Chapter 7: New companion
The cork popped. The bottle shattered. And the wind screamed.
It wasn't just a gust—it was a shriek, raw and ancient, older than the dunes of Zerrikania and fiercer than a tempest on the Yaruga.
Shirou barely had time to shove his companion aside before the force caught him full in the chest. Air crushed him against a broken pillar, then lifted him high into the ruin’s crumbling dome. Invisible fingers wrapped around his throat and chest like coiling snakes, tightening.
Choking. Hoisted. Twisting.
He couldn’t reach his swords. Could barely think. Then… a whisper in memory.
A priestess. Dark hair, wide hips, a teasing mouth. He’d helped her once, a haunting exorcism in a marsh. In return, she’d whispered a spell to him with that lilting, velvet tone of hers.
“Say this if you ever meet something older than the winds,” she’d giggled. “It’ll bind the spirit down.”
He’d thought she was mocking him, maybe flirting. But he’d committed the strange phrase to memory anyway.
And now, strangled near-death, he rasped the syllables out.
The air snapped.
A soundless detonation pulsed from the epicenter of the ruin. The wind collapsed into a shape—first mist, then lightning, then curves, hips, hair like burning vapor—
A woman.
Not a human one.
She floated above the broken floor, arms out, bare feet not touching ground. Her form was exaggerated, unreal. Voluptuous to the point of dream or madness—barely clothed in coils of translucent cloud that clung to her breasts and thighs like needy lovers. Her eyes glowed with wordless, primal intelligence.
She didn’t speak.
She landed with a graceful thud, stepped toward him, and exhaled.
The ruins shuddered.
Wind peeled away his clothes, slow and deliberate.
Shirou gasped, backing up. “Wait—what are you—?”
The Djinn’s hands didn’t ask permission. Her mouth pressed to his chest, her body pressed to his lap, her weight atop him.
She didn’t ask. She obeyed.
Because, without knowing it, Shirou had wished for this. Not just desire—but submission.
The phrase that priestess taught him hadn’t been a banishment. It was an ancient Djinn-language mating command—one so potent it acted as a binding wish.
He had unknowingly told a Djinn to pleasure him, to take him, to claim him as hers.
And she did.
No names. No words.
Just heat. Pressure. Storms condensed into sweat and breath and teeth.
Shirou clenched his jaw, forcing back a groan as the Djinn’s touch ignited a fire in him—a blaze that filled his veins with lava, his bones with thunder. His body was aroused, his mind spiraling into a chaos of old memories and raw instincts.
“You should… stop,” he breathed, but his hands didn’t push her away. They stroked her hair, her back, her hips—as if he were drunk or dreaming.
The Djinn looked down at him, eyes burning like twin suns. She didn’t stop.
She bore a reluctant expression, her eyes flickering with something that might have been uncertainty or discomfort. With a flick of her finger, his pants were torn apart, the fabric shredding as if it were nothing more than dust in a storm. She raised an eyebrow, her gaze trailing down to his now-exposed manhood.
Shirou’s cock, even pliant and relaxed, was a spectacular example of pure masculinity. Thick and long, it lay heavy against his thigh, a testament to his virility that even the normally agender Djinn couldn’t ignore. The Djinn’s eyes widened slightly, her pupils dilating as she took in the sight.
Shirou’s face flushed, a mixture of embarrassment and arousal warring within him.
He was bound by the Djinn's wind, his body and limbs held firmly in place, rendering him utterly helpless. Unable to move, he could only watch as the Djinn shifted her stance, her eyes locked onto his cock.
Wordlessly, she bent down, her hair fanning out around her like a dark storm cloud. Her reluctant expression transformed as her lips parted, and she took the head of his cock into her mouth. The change was immediate and palpable; her expression shifted, her eyes fluttering closed as if savoring a taste she hadn't expected. Despite her initial hesitation, she began to suck, her mouth making sloppy, wet noises that echoed through the ruined chamber. Her tongue swirled around the tip, and she started to move, bobbing her head up and down, taking more of him into her mouth with each pass.
