A Blessing and the Brand of Debauchery

The evening sun sank, night deepened, and morning came once more.

The chirping of little birds carried in from outside, all the way down to the basement—and mingling with those gentle sounds of nature came a soft knock at the door.

"… Who is it?"

"It's me. May I come in?"

"Yeah. Now's fine."

As Yoal answered from atop the bed, a young woman peeked her face in through the door.

A stature even smaller than Almaeira's. Her silver hair, tied in twin tails, swayed lightly, and her sand-colored eyes abruptly narrowed to slits.

The ladies' maid in her livery—Aery Heiram—entered with a brisk, practiced gait, a large iron pot in one hand.

"What an awful stench."

"… Sorry. Didn't have time to clean up."

"I can see that for myself, and I expected as much."

"It's a real help to have such a capable guard around at a time like this. And I don't mean that as sarcasm."

"I've brought a meal, but perhaps it wasn't needed?"

"… Sorry. I'd be glad to have it, truly."

Aery let out a small sigh and set the iron pot down by the hearth. With practiced hands she lit the fire and, adjusting the flame, began heating it over a low simmer.

"Let me make a correction."

"Correct what?"

"That I once called you an evil rapist."

"No, I don't think that was wrong, though…"

"Take a good look."

So saying, Aery pointed to the girl beside Yoal.

The "Witch Queen" Almaeira. She rested her small head against Yoal's arm, fast asleep, breathing softly and peacefully. A blissful, utterly slack expression on her face, drool even trickling from the corner of her mouth.

For over twenty-four hours the two had gone without food or drink, coupling endlessly, without pause. They had glutted themselves on pleasure to their hearts' content, and now, spent, it was time to rest. And yet their carnal lust showed no sign of settling, which made them a hopeless case—Almaeira was asleep for now, but who could say what would happen once she woke.

"—Never once, until now, has Lady Alma shown such a thoroughly melted sleeping face."

"You've been observing her?"

"Because she was often tormented by nightmares."

"… I see."

Yoal nodded deeply. Recalling the manner of her death, it made sense that she'd be plagued by nightmares.

But the Almaeira of now showed no such sign, her chest rising and falling gently. She nestled her bare white shoulder against Yoal, steeped deep in tranquil slumber.

"Honestly, I can't help but feel grateful. Shal and I could never have brought her to this, not in any number of years."

"… It's nothing to thank me for. I did it because I wanted to—that's one thing, and this is another."

The outcome may have turned out well enough, but that didn't change what he'd done to Aery.

As Yoal shrugged, Aery spoke while watching over the pot.

"Indeed. Not everything can simply be made as though it never happened."

"My thoughts exactly."

"So perhaps I should say instead: for a rapist, not a particularly evil one."

"I honestly can't see what correcting it accomplishes…?"

Aery stacked the charcoal with the poker and adjusted the flame to just the right strength.

Checking the pot as it bubbled and steamed, she turned back to Yoal.

"It's stew. Once it comes to a boil, please have it while it's warm. If Lady Alma doesn't wake, then warm it up again when she does."

"Yeah. Thank you."

"And also, Yoal-sama—"

"… I've thought this before, but can't you do something about that way of addressing me?"

"Then, 'Master.'"

"So you've no intention of changing it, have you?"

"From where I stand, that's simply how it is."

She wasn't wrong, exactly, Yoal thought with a shrug. But given what he'd done, he couldn't shake the sense that it didn't fit.

Aery glanced at him with unmoved sand-colored eyes, then stepped over to the bedside, her footsteps clicking.

"Now then, Master."

"… What is it?"

"—Might I receive my punishment…?"

Her eyes slightly moist, Aery gently lifted the hem of her livery.

Her smooth lower belly, white underwear and all, laid bare before him. Skin so innocent and white it felt almost forbidden.

Yoal stared at it intently, then studied Aery's expression.

Her eyes were wet as though veiled by a thin film, and her cheeks were flushed with a faint heat.

"… Sorry, but"

The moment Yoal began to say it, a pair of slender arms coiled around the man's neck.

"… Mm, nn…" Letting out an entranced, rapturous breath, Almaeira tried to pull him close—though half-asleep as she was, it was hardly going to work.

Yoal mussed her hair and traced over the same words once more.

"Sorry, but I can't."

"Even if I say that doing so would mean I forgive your sins?"

"… You heard that?"

What came to mind was what Almaeira had said up in the church.

Aery nodded without any particular guilt.

"… I see."

"All of us heard it."

"I see…"

So even that mortifying confession had been overheard. Feeling a headache come on, Yoal devoted himself to soothing the half-asleep Almaeira.

