Mad Night Walk (3)
Returning to the mansion with the Elf in tow, I realized that making her piss on my father's statue was merely the first step toward resolving the problem.
Thud—With each of my footsteps, the Elf crawled on all fours down the mansion's corridor, right at my side. And that was what made it all so bewildering. The candles burning at regular intervals cast a faint light into the mansion's shadows, but they did nothing to illuminate the turmoil in my heart.
Why the hell is she still crawling around!?
I'd clearly told her when we entered the mansion that the naked walk was over—she could stand on two feet now. But the Elf had shaken her head, whining that she hadn't received enough punishment yet. In other words, this lewd and wicked Elf was still not satisfied.
What more does she want here...! My face, feigning composure, trembled against my will. This silence, this stillness—it terrified me. What would have felt peaceful at any other time now twisted into a hellscape because of the Elf crawling beside me. My instincts were screaming a warning. If I just shoved her into her room without doing anything, I might end up dead.
"Hiiing... My knees huuurt..."
I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to ignore the Elf's childish whimpering. Let's think back. There had to be a reason for this behavior. No smoke without fire. The key was figuring out what she wanted from me...?
No way.
I gasped and opened my eyes. I'd suddenly grasped why the Elf was acting this way.
—After the naked walk, we'll have some sexual torture time.
Looking back, in my desperation to stay alive, I'd blurted out words that definitely included "sexual torture." From the Elf's perspective, the naked walk was just the appetizer—the main course was sexual torture. Now it made sense. Since I, the chef, hadn't served up the dish yet, she was silently protesting...!
You fucking idiot! Rage boiled up at my past complacent self. Sexual torture? As if! I'd never even slept with a woman, let alone tortured one sexually!
...But the water was already spilled. Calm down. To escape this situation, I needed to find a way somehow. It wouldn't be easy, but I could do it. After all, I was born into a prestigious noble family and had mastered countless survival skills. I wouldn't bow to a trial like this.
"You're a real bitch, aren't you?"
Sneering, I stopped in place. The Elf naturally halted her crawl and glanced up at me warily. I cleared my throat and flexed my hands.
"Flip over onto your back. Time to start the sexual torture."
"M-Masterrr..."
"Don't make me say it twice."
I glared down coldly, and the Elf flipped onto her back, assuming a puppy pose. Her breasts and pussy were fully exposed. Yet no lust stirred in me. She was too terrifying for that...
"First."
I lifted my foot and removed my shoe, then peeled off my sock, shoving my bare foot into the Elf's mouth.
"Kiss my foot as a sign of complete submission."
It was the exact same routine as in the courtyard, but what choice did I have? Nothing else came to mind!
"It's so sweeeaty...!"
But the Elf seemed fine with it, obediently licking my sweat-drenched foot without complaint. Thinking that was enough, I tried to pull away—only to freeze as her tongue slipped freely between my toes. Curious how far she'd go, I let her continue, and soon she was sucking on my toes with wet slurps.
Why the hell is she sucking on them...?
My order had only been for a kiss—why was she going above and beyond? I stood there dumbfounded for a moment before belatedly clearing my throat and withdrawing my foot.
"Ah."
Before the Elf could emit some murderous aura at having her treat yanked away, I swiftly pressed my foot against her pussy. It was slick, soaked with what might have been urine or her arousal.
"You filthy slut. Getting excited from being treated worse than human? You're nothing but a dog cunt."
"Hic... P-Please stop saying that..."
"Stop? Ha! I'll only stop insulting you when you're dead."
Even I thought the words were excessively vicious as I pressed down hard on her pussy.
"Hnguuut...!"
The Elf stuck out her tongue and shuddered. Seeing her erotic pose filled me with a thrill—not sadism, but the ecstasy of survival.
I'm doing great!
This way, I could get through the night without issue. Emboldened, I kneaded her pussy firmly while twisting my lips into a sneer.
"When you first came to this mansion, you acted all high and mighty, but you're really just trash worse than a pig!"
"Hnguk, kkhut!"
"Hahaha. How's it feel? Having your life defiled?"
"Huu..."
"Despairing? Want to die? Come on, say something!"
"Mm..."
Huh? Why were her reactions getting weaker?
Did I mess up?
I was pressing her pussy properly and showering her with garbage talk. How could I be more vicious? I couldn't pinpoint what had disappointed her.
