Creeping Unnoticed

　Leticia, the queen, sat upon the throne. It was not an especially lavish throne, but it had been crafted in a manner befitting a queen's seat; even without inlaid gemstones, it bore handsome ornamentation. Although the country's population was composed largely of elves, this throne had been built in an age so distant it strained the imagination, and was counted among the kingdom's foremost treasures.

　The walls were inlaid with panels of blue and red glass reminiscent of stained windows, sunlight lending color to their radiance. Though stone walls ought to feel cold, this room had been adjusted to a temperate, comfortable warmth.

　Flanking the long red carpet that stretched out before the enthroned Leticia, more than a dozen men and women stood in attendance.

　An aging knight commander clad in full silver-white plate. A handful of young knights who looked roughly Alfira's age. Aged nobles so gaunt they seemed all skin and bone… … Or rotund and swollen ones.

　Those dozen-odd attendees stood rigidly at attention, not stirring so much as a hair's breadth as they awaited the queen's words. And yet their eyes were not on the queen. They were on Fiana and Alfira, who knelt upon the red carpet with bowed heads.

　By the window a short distance away, several maids stood in waiting. Among them was the pink-haired head maid who had spoken with Tiana in the infirmary that morning.

"Fiana. Alfira. Raise your heads."

　So the knight commander said. Obeying, the two raised their faces.

"Both of you—how do your bodies fare?"

"Queen Leticia. We are sorry for having caused you concern."

　It was the same question that had been asked in the infirmary that morning. When it was put to her in public, Fiana answered. Alfira, without giving voice, kept her gaze on the floor from a step behind Fiana. In truth, her body still felt heavy, and the psychological wound… … the memory of having been violated by a monster, had not faded.

　Even so, without giving voice to her own condition or feelings, Fiana spoke the words the queen wished to hear. Hearing this, Leticia murmured "I see," and the corners of her eyes softened just a touch.

　Was it the burden of one who stood above others that she could not let her expression brighten any more than that? Considering what she would have to say from here on, Leticia very nearly let out a sigh.

"Gridia."

"Yes."

　At the call of his name, the knight commander stepped forward. He bowed to Leticia and then turned to face Fiana and the others. His full plate gave a dry clatter. The sound echoed through the throne room where, until just now, only Leticia's voice had rung.

　Listening to that dry sound, Fiana fixed her gaze squarely on the knight commander.

"Fiana and Alfira are to accompany the monster-subjugation party that departs from midday today."

"——"

"This is by order of Queen Leticia. Any objections?"

"None."

　One day since her return to the royal castle. No, since they had returned yesterday evening, perhaps only half a day. It was hard not to think that so little rest was unreasonable. Indeed, several of the knights and nobles present were already speaking with their neighbors in low voices. The substance of every conversation was the same: were they departing already, and was Fiana, together with her vassal knight, being deployed again?

　In those voices and gazes lay distrust. Unease at having two who had once failed the mission folded back into the subjugation party. With such eyes turned upon her, Fiana nonetheless gave a nod, letting nothing show on her face or in her voice.

　Monster subjugation. It was what she herself had wished for, and it was a knight's duty to subjugate monsters as swiftly as possible. For the sake of the world. And above all else, she had no small thoughts about That Thing. As a woman, and as a knight.

"Alfira?"

"With pleasure, I shall accept the duty."

　Hearing her reply, the knight commander called Gridia gave a satisfied nod.

"May I ask a question?"

"Permission granted."

　So Leticia answered.

"Thank you… … What is meant by 'accompany'?"

"Fiana. I know well your skill with sword and magic. But you were caught off guard once already, and you have not been allowed enough rest. You and Alfira are to escort the subjugation party, and to offer counsel on the operational plan."

　Counsel on the operational plan. In short, since they had already fought this monster, the idea was to base the plan on Fiana's and the others' input, that they might subjugate it efficiently.

　Even calling the opponent a monster did little to convey its true nature; setting aside the ambush by mimicry, the peculiarity of a creature that wielded magic was difficult to put across in words. A slime was the lowest tier of monster… … and it was that very premise, Leticia and Gridia thought, that bred a high likelihood of carelessness and overconfidence.

"Who is the subjugation party's commander?"

"That would be—"

"Command of the monster subjugation falls to me."

　Cutting off Gridia's words, a knight standing beside him stepped forward. Young—a youth somewhat younger than Alfira. But tall, and with his helmet removed, his face was strikingly handsome.

　Golden hair grown out without care glinted in the light streaming through the stained glass, and his jade-green eyes were narrowed as if in a smile. And, like Fiana, his ears stretched long outward.

　Though he looked to be in his early twenties, in truth he had to be several times that. An elven youth. Fiana recognized his face. He had been a knight of her own generation.

　She knew that his strength lay more in magic than swordplay. So Fiana said nothing further and once again lowered the head she had raised to ask her question.

"Understood."

"I look forward to working with you, Fiana-dono."

"Likewise. Frelia-dono."

　So saying, the youth called Frelia returned to his original position. Ahem—an emaciated noble who looked all skin and bone cleared his throat.

　He looked as though he might collapse at any moment, so thin he seemed, but his legs supported his body with unexpected steadiness. With a clearing of his throat he stepped forward, gave Leticia an exaggeratedly grand bow, and then in an equally grand manner raised his voice. It was a voice pitched higher than one could ever have imagined coming from that scrawny frame.

"Now then, Fiana-dono. They say you saw the monster—is this truly so?"

"Guin-kyou. Are those words not impugning the queen, who decided upon this subjugation?"

　It was the knight commander Gridia who answered in Fiana's place… … or rather, leveled aggressive words at the noble. As the aging knight commander turned a sharp gaze on him, the wisp-thin noble brushed off the look as though it were a breeze and looked at Fiana.

　Once more, Fiana raised her face.

"It is the truth."

"Indeed. Of course… … it is not that I doubt you, but the lives of knights do not come cheap. I would only ask that you take this to heart."

"Yes."

　He put weight on the words "of course," then murmured the main point—the lives of knights—in an innocuous tone.

　Those words pointed to the knights who had lost their lives in the previous failure. Fiana understood that. It had been a surprise attack. She had not anticipated it. Such excuses she did not believe she could offer to the families of the slain knights, and even if she did, she understood they would not be accepted.

　Above all, a life could not be measured in money. A life was a life. Singular, and irreplaceable.

　Her body had been sullied. Comrades had been stolen from her. Tangled in such confused emotions, Fiana nodded once again. Looking down at her, the thin noble closed his mouth. That, it seemed, was all he had wished to say.

　In his place, a rotund noble now stepped forward. It was Druid.

　He looked down at Fiana with eyes feigning boldness, utterly different from the look he had given the maid yesterday. No doubt that was because several of his fellow nobles surrounded him.

"Fiana-dono. Will you be able to defeat the monster this time?"

　His potbelly shook with each step. The lavish ring set on his thick finger caught the sunlight and glittered. Looking up at this Druid from her kneeling posture, Fiana lowered her face once more.

"I will win."

"Mustering and moving knights—it alone demands an enormous sum. And were we to suffer a wipeout as before, just how much would have to be paid out to the bereaved families… …"

"Druid-kyou."

　The knight Frelia called his name, but Druid only glanced his way and looked away again. The handsome knight who was the very opposite of his own homely appearance—Druid loathed him from the bottom of his heart.

　He knew he was ugly. And not only in appearance, but inwardly as well. Watching Fiana kneel before so many knights and nobles after a failed subjugation like this, he could feel the wicked desires within him kindle and grow like a flame. Normally she would be a person to whom he could not speak without reading her every mood, yet now, no matter how forcefully he addressed her, she could not throw it back at him.