"You have no intention of doing so, then."

"There's no point piling on a fresh sin just to be forgiven for the old ones."

"… I'm a little relieved."

"About what?"

Aery suddenly lowered her eyes, let go of the hem she'd been holding up, and for a single instant covered her face with her palm.

The next moment her expressionless face was entirely restored. She raised her head and let her gaze fall on Yoal.

"Because I now understand that you will never betray Lady Alma."

"I'd like to be as faithful as I possibly can."

"To Lady Alma, you mean."

"That's what it comes down to."

Yoal said it without a trace of guilt of his own, and Aery's expression softened ever so slightly.

"That's quite enough. Well then, pardon the intrusion—please take your rest a while longer."

As she turned on her heel, Yoal called out to stop her: "Wait."

Aery turned back with a smooth, unhurried motion and asked over her shoulder.

"… Yes?"

"That curse crest I carved into you—I can dismantle it. No, Charlotte could probably manage it too. What do you want to do?"

"No."

Aery shook her head, sparing few words.

—And then, mischievously, she flipped her skirt up with a flick and showed off her small, firm, plump bottom.

"This is something you carved, but it's also proof of your sin. Don't forget it. I won't let the mark you carved into me be erased. Nor will I erase it myself. That is what I intend to do, and most likely they will do the same. —Remember it, Yoal-sama: the hopeless piece of trash and lowlife who, for a rapist, isn't a particularly evil one."

"Wasn't 'evil rapist' actually the better title…?"

"And that every single night, all alone and lonely, I pleasure my own asshole until I climax."

"… Is that something you want me to remember?"

"… On second thought, please forget it."

Aery's face flushed red all at once, and this time she strode off briskly.

Watching her vanish beyond the door, Yoal let out a small breath.

"… She's probably one of the ones who gives up easily, all things considered."

With a wry smile, he patted Almaeira's little head. Clinging as if for dear life, she tightened her arms and pressed close, rubbing her feverish naked body against him.

Watching Almaeira sleep on, oblivious to the exchange just now, he felt relieved—this was how it should be, Yoal thought. She had suffered more than enough already. He didn't want to put her through any more hardship.

   

"… Oh my, Shal. So you were out here?"

Leaving the basement, Aery stepped out to the front of the abandoned church.

There, Charlotte leaned her back against the wall, idly scanning her surroundings.

"Yeah, figured I'd keep anyone from barging in. Not that it's likely anything would."

"Eavesdropping is hardly something to be praised."

"And I'd say slipping someone a drug is pretty questionable too, wouldn't you?"

"—For that, I honestly do feel I did something I ought to apologize for."

Aery said without changing her expression.

Charlotte's tone was sardonic, but she didn't seem angry. There was even a faint smile on her face.

"Still, it surprises me, Aery. That you'd go and pull off something like that… that man got you too, didn't he?"

"I don't mean it as an excuse, but yes, that's right."

Aery nodded honestly. There was no use hiding it now.

"Well then, Aery. —If you tell me what that man did to you, I might just be willing to forgive you."

"… Ngh."

There's no use hiding it—she wanted to say that, but even so, this was too embarrassing.

Aery's white cheeks flushed a sudden red.

"Wh-why would you ask something like that?"

"If I knew what got done to you, well, maybe I'd be able to tell myself that drugging me was just one of those things, wouldn't I?"

"Please don't talk as if it had nothing to do with you."

Aery's voice was resentful. Charlotte chuckled low in her throat.

It wasn't as if Charlotte truly meant to force it out of her. But if that alone could dissolve the lingering bad blood between them, all the better.

After hanging her head a while, Aery gave her silver twin tails a shake and abruptly lifted her face.

"… M-my rear…"

"Your rear?"

"… My… my asshole. He developed it."

Hearing this, Charlotte laughed. She clutched her stomach and howled.

She laughed so hard that Aery grew indignant—there's no need to laugh that much.

Aery's face was red enough to catch fire—while Charlotte, wiping the tears from her eyes, said:

"… Well, well. To turn the Demon King's Army's finest assassin into an ass-crazy junkie. What an outrageous man."

"Who's an ass-crazy junkie? Who?"

"You're saying it hasn't gone that far?"

"… I-I can't say you're entirely wrong, but…"

There was no point lying now. They'd been companions for twenty years already.

Demon King's Army or no, her resolve was already set.

Now that Almaeira had chosen Yoal Yaotl as her partner, raising a banner of rebellion against the Demon King was unavoidable. This was already an unchangeable fate.

