Chapter 18
Chapter 18
Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 18
Chapter Title: Upper Mouth, Lower Mouth
Arrows rained down from the sky like a monsoon, while magic raged like a storm on winds laced with the stench of death across the battlefield.
In the midst of that hell, there was one lunatic charging straight into the enemy lines armed with nothing but a single sword.
It was Zeke.
Unable to bear the guilt of having gotten drunk and raped his master, he had fled to the battlefield. He pushed his body to the brink like a man determined to die, unleashing frenzied violence on the enemy as if he had been born solely to slaughter them.
And of course, he sustained injuries in the process.
Slashed by swords.
Stabbed by spears.
Pierced by arrows.
Swept up in magic blasts.
He repeated this cycle endlessly.
By the end of each battle, his body was reduced to tatters, like a ragged scrap of cloth.
Yet he dragged that battered form into the next fight.
Those around him urged him to rest, but he ignored them, ruining his body even further.
Only then could he escape his guilt.
Whenever he closed his eyes, the face of the woman he loved floated into his mind.
To forget her, Zeke chose pain.
A crude method of drowning mental anguish in physical torment.
Crude, but incredibly effective.
On the battlefield, he thought only of combat. When he returned, exhaustion dropped him like a stone.
He opened his eyes and headed back to the battlefield, thinking only of combat before collapsing again from exhaustion upon return.
He repeated this for eight years.
Even trying to look back on it as a fond memory, those were no joyful times.
Of course not.
They weren't meant to be joyful.
They were years of self-inflicted punishment.
But just moments ago, hearing Freya's words, he realized those years had all been meaningless.
Punishment is for those who have done wrong, but Zeke hadn't actually committed any sin.
Sure, finishing with a woman and then abandoning her in bed to flee alone could be called a mistake, but it wasn't something worth wasting years on the battlefield as a cripple.
The source of the guilt weighing on Zeke's heart—raping his master.
But it hadn't been rape at all.
It had been consensual sex.
And apparently, Freya had been the one to seduce him first.
In other words, he hadn't taken advantage of his master.
The chains of guilt and sin that had strangled his heart for so long finally snapped free.
What remained was an empty void in his chest.
And that void filled with a single emotion.
Lust.
He had suppressed it relentlessly.
When he saw his master's exquisite naked body.
When he rubbed his cock against her ass.
When she gripped his cock and stroked it with her hand.
He thought he was going mad trying to extinguish the raging fire of desire.
He interpreted every act in the best possible light.
She's testing me.
There's meaning behind it all.
That's what he told himself.
But it had all been a massive delusion.
Freya's actions had been the depraved seduction of a master tempting her disciple.
She, who had preached morality by comparing master-disciple bonds to parent-child ones, was trying harder than anyone to turn theirs into a man-woman relationship.
Even wiggling her ass like a female beast in heat to lure her male.
The gap between her noble demeanor and those lewd intentions ignited his lust.
Zeke unbuckled his belt.
To hear his master's true feelings, he pulled out his rigid, elongated cock.
"Suck it, Master."
He gripped his cock like a sword and pointed it at Freya.
"Eh...?"
Freya, whose face looked ready to spill tears at the slightest touch, gaped in shock, her expression turning blank.
"If you really feel sorry for what you did to me, suck my cock."
"Y-You want me to... suck that...?"
Her moist pink eyes shook violently.
"You're the one who made me mad, so you have to soothe me, Master."
"How vulgar... what...!"
"Like master, like disciple, right?"
Even in this situation, Freya strained to maintain her dignity, glaring with fierce eyes.
"What do you mean by that?"
Zeke pointed to the red carpet laid out in the center of the study.
One section of the crimson carpet was stained black.
The face of the culprit who made that stain flushed red.
"You've always said the study is a sacred place for magical research, Master. Do you have any idea how vulgar it was to see you, moaning your disciple's name so desperately while pleasuring yourself in such a holy space?"
Freya hunched her shoulders.
Her ears, peeking through her pink hair, were bright red.
"So, wouldn't a disciple raised by such a master be just as vulgar?"
Unable to muster any excuse, Freya made a pouty face.
When the Witch of Sorrow wore a melancholic expression, Zeke used to feel down too.
But now, seeing her pout, he found it endearing.
Cute.
Adorable.
Though he had surpassed her in height, his master had always seemed so grand. Now, she felt tiny.
"This is my mercy as your disciple."
"...Mercy?"
"You're the one who told me not to leave. I'm giving you a chance to hold me back. If you really want to keep me, suck my cock, Master."
Freya's breathing grew ragged.
Her chest heaved rapidly.
Desperation to cling to departing happiness clashed with the moral guilt of committing a taboo between master and disciple.
She had imagined putting Zeke's cock in her mouth once or twice.
She had learned from books that it was natural for a woman to lovingly pleasure her beloved man's cock with her mouth.
If they broke the forbidden master-disciple bond and became lovers, a day would come when she took his cock in her mouth.
She had spent some nights lost in such vulgar yet happy fantasies, accompanied by liquor.
But now that the moment was here, the timidity buried deep in her soul made her hesitate.
"I understand your intentions, Master."
