Chapter 637: R.I.P. (Rotted in Pussy)

Jasmine’s husband stared at his wife—her pussy dripping, her cum-soaked thighs glistening, her back arched in post-orgasmic bliss—his eyes bulging, red and bloodshot, veins popping in his forehead as his body trembled violently. His mouth hanging open, no words coming out—just a broken, gurgling moan:

"I....aaaa—" His voice cracked, raw and choked, his chest heaving like a dying animal, his fingers clawing at the air—useless, pathetic.

Jasmine smirked—slow, cruel—her pussy pulsing with the aftermath of her orgasm, my cum still leaking from her womb. She lifted herself up—deliberate, taunting—forcing another torrent of squirt to erupt from her pussy, soaking the floor—and splashing directly onto her husband’s face.

"Aaaaaah—!" He gasp-choked, his body jerking as the hot, sticky spray hit his cheeks, his lips, his eyes—his own wife’s filth marking him in his final moments.

I released the Telekinesis from his body—just like that.

THUD.

His body collapsed forward, face-first into the pool of Jasmine’s squirt and my cum, his limbs twitching as his fingers clawed at his chest—his heart seizing under the weight of betrayal and humiliation.

"Hmmmm..." I chuckled, low and amused, watching as his body convulsed, his breath coming in ragged, wet gasps—drowning in his wife’s fluids, his life slipping away right there on the floor.

Jasmine didn’t react.

She didn’t even look down.

Her eyes were glazed, dazed—her mind flooded with the Lust Demon’s influence, her body still throbbing with the aftermath of being filled, bred, claimed. She reached back, her fingers trailing down my thigh, her voice a distant, drugged moan:

"Mmmmm... More..."

Emily stepped forward, her heels clicking against the wet floor, her eyes gleaming with sadistic amusement as she watched the husband twitch and gasp, his face pressed into the mess of his wife’s betrayal.

"What—" She tilted her head, mocking, her voice dripping with disdain. "Don’t tell me you’re dying..." She crouched down, her fingers gripping his hair, yanking his head up—just enough for him to see her smirk. "Pathetic."

His lips trembled, foam bubbling at the corners of his mouth, his eyes rolling back as his heart struggled to keep beating.

Emily stood over the husband’s twitching body, her heel still pressed into his back, his face mashed into the pool of Jasmine’s squirt and my cum. His fingers clawed weakly at the floor, his heart stuttering its last beats as his life drained away—drowned in his wife’s betrayal.

"S-Such... a... loser..." Emily tutted, shaking her head as she let him drop back down, his face splashing into the filth again. "Couldn’t even satisfy such a slutty wife." She stood up, wiping her fingers on her thigh with a disgusted scoff. "Honestly? It’s better you die."

Jasmine moaned softly, her fingers still stroking my cock, her mind fogged with post-orgasmic bliss and the Lust Demon’s influence. She glanced at her husband’s body—no remorse, no guilt, only the distant echo of a life she no longer cared about.

"Goodbye, my dear husband..." Her voice was dreamy, detached, as she leaned down—just enough to let a final drip of cum fall from her pussy onto his back. "Don’t worry..." She smirked, her fingers tightening around my cock. "I’ll be happy..." Her tongue darted out, licking the cum from her lips. "...with this thick cock inside my pussy."

I deactivated my

Lust of Scent

and

Hand of Arousal

abilities—the air clearing of the heavy, musky aroma of arousal, the unseen pull of desire fading—but Jasmine’s grip on my cock tightened.

"Jack..." Emily stepped closer, her arms sliding around my waist, her voice soft—almost affectionate. "You’re so kind to give him such an easy death..." Her lips brushed my chest, her tongue flicking out to taste the sweat and cum on my skin. "But we really should go..." She pulled back, her eyes gleaming with concern—or something like it. "Victor will be looking for us by now..."

I grunted—amused, unconcerned—as I pulled on my pants, the fabric sticking slightly to the dried cum and squirt still clinging to my skin. The air was thick with the scent of sex and death, but I didn’t care. Death was messy. Life was messier. And Victor? He was about to learn that lesson the hard way.

"Then let him look." My voice was a growl, low and dismissive, as I buttoned my shirt, my eyes flicking to the husband’s corpse—still face-down in the pool of filth, his fingers curled in the aftermath of his final heartbeat.

"P-Please take me with you..." Jasmine’s voice was raw, desperate, her eyes wide and pleading—no longer glazed with lust, but filled with genuine fear. "I can’t live without your cock anymore..."

I smirked—cold, calculating. I had no intention of leaving her behind. A whore this broken, this devoted? Too valuable to waste. I called Margaret and asked her pick Jasmine up.

"Margaret will pick you up." My voice was low, commanding, as I pulled out my phone, dialing the number. "You’ll stay at my villa."

Jasmine’s breath hitched, her fingers clutching my arm like a drowning woman gripping a lifeline. "Y-Yes— Anything—" Her voice cracked, her body still trembling from the aftermath of being filled, claimed, rewritten.

I bought 2 shadown guards and assigned them to protect Jasmine— Without her knowing. Without Emily knowing anything.

Emily glanced at her ragged dress—torn, soaked, ruined—and scoffed. "Mmmmm— Disgusting." She stepped over to the racks of lingerie and dresses, fingers trailing over the fabrics before selecting a new one—black, tight, expensive. She stripped naked right there, no shame, no hesitation, her body still glistening with sweat and cum.

"At least let me leave looking decent." She smirked, pulling on the new panties, the lace clinging to her pussy—still swollen from earlier. "Unlike some people." Her eyes flicked to Jasmine, who was still standing there, dazed, her fingers clutching the fabric of her own ruined dress.

Jasmine blinked—slowly, like she was waking from a dream—then reached for a new one herself. Red. Short. Tight. The kind of dress that screamed "fuck me" without saying a word. She pulled it on, her fingers trembling as she zipped it up, her eyes darting to her husband’s body—then away, as if he wasn’t even worth a second glance.

I paused—just for a moment—my gaze lingering on the corpse. Dead. Really dead. No pulse, no breath, no fucking point in wasting time on him anymore.

My fingers moved automatically, pulling out my phone, contacted SERA.

"Clean this up." My voice was cold, efficient. "All footage. All traces. Victor doesn’t find shit."

"Understood, Master." SERA’s voice was smooth, mechanical. "It will be as if this never happened."

Good.

I ended the call—then opened another message thread.

Isabella.

My fingers typed quickly, precise, ruthless:

"Right now is the best time to Attack Victor—he’ll be busy looking for me." I told Isabella what’s happened how I met Emily and now going to meet her sister and my plan of going to Russia.

"Kill all his people."

"Use the Shadow Guards."

"Do NOT kill Victor."

"I want him alive." "I want him broken." "Swallow his business. Take everything." "Leave him with nothing." "Make it hurt."

I sent it.

My fingers

brushed

against the screen of my phone as I

slid

it back into my pocket, the

cool

metal of the device

warm

from my grip. A

slow

,

satisfied

smirk

curled

my lips as the

adrenaline

from the night’s

filthy

escapades still

hummed

through my veins.

And then—it popped up.

A notification from the

SUDIX System.

CONGRATULATIONS,

TASK COMPLETED:

Dominate a Smoldering MILF in her 50s

REWARD:

$200,000

credited to your account.

I chukled and closed the system.