"So, how were the two of them? If things didn't work out after all this, then I got screwed for nothing."

"On that score, rest assured—they looked thoroughly lovey-dovey. I doubt they'll be coming out for a good while yet."

"… Is that so. Then it's fine. Yeah, in that case I've got nothing more to say—"

"You sound just a touch disappointed, if I'm not mistaken."

Aery said flatly. Charlotte let her brows droop, looking a little troubled.

"… Nothing of the sort. Sure, get bedded that thoroughly and a few feelings are bound to bubble up. But that's just the effect of your drug, isn't it? It's not like I've actually fallen for him."

As she spoke, Charlotte roughly ruffled her honey-colored hair.

"… Somehow, even I have to admit that sounds like an excuse."

"So you are aware of it."

"Of course I am. The man's Alma's beloved of many years—I can't very well bring myself to lay a hand on him."

"I thought the same, which is why I tried inviting him to have a go at me one last time, but…"

"What on earth are you doing?"

Charlotte gawked at Aery, the whites of her eyes showing in disbelief.

Carried by momentum, Aery spoke plainly, as if throwing all reservation aside.

"Unfortunately, Yoal-sama appears to be surprisingly straitlaced. I was turned down flat."

"… Can't tell if that's surprising or exactly what I'd have expected…"

Almaeira had often spoken, in fragments, of her former love—Yoal Yaotl.

Piecing together the portrait she painted, one got the impression of a sincere, earnest, gentle man who treated others warmly without being bound by rank or station.

As for the real Yoal Yaotl—where Almaeira alone was concerned, perhaps that portrait held true.

"So basically, he's got no intention of taking responsibility for laying his hands on us."

"Indeed. As far as we're concerned, he's nothing but a trashy, sleazy rapist."

"That's a brutal way to put it."

"It simply means his feelings for Lady Alma alone are the genuine article—and taking even that into account, I'm rather fond of him."

"… So you've sorted out your feelings, then."

Charlotte gave a small snort.

For her too, so long as he didn't make Almaeira cry, that alone made him a more than acceptable man. Far more so than the Demon King, at the very least.

"Yes. So, Shal, why don't you stop blaming it on the drug and just say how you honestly feel?"

"It's not an excuse, I tell you… But, well, you're right. I don't hate him all that much anymore."

The misunderstanding had begun, at its root, with their refusal to accept that Yoal was alive.

Yoal had indeed died once… but who could have imagined the "Legendary Witch Queen" Sherah had a hand in it.

When Aery brought this up, Charlotte heaved an even deeper sigh.

"… Sherah's direct disciple?"

Charlotte had heard that he had some connection to the previous Witch Queen.

But she'd never once imagined that he himself had been her disciple.

"So it seems. He appears to have some measure or other prepared against the Demon King as well—and the theory that she was the one who trained him is highly likely."

"… No wonder I was caught off guard. Loath as I am to admit it."

To begin with.

A little drug in her system or not, Charlotte's combat ability remained intact. No matter how thoroughly her body was invaded by lewd sensations, it meant nothing if he couldn't find an opening in her guard.

For that, an extraordinary base strength was required—.

And Yoal had pulled it off splendidly.

Charlotte nodded, as if it only now clicked into place.

"… Whatever it was that caught Sherah's eye. He looked like nothing but an ordinary man to me."

"His talent down below, perhaps?"

"Isn't that a bit too crude?"

Neither of them had any way of knowing that the jab contained a trace of truth.

In any case, Aery said with a clearing of her throat.

"If we reason it out sensibly, wasn't it his zeal? Even the fact that Yoal-sama was able to return to life comes down, in the end, to being for Lady Alma and her alone."

Yes—all of it.

That he was hauled up from the Underworld. That he apprenticed himself to Sherah. That he ventured alone into the "Witchlands" and forced himself upon three women.

In the end, every last part of it was for no other purpose than to reach Almaeira's side.

"That I got drugged, and that he had you do the drugging, too?"

"That would follow. If we go by his side of the story, at least."

"—Makes it hard to even stay angry."

"My thoughts exactly."

Charlotte went past exasperation and let a soft smile settle at the corner of her mouth.

A faint smile, as though shaking off some trivial inner conflict.

"In that case—well, it's fine. Humiliating, sure, but not a bad one-night dream. It's not as if I'd have any other chance to know a man anyway."

"You were always married to your work, after all, Shal."

"Aery, you're the last one who gets to say that."

"I don't socialize with people to begin with."

"Don't say it like it's something to be proud of."

Both of them had lived far more years than Almaeira ever had.

