The Ecstasy of flesh
The brothel in Novigrad appeared before Triss like a long-forgotten dream, shrouded in a haze of memories. The wooden walls, caked with layers of dust, seemed unchanged from many years ago, when she had first crossed this threshold. Murky oil lamps barely pierced the thickening darkness, casting strange shadows that danced across the cracked floorboards. A muffled hum of voices drifted from the dimness, interwoven with occasional sighs and moans echoing from the upper floors, like whispers of forbidden passions, repeating their stories.
The air inside was thick with a distinctive blend of scents: cheap French perfume, used to mask the musty dampness; heavy tobacco smoke hanging over the guests’ heads; and the cloying sweetness of low-grade pastries, leaving a sticky residue on lips and memory alike. It was a familiar sensation: one of fear mingled with curiosity, the ever-present companion in places like this.
Triss’s heart pounded wildly in her chest, like a trapped bird desperately trying to escape its cage. Every man here had come seeking a temporary escape from his daily burdens, just like her.
She approached the bar where an older prostitute with sharp, observant eyes stood. As she drew closer, nervousness tightened around her like a vice. Triss’s fingers nervously twisted the edge of her dark cloak as she closed the final few steps to the counter. Anxiety gripped her, but she gathered the last remnants of her courage and, locking eyes with the older woman, said:
- I need something completely unique... something beyond the ordinary.
The woman studied her carefully, her gaze sweeping over every detail of Triss’s appearance.
- All the men are taken tonight, - she said. - Come back next week if you want to choose someone.
But Triss stood her ground. Her eyes burned with determination. She could feel the blood rushing to her cheeks.
- No, - Triss said firmly. - I need a woman. One who’s willing to do anything... without limits.
For a moment, silence fell — broken only by the distant echo of moaning from one of the rooms. The older woman slowly nodded, as if weighing Triss’s words.
- Oh, I understand... - she said, drawing out the words. - There is one. But her services cost twice as much.
- Money is not an issue, - Triss replied confidently, pulling a small pouch of clinking coins from her cloak — the sound like a melody of freedom.
- Very well, - the woman said, carefully jotting something down in a worn leather notebook. - Room 305. And how should I record your name?
- Triss... I just a Triss, - she said, trying to mask the tremble in her voice.
- Excellent, Miss Triss, - the woman smiled, accepting the payment. - You have exactly one hour. Don’t hold back — enjoy yourself. May your time be... memorable.
With the money exchanged, Triss turned toward the creaking staircase. Each step groaned under her weight, bringing her closer to the unknown — something that might become a turning point in her life. Doubts flickered in her mind, but her resolve remained firm.
She couldn’t deny that lately, her gaze had lingered more and more on women — not just their beauty, but their strength, confidence, the way they moved, laughed, looked her in the eyes. It had started after the curse, after the male organ had been grafted onto her body by magic. At first, she thought it was just the influence of her new flesh, that the spell had altered her perception. But the more she reflected, the more certain she became — this wasn’t something new. It had always been inside her, simply unnoticed.
The girl thought of Ciri. Her adopted sister. Her heart.
Everyone called them sisters. But Triss had always seen Ciri as more than that. She had admired her spirit, her strength, her defiance. She loved her — not as a mother, not as a mentor, but as a woman who could have been her equal. And if not for fate, for war, for the cruel twists of destiny… perhaps everything could have been different.
As she entered the room, Triss was immediately struck by the heavy presence of its decor. The walls were adorned with leather whips, shiny silver balls, and wooden phalluses of various sizes and shapes — creating an atmosphere that was both arousing and slightly unsettling. The dim light of flickering candles cast strange shadows across the polished wooden floor and the bed in the center of the room.
On the white sheets, lying with effortless grace, was the girl. Her brown hair cascaded in waves over her shoulders, and her naked body radiated natural beauty. She was watching the play of candlelight on the ceiling’s patterns as if it were the most fascinating thing in the world.
When Triss quietly cleared her throat, the girl turned sharply, her eyes locking onto the new visitor with instant focus. With a burst of energy, she slid off the bed and hurried toward Triss, her movements full of curiosity and liveliness.
- Ooh, a new client! - she said cheerfully, stopping just in front of her. - What shall we try? Experimenting? The classics? Or something truly special?
Her voice carried a light accent, and her gaze roamed over guest's clothes as if trying to guess her deepest desires. But Triss cut through the chatter with a firm gesture.
- I have a rather unusual request, - she said, meeting the girl’s eyes directly.
The prostitute grinned — as if it were a compliment.
