Demonstrating True Male Prowess
To show her what a real male was like, I dove back into the dream and pinned Rasca down on the bed, resuming her conditioning.
"Kuh… You half-assed bastard. You're not manly at all."
"What do you mean, not manly?"
"Sh-shut the fuck up! You know damn well what I mean!"
It was true—I didn't look very masculine. Even I thought so.
"Just looking at you, it's impossible to tell if you're a female or a male. You've got such a pretty face, but then you have a dick attached—it's all mismatched."
"You're right. I sometimes look in the mirror and get startled myself."
"A-and what about that hair? A male letting it grow long like that looks fucking ugly!"
My pretty face came from the hair. If I didn't tie it up, it hung down to my waist.
I'd tried cutting it because the long hair was annoying, but it grew back almost immediately.
So, as much as it bugged me, I had no choice but to let it grow. Maybe once my rank went up, I'd be able to control even the finer details of my body? The Incubus King resolved to absorb essence quickly and grow stronger.
"You think I look ugly? Hmph…."
"Yeah! They say a person's behavior comes from their appearance! Your ugly looks make you act like such an ugly creep."
She was mumbling words she'd heard from her kind, wise, and intelligent mother as a child, pretending it made her philosophical and smart.
She smirked a little. An unpleasant memory surfaced of looking like one of those babbling vampires, but what made her happier was the satisfaction of her intellectual vanity.
"Talking tough like that does you no good…. When I poke your pussy with my finger, you pant like a bitch in heat. Isn't there way too much contradiction in what you're saying?"
"C-contradiction? Stop with the fancy bullshit!"
"Exactly. No matter how smart a dog's brain gets, how smart can it really be?"
That damn dog thing…. Rasca swore in her heart to make him pay dearly for insulting a proud Werewolf, then spoke up.
"You imp fuck! I'm a Werewolf! Not a dog, you hear? A wolf! Wolf!"
"Wolf or dog, same difference. You know that? The genetic difference between a Maltese and a gray wolf is only 0.04%."
"How would you like it if I called you a bat?"
A bat? The only similarity was wings, and even the texture and role were different. We just looked vaguely alike on the outside.
"That's the best comeback you could come up with?"
"Y-you unmanly bastard. You should've been born a bitch!"
In the end, all she could muster was primitive insults. Insulting someone creatively required intelligence, after all.
She was one of the smarter Werewolves, but as a beastkin, her intellect wasn't that high….
"Die! I said die, you pussy-ass bitch!"
"You've been going on about 'bitch' and 'pussy'…. So what's this attached to me, then?"
Sluuurp.
I proudly revealed my mighty cock. The enormous 20cm slab of meat instantly blew the mind of the chosen Werewolf gang leader.
"Ah…."
The moment she saw the massive dick, Rasca could no longer mock me or call me a bitch.
What were ways to show masculinity?
Flexing muscles? Or defeating a strong enemy…?
Rasca realized those were nothing compared to true male dignity.
A real male has to have a dick that huge….
Since ancient times, a great male needed a cock this big and thick.
Strong? Who cares about that.
Wealthy? Money doesn't mean you fuck well.
Powerful? If your dick's small, you're useless anyway.
"Hah."
She shook her head vigorously, barely shaking off the lewd fantasies that had flooded her mind.
Unbeknownst to herself, Rasca had imagined all sorts of scenarios premised on that dick plunging into her.
Humiliating. She'd never felt anything like this before. Since when had this started? For the past few days, every time she dreamed, she ended up submitting helplessly.
"Why'd you suddenly go quiet? You were snapping back so viciously just a second ago."
"Watch your fucking mouth, you bastard…. Or I'll kill you."
"Says the girl whose eyes are darting all over the place? I can hear your pupils spinning from here."
"U-ugh!"
Rasca didn't give up and yelled with her mouth wide open.
"If you're gonna do it, do it already! Who the fuck do you think you're toying with!? I won't forgive you!"
"Forgive or not, I'm not fucking you."
"….Fuck me!"
"Wrong wording. Shouldn't it be 'please fuck me'?"
It was almost a demand. No one had ever been able to demand anything from her! Rasca ground her teeth.
"You'd better pull that out before I bite it off and turn it into ground meat."
"Your pride is disgustingly huge. Just be honest, and I'll give you what you want. Pathetic."
"Sh-shut the fuck up! How many times do I have to tell you! You sly cat bastard!"
Her conditioning wasn't complete yet. Losing interest, I tucked my cock back into my pants.
"Ah…."
"Your attitude still needs fixing."
"Just do it!"
"Why should I?"
Now she was practically barking orders. Of course, my cock never went in.
But judging by her attitude, next time I might get her to suck it.
That next time would be tomorrow, of course. I'd make her take it in her mouth and leash her firmly around the neck.
Street vending seemed great since you didn't have to pay taxes. Normally, this kind of thing would get busted by cops.
Rasca had handled that part.
"Selling sandwiches in our district is fine. Those cops don't come around here anyway."
"I see."
Apparently, the police didn't enter the Werewolf District. Curious, I asked why, and got a hilarious reason.
"Most cops are Dark Elves. Their sense of smell is super developed, so they hate our scent."
In Terranium, where all sorts of races lived, there were two kinds of elves.
First, High Elves who handled environmental activism or business.
Second, Dark Elves who took frontline civil servant jobs like police, firefighters, or soldiers.
Apparently, the two races looked the same except for skin color. Rumor had it their ancestors' living environments diverged and caused the split.
"All the races in Terranium are like that…. Seems like roles are divided by species."
"Not everyone, but Dark Elves have a culture of following rules. Anyway, those flat-chested bitches…."
"Hm?"
"Why are you asking about them anyway? You into Dark Elves or something?"
Rasca practically growled. It was like watching someone pet another dog in front of a golden retriever.
Why's she like this? This reaction usually came from jealousy, right?
"Not particularly interested. Elves are all vegetarians, aren't they?"
"Only High Elves. Dark Elves are nomads, so they eat a lot of cheese and sausages."
"Then maybe I could do sandwich business there later."
At those words, Rasca's eyes narrowed even more viciously. She was baring her fangs—she was seriously pissed.
"…Of course, no plans to do it right now. I'll hire more staff first."
"Hire our guys? They're strong and pretty smart. They just don't study."
"Do Werewolves not do studying?"
I'd asked casually, but Rasca's reaction was dramatic.
"We don't study much. People misunderstand us as beasts! Intelligence differences between races are negligible unless you're dragons or elves. There's even research saying we're smarter than imps!"
True, dogs had pretty high intelligence among mammals. A Border Collie could understand human speech to some extent.
"Don't go around saying weird shit. Got it?"
"Ahem."
Seems like calling her dumb really got under her skin. Maybe because I'd been ragging on her intelligence nonstop in the dreams.
Then I'll have to rag on her even harder.
It was a fact she was dumb, after all. Did she know how I felt? Even if she did, she couldn't get mad at me. She was already half-leashed. And someday, I'd put a real collar around that white, slender neck. It'd be a sight for my eyes only.