　It remained an unalterable part of his nature to speak with a certain timidity even then, but Druid still ignored Frelia's restraining voice and looked at Fiana.

　In this place, at this moment, he could speak to Fiana as an equal. No—he could direct strong words at the failed Fiana.

　It was an emotion that could be read as sadism. Words that wounded the beautiful, the noble. Such words moistened and filled the heart in his breast. What it was that filled him, even Druid did not know. A strong feeling that pushed aside the very cowardice that had been the reason he sat in the position he held.

　Driven by that feeling, Druid opened his mouth.

　Fiana did not retort. That beautiful and gentle saintly woman, beloved of all, listened in silence to his words… … words sharp enough to deeply wound those who heard them.

　That alone made blood gather in the penis hidden beneath his thick trousers; he felt an exhilaration and excitement strange and unfamiliar, and his shoulders rose and fell. Merely spinning words from his mouth was enough to leave his breath ragged.

"Running a knight order, moving it—all of it requires funds. And those funds do not spring forth like water from a wellspring; they are the crystallization of the people's blood and tears, Fiana-dono."

"… … Yes."

　That Fiana—that dignified elven knight, the very picture of a white saint—was answering Druid in a powerless voice. That alone sent a tingle of unnatural excitement racing up his spine.

　He felt wicked emotions that surely no one could imagine and no one would condone. Striving not to let those emotions show on his face, he drew a handkerchief from his pocket and mopped his brow.

　The handkerchief came away damp. That was how much he had sweated.

　Even he found it revolting. He knew that women whispered behind his back about his appearance. And here was Fiana, lying prostrate before the words of such a hideous Druid.

　Her face cast down in helplessness. Her ears and cheeks limned by beautiful silver hair. The faint sliver of her nape, just visible. White skin. A woman exposing her defenseless figure so close he could almost catch her scent.

　Gazing at Fiana in her dress—tailored as the minimum decorum required to come before the queen—Druid cleared his throat once. Silver-white hair, white skin. And a pure white dress.

　The dress left her shoulders bare and was cut deeply across the chest. The twin hills, unsuited to Fiana's petite stature, formed a deep valley at her décolletage; one strong movement and the secret summits of her breasts would surely peek free.

　That she was wearing nothing beneath was plain at a glance. As a man who liked to play tricks on the maidservants in his own household, he was keenly attuned to such slight shifts in dress. Gufu, came a wet sound from him, hardly to be called a throat-clearing, and he broke off his words. His eyes were turned at an angle—just enough to seem to be looking at Fiana's downcast face, but in truth fixed on the deep valley her chest made.

"Druid-kyou. Before the queen, any further words… …"

　The one who stopped him was the very same emaciated noble who had earlier admonished Fiana. Standing beside Druid, he gave a light tug on his left sleeve.

　At last, as though coming back to himself, Druid raised his eyes slightly to look at Fiana's downcast face.

"My apologies. Before the queen, I have polluted your ears."

"No, Druid-kyou. What you have said is also correct. There is no need to abase yourself so."

"Your magnanimous words. I thank you."

　With a bow, Druid returned to his earlier place. His shoulders rose and fell as though he had just finished some exertion, and his brow gleamed with even more sweat than before. He mopped it again with his handkerchief, and the cloth came away damper still.

　Every knight in the chamber turned hard gazes on Druid.

　Perhaps what Druid had said was correct. Running a knight order. Moving knights. That truly required funds. Unlike mere adventurers, their equipment too was of a quality to match, and that could not be helped.

　Even so, they were furious that such words—belittling a fellow knight, Fiana, before the queen herself—had been spoken.

　Bathed in such gazes, Druid—unlike a moment ago—averted his eyes.

　He was small-hearted through and through. His tongue ran fast only in those moments. Once those moments passed, his usual timid face would always peek out again. A man whose spirit pushed him to do things beyond his measure and then regret them. Even now, the wicked impulse that had crested moments ago had vanished, and he stepped back as though to bury himself among the other nobles. But his enormous bulk made it impossible for him not to stand out.

　Druid and the other nobles did not disbelieve Fiana's words or Leticia's orders.

　However, the [Demon King] had been defeated a considerable time ago, and the damage from monsters had visibly dwindled. These days, it was rarer to see a monster than not.

　In such an age, telling them monsters had appeared, it was only natural that they could not muster a sense of crisis. If anything, the present state of affairs was that bandits, mountain brigands, and human villains caused more harm than monsters did.

　Rather than maintain a knight order, it was more realistic—and easier on the treasury—to reduce their numbers and invest in adventurers, who moved freely, numbered more, and above all cost less.

　Even now, a knight remained an aspirational profession for the common folk, but to the nobles who oversaw the kingdom's finances, they were money-eating insects. The full plate Gridia wore alone—how many adventurers might be hired for its cost? How many starving citizens might be saved?

　The same was true of nobles, who put thought into their bearing, wore lavish clothes, and bedecked themselves in costly adornments; the gap between those who served at the castle and those who lived in the castle town was severe. It was one of the matters that had been giving Leticia headaches.

　The knight order, led by Gridia and Frelia and others, who held monster subjugation to be a knight's calling. The nobles who oversaw Fonteau's finances. And the residents of the castle town, caught between knight and noble. Because she understood the feelings of both sides, Leticia watched in silence.

　Monsters did exist. Fiana and Alfira had been attacked and violated. That information was at once proof of the monster's existence and a fact that wounded the two of them.

　As a fellow woman, Leticia could not bring herself to speak that absolute proof out loud.

　But if they ventured to the abandoned mine in question, they would have no choice but to come face to face with the monster. Since that much was certain, Leticia would not rescind the order. The rest was for her trustworthy knights to carry the duty through. With that alone, one of her problems would be settled.

　She had spoken sternly to the knight order. That much was clear from the formation she had chosen: with Vice-Commander Frelia in command, and Fiana as adviser. Gridia, no doubt, had meant to give Frelia—widely whispered to be the next commander—an opportunity to earn distinction, and to give the failed Fiana a chance to wash away her disgrace.

　If even this should fail, he thought, then perhaps next time he should move himself. Then again, the opponent was a mere slime. Absent a surprise attack, Fiana alone would be more than enough.

　The weakest of monsters. There was, certainly, the drawback that physical attacks did not work, but barring a fight inside the closed space of the abandoned mine, there was no factor by which they could lose.

　There had been talk of it using magic, but even so, in Leticia's mind it was not yet an opponent worthy of being called a threat. A monster using magic.

　A slime that used magic was unusual, true, but monsters that used magic certainly did exist. Since they knew it could use magic, they might be surprised, but they need not fear being caught off guard.

　Burn it with fire. Freeze it. Sear it with the heat of lightning.

　Slimes were troublesome, but in truth, they were monsters with many weaknesses. As long as Frelia and Fiana did not let down their guard, Leticia thought, there would be no problem.

　Recently there had been no major battles, and the knight order had been feeling marginalized.

　Peace was a good thing. A splendid thing. But monsters had not entirely vanished from this world. They merely no longer multiplied; they still remained.

　A peace that forgot that fact could collapse at any moment, from any direction.

　Standing against threats was a knight's duty. The knight order existed for that purpose. They became shields against threats and protected people and kingdom.

　These days, those who would become knights were dwindling. And she knew that certain nobles were the ones leading that trend.

　But even knowing that, she could not help but recognize that the nobles' arguments also held truth.

