I'm Different from Lucas
"I'm different from Lucas."
"...What?"
Why the hell is he suddenly bringing up that bastard Lucas?
I lift my lowered head and stare at Terria.
"I'm different from Lucas. I know what you're thinking."
"What do you know? Do you even have the right to spout that crap?"
I yell in anger. But after being shot down by him time and again, my confidence has crumbled. My voice comes out pathetically small.
Terria presses his advantage.
"Right? You don't have the right—not me."
"What..."
"I don't know exactly what went down yesterday, but I can guess. You forced her to suck you off, right?"
His words dredge up the memories I'd desperately tried to bury. I'd spent the whole night trying to forget them.
Memories I never wanted to recall again.
I grit my teeth and growl. It comes out sounding like a pathetic puppy's whine. Still, I try to lace it with fury.
"Don't talk about it anymore. I warned you."
"No, listen. Whatever method it was, that was a cry for