Theorad Who Wants to Live (2)
"S-sex torture...?"
Watching the Elf feign ignorance despite knowing full well what it meant stirred a surge of exasperation in me, but I couldn't let myself get drawn in. I lowered my gaze with a dignified air.
"That's right. Just as you said, I'm here to administer your punishment. Have you only now grown afraid?"
"N-no, Master..."
"Hmph. Then shut your mouth and listen carefully to what I say."
I flashed her a contemptuous smile, then turned my back to her and walked toward the window behind the desk. It wasn't for any particular reason—just that the facial acting was wearing on my muscles, and I wanted a moment to relax them.
"Even after all the lecturing I gave you last night, you still haven't come to your senses."
But my voice remained as stern as possible. I was diligently playing the role of the cold-blooded psychopath the Elf craved.
"So I've decided on a letter. Since words alone aren't getting through to you, I thought I'd write you one."
All this lengthy explanation was to obtain the Elf's tacit approval. If I dove straight into the sex torture without warning and she reacted with something like 'Eh, this isn't my thing,' I'd be in real trouble. By previewing the 'product' for the customer—the Elf—I was giving her the chance to choose. If she showed any displeasure after hearing me out, I could pivot the script immediately. Even I had to admit it was a clever move.
"But I figured a worm like you who can't grasp the point wouldn't understand my intent from a letter on paper. So I decided to take measures to ensure you never forget it."
"M-measures, Master...?"
"By carving the words directly into your body. For a dim-witted lump of flesh like you to receive my handwriting etched into it—surely that's a great mercy. Isn't it?"
The product description was complete. Now it was time to gauge the customer's reaction. I took a deep breath to steady myself, then turned to face the Elf.
The result...
"That's so mean, Masterrr...!"
A resounding success! Suppressing a mental cheer, I pulled out the chair in front of the desk and sat down.
"Whether it's too much or not is for me to decide, not you. You're annoying me—stop your whining and clear the items off the desk onto the floor."
"Master, please forgive me just this once..."
"Now!"
I snapped irritably, and the Elf flinched, her shoulders trembling as she shuffled toward the desk.
"S-sorry for talking back..."
Mumbling dejectedly, she began removing the books and ornaments from the desk one by one, setting them on the floor. In the meantime, I lit the candle on the desk, placed the melting spoon over it, added a few beads of sealing wax on top, and trimmed the quill's tip. The ink was plentiful. With all preparations complete, I cleared my throat and tapped the desk's flat surface.
"That's enough. Now get on the desk and lie down."
"M-Master?"
"Hah. How many times do I have to say it? I command, and you obey. Don't question or hesitate."
"Y-yes, Master..."
Her whimpering reply carried a faint undercurrent of delight. At my chin gesture urging her on, the Elf hoisted herself onto the desk with her hips and lay back. Whether from genuine embarrassment or just the act, her face flushed as she covered her breasts with her hands.
I was just as embarrassed. How could anyone stay composed with a naked woman sprawled on his desk? But right now, I was the cold-blooded psychopath. Hypnotizing myself repeatedly, I stood, picked up the melting spoon.
The bead sealing wax I'd placed in it had melted into liquid form.
"Are you embarrassed?"
I gazed down at her coldly and murmured. The Elf averted her eyes and gave a small nod.
"A little..."
"If you're embarrassed, then I'll make sure you're not. I'll dress you, so move your hands."
"...Master?"
"I told you not to question me."
At my threatening tone, she reluctantly lowered her hands. The breasts that emerged were even more stunning than I'd imagined.
...I've never seen them this close before.
Perfectly sized and enticing, they yielded softly to gravity in a way that felt lewd regardless of the situation. Their shape prevented them from spreading too much, which only amplified it. And they weren't artificially perky either. I'd heard modern magical technology allowed for decent breast enhancements, but these were unmistakably natural...
Not the time to dwell on that. Shaking off the distraction, I slowly tilted the melting spoon.
"Grit your teeth. It'll be hot."
The sealing wax dripped from the spoon like molten cheese mixed with water, landing on her pink nipple and spreading. The startled Elf arched her back, her breasts jiggling once.