　It was the people who formed the kingdom's foundation. Their livelihood was built upon the people's blood-tax, and the knight order drew its salaries from that blood-tax.

　In a world without battles, knights were unneeded. She understood that such a current, too, was unavoidable.

　And so, if this could be an opportunity to remind everyone of the threat of monsters once again, then perhaps knights and nobles might be able to clasp hands. It might be a naive thought, but Leticia could not help but think it.

"Fiana, Frelia, Alfira."

　Amid the faintly tense air, Leticia opened her mouth. The surroundings fell silent at that alone, a hushed quiet flowing through the throne room.

　The three whose names had been called looked at Leticia.

"Monsters are an enemy that must be defeated. Beings that cannot coexist with us elves, with humans, with beastfolk."

"Yes."

"Exactly as you say."

"Yes."

　Therefore, after a single beat of pause.

"I command the three of you to subjugate the monsters… … Wipe the monsters from this world."

　Those were the queen's words. To all present, absolute words.

　Monster subjugation. Wipe out the monsters.

　To that command, every one of them nodded.

＊

　The world wavered, soft and unsteady.

　Tiana, lying face-down on her bed, gazed with hollow eyes at the pillow she held against her chest.

　A familiar pillow. The one she used every night, her dear favorite. It seemed she had been using it ever since she had begun serving in this royal castle. White, and when hung out to dry on a sunny day it carried the sweet scent of sunlight. But now an unsettling black slime entered the edge of her sight. Defiling her white pillow. A slime—the Black Ooze.

　Yet even recognizing that figure, the fog of her hollow consciousness did not lift.

　Vaguely, all she could do was feel the slime's tentacles defiling her skin. Far from resisting, she could not move so much as a fingertip. Somewhere in her head, something was sounding an alarm. Screaming that this mucus was dangerous. But her body would not move. Across her back, where only the shoulder straps of her finely embroidered underwear sat, the unsettling mucus began to spread.

　A shudder, and gooseflesh rose. The mucus that had spread across her back continued onward, defiling her sides, her flanks, her supple white skin. It was viscous mucus. The fluid that dripped from her back drew threads down to the white sheets, spreading a gray stain.

"… … Mm… …"

　Her shoulder trembled faintly. The look of it was unpleasant, of course, but the lukewarm sensation was also revolting. White skin, clad in nothing more than black underwear and matching stockings, was being defiled by mucus.

　When her entire back was covered, her breasts came next.

　From her sides to her chest. Still face-down, the slime exploited its viscous nature to slip inside her underwear.

　It was disgusting. Thinking so, Tiana shifted as if to refuse the mucus. But the very movement raised her chest, which had been pressed against the bed, just enough to make it easier for the slime to invade.

　As if she were welcoming the slime in herself, she arched her upper body off the bed; the mucus that had crept inside her underwear lifted her breasts as though with a will of its own and kneaded them.

　Bold movements. Gathering the fat upward as it lifted, her breasts bounced inside the mucus. The chest that had been hidden beneath her maid uniform last night was now clad in nothing but a single layer of underwear, and what was being done to her was laid bare for all to see. Once the motion began, her body, remembering the pleasure, reacted at once.

"Ah… … mmh."

　Her shapely legs moved restlessly, and her toes gripped the sheets. As the movement gradually grew fiercer, the motion of her legs became obvious to anyone watching. She disturbed the sheets, moving her legs as if to flee, but no strength returned to her body.

　Her rear, clothed only in string-thin panties and black stockings, untouched as yet, swayed left and right; her breath grew hot and ragged. That she instinctively buried her mouth in her pillow was perhaps because, even through her hazy thought, she was ashamed to let a moan escape under the caresses of a loathsome monster.

　Dangerous. She knew it, yet her body, anticipating the pleasure to come, swelled of its own accord with heat. Deep in her hips, deep behind her supple, trained abdominals, deep in her vaginal canal. She could feel the organ meant for bearing a child kindling with heat. As though fevered, her hips danced obscenely left and right, and she began to grind her crotch against the sheets in a back-and-forth motion.

　Only a slight movement. That was why she could find no real sexual pleasure in it, and her hips moved more and more impatiently.

"… … Mm, ah… …"

　The heat of the breath leaking from her open mouth rose, too. Love juices, more than her near-nonexistent panties could absorb, formed a stain on the sheets like a bedwetting accident.

　A small stain. But it was not the Black Ooze's black mucus—it was transparent. The slime born from Alfira did not give off the same rotten stench as the Black Ooze that lived in the abandoned mine, and so the lewd scent that filled the room was only the scent Tiana herself gave off.

　Breath, sweat, love juices. Those scents mingled and filled Tiana's room.

　Precisely because she had covered her mouth with the pillow to muffle her moans, she breathed those scents deep through her nose, felt them on her skin, and her sexual pleasure mounted.

　A faint rustle. The whisper of cloth. The sheets becoming disordered. Tiana's legs, undoing them. The sheets she had smoothed herself were now disordered as never before, fouled as though she had been roughed up.

　The rustling did not stop. At some point, not only her legs but her hands too were gripping the sheets fiercely. Her right hand held the pillow; her left hand gripped the sheets as if to endure something.

"Ku, uuh… …!"

　As if enduring torture, she gripped the sheets fiercely with the fingers of her hands and feet, fouling them. But what she was being given was not pain. Proof of it lay in her skin, once white as porcelain, which had taken on a faint pink hue, and in the sweat that beaded on the upper arms and thighs not yet wrapped in mucus, catching the sunlight pouring through the window. Proof of good circulation.

　A pleasure not exactly strong, like being given a full-body massage. But neither was it weak.

　Her whole body kneaded, her sweat flowing, her breath leaking. The stimulus was not so very strong, and yet she could not help being aware. The greatest problem of all was her anus. The mucus tentacle thrust into it, like a stake.

　That place, dilated wide enough to admit a thumb, had now been widened—developed—enough that two fingers would slip in with ease. The sphincter was stretched painfully, and the mucus tentacle, though black-clouded, laid the interior of her intestines bare to the light. The intestines, which should have been a beautiful pink, contracted and stretched in time with the mucus tentacle's piston motion through her anus, oozing not love juices but intestinal fluid.

　Drinking up that liquid, the tentacle stimulated her anus to savor a finer meal yet.

　Beneath her black stockings, gucha, gucha, came viscous sounds. In a room with no human present besides Tiana, the sound rang clear.

"N—no… … not that, no… …"

　Feelings of anguish bled into her voice.

　While Leticia and the others had been speaking in the throne room, the mucus tentacle had been growing thicker, little by little. And feeling that the sphincter had grown used to the tentacle's current thickness, the Black Ooze made it just a little thicker again.

　The sphincter was stretched to its limit, and her intestines became even more on display than before. It was not that something thicker had been thrust into her. The thing that had been thrust in had grown thicker.

　To endure that pressure she opened her mouth and breathed out slowly, firmly. The breath she expelled felt to Tiana like the hottest of her life. As she breathed hot breath against the pillow, she stuck out her tongue. Feeling the rough texture of the pillow, she fouled it with the drool that spilled from her mouth.

　Just as her upper body was, so too was her lower body in a dire state. Her anus, its folds stretched to their limit, swallowed the thick tentacle and clenched as if to tear the foreign object apart. But the strength of a sphincter could never sever a slime's mucus tentacle; it only served to teach Tiana the tentacle's shape all the more vividly.

　Her anus clenched the tentacle tightly; the tentacle, to resist that clenching, thrust forcefully back and forth.

"Hug, h… … hu, huh—!"

