Chapter 6: Obsession
The ascent to Level 30 was not a climb; it was a surrender to gravity. After that night with Kendra inside her, a fundamental circuit had closed within Candice. The power didn’t just flow; it circulated, a self-sustaining loop of pleasure and prowess that fed on its own heat. Her academic performance ceased to be a concern. In Advanced Mana Dynamics, she effortlessly demonstrated a triple-layered shielding spell that left her instructor speechless. In Practical Alchemy, her potions simmered with a perfect, rosy potency. Her name began to appear on the Dean’s List bulletins, a sight that once would have made her weep with vindication. Now, she just glanced at it, a faint, knowing smile touching lips that had grown fuller, glossier without any conscious effort.
Graduation was assured. The dream was fulfilled. Yet, the satisfaction was a quiet, background hum compared to the screaming symphony of everything else.
Her obsession with Kendra was a living thing, a vine that had rooted in her guts and now threaded through every thought. It wasn’t just about the sex, though that was a constant, gnawing hunger. It was about her smell—that mix of jasmine, sweat, and sex that clung to the suite. It was about the sound of her laugh, a low, dirty chuckle. It was about watching her get ready for her shifts at the Crimson Lotus, applying makeup with those long pink nails, squeezing into outfits that were less clothing and more strategic suggestions.
Candice would sit at the vanity, pretending to study, her eyes tracking Kendra in the mirror. She watched the way Kendra’s back arched as she zipped a boot, the jiggle of her ass as she bent over, the way she’d lick her lips to moisten them, her eyes meeting Candice’s gaze in the glass with a spark of pure, shared complicity.
“See something you like?” Kendra would purr, not turning around.
“Shut up,” Candice would mumble.
One afternoon, she returned to the Crimson Lotus earlier than usual. Her final practical examination had ended in a tour de force, a controlled eruption of pink lightning that had charmed a terrified spectral wolf into a placid, panting familiar. Professor Hemlock had actually said, “Exemplary work, Dixon.” She was floating on a cloud of professional triumph, eager to share it, to bask in Kendra’s approval.
She used her key on the suite’s main door, the sound muffled by the thick velvet drapes. Pushing it open, she heard it immediately: a low, rhythmic slapping sound, wet and meaty, punctuated by guttural male grunts and the high, practiced, blissful cries she knew were Kendra’s.
Candice froze, her hand still on the doorhandle. The cloud of triumph evaporated, replaced by a sudden, freezing plunge in her stomach. Then, a second later, a scorching heat surged up from her core, making the pink heart on her womb pulse like a second heart.
She stepped inside, silent, and closed the door behind her.
The scene in the main living area was illuminated by the flickering candlelight. Kendra was on her knees on the huge, low ottoman, her spectacular ass high in the air, her back bowed. Her face was buried in the lap of a large, bearded man who lounged in a wingback chair, his trousers around his ankles. Kendra’s head bobbed in his lap with a ruthless, sucking rhythm, one hand working at the base of his shaft, the other curled around his thigh. Her lips, made for this, stretched obscenely around his girth.
Behind her, another man, younger and leaner, was on his knees, gripping her hips, driving into her from behind with sharp, punishing thrusts. His bare ass clenched with each movement. The wet slap of flesh against flesh was the room’s percussion. The air was thick with the smell of sex, cheap cologne, and the ozone-tang of active magic.
Candice couldn’t move. She couldn’t breathe. Her books slid from her numb fingers and thumped softly to the carpet.
She was supposed to be horrified. Disgusted. This was crude, transactional, filthy. This was Kendra working.
But all she felt was a terrifying, all-consuming fascination. Her eyes were glued to the point where the younger man’s body met Kendra’s. The way Kendra’s ass shook with each impact. The way she took it, not just enduring, but pushing back against him, meeting his thrusts, her moans muffled by the cock in her mouth. Candice’s own body reacted with a traitorous, flooding wetness. Her nipples hardened painfully against the lace of her bra. Her magic, her Level 29 magic, stirred awake, not in protest, but in rapt, hungry observation.
The bearded man groaned, a deep, seismic sound. His hands fisted in Kendra’s hair. “Gonna come, you greedy slut. Take it.”
Kendra’s response was a desperate, affirmative hum that vibrated through the room. She pushed herself down, taking him deeper into her throat, and held still. The man swore, his body buckling, and Candice watched, mesmerized, as Kendra’s throat worked in long, swallowing gulps. A few thick, white drops escaped the corner of her stretched lips and slid down her chin.
The sight was a lightning strike to Candice’s system.
As the bearded man slumped, spent, Kendra pulled off with a wet, popping sound. She didn’t pause. She braced her hands on the chair and pushed back harder against the younger man, her voice ragged and raw. “Fuck me! Harder, you fucking pussy, is that all you’ve got? Ram that cock in me!”
