A Duel Without Honor or Ice Cream (Commission For Barthurs)

	A booming, husky voice bellows out from downstairs.
	“Barthurs! Come downstairs!”
	Barthurs knew that voice well. It was the, “your wife is about to do horrible, horrible things to you” voice. The same voice she would use if, say, her phylactery broke after a callous misstep while cleaning the closet. However, Barthurs knew that Liana's phylactery was well-hidden, and near impossible to knock over unintentionally at this time. He sprinted downstairs.
	Waiting for him at the bottom of the stairs, in the kitchen, was his lich wife, Liana,looking well past the point of peeved, and his adopted zombie dragon daughter, Ketala, on the verge of tears, a half-eaten ice cream bar dangling from her mouth.
	“Care to explain where she got that ice cream bar, Barthurs?” Liana asks, her arms folded in suspicion.
	Barthurs scratched his head. “Well, she's a growing girl, and it's not like she isn't active.” He dodged the question, knowing full-well that it was practically an admission of guilt.
	“I could care less about caloric intake. However, the take-out we ordered is arriving in less than thirty minutes, and here she is, eating ice cream.”
	“Yes, that is what she's doing.”
	“And, as far as I'm aware, Ketala can't reach the shelf in the freezer that the ice cream is on without someone to help her.”
	“What are you getting at?”
	“Did you do it?”
	It was a question delivered as coldly as liquid nitrogen splashed to one's face.
	“Well, yeah.”
	“I figured as much. Which means, I shouldn't punish her. You, on the other hand...”
	“Hey, look, I was just trying to make my daughter happy!”
	“Our daughter. And you could have waited until after lunch. If I remember correctly, that was one of the rules we agreed upon. No sweets before lunch.”
	“Sounds kind of arbitrary when you chug dozens of energy drinks a day.”
	“I rarely have more than four. They're also not desserts.”
	“I dunno, some of them are cotton candy-flavored.”
	“Mom, Dad, stop fighting!” Ketala cries out, her eyes leaking tears down her pale, green face.
	Both parents are quick to rush to their child's side, coddling her back into silence. As they do so, Liana and Barthurs are both shooting each other glances, communicating purely through expression. They've done this many, many times before, even before they adopted Ketala. It was the only way both of them could settle a heated argument, with both parties satisfied. A duel, magic only, starting at sunset.
	The family had a silent lunch that afternoon, with Barthurs and Liana eyeing each other with fierce determination, and Ketala entertaining herself on her phone, trying to ignore the harsh atmosphere her parents were stuffing up the house with. Come sunset, that atmosphere had soured into a stormy, smoldering tenseness that you could hardly ignore, even if you were on another floor of the house.
	With a piece of soapstone, Barthurs drew a line across the floor of the garage, separating him from his wife. “I'm thinking tag this time, no holds barred. I'll be 'it' first, and whoever is 'it' by the time the sun fully sets, loses. Loser has to admit they were wrong, and make dinner.”
	“Did we really have to start in the garage?”
	“Of course. We can't start in the lab, or you'll have an advantage, and if we start upstairs, we'll bother Ketala.”
	“...I see your point. I thought you were foolish, challenging a lich to a magic duel, but you've clearly given this some thought. Perhaps I've underestimated you. Alright, I'm read-!”
	Before Liana could even finish her sentence, Barthurs was rushing toward Liana, a brazen tactic, albeit completely predictable. Suddenly, Barthurs found himself stuck to the floor, mere inches away from his wife, who was smart enough to back out of arm's reach.
	Barthurs sighed. “A glyph of rooting. I should've known.”
	“And here I was, thinking that you had finally learned something. I'll give you some time to reflect on your strategies, and figure out what you want to make for dinner.”
	“You sure you want to leave me here alone?”
	“I've got to get back to work. I'll have something for you to try out tomorrow, so be a good boy and wait.”
	Liana left the garage, mildly smug about her easily-earned victory. She walked into her office-slash-laboratory, where Ketala was peering at demonic vegetables through a microscope, wearing one of Liana's lab coats, which were several sizes too big for her.
	Liana patted her adopted daughter on the back. “So, you want to be a biologist now? What happened to becoming a math teacher?”
	“Math and science are very closely related. Learning one should help me understand the other better, right?”
	“You're right, but also very wrong.”
	“Whaddya mean?”
	“You're very quickly going to find out that a good amount of science is either boring, annoying, or both.”
	“Boring? Annoying?”
