Chapter 100
Chapter 100
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Translator: Ebonarch
Chapter: 100
Chapter Title: Love is a Lie (3)
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Shin Siwoo laid Yebin down on the bed.
He raised her arms above her head, crossed her wrists, and pinned them with one hand.
He wedged his lower body between her legs to keep them from closing, then kneaded her soft, yielding breasts like they were his own.
"Ah... uh... haa..."
Even though he'd already climaxed several times today, his cock showed no signs of softening.
If anything, it throbbed harder than before—several times more fiercely.
He pressed his hips firmly against her, savoring the slick, tender folds of her pussy to the fullest.
"Hng... ugh...!"
No complex thoughts crossed his mind.
Truth be told, Siwoo wasn't capable of higher reasoning right now.
The treatment was only half complete.
His thoughts flowed disjointedly, without cohesion.
Someone's underneath me. Feels good. Pretty face. Big tits. Asian. Moving my hips. Knees are soft.
A string of fragmented perceptions, none connecting into meaningful insight.
Yet one instinct burned clear in his body.
Pound into this woman with his hips.
Fill the bitch's womb with sticky semen and impregnate her.
The former for pleasure.
The latter to sate the primal urge to propagate.
His body commanded the sequence of actions.
"Ah... haa... hng...! Ah... ah!"
-Rip!
Siwoo's hand tore Yebin's dress savagely.
The fabric was so thin it shredded like tissue paper.
Yebin let out a sharp yelp as her disheveled clothes parted, revealing her delectable naked body in full.
Her breasts bounced up and down with every thrust—plump and jiggly.
Even for a woman of her petite stature, their volume was impressive.
Blue veins stood out prominently, ripples forming across them—a sight rare even on larger breasts.
Even lying down, they didn't spread sideways but quivered at the center, topped by a gradient pink areola like a saucer.
The areolae, about the size of an index finger's width, asserted their presence.
They were on the larger side, but their lovely hue left no room for complaint.
They contrasted sharply with her innocent face, stirring a raw, lascivious allure.
"Ah... hoo... heut...!"
Siwoo thrust at a steady rhythm while clutching one breast.
Amid its perfect blend of firmness and softness, the perky nipple demanded attention.
The erect bud was a shade darker than the areola.
Beneath lay a feast of pale, smooth skin.
Not too skinny, not too plump—just the ideal, fuckable build.
Unlike a man's, her higher fat ratio gave her a supple, soft abdomen.
A belly so yielding it seemed his fingers would sink right in.
Etched atop it was a shimmering pale-green tattoo.
More precisely, not a tattoo—the Stigma of Smirna.
Siwoo released her breast and gently traced the stigma.
It was an abstract womb rendered in nineteen strokes.
Caught between eerie power and devouring pleasure, Yebin's thighs twitched as she murmured,
"Wh-what are you... haang... ahshi... You won't understand anyway..."
Siwoo was stroking the stigma, but from Yebin's angle, she couldn't tell.
Imagining he was staring at her shameful hole—spread wide around his pistoning cock—her face burned with humiliation.
She should escape now.
Her wrists were loose; a little effort and she'd be free...
"Nngh...! Hng... hng... ahng..."
But she didn't want to.
A man driving into her from above felt worlds apart from her moving alone.
Like the gulf between masturbation and sex, or porn missionary versus the real thing.
More precisely, she'd never imagined it could feel this embarrassing.
Her elastic legs splayed wide, begging for his cock.
Her shameful hole fully exposed to his gaze.
And her breasts—flopping shamelessly, impossible to ignore.
She couldn't even meet his eyes.
Her hands pinned overhead made it feel like she was being taken by force.
Like he was devouring her body with relish.
That thought alone set her aflame even hotter.
"Oo... oot... ung... aaaahng...!"
Yebin's hips bucked upward, her back arching into a graceful curve.
Without moving, her pussy clenched wildly, inner walls writhing in a symphony that milked his cock as she crested into orgasm.
"Uwa... ah... hat... hiik, oo... ung..."
Her mind floated away.
Her vision flashed; ragged breaths burst from her lungs.
For nearly thirty seconds, her body was beyond control.
"N-now... that's enough, right?"
Yebin whipped her head aside, eyes squeezed shut as she spoke.
Her head still swam with afterglow, but sanity crept back.
What the hell was this?
Treatment was time-sensitive—how much time did they have to fool around?
