Her eyes adjusted to the moonlight—and her entire body went rigid, a bolt of ice and fire shooting through her veins.

On the other sofa, Viktor had Helena.

But not like Mira had ever seen anyone have someone before. It wasn't love; it was consumption.

Helena was on her hands and knees, her massive ass thrust up high, back arched so deep it looked like her spine might snap—when had that happened? Her uniform, once a symbol of her authority, had been ripped open, hanging in pathetic tatters from her shoulders.

Those huge tits, which she carried with such matronly pride, now swung beneath her like pale, heavy fruit, her nipples dragging raw across the sofa fabric with each brutal impact.

Viktor knelt behind her, his naked, chubby form a stark contrast to the shadows. His soft belly pressed into the upper curve of her ass cheeks.

And beneath that flesh, his cock—impossibly thick, corded with veins, easily twice the girth of Mira's worn wooden dildo—plunged in and out of Helena's cunt with a punishing, relentless rhythm.

Pah! Pah! Pah!

"Hnngh~! Unghh~!! Aaaah~!!!"

The wet, slapping sound of flesh on flesh echoed in the grand hall, obscene and hypnotic. Viktor's hands weren't caressing; they were claiming. His fingers sank deep into the pale globes of Helena's ass, spreading them wide.

Mira saw everything.

The puckered, winking rim of Helena's asshole. The fat, hairy lips of her cunt stretched obscenely, impossibly, around the invading shaft.

Helena's pussy was a ravaged warzone. Swollen, glistening pink folds gripped his cock like a desperate fist, pulling inward greedily with each withdrawal, only to bulge and pout outward when he slammed back in.

A thick, white cream foamed at the base where their bodies met, coating his hairy balls and dripping down Helena's inner thighs in long, glistening strings.

"Hnngh...—Ahh... mphh!" Helena's muffled cries were constant, her face buried in the cushions. One of Viktor's hands was clamped over her mouth, fingers digging into her cheek, while the other mauled her ass, yanking and spreading the flesh as if to get a better view of his work.

Mira could see Helena's face in profile—eyes rolled back into her skull, tears streaming down her temples into her hair, a line of drool leaking from the corner of her mouth where Viktor's palm didn't quite seal it. She looked like a bitch in heat, her body burning from the inside out.

"Ugh... you're getting tighter," Viktor grunted, each word a punctuation to another deep thrust. His hips moved like pistons, that chubby belly jiggling with the raw force of each impact. His cock glistened, slick with her juices, veins bulging as the thick, helmet-like head disappeared completely into her depths before emerging again, freshly coated in her cream.

Mira's hand moved, a traitor to her frozen mind, slipping between her own thighs. She couldn't stop watching.

Helena's tits swung wildly now, slapping together with wet, heavy sounds. Her nipples were raw, angry red—he must have been torturing them earlier—and as Mira watched, horrified and transfixed, a single bead of white liquid formed at one tip.

Milk.

It dripped in a slow, viscous stream, stretching thin before spattering on the dark sofa below.

Viktor suddenly slowed, his breathing heavy. "Helena," he growled, the sound vibrating through her entire body. "Are you not aroused?"

The question was rough, possessive. Helena's body shuddered. "Y-Young Master...!" Her voice was broken. "I... I am... completely aroused...! Please...!"

"Then show me," he commanded, and his pace resumed, even more brutal than before.

Pah pah Pah Pah pah!

"Oooh~! Grrnh~!! Hiiya~!!!"

From her hidden position by the doors, Mira's fingers wrapped tighter around the wooden doll she held, her knuckles white.

Her whole body trembled as she watched.

Her nipples had tightened into painful, aching points against the worn fabric of her dress, two hard points that ached with unwanted arousal.

She pressed her thighs together, feeling a slick, shameful heat building there.

'Lady Helena...' Mira's thoughts were a chaotic storm. 'You told me to know my boundaries... that I wasn't suited to even stand beside a nobleman...'

But there was Helena—the prim, proper woman who had spoken so coldly just half an hour ago—being fucked like a common whore by the very noble she served.

Mira's eyes couldn't look away.

She observed everything—how Viktor's thick cock stretched Helena's pussy lips with each thrust, how the older woman's massive ass rippled with every impact, how her heavy tits swayed beneath her like pendulums.

The wet, squelching sounds filled the hall, undeniable and utterly obscene. Mira's hand moved lower, trembling fingers slipping beneath her skirt to find herself already soaked, her own arousal coating her thighs.

She rubbed her own nub slowly, barely breathing, terrified of being heard but physically unable to stop.

"Before becoming mother, I want you to know how to milk me and leak extra milk when needed," Viktor growled, his hand leaving her mouth to seize a fistful of her hair. He'd been at this for nearly half an hour, punishing her for ignoring him this evening when they'd returned, for not fulfilling her wifely duties.

"Mnghh! Mmphhh! Aahnn—hiekk!" He yanked her head back, arching her spine even deeper. Helena's mouth fell open in a keening wail before she bit it back, remembering the sleeping child nearby.

"Ahh... ahh... young master... please... slow down or they will wake up."

"Then I will fuck her too," Viktor responded by slamming into her even harder.

Pah! Pah! Pah!

His balls swung forward with each thrust, slapping against Helena's swollen clit. The impact made her whole body jerk, fresh gushes of cream squirting around his cock.

'F-fuck me...?' Mira's eyes went wide, her heart hammering against her ribs. Her fingers worked faster between her thighs, rubbing her sensitive clit in small, desperate circles as she watched.

Viktor wasn't done. His free hand reached around, grabbing one of those swinging tits. He mauled it roughly before finding the nipple and twisting it hard.

"MMMPH!" Helena's scream was buried in the sofa cushion. Milk sprayed from the abused nipple, a white arc in the moonlight.

"I never thought you would leak milk so soon," Viktor grunted, twisting harder. The nipple stretched impossibly, dark veins bulging purple beneath the skin as more milk squirted out, pulsing in time with his relentless thrusts.

Mira bit her lip, tasting blood hard enough to force back a whimper. Her fingers moved faster, pressing harder against her clit. She could feel the tension building in her core, shameful and overwhelming.

Then Viktor's voice cut through the air. "Helena," he grunted, his rhythm never faltering. "Do you love my cock?"

Helena's body went rigid. "P-Please... Young Master... don't ask such things...!"

SMACK!

His hand came down hard on her ass, the sound echoing like a gunshot. "As partners," he growled, punctuating each word with a brutal thrust, "we have to be honest. Right?"

Pah! Pah! Pah!

"Nnngh~! Fuuuh~!! Kyaah~!!!"

Her thick ass slapped back against his thighs, the pale globes jiggling, turning a raw pink. He was pounding her now, really driving deep, his cock disappearing completely into her gaping cunt with each stroke.

"Answer me, Helena."

As he pounded into her, the confession began to be ripped from her throat.

Each word was punctuated by the feeling of him, the thick ridge of his cock-head rubbing against the deepest part of her, a raw friction that sent shockwaves of humiliating pleasure through her.

"I...! I...! Ahhnnn!" Her resistance crumbled. "Y-Yes...! Yes, Young Master...! I love it...! I love your cock...!"

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