	“Yeah. A lot of things are. I like chemistry, though, so I stuck to it.”
	“You like alcohol, too.”
	“Alcohol is a chemical.”
	“And Dad.”
	“I found him through chemistry.”
	“And what if I'm the type of person who finds everything in the world fascinating?”
	Liana ruffles her daughter's fluffy, unkempt hair. “Well, it's not like you're short on time to learn about everything.”
	Ketala giggled at the thought. “Hey, aren't you supposed to be dueling with Dad?”
	“He already lost, so I'm just waiting for the sun to set.”
	“...Does that mean he's in trouble?”
	“Of course not. He'll be making dinner tonight, and after that, it's settled.”
	Ketala let out a sigh of relief. “So, how did you win?”
	“Glyph of rooting. He thought he could rush me down.”
	“Umm, Mom?”
	“What?”
	“Dad can get out of those.”
	Liana's expression turned slightly sour. “Since when?”
	“Since I used it to beat him in a race downstairs. He said he'd give me an ice cream bar if I won, so I went all-out. I thought it would only slow him down, but he was genuinely stuck, and I wanted ice cream, so I showed him how to escape.”
	“Ketala.”
	Ketala knew it was bad news to hear her mother call her by her name like that. She swallowed her fears, and stammered, “Y-yes ma'am?”
	“I assume you never told me this because your father explicitly told you not to?”
	“Y-yes ma'am. Because he said you'd get mad if you found out that I was eating ice cream in the morning.”
	“In the morning, you say?”
	“You're mad, aren't you?”
	“Oh, I am. But, only with your father. There are some lessons men will only learn when you thoroughly punish them, you see.”
	Ketala shrunk away from her mother, who, despite maintaining her usual, cold demeanor, radiated with boiling rage.
	In order to confirm her suspicions, Liana traveled back into the garage. There, she found her glyph of rooting, broken, with hardly any trace of her husband, save for his socks, which she assumed he had used as a material component for the counterspell. Liana felt a tremor in her hands that she hadn't experienced since the day of her marriage. It was nervousness, genuine nervousness. The realization that her husband had taken advantage of her arrogance, and the palpable fear that came with not knowing where on earth her husband could be.
	She returned to the house, paranoia boiling her blood with each passing second. As she entered the living room, she heard the creak of the old sofa setting in, and without even a moment's hesitation, she hurled an arcane bolt at it, the resulting explosion of magical energy flipping the dilapidated fixture onto it's front end.
	“It'll do you no good to hide from me, honey.” Liana coldly declared, flipping over the coffee table with another blast of magic. “Rebuilding this house would be trivial. I'll punch as many holes in the walls as it takes.”
	Ketala peered out from behind a doorway. “Mom?”
	“Not right now, sweetie. I'm trying to find out where Dad is.”
	“Couldn't you just cast a spell to detect life?”
	Ketala's suggestion was more on-the-nose than her mother would care to admit. Liana pressed a finger against her forehead, and focused deeply, tuning in to the natural radiation of life energy that occurs in all living things. She could see her daughter's demonic aura, but her husband's spiritual energy was nowhere to be found. She also sensed two smaller demonic auras just outside the front door to the house.
	“Ah, Morgana and May are back from practice.” Liana remarks, opening her eyes. “Ketala, could you help your sisters carry their tools inside?”
	“Sure.”
	Ketala heads for the front entryway, while Liana heads back into the garage. She looks carefully at the ruined glyph of rooting on the garage floor, before picking up one of Barthurs's socks. A shimmering powder falls from them as they leave the ground, sublimating into a fine fog before it hits the ground.
	“Antimagic powder. Clever. I was wondering why I couldn't detect you. So, where are you hiding?” She asked the air, before heading back inside.

	Ketala was helping her two sisters, another Lich, the only blood-related child of her adoptive mother, Morgana, and a Jiangshi, a fellow adopted daughter, May, carry their magic components and instruments upstairs. As they're unpacking, Morgana shoots a curious, yet radiantly smug glance at Ketala.
	“So,” She starts, elongating the “o” for dramatic effect, “what's got Mom all tensed up?”
	“Is it that obvious?”
	“She practically trashed the living room.”
	“Ah, right. Well, Mom and Dad got into a fight.”
	Morgana's ears perked up at the first hint of gossip. “A fight?”
	“Yeah. Mom caught me with an ice cream I got from Dad. They're settling it with a magic duel now.”
	“Are we gonna place bets on this?”
	“I guess? I'd say it's roughly fifty-fifty.”