"Haah! Ngh...!"
It must have been hot; she bit her lip hard, her shoulders twitching. Her clenched fists brimmed with the will to endure.
Does she really like this?
Her reaction was so intense that forbidden doubts crept in again. But they passed quickly, and my actions didn't. I poured wax on her other breast too, then set the spoon back over the candle. Casually adding more beads, I checked her face. Flushed and breathing raggedly.
"Heh... haah..."
Good. Unlike dripping candle wax, pouring it all at once seemed more to her taste. For me, though, I hated it. There was a faint burning smell too. But I couldn't show it. I snorted and picked up the quill.
"A fitting outfit even for a wretch not worth clothing. Don't you think?"
"Y-yes... For a filthy sow like me, even this is too much..."
Her dreamy, dazed tone gave me full confidence. This was working! With the flow secured, I just needed to roll out my preparations slowly. She'd leave satisfied on her own.
Perfect!
Praising my own wit, I dipped the quill in ink and raised it. Now, write an apt phrase on her stomach, pour more wax, stamp the family seal, and the humiliation was complete.
Right. An apt phrase...
But what the hell do I write?
The writing on her belly was the highlight of this sex torture. Back in her room, she'd check the mirror to see what degrading words I'd inscribed—that was the finale. Even I thought it was a solid idea. But generic phrases wouldn't satisfy this pervert Elf.
I need something cruder, more cringe-worthy.
The problem? I couldn't come up with it. My boring life, devoted solely to Esilly without chasing skirts, left me bereft of inspiration. But I wasn't without a plan.
Didn't the repository of depravity—Lewd Hobgoblin Maid—exist for those without experience to borrow from the experienced? I'd read that book once. Out of youthful curiosity, only to nearly puke. There had to be usable lines in there.
Hand on her belly, I sifted through old memories.
—Have you ever seen elephant balls? No? Good. From now on, what you're seeing is elephant balls. Now, open your eyes wide and behold your master's balls!
Why was there dialogue like that? No good. I shook my head.
—Romance has vanished from the world. In this era where love is bought with money, true love is just an illusion. But hobgoblin! Remember this: the moment you couple with me, I'll love you more than anyone in the world!
How did I even get through reading that? Anyway, no.
—Time to kiss the sleeping princess's womb with the prince's glans. And awaken your lust. It might hurt a bit, so bear with it.
What bullshit! Dad, why the hell did you buy a limited hardcover of this crap?
Outrage bubbled up, but I couldn't show it. The Elf seemed to have caught her breath and was watching me. For now, I'd patchwork those lines into a humiliating phrase. Rearranging words in my head, I gripped the quill and drew the first stroke.
"Hngh."
The Elf twitched, ticklish, and the stroke went awry. I sighed lowly and glared at her naturally.
"Hold your breath. You going to make the paper move?"
"S-sorry..."
Tsk. Clicking my tongue, I lowered my gaze and began writing on her belly. Patching usable words from the lines, it formed a decent humiliating sentence. Finish it, stamp the seal, send her off.
But my nose had been prickling for a while. From the smoke when I poured the hot wax? Or dust in the unventilated office? Something sour lingered, irritating. I suppressed an urge to cough.
Better to finish the sentence first—
"Achoo!"
The sneeze burst out against my will. My shoulders jerked, pressing the quill down hard.
Damn it.
Panicking briefly, I regained composure. Even out of character, one sneeze—she'd overlook it generously.
Yeah. Finish the sentence and send her off. I wiped my mouth with my other hand, looked down, and froze in unexpected shock.
Wh-what...?
The sneeze had pressed the quill's tip into her skin. Not deep—just a bit. No blood, probably. Swallowing hard, I slowly lifted it.
Drip—
Incredibly, a drop of blood welled up. Just one line, but utterly unforeseen.
I'm screwed.
Cold sweat poured. Would the Elf like her body damaged? Other acts, maybe, but this drew blood. By accident, not intent. Still, who knows? She might like it. Suppressing fear, I turned to her.
She was staring right back, as expected.
"..."
But her sharp gaze held no goodwill toward me whatsoever.