Pain
A single candle struggled to illuminate the dark room alone, and I rolled my eyes in reliance on its feeble light. If this had been a house in some developing country, I might have bluntly called it shitty, but this was a house in what seemed like a medieval or early modern city in a fantasy world. For some reason, when I looked around the house with that in mind, even the shabby wooden planks felt wondrous. If I'd just seen it for what it was on my first day, I might have taken an interest in this world out of curiosity, my heart pounding with excitement I couldn't contain, and strutted through the streets like those adventurers, proclaiming myself one. But as it was, I woke up in the Demon King's Castle knowing nothing, thought I'd adapted a little, became a fugitive, got caught and turned into a slave. And now this.
In this moment devoid of any atmosphere, the hero's eyes sparkled as he declared he was going to vent his lust again. No matter that it was Lobelia Yuris's body, the sight of him inside me filled me with uncontrollable disgust. If it had been during soccer or basketball, hearing a man's heavy breathing while running, I might have thought, We're both exhausted, pushing hard. But the sound of him lusting after my body triggered pure revulsion. The moment he unbuckled his belt and exposed his lower half, nausea surged up like I might vomit right then.
Unlike when he ravaged me mindlessly, now I had time to calmly watch, which made it worse. But I couldn't push him away. I couldn't resist. Partly from fear of getting hit, but above all because of the handcuffs binding my wrists. They were longer than modern police cuffs, offering a bit of slack—but only a bit.
I'm scared. Don't. It hurts. I'm hurting. Stop. It's not fun at all. Trembling in terror, I shuddered recalling that sensation. Desperate not to feel it again, I clasped my hands over my crotch. With handcuffs on, coverage was limited anyway, so I blocked what I could. But I soon realized it was futile.
With one arm, he forced my raised hands into a full surrender pose, exposing my entire body. "Ugh..." I tried to clamp my legs, but with him wedged between them, helplessness doubled. No way to dislodge him. My trembling breasts had nowhere to go, so I squeezed my eyes shut. He just sat there a moment, then stroked my belly.
A slick sound of skin rubbing—squick—and his hand reached my lower abdomen. Squeeze. Not hard, but unpleasant all the same, unbearable. I thrashed, kicking my legs to escape. "D-don't, don't do it... Please don't."
My voice shook as I begged him. Anything to get away. But he pinned my wriggling belly firm, immobilizing me. "...Please. No." I pleaded desperately, but the hand pressing my stomach slid slowly downward, groping my lower parts. It crept toward my groin, then touched my intimate folds. The instant it did, my body shuddered violently. Uncontrollably, my hips bucked, twisting side to side. "Hik...!?"
Panicking, I tried shoving his hand away, but he held my cuffed arms fixed and probed my slit with log-like fingers. My powerless crevice parted easily under them, baring its shameful depths. What an absurd situation. If it weren't my body, I might hypnotize myself it wasn't humiliating—but the sensations screamed that this was Lobelia Yuris now, me, rendering it all pointless.
A piercing sensation threaded through my quivering flesh. "Urk..." His fingers hadn't seemed that thick just looking, but thrusting into me felt like a pointed spear. The forced parting of what was closed went beyond unpleasant into torment. As I groaned in agony, he wiggled them deeper. Swish, swish. Each squirm made my body quake.
Before, when he'd just rammed in his enlarged cock, I'd cried from pain and misery. Was he foreplaying by recalling that? I furrowed my brow at the thought, but even now, fingering me didn't improve my mood. Maybe the disgust was too overwhelming. I just wished he'd stop. Revulsion twisted my face at his forceful spreading for his own pleasure—not from pain, but pure displeasure. That furrowed his brow too.
"...Smooth out that frown." His low voice commanded, displeased by my expression. How had it become so coercive? Such a forced bastard. I tried erasing the grimace, but his stirring fingers tormented me anew, distorting my face again. How long did he churn inside me? Despite my reluctance, my pussy—stimulated by his fingers—began leaking fluids heedlessly. Squelch.
Maybe the slickness would bring arousal, let me forget the pain? No such luck. My escapist hope shattered instantly. Why, even as he dug and pistoned, did only misery and disgust fill me? With someone I loathed, did forced acts just breed irritation?
"Eut, urk." Only pained groans escaped my throat, and soon he withdrew his slick fingers, erect cock pressed to my lower belly. ...Bigger than before? At the thought, I knew my face paled without needing a mirror. Fingers alone felt like logs piercing me—how would that monster ravage my insides? Obvious agony awaited.
"Hik, w-wait a sec." His cock thudded against my belly, as if declaring it'd reach there. Terrified, I tried stopping him in a panicked voice. "Please, please don't. I'll sleep on the floor. I-I'll eat the potato from before if you give it back... Aaah!!"
My desperate plea fell on deaf ears; he pulled back his hips briefly, then wedged his cock into my slit, stabbing the hole. Something thicker than his fingers now invaded the path they'd trailed. "Heok, heuk, uk, hak."
Writhing in torment, groaning, he spoke. "No, if I meant to kill you, wouldn't this punishment be too light? It's your fault."
"No, no... Spare, urk." It hurts, hurts. Hurts, agony. My vision whitened. The piercing sensation, this intense pain, overwhelmed me—I couldn't even twist properly. Thrashing would churn my insides worse, the fact burned into my brain.
"Huwik, it hurts, it hurts..." Tears brimmed, spilling toward my ears. Back when he mocked men for ugly crying, I'd held back—but now, I'd sob uncontrollably. As tears flowed from misery, he tsked, grabbing my throat.
"Kek." "...Your kin killed my family and lover—got it? I could rip you apart right now, and you'd still owe me gratitude for sparing you."
I didn't kill them. You tried killing Kudbeka too. So can I hate all humans, not just you? Humans kill too, but the blame falls only on the perpetrator. Why hate me like this? Because of these horns? This hair? These eyes? Just for being a demon?
My throat tightened gradually, breathing labored. Blood rushed to my head, face swelling like it'd burst. Convulsing in pain, his size seemed to swell more. Hurts. Gasping kek kek, I struggled for air through the tiny gap. Apparently not intent on choking me out, he loosened his grip slightly and began rocking his hips.
"Kek, ek. Huuuk!" "Huu." My pained groans followed his deep exhale. His cock withdrew from inside me, then plunged back. A sharp stab like gutting my belly—urk—breath caught again. Even soaked, why this pain? Tears wouldn't stop, incomprehensible.
Gripping my quaking little body, his gaze flicked to my jiggling breasts, then he thrust faster. Too agonizing to endure, a choked, airy voice escaped my constricted throat. "Ha, don't. Disgusting."
What do you see in this wretch you'd sooner kill? Why do this? Tearfully voicing it, he gritted his teeth, hips slamming fiercer. "What? Disgusting? You think you're in a position to say that?"
"...Uk!" Thud—pain bloomed in my belly. My body jerked; unsatisfied, he drove his cock deep, murderous. They said doggy made tips easier to hit, but his size and my smallness meant even missionary, gripping my pelvis and thrusting deep, reached the end. Cervix. Learning its existence from his cock—and how filthy painful it was.
"Uwaak, aaaak!" Agony ripped a scream free. Unstoppable, body shivering, arms pinned by him, lower half skewered immobile—utterly helpless. If it'd been like this, I wouldn't have bothered with the fork. The collar prevented scratching my throat—annoying then, but luxurious now. My neck felt free, head turning easily, but bound hands stuck together bred suffocating frustration. Even one arm free might ease it, but no—I writhed futilely. Still trapped, relentless thud thud pounding my pussy echoed.
No matter the juices lubricating, pain persisted. Misery. Tears welled endlessly, breaths ragged. Unneeded pain made them hitch sporadically. "Hik, hik, hik, hik." Gasping moans for air worsened the shortness. Oxygen-starved, head spun. Hurts, stop. Please. Exhausted, words failed. Thud, thud, thud, thud. Wet slaps filled my ears. I swallowed groans, enduring.
"Happy? Enjoying it?" Not at all. Just hurts, agony. Grimacing, exhaling, finally his hand released mine. Barely able to lower them, I shoved at him—but he held firm like an ancient tree, thick arms clamping my waist.
Wait, wait. Recognizing the pose, eyes wide in dismay, I flailed my bound hands to shake him off. What men did at climax—him or any—mostly one thing: grip waist, bury deep, pump like refueling. The thought flashed; horrified, I scowled. Outside, please. Please. Pleading, waving hands, but he sneered, yanking my hips tight.
"Urk... Hawik." Vision jolted, whitening; yellow-tinged. Like internals stabbed, agony raced up my spine, exploding in my brain. Then his cock swelled faintly, pulsing, spewing inside. Gurgle, gurgle. Semen flooded in, but the throbbing form amplified torment.
"Kwaaaak! Aaaak!" "Shut up!" "Keheok."
My scream cut short as he seized my throat again, squeezing.