	“Really? Usually it's like eighty-twenty in favor of Mom.”
	“Dad's probably gonna get the jump on her.”
	“Seriously?!”
	“Oi, oi!” May shouted, stumbling over her stiff limbs as she approached the gossiping siblings. “If it's fifty-fifty, I want in.”

	Meanwhile, back downstairs, Liana was struggling to maintain her composure, knowing full well that her husband was probably waiting where she'd least expect him. But, she wasn't ready to give up yet. She had nearly destroyed every single item of furniture he could hide within or behind on the ground floor, and, having no success in finding him, was at the very least relieved that he had lost nearly everything he could use for cover, and decided to continue working...
	...and working...
	...and working.
	Until the sun was nearly below the horizon. She began to wonder if Barthurs was interested in playing tag at all.
	Her daughters came running downstairs, except for May, whose was too stiff to handle anything more than a slightly hasty trod. Morgana was the first to speak up.
	“Hi Mom, how's the duel with Dad going?”
	“It's hardly a duel. He has yet to show himself, despite starting off as the one who was it.”
	“Does that mean we're getting carbonara for lunch?”
	“I feel that is a fitting punishment.”
	Her daughters all cheered in unison at the thought of freshly-made American-Italian cuisine. Of course, this all depended on whether or not Barthurs would show himself after the allotted time was up. It was entirely within the realm of possibility that he had gotten himself stuck in whatever room he was hiding in.
	 “Well, since your father is just about out of time, I'm going to go ahead and take a shower.”
	She walked out of the laboratory, through the master bedroom, and into the master bathroom. Everything on the way there had been thoroughly turned over or disintegrated, but it was nothing that a little more magic couldn't fix, especially after wringing Barthurs dry of his mana.
	After undressing herself, and running the hot water for a little under a minute, she stepped inside the shower, shutting the curtains behind her, and basking in the comfortably warm water for a moment before lathering herself in body soap.
	Then, she heard something. It sounded like a short tap against a tile floor. Nervously, she peered out from behind the curtains. Nothing was there, but her gut was screaming at her that something was off.
	Then, she felt hand on her shoulder. Her skin shuddered with fear. Through the tiny bathroom window, she could see the slightest sliver of light glowing over the horizon. The sun hadn't completely set by the time she made it to the shower.
	“Tag, you're it.” Barthurs chuckled.
	“Did you seriously wait here this entire time?!”
	“You were bound to let your guard down eventually.”
	Of course, the reality was that this plan was completely improvised. Barthurs, in his limited understanding of magical items, was not aware that antimagic powder had an interesting physical property: It was a particularly potent contact adhesive, with roughly twice the holding strength of rubber cement. After inadvertently sticking himself to the concrete floor a couple of times, he went into the master bathroom to wash it off, and in an ironic twist of fate, had ended up stuck to the shower wall after stumbling over his own feet.
	He certainly had the right idea though, as antimagic powder is quick to dissolve in water. However, the spot to which he was glued was too far away from the water valve. In one final gambit, he managed to concentrate hard enough to channel a spell of camouflage (luckily, a spell that did not require physical contact and thus was not affected by the antimagic powder) upon himself, and prayed that he could stay hidden from sight long enough for Liana to force her to give up looking for him after sundown and order take-out again, thus sparing him the labor of making dinner.
	However, in yet another twist, Liana had entered the very space to which he was confined, and had splashed enough water on him for the antimagic adhesive to dissolve.
	And now, she was “it”.
	“So, I've lost.” Liana sighed in resignation.
	“Yep.” Barthurs replied with a smirk.
	“Would it be acceptable if I paid for another round of take-out?”
	“As long as the kids get to choose where we order from.”
	“Fair enough.”
	“Alright. Can I finish showering?”
	“Nah.”
	“What do you mean?”
	“You always lock the door when you shower. I've always wanted to know what it'd be like to shower together, you know.”
	“You could have asked.”
	“Yeah, but now we're already here. But, now I'm starting to see why it usually only happens in porn.”
	“Can't this wait until tonight?”
	Barthurs shoves Liana toward the front end of the shower, pressing her against the wall. “I'll make it quick.”
	“Fine. But, I'll hold you to it.”
	Barthurs was thankful to have a wife with such an erotic body – he hardly needed to work himself up before he was ready to go. Holding his wife by the waist, he forced his rock-hard erection between her pale, purple thighs, hot water cascading over their bodies. It was extremely comfortable, although Liana had her gripes.