- Oh, unique requests, - the girl waved a hand dismissively. - I've seen it all. Fucked kings, adventurers, common drifters... and even... creatures!
Triss met the girl's curious gaze with a mix of trepidation and quiet embarrassment. A thousand thoughts swirled inside her:
- "Creatures? Could she really mean..."
At that moment, as if sensing Triss’s tension, the prostitute reached out — soft but certain — and slid Triss’s trousers down, placing a hand on her groin. She froze.
Her eyes widened when she saw the penis.
- Whoa... - the prostitute whispered, barely able to contain her surprise.
Before her was not just an unusual anatomy, but a true challenge to every expectation. A woman with a penis — a fusion that forced anyone to reconsider the boundaries of reality and desire.
- Is this... magic? - she asked hesitantly, her voice filled with genuine wonder. - You are a woman, right?
- Yes, but... That's doesn't matter, - Triss replied curtly — though her eyes betrayed something more than mere defensiveness. There was vulnerability there, raw and exposed.
The prostitute seemed to recover from her initial shock. Her lips curled into a faint, almost playful smile, as if she had just accepted a challenge worthy of the deepest passions.
- Fair enough... Interesting, - she murmured.
Triss offered no explanation. No justification. She simply said:
- I need you to accept me.
The girl nodded and slowly dropped to her knees. Her fingers brushed against Triss’s flesh, and she shivered — as if struck by a sudden jolt of electricity. This was new. Exciting. Almost magical.
- Do you want me to... do this to you? - she asked, her voice now huskier, her breath quickening.
- Yes, - Triss replied, trying not to blush.
- It's...Real. By the gods! - the girl whispered before boldly leaning in and flicking her tongue across the tip. Then, like a true master of her craft, she gently took it into her mouth, shooting Triss a look filled with readiness to embrace this new reality.
She worked her lips and tongue with incredible dexterity, each movement as precise as if she were reading the musical notes of Triss’s body. She varied her rhythm and depth with ease, occasionally teasing the shaft with her tongue — sending waves of delicious tension through Triss.
Still trembling from the thrill, the girl slowly rose from her knees like a cat that had just lapped up sweet milk. Her skin shimmered in the flickering candlelight, and her eyes burned with the fire of unquenchable desire.
- Take off your clothes, - she said, gesturing toward the bed with the air of someone inviting Triss to dance with fate itself. - I’ll be right back.
With that, she left Triss alone in the room, stepping out completely naked — a sight that brought a flash of surprise to the sorceress’s eyes. Moments later, she disappeared into the main hall, leaving Triss to her thoughts.
When the girl returned and locked the door behind her, there was a new confidence in her movements. Her hair was now tied into a high ponytail, revealing the elegant curve of her neck — a line that could drive any poet mad. Her face bore the faintest touch of makeup: darker shadows, rosier cheeks, as if she had put on a mask that concealed the true depth of her passion.
- So, Sweety? - the prostitute whispered, stepping closer. - Ready for more?
She guided Triss to sit on the edge of the bed, her eyes glinting with challenge and a playful mischief. Slowly, she let her gaze wander over Triss’s naked body — lingering, assessing, almost teasing
- Choose... Which of my holes do you want? - she purred, crouching slightly to look up at her with a sly, seductive glance. - Or should I just take the reins and show you what I can do?
She gestured toward the wall, where an array of toys hung like instruments in a musician’s arsenal.
Triss lowered her eyes, her cheeks flushed with shyness.
- Just... the mouth, - she managed, her voice trembling slightly.
The prostitute laughed a soft, warm, sultry sound and gently pushed Triss on the small of her back.
— Sweety likes it when someone sucks her, - the girl purred, spreading Triss's legs like the pages of an ancient, forbidden book. - Come on, show me who’s really in charge here.
As the prostitute continued her skilled ministrations on Triss’s cock, her words grew ever more open and sensual. The sensitive flesh already trembled beneath her touch — her fingers, lips, and tongue moving in perfect harmony, stoking the fire burning deep within Triss.
- Ahh, that's it, sweety, - the girl whispered, her voice a velvet caress. - You respond so beautifully...
Each movement of her hands and lips sent surges of sharp arousal through Triss — from the crown of her head to the tips of her toes. Her breasts trembled with each quickened breath, and her legs, wrapped tightly around the girl’s waist, barely restrained the urge to thrust. Each wave of heat that rolled through her body made her not only feel, but see bursts of light flashing at the edges of her vision — as if reality itself were bending beneath the intensity of sensation.
- You must want mooore, - the girl whispered, her voice a sultry murmur between sucks. - So much... Deeper... Oh yeah... There...
