had this in her mouth just moments ago, huh..." she murmured with a hungry glint in her eyes, as if speaking to herself — but clearly meant to provoke.

With a light, almost innocent gesture, she poked the tip with her finger, testing its texture like someone checking the ripeness of fruit. The response came instantly.

"Ahh..." sighed Aziz, breath caught by an involuntary shiver. His muscles tensed in a sudden reflex, betraying how sensitive he still was after the climax.

The sound, though soft, was music to Isis’s ears. Her eyes lit up with feline mischief, as if she’d just discovered a new toy that reacted delightfully to the slightest touch. A look of playful wickedness took over her face as she slowly withdrew her finger.

Aziz, frustrated by the loss of contact, narrowed his eyes at her. He was about to protest when he saw her discreetly spit into one hand, then rub both palms together, spreading the moisture. Her movements were slow, sensual, calculated to maintain control of the scene. The gentle sound of her wet, warm hands sliding against each other filled the room with tension.

*Gulp.*

Aziz swallowed hard. His body leaned subtly forward, as if instinctively seeking her touch. Isis noticed. Her smile widened — sadistic, dripping with wicked intentions.

She slowly brought her hands toward his cock, but stopped less than an inch away. Her fingers hovered in the air, and her eyes danced with amusement. The gesture was pure sadism wrapped in charm.

"If my young master pleads sweetly and with love," she sang, "then, even against my will, I might do you that favor." Her provocative gaze seemed to pierce straight into Aziz’s soul.

His face hardened. He was genuinely irritated. Each day, Isis became more daring, more playful... more cruel. The temptation to surrender was nearly as strong as the will to resist.

He clenched his teeth, his jaw tightening with internal conflict. Swallow his pride or go without what he craved? The choice, though painful, was obvious.

"... Isis, my maid, who should have my well-being as her top priority... p-please, continue what you were about to do," he said through gritted teeth, his voice thick with frustration.

"HEHEHE... As a beautiful and perfect maid, I shall honor your plea, young master~," she replied, grinning from ear to ear like a child who had just won a game.

Finally, her hands wrapped around his (member). Her fingers glided over it with firm yet tender care, spreading the moisture along its length. She started slow, pulling the foreskin up and down in a nearly hypnotic rhythm, eyes fixed on every nuance of his reaction.

’Big, thick, and so hot...’ Isis thought, enchanted by the contrast between his youthful body and the raw force pulsing beneath his skin. Even for someone with centuries of life, she found herself surprised by his vigor.

Aziz closed his eyes. Every movement of her hands seemed to ignite a new fire inside him. Heat gathered at the base of his abdomen and spread like sweet poison through his veins. His breathing grew heavier, chest rising and falling with urgency.

"Kuuh..." The sound escaped his throat, hoarse and tense. Her touch seemed to trigger every nerve, his body arching with each stroke of her fingers.

"You like this, don’t you?" Isis asked, her voice dripping with wicked delight. "You love my hands, don’t you, my young master? Say it or I’ll stop."

"Y-yes... I love... mmmh..." Aziz admitted, voice trembling with pleasure.

"But, haaah... there’s something I want now..." he murmured between gasps. "I want to feel your hot, wet mouth around my cock."

"Oh really?" She raised a brow, feigning surprise. "Then I have no choice, huh? But first... ask me sweetly and I’ll do it~"

"Tch... Isis... mmmh... suck my cock, please."

"Hehe, of course. All for the sake of my beloved young master," Isis replied, stopping her strokes with a final squeeze before slipping off the bed. She knelt in front of him with elegance — a vision of submission that contrasted deliciously with her dominant personality.

Aziz watched her with narrowed eyes. His blood pounded in his ears, heartbeat echoing like war drums. It was impossible to ignore Isis’s beauty at that moment: the black nightgown clinging to her body like a second skin, her hair framing her face perfectly, and that gaze... as hungry as it was submissive.

He turned toward her and pointed his erect cock at her flawless vampiric face.

Staring at her, something grew inside him. A strange, almost violent desire to see her completely undone by pleasure. To see that perfect face overtaken by expressions of lust, surprise, and surrender — all caused by him.

Moved by that impulse, Aziz gripped the back of Isis’s neck firmly and pulled her toward his pelvis. His hot, pulsing cock brushed against the pale curves of her cheeks.