　A muffled voice leaked from beneath the pillow. Tears welled in her eyes and ran down her cheeks to make new stains on the pillow. Strength gathered in the right hand gripping the pillow. Her left hand looked nearly ready to tear the sheets apart.

　In her fog-shrouded head, Tiana was forced to know its shape whether she wished it or not. Perhaps because it was a mucus tentacle. Its shape was not constant. Its surface bore undulating ridges and grooves, and it was long, bending inside her intestines like a whip.

　A motion impossible for a human… … no, for the penis of any normal creature. A tentacle no thicker than an adult man's thumb thrust violently back and forth into the depths of her intestines, and from there added an up-and-down motion. Moreover, the tentacle's undulations—from its constant invasion and withdrawal—worked her sphincter without rest, and from the gaps that occasionally opened in those undulations came pusu, pusu sounds of escaping gas. That gas, too, became bubbles through the mucus and fouled the area around her anus.

　Crying as her dignity was defiled—not only as a woman but as a human being—in this hollow state of thought, Tiana shed tears.

　As she grew used to the pressure her anus's grip weakened, and as it did, the slime's mucus grew slightly thicker. Then the sphincter's grip strengthened again, and the cycle repeated. The tentacle, which earlier had been only as thick as a grown man's thumb, was now another size thicker still.

　So that Tiana would not feel pain, it grew thicker little by little, slowly.

"Ah, aah… … hah, aah… …!"

　The breath that leaked from her mouth, too, as she grew used to the tentacle's thickness, began to come out long and deep as she steadied her breathing.

　The tentacle was slowly drawn out. At this act of excretion not of her own will, the depths of her rear ached. The sensation of release, of relief, eroded Tiana's reason. Even in her hollow thought, what she had felt was dangerous was, little by little, mistaken for something pleasurable.

　The clenched sphincter was pulled along by its motion, and her anus rose up like a volcano. A dull, deep skin-toned ring. On Tiana, whose whole body was white skin, that place alone was a different color. Not sunburn—a place where pigment had settled.

　When the tentacle was withdrawn, her black stockings bulged, and it looked almost as if she had soiled herself with her clothes still on. As that movement pulled at her panties, the cloth covering her crotch moved back and forth in unison.

　Her labia, made damp by anal torment, were stimulated as though sanded down by the cloth of her black panties, and her lower body trembled in small spasms. The moans leaking from her mouth grew fiercer, and the right hand gripping the pillow lost its strength.

"No, don't—no, sto… … p"

　Refusing. Rejecting. Her lightless eyes opened wide, refusing the tentacle.

　But those two feet. Their toes were not flailing in resistance but gripping the sheets fiercely, bracing for the pleasure to come. Thoughts that refused, body that braced. That dissonance tormented Tiana's instincts.

　When the tentacle was drawn out just a little, a pleasure like that of relieving herself seared Tiana's brain.

　Her moans grew louder, and the tremors of her body grew to match. As she gripped the sheets as if she might tear them, beads of sweat broke out all over her body.

　She pressed her head fiercely into the pillow and unconsciously ground her teeth. Perhaps because the roots of her teeth would not meet, they chattered katchi, katchi.

　Tears welled in her eyes and fell from their corners. The hot breath she had been spilling, hah hah, turned into a fuu, fuu sound of enduring something—and one could tell that Tiana, in her dim consciousness, was enduring the pleasure from her anus.

　The hole for excretion. A hole not used in this way by human common sense. Even when a large quantity of sedative had been poured into her intestines, she still refused to feel pleasure from such a hole.

　It was Tiana's final resistance, as it were—her last stand as a maid who should be chaste… … to bear up so that she would not cross a line that must not be crossed.

　As if mocking that resistance, the slime, which felt no sentiment at all, manipulated its mucus tentacle. The tentacle slid into her intestines once more. The anus that had risen up like a volcano now sank inward.

　A beautiful stain spread across the sheets. Love juices had spilled from her crotch.

　Stimulating her womb from the side of the anus, the slime that had taken her womb for its lodging matched the motion and licked over the inside of her womb.

　Inside and outside. Inside her womb, and inside her intestinal wall. Tiana knew no way to endure stimulation from both—an impossibility. With her eyes rolling in their sockets, all she could do was bite her teeth together desperately and strain her whole body.

　In Tiana's life, in her experiences of intercourse, she had always endured her climaxes by stiffening her whole body. That was her only experience. But to do so was only to feel the tentacle gouging her anus all the more strongly, and to writhe in agony at the sensation of her womb being licked.

"Uu, ah… … ah—uah!"

　This time, the sensation of a foreign object entering her excretion hole. She opened her eyes wide, stuck out her tongue, and let drool drip from the corner of her lips. What she felt was not only pressure.

　The sensation of a foreign object entering a hole never used for such a purpose gave Tiana not only pressure but pain. Yet it was not the pain of a wound, like a blade's cut.

　Her stomach hurt. The pain one feels when one has eaten too much, or cannot let out what must be let out, or tries to endure beyond one's limit.

(T, toilet… … toilet… … I want to let it out—)

　Only that word floated in her head. She wanted to go to the toilet. She wanted to let it out. To let it out and be at ease.

　Unconsciously, Tiana put strength into her whole body and drew a breath as though bearing down. She tightened her abdomen, trying to expel the foreign object.

"Fuu… … huff, fuu!"

　She tightened her stomach. But far from driving out the mucus tentacle, her anus—without even the slightest gap—would not even let gas escape. The more she bore down, the more strongly she felt the foreign object in her intestines and clenched. Her intestines repeated their peristalsis, and that very action stimulated her against the tentacle's ridges.

(My, butt—my butt, weird… … weird, weird)

　She wanted to let it out. Only that thought grew stronger, larger. Only that floated in her dim thought, and yet the more she bore down, the more she cornered herself.

　That repetition. The pathologically strong spasm of her hips from a need to excrete that had crossed every limit; as though her desperate wish had been heard, the tentacle was, just slightly, expelled from her anus.

"Fuwa—ah, aaah!"

　At the sensation of release, Tiana's once-icy face slackened wretchedly. The corners of her eyes drooped, tears spilling, and her nostrils flared wide.

　It feels good. The cold mask of a maid vanished, and only that emotion remained on her face.

　—Bubi.

　At the same time, the gas that had been pent up in her intestines was expelled, becoming a mucus-coated sound that reached Tiana's ears.

(A, little… … more)

　She put forth strength. Gas escaped. She put forth strength. Gas escaped—that repetition.

　The slightly expelled tentacle pushed in and out repeatedly, as if to fan Tiana's resistance. To begin with, between the force of her attempt to excrete and the tentacle itself, the gulf was vast. There was no contest at all.

　This was not even play for the tentacle—only an act performed so that Tiana would feel pleasure.

　How might it produce stronger pleasure from here on? The slime thought only of that as it acted. No—it did not even think. It was instinct. Nothing more than the instinct to impregnate a female.

　Knowing nothing of any of that, Tiana continued desperately to bear down in an attempt to expel the slime from her intestines.

　The pleasure of excretion. The pain of invasion.

　That repetition.

"Uuh—haa… … aah… … aah… …"

　After some time of that, the tentacle slipped, even if only slightly, out of her intestines again. To Tiana, even that slight release was an exquisite pleasure. Strength fled from her limbs, and she drew ragged breath after ragged breath.

　Her hips spasmed as though she had reached climax, and the stain her love juices made on the sheets grew larger, wider still.

　The tightness in her belly eased, and her cheeks visibly slackened at the pleasure of excretion.