She took Triss’s cock into her mouth, but as she felt its length and girth, she realised she couldn’t take it all. But that didn't stop her. Instead, she began to caress him with her lips, moving up and down like an experienced healer who knows where pain is and where pleasure is. Triss moaned, her voice hoarse and animal.
At some point, the witch began to move of her own accord, surrendering to instincts that had long lain dormant in her blood. Her hips moved rhythmically, pushing deeper with each thrust into that wet, burning mouth. The prostitute didn’t resist — quite the opposite, she welcomed every surge as an offering to her skill.
Meanwhile, her own fingers had found their way to her pussy, and now she touched herself, heightening the shared arousal. She was both actress and audience, partner and guide into the realm of pleasure.
Between them, a unique rhythm formed — passionate, elusive, yet primal and wild. Triss, feeling her body cry out for more, couldn’t help but increase the pressure, plunging deeper and deeper into the girl’s willing, heated mouth.
The prostitute, far from passive, let her slick fingers glide across Triss’s smooth skin, tracing lines full of meaning and desire. She pinched Triss’s nipples — always especially sensitive — sending sharp waves of pleasure through her body.
- "Ooh…" - Triss gasped helplessly, the sound sweet and broken.
Finally, the moment reached its peak. A powerful, explosive sensation surged through Triss, bringing her to the edge. The orgasm hit suddenly and hard, shaking her body in waves of convulsive bliss. She cried out — a sound that was both pain and ecstasy entwined — as a strong jet of her essence spilled into the girl’s mouth.
The woman, unwilling to release Triss’s cock, continued her work without pause, accepting the gift with genuine delight. Slowly, she swallowed — like a connoisseur savouring a rare vintage. Her eyes met Triss’s, and in them burned a deep, satisfied gleam.
As the highest peak of pleasure overtook Triss, she gathered the last shreds of her willpower and, barely audible through her moan, whispered an incantation. The magical words dissolved into the air like an invisible veil, slowly fading from around her male organ.
- Mmm... delicious, - the prostitute exhaled with satisfaction. - There you go, sweetheart — savour every moment...
- We've still got half an hour, - she added, not giving Triss a chance to catch her breath. - Maybe we could try something... a little more thrilling?
With those words, she gracefully rolled onto her back, revealing to Triss not only her wet, waiting cunt, but also the deep, mysterious entrance of her anus — inviting and intriguing all at once. The look in the prostitute’s eyes was one of complete readiness, a silent surrender to the promise of new sensations.
Triss, overwhelmed by the storm of emotions, felt her mind begin to yield to instincts — ancient, primal ones that had lain dormant inside her for far too long. The embarrassment that came with this sudden shift in circumstances slowly melted away, blending into the rising heat of desire that pulsed through every cell of her body.
The prostitute lying before her now was no longer just a girl for hire — she was a goddess of love descended from the canvas of a master painter, unveiled and unmasked. Her gaze was direct, bold, yet deeply seductive, like a whisper in the dark that you know you shouldn't follow — but desperately want to.
- Come on, sweety, - she rasped, her voice thick with lust. - Fuck the insatiable Truth.
The words struck Triss like a bolt of lightning. They were profane, almost shocking in their rawness — yet they stirred her more than any spell ever could. Images flickered through her mind, ones she had long buried beneath walls of shame. Fantasies she would never dare speak aloud.
- "Strange name for a girl... especially... with her line of work..." — the thought flitted through Triss's head, before all reason was swept away by the tide of passion.
- Put your cock inside me... - Truth whispered, stretching the lips of her pussy with her fingers, revealing the entrance to her heavenly warmth.
Triss stepped forward. Her hands, still trembling from the aftershocks of her orgasm, now moved with certainty. She guided her cock into the woman’s waiting slit, and the first thrust slid in easily — as if the flesh welcomed her on its own. Inside, it was hot, wet, and impossibly welcoming.
Truth arched toward her, meeting every new thrust with a moan that grew louder, more unrestrained with each second.
- Oh gods, harder... faster... - she demanded, writhing beneath Triss like a serpent in a sensual dance. - Fuck me... Yes... I like that... Yeah!
Triss’s full, firm breasts swayed with every thrust, drawing Truth’s gaze like flames in the dark. The prostitute couldn’t hide her admiration.
- Whoa, what tits you’ve got, sweety! Uh! - she whispered, not bothering to veil her awe. - Yeah... Like two perfect suns shining just for me.
