Hunter's Rise
Copyright© 2025 by Mezu
Chapter 48: Zara’s Training Continues With Quincy
Fantasy Sex Story: Chapter 48: Zara’s Training Continues With Quincy - The story takes place in a world relatively similar to the real-life but with monsters. The main character is a monster hunter called Zara Cromwell. She and other monster hunters gain superpowers through experiments to be able to fight stronger monsters in the future. Warning: the series showcases various kinks and fetishes.
Caution: This Fantasy Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Fa/Fa Mult Consensual NonConsensual Rape Reluctant Lesbian BiSexual Heterosexual Hermaphrodite Futanari Paranormal Furry Magic Vampires Were animal Zombies Incest Mother Son FemaleDom Rough Sadistic Gang Bang Group Sex Orgy Black Female White Female Anal Sex Analingus Cream Pie Double Penetration Exhibitionism First Facial Fisting Lactation Oral Sex Sex Toys Tit-Fucking Amputee BBW Big Breasts Body Modification Hairy Public Sex Size ENF
“Looks like it worked perfectly, or near perfectly at least,” Ethan said, looking at Inez, who was busy sucking David’s cock beneath the table.
“Yeah, she is totally brainless right now,” Robin nodded.
“Plus, she sucks like a vacuum,” David said, casually eating his toast while Inez sucked his cock’s head like there was no tomorrow.
“Now, what I want to know is whether her abilities are still working the same way or not.” Ethan said, “Take her for a walk and test her powers on something.”
Zara came back to the park as the orange light of late afternoon bathed the grass. She immediately spotted Quincy; it was hard not to, really. The girl was standing on one leg in the middle of a stone clearing, balanced with inhuman precision as she held a high kick pose that seemed impossible to maintain.
“You’re late,” Quincy said without looking down, her tone more teasing than angry.
“Had to stop for an energy drink,” Zara replied, stepping closer.
Quincy finally lowered her leg, grinning as she shifted her weight easily onto her bare feet. Her violet eye gleamed in the light. The two horn-like buns gave her a mischievous silhouette, and her toned body looked like it was built entirely for motion.
“I saw Pixie’s latest posts about the training in the group chat. She really enjoyed it. I’m curious about it too, but more interested in the possible future result.”
“Well, I don’t like the method, but as you could see, it can have some positive effect on you. And some of the others who tried this with me said the same.”
“I hope. I hate nothing more than wasting the time I could have spent on training.” She grinned.
Before Zara could reply, the air split behind them. A rectangular portal bloomed into view.
Quincy crossed her arms. “Guess that’s our cue.”
Zara sighed softly, shaking her head. “I just hope she got better partners for me.”
“Don’t sound so dramatic,” Quincy said, already walking toward the portal with confident, bouncing steps. “Let’s see what kind of monsters Aritimi’s cooked up for us today.”
Zara followed her, and they stepped into the light together.
Aritimi and the rest of the Argentos were already waiting for them, curious to see the show.
“Yes! I hoped you’d be the next!” Aritxene exclaimed as she noticed Quincy.
Quincy didn’t even wait for Aritimi’s call and slipped out of her clothes. Once she was done, she broke into a sprint toward Artixene and gave her a tight hug and a short kiss on her lips.
“You’re slow, Zara,” Aritimi snickered, looking at Zara, who was about to finish undressing.
“I want to use these clothes later, so I can’t just discard them and throw them on the floor,” She answered, folding her jeans.
“Okay, I’m ready now,” She announced once her clothes were in a neat pile.
“Alright. For this session,” she said, “we’ll begin with something divine. Something that warms you up before the real deal.”
A glowing gold circle appeared in midair, and from within, the first monster floated out: a golden hand, perfectly human yet unnervingly smooth, its skin engraved with swirling, luminous markings. Feathered wings sprouted from where the wrist should have been, their white plumes tipped in light. Then another hand followed. And another.
Within seconds, the air was filled with dozens of them, fluttering and gliding around the room like a flock of bizarre birds.
“Whoa! What are those?” Quincy asked.
“They’re called Seraphalms,” Artamas explained, crossing her arms with a faint smile. “Angelic remnants. They were the result of a fight between me and an angelic monster. They’re pretty smooth.”
Quincy grinned. “So basically, flying hand massages from heaven.”
