Sex Is Over Now
Shangri-La. A secret club that carried a calm, intellectual name meaning “peaceful valley.” On the surface it was an exclusive social salon where the nobles of the Imperial Capital—the very heart of imperial culture—gathered to share their refined aesthetic senses and erudite knowledge. But that was merely a gilded mask. In truth, Shangri-La existed to satisfy every twisted fetish the aristocracy could imagine.
Human courtesans and gigolos of every skin tone were on offer, along with wild beastkin, elves who embodied beauty itself, dwarves and gnomes for those with more peculiar tastes. Private VIP rooms were also provided for nobles who wished to sever their connection to the outside world for a time and indulge in pleasures meant only for themselves.
And in one of those very VIP rooms, two couples were enjoying an intimate gathering.
The chamber was bathed in red lighting that quietly stoked the hidden excitement in one’s heart. Instead of music, the lewd, wet sounds born of sexual ecstasy echoed through the air—the unmistakable symphony of men and women mingling their bodies.
“Haaaang♡ Count Rofeng, it’s so much bigger and harder than usual♡ I’ve never felt anything like this before!”
A middle-aged woman lay on her side atop the luxurious bed, legs spread in a wide Y-shape, moaning shamelessly. Behind her, where her enormous breasts glistened with the threat of spilling sweat, Count Rofeng was driving his cock into her.
His face was a web of wrinkles and his hair had gone white at the tips. For a man who looked well past seventy, his movements were startlingly vigorous. Squelch. Squelch. Squelch.
Though it could not compare to Arwen’s, Rofeng’s above-average member still produced obscene, sticky sounds every time it plunged in and out of the noblewoman’s well-used pussy.
Pressing his hips firmly against her back, Rofeng spoke.
“It isn’t that my cock is any different. Aren’t you simply more aroused by the fact that you’re being fucked in front of your husband, Martel?”
Just as he said, on the opposite bed Martel’s husband was already in position. And of course the man was vigorously thrusting into the woman Rofeng had provided.
Martel, watching her own husband ravish another woman, turned her gaze away and whimpered.
“Aang♡ I-I don’t know. Please, I beg you—don’t say such shameful things in front of him.”
“Playing the chaste wife at this stage? Then this shameless woman needs to be punished.”
Rofeng wrapped his bony arms around Martel’s throat from behind and began to squeeze.
“Urk… F-forgive me…”
Her face flushed crimson like an overinflated red balloon.
“Haha, the instant I choke you, your cunt tightens. You really are a depraved little thing, Martel.”
“Huuu♡ Hic!”
Even as Martel moaned in mingled pain and pleasure, her husband never spared her so much as a worried glance. He remained utterly focused on the young woman beneath him, indifferent to his wife’s cries.
“I feel like changing positions. Get on your stomach, Martel.”
Rofeng released her throat.
“Cough, cough… Y-yes, understood.”
Free of his grip, Martel obediently rearranged herself without a word of complaint. When she raised her hips and pressed her chest to the bed, the love juices that had been trapped inside her dripped steadily onto the sheets.
Rofeng gave her plump ass a loud slap.
“No matter how many times I taste it, Martel’s cunt never grows boring. Hard to believe this hole has pushed out three children.”
“Th-thank you…”
Her neck still bore vivid red marks from his fingers.
“Good. Then shall we begin again?”
Grasping her hips with both hands, Rofeng drove his cock back into her. He had already cum inside her more than five times, yet his erection showed no sign of softening.
“Haaaang♡ Count Rofeng’s cock… it’s hammering my womb♡ The new angle, the different position—Martel is cumming from penetration alone!”
Rofeng gazed down at her with open satisfaction.
“At this rate I may truly impregnate you today, Martel. That wouldn’t bother you, would it, Baxter?”
The man named Baxter, who had been greedily sucking the breasts of the woman beneath him, jerked his head up. Not from fear that his wife might fall pregnant to another man—he simply answered his master’s call like an obedient dog.
Folding his triple chin, Baxter nodded.
“Of course, Count Rofeng. Do exactly as you please. I’m sure Martel would be delighted to bear your child.”
“Is that so, Martel?”
Any last trace of chastity had long since been fucked out of her. Panting, Martel answered while still impaled on his cock.
“Yes! I’ll give birth to Count Rofeng’s baby—haaaang♡ Please knock me up with your fourth child right in front of my husband♡”
“What a perfectly matched couple. Then I shall exert myself to meet your expectations.”
True to his word, Rofeng pounded Martel with the fervor of a man determined to impregnate her. When the feverish heat of lust finally cooled, Baxter left his twitching wife on the bed and scurried over to Rofeng.
“You are magnificent, Count. How is it that you only grow more virile with age?”
“Hehe, not at all.”
“No, no. I’ve never seen Martel climax so hard. Hehe.”
The obese merchant showed no shame whatsoever in bowing his head to the man who had just fucked his wife.
“Hahaha, it’s all thanks to steady maintenance. You seem to have lost some weight yourself while enjoying my concubine Elise, Baxter.”
“Oh no, not at all, hehe.”
Baxter rubbed his fat hands together, suddenly nervous.
“Um… I apologize for bringing this up so abruptly, but regarding the dispute with the Schultz Company I mentioned last time…”
Rofeng, pulling on his shirt, waved a hand dismissively.
“Don’t worry. I’ve already spoken to all the relevant officials.”
“Th-thank you, Count!”
Baxter bowed deeply, but Rofeng’s eyes were not on the merchant.
This stuff is the real thing.
His wrinkled gaze remained fixed on the now-empty little potion bottle. A stamina tonic handed to him by a Shangri-La employee. He had been skeptical of the clerk’s boast that it would make him feel reborn, yet the effect had been astonishing. The tonic already popular in the capital was impressive, but it could not compare to Viagrak.
