Matthew winced for a brief moment, feeling something throb behind his eyes. For the slightest of seconds the vision shimmered around them, then quickly resolidified. The fact that he had put Edreina in a trance was certainly helping with the Djed drain, but maintaining such a technique for this long was still causing him to approach an overgiving threshold. He had already touched at it once or twice during this lesson. He couldn't do it again. He wouldn't be able to hold it all together for much longer, but what other choice did he have? He didn't want to experience the full effects of the drug. He knew though, in the back of his mind, that it was foolish of him. He could not risk damage to his body out of simple fear. He would hold the hallucination for as long as he could, but would drop it the minute that his Djed reserves dropped into dangerous territory.
He was distracted from his thoughts by the look on Edreina's face. What was she so interested it? He felt a throbbing heat both in his stomach and between his legs, but curiosity won over as he glanced in the direction she was staring in. Sex was sex. There were a variety of ways to do it, but it was all the same thing. He knew the look in her eye though, it was one of the very few things he could empathize with. She was curious. Had she perhaps never seen some of these things before? On a different day, he would have been happy to explain. He was bending her body like that to get the right upwards angle required, and his hand was holding her hair like that because it kept her body bent at just the right curve. It was all about the angle, that particular position. A subtle change, but a very important one. There there was the group over there, manhandling the Svefra into a position that he hadn't even known she was capable of. How very flexible. He wondered if he was able to bend like that.
But he was getting distracted.
Become the only god she will ever truly worship.
A dominant voice whispered, one of his own Lusts smiling at him. The drug was reaching an apex.
No, let her be the only god you will ever cry out for.
It was a submissive voice this time, but Matthew avoided looking for the source. He drew a ragged breath and blinked multiple times, trying to clear the foggy haze of lust in his mind. His hand tightened on hers, nails digging into her palm for a brief second. He used the touch as an anchor, and also desperately clung to some of the logics that rattled around in his mind. He had studied how to hold a hand, once upon a time. It was a science too. There were guidelines, rules. He recited them in his head, focusing on her lips to help him remember. No, that made no sense. Focus on her eyes.
The Harlot realized she was speaking, remembering that he had asked her to. He refocused, centered himself on the words that were coming from her mouth. He was not put off by the thrashing pulsating bodies around them, nor the fact that he was materializing all of this in the form of an orgy hallucination. Sex was sex, no matter if it was a couple of a crowd. He nodded distantly at her words, noting that she had gotten a bit of it wrong but understanding why she had. At her final question, he blinked at her as if the answer was an obvious one. "If I was a manipulator looking to render you helpless, I would ideally do it in a way you would never expect. Your sexuality is something you readily accept and indulge in, which I consider a positive trait. However, that led me to believe that you would not notice the effects of the drug until too late. You would consider them to be a natural reaction to my allures. You would be betrayed by your body before you even knew that it had turned against you."
His Djed dipped, and he instantly let go of the hallucination and brought them back to the real world. The sudden shock would hopefully knock her out of her trance, but her state was selfishly quite low on his list of priorities. Now that his way of coping with the drug had been shattered, he had nothing. He barely even realized that he was leaning forward to hungrily and passionately kiss her, only catching himself midway. He let out a growl of frustration, absolutely hating the feeling. The drug pulsed through him, making him feel like sex was an immediate and important need. The Harlot scrambled backwards on the wooden floor, eyes locked on her with a mixture of frustration and lust, putting his back to the wall and drawing his knees to his chest. He looked the part of a little boy for a moment, the usually composed prostitute anything but composed in the moment.
Matthew came to the same conclusion she did, deciding that thought and talk was the best form of distraction. If the drug was this intense, it had to be at the peak. It would start to die off soon, he somewhat desperately assumed. He reached out for a topic, randomly choosing one that was somewhat appropriate to their situation. "Tell me about Yahal. Who is he? What is he? Why do you worship him?"
He was distracted from his thoughts by the look on Edreina's face. What was she so interested it? He felt a throbbing heat both in his stomach and between his legs, but curiosity won over as he glanced in the direction she was staring in. Sex was sex. There were a variety of ways to do it, but it was all the same thing. He knew the look in her eye though, it was one of the very few things he could empathize with. She was curious. Had she perhaps never seen some of these things before? On a different day, he would have been happy to explain. He was bending her body like that to get the right upwards angle required, and his hand was holding her hair like that because it kept her body bent at just the right curve. It was all about the angle, that particular position. A subtle change, but a very important one. There there was the group over there, manhandling the Svefra into a position that he hadn't even known she was capable of. How very flexible. He wondered if he was able to bend like that.
But he was getting distracted.
Become the only god she will ever truly worship.
A dominant voice whispered, one of his own Lusts smiling at him. The drug was reaching an apex.
No, let her be the only god you will ever cry out for.
It was a submissive voice this time, but Matthew avoided looking for the source. He drew a ragged breath and blinked multiple times, trying to clear the foggy haze of lust in his mind. His hand tightened on hers, nails digging into her palm for a brief second. He used the touch as an anchor, and also desperately clung to some of the logics that rattled around in his mind. He had studied how to hold a hand, once upon a time. It was a science too. There were guidelines, rules. He recited them in his head, focusing on her lips to help him remember. No, that made no sense. Focus on her eyes.
The Harlot realized she was speaking, remembering that he had asked her to. He refocused, centered himself on the words that were coming from her mouth. He was not put off by the thrashing pulsating bodies around them, nor the fact that he was materializing all of this in the form of an orgy hallucination. Sex was sex, no matter if it was a couple of a crowd. He nodded distantly at her words, noting that she had gotten a bit of it wrong but understanding why she had. At her final question, he blinked at her as if the answer was an obvious one. "If I was a manipulator looking to render you helpless, I would ideally do it in a way you would never expect. Your sexuality is something you readily accept and indulge in, which I consider a positive trait. However, that led me to believe that you would not notice the effects of the drug until too late. You would consider them to be a natural reaction to my allures. You would be betrayed by your body before you even knew that it had turned against you."
His Djed dipped, and he instantly let go of the hallucination and brought them back to the real world. The sudden shock would hopefully knock her out of her trance, but her state was selfishly quite low on his list of priorities. Now that his way of coping with the drug had been shattered, he had nothing. He barely even realized that he was leaning forward to hungrily and passionately kiss her, only catching himself midway. He let out a growl of frustration, absolutely hating the feeling. The drug pulsed through him, making him feel like sex was an immediate and important need. The Harlot scrambled backwards on the wooden floor, eyes locked on her with a mixture of frustration and lust, putting his back to the wall and drawing his knees to his chest. He looked the part of a little boy for a moment, the usually composed prostitute anything but composed in the moment.
Matthew came to the same conclusion she did, deciding that thought and talk was the best form of distraction. If the drug was this intense, it had to be at the peak. It would start to die off soon, he somewhat desperately assumed. He reached out for a topic, randomly choosing one that was somewhat appropriate to their situation. "Tell me about Yahal. Who is he? What is he? Why do you worship him?"