Artamas nodded. “Yes, and they are good at what they are doing. I tried them yesterday because my back was aching, and then I felt like I was reborn.”
As she finished speaking, the golden hands began to descend, wings fluttering softly as they surrounded the two girls.
“You’d better sit down, otherwise they will make you fall as the sensation gets stronger,” Artamas added from the side. They did as she told.
Zara felt the first touch, a warm palm pressing firmly against her shoulder blade. It moved with professional precision, kneading the tension from her muscles as another hand drifted to her lower back. The sensation was immediate: heat bloomed beneath her skin, dissolving knots she hadn’t even noticed.
More hands joined, one tracing the curve of her spine, another sliding up her thigh with smooth, unhurried strokes. Every touch left trails of liquid warmth, the engraved markings on their skin pulsing faintly as they worked. Zara closed her eyes, a sigh escaping her lips. It felt less like a massage and more like being remade, cell by cell.
Beside her, Quincy laughed breathlessly as a Seraphalm cupped her jawline, thumb stroking her cheekbone. “Oh, hell yes,” she murmured, arching into the touch as two more hands glided down her ribs. One hovered at her hip, fingers splaying possessively, while another skimmed the sensitive dip of her collarbone.
Quincy’s violet eye fluttered shut, her grin softening into something raw and unguarded. “They’re ... really good,” she panted, shuddering as a palm pressed flat against her abdomen.
The sensation intensified for Zara, not invasive, but insistent. A hand cradled the back of her neck, fingertips massaging her scalp while others worked her arms, unraveling tension from bicep to wrist. One drifted lower, tracing the curve of her ass with feather-light strokes before kneading firmly.
She gasped, hips jerking forward involuntarily as warmth pooled low in her belly. Another hand slid between her thighs from behind, not pushing, just resting there, its heat seeping through her skin like sunlight. She bit her lip, trying to stay still, but her body arched into the touch, craving more.
“They don’t waste time, do they?” she breathed, voice thick.
Quincy laughed, the sound ragged. “Tell me about it.” A Seraphalm had cupped her breast, thumb circling her nipple while another teased the sensitive skin just below her navel. Two more worked her legs, one kneading her calf, the other sliding up her inner thigh with agonizing slowness.
Quincy’s eye snapped open, pupil dilated. “Fuck,” she hissed as a hand slipped between her legs from the front, palm pressing firmly against her mound. She rocked against it, shamelessly chasing friction. “Okay, Artamas wasn’t kidding. This is divine.”
Her breath came in ragged gasps. Two Seraphalms worked her breasts, fingers teasing her nipples into hard peaks while another explored lower, fingertips tracing intricate patterns over her inner thighs. One drifted upwards, brushing against her clit. Quincy jerked, a choked moan escaping her lips. “Oh, yes,” she demanded, hips lifting off the floor slightly. The hand obeyed, circling with deliberate, maddening pressure.
For Zara, the sensations deepened. A Seraphalm cradled her breast, its warm palm perfectly molding the curve while its thumb flicked rhythmically against her nipple. Another slid firmly between her thighs from behind, fingers parting her folds with gentleness. The heat intensified as a fingertip found her entrance, circling slowly before dipping shallowly inside. Zara gasped, her head falling back against the supporting hand massaging her scalp. The friction was exquisite.
Two hands were now working Quincy’s clit in tandem, one circling with firm pressure, the other stroking lightly, creating an overwhelming counterpoint. A third explored her pussy, fingers slick with her own arousal, teasing deeper with each slow thrust. Quincy’s hips bucked uncontrollably. “Fuck! Yes! Don’t stop!” Her only eye squeezed shut again, her body taut as a bowstring.
Beside her, Zara felt the coiled tension snap. The hand inside her curled upward, finding that perfect spot while another teased her clit relentlessly. Heat exploded through her, a wildfire racing down her spine, pooling low and molten in her belly.
She cried out, a raw, unfiltered sound as her body arched off the floor, trembling violently. Every muscle clenched and released in waves, the sensation less a peak and more a plateau of pure, shuddering release. The hands didn’t relent; they intensified, prolonging the aftershocks until she gasped for air, sweat-slicked and boneless.
Quincy’s climax hit a second later. It ripped through her with a choked scream, her body bucking wildly against the persistent hands. Her eye rolled back, blind and unseeing, as the Seraphalms maintained their rhythm, drawing out her pleasure into a seemingly endless cascade. She shuddered, fingers digging into the floor, every nerve ending singing.
“Holy ... fuck!” she gasped between breaths, collapsing back onto the cool stone, chest heaving. The hands gentled instantly, shifting to soothing strokes along her limbs and torso.
Meanwhile...
Inez walked through the park, dressed like a prostitute. David chose her outfit, which consisted of a pair of pink high heels and a fishnet dress that left everything visible beneath, so she was 99% naked.
She even walked like a slut, hips swaying seductively. It didn’t take long before a guy approached her.
“Hi, sweetie,” he murmured, “Hmm, you’re a bit old for my taste, but you got a pretty fit build.” he examined Inez. “How much for a blow?”
A strange, green liquid appeared in Inez’s palm, then she slapped the man in the face. He stared at her in confusion, but before he could say anything, he began to feel dizzy and fell to his knees before passing out.
“Huh! Good job,” David said, clapping, as he walked out from the bushes with Rina. “But what should we do with the corpse?”
“Nothing.” Rina said, examining the man, “She just knocked him out.”
“Seriously? What kind of shitty poison augmentation she has?”
“Sorry, Daddy,” Inez said, “My poison is only good at killing small creatures. It can knock out humans at best.”
“Better than nothing,” Rina said. “Now get into the car.”
“Why did we have to go to the neighboring town, by the way?” David asked, slapping Inez’s ass as they walked.
“Because there’s a chance that we could run into somebody she knows if we walk around with her in Crowsend,” Rina answered.
“Hmm, can we stop at a certain place on our way back home?” He asked.
“What kind of place?”
“One of my friends has a tattoo parlor. I want their help to pimp up this old hag a little bit.”
“Meet your next partners,” Aritimi announced as two portals snapped into existence, one with shiny, prismatic light, the other pulsing with deep red.
From the first portal stepped out something that looked nothing like a monster, but more like a sex goddess. She was a gorgeous naked futanari, covered in glittery diamond dust. Her entire body gleamed like living crystal, every inch refracting the light in tiny rainbows. Her hair, a cascade of diamond strands, moved like liquid glass, and her eyes shone with inner fire, glowing faintly with a rose tint.
“Welcome. I’m Diane from the tribe of Diamond Damsels.” She introduced herself politely.
“Ah, my most beautiful and magnificent trophy,” Artemina said as Diane stepped closer.
Then the second guest emerged with a confident smirk. She was another naked futanari, only wearing a pair of red boxing gloves. She was blonde, tall, and athletic, her body built like a professional fighter’s, all definition and poise. Her gloves gleamed with a leathery sheen. With a second glance, Zara realized that it wasn’t a glove; it was growing out of her body.
“Hi, girls! I’m Betty, champion of the Battle Babes.” She introduced herself with a cocky smile.
“She’s maybe a champion, but only took me a few minutes to knock her out,” Artemelle said proudly from the side.
“Pupils, your partners are ready, so let’s go,” Aritimi said, pointing at the beds.
“You heard it,” Diane appeared beside Zara, “let’s fuck.”
And with that, Zara and Diane walked to a bed, while Quincy and Betty strode to the other one.
“Alright, let’s get this started,” Betty said, cracking her knuckles, or rather, the red leather-like extensions that were part of her hands. She hopped onto the bed with a fighter’s grace, landing in a crouch that made the mattress groan. Quincy followed.
“So, champion, how rough can you get?” Quincy asked, stretching her arms overhead, muscles rippling.
Betty grinned, flexing her gloved fists. “Rougher than a bar fight in an Asura, sweetheart. But I’m told you can take it.”
Diane guided Zara to the other bed with a hand that felt cool and smooth as polished stone against her skin. Her cock was already hard, like a shiny diamond bar. But it felt surprisingly soft as Zara began to stroke it, like a normal phallus.
Beside them, Betty’s fist slammed into Quincy’s stomach with a wet thud that echoed off the walls.
Quincy grunted, doubling over only to spring back with a wild laugh, her violet eye blazing. “That’s all you got?” she taunted, sweat already slicking her shoulders.
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