Relieving the Congestion

Flick.

Oh, for God's sake.

The System, with its usual thoughtless timing, had just roused my instincts to life. Three days of continuous combat, the mana overload, and above all the fact that I'd been fighting for ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠my life in the gutters of Rosenheim without a single moment of release — it had all come pouring out at once.

The front of my trousers surged upward with terrifying momentum. There was no hiding that overwhelming presence beneath the thin fabric of a hospital gown. Right beside Elise's fingers, my rigidly erect other self tented the cloth and gave the back of her hand a firm little tap.

"…!"

Elise's hand froze.

What followed was an excruciating silence. The sounds of the field hospital beyond the curtain seemed to drift away into the distance.

Head bowed, Elise stared blankly at the enormous shape that had risen directly in front of her hand.

"…Captain Jaeger."

Her voice trembled slightly.

She was a doctor, after all — she already knew that a male erection didn't stem solely from sexual arousal. She knew it could arise from sympathetic nervous dysfunction, or even spinal injury.

But this — no one looking at it would have mistaken it for anything pathological.

The scorching heat and the throbbing pulse transmitted through the back of her hand. This was unmistakably the primal desire of a man who had found no outlet for it.

"This is… a bit too much to call an abnormal symptom of mana congestion… it's just…"

Status Analysis.

Elise slowly lifted her head and looked at me. The brown eyes that met mine held a mixture of bewilderment, shame, and a peculiar kind of realization.

"…I'm such an idiot, aren't I."

"…"

"You went through all that chaos at Rosenheim — of course things would build up. I suppose I was too focused on your physical injuries."

Her gaze began darting back and forth between the imposing tent at my lower half and my face.

"Your mana circuits are burning out like this, and yet you haven't relieved a single one of your most basic needs…"

She let out a small sigh.

"If we leave this congestion untreated, the recovery of your mana circuits will slow down even further. If the pressure in your lower abdomen rises, the freshly healed mana channels could clog up again."

Her face was flushed crimson. But her eyes alone maintained the composure of a physician, and she reached out and placed her hand on the front of my trousers.

"…Treatment will be necessary. Treatment in the name of discharge."

I felt her fingers press carefully against the tightly swollen fabric.

"Shall I call Sergeant Hanna back in?"

She knew about my relationship with Hanna. Well, it would have been stranger if she didn't, after being stuck in my hospital room that long.

But that wasn't what I wanted.

And she knew that, too.

"Or…"

Elise looked up at me with glistening, dewy eyes and asked,

"…should I personally manage this congestion for you?"

I couldn't quite find a reason to refuse.

There was no bashfulness in her, and no lust either. Only a scholar's curiosity before a rare clinical case, and the mission-driven conviction that a patient must be saved.

Granted, it seemed rather badly twisted.

"I believe I already told you, Captain Elise."

I spoke in a low voice.

"That I'm placing my body entirely in your hands."

"…"

"And if, under your medical judgment, this is a measure absolutely required for my recovery…"

Elise's shoulders trembled almost imperceptibly.

"…then I have no reason to refuse."

"…Very well."

The moment my consent fell, Elise drew a pair of sterile gloves from the medical tray and pulled them on.

"Then, excuse me."

Ssshhk.

Elise's hands ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠drew my hospital trousers all the way down.

"…Hah."

At that moment my monstrously swollen cock sprang free as if bursting from its confines. At the enormous, vein-throbbing spectacle of it, Elise swallowed involuntarily.

"This is… honestly…"

As if entranced, she reached out. The cold latex glove carefully enclosed the burning tip of my glans.

"Nnh…"

The temperature difference sent a jolt of tingling pleasure up my spine, raising goosebumps.

"Does it hurt?"

"No. Please continue. It feels… very good."

"…That's a relief. Then I'll begin the treatment."

She picked up a tube of medical lubricant and applied a generous coating of the cold gel over my shaft.

Squelch, squelch.

At last her hand began to move up and down.

It was nothing like the tender touch of a lover. Her grip was constant, her movements mechanical. As if performing a clinical procedure, she treated my cock strictly as a lesion.

"Is the pressure all right? Your blood flow is so high that squeezing too hard could cause pain."

"You can… grip a little tighter."

"Understood."

Her grip tightened. The wet sound of slick gel filled the quiet hospital room.

Phew…

It wasn't bad. No — the sheer depravity of it made me even harder. The Empire's finest elite military doctor, in her white coat, stroking my cock with her own hand.