　Had anyone been watching, they might have said her face looked happy. Because her usual expression was an iron mask, even the simple slackening of her cheeks was enough for those who knew Tiana well to recognize as a smile.

　But her eyes were clouded, reflecting nothing. Not seeing.

　Though she realized her own situation was abnormal, Tiana could do nothing. Only the will to resist existed; her body would not respond. What she did not realize was that the very will fanned masochistic emotion and stimulated her arousal.

　She had never thought of herself as strong. She knew that carelessness and overconfidence led to death.

　But Tiana had never thought of herself as weak, either. The reality that such a woman could not resist, and was being toyed with at her opponent's pleasure. The more her hollow thought told her she had to do something, the more she was crushed by the reality that nothing could be done.

　To such a masochistic reality, her body responded. Her labia, untouched, opened and closed paku, paku as if seeking something.

　Her panties, mere scraps of cloth, were of no use whatsoever; through panties and stockings both, her crotch betrayed a faint shadow—her pubic hair, visible right through them.

(Some, how… … I have, to do something)

　She murmured it within her breast. Little by little, strength of will returned to Tiana. Truly only little by little. Her body was not yet free, but her thoughts, her voice, were returning.

　The slime had stopped spitting up the mucus containing the same components as the sedative into her intestines.

　But that also meant there was no longer any need to spit it up.

"U, ah—ah!"

　And so, after that slight release, the anal violation resumed. This time the tentacle advanced a little deeper than before. Only a little. But that little was hard for Tiana to bear.

　Her hips trembled greatly, and even with love juices spilling onto sheets already drenched as though waterlogged, she had no means to hold them back. Tiana did not know how to endure such sharp sensations of being raped in the rear. All she could do was strain her whole body to delay the moment of squirting.

　The stains on her stockings grew larger. Unlike the slime's mucus, the sensation of her own clothes wetting was unpleasant.

"Haa… … haa!"

　Pushing in and pulling out, pushing in and pulling out.

　That repetition. Pleasure and pain that seemed never-ending, alternating with one another.

　The hand that had been gripping the sheets fiercely all along was trembling. From enduring so long, her grip had grown weak. That was how long she had been repeating this. Endlessly, the time of being raped in the rear.

"Ah, ah—ah."

　At last, with just a slight withdrawal of the tentacle from her anus, Tiana reached climax. The stain on the sheets grew larger. Her arms and legs went rigid, and tendons stood out on the insides of her thighs. Even through the stockings, the thighs that bore not an ounce of wasted flesh communicated the tension vividly, telling everyone the state Tiana was in.

　She stiffened her whole body, tendons standing out on her thighs, for a while, then convulsed. Like a broken toy she spasmed greatly, not only at the hips but at her shoulders and the tips of her feet; when all strength left her, she sprawled her beautiful legs out and exhaled ragged breaths.

　Pikun, pikun. Her body, divorced from her will, repeated tiny convulsions. Each time, a small puddle formed on the sheets where her crotch had been pressed, and was absorbed into the bed.

　She had climaxed simply from being withdrawn. She had not expelled everything pent up in her belly, in her intestines. Only the ridges of the mucus tentacle had stimulated her anus. And yet her body, having endured and endured, had reached climax on that alone.

　—If, then, she could expel all the mucus that had invaded her intestines… … how strong would that pleasure be?

　Whipping her strengthless body in the wake of climax, she put strength into her belly. Tightened her rear, trying to expel the foreign body in her intestines. But that was the weakest of all the resistances she had mounted. There was no way such a thing could drive out the tentacle; it only made her feel the foreign body in her intestines all the more strongly.

　The slime did not leave. As if to insist that this was its own dwelling, it taught Tiana of its presence and made no move to depart.

　It was not as though they could understand words, or share thoughts. But Tiana shuddered at a vague unease—the thought that the slime in her intestines might never, ever leave of its own accord.

　Feeling that the tentacle had pushed in to a depth that surprised even her, cold sweat broke out on her. Little by little, Tiana's will was returning. By sweating, the drug that had permeated her body was being diluted.

　The amount was minuscule, but Tiana came to recognize her body's gradual capacity to resist. That she could recognize it at all was a measure of how far she had recovered.

(I have, to do something… …)

　What, how should she do it? Her head still did not know. Her body was frantically trying to drive the foreign body from within her, but her body—not yet completely freed from the sedative spat up by the mucus tentacle—would not listen, and with such a body she did not know how to resist. Yet she began to think she had to do something.

　What. What.

　—She simply put strength into her belly as her body bid her. For now, she thought, that was all she could do.

　But the slime, too, was not idle.

"Uh… … ah… … uah."

　Supported by the slime that wrapped her body, she was rolled from face-down onto her back, revealing underwear of dazzling white lace over black cloth—and a child-like flat chest laid bare in the light of day.

　Truly, a chest so small it had no need for the support of underwear. Her waist curved in, both legs bore just enough flesh, and her hips swelled large and upward as though promised an easy birth. For all that Tiana was a mature woman, only her chest was small, modest.

　The adorable breasts wrapped in lavishly decorated adult women's black underwear gave one the impression of a child playing dress-up.

　For reasons other than shame or arousal, color rose in Tiana's cheeks. Anger at her own disgraceful figure, and at the monster that defiled her.

　This time, her upper body simultaneously. As the tentacle invaded her body, seeping through her anus, mucus covered her adorable breasts. The breasts protected by her black underwear were squeezed toward the center, as if to gather their fat, distorting their shape.

"Kuh… …!"

　What she felt was pain. At a stimulation that all but declared her breasts too flat to make a valley without being squeezed painfully, she furrowed her shapely brows and creased the bridge of her nose.

　Then suddenly she was released gently, then kneaded.

"Mm—fuu… … aah."

　Kneaded gently, an illusion of sweet electricity born within her chest made the corners of her mouth slacken easily. Her slightly parted lips revealed white teeth, and behind them even her red tongue showed.

　The anomaly of being raped in the rear. A body that had climaxed from that very rear. Perhaps it was because of that that her body honestly accepted the normal stimulation of her chest, all but tantamount to a caress.

　Tiana's expression quickly melted into a sweet, languid one, and the breath leaking from her lips became hot and honeyed.

"Kuh."

　And then, kneaded again as though to scoop together the surrounding flesh—released.

"Hah, ah… … aah."

　Then her breasts were kneaded gently as though wrapped in palms over their crowns, given soft stimulation.

　Slight pain, and gentle stimulation.

　That repetition had her nipples, hardened by anal torment, swelling large enough to be made out even through her underwear. Hidden by the slime's cloudy black mucus and the black underwear it was hard to tell, but compared to the size of her breasts, her nipples seemed somewhat large.

　Having her breasts kneaded through the fabric of her underwear felt different from being kneaded by mucus alone. Her skin chafed against the cloth and hurt a little, but that too felt good.

　Her nipples were hard and engorged, the surrounding areolae swelling with good circulation. Proving she was completely feeling the pleasure, her nipples pushed up her underwear, forming sharp little peaks through the black cloth wet with mucus.

"Hih, ih… … ih, ah… …"

　The slime had no reason to overlook such places, and pinched her nipples through her underwear. With strengthless limbs she desperately gripped the bedsheets. As she writhed on the bed like a fish out of water, small cries escaped her lips. But they were not screams. They were small sounds of enduring something.

　As though to put the writhing Tiana in check, the tentacle thrust into her anus moved back and forth just once, as if to say "Don't move."

"Hig—u, uuh!"

　Her body arched greatly, and then went slack.

