Still, a Filthy World (5)
The humiliation play was far from over.
I had to lie there, trembling and helpless, and watch Junhyuk fetch a rag and scrub the floor I had thoroughly soaked.
"Hey…. Don't. I'll do it."
"In that condition? Just get on the bed first…."
"No! Ah, no…."
When I snapped at him as he came to help me up, Junhyuk flinched, suddenly remembering the state I was in.
"I'll go myself. I can do it…."
I crawled toward the bed more than walked. Every time I moved my legs, the sensitive flesh between them was stimulated all over again, so the whole way there I left another trail on the floor, accompanied by involuntary, filthy little moans.
In the end Junhyuk couldn't take it anymore and lodged a complaint.
"Philin, uh…."
"What, you bastard."
"As a healthy guy, this is kind of hard to just…."
"Endure it. No matter what, hngh! …endure it. It's your fault, so nnngh! …shut up and endure it. Got it?"
"…Okay."
There was nothing remotely threatening about the way I said it.
After I had climaxed so hard earlier, the moment I poured every scrap of remaining strength into explaining the horn fragment, Junhyuk had recoiled in shock and dropped it at once. No further stimulation had been added since then, but my body had already been tortured all night; normal condition was a distant dream.
"Philin, if you're okay with it, want me to suck those for you?"
"Have you lost your mind?!"
"No—your clothes! Your underwear and skirt! I meant I'd wash them!"
At my shrill scolding he jumped and waved both hands frantically. After a whole night of torment, even my brain seemed pickled in lust. Context made it obvious he meant laundry, yet my thoughts refused to function normally.
Saying I'd handle it myself was impossible; I was nowhere near okay.
"…Underwear. Lend me something comfortable."
I had no choice but to surrender.
The night-long pleasure torture had soaked not only my underwear but the skirt as well, so the classic "change panties under the skirt" skill was off the table.
Junhyuk pulled a familiar item from the drawer—boxer briefs—then turned his head away and held them out with only his hand.
"Put them on. You… can manage that much alone, right?"
"Of course…. Nnh! And you…. Don't look over here, haah! Look somewhere else. At your phone, whatever…."
"I was going to anyway, so don't worry about it. I mean, don't stress."
"…Annoying."
I snatched the underwear with a grumble. Junhyuk spoke carefully, in the most polite voice he could manage.
"And…. Philin."
"What now."
"You don't have to return them. Just keep them."
"I'm throwing them out! Wearing them today and tossing them! Am I that dirty to you? Huh?"
"No, no! That's not what I meant—I just thought it might be embarrassing if you had to give them back…."
Watching him deny it so fiercely, ears bright red, I felt a twinge of guilt myself. This mess had happened in his house; of course he was rattled. Come to think of it, it was a miracle I hadn't been jumped—standing in front of a teenage boy whose blood was running hot, pouring out lewd pheromones from broad daylight onward.
"It's going to take a while for you to settle down, so I'll call 119 like last time."
Junhyuk muttered it through a face as red as a tomato and picked up his phone. I had no real choice. Too drained to change a single pair of underwear by myself—what good would throwing a tantrum do?
Trembling, I managed to pull the skirt down and peel off the soaked underwear. I couldn't bring myself to hand it to him directly, so I left it on the floor and pulled on the briefs he had given me. My body was so much smaller than his that they looked less like trunks and more like dolphin shorts.
"Hey, these…. Take them."
"I'll send the skirt to dry cleaning."
"…Fine."
The old "skirt flips up and underwear shows" event looked almost refined by comparison. I had never once imagined I would end up stripping my underwear in front of a boy and then handing him the damp pair to wash. The thoroughly soaked uniform skirt that came as a set was just the bonus. Two pieces of laundry meant double the humiliation!
…Putting it into words like that made the whole thing sound ridiculously lewd and degrading. Just thinking about it threatened to set my body off again, so I forced myself to dwell on the saddest thoughts I could and sang the national anthem in my head. Feeling my body still tingle and respond to pleasure even while I tried to be sad—how wretched that was hit me every single second. I swore, over and over, that I would never crack a joke like "the body is honest no matter what" even as a gag.
"Philin, I'm sorry."
Junhyuk stopped wiping the floor and said it quietly.
"It's because of me again…."
I had been struggling to climb onto the bed; at those words I turned back toward him.
"Hey."
"Yeah…? Whoa!"
"D-don't look this way!"