*Snnnnif.*

Isis inhaled deeply, drinking in the raw, wild, masculine scent of him. It was strong, musky, unmistakable. She moaned softly, savoring each nuance, eyes half-closed in delight.

"So... are you just going to rub your (member) on my pretty face, or do you have something more in mind~?" she teased, opening her mouth and slowly licking the tip.

That was the final straw. Aziz, patience worn thin, decided to teach the cheeky vampire a lesson.

’Just wait, my dear. You’ll learn soon enough,’ he thought, smiling internally.

"Then open your mouth. Now."

"Hm... only if you beg—"

She didn’t get to finish. Before she could continue her little game, Aziz moved. He shoved his cock between her lips with firm intent, cutting off her words.

"Quiet. Now it’s my turn to take the lead," he said in a deep voice. "I’m going to teach you a little lesson, you sadistic little vampire."

With both hands on the back of her neck, he pushed himself in all the way, sliding in mercilessly until he hit her throat.

"Cough~ mmmmh~" Isis coughed and moaned, swallowing him as best she could, muffled sounds echoing from her sealed lips. Her throat tightened around him, trying to adjust to the sudden, intense intrusion.

"Uhhhh..." Aziz groaned, feeling the heat of her mouth, the pressure of her throat squeezing him in an intoxicating way. The sensation was so good, so intimate, that he nearly lost control right then and there.

But he held on. For the first time, he was the one leading — and he wasn’t about to give that up anytime soon.

He kept his hands steady at the back of her head, fingers pressing lightly into the base of her skull as she tried to breathe. It wasn’t brute force — it was absolute control. He wanted her to understand — to *feel* — that in that moment, he was in charge.

He gently pulled her head in closer, guiding her until her face was pressed entirely against his groin. Her lips kissed the base of his cock, her nose buried in the hot, throbbing skin. It was as if he wanted her to worship him with her entire face. A deep, rough moan escaped his throat, sinful and full of pleasure.

"Ahhh... that’s it..." he murmured, closing his eyes for a moment, savoring the feeling. The heat of her mouth, the tightness of her throat, the wet muffled sounds and involuntary movements — it made his whole body pulse with growing waves of ecstasy.

But he still wasn’t done.

A hotter, more primal desire burned inside him — a conscious impulse to push both his limits and hers. To prove he was no longer the timid boy those two women once led... but a man who could make even a three-hundred-year-old vampire submit to his will.

With his eyes still half-lidded, he ran his hands through Isis’s silky black hair, feeling every strand slide between his fingers. Then he tightened his grip, wrapping the hair around his hand with control. In a firm motion, he pulled her head back slowly, making his cock slide out of her mouth until only the tip rested on her parted lips.

*Pop.*

The wet, soft sound of separation filled the room, followed by a thin strand of saliva stretching from the head to her tongue.

Aziz opened his eyes and looked directly at her. There was something in his smile — a predatory glint, wicked and assured, the look of someone who understood the thrill of control.

Even with her ragged breath, Isis didn’t lose her teasing air. Her eyes narrowed with amusement, and the corner of her mouth lifted in a daring smile.

"That’s all you’ve got, my young ma—"

She didn’t get the chance to finish. As before, Aziz thrust forward again with full force, pushing his cock back down her throat until she gagged. A muffled, choked sound followed — but she didn’t pull away. On the contrary, her gaze intensified, ignited, as if she loved being challenged like that.

"Quiet," he murmured, voice low and rough. "Now you’ll learn not to provoke your master."

And then, he began.

He moved his hips back and forth in a growing rhythm, using her mouth like a living toy. Wet sounds filled the room: *slap, glup, hnn*, with each deeper thrust, her hair bouncing with every motion.

She looked up at him with teary eyes, but never surrendered. Her gaze seemed to ask: *Is that all you’ve got?*

Aziz felt the control flood his veins like liquid fire. Every thrust was a declaration, a response to Isis’s boldness, a raw demonstration of desire and authority. He was molding that wicked vampire to the rhythm of his lust.

Astrid, seated nearby, watched the scene with the serenity of an ancient goddess. What might have seemed scandalous to others, to her was just another dance of bodies and wills.

Her sky-blue gaze lingered on them with an enigmatic smile on her lips. She said nothing. She didn’t interrupt. She simply watched — like someone witnessing a storm brewing on the horizon, curious to see just how far the winds would dare to blow.

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