Note: This story is a work of fiction. It has many content of adult nature. If you do not want to read such content, please close your browser window or press the convenient back button.

In a physical sense, she was every bit the same as her mirror. They could be twins, even. Their body shapes were similar: round, gorgeous breasts framed by seductive curves all down to the waist, culminating in sexy hips and slender thighs that lent much to the imagination. The shape of her face was even the same, down to the small, kissable lips that would draw him in every time they puckered.

There was only one major difference. Whereas "his" Jeanne d'Arc, heroic spirit, was sweet and endearing, especially when expressing intimacy with him, the black Jeanne, "Jeanne Alter", was more open and aggressive with her actions. It was as if she were a naughty demon taking refuge in Jeanne's sacred form, corrupting it into a tempting, delicious entity, which went on to entice him with coy words and furtive, heated touches.

Both could give him hard-ons. Heck, it was the fact that the black Jeanne could even make him react in such a way that made it quite a difficult situation. But Sieg could not help it; she still looked like his lovely Jeanne, and in addition, also knew just how to push all his buttons.

This latest attack was unfair, and he should be forgiven if he were to be called out on it. Somehow, Jeanne Alter had managed to stick her hot, bubble butt against him, and had contrived to keep it rubbing against his crotch. He couldn't just shove her off, and if he did have a mind to, he would have to grab hold of her bare hips, which showed off her pale, supple skin and the cute little bellybutton on her navel.

"Sieg, you don't have to hold back, you know," Jeanne said, a lewd expression on the holy maiden's face. While he was used to seeing his Jeanne's face writhe from pleasure, she never got quite to this Jeanne's level. She wiggled her hips, grinding her warm thighs against his, turning him even more hot and bothered.

"But I can't," he pleaded. "I've got... Jeanne...!"

"You do have her," she whispered, voice sultry as can be. She looked over her shoulder at him invitingly, her gaze smoldering with the promise of much more sensual pleasures. "You can have her. All. You. Want." She smirked triumphantly when, upon turning around to press the front of her body against him, Sieg did nothing but pant, his eyes glazed over from reciprocal lust.

Jeanne's hand palmed over the fabric of his pants, caressing his thighs until her fingers brushed against the obvious tent on his crotch. Both hands now teased and flicked over the hidden surface of Sieg's formidable homonculus cock. Then, she laid her palm over his chest, running it over his shirt until shivers ran up his spine. Sure enough, Sieg did not react but in his best, welcoming manner, allowing the dark Jeanne to run roughshod over him and his libido. To seal the start of their little tryst, Jeanne dared to give his hot, engorged shaft a little squeeze. She smiled playfully at him, waiting for his answer.

Victory was assured when Sieg answered by running his hands over Jeanne's smooth, bare waist, feeling flesh so damned familiar to his girlfriend's. He squeezed and kneaded her well-sculpted ass-cheeks, drawing a squeal from her throat.

Soon enough, buttons were undone, zippers opened, clothes thrown to the side; and now they were two almost naked people rubbing their warm skin against the other. Jeanne was down to her black lingerie, an ensemble that showed off her bombshell physique in all its glory. Still, Sieg could not bring himself to feel the guilt, drawn by the allure of the sexy femme in front of him.

"Oh, you're a strong little dragon aren't you, my dear?" Jeanne said, her smile twisted. She had pried his cock free, and now admired the turgid length. "I want to mount it. Ride it. You'll do that for me, won't you, Sieg?" she asked, teasing his glans with her panty-covered crotch. Her hips moved and swayed, then used the tip of his hard length to slide down through the gap of her panties and underneath the fabric, giving Sieg his first feel of her moist, smooth nethers. Then she moved up, expertly balancing on the balls of her feet to pull her panties off herself using his cock as a pin, until the fabric fell and pooled at the base of his length.

"You were really going to refuse this?" Jeanne asked, a little mockingly, her pussy lips seemingly taunting his erect cock, which strained upward like a tower; yet was never was able to touch her glossy pink slit, which remained hovering out of reach. "But say no more. I want-I need to ride this dragon to the very depths of pleasure. I'll take you there with me, to the Hell of infinite sighs and moans."

It was as if he'd been turned completely dumb. It was plain to see the nectar dripping slowly from within Jeanne's nectars, proving the woman's wanton need. An ugly, overpowering instinct surged from within Sieg, his blood calling out for him to claim and conquer this woman, to dye her completely in his colors.

When she finally tired of the teasing (or she was as impatient to begin as he), the first touch of contact between her pussy and his cock sent a shiver through them, and through her too, as he could see. Sieg was panting loudly now, his hips rocking, straining at the leash. When she finally impaled herself on him in one impulsive motion, Sieg groaned from the feel of her velvety folds surrounding him, even if it was only for a few inches of his shaft. Jeanne, meanwhile, wore the widest grin even as she wrapped her arms around the back of his neck, her hips and thighs twitching as shudders of pleasure ran through her.