Her moans vibrated against his cock, sending shockwaves of pleasure through him. The sound was primal, raw, and wholly unexpected—a gasp of surprise followed by a low, hungry cry. It echoed through the chamber, resonating off the broken walls, a symphony of flesh and wind. Shirou’s breath hitched, his hips bucking involuntarily, pushing deeper into her mouth.
The Djinn’s hesitation was gone, replaced by an urgency that matched his own desire. Her hands gripped his thighs, fingers digging into the muscle as she worked her mouth on him. She moaned again, louder this time, the sound growing more insistent, more demanding. Shirou’s eyes rolled back, his vision swimming as the pleasure built. He couldn’t see clearly, couldn’t think clearly—there was only the sensation of her, hot and wet and hungry.
His cock slipped free with a loud pop that echoed through the chamber. Her lips glistened with his essence, a sight that sent a fresh jolt of desire through him.
But the Djinn didn’t speak. She simply stared at him, her eyes wide and confused, as if she were seeing him—seeing herself—for the first time. Her gaze flickered down, taking in her own body, her pussy slick and swollen with need. She looked surprised, almost disbelieving, her expression mirroring the shock that throbbed through Shirou’s veins.
Yet, she didn’t stop. No words were exchanged, no questions asked. Her duty was clear, bound by the unspoken wish he had unknowingly made. She straddled him, her knees on either side of his hips, her hands gripping his shoulders for balance.
Without preamble or warning, she took him in, her pussy swallowing his cock in one smooth, fluid motion. A clear, deep groan escaped her lips, resonating with the pleasure that pulsed through her body. Shirou's own groan echoed hers, his hips thrusting upwards, driving his cock deeper into her folds. She was tight, hot, and wet—a perfect fit for his massive tool.
For a moment, she paused, her eyes fluttering closed, her expression softening from the cold, aloof reluctance that had been her mask. The change was dramatic and instantaneous, her body yielding to the sensation of him inside her. Her eyes closed, and a low, hungry moan escaped her lips as she began to move, her hips rocking back and forth, her pussy gripping his cock like a vice.
The reluctance that had marred her expression melted away, replaced by an intensity that matched the heat of her body. She didn't speak, only moaned, a symphony of wordless pleasure that echoed through the ruined chamber. Her breasts, massive and firm, began to bounce with each thrust, her nipples tightening into hard peaks as she moved faster and faster, her hips slamming against his with an urgency that matched her rising need. The sound of their bodies meeting, wet and slick, filled the air, a primal, erotic symphony that drowned out the howl of the wind. Shirou's hands gripped her hips, his fingers digging into her soft flesh, guiding her, urging her on.
His touch felt strange, both rough and gentle, and the sensation of his fingers on her skin sent waves of pleasure crashing through her. She looked down at him, truly seeing him for the first time, her eyes wide with curiosity and excitement. A smile played at the corners of her mouth, and she tilted her head slightly, her body moving faster, her hips slamming against his with an urgency that matched her rising need.
"Is it normal?" her eyes seemed to ask, looking at him as if he were a new toy she had just discovered. She didn't speak, her lips parted slightly, her breath coming in ragged gasps. Her eyes, however, spoke volumes, asking questions, seeking answers.
Instead, she picked up pace, hips slamming against his, her body moving with an inhuman speed that made her breasts nearly slap her face. Unlike a human woman, she didn't suffer from the same limits of flesh. Her pleasure was boundless, her endurance unyielding. She only continued to speed up, delivering more pleasure to his cock, as if trying to find just how pleasurable Shirou's cock could get. Till now, she hadn't found the limits.
Shirou's jaw clenched tighter, a growl escaping his lips as the intensity of her movements increased. He could feel every inch of her, the heat of her body enveloping him, the wetness of her pussy coating him.