Time for beastly lust was over.
Now, as a rational healer, she needed to report the patient's status to his guardian.
"G-get... get out... of me...!"
But Yebin's resolve crumbled like sand when Siwoo resumed his thrusts.
Her post-orgasm pussy—hypersensitive and tight—endured his savage pounding.
Faster. More precise.
"Oof... w-wait... just...! Siwoo...!"
Siwoo leaned forward, lifting Yebin's ass on his thighs.
Her spine curved sharply; now even she could see his massive cock plunging in and out.
And the brutal way it battered her cervix—each thrust felt like it could trigger ovulation.
Not scientifically or magically possible, of course... but that's how it felt.
"Ah... nooo...!"
Siwoo ignored her pleas.
He released her wrists, gripped her ass firmly, and hammered downward at an angle.
She could escape, but didn't want to.
This was wrong, but she craved it.
-Squish! Squish! Squish!
Each pounding of her pretty pussy sent droplets splashing onto her face.
Her own juices.
"Eek... hngt... there... right there, it feels so good..."
In the end, Yebin chose to be his plaything a little longer.
Screw it! Who cares! It feels too damn good! Why hold back? Full indulgence mode.
"Aht... aa... heuuu..."
Her legs dangled limply, swinging with each thrust.
Something was building—something massive about to burst.
"Hieeeuk...!"
The cock grinding every ridge inside her suddenly hardened further.
From rock-solid to steel.
Swollen to bursting, right before release.
Once. Twice. Thrice.
"Haa... hat... hng... ahng...!"
Yebin's hips quivered as she squirted wildly, dancing in ecstasy.
Breasts jiggling like pudding, pussy twitching skyward to receive his load, even her asshole pulsing in sync.
Then, hot semen flooded her inverted womb like wine into a glass.
"Haa... haang... aa..."
As Yebin basked in rosy afterglow, a change occurred.
"Wha... what...?"
-Shoooo!
An enormous surge of mana drained from Yebin's stigma.
Straight through Siwoo's cock, buried deepest within her.
A chill ran through Yebin.
She'd felt mana drain like a bottomless jar during major spells—but always voluntarily.
This was forced, unprecedented in ferocity.
"St-stop...!"
Sensing danger, Yebin tried shoving him off.
Impossible.
Not by strength alone—her spells all misfired amid the raging mana torrent.
Reclaiming control felt like tug-of-war with an elephant.
The gap was insurmountable—even though this was her long-accumulated, personalized mana.
Yebin stared at Siwoo's face with trembling eyes.
His right eye: vacant, emotionless.
His left glass prosthetic flickered with golden mana reflections, just like the Siwoo she'd met in Ain.
-Crackle! Crack-zzt!
Black sparks erupted behind him like severed high-voltage lines.
Paralyzed by the impossible sight, Yebin shuddered.
Then the drain ended.
Precisely: once all mana from her stigma was sucked dry.
"Wha...?"
And it reversed—pouring back through his cock.
"Wh-what the...?"
Pure white mana rushed into her womb like rapid charging, filling her empty stigma to the brim.
The process defied all norms.
A witch's mana cycle had three phases:
Absorption.
Personalization.
Storage.
Women couldn't generate mana; they drew from surroundings or mana essences.
Absorption.
Refining stored mana into the most usable form over time.
Personalization.
Preserving it without leakage for optimal use.
Storage.
"H-how is this... possible...?"
Personalization normally took ages.
Even pure mana held impurities; refining them was tricky.
For a 19th-rank witch's total capacity, refilling and personalizing from empty took over a month.
But Siwoo's mana was different.
Absorbed and re-emitted by his body, it should be tainted—yet it was pristine.
Yebin had never felt such purity.
Compared to this, Emerald Tablet's finest mana essence seemed muddy.
She could cast spells with it immediately, no personalization needed.
And the quantity...
It dwarfed what she'd given—far more returned.
Yet Siwoo's body brimmed with even more.
She gave 10; got 20 back; he kept 30.
Not mere purification.
He'd absorbed, amplified, refined, and returned it.
Amplification should degrade purity—this defied logic entirely.
"Wh-what the hell is this...?"
As stunned Yebin gaped at him, his head lolled like a narcoleptic's.
His body toppled backward onto the bed.
"What happened?"
The post-sex mishap ended abruptly as Amelia—alarmed by the mana surge—rushed in from the research annex.