Youngae's Assistance
"Youngae, you okay?"
Thankfully, Youngae came to her senses right away.
"Ah.... Just for a moment..... I'm okay now."
"Good. Then I'll keep going."
His cock was still buried inside her, so he immediately started moving his hips again.
"W-wait a sec... Hnngh!!"
Squelch, squelch, squelch, squelch, squelch, squelch, squelch, squelch, squelch.
"Haaang, h-h-haa, p-please... haaaang..!!"
Around the time he came once more, Youngae reached another massive orgasm.
"Haaaaaaaang!!!!♥♥♥"
Youngae's body went limp powerlessly. He stroked her while keeping his cock inside, waiting for her afterglow to fade, but even after about five minutes, she was still completely slack.
"Youngae, you okay?"
She shook her head weakly, too spent to reply, breathing raggedly. It had already been five minutes—seemed a bit long, but.
That last climax was pretty intense.
It was the most explosive reaction she'd shown so far. Judging by the GP he'd earned, it must've been at least five times a normal orgasm. Her mental and physical arousal had been that high, so it wasn't strange that it wouldn't settle quickly.
But that didn't mean he was going to let her off.
His twisted, pent-up lust was practically infinite. If his body were exhausted, maybe, but his desire wasn't satisfied yet—there was no stopping now.
He wanted more. He wanted to savor her even deeper, to flood her insides with his cum again.
His cock wasn't satisfied. As its appendage, his body had no choice but to obey.
"If you're tired, just rest. I'll handle it myself."
Youngae's face paled, and as if new GP had appeared out of nowhere, she thrashed and pulled away from him. She let out a whimper at the sensation of his cock slipping out from filling her up, instinctively clamping her legs shut.
"H-hubby. Just a moment. Let me rest a bit. Please?"
He called to her in her defensive posture.
"Youngae."
"Y-yes?"
"Our Youngae. Weren't you going to live as my wife from now on?"
Satisfying your husband is a wife's duty, right?
She bit her lip hard, catching the implication in his words.
Terrified of the brain-melting pleasure to come, she still spread her legs. Good girl. He felt a twinge of guilt too. But it couldn't be helped. Now that she'd chosen to live as his wife, this was her fate to accept.
"Don't worry. I'll go easy. Ready?"
"Huh? W-wait—"
Squish!
"H-h-haaaaaang!!!"
He grinned wickedly at her status message flashing injustice. He had a sadistic streak, deriving pleasure from seeing his partner suffer. Might as well make her agony speed up his satisfaction.
So endure it a little. It'll end faster that way.
"W-wait.. hnng. Just a moment..."
She spoke formally to him. He'd always felt it since she, twelve years his senior, used formal speech—but did she know how it stoked a man's desire? Gazing down at her pleading voice, he thrust lightly. Her face stiffened, body twitching sharply. He thrust again.
"Hngh, haa, haa, haaaaaah...."
Her body, soaked in excessive pleasure, amplified the stimulus several times over before sending it to her brain.
Youngae had steeled her resolve and spread her legs, but her body clearly disagreed with her will. It reflexively rebelled against him.
Can't let that slide.
He pinned her limbs, flattening her body beneath him, and drove his hips forward.
"Haaaaak! Haaaaak! H-haaaa.... haaaak!!!!"
She climaxed spectacularly again. At some point, her body started going completely slack. Her muscles weren't responding to her brain's commands anymore, pushed beyond the limit by the orgasms.
Seeing her like that filled him with smug pleasure. Like a predator devouring the weak? True domination over the female before him.
He couldn't hold back anymore and pistoned wildly.
"Hnght. Kkh. Kh... ughhh! P-please!"
Unable even to resist, she lay there legs splayed, taking every thrust fully. It felt different from before. With her muscles limp and slack, there was no natural twitch or response you'd expect from a person.
A different texture. Like fucking an onahole for masturbation.
Right now, he was using one woman purely as a cum dump. That sadistic thrill heightened his arousal. His movements sped up naturally.
Her pleasure—no, her pain—intensified accordingly. Strictly speaking, pleasure was a form of pain signal, transmitted via nociceptors to the brain. The brain interprets below threshold as pleasure, above as pain.
Her hypersensitive body turned that pleasure into pain-like agony, and she moaned nonstop, unsure if it was ecstasy or torment.
Her over-sensitized body finally reached the point where a single thrust triggered orgasm. Every hip snap made her climax.
Even in her octopus-like limpness, her pussy clenched around him at climax. The contrast—slack until suddenly squeezing—felt exquisite. Like a premium onahole that only reacted on deep thrusts.
Her face was a mess of drool and tears. Her eyes fully rolled back, making him worry if something was wrong. Pushing her this far, even he felt a pang of guilt.
Just then, his balls signaled release.
One more load, then let her rest.
To free her from pleasure hell sooner, he went all out. Thwack, thwack, thwack, thwack, thwack, thwack, thwack, thwack!
"Kkh. Khh, ha... haaaook... ha, grrrk..."
Her moans had long shifted from nasal whines to guttural death rattles.
As the urge built, he slammed harder. Her body convulsed in spasms. No chance for afterglow—one orgasm crashed into the next before the last faded.
Hell, huh.
Endless repeated climaxes turned paradise into hell. In a way, it was hell. Her brain overloaded from excessive pleasure, short-circuiting.
As she passed out again, thick white cum erupted from his cocktip. Buried deep, he shuddered in release—then noticed something off. Her reactions had vanished completely.
Startled, he checked her face: eyes half-open, pupils rolled up in a grotesque stare, face ashen and dangerous-looking. He pressed his ear to her chest—heart still beating steadily, thank god.
Still, her state was far from good. Without even wiping the fluids from his cock, he hurriedly massaged her limbs, flipped her over, and rubbed her back.
He activated Action Hand and massaged for ten minutes until she woke.
"Youngae! You okay?"
She stared blankly, disoriented, then her face twisted as tears welled up.
He panicked as she burst into sobs.
"What's wrong? Does it hurt?"
"Huaaaang.... Thought I was dying..."
He hugged her tight as she cried.
"Huaaaaang, kk, haaaaaang.... I told you, kk, to stop."
"Sorry... I..."
Her tears flooded him with guilt. Even he knew he'd gone too far—fucking her unconscious twice.
He patted her back until the tears stopped.
"There. No more tears, and we'll stop for today. Really over! Promise!"
"Hng.... Really?"
"Yeah. Promise."
Youngae finally stopped crying. He felt a subtle regret. The different feel got me too excited... Saying that would piss her off, even if it was her.
Until sunset, they enjoyed light skinship. For dinner, they planned drinks with her cooking.
He pulled premium whiskey from the cabinet and watched her cook. A feast of gorgeous dishes filled the table.
"Whoa. You made a ton. Can't eat it all."
"Just... I didn't get to cook for anyone much before."
He could guess the unspoken words. Instead of comfort, he took a bite.
"Whoa! Not just pretty—tastes amazing too. You're incredible, our Youngae."
"Glad it suits your taste."
Youngae beamed.
"Suits? It's the best. Let's drink. Appetizers make me crave booze. Sit. I'll handle the drinks."
He seated her and rummaged through the cabinet and fridge, setting up on-the-rocks.
"Cheers?"
"Yes. Cheers."
Glasses clinked with a clear ring, and they drank.
"Got something I'm curious about."
"What?"
"What're we doing from now on?"
"From now on? About what?"
"You've mostly stayed home managing beauty care till now. Things changed, so I don't want that anymore."
Youngae gazed at him steadily.