Her words, so filthy and commanding, seemed to electrify the man. He snarled, his thrusts becoming frenzied, animalistic. The ottoman scraped across the floor with the force of it. Kendra screamed, a sound of pure, shattering ecstasy, and her body convulsed. Candice saw the younger man’s hips stutter, then piston forward one last time as he buried himself to the hilt with a choked shout, his own release triggering inside Kendra.
For a long moment, there was only the sound of heavy, ragged breathing. The two men, sated and hollow-eyed, began to clumsily reassemble themselves, tossing crumpled bills onto the ottoman beside Kendra’s knee. They shuffled past Candice without truly seeing her, lost in their own post-coital haze, and let themselves out.
Silence rushed back in, broken only by the crackle of candles.
Kendra slowly collapsed forward onto the ottoman, her body slick with sweat, trembling. She turned her head, her cheek against the velvet. Her mascara was smudged, her lipstick was ruined, her hair a wild tangle. She saw Candice standing there by the door.
She didn’t look ashamed. She didn’t look surprised. She looked wrecked, and utterly, profoundly satisfied. A slow, tired, genuine smile spread across her swollen lips.
“Hey, you,” she rasped. “You’re early.”
Candice found her voice. It came out a dry whisper. “I passed. Top marks.”
“Knew you would.” Kendra pushed herself up to sit on her heels, wincing slightly. She wiped the back of her hand across her mouth, smearing the mess there. “Congrats, grad.”
Candice didn’t move. Her eyes were fixed on Kendra, on the sheen of sweat on her chest, on the marks that were already blooming on her hips. “What… what was that like?”
Kendra’s smile turned knowing. She understood the question wasn’t about the men. It was about the act. The mechanics of it. The feeling. “What, getting fucked while I sucked a guy off?”
Candice just nodded, her throat tight.
Kendra sighed, a happy, exhausted sound. She leaned back, bracing her hands behind her, presenting her used, glistening body without a shred of modesty. “It’s… a lot. It’s full. You can’t think. There’s just… pressure and heat and this fucking incredible stretch everywhere.” She met Candice’s gaze, her eyes dark and serious. “A cock… a real one, it’s different. It’s alive. It throbs. And when they come…” She licked her lips, tasting the residue. “When you feel that pulse inside you, or when you swallow it down your throat and it’s hot and salty and it’s for you… it’s like a power-up. Straight to the system. Better than any mana potion. Best feeling ever.”
Best feeling ever.
The words hung in the perfumed air. They wormed into Candice’s brain and took root. All her pleasure, every intense, magical orgasm she’d had with Kendra, had been with toys, with fingers, with tongues. With Kendra’s own transformed anatomy. But that… that was the original source material. That was the primal fuel her magic was ultimately derived from. Lust. Raw, male lust. Taken, consumed, converted.
She walked forward slowly, her legs unsteady. She stopped before the ottoman, looking down at Kendra. The smell was overwhelming up close—sex, sweat, another person’s release.
“Did it… level you?” Candice asked, her voice still hushed.
Kendra’s grin was feral. “A little. It’s not about the big leaps anymore for me. It’s about the maintenance. The joy of it.” She reached out, her sticky hand catching Candice’s, pulling her down. Candice knelt, letting Kendra draw her into a kiss. It was messy, salty, bitter, and deeply intimate. Candice could taste the stranger on Kendra’s tongue. The jealousy she expected didn’t come. Instead, a voracious curiosity flared.
When they parted, Kendra cupped her face. “You’re so close to thirty, baby. I can feel it buzzing in you. You’re gonna graduate. You’re a top student now. You have everything you wanted.”
“I know,” Candice breathed.
“So what do you want now?” Kendra’s question was soft, but it felt like the most important one in the world.
Candice looked at her, then let her gaze travel over the room, over the discarded money, over the indentation in the chair where the bearded man had sat. The image was seared into her mind: Kendra, used, glorious, powerful.
“I don’t know,” Candice said. But it was a lie. A seed of desire, dark and hungry, had been planted.
The final push to Level 30 happened two nights later. It wasn’t planned. It was inevitable.
Candice was buzzing, unable to sleep. The image of Kendra with those men played on a loop behind her eyes. Kendra slept beside her, naked and serene, a soft snore escaping her parted lips. Candice’s hand drifted down her own body, over her stomach, through the curls between her legs. She was wet, aching. But the idea of touching herself felt pointless, pathetic. The bimbo magic heart on her womb glowed a soft, persistent pink in the dark.
She rolled over, pressing herself against Kendra’s back. She kissed her shoulder, her neck, her hand sliding around to cup a heavy breast, thumb rubbing the nipple to stiff attention.
Kendra stirred with a soft murmur. “Mmm… hungry again?”