	“If you want it to be quick, shouldn't you go ahead and stick it in?”
	“I could, but foreplay is important. If the mood isn't right, it won't be satisfying at all.”
	“You already won, so stop gloating already.”
	“I'm not gloating. I know you like this kind of thing, too.”
	Barthurs began to thrust his hips against Liana's thighs, his dick effortlessly gliding between them. The softness of her undead skin never failed to satisfy, even under the running water.
	“You aren't going to be satisfied with just my thighs, are you?”
	“And what if I am?”
	“That sounds like a tremendous waste of time. I won't really get much out of it if you don't do it inside.”
	“It's my win, I'll enjoy it however I like.”
	Liana's hips squirmed against him. She wasn't expecting this level of teasing, as normally Barthurs was a lot more to-the-point when it came to having a quick round of sex. Having spent a sizeable portion of her mana turning the house over, she was practically starving for penetration. “This wasn't part of the competition.”
	“But you agreed to it.”
	“Yes, but I would like the energy.”
	“Energy?”
	“I practically demolished all of the furniture in the house looking for you.”
	“...So that's what all of that noise was. I thought Morgana was play-fighting with her sisters again.”
	“Unfortunately, no. So, if you don't mind...”
	“Alright, I get you.”
	Barthurs pulled out from between his wife's thighs, and, in yet another act of hubris, clenched onto her hips tightly, and forced himself inside of her rear end.
	Liana let out a strangled squeak, a sound akin to the chittering of a cat. Put bluntly, anal was not her strong suit. Her body, being naturally inclined to receive a human, was well prepared for it, but it was not something she had experimented with in the past, and most certainly not something she had tried with Barthurs very often. Because of this, it was one of her weakest spots, like a button that spiked her progress toward an orgasm by a factor of three.
	And, on the other end, Barthurs felt her anus tightly coiling around his penis, an infinitely tighter option than her pussy, though with the drawback of a lack of texture. He could probably use any of his wife's holes to get off quickly, but knew very well what would happen if he picked this one, and, being on a bit of a smug, sadistic streak, immediately went for it.
	“You bastard...” Liana grumbled, her knees buckling from pleasure.
	“You said you wanted the energy, you're getting the energy.”
	“I won't forget this.”
	Of course, these threatening words meant little in terms of consequence. Liana had a great deal of pride, and would often become competitive at the first sign that her husband was one-upping her. She was already sulking in defeat, and now she was being humiliated even further over it.
	Barthurs began shaking his hips, pulling Liana to him by the waist as he did. Liana, overwhelmed with pleasure, could do little but tremble vigorously, as though she were freezing in the piping-hot shower. His wife had practically been reduced to a limp, moaning sex toy at this point, her face twisted in a stupid-looking, clenched-teeth grin.
	Without any sort of verbal warning, Liana's husband came inside of her, the stimulation of a throbbing penis and the heat of his ejaculate setting her monster instincts ablaze with desire.
	With a voice as sweet and frail as a cookie, she asked, “You're not done yet, are you?”
	“What happened to keeping it quick?”
	Liana wiggled her rear end, while shooting him an innocent look. “Are you really going to stop now?”
	Barthurs, still hard, clenched Liana's waist tightly once again. “If you're gonna do something like that, no, I'm not.”

	In the living room, Ketala is studiously working through roughly seven-and-a-half pages of math homework. Morgana curiously peers over her shoulder.
	“Say, Ketala, where's the cat?”
	“Draco? He's, uh... I dunno.”
	“Whaddya mean, you dunno?”
	“I don't know. He just kind of does his own thing. He could be napping under my bed. Why are you asking?”
	“I can't see him with magic, so I'm wondering if maybe he rolled in some of the antimagic powder.”
	“A-antimagic powder? We have that?”
	“Duh. Mom's a chemist.”
	“And it got spilled?”
	“Eh, more like it was dumped. The bottle was on a shelf in the garage, and it got knocked over. Thankfully, the bottle was made of plastic, but the cap broke off in the fall, so there's dust everywhere. I also saw paw prints, and a huge basin that was made in the pile, so...”
	“Draco rolled around in it.”
	“Yeah. And considering how little time it takes for antimagic powder to form into an adhesive...”
	“He's stuck.” Ketala interjected, her voice shaking. “But, I can't look for him right now. If I don't have this homework done by the time dinner is ready, Mom'll be even more on my case than she already is.”
	“I'll go look with May. He couldn't have gone too far.”