　When all strength left her body, the breast attack resumed. There was no resistance. Tiana, who had reached a light climax from a single thrust, accepted the chest caress with her eyes rolling.

　Her breasts kneaded as the slime pleased, her nipples pressed flat through the underwear, then released. All the while, the mucus inside her anus repeated its peristalsis, stimulating Tiana's urge to excrete.

(I, want to… … let it out)

　Her upper body undulated, and from her thrashing the barrette had slipped off, her gray hair spreading over the bed.

　Her eyes spilled tears, and the once-dignified gaze, with corners drooping, had become the gaze of a female fawning. Her breathing—and even the breaths from her nose—grew ragged, her whole body spasming, in a way no one would have thought Tiana capable of—so very debauched.

　Again and again, her nipples were kneaded. Pinched, pulled, rolled, pressed. Within the mucus her nipples did not retain the same shape for even a second, and the slime repeated it over and over. With each, Tiana's spasms grew slightly larger, her breath fading.

　The sweat that broke out all over her body caught the sunlight pouring through the window, lighting her up.

"Haa, haa… … no, more… …"

　In her eyes, the light of will returned. Her hands were not restrained.

　Now that she thought about it, even in her own room, that she should be lying about in her underwear in the middle of the day was unbelievable. Probably, she thought, from the moment she came to this room she had been driven mad by this mucus.

　Having her chest kneaded, having her anus raped, she turned her thoughts toward how she might do something about this situation… … and even as she turned them over, her body spasmed greatly again.

"No… … stop, it… …"

　At last, by her own will, she was able to speak words of refusal. But at the same time—.

"Uwah!? Ah, kuu—!"

　The tentacle in her anus, too, gradually grew more intense in its movement. This time the anal violation resumed while Tiana's consciousness was clear.

　Tiana, too, let out a strained scream at anal rape felt with her will undimmed. She arched her upper body greatly, exposing her slender throat. Her wide-open eyes were supposedly seeing the familiar ceiling, but it would not register in her consciousness.

　Her eyes flickered in and out, sight and thought out of sync. As her breath grew ragged, drool spilled from her mouth, snot from her nose.

"N, no—n, no, no!"

　Her arched upper body spasmed in that position, and muscles stood out on her trained abdomen.

　Her hips… … no, her anus—she was afraid to let it touch the bed. If she pressed her anus down with her own weight, she would feel the mucus tentacle that was, even now, prying the sphincter open as it stroked. She lifted her hips with the strength of her legs as well as her upper body, but doing so put strain on her anus, and she felt the stroking tentacle more keenly.

"Uah—ahh, aaah!?"

　Unable to endure that sensation for even a second, Tiana let the strength go from both legs.

　Bicha—with a damp sound, her rear dropped onto the soft bed. The whole of her body weight bore down against the foreign body in her intestines, and she let out a scream.

"Uh, gi… … dis—gusting"

　Her hips lifted.

　This time not by her own will. Her spasming hips rose on their own. Divorced from Tiana's will, her hips rose high of their own accord, seeking to feel the tentacle's presence, then slammed her rear forcefully back into the bed.

　Her hips trembled in a pathological dance, stimulating the slime inside her intestines.

"Hih!? No, sto—stop it!"

　She screamed. A hoarse, weak… … but unmistakable scream. The kind of scream a woman might let out hoping that, if anyone heard, they would come to help. But the weak scream could not cross the closed door, and did not reach the hallway beyond.

　The flickering light in her eyes grew more violent. Her head hurt. Between pleasure too strong and the revulsion of being raped in the rear, her mind seemed about to come undone.

"Nhiu!"

　Bikun. Her body leapt high again.

　She looked. The last bastion that had hidden her chest, her black underwear, had been pulled up, and the lovely breasts that had lain hidden beneath—and, mismatched against those breasts but grown to age-appropriate size, the large nipples—could be made out through the mucus.

　Just like her nipples, the areolae, oversized for her breasts, also looked plump with pleasure. Those nipples were stretched toward the ceiling, and the areolae could be seen, through the mucus, kneaded yawayawa as if pinched between fingers.

　It was as though her breasts were being kneaded by invisible hands.

　Above all, paired with the sharp sensation of being anally raped, the way her body leapt as though climaxing repeatedly from the stimulation of her nipples could only be described as obscene. Not even a prostitute would be as sensitive as this woman.

　From a crotch untouched for years, love juices poured forth; without underwear and stockings she might well have squirted many times over. The stain on the bed had become wet enough to call a puddle.

"Sto—p!"

　The fingers and toes of both hands and feet gripped the sheets fiercely. Her body chose not resistance but endurance. Her thoughts had already abandoned that role.

　Most painful of all was her anus. The sense of release of endless excretion continued, and that sensation was mistaken for pleasure.

　Even trying to resist the mucus trampling her intestines with that much force, she could not stop the mucus tentacle. Unlike before, when it had thrust in roughly, this time it pulled almost all the way out in a single motion.

"Foh—oh, oh, oh."

　Her field of vision dyed white. The will that had been trying to resist was burnt away in an instant.

　Though nothing was being done to her crotch, she tried to squirt, only to be blocked by her black panties, wetting her lower body. Her hips trembled gakugaku as though broken, and the toes that had been gripping the sheets braced her lower body.

　She thrust her hips toward the ceiling, spasming over and over, and each time, love juices spilled along her rear to the sheets.

　The area where her lower body had been a moment ago was in a sorry state. "Stains" was nowhere near enough—it was as if the adult Tiana had wet herself in massive quantities. On top of that, when love juices spilled along her raised rear, they almost made sloshing wet sounds.

　As she spasmed her hips over and over, at the same time the most sensitive weak point at the summits of her breasts—her nipples—were sharply pinched.

　An intense caress unlike any before. Not melting Tiana's limbs over time, but driving her to climax with violent pleasure.

　There was no enduring such a thing, and this time she climaxed from the stimulation of her nipples. The spasms in her lower body subsided slightly, and now her upper body spasmed.

　Crossing her arms as though to shield her caressed chest meant nothing—beneath the crossed arms her breasts were kneaded and her nipples tormented. Twisting her upper body in any attempt to escape the stimulation was meaningless.

　Her teeth, ground together as if to endure, chattered katchi, katchi. From biting too hard, the roots of her teeth would not meet.

　Tiana, weeping, drooling, thrashed on the bed in her underwear.

　When at last the stimulation to her nipples eased, the attention on her lower body resumed.

　Breathing raggedly, with her head fogged for reasons different from before, she felt the stimulation and turned her gaze toward her lower abdomen.

　Climax upon climax—her breath came painfully.

　Having sweated, the drug's effect had thinned considerably, and Tiana herself was conscious of her own awareness.

"Hih, hih—hiu!"

　Which was why she was forced to know that she was feeling under a monster's caresses, and tears welled in her eyes again.

　If it had been a human male, she knew that intercourse ended with ejaculation. But what about a monster? Did it ejaculate? Or would it continue caressing her this way forever?

　She did not know. That became fear, and eroded Tiana's spirit.

"Iyaaau."

　A strengthless moan escaped her lips. With an uncounted climax, she spasmed, her body convulsing—but the mucus kneading her chest, the mucus piercing her anus, did not stop. To the slime, Tiana's climaxes meant nothing.

　So with each passing moment, the fear born in her heart grew. She did not know what would become of her after this.

　Each climax stole her strength, and her ragged breathing was painful. If she went on stacking climax upon climax, perhaps she would no longer be able to breathe. Such was her fear.

　—Forced to climax, and killed.