Easily twice as long as she had, surely.

Part of it was that no man had ever been their match.

Charlotte was far too strong, and Aery far too unapproachable.

They had all but resigned themselves to never knowing romance before they died.

Precisely for that reason—it wasn't a bad dream, Charlotte said.

"As long as I can stay by Alma's side like always, that's enough for me. And being able to watch over Alma's happiness makes it more than I could ask for."

If they raised the banner of rebellion against the Demon King, upheaval in the situation would be unavoidable.

To cope with that turmoil, the strength of Charlotte and Aery would surely be needed.

Even setting all such considerations aside, Yoal had told Charlotte and Aery that he wanted them to stay by Alma's side.

That he hadn't eliminated the two of them by force, thinking back on it now, was surely out of consideration for Almaeira's feelings.

"… I really am glad I didn't kill him."

Charlotte gazed at her own hands and spoke with quiet feeling.

Whether it would even have been possible aside—if she had truly killed Yoal back then.

Charlotte would have been resented by Almaeira for the rest of her life. A mistake she could never have regretted enough.

"Though Yoal-sama might well have come waltzing back from the Underworld again."

"That's plausible enough that I'd rather you didn't say it."

"I jest. But on that point I do agree—had Yoal-sama not come, we would never have seen Lady Alma's contented smile again. Having us at her side and having Yoal-sama there are two very different things."

"Huh. Was it really that nice between them?"

"As different as a widow and a newlywed wife."

"That's far too specific."

As metaphors went it was rather too blunt, but it was so apt there was no arguing with it.

"In that case… I wouldn't mind a share of the leftovers myself," Charlotte laughed.

That Almaeira had often been tormented by nightmares was something Charlotte knew well.

If her suffering could be cleared away, nothing could be better.

For Almaeira had already suffered more than enough.

"'Leftovers,' you say?"

"Hm?"

"Are you angling for a share of the leftovers too, Shal?"

Pfft.

Charlotte spluttered, spraying spit from her lips.

"Y-you heard that?"

That muttering to herself earlier—had it been overheard? Charlotte felt sweat trickle down her cheek.

Aery should have already left by then.

"My ears are my pride. Like it or not, I can't help but hear."

"… It-it was just a momentary lapse. I told you already, didn't I? I could never do anything that would make Alma sad."

"Which is to say, so long as Lady Alma permits it—"

"You don't need to go entertaining a hypothetical like that!!"

Charlotte's cheeks flushed all at once. She pressed her lips into a sullen line and crossed her arms.

Satisfied, Aery stopped her teasing, then sensed a presence and swept her gaze around.

At the same moment Charlotte let her eyes dart about, and there, they found—.

"Shal."

"… You felt it too?"

"It seems an intruder has arrived."

"Alright then. Let's put some spirit into getting rid of them."

A witch whose absurdly voluptuous body was wrapped in a black robe—Nyrn.

Having crept stealthily toward the abandoned church, she caught the two women's gazes and shuddered violently.

   

After Almaeira woke, the two ate their meal and then joined together once more.

As if to reclaim the years they'd lost, they repeated their dense, passionate lovemaking, devouring pleasure with abandon.

Lewd wet sounds and a female's coquettish cries rang out without pause, and one climax after another washed her reason away. Almaeira sobbed in a sweet, utterly melted voice, weaving shameless words again and again.

Without the slightest thought of contraception, he poured his sperm directly and copiously into her womb, and each time Almaeira drowned in a sweet, sublime climax.

The more their reproductive membranes nuzzled together, the greater the pleasure grew, until her melted female cavern became so sensitive that it felt good no matter where it was rubbed. Under his slow, persistent assault, one erogenous zone after another was developed and cultivated, and the more they joined their bodies, the more lewd weak points she gained.

As one day passed into two, there was no longer a single part of her that Yoal's fingers and tongue hadn't touched. He exhausted every position, laying bare even Almaeira's every preference and predilection. Yoal brought to bear the full extent of the technique he'd cultivated, grinding every conceivable flavor of pleasure into Almaeira—so that she could never forget it again, he made her learn it in every last corner of her body. Whatever she begged him for, he readily obliged, and each time he drew from her a thoroughly indecent orgasm face.

—At times he'd have her on all fours like a beast, plunging his monstrously thick manhood deep into her from behind.

"… A-ahn, ahhn… like this, in a position like an animal's… nooo…"

"You're squeezing tighter than before, though… Are you getting excited?"

"Ah… ah, nooo, don't… because this is… this is perverted…"

"That's what makes it good, isn't it. I'm moving now."