	“Thanks, I owe you one.”
	And so, Operation Sticky Marshmallow was a go. Morgana and May took to the garage, inspecting every nook and cranny that the poor, fluffy cat could have wormed his way into. At first, it seemed fruitless, but after a long while of searching, May spoke up.
	“Sis, come take a look.” She called out to Morgana, holding up a thin strand of white hair. “It's cat hair. Right under the doormat. Well, I should say 'on top of'.”
	“What do you mean?”
	“The doormat was flipped. It's the reversible kind, so it was pretty easy to miss, but I saw a few hairs peeking out when I looked back over it.”
	She turned the doormat over, revealing a number of hairs, and kicking up a shimmering dust cloud of antimagic powder.
	Morgana held her sleeve to her chin. “So, he must've stuck himself to this, freaked out, and flipped it over in the process of kicking it off, tearing off some hair in the process.”
	“That's what I'm thinking.”
	“Let's just hope he's not completely hairless by the time we find him.”
	“It looks like he made his way back into the house after kicking that doormat off.” May remarked, pointing out the faintest glimmering trail of dust tracking into the house.
	“Good eye.”
	The girls followed the trail of dust into the hallway leading into the master bedroom, where they could hear their mother loudly groaning from within the master bathroom.
	“Is Mom okay?” May asked nervously.
	“Yeah. She usually vents all of her pent-up frustration with her co-workers in there.”
	May stiffly raises her hand to point. “The trail goes up.”
	Both daughters peer upward, and immediately gasp. There, with his back glued firmly to the ceiling, was Draco, nervously fidgeting about, trying to free himself from the sticky bonds of the antimagic powder.
	“How do we get him down from there?” May asks innocently.
	“Well, levitation is a bit beyond our level right now, so we'll have to do things the old-fashioned way.” Morgana sighs.
	“Old-fashioned?”
	“Dad normally keeps a step-ladder in the garage.”
	“It's chained and locked to the wall right now.”
	“Why?”
	“Ketala kept using it to test the effects of gravity and air resistance on various objects, and mom got scared.”
	“Why is Ketala interested in physics? I thought she was a math nerd.”
	“I don't think I could answer that question in a million years.”
	This was a fair enough response – in all the years both of them had spent growing up with Ketala, she was easily the most incomprehensible of the bunch. It was as if she were living off of pure whimsy alone.
	“So, how will we get him down, then?” May asked.
	“We'll have to resort to plan b. The old-old-fashioned way. But first, we should probably get some water. Wait right there.”
	Morgana left for the kitchen, and was immediately spotted by an extremely worried Ketala, who was so anxious she could hardly bring herself to work on her homework.
	“D-did you find him?” Ketala asked weakly.
	“Yeah. He's stuck to the ceiling.”
	“The ceiling? How?”
	“No idea. I don't even think he can jump that high.” Morgana remarked, pulling a spray bottle out of the utility drawer, and filling it with water. “I got this, though, don't worry.”
	Morgana went back into the hallway where May was waiting.
	“I figured out how he got up there.” May sighed, glancing at the pile of ash next to the wall.
	“How?”
	“When Mom was tearing up the house in search of Dad, she must have blasted the small table that was right next to this window. In doing so, she probably gave the cat a pretty good scare.” May pointed toward a large clump of fur stuck to where the outside wall and floor met. “Draco was lying here at the time, and he tried to run away, but he was stuck to this corner. In his struggle, he managed to pry himself free by kicking away as hard as he could, which flung him upwards to the ceiling.”
	“That's a lot of force for a cat.”
	“True, but how else do you think he got up there?”
	“Look a bit closer at that pile of ash.”
	“Hmm?”
	“The way the ashes scattered, and the scorch marks on the wall would suggest that Mom's arcane blast didn't quite hit the mark. In fact, she was pretty far off. You can see scratches and singes that are dangerously close to that clump of fur. In other words, Draco was a victim of collateral damage.”
	May looked solemnly down at the floor, and sighed. “Poor thing.”
	“But, he seems mostly unharmed, so let's go ahead and get him down from there.”
	“You never told me how you were going to do that.”
	“Mind taking a knee for me real quick?”
	“Ah, I see. Please be careful not to step on my hair.”
	“Would I be a good sister if I did?”
	May sighed once again, and kneeled. Morgana climbed on top of her shoulders.

	Back in the shower, Barthurs and his wife were finally finishing up, roughly three more ejaculations later.
	Barthurs let out a prolonged, satisfied sigh. “Man, I think that's a record.”