He had been turning with pity in his eyes; he whipped his head away in a panic. I hurriedly dropped my hands and clamped my legs together, yanking the trunks down to hide what was underneath.
"You saw."
"No! I didn't see anything!"
"…Don't lie."
Under the icy interrogation he hung his head toward the wall and confessed in a tiny voice.
"Actually, for like two seconds…."
"Hey!!"
At times like this you're supposed to just say you didn't see anything! Being needlessly honest only made people more embarrassed.
"Forget it…. Just finish what you were doing over there."
Leaving Junhyuk still bowed under guilt, I flailed my way onto the bed and rested my head on the pillow. As always, it smelled good. Somehow that calmed me enough that I found the emotional room to comfort the still-sulking Junhyuk.
"You didn't do it on purpose either. And anyway…. I'm the one who decided to stay and watch over you while you slept."
"That's true, but…."
"I couldn't just leave. That's all it was. Don't read anything extra into it."
Even as I snapped that out, I caught myself fretting, What if the blanket gets wet too? and a sigh escaped on its own. There was no bigger soft touch than me.
Still, the feeling was a little strange. Junhyuk was clearly a guy, a body that should have been biologically familiar—yet standing in front of him in nothing but trunks felt this mortifying? The doubt rose unbidden.
…Without realizing it, I had changed a lot. The thought left me a little complicated. Before the weird mood could deepen, I tossed out a flat line to tidy up the conversation.
"Anyway, I mean don't apologize. Got it?"
Just as Junhyuk was about to answer, a portal formed in front of the door, and a woman healer in a neat suit and white coat stepped through.
The face was somehow familiar; I was frowning over it when—
"Oh my. It's that climax couple from last time. Looks like I arrived right on cue."
Of all people, it was the same woman who had shown up when both my horns had been grabbed and I blacked out. Damn it. I was cursing her in my head when a retort suddenly occurred to me; I glared at her with dagger eyes.
"Isn't shaming a patient a violation of a healer's basic principles?"
I growled it low and cold, meaning it as a warning from one healer to another, but there was no way a flushed girl still lying in bed could project any real threat.
"Oh my. Sorry. I only meant you two are healthy. Honestly, I'm jealous!"
"Please stop."
"Yes, yes. Understood. I'll start with a nerve-calming prescription first. …Oh my?"
As she prepared the treatment she looked at the floor and sucked in a startled breath. For a second I panicked that my uniform skirt and panties were still lying there, shame flooding in—but.
"The horn's broken off."
When she reached to pick it up, Junhyuk tried to stop her with a "Wait!"
But she lifted it calmly, as if she already knew everything, then held out her open palm to halt him instead.
"Don't worry. Me holding it does nothing."
Just as she said, she rolled the horn fragment around in her hand; nothing happened to me. To Junhyuk's blank stare she offered an explanation.
"This is…. No. Better if the boyfriend side doesn't know. Anyway, I can't reattach this horn for you."
"Then what happens to the piece?"
I spun a wild fantasy that it might somehow end up traded on the black market as a "Philin Training Special Remote" and leave me under threat of social suicide—but.
"I'll dispose of this little menace cleanly, so don't worry. First let's get you stabilized."
No such thing. At her core she was a good person. Just a mischievous one.
The healer placed one hand on my solar plexus and began treatment while holding the horn fragment in the other, preparing a spell.
Then, without being asked, she launched into a full explanation for me as I lay on the bed staring blankly.
"A demon's horn is a concentrated mass of mana and the medium through which a demon's abilities manifest, so even if it breaks or is cut off, the fragment still retains its effect. Therefore, if you want the horn to regenerate from the broken surface, the remaining piece must be completely destroyed."
As soon as she finished, the fragment in her hand began to tremble faintly. With a low goooh, the horn rose slightly above her palm; a transparent spherical wave pulsed around it, the vibration growing stronger.
And the next instant—
Crack! The horn shattered. No shards flew; everything was neatly contained inside the wave.
"How was that? Do I look a little cool?"
She looked a bit slapdash on the surface, but in delicate work her true skill shone.
She was the real deal.
"Get some sleep for a bit. Doesn't look like you got proper rest."
Just as she said, once the excitement in my body settled, sleep crashed over me at once. That long, winding ordeal finally ended, and I sank into deep sleep.
Half-dreaming, I heard someone pounding on the door and a brief commotion outside.
Too annoying, too exhausted—I just curled up tighter.
It was probably nothing.