"… Ah, ah, ahh, ahh… ahn, ahhn, no… i-it, it feels good…"

He slapped his hips against her rear in a brisk, satisfying rhythm, digging back into the vaginal flesh that clamped down on him. The tight grip made his rod and her walls grind fiercely against each other, and the pleasure it gave Almaeira was fierce as well. Her knees braced against the sheets trembled violently, and love-juices dribbled down her inner thighs.

"Your pussy's twitching. You're even clenching your asshole tight… about to cum already?"

"Y-Yo-al, that spot… nn, no, don't look there…"

"It's alright, there's nothing to be ashamed of. It's cute, Alma's little asshole. I could kiss it and slip my tongue in right this second."

"Ngh… d-don't spread it open… no, I-I'm cumming, I'm cummiiing…!!"

Her small buttocks spread wide open, her adorable pucker twitching—a womb-climax. With her feverish, shameful parts churned about by his thrusts, Almaeira was driven to orgasm in an instant. Her white spine arched taut and supple as she came, her whole body convulsing. Inside, too, her walls clamped down achingly on his rod, making it plain as day that she'd reached her peak.

—And at other times he'd have her straddle him, making her move her own hips.

"… That's it, move your hips just like that, however feels good for you, Alma. So my cock hits right where you want it."

"… I-is it really alright for me… to move this… this lewdly…?"

"Of course it is. It's fine, I'm the only one watching."

"… It's because you're watching, Yoal, that it's embarrassing…"

Even as she shook her head, Almaeira worked her hips in small, jerking motions.

Contrary to her bashful air, her slender waist twisted with skill. She ground the upward curve of his stiff shaft against the roof of her passage, guiding its tip toward her cervix. Her cervix clung wetly to his glans, and at the pleasure of being crushed against it, Almaeira let out an enraptured breath.

"… Nn, ahhh… g-good… this feels good… mm, mn…"

Squeezing her eyes shut, she rolled her waist and swung her rear back and forth, losing herself in the pleasure of sex where she held the reins.

Leaning slightly forward, she rubbed her clitoris against Yoal's lower belly. His coarse pubic hair scrubbed against her erect clit, and Almaeira couldn't help but let slip a high-pitched moan.

She kept swinging her hips in little motions, repeating that kiss of membrane against membrane at her deepest point. Again and again she pressed her cervix and his urethral tip together with wet smacks, rolling her hips to grind them. At the fleshly delight of being churned and mashed, the innocent space between her thighs quivered and spasmed.

"This is the spot that feels good, isn't it?"

"Hii…! D-don't suddenly thrust up like that… ah, mnn…"

"Sorry… Then, we'll keep it like this."

"… Fah… y-yes…"

The instant he thrust up from below with a heavy jolt, Almaeira's vaginal folds rippled and shivered at the onset of a climax.

As she'd instructed, the man kept still, letting only his erection stand rigid. He rested his hands gently on her narrow waist, now and then kneading her breasts. When he rolled and worked her rock-hard nipples between his fingers, Almaeira's voice cracked and rose with longing.

Her slender waist danced and writhed lewdly, jerking upward. Time and again her hips swayed in circles, her rear bobbing in small motions. Her bottom lifted just barely, to the point where it was hard to tell if it had even left Yoal's body, then landed again with a soft, springy bounce. Her small, soft rear bounced over and over, and each time her cervix pressed flush against his glans.

Repeating that secret tryst at her deepest point, Almaeira piled up a pleasure fit to burst within her belly.

"Mm… Want to cum just like this?"

"… Fah, yes… I'm cumming, I'm going to cum… cumming, cumming cumming cumming…"

Almaeira climbed toward her peak, showing off hip-work that would put a succubus to shame. With long strokes that dragged her pussy flesh along his rod, she gave in and came, savoring the feel of his rigid shaft.

"Cum… ming, nnh…"

Bikun—biku, biku, biku.

Dropping her hips flat against Yoal's lower belly, spasming within her honeypot, Almaeira sank in rapture into the bliss of ecstasy. Eyes squeezed shut, she arched her small body back, her whole frame tingling sweetly with each twitch. Her lewdly dancing hips came to a dead stop, and she lost herself in the euphoria and pleasure welling up from deep in her belly.

"… Ha… ah… haah… haah, haah, haah…"

Exhaling hot breaths that laid bare the afterglow of her climax, she let her body go limp.

The stiff shaft lodged inside her remained rock-hard still. Piercing her honeypot like a core, it gave her a pleasant thrill even in the immediate wake of her climax. Being packed so completely full was unbearable, and her vaginal folds all clung and suckled at him greedily.