The pleasure was overwhelming, each thrust sending shockwaves of ecstasy through his body. She rode him harder and harder, her hips moving with an intensity that seemed to defy the laws of physics. Shirou’s grip on her tightened, his fingers digging into her soft flesh as he tried to match her pace. But she was relentless, her bodies moving like a machine, her hips slamming against his with a force that made him grunt with each impact. It was as if she had no limits, no boundaries, just an insatiable desire to ride him to the edge of oblivion and back.
She laughed, a sound that was half joy, half triumph. It was a sound that sent a shiver down Shirou’s spine, a sound that was both intoxicating and terrifying. “This is amazing,” her eyes seemed to say.
“Cock is amazing.” Her gaze flickered to his cock, buried deep inside her, then back to his face. “You are amazing.” Her eyes held him, conveying a depth of emotion that belied her initial reluctance. She leaned over him, her massive chest squeezed against his. It was so much that it spilled onto his face, her soft flesh enveloping him, her nipples hard as stones against his cheeks. She started to kiss him, her lips finding his as her hips never stopped moving, quickening, her body writhing like a snake charmer's flute. The wind howled around them, wilder, more insistent, mirroring her unbridled passion.
Shirou couldn't breathe, couldn't think.
The Djinn’s body was a relentless machine, her hips slamming against his with a force that made his breath catch in his throat. She rode him wildly, her moans growing louder, more insistent, as if she were signaling the very skies to bear witness to their primal dance. Her hands gripped his shoulders, her nails digging into his flesh, leaving crescent moons of blood that trailed down his biceps.
Hours passed like minutes. The sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows that reached out like phantom arms, desperate to touch the feverish tableau before them. The Djinn didn't speak, not once.
Her mouth didn't utter a single word until the very end, when she finally stopped, breathless and panting, her body trembling with a release of pent-up desire. She leaned forward, her mouth finding his, her tongue slipping into his mouth, tasting him. The sensation was electric, sending a jolt through Shirou's body as if he'd been struck by lightning. His eyes widened, his body tensing as he felt a sudden, overwhelming urge.
"I want you to be mine, always," he whispered, the words tumbling out of his mouth in a language he didn't recognize, didn't understand. They were ancient, primal, as old as the wind that had given birth to the Djinn in the first place. "I want your body, forever," he added, his voice hoarse, his body aching with a need he couldn't quite comprehend.
He felt an inexplicable pull towards her, a force stronger than gravity, stronger than the wind that had once bound them together.
The Djinn smirked, a slow, sly curl of her lips that held a hint of triumph. Three wishes had been used, but now she was bound to him forever. She smiled wider at the thought, her eyes gleaming with an ancient, primal joy. She was free, yet chained—a paradox she reveled in, for it meant she could indulge in the pleasures of flesh once more. She remained wordless, her thoughts a whirlwind of possibilities and promises.
And she rose from him, her bindings leaving his body, allowing him to move once more. Now, she presented herself on the grass, her impossible proportions all too inviting.
She looked at him, saucily, her eyes saying, "Do whatever you want. Do your worst. I want all of it." Shirou, whose reason snapped from too many orgasms, jumped on her like a wild beast. His hands gripped her hips, his fingers digging into her soft flesh as he plunged into her once more, his cock already hard and ready. He moaned, a primal sound that echoed through the ruined chamber, as he started to move, his hips slamming against hers with a force that made the ground quake. He was a creature of pure instinct now, driven by primal needs and desires. He didn't care about the consequences, about the future, about anything but the sensation of her body under his. He pounded into her, his cock filling her completely, his hips moving with a speed and force that defied all logic.
The Djinn's legs wrapped around him, her muscles flexing and tensing as she matched his pace, her body moving like a well-oiled machine. Her eyes, however, held a sense of wonder and surprise, her expression mirroring the awe she felt at the intensity of their coupling.
Their bodies slapped together, the sound echoing through the ruined chamber, a primal symphony that seemed to resonate with the very walls themselves. Shirou's gaze was locked onto her, his eyes burning with a mixture of lust and disbelief. His hands gripped her hips, his fingers digging into her flesh, as he struggled to maintain control.