"S, to… … p"

　Her face distorted at that fear, Tiana writhed somehow to escape the mucus… … to escape from atop the bed.

　She had to escape. She would be killed. Whether the slime was lowest-tier or not did not matter.

　She would be killed by a monster. Forced to climax, and killed.

"Hih, gih!"

　When she thrashed, driven by that fear, a strained scream escaped.

　Just when she thought so, another stimulus came from yet a different place. A place untouched until now. Her crotch. Her vagina. The depths of it.

"This time… … what?"

　A hoarse voice escaped. Her throat hurt with every breath. As she felt it—.

"U, gu—!"

　Again, the mucus moved back and forth as if savoring the clenching of her sphincter. That place—having had piston motion repeated many times with a thickness exceeding a grown man's thumb—was now obedient to the tentacle's touch, ready to open at any moment.

　Her sphincter was stretched to its limit and would not tense.

　Exhausted from continuous climax, Tiana somehow rolled off the bed in a bid to escape the mucus.

"Fuguh!?"

　With the impact, her abdomen was pressed, and along with a viscous buju sound, part of the slime in her intestines was pushed out. The pressure slackened, if only slightly, and at the sense of release her strengthless lower body spasmed against her will.

　Bibyu, bibyu. After several such expulsions, the unnaturally swollen black stockings returned to their original shape. The slime had returned to her intestines.

"Uh, uhh… …"

　At that, with even a touch of despair, Tiana lowered her face from her position fallen off the bed.

　Why she had been reduced to such a half-conscious state—she did not understand the principle, but she did know that the mucus tentacle that had been violating her was somehow involved. That the slime had returned to her intestines made her weep, her shoulders trembling.

　In her breast was fear. Tiana, who had concealed herself behind an iron mask, wept with a clear fear. Her face distorted, her body trembled as a physiological response, independent of her will.

　The slime crawled across her back, licked her sides, tickled her flanks. Her shapely legs in black stockings kicked the carpeted floor as if struggling to break free.

　The trembling of her hips grew greater still, and the force of the mucus violating her anus grew greater too. Where before only mucus-coated farts had made their filthy bubi sounds, now the tentacle's thrusts brought gubo, gubo sounds powerful enough to be heard clearly.

(I, it feels… …)

　It felt good. At the endlessly repeated pleasure of excretion, her eyes welled, her thoughts dyed pink.

　Her breath was disordered a thousand ways, and her lips, as though forgetting how to close, remained open, moaning. Tears and sweat and drool and snot had wholly broken the icy iron mask; her expression was wholly dyed with lust.

　But, even so. With tears flowing, she lifted her face desperately.

　Even with her face dyed with lust, she still reached out a desperate hand. Toward the way out of this hell of pleasure. Toward the door in the line of her sight.

　She had the conviction that if she were made half-senseless again, she would not be able to come back. She was accustomed to killing herself as an assassin. She understood that emotions unnecessary to killing were not needed.

　But that was by her own will. To kill the unneeded emotions, to focus on the kill. To kill the inconvenient emotion of taking life, and write it off as work. But that was a thought only for the duration of work.

　This was different. This tentacle was different. This slime was different.

　She had learned through her body. The means by which Tiana was rendered hollow in thought—the principle she could not understand—but there was something she did understand. If she felt that sensation one more time, she would no longer be able to come back.

　There would not be a second time.

　Or—when she came back, she would already be broken again. So it felt. The feel-good of being raped in the rear in that half-senseless state. What would happen if she felt that feel-good even once more—not even she knew.

　She could kill her own will herself, but she could not bear the fear of having her will killed regardless of her own intent.

　That was what she feared. Above all… … she was afraid of being developed to feel through the hole of excretion.

　Her usual iron mask wholly vanished, and with a desperate expression she made for the door, the exit.

　Trying to flee the tentacle that had occupied the bed, terrified inwardly, she crawled across the floor with both arms in desperation. Her lower body would not move. From the repeated pleasure of anal torment, her hips had given out. From that lower body, another viscous bubi sound was heard. Gas escaping from her strengthless anus.

　But Tiana, with no concern at all for that shame, crawled desperately across the floor.

　Once she had separated from the bed, she rubbed her body against the carpet to wipe away the mucus clinging to her, and from the belt still wound around her thigh she drew a knife.

　A tentacle stretched out aiming for the right hand holding the knife, but she cut it in a single stroke. Her body was fatigued and her technique dulled, but she would not be too slow for a slime that, first and foremost, never sought to wound its mother body.

　Her body remembered the sensation of cutting flesh. Precisely because no strength was in her, the technique she had cultivated to this day, to this moment, unconsciously cut the slime's tentacle.

"Kuh, still… …"

　Was there mucus still left in her anus? Thinking so, Tiana pressed her abdomen with her left hand. The pressure in her abdomen grew greater. Her desire to excrete dominated her thought, but she crawled forward desperately.

　Aiming for that Tiana, the mucus tentacles stretched out again.

　Her reaction was a beat too slow from the pressure, and the knife was knocked from her hand.

　Just like that, her wrist was bound, and she tried to draw out her knife with her free left hand. But that left hand too was caught, by another tentacle.

　It was the mucus she had rubbed against the floor earlier. From it a tentacle had risen. At some point, a tentacle had stretched from the bed and connected to the mucus rubbed off on the floor. The sight was almost as if more than half the room were occupied by the slime.

　Tentacles stretched from bed and floor, binding her hands from opposite directions.

　Pinned on the floor in the shape of a cross, restrained spread-eagle, Tiana writhed fiercely.

(M, my stomach… … my stomach, hurts—)

　Gyuru—her intestines screamed. Wanting to let it out. Wanting to be allowed to let it out—her intestines pleaded with Tiana. But Tiana was bound spread-eagle on the floor and could not let it out.

　Only the urge for the toilet grew strong, and a viscous, oily sweat, different from a fragrant one, broke out on her bare skin.

"Kuh—some, one—unh!?"

　When she opened her mouth to call for help, yet another tentacle stretched and sealed it shut.

　Then new tentacles stretched from the bed and floor and bound her legs as well. On the floor of her own room, in nothing but her underwear, Tiana was bound spread-eagle.

　However she thrashed to throw off the tentacles binding her hands and feet, there was not the slightest slack. She was completely restrained.

　In the meantime, the pressure in her lower abdomen grew stronger. The slime in her intestines went wild, stimulating her urge to excrete, but it would not leave. The sight was nothing less than hellish torment.

　Although the pain in her abdomen had reached its limit, no matter how she bore down she could not let it out. It was all up to the slime's will. If the slime did not seek to leave, she could not let it out, and even if this were her own room rather than the toilet, if the slime sought to leave, she would have to let it out.

　Faced with the reality that her excretion had been mastered, Tiana shed great tears.

"Mh… … mm—!?"

　She screamed desperately. But with the door closed there was no way her voice would reach outside.

　Her lower abdomen was being painfully pressed.

(W, what… … something, different, this!?)

　Just then, she realized that this differed from the pressure she had been feeling from her rear—the pressure of being driven deep, deeper, and being expelled.

　Not her rear. Further forward. A little higher up… … the depths of her crotch. Her womb was heavy.

"Mn!?"

　She did not understand. Why was it like this. What sort of situation was this. She did not understand. She did not understand, but—.

(My stomach, hurts… … I want to let it out. I want to let this out!!)

　The pain in her abdomen grew stronger. As she sweated even more than before, the thought of bearing it did not even arise. She wanted to let it out. If she did not, her stomach would burst—such was the pain.

　Even with her underwear on. Even with her black stockings on. Such things no longer mattered.