It seemed she intended to draw out this betrayal for as long as she could, as she took her time swallowing up the rest of him completely. Sieg felt like he'd succumbed to a succubus' seduction, his cock now the price for his fall from grace as it was mercilessly devoured by a hot furnace of bliss. The long, drawn-out sensations of his cock spearing through inch after inch made him grit his teeth. Finally, when he was fully sheathed, an electric shudder ran through Sieg's spine.

"God, Jeanne, you're so-"

"Good? Better than that paltry reflection?" the black Jeanne grinned, her fingers tracing under his chin. "I know, my dear. "After this, my pussy is something that you will never, ever forget. Every time you make love to her from now on, you shall think of me. Everything she does to please you, you will compare to me, and of how I did it better. She will figure second in your thoughts-someone to love, but not someone who can give you the ultimate, most exquisite pleasure. You shall always long to stick your cock into this hot, welcoming pussy, wanting to fuck me until our eyes roll back."

"No... I won't-"

"Fufu..." She squeezed his cock, making him literally gasp. "You're an honest dragon. That's what makes you cute. That's why I like you." She began to rock her hips, forcing his cock through the flesh trap of her insides, causing him to seethe from the base pleasure. Already his instincts came to the fore, pushing up and assaulting her even as she did the same to him, returning to that most primal mating dance, of giving and receiving, of giving pleasure and being pleasured. Jeanne's words were even getting to him. As they mated, Jeanne's face kept flashing in his mind, but the frequent jolts of pleasure quickly returned him to reality; and so his girlfriend's calm face was quickly and easily replaced by this other Jeanne's, with its lewd, open-mouthed panting. The guilt eventually drained away into the maelstrom of inexhaustible lust; as Sieg's mind slowly associated all the pleasure of sex with Jeanne Alter's face instead of his girlfriend's.

She bounced on top of his hips, her long, silver hair, matted by sweat, swinging freely as she turned her head from side to side. Her breasts jiggled, and Sieg leaned forward to capture her nips in his mouth, gaining an advantage in their dance. Soon, the unmistakable cries and moans, proof of her mounting pleasure, began to fill the room, right as their affair began to build towards the climax. Her pussy tightened even more around his shaft, clinging to it like she were laying claim; all while Sieg began to thrust up deep and fast, his cock now hitting many different pleasure spots within her all within a short space of time. She rode the turbulent dragon all the way to the distant peak.

Eventually, that peak did come, and Sieg was pleased to at least see the dark, teasing Jeanne succumb to it first. She'd tensed up, her fingers digging in painfully at his skin. Still, Sieg's orgasm was also on the horizon.

"Ohh yes... yes... do it my dragon. Do it! Do it!"

"Graah!"

Sieg's cock exploded in thick, adulterous waves, his rich semen bursting up to formally complete their illicit affair. While her pussy convulsed and milked him for all his worth, his jizz flooded her womb full to bursting. Jeanne screamed, her head thrown back, showing off her pale, beautiful throat. Soon, the witch of France basked in the pleasure of being filled by fertile cum, proof of her successful seduction of Sieg. Moments later, she was overjoyed to feel him still hard within her; though covered by their mutual juices, his cock still seemed raring to go. And so was she.

"I've captured you, my dragon," she said, cupping his chin. Sieg angrily bit at a finger that got too close, and she let him, let him suck on that, leaving a mark on her skin just the same as he'd done on her breasts. They would be marking each other quite thoroughly from now on.

The illicit congress of a dragon witch and her most prized mount continued, even under the auspices of the normal, sugar-sweet relationship shared by Sieg and Jeanne d'Arc. It was a point of fact that the latter had not even noticed the change in her lover's markings when they made love, for the witch had added her own personal touch: the mark of the infamously greedy Fafnir now marked Sieg as a thoroughly different person, though Jeanne would never notice it. Further, she would even have no chance to notice the tattoo that now adorned the Witch's navel, marking the womb, and the pussy preceding it, as the personal property of that self-same Fafnir. To enslave and be enslaved: that was the new pact the secret lovers shared, and they reveled in that depravity.

She was only able to suspect something going on underneath the surface, as Sieg seemed to grow more closer and friendlier with the (reformed) Jeanne Alter. Sieg was still as kind and attentive as he'd always been. The hint was there, but it was nothing serious. So she dismissed the thoughts.

And yet she would never know that on the times she fell asleep, exhausted by a long bout of lovemaking, Sieg would scurry to the room just next door. There, the darker twin would clean off the other's juices from her lover's cock, before mounting it yet again in another dance that would last the whole night. And when Sieg returned, reinvigorated by the constant fornication, Jeanne would be none the wiser, surmising the heavy stench of cum and exertion on him to be hers.

Well, they were as close to twins as could be. Why would they be any different?

Though Sieg alone would know the difference.

An anonymous commission, thank you.

If you'd like a story commissioned feel free contact me here or on my tumblr at "theruffpusherdottumblrdotcomm".