From Slave to King: My Rebate System Built Me a Kingdom With Beauties!

Chapter 250: Use Me, My King! [FIXED!] [18+]

Byung stepped forward, his bare feet silent on the cold stone floor of the chamber. Naruz stood motionless before him, her powerful orc frame rigid, green skin glistening faintly in the torchlight. Her eyes locked onto his, but he could sense the turmoil beneath her stoic facade. This wasn’t the goblin she had known—the scrawny survivor scraping by in the shadows. No, Byung had transformed. His body had bulked with unnatural strength, shoulders broad, muscles coiled like ropes under his skin. He towered over most goblins now, yet as he closed the gap, she didn’t flinch or step back. She simply waited.

His hand rose slowly. Fingers brushed the outer curve of her thigh. Naruz tensed, breath catching in her throat. She had braced for brutality—the rough grab of a conqueror claiming his prize, nails digging into flesh, yanking her close with no regard for tenderness. But Byung’s touch was feather-light, almost reverent. His fingertips traced the thick muscle of her leg, sliding upward in lazy circles, exploring the ridges of old scars that mapped her battles. The contrast sent a shiver through her; her skin prickled under his gaze. He smiled then—a slow curl of lips that revealed sharp teeth, eyes gleaming with the knowledge only a mind-reader could possess.

Leaning down, Byung pressed his mouth to her thigh. Lips parted to taste the salt of her skin. He kissed along the inner seam, soft and deliberate, breath hot against her. Naruz’s pulse hammered in her ears; her body betrayed her with a flood of heat low in her belly. He was bigger than her now, stronger—his goblin frame warped by dark power into something formidable. But it was his mind that truly dominated—slipping into hers like smoke, sifting through her thoughts. There he found the fear gnawing at her core: dread of proving useless, a discarded tool in his rising empire. And beneath it, a sharper edge—fear of what he had become, this evolved king who wielded thoughts as weapons.

He couldn’t fault her for it. As his nose grazed her skin, Byung inhaled deeply, drawing in the pheromones radiating from her pores. They carried a sweet, intoxicating aroma—ripe fruit mingled with the musk of arousal, thick and heady. It stirred his blood, making his cock twitch in anticipation. Pulling back slightly, he tilted his head up, gaze climbing to the swell of her underboob. Her breasts strained against the thin fabric of her tunic, massive and heavy, the underside curving out invitingly. Byung extended one arm; his entire forearm wedged between those plush mounds. The flesh yielded around him, warm and soft, enveloping his skin completely.

He began to slide his arm up and down. Friction built as her tits compressed and released with each motion. Naruz bit her lower lip hard, stifling a gasp. The way they swallowed his forearm whole spoke volumes about their size—each breast easily larger than his head, heavy orbs that jiggled with the movement. A low hum escaped Byung’s throat, vibrating against her. Then, with a firm tug, he yanked his arm free. The fabric of her tunic—already stretched to its limit—tore with a sharp rip. The sound echoed in the chamber as her breasts spilled out, bouncing heavily into the open air. Dark nipples stood erect, pebbled and begging for attention, the areolas wide and flushed.

Byung’s eyes dropped lower, taking in the evidence of her desire. Between her thighs, her pussy lips glistened, slick with arousal that had soaked through her undergarments. She had come here primed, her body aching for this even as her mind warred with doubt.

"On your knees," he commanded, voice a low rumble. "So you’re at my height."

Naruz dropped without a word. Her knees hit the floor with a thud. The motion made her tits sway; nipples brushed against her arms as she settled, now eye-level with him. Her breath came quicker, but she held his stare—submissive yet unbroken.

Byung reached out, cupping her chin to force her gaze steady. "I missed Maui," he said, the words deliberate, slicing through the tension. "It was her I hoped to fuck when I returned here. Not you."

The confession stung like a whip. Pain flashed in Naruz’s eyes. But Byung knew the truth—he had plucked it from her thoughts: that deep-seated fetish woven around Maui’s memory, the orc warrior who haunted her desires. He stared into her, unyielding, watching the conflict play out. She itched to retort, lips parting slightly, but she swallowed it down.