　She had to let it out. Driven by something close to obsession, Tiana herself came to wish for the very act that trampled on human dignity.

　She bit her teeth together within her mucus-sealed mouth and awaited the moment. Putting strength into her abdomen only made the pain greater. There was no longer any will to resist in Tiana. She only prayed, with all her heart, that the slime would leave her intestines.

(Pleasee… … come out. Come out—quickly, quickly… …)

　With the heart of one praying to a god, she went on wishing for it to leave. Without even the slightest chance to resist, Tiana was lifted up. With both arms still spread wide to the sides, she was made to stand like a prisoner being crucified.

"Mn, mu, uh… …"

(My bottom—it's, sinking)

　Drawn by gravity, she felt the slime in her intestines descend near her anus. Right beside her anus. Just behind. Right near the exit was the thing she wished to let out.

　She spread her legs unseemly wide, bent her knees, and tried to take the posture of one sitting on a toilet seat.

　But with both hands bound and forced to stand, that was difficult, and she could only contrive a strange posture of slightly bent knees while desperately pressing her rear toward the ground. Desperately, no doubt, for her legs were trembling so absurdly it was almost comic.

　Becoming an ungainly bow-legged figure—but to Tiana, if she could be freed of this stomach pain, any state at all was fine.

　There was no one else in the room to begin with, so it did not matter.

　The room was on the second floor, so there was no fear of being seen through the window.

　As she desperately tried to spread her legs, she keenly felt the slime beside her anus squirming.

"Mh… … m, uuh!"

(O, ut. Hurry up, come out)

　She bore down desperately. Putting strength into her rear, she strained the pressure of her intestines against the slime, trying to push it out, her face flushed bright red as she gathered strength in her lower abdomen.

　That was when it happened. Suddenly, fluid spilled from her crotch.

　This was different in essence from the squirting at climax—utterly different in volume. The flood of fluid swiftly darkened the color of her black stockings, and unable to be contained even then, ran down her legs and made a puddle on the floor.

"Mngh!? Mh, mn—!?"

(Wh, at!? Something is moving… … coming out, coming out!?)

　Tiana turned eyes that could scarcely believe what they saw toward her own lower abdomen. A gentle, slightly muscled, supple belly. No visible change. And yet within it—in a place she could not see—something was there. Moving. Moving, trying to come out.

　Precisely because it was her own body, even without being able to see it, she felt the anomaly keenly. Her own understanding could not catch up; she did not know what was happening.

　She just—could not hold it back. No, she did not even think of holding it back. If she could be freed of this abdominal pain, anything was fine. So great was the pain her stomach was in.

　Stomach, and rear. In all her life, Tiana's lower abdomen had never been in such an agonized state.

(It's, coming out!?)

　She could tell. She could feel it. There was something in her vaginal canal, where there had been no interference until now. The depths of her vagina, the depths beyond the cervix. The sacred place where a woman conceived a child—it hurt. Oily sweat broke out on her brow, ran down her cheeks, dripped from her chin.

　Sweating in quantities she did not herself notice, Tiana stared at her lower abdomen with widening eyes.

"M, gu, uh—uuh."

　Pain… … suffering, mixed into her voice. The sharp sensation of her cervix—the mouth of her womb leading to the way out—being pried open. Of course, having never opened her cervix before, this was a stimulus Tiana had never known. Suffering. Pain.

"Fuu, fuh!"

　Her breaths from her nose grew ragged, and her sweat poured even harder.

　Her bow-legged spread legs trembled as though broken, and the many tendons standing out on her inner thighs spoke of just how much strength Tiana was putting into her legs.

　Within her mucus-sealed mouth, she bit her well-aligned white teeth together, and her hands, spread wide as a cross, were balled so tightly they turned white. Even on those arms, tendons stood out in a way one could never have imagined on a woman's slender arms.

　The spasms in her lower body grew greater. The interval shortened, and the trembling grew fiercer.

"Fuu, fuu!"

　The breath from her nose was disordered a thousand ways; though snot dripped wretchedly, she did not care.

　Her cervix was pried open from the inside. At that pain, Tiana felt as though her field of vision had turned black. Her eyes rolled back, and the whites of her eyes showed. The convulsions of her hips grew so violent it seemed her lower body might truly be broken; both legs in black stockings darkened from thigh to ankle from the overflowing fluids.

"Oh, ah—aoh… …"

　A thick voice escaped her throat. Tiana's utmost resistance, with her mouth sealed. No—a cry for help. So painful was it, and the sense of release so great she felt she would lose her mind.

　Buju. The black stockings ballooned all at once.

　The slime that had overflowed from her anus had spilled out. Just as if she had soiled herself with her clothes on, the stockings bulged; bulging to the slime's mass and drawn by gravity, it stretched toward the floor.

　When the slime moved beneath her crotch, the stockings and panties were pulled and stretched.

　In the next moment, Tiana rolled her eyes and lost consciousness. As her whole body spasmed gakugaku as though broken, the string-thin panties and stockings tore all at once.

　Boto. It fell. The same as the black slime restraining both of Tiana's hands—only somewhat smaller. The slime that, all this while, had been violating Tiana's intestines.

　But Tiana's convulsions did not subside. Her abdomen swelled slightly, and that swelling descended. Her labia, no longer hidden by underwear, opened of their own accord, and from them another slime fell.

　It was the slime born from Fiana last night.

　The slime that had taken up residence in Tiana's womb had drunk a great quantity of love juices and mana to grow, and even while residing in her womb, had impregnated Tiana.

　In that case, it would normally be small, weak enough to lose even to an insect, but Fiana's slime, by sharing a portion of its own bodily fluid, had caused the slime born from Tiana to be birthed in an already-grown state.

"Nh, fu… …"

　Tiana, with eyes rolled back and unconscious, even so—at the sense of release of finally having the foreign objects crawl out from her anus and womb—her expression slackened. Slovenly, but somehow happy-looking.

　Not an iron mask but the smile of a mad prostitute.

　When her arms were released as her face still wore that look, drawn by gravity, she pitched face-first into the floor.

　Clad in torn stockings and black underwear, she lay sprawled on the floor in a thoroughly provocative pose.

　Her body convulsed in small bursts again and again, and each time love juices spilled from the vaginal canal the slime had crawled out of, while from the urethra above came pyuh, pyuh of squirting.

　Pusu. From the chrysanthemum-knot released from the slime's violence, a small sound escaped. A sphincter stretched to its limit, a pitiful hole that had lost its closure. Perhaps, from now on, at every excretion, she would recall this pain… … and the pleasure of release.

　As if waiting for that intense sensation of moments ago to come again, the anus—which her string-thin panties could not hide—repeated small openings and closings.

　With Tiana exposing such a pitiable figure on the carpeted floor, the two slimes that had occupied her womb and anus lifted her up.

　Although smaller than their parent Black Ooze, they were still monsters. As though carrying a single person were a trivial thing, they lifted her, opened the window, and went outside.

　No one else was in sight. Although the maids lived within the castle, this area held many of their quarters. There were various complications with stationing guards.

　Above all, the castle-serving maids were chosen after rigorous background checks, and each was able to defend herself. There was no need for guards—rather, they themselves were the watchers.

　Thus, unseen by anyone, the two slimes passed through the window with Tiana and carried her where no eye would see.

　Separate from Tiana and the two, the slime born from Tiana's womb went a different way.

　Toward the castle town.

　That day. The day a band of knights set off for the abandoned mine to subjugate the monster.

　… … From the royal castle, one maid disappeared.