"That was some incredible movement."

"… Because… you're this hard… of course I'd want to savor it to the fullest…"

"What'll it be? Want to keep at it until you've wrung mine out of me?"

"Ah… mn… geez, don't make fun of me…"

Face flushed in rapture, Almaeira looked down at him and smiled—then abruptly blinked her blue eyes.

A cloying ache welled up from deep in her belly. The temptation of carnal desire that surged in after climax, she now felt many times more strongly than usual.

Bewildered, she twisted her hips in longing, her breath growing ragged—and as Yoal's fingertips rolled and kneaded her nipples, the ache only grew fiercer still.

"… Ah, fu… ahhn… no, Yoal… nn, mn…"

Letting out a sweet breath at the ticklish yet unmistakable pleasure, she once again pressed her cervix snugly against his urethral tip.

In that instant, Almaeira understood—the clear reason why the depths of her belly ached this badly.

It was nothing complicated.

Time and again, Yoal's powerful hips had thrust up into her, driving her to sweet, sublime climax. Her body had learned that unbearable pleasure, had it ground into her so she'd never forget. And because of that, riding on top now left her with a faint sense that something was missing.

To be churned to the depths of her passage by Yoal's brawny hips, her cervix crushed under his weight. Without tasting that viciously sweet carnal delight—Almaeira could no longer be satisfied.

"… Yo-al…"

Still straddling him, she slumped down against him as if collapsing, and whispered in a cloying voice.

"What is it, Alma?"

"… I… I don't think I can do it on my own anymore… Unless you squeeze me down and crush me… unless you do me hard, pounding into me, I can't properly cum…"

Obscene in the extreme though the confession was, Almaeira herself was utterly earnest. Honestly baring the maddening ache within her, she knit her brows in longing as she pleaded.

Yoal gently stroked her hair, brushed the bangs from her sweat-soaked forehead, and pressed a small kiss there.

"Alright. Then shall I be a little rougher?"

"… It-it doesn't have to be just a little… be rough with me, please… the depths of my belly are already… clenching and clenching… it aches so much… pleas—"

Before Almaeira could finish, Yoal easily rolled her over.

In the blink of an eye he pinned her small body beneath him and bore down on top of her. The shaft that filled her tiny female hole to the brim stayed buried, and with his full weight he crushed her cervix flat with a wet plunge.

"… Ah, ahh… ahh, nn… this… this is it… ahhh… my belly's melt… ah, ah, going numb…"

Though he hadn't even begun to move, Almaeira's whole body twitched and convulsed. Rippling her soft pussy flesh, she wound it around his shaft, savoring the rigid hardness of his raging erection.

Her toes curling up tight. Her slender hips squirming and writhing. An indecent expression melted with carnal delight. Her lustrous white skin flushing red in a rush of heat. With every sign pointing to climax, Almaeira gazed up at Yoal in rapture.

And then her shoulders jolted—for at the end of her gaze was Yoal, his bestial lust seething violently.

"How masterfully do you have to seduce me before you're satisfied, damn it…! I really am going to be rough now, Alma…!!"

"… Fah, eh…? … That's not what I… meant—ahhhn…! ah…! ahhn…! hiin…! hii…! w-wait, wait, wait… p-pleeeaaase…"

Shaking off Almaeira's protests, Yoal began to work his hips fiercely. Spreading her legs wider than necessary, he drove his hips in, slamming them against her again and again with forceful smacks. His stiff shaft stood harder and thicker than ever before, like a heated iron spear.

From her churned-open entrance, love-juices splashed and squelched incessantly. The cloudy-white nectar clung thickly to his rod, easing the slide inside her. Though his thick member pistoned in and out of her fiercely with sloppy wet sounds, her innocent folds still swallowed his glans down snugly, wrapping around it softly.

"Ahii…! nn…! nn…! ahhn…! Cu…! cumming, I-I'm cumming, I'm gonna cum… I'm melting… my belly's melting… nooo, no, cumming, I'm already cumming…!"

"Good, cum…!! I'm about to, any second now…!!"

Even as Almaeira sobbed and writhed in pleasure, Yoal's pistoning didn't stop for an instant. The upward curve of his rod scraped and gouged at the roof of her passage, crushing her cervix deep.

Almaeira's small rear tilted up, rising to welcome the man's member in. Lewd nectar spilled abundantly from where they joined, drenching her crotch.