	“You've gone for longer.” Liana panted.
	“Not including experiment nights, I haven't.”
	“Ah, if only you let me reach for the Never-Let-Me-Go Bodywash. We could've kept going for at least another three rounds.”
	“We still have to feed our kids, remember?”
	“They're all undead.”
	“That's close enough to living for me.”
	Liana's eyes glittered with adoration. “I love that sentimental side of you.”
	“I guess I'll see you at dinner, then?”
	“...Yes. But first, could you do me a favor?”
	“Alright.”
	“Lift me up.”
	“Sure thing.”
	Barthurs hoists his wife by the midsection, and she chants a spell. After a brief delay, she becomes weightless.
	“Levitation?” Barthurs asks.
	“Do you really think I can stand up and finish showering like this?”
	“Fair enough.”
	Barthurs, after kissing his wife on the cheek, and still glowing with a victorious smugness, left the shower, so he could ask his daughters what they wanted for dinner. As he walked out of the master bedroom, he couldn't help but notice the tower of daughters shaking in the hallway.
	“What are you doing?” Barthurs asked, with the kind of sweetness that only a father addressing his daughters could.
	It was then that he noticed the large, bean-shaped mass of fur descending upon him. It was Draco, thoroughly pissed-off from being subjected to a spray bottle for three minutes. After a very comical struggle, Barthurs had managed to pry the fiendish beast off of his face, and Draco quickly scurried under the bed, unwilling to endure any further social interaction for the night.
	Barthurs swept the clumps of fur off of his face. “Anyone wanna tell me how the hell that happened?”
	The tower of daughters spoke in unison. “He was stuck.”
	“To the ceiling?”
	“It's a long story.” Morgana sighed as she climbed off of May's shoulders.
	“Let me guess, antimagic powder?”
	“How'd you know?”
	“Learned the hard way.”
	Morgana and May looked at their father, then back to each other, and shrugged. Morgana put her hands behind her back, swaying innocently as she piped out a question. “So, are you gonna make us carbonara tonight?”
	“Uhhh, no, your Mom lost the duel.”
	“Really? How?”
	“I was one step ahead of her the whole time. She underestimated me.”
	Impressed by his triumphant posture, Morgana and May beamed with awe.
	“Anyway,” Barthurs sighed, “Your Mom's gonna be a bit preoccupied with cleaning the house, so it looks like we're gonna be ordering in tonight. Got anything on the mind?”

	After unanimously deciding on ordering pizza, the family ate happily that night. Of course, after re-decorating the home, Liana had once again made herself thoroughly tired, and, not really in the mood for an energy drink, had decided to pay her husband a surprise visit of her own.
	“L-Liana!” Barthurs cried out in protest.
	“I said I'd return the favor, didn't I?”
	“Yeah, but I'm kind of in the middle of something.”
	“You're only playing a game.”
	“Yeah, but this is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. This shark hat, it's only going to be available for a limited time! If I can't clear this stage, I might never get another chance!”
	“I'm sucking it.”
	“Hey, wai-Just 'cause you can teleport under my desk doesn't mean you should!”
	“You're only fighting back because you think you need a break. But, I've experimented with your libido enough times to know exactly when you can cum again.”
	Barthurs continued to protest, but in spite of his struggling, Liana wrestled his pants down his legs. After being pants, Barthurs realized that his efforts were futile, and relinquished himself to his wife's will.
	Liana teased her husband with the entirety of her mouth, licking and kissing his groin until he was fully erect, and then immediately forcing it down her throat. The first taste of spiritual energy after running low on mana was easily one of Liana's favorite indulgences. She forced his legs further apart in order to further immerse herself in the lewd act.
	“H-hey, slow down.” Barthurs begged.
	She pulled away from him, only to continue with her hand. “I've had enough foreplay. I prefer to be more direct with sex, you know.”
	“I know, but it's hard to-”
	“I'm not stopping until you cum.”
	Barthurs tried to continue fighting back, but found himself face-to-face with a final boss, and, not willing to give up this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, had to carry on.
	Liana had made it her goal to make this as difficult as possible for him. Using both her hand and mouth, she relentlessly pumped his cock, all while stimulating the tip with her smooth, cool tongue. With her other hand, she gently squeezed his balls. For Barthurs, this was far too much. He swore under his breath as she milked out his orgasm with both her hands and mouth. She pulled her mouth off of his cock, before making an intentionally loud gulp. “Thanks for the refill.”