And in the next moment, her lips found one of Triss’s nipples, drawing it into the wet heat of her mouth. Each flick of her tongue, each gentle bite of her teeth sent Triss gasping. It felt as though deep inside her, another orgasm was beginning to stir — but this time, it was different. Slower. Sharper. Sweeter.
Overcome by a storm of sensations, Triss could barely keep up with her own actions. Somewhere in the back of her mind, a question flickered:
- "Why am I doing this?" - but the answer was lost in the waves of pleasure crashing over her, one after another.
- Come on, sweety, don’t hold back, - Truth whispered, pulling away from Triss’s breast. She took Triss’s hand and guided it to her own chest, showing her the way. - Just like that… Feel how much I want you… How you fill me… Oh my gosh, deeper!
With her other hand, she tightly gripped Triss’s ass, pulling her into a rhythm that grew faster, harder with every second.
- Yeah... Stronger… More… - Truth's moans melted into open, raw words. - Give me everything you’ve got… Cum inside me!"
Triss, forgetting everything, surrendered completely to the moment. Her movements became confident, decisive. She was no longer just a witch trying to rid herself of a curse. She had become part of something greater — a single, fleeting particle in the eternal dance of flesh and desire.
Truth was breathing fast and shallow, pressing her entire body against Triss. Her fingers dug into Triss’s shoulders, and her eyes burned with a fire that wouldn’t fade even with the coming of night.
- Sweety, - Truth whispered, - come on… Cum in me… Fill me up… All the way to the bottom.
The words were crude, but they carried a truth that couldn’t be ignored — a command, a plea, and a blessing all at once.
Her fingers slid along Triss’s thighs, tracing an invisible path to the most intimate parts of her body.
- Be my little bitch, - she added with a wicked smile. - Let me feel you fill me… completely.
The words sent a wave of arousal and confusion through Triss. Something deep inside her twisted and turned. She should have said the spell. But how? When every cell in her body was screaming for her to keep going?
- Yes… - Merigold gasped through a moan. - Now… It’s coming… Fucking now…
In the final moment, as tension reached its peak, Triss managed to remember the incantation. Quietly, but clearly, she whispered the spell. Almost at the same instant, her cock shuddered and a powerful stream of cum filled Truth's pussy.
Truth cried out, her body convulsing with the orgasm that answered every one of her moans.
- O goddess... - she rasped. - What a powerful bitch you are...
Spoken in the afterglow of pure bliss, the words felt more like a compliment than an insult.
When it was over, Triss slowly rose and began gathering her things. The prostitute remained lying there like a warrior after a battle — one in which both sides had emerged victorious. A satisfied, almost smug smile played across Truth’s lips.
- Thank you, - Triss said quietly, smoothing the folds of her tunic and trying to steady herself. - For everything.
Truth propped herself up on her elbows, her eyes glowing with warmth and admiration.
- For what? - she smirked. - It's my job... though I’ll admit, I don’t meet a client like you every day. Many men haven’t fucked me the way you did.
She paused, then added with a knowing look:
- And if you ever need someone to help you remember how good it feels to truly let go...Or fuck someone! You know where to find me.
The words touched Triss gently but deeply. She smiled — genuinely. The first real smile she’d allowed herself in a long time.
As she stepped into the corridor, she paused. Thoughts swirled in her mind like autumn leaves caught in the wind. What had just happened? Why had she let herself go so freely? Had those two years of detachment truly erased the old Triss — the one who knew the price of desire and never feared wielding it?
Memories of the past and visions of the future tumbled through her mind. Yes, once she had chased recognition and a place in society, often sacrificing her own wants for status and reputation. But now... this transformation had turned her life upside down. Those long three years of isolation had cut her off so completely from the familiar, from what once felt normal, that now, even the simplest situations surprised her.
- I think I’ve forgotten what it feels like to be happy, - she whispered, staring at the cracked walls as if they might understand.
Descending the creaking staircase, Triss made her way toward the exit, ignoring the curious glances cast in her direction. Her mind swarmed with thoughts. What had she done? Not the curse, not the spell, not the ritual — but something far more daring. She had allowed herself to be free. Not as a witch, not as a former member of the Lodge, not as a fugitive — but simply as a woman.
A woman with a man’s "gift".
Yes, but still a woman.
And that simplicity felt as foreign as it was intoxicating.
Triss stepped out of the brothel like one emerging from the gates of another world — a place where flesh and magic had entwined in an inseparable knot. Each step away from its doors felt like a step into the past, toward her true self — and yet, also toward a new Triss she had not yet fully come to understand. The wind played with the edge of her cloak, as if reminding her that her journey was far from over.
She decided to stop by the "The Kingfisher Inn" — not for wine or conversation, but for memories. For the people who were still part of her world.