“Yes,” Candice whispered, her voice desperate. She ground her hips against Kendra’s ass, seeking friction. “I can’t stop thinking about it.”
“About what?” Kendra turned in her arms, her eyes slits of gold in the moonlight.
“About what you said. About cocks. About… cum.” She flushed hotly saying it, but the need overrode the shame. “Is it… is it really the best?”
Kendra’s sleepiness vanished. Her eyes gleamed. She kissed Candice, deep and slow. “For us? Yeah. It’s our nectar. Our fucking ambrosia.” She trailed her lips down Candice’s jaw, to her throat. “You want to know? For real?”
A tremor ran through Candice. She nodded, biting her lip.
“Then let’s find out,” Kendra murmured. Her hand slipped between Candice’s thighs, but not to linger. She gathered the wetness there, slicking her fingers. Then, she reached for the top drawer of the nightstand. She didn’t pull out the double-ended toy. She pulled out something else—a sleek, flesh-toned dildo with a suction cup base, and a harness made of black leather and gleaming chrome.
Candice watched, her heart pounding, as Kendra sat up and deftly buckled the harness around her hips and thighs. She attached the dildo, giving it a firm, testing tug. It stood out from her body, an absurd, imposing fake cock.
“This,” Kendra said, her voice taking on a low, commanding tone Candice hadn’t heard before, “is a teacher. A substitute. Until you’re ready for the real thing.” She loomed over Candice, the silhouette of the harness and the cock against the moonlight. “You wanna know what it feels like? To be filled by something like this? To have it pound into you until you forget your own name?”
Candice was breathing in short, sharp gasps. She spread her legs, an open invitation. “Yes.”
Kendra didn’t need more. She positioned herself, the head of the toy pressing against Candice’s entrance. It was thick, thicker than Kendra’s own anatomy had been.
“Look at me,” Kendra ordered.
Candice’s eyes locked onto hers. Kendra pushed.
The stretch was immediate and intense. Candice cried out, her back arching off the bed. It was an invasion, a claiming. It didn’t throb with life, but it was unyielding, a ruthless tool. Kendra pushed deeper, inch by relentless inch, until she was fully sheathed. Candice felt impossibly, divinely full.
“Fuck,” she sobbed, her hands clawing at the sheets.
Kendra began to move. It was a different rhythm than before—more deliberate, more powerful, with the full strength of her hips and core behind it. Each thrust drove the air from Candice’s lungs. The sound was lewd, a synthetic, squelching slap that filled the room. Kendra watched her face, adjusting her angle, hitting a spot that made Candice see stars.
“Is this what you wanted?” Kendra grunted, her own breath coming fast. “This fullness? This… fucking?”
“Yes! God, yes!” Candice screamed. The pleasure was sharper, more brutal than anything before. It was linked inextricably to the image in her head, to the fantasy of a stranger, of many strangers, of being used for this sole, magnificent purpose. Her magic screamed in tandem with her body, a rising tide of pink energy that made the air crackle.
Kendra fucked her with a relentless, pounding pace. She leaned down, capturing Candice’s mouth in a biting kiss. “You’re gonna come just from this, aren’t you?” she growled against her lips. “You’re gonna come on a fake cock because you’re so fucking desperate to know what the real thing feels like. You’re a desperate little slut, Candice. My desperate little slut.”
The words, the obscene praise, the relentless, mechanical pounding—it was too much. Candice shattered. Her orgasm was a violent, silent scream, a convulsion that locked every muscle in her body. The pink light that erupted from her wasn’t a flare; it was a sustained nova, bleaching the room white for a full three seconds, pulsing in time with the ruthless contractions of her cunt around the invading toy.
Kendra didn’t stop. She rode through the climax, fucking her through the oversensitivity, until Candice was a sobbing, oversensitized wreck. Only then did she slow, and finally still, buried deep.
Panting, Kendra looked down at her. A slow, awe-filled smile spread across her face. She gently withdrew, the toy slipping out with a wet sound.
Candice lay boneless, tears of overwhelmed ecstasy leaking from the corners of her eyes. The power inside her wasn’t humming. It was roaring. It was a settled, titanic presence. She knew, without a doubt.
Level 30.
She had graduated in every sense that mattered. The top student. The prodigy. The victor.
Kendra unbuckled the harness, letting it and the toy fall to the floor with a soft thud. She curled around Candice, holding her as she trembled. She kissed her temple, her hair.
“There she is,” Kendra whispered, her voice thick with something like pride and love. “There’s my graduate.”
Candice turned her face into Kendra’s neck, inhaling the scent of her skin, now layered with their shared sweat. The obsessive hunger was still there, but it had mutated, evolved alongside her magic. It was no longer just a hunger for Kendra.
It was a hunger for more.
The question echoed in the newfound, powerful silence within her: if a fake cock and Kendra’fucking her could feel like that, could do that… what would the real thing be like?