Status Analysis.

On the surface she played the cool professional, but inside, she was enjoying it too. Her method was simply confined within the frame of a medical examination.

In that case — perhaps I should crack that frame just a little.

Touch of Attunement.

Pretending to clutch the bedsheet, I sent a thread of subtle pleasure crawling up along her wrist.

[Heightens the target's senses and induces a faint, rising pleasure.]

"Ah…?"

Elise's hand faltered. Her brow furrowed as if she'd felt something strange.

"Captain, just now… that was…"

"What seems to be the matter?"

I feigned innocence.

"No, it's just… suddenly, it feels like electricity is running up through my fingertips…"

"I can't say I know. It's probably nothing."

"…I suppose you're right."

She echoed my words back, though her eyes brimmed with suspicion. And then, unable to help herself, she began exhaling slightly ragged breaths.

Squelch, squelch, squelch.

Her strokes quickened. Heat gradually bled into what had been purely ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠mechanical movement.

"Hah… hah…"

Gripping my cock tighter, she unconsciously twisted her hips.

"Your blood flow is… increasing even more. It'll be… reaching its limit soon."

"Is that so. Then… please, go ahead."

"Yes, I'll… induce the discharge."

With her other hand, she rubbed the tip of my glans.

"Ugh…!"

The sensation of release came boiling up from the base of my spine — the entire mass of desire I'd been hoarding since the day I was thrown into Rosenheim.

"It's coming."

"Don't hold back. Pour out… all of it."

Elise didn't flinch away. On the contrary, as if verifying a lab result, she stared intently at my urethral opening while working her hand even faster.

Spurt! Spuuuuurt—!

"…!"

With each convulsion, semen erupted out of me like a waterfall.

It was an enormous quantity.

Splurt, splat, splurt.

Cloudy white fluid splashed across Elise's white coat, across her chin, across her collarbone.

"Ah…"

Elise squeezed her eyes shut, then opened them again. A droplet of semen clinging to her eyelashes slid down her cheek.

And the ejaculation was far from over.

Spurt, spuuurt!

"Good heavens… you're still…?"

My cock kept throbbing in her hand, spewing semen without pause. Her latex glove was already slick and dripping with it, and the bedsheets were soaking through.

"Hah, hah…"

Only after a long while did the ejaculation finally cease. A wave of exhaustion washed over me, and I leaned my head back against the headboard.

The room thrummed with the mingled scents of briny night-flowers and antiseptic.

Elise stared blankly down at her hand and her coat. The thin fabric of her front was so drenched in my semen that her skin showed through it.

"…An unbelievable volume."

She swept a gloved finger across the semen staining her coat. The sticky fluid stretched in long strands between her fingers.

"It would be… rather a waste to simply throw away."

She fished out a petri dish and began carefully scraping the semen from her coat and her hand into it.

"…What exactly are you doing right now?"

When I asked, utterly dumbfounded, she answered with perfect composure.

"Collecting a sample for detailed analysis. If I'm to monitor the Captain's health, a fluid analysis is absolutely essential."

"…Hah."

Excuses, excuses.

Once the sample was collected, Elise cleaned me up with wet wipes. Her hands were skilled and thorough — every inch the professional.

"Thank you for your hard work, Captain. The congestion has been… completely relieved."

She peeled off her gloves and dropped them into the medical waste bin, then buttoned her coat back up.

"Treatment is concluded."

The day of my discharge came soon after.

The moment I stepped outside the temporary field hospital, a cold winter wind whipped into me.

But hotter still were the eyes of the soldiers.

"Huh? He — he's out!"

"It's Captain Jaeger!"

Every soldier gathered in front of the hospital whipped their heads toward me at once. And it wasn't just the men of 2nd Company — but 2nd Battalion, 3rd Battalion, the engineers, even the stragglers from other units scattered among them.

"Present arms for Captain Jaeger!"

Snap—!

No one had ordered it, yet hundreds of soldiers snapped to attention and saluted in perfect unison.

"SIR, YES, SIR!!!"

The thunderous roar echoed through the ruined city.

But the moment didn't last long.

Vroom—!

Cutting through the soldiers' cheers came the heavy growl of a massive engine.

The crowd of hundreds gathered at the entrance parted like the Red Sea. And gliding through the gap came a single sleek, high-end vehicle in gleaming black paint.