Inside the tavern, an unusual silence reigned — almost unnatural. There was no sign of Dandelion. No laughter, no sharp wit, no presence at all. Just the flickering shadows cast by oil lamps, and the low murmur of the bartender polishing goblets as if they might whisper the secrets of past nights to him.
But Priscilla was there.
Triss smiled when she saw her. The rounded belly, the softness in her gaze, the voice — like a spring breeze. Priscilla rushed into Triss’s arms, and to the witch’s own surprise, that warmth filled her chest with something bright and unfamiliar.
They talked for a long time — about life, about family, about the future. About how Dandelion, for all his recklessness, had changed. Calmer. More attentive. Perhaps even more caring.
- To be honest, - Triss said, taking a sip of ale from yet another tankard, - I can’t really picture Jaskier as a father. He’s always been so... chaotic.
Priscilla laughed, placing a gentle hand over Triss’s.
- You know, life changes people, - she replied, a quiet confidence in her voice. - Julian has become much more responsible.
- I hope he can handle it, - Triss said, genuinely happy for her friend.
- I’m sure he will, - Priscilla confirmed. - And we’ll be a wonderful family.
She paused, then added with a smile:
- By the way, would you like to try our homemade mead? Jaskier brews it especially for friends.
Triss nodded, but for a brief moment, her thoughts drifted — to a girl with fierce eyes and a wild heart, whose laughter once echoed like freedom itself. Ciri. The memory lingered, bittersweet and tender, like a wound that had finally begun to heal.
Triss was happy for them. But deep inside, a question stirred:
- "What’s left of me?"
She didn’t feel lost. But neither did she feel whole.
By evening, the sky over Novigrad had turned the shade of violets and golden fire, promising the coming of dusk. Leaving the tavern, Triss made her way home. She chose the forest path, though she could have simply opened a portal. But she wanted to walk. Wanted to hear her own footsteps, the rustle of leaves, the whisper of wind in the treetops. She wanted to feel .
Passing a small village on the edge of the road, Triss suddenly felt a familiar sensation — the same magical vibration she had sensed from the cursed black house in Novigrad. The pulse was so strong, so unmistakable, that she froze mid-step, rooted to the spot.
She stopped. Her heart beat faster — not with fear, but with premonition. Her gaze swept across the village houses, most of them cloaked in darkness except for a few candlelit windows. She could feel the presence of magic, hidden beneath the surface calm — the kind of energy that made the hairs on her arms rise.
- From where...? - Triss whispered, trying to pinpoint the source of the power. - What is happening here?
Overcoming her caution, she stepped into the village. Her heart pounded in rhythm with the earth beneath her feet. Her thoughts tangled, trying to unravel the mystery of the magic that now pulled at her like a magnet.
A barn. Animal corpses. Traces of runes. And in the distance — a well, like an open eye leading into another world. A chill ran down Triss’s spine. She knew something sinister was happening here.
Approaching the old well, she heard footsteps behind her and instinctively turned. In the same instant, a powerful spell flew toward her. But Triss, quick as ever, managed to activate a protective shield — just in time. In a flash, she was swallowed by the well’s water and plunged into the darkness below.
Emerging from the water, Triss looked around. Stone walls surrounded her — the catacombs. Faint magic flickered above. She was on her hands and knees, soaked from head to toe, her clothes and body heavy with water.
Right in front of her stood Philippa Eilhart. Her face was twisted in tension.
- Philippa? - Triss whispered, shaking herself from the water.
- Merigold, who asked you to come here?
Philippa’s voice was sharp, but beneath it lay a note of concern. In her hands, she held strange devices — ancient-looking compasses — and her fingers were swiftly tracing runes in the air.
Triss noticed Philippa was still blind, and that only deepened the unease in the air.
- Damn it! - Philippa cursed, checking her instruments. - We have to leave. They can track our trail.
- Philippa, what is going on? - Triss demanded, but Philippa gave no answer. Focusing, she gathered her belongings and with a sweep of her hand, threw a vial against the wall — opening a portal.
- Are you coming? - she shouted.
Without hesitation, Philippa dove into the portal, and Triss hurried after her. They emerged in the familiar forest where Triss had walked only moments ago.
- Open a portal to safety. Now! - Philippa ordered.
Triss concentrated. Magic responded slowly, as if reluctant to leave. But finally, the portal opened — to her home, to the attic, where old books lay covered in dust and candles waited patiently for their turn.
They vanished just as, behind the trees, a figure appeared. A stranger.
Hidden.
He watching.
THE END OF PART FOUR