Zeke tucked his cock back into his pants.
"W-Wait...!"
Just as he was about to refasten his belt, Freya cried out desperately.
"...With my mouth, right?"
After agonizing, Freya chose desperation to hold onto her vanishing happiness.
The loneliness of being left alone when happiness slipped away.
Days spent drowning in sorrow, shedding tears, gazing at memories lingering throughout the mansion, tormented by longing.
She lacked the confidence to endure that hollow time again.
"Upper mouth or lower mouth, either works."
He tossed out the crude innuendo.
His years as a mercenary had roughened his tongue.
He had shown his master respect until now, but in this moment, it seemed fine to drop the pretense.
"...Lower mouth?"
He expected her cheeks to flush in flustered confusion, but Freya tilted her head as if hearing the term for the first time.
A mouth was a mouth—upper or lower?
Not the reaction he anticipated, but watching her innocently cock her head ignited a destructive pleasure, like soiling something pure.
The desire to defile the pristine thrilled Zeke.
"Master, a woman has two holes that can take a man's cock."
Precisely, one above and two below, making three insertion points in total for a woman.
He decided to teach her about the rear one later.
He looked forward to her embarrassed reaction then.
"Two?"
But again, Freya responded unexpectedly.
"Not three?"
Her face turned scholarly as she listed the three forms of intercourse she knew.
Oral sex.
Vaginal sex.
Anal sex.
She wasn't uninterested in sex; she simply lacked knowledge? No, she had common-sense understanding of it.
So Zeke, trying to lecture her that there were only two holes, just seemed cute to her.
"Even as an adult, you have such an innocent side?"
Freya covered her mouth and chuckled softly.
"No...!"
Zeke's face burned hot.
He had assumed she wouldn't know, but she did.
The tense, erotic atmosphere he had so carefully built crumbled in an instant.
"I know there are three too!"
Embarrassed, Zeke raised his voice.
"Oh? Then tell me."
"Fine."
Zeke leaned in close to Freya's ear and whispered huskily.
"Your mouth, Master."
"W-Wait... you're too close...!"
"Your pussy, Master."
Freya shuddered at the tickling breath on her ear.
"Eek!"
As she tried to pull away, Zeke's arm wrapped around her waist, holding her fast.
"And we can do it in your asshole, Master."
"Wh-Wh-What...?"
Freya panicked at the crude word choice.
"Th-That's so lowbrow...!"
Seeing her fluster, Zeke flashed a playful grin.
He had landed a solid hit.
"What's lowbrow about it?"
"There are... more refined ways... to say it..."
Freya mumbled, head bowed.
Witches had the exact same anatomy as humans, so spreading a witch's cheeks revealed a pink, chrysanthemum-like hole in between.
Unlike humans, though, witches didn't use toilets, so they didn't view the anus as a dirty, filthy hole.
Still, calling it an "asshole" vulgarly was embarrassing and shameful. Referring to her own that way made her face heat up.
It was a word too crude to utter easily, especially for a woman of refined sensibilities.
"What's wrong with asshole? Are you saying your asshole is lowbrow right now, Master?"
"What kind of nonsense is that...!"
Freya let out a shrill squeak.
"Then your asshole isn't lowbrow—it's a premium asshole."
Freya's face turned beet red, as if it might explode.
"I'm not talking about my anus...! I'm talking about the word itself...!"
He knew.
He was just teasing Freya.
Satisfied with the teasing, Zeke decided to stop there.
"My mistake."
"You did that on purpose."
Zeke smiled innocently, pretending not to hear.
"Let's end this tangent and get back to the point."
"Zeke... before that, could you let go of my waist?"
Freya was still held against Zeke, his arm around her waist.
She wanted to stay like this longer.
But she had to pull away.
This was a moment to apologize and atone to her disciple, yet here she was, this foolish master, heart pounding with selfish desire. Stay too close, and he'd hear her heartbeat.
Truth be told, she had wanted to take Zeke's cock in her mouth for a long time.
Because she loved him.
Because pleasuring a loved one's cock with her mouth was a woman's expression of affection.
The shackles—or rather, the illusion—of their master-disciple bond kept her from rejoicing freely, but deep inside, the female beast in Freya thrilled at the chance to devote herself to her beloved male.
"Of course."
Zeke's firm arm released her waist.
...Regrettable.
As she felt that pang of regret, Zeke spoke.
"Explaining upper and lower mouth is simple. It refers to the mouth on a woman's body above and the one below. Two holes that can swallow a man's cock—three, to be precise."
"Ah...!"
Freya finally grasped the meaning.
She realized what "lower mouth" alluded to.
The instant she did, chaos erupted within her.
"Wh-Wh-What...!"
The lingering constraints of their master-disciple relationship flustered her.
"We're master and disciple. Using the lower mouth between us would be... like incest!"
Her words said one thing, but instinct craved the man; her lower abdomen clenched, pressing against her womb.
"The choice is yours, Master. Upper mouth? Or lower mouth?"
Zeke pulled out his cock again.
"Isn't it obvious...!"
Obviously the latter.
"...I'll use my upper mouth."
In her heart, it was the former.