According to the rumors, genuine sales would begin next week. Rofeng could hardly wait.
With this, I could enjoy women until the day before I die. Hehe.
He smiled in satisfaction, remembering Martel’s cries. Yet he was far from the only noble in the capital thinking such thoughts. Countless aristocrats who had sampled Viagrak at Shangri-La and heard the spreading rumors shared the exact same fantasy.
At that moment, Count Rofeng could not have known that the Viagrak he had been lucky enough to drink today would be the very last he would ever obtain in his lifetime.
Stats have increased.
Strength: 14 → 15
Monday, the day that promised a refreshing start to the week. The cloudless sky seemed to bless the new students beginning their academy lives in earnest, yet my mood felt anything but blessed.
“Goddamn it, my muscles. I really hope I didn’t tear anything.”
Every muscle in my body except my cock throbbed as though an earthquake raged beneath my skin. The current pain was bad enough, but the thought of the muscle agony that would greet me like the grim reaper tomorrow morning made my vision darken.
“And I have to do this twice a week until the semester ends?”
The burning pain in my calves with every step brought back vivid memories of Professor Helena’s swordsmanship class two hours earlier.
In one of the academy’s many training grounds, Helena stood with her hands on her hips in a commanding pose and began her lecture.
“One of the most important aspects of swinging a sword is infusing it with mana.”
Given her background as a legendary adventurer, many students watched her with open reverence. Helena continued in the confident tone of a seasoned veteran.
“Powerful magical beasts usually coat their outer hides with mana—much like a knight’s armor. Therefore, mana must be answered with mana.”
True to her NPC nature, the explanation was long-winded, but it boiled down to one thing: use skills on your enemies.
Helena pointed at a wooden training dummy in the center of the field with her scarred hand.
“This special doll is protected by a mana shield. Come forward one at a time and swing your swords freely. First up—Yosef!”
“Y-yes!”
One-on-one instruction began with the nervous Yosef. Helena guided each student with passionate intensity until my turn finally arrived.
“Next—Arwen!”
Her booming voice rolled across the training ground. A ripple of murmurs spread among the freshmen like wind through a reed bed.
“That’s Arwen of the Reinhardt family… Isn’t he too skinny?”
“Idiot. True powerhouses don’t care about appearances.”
“I wonder if he’s as strong as Lady Sophia?”
A rugged, muscular man and several women watched me with sparkling eyes. The pressure was enormous.
Strength stat: a pathetic 14 points. Swordsmanship skill: zero. Still, I refused to flail around like a cheap storefront dummy and become a laughingstock.
Damn it, Masha, lend me strength!
Praying to the owner of the love juices I had drunk beforehand, I approached the wooden dummy. Then, using the plain training sword provided by the academy, I activated the swordsmanship skills granted by the Semen Ingestor trait—basic moves such as Sword Slash and Sword Strike.
A short while later, my body was paying the price for using skills far beyond my stats. My muscles felt as shattered as the poor dummy I had beaten.
Even so, Helena seemed impressed.
“No flashy techniques, but a clean, solid posture rooted in fundamentals. However, I noticed elements of the eastern Malis regional knight style rather than the Reinhardt family swordsmanship. Is there a reason for that?”
I barely managed to answer while fighting for breath.
“…I believe it’s the influence of the tutor who taught me.”
“Hehe, I see. Well done, Arwen. Next—Maximus!”
Helena nodded in satisfaction, ending my session.
“He can use other sword styles besides the Reinhardt family’s?”
“As expected of Lady Sophia’s brother.”
The onlookers were arbitrarily inflating my ability, but I had no strength left to correct them.
The only silver lining was that after that hellish class, my strength stat had risen—even if only by a single point.
“Yeah… if I keep raising it bit by bit, the pain should lessen eventually.”
That was a problem for later. Right now, even walking to the carriage was torture. Sharp pain lanced through the taut muscles of my soles with every step. If my feet had mouths, they would have screamed at me to stop walking and lie down anywhere.
My exhausted body threatened to collapse onto the cold brick pavement, but I could not fall. I still had to find Emilia and collect today’s semen. If I delayed even one day, I might fail to uphold my promise to Wolfgang to deliver more than double the initial amount.
“That absolutely cannot happen. If we break our word, there’s no telling what request that greedy dwarf will make next.”
He might seriously ask to borrow Emilia’s hole. I could never allow another man’s rod to enter what was mine.
Recalling the lecherous old dwarf’s face, I headed for the carriage bound for the Reinhardt Palace where Emilia’s laboratory was located.
* * *
“Haaam… so sleepy…”
It wasn’t even lunchtime yet, but I could not stop the languid yawns that kept escaping me.
“Sigh… It’s all Arwen’s fault.”
Ever since I crossed a line that should never have been crossed with him on Saturday two days ago, I had not slept a single wink. Every time I closed my eyes, the memory of him thrusting into me while groaning my name flooded my mind.
Emilia, I’m going to cum inside.
While I changed my soaked panties again and again, the morning sun rose at the same hour without mercy. And now, having arrived at the laboratory in the worst possible condition, the time when Arwen was due to visit was fast approaching.
I glanced at the clock and slapped my own cheeks with both hands, steeling myself.
“Pull yourself together, Emilia. You are going to look Arwen in the eye and clearly tell him, ‘Now the sex is over.’”
The act of losing my virginity to him had been an unavoidable choice forced by Wolfgang’s coercion. Now that the contract had been successfully fulfilled and all that remained was to collect semen, there was no longer any reason for me to sleep with Arwen—even if the sky itself came crashing down.