"But I guess you’ll have to do," he continued, tone mocking yet laced with hunger. "Not that you’re a bad replacement. Your body’s built for this—strong, scarred, ready to take what I give."

He couldn’t pinpoint when it had happened, but his cock strained against his loincloth now—rock hard, throbbing with aggressive need. The thick shaft pulsed, veins bulging, the head already leaking pre-cum that dampened the fabric. Byung’s hand moved to the tie, loosening it until his erection sprang free—heavy, curved upward, demanding attention.

"Open your mouth," he ordered, voice brooking no refusal.

Naruz parted her lips instantly, tongue visible, eyes glazing with a mix of submission and longing. She had missed this—the raw dominance that flipped the script, making sex with her not a gift she bestowed, but a service she craved to provide. It was her privilege to kneel, to serve the king who saw through her.

Byung leaned in, gathering saliva before spitting directly into her open mouth. The glob landed on her tongue, warm and viscous.

"Swallow it," he instructed.

She obeyed. Throat worked visibly. The moment his spit touched her, something ignited inside Naruz. Byung felt it in her mind—a switch flipping, barriers crumbling. His fluids, amplified a hundredfold by his evolution and the black magic thrumming in his blood, acted like an aphrodisiac elixir. They seeped into her system, heightening every sensation, flooding her nerves with electric fire. Her pussy clenched involuntarily; juices trickled down her inner thighs. In her thoughts, a frantic confession echoed: *I’m about to cum. He hasn’t even touched me there yet.*

Byung chuckled darkly, cock bobbing inches from her face. The sweet pheromones intensified, wrapping around him like a drug, urging him to claim her fully. He threaded his fingers through her coarse hair, gripping tight enough to tilt her head back.

"You feel that burn, don’t you? My spit sliding down your throat, making your cunt drip like a faucet."

Naruz whimpered. Massive tits heaved with each ragged breath; nipples so hard they ached. She nodded faintly, unable to speak, body trembling on the edge. Byung’s mind delved deeper, savoring the chaos: the fear of uselessness melting into desperate need, her Maui fetish twisting into this moment, making her wetter for the humiliation.

He guided his cock forward. The swollen head brushed her lips.

"Suck it. Show me how badly you want to be useful."

Her mouth closed around him eagerly. Lips stretched wide to accommodate his girth. She hollowed her cheeks, tongue swirling along the underside as she took him deeper—inch by throbbing inch. Byung groaned, hips rocking gently at first, letting her set a rhythm. Her saliva mixed with his pre-cum, dripping down her chin onto her exposed breasts. The sight fueled him—those huge tits slick now, bouncing as she bobbed her head.

Naruz’s hands braced on his thighs, nails digging in as the magic-laced spit worked its way through her veins. Her pussy throbbed untouched, clit swollen and pulsing, the pressure building unbearably. *Fuck, I’m going to cum just from this,* her thoughts screamed, fragmented and wild. Byung read it all, thrusting a bit harder, balls slapping against her chin.

He pulled back suddenly. Strings of spit connected them. Then he slapped his wet cock against her cheek.

"Look at you, orc slut. Soaking the floor without me even fingering that greedy hole."

She gasped, eyes pleading, but he wasn’t done teasing. Byung dropped to one knee, leveling with her, and shoved two fingers into her mouth alongside his spit.

"Clean them. Taste yourself on me later."

Naruz sucked obediently, tongue laving his digits while her body quivered. The black magic amplified everything—arousal spiked, walls fluttering around nothing. A sudden gush escaped her; her orgasm crashed without warning. She moaned around his fingers, thighs clenching as waves of pleasure ripped through her, pussy squirting lightly onto the stone.

Byung withdrew his hand, smirking at her flushed face.

"Came already? Pathetic. But useful."

He stood, hauling her up by the arm. Her legs were shaky. Pressing her back against the wall, he hooked one of her thighs over his hip, aligning his cock with her dripping entrance.

"Now, let’s see if you can handle the real thing. Beg for it—tell me how you’ll replace Maui in my bed."

Naruz’s voice broke free, husky and desperate.

"Please, my king... fuck me. Use my pussy like it’s hers. Make me your stand-in whore."

Naruz gave into her desires, she couldn’t hold back any longer nor did she care.