In contrast to the sweet cries she raised, each time her cervix was assaulted she went limp. Sweet euphoria welled up from deep in her belly, and the strength naturally drained from her. A sweet numbness raced through her whole body, and her mind was painted blank white with womb-pleasure.

Struck by a climax that surged like a tsunami, driven up from between her thighs to the crown of her head, Almaeira clung to the man for dear life, her whole body going rigid.

"… I-I'm, cumming, cumming, cumming cumming cumming cumming… I'm cumming, I'm going to cum, I'm gonna—ah, cumming, cumming… cummiiiiing～～～～…!!!"

Bikun, biku, biku biku biku—bikun.

Almaeira's tiny frame convulsed tremendously as she clamped down on her honeypot, drowning in the sweet bliss of climax. A vaginal climax from having her insides churned about, a womb-climax from having her cervix mashed and mauled. Shuddering at a carnal delight in which both surged in on her at once, she went mad with pleasure, tears spilling from her eyes. Her pussy flesh, melted with euphoria, rippled in time with the sweet numbness, winding around his raging shaft.

Having been teased with a half-finished climax before, the orgasm she now devoured while feeling the man's weight was deep enough to sink into completely. The fierce ache within her womb dissolved sweetly, and her slender limbs clung tight to Yoal. Her white skin quivered in tiny tremors, and her walls clenched around the base of his member as if hugging it to her.

"I… I'm cumming… ahn… ahhn… c-cumming, cumming… cummiiing…"

"Me too… it's coming, it's coming… gh, guh…!!!"

—Byugun, byururu, byubu!! Byururu, byubupyu, bubyu!!

Into Almaeira's womb, still trembling with sweet afterglow, Yoal poured his seed in a heavy flood. Pressing his glans flush against her deepest point without a gap, he unleashed his semen mercilessly.

Her soft, squishy cervix twitched, drinking down every last drop of the sperm poured into her. It even latched onto his urethral tip to slurp up the remaining fluid, savoring the heat of his thick semen to the fullest.

"… Nn… ahhn… hii… it's hot… so hot, hii… mnn…"

"… Gh, ohh… ohh…!!"

Dokun, dokudoku, dopun.

His shaft, kneaded by her soft flesh, was milked of even its last dregs, and Yoal groaned low with pleasure.

Almaeira, too, had her belly filled deep with a generous load of sperm, and her lower abdomen twitched as if in delight—her cervix suckling at his urethral tip with wet little sucks. It was as though she were consoling his engorged member after its ejaculation.

With a pleasant elasticity and ripple she entertained his swollen flesh, offering it the sweet afterglow that follows ejaculation. As the cloudy residue stuck to his glans was washed away inside her honeypot, Yoal couldn't help but exhale a hot breath.

"… Ah, ahh… I knew it, I… I'm already…"

Almaeira, too, let out an entranced, rapturous breath. Their breaths overlapped, and before long their lips met and nuzzled together with wet smacks.

The fierce yet sweet ache deep in her belly was gone now. That womb-climax just before had let her taste a pleasure beyond herself, splendidly clearing away the throb of her carnal desire.

And whether she liked it or not, she couldn't help but understand—that without Yoal's powerful hips, she could no longer even reach a satisfying pleasure.

   

Rubbing their lips together, entwining their tongues, exchanging saliva in abundance, they parted their mouths.

After sharing a dense kiss that stretched on for over ten minutes, Yoal slowly raised his upper body.

Then, letting his gaze fall, he noticed it—a faint light surfacing on Almaeira's lower belly.

"This is—"

"… Ah…"

Almaeira, still lost in a daze of pleasure, noticed it too.

There was no need to confirm who had cast it. The white light, gentle as sunshine, told them it was Almaeira herself.

At a glance, it resembled a set of scales.

The sacred seal of the scales that govern order. Once the mark of a body offered up to God—in other words, proof of her chastity.

It had likely surfaced in reaction to Yoal's mana. Having had massive loads of sperm poured into her countless times, it would have been stranger for it not to appear.

"… How nostalgic… The spell that once protected me… The "Blessing Seal of the Scales"…"

"Though it's in quite a state now."

"… It doesn't need to work against you, Yoal…"

Almaeira whispered in a fawning voice and giggled mischievously.

Yoal's face broke naturally into a smile, and he kissed her again with a soft peck—slickly twining his tongue with hers, their tongue-tips sliding against each other with wet, sticky sounds.

A gob of saliva passing back and forth over each other's tongues. Blending their spit together in generous amounts, the two lost themselves in a lewd kiss.

His shaft still stood proud, filling her lewd hole to the brim. Joined below as if reluctant to part, they rubbed their reproductive membranes together.

As they both enjoyed the intimate meeting of their bodies, Almaeira traced her lower belly in rapture and said:

"… Hey, Yoal… how about it… right here, on me…?"

"—That is, um, you mean that?"

"… You carved one into Sharo too, didn't you…?"

Almaeira puffed out her cheeks, looking a little dissatisfied.

In other words, a Lewd Crest. The mark of violation, of conquest, and of dominion. She was asking him to carve one into her.

The essence of a curse crest was not so different from a blessing seal. In short, only the orientation differed. If the other party permitted it, it wasn't especially difficult—all the less so with a partner joined to him in both body and heart.

"Are you sure?"

"… I want it… I want, one too… proof that I'm Yoal's woman…"

At Almaeira's coaxing gaze, Yoal felt his mind reel as if his brain were being rattled.

To carve a Lewd Crest with his own hand into the person he loved above all, the person he treasured above all.

It was so immoral, so unforgivable, that merely imagining it stirred an excitement fierce enough to send a shiver down his spine.

"… You're really sure. Say what you will, I'm the kind of man who can treat people like objects."

In that respect, he differed decisively from the Yoal of old.

But Almaeira nodded far too readily.

"… The surprisingly faint-hearted side of you is exactly what makes you Yoal, I think…"

"Hey."

"… Mm, hehe… come now, you may do as you please with me, you know…?"

Yoal exhaled a hot breath and gazed at Almaeira in torment.

He agonized over it, but in the end he was no match for the desire within him.

Either way, if he wanted to, he could undo it anytime—once he'd resigned himself to that, his resolve was set.

"Alright. Then, first I'll undo the blessing seal."

"… You can leave it as it is, can't you…?"

"Wait. If I do that, it'll tangle together with the blessing seal—"

"… That's, exactly what I want…"

Almaeira smiled and bared her white belly defenselessly.

In that instant, Yoal couldn't suppress a shudder—layering curse crests was fundamentally forbidden. A simple crest was one thing, but layering a complex one made removal exceedingly difficult.

There was no worry of the effect mutating, but it would trigger an irreversible change, which made it dangerous all the same.

As Yoal hesitated in spite of himself, Almaeira broke into a blossoming smile and said:

"… My blessing seal isn't needed anymore… So it's fine, to layer yours over it and paint it all over completely…"

—Those words were more than enough to scatter away every last one of Yoal's petty hesitations.

"… Alma."

"Ahhn… n-not there, not right now…"

Yoal pushed his hips in deeper. His thick glans crushed her cervix with a wet plunge, sharing a dense kiss at the very deepest part of her body.

Joined as deeply as could possibly be, mingling their pleasure, Yoal set his teeth to his thumb and drew a bead of blood.

He ran his fingertip across her lower belly, tracing out a vivid red linear design.

A curse crest modeled after the female reproductive organ—the blood-red Lewd Crest mingled with the white blessing seal, transforming into an entirely different emblem.

A pink so clear it seemed almost translucent.

Neither a mere Lewd Crest, nor by any means a divine blessing seal.

The sacred seal of a blessed reproductive organ surfaced faintly on Almaeira's lower belly.

"… Ah… ahh… now I'm… now I…"

From that alone she fell into rapture, clamping down tight on her honeypot again and again. Smiling with tears welling in her eyes, she squeezed them shut.

Yoal, too, steeped in an indescribable satisfaction, leaned down over Almaeira.

The two gazed intently at each other—feeling each other's breathing and heartbeat.

"… You're really okay with this?"

"… Yoal, your finger…"

"Hm."

When he offered her his bleeding thumb, Almaeira latched onto it with a wet suck.

With soft chu, chus she sipped at his blood as if savoring it. She licked slickly at the wound and gave his fingertip a light suck.

"That's not something you should be drinking."

"… Mm… then I'll stick to just your sperm…"

Releasing his thumb with a pop, Almaeira murmured under her breath.

"That, I'll have you drink with your belly, then."

"Ahhn… mm, geez… then let me drink your spit… let's kiss, a kiss…"

"… You spoiled little thing, so good at wheedling."

Just like that, he kissed her almost as if seizing her lips. Their tongues entwined thickly. Lapping at each other with just their tongue-tips in wet little laps, then tangling the flesh of their tongues together persistently.

Joined deeply both above and below, they exchanged their fluids lewdly. Each time he thrust his hips up with heavy jolts, Almaeira's body flushed with heat at once and clamped down on his shaft.

As they went on making love no differently than before, the sacred seal alone glowed faintly, as if blessing them both.