"Hm."
Fearfully, I lowered my foot and stroked my chin. First, buy time and observe her expression. I had to find whatever I'd missed.
What the hell is it?
But I couldn't figure it out. Those inorganic eyes just stared blankly—not at my face... Wait. She wasn't looking at me. On closer inspection, she was gazing at the candle behind me.
A dim realization hit, and my inner jaw dropped. Right. From the start, this Elf had wanted candle wax torture!
"Looks like ordinary punishments won't snap you out of it."
Decision made, I turned and grabbed a candlestick from the wall. The flame flickered like a haze atop the wick.
"I'll sear your body with hot wax. That might instill a little awe of me in you."
"N-Nooo...!"
Seeing the Elf flinch in terror brought a relieved smile to my lips. This was the right answer.
"Now, commencing the blistering Elf roast parade—"
I tilted the candlestick but hesitated. The Elf's tearful upward gaze was more poignant than I'd imagined.
"P-Please, Master, pleeease..."
Huh? Was that acting? What if she really hated it? Maybe I'd misunderstood—maybe she didn't want candle wax torture. After all, it was wax. Low-temp wouldn't matter, but regular candle wax was hot enough to burn skin. This wasn't sexual torture; it was just plain torture. No masochist could like this.
Hesitating, I deepened my voice arrogantly for a precise judgment.
"Fine. I'll give you one chance. But on one condition: stop crying and smile at me. You can manage that, right?"
A normal slave couldn't. After beatings and a wax torture preview, smiling would be impossible. But the Elf was different. Much of her body language and expressions were fake—she could smile anytime. So please, just smile. I didn't want to go this far.
"Hnguk, hwaaaang...!"
But she only wailed louder, not even pretending to hold back. No matter how I looked at it, this was a signal begging for the wax.
Damn it.
"You worm. This is on you."
With no choice, I tilted the candlestick. A drop of molten wax hung from the tip before plopping onto her belly.
"Hiyak—!"
The smell of burning flesh. Faint smoke rose as the Elf screamed wildly. Cold sweat beaded on me as I glanced up and down the corridor, terrified the servants might wake to the noise.
...No one?
Fortunately, no signs of life. Clutching my pounding heart, I chanted a warning to the Elf.
"No more screaming. Do it again, and I won't hold back."
"Y-Yes... yes..."
Her voice was thick with moisture, pitiful enough to blur the line between acting and real.
I exhaled deeply and dropped another glob of wax.
"—!"
Each time, the Elf writhed and gritted her teeth. Watching was just as painful for me. Even if it was acting, even if fake—this was undeniably tormenting someone. Unilaterally abusing someone who hadn't done wrong. I had no hobby of deriving pleasure from hurting women. So this act, this chain of violence, relentlessly assaulted the corners of my conscience.
"Tch."
This was my limit. Any more, and I'd lose an important part of my humanity.
"I'm tired. That's enough for tonight."
I tossed the candlestick to the floor. The impact snuffed the flame, blanketing the area in darkness. Using the shadows, I dropped my arrogant facade. Guilt and confusion flooded in where the mask had been. Long breaths finally restored my calm, and I flicked my lips briefly.
"Clean up after yourself."
Straightening my clothes, I turned and walked down the corridor. Feeling eyes on my back, I maintained a composed, dignified gait. The moment I rounded the corner, I bolted like I'd seen a ghost, mouth agape in a silent scream until I reached my room. I slammed the door, locked it, and slumped against it to the floor.
I escaped...!
But it was too soon to relax. I needed to check the Elf's reaction. I tapped the ring on my left index finger, activating the Surveillance Object.
I gulped, waiting for her next words.
S-she survived.
"Haaa..."
A sigh of profound relief escaped me, assured of my survival. I deactivated the Surveillance Object and wiped my face with my hand.
I made it through tonight, but...
Tomorrow, and the day after—could I keep enduring? No. As the head of the esteemed Deharm Viscount family, trusted by the Count himself, I couldn't let this wicked Elf toy with me. I needed a plan. A plan to drive this pointy-eared demon out of my mansion...!
I'll make you regret ever entering my home, Elf!
I ground my teeth and tried to stand, but gave up. My legs had turned to jelly; I couldn't even get up properly.
"Hoo, huum."
For now, I'd sit until my mind settled...