Warrior Training System

"So, it seems you made my granddaughter quite happy," Analisa said, lifting the top layer of her nun’s robe. Cassian, following her instructions, helped undo the knots securing her veil and carefully removed the underveil.
Her gray hair, long and neatly styled into a bun, was finally revealed, giving her a dignified, mature appearance. Yet, that was only the beginning—many more layers of clothing remained, and if things were going the way Cassian feared, there was still much more to be uncovered.
"Yes, my liege..." Cassian replied, his voice careful. Analisa’s eyes flicked toward him, a subtle mixture of surprise and amusement dancing across her face. "Oh? And by doing what?" she asked, her tone light, almost teasing, as if testing his composure.
"Following everything she asked... just the way she likes it, and it always seems to make her happy," Cassian said, carefully lifting the coif that covered the upper half of her chest. The gesture revealed the true fullness beneath, giving her figure a mature, commanding presence without making her look aged.
Her neck, exposed now, was smooth and supple, a stark contrast to the more imposing chest below—an elegant balance of youth and maturity.
"Well, then," Analisa said, her voice soft, edged with a growing curiosity rather than the sudden excitement of before, "do what you’ve done for my granddaughter... and let’s see if it can make her grandmother happy too."
She turned to him, her gaze expectant, playful, but now tinged with a subtle nervousness, like she was dipping a toe into something thrilling and unknown.
"As my liege wishes..." Cassian murmured, reaching for the belt that cinched her dress at the waist. "But first... should I remove your clothes?"
Analisa’s patience remained steady but controlled. "I said—do as my daughter taught you. Don’t ask questions. Everything is fine."
Cassian blinked at her calm assertiveness; only moments ago, she had seemed almost indifferent. "Then... I’ll be in your care," he said, loosening her belt. His hand cupped her face, tilting it toward him, and before she could respond, he pressed his lips to hers.
She froze, tongue brushing his in surprise, and as she started to recover, a slow warmth spread through her, softening the initial shock. Her movements became responsive, sucking on his tongue with surprising eagerness. Cassian’s eyes widened; there was no hesitation in her actions, and her gaze burned with a lust he had only ever seen in Lucy, the most experienced woman he had been with.
Brigid’s grandmother seemed more confident than he had expected, pressing her generous, well-formed chest against him. Cassian deepened the kiss, taken aback by her skill.
The whole talk about doing whatever Brigid wanted to make her happy had been a ruse. In truth, Cassian was simply doing what he pleased with her body, and she enjoyed it all the same. He had only framed it that way to keep Analisa from probing further—but now, he found himself granted full freedom to take control, and she didn’t resist.
For now, he was stuck in the kiss, treating it like a forbidden indulgence—sweet, intense, and scandalously overwhelming. Analisa seemed equally intent, clamping onto his face as if she wanted to match him in every bit of intensity.
She only pulled back when she got a little breathless, eyes glinting with amusement at the wide, hungry grin on Cassian’s face—a grin so different from the composed demeanor he had been keeping before.
"Well, look at that—Brigid’s not the only one enjoying herself," she said, smirking, the hint of playfulness softening what could have been a harsh comment.
"You got that right, my liege..." Cassian replied, grabbing her robe and peeling it away with exaggerated care, as if unveiling a masterpiece. "Following her orders has been a blast, and apparently she’s just fine letting me do... well, whatever I want with her very cooperative, lewd little body," he added, voice dripping with mock solemnity.
Her face disappeared under the avalanche of fabric, hands flailing instinctively to cover herself—because, sure, that always worked. She probably meant to protest, maybe throw some scolding words, but the robe had already claimed her arms. Cassian’s voice chimed in, perfectly deadpan: "And now, it’s my turn to have some fun with you too."
Before she could even think of a witty comeback, she was on the bed, bra still stubbornly clinging, robe hopelessly tangled over her face, hands trapped, and her lower half awkwardly exposed—because subtlety was out of fashion today, and there were no panties.
Cassian blinked in mild surprise—this sweet-looking woman, modest in her nun robes, wasn’t wearing any panties. He had just started taking in the generous details of her body when an angry voice cut through his thoughts.
"You want to die? Unbind my hands this instant!" she snapped.
Normally, she could have ripped through the clothes in a heartbeat, but this time, a flicker of excitement beneath the anger held her back.
"What’s the matter, my liege? I’m just... following your instructions—doing what the young lady makes me do to her, doing to you," Cassian said, voice laced with mock innocence.
Her hands froze, muffled by the fabric over her face. "She... she likes to get bound? I didn’t know Brigid liked this kinky stuff?" Her tone wavered, curiosity mingling with her initial indignation.
"Well, I’ve never been bound myself during... moments like this, but I’ve bound plenty under me, and they seemed to enjoy it," she continued with an amused shrug. "But let’s be adventurous today. Go on—do your thing. Does she like to be talked down to, dirty talk and all? I want to feel exactly how Brigid experiences it..."
"If you say so, my liege," Cassian said with a sly smirk, "but just so you know... I won’t stop if you tell me to. I don’t with her either... so bear with me if I seem a bit forceful."
He let his eyes wander over her body. Like Brigid, she had a wide, generous bottom, but she was taller—and being older, her stomach bore a few folds. Still, her waist curved sharply to her wide hips. And on top? Unlike Brigid, she had a truly abundant chest that even her bra struggled to contain.
As his hands explored the folds of her stomach, he murmured, "I’m not stopping until this loose old cunt of yours remembers the shape of my dick."
Analisa’s initial anger flared, but her pulse quickened in tandem with a slow, growing anticipation. It had been ages since anyone spoke to her so boldly, yet she didn’t resist—after all, she wanted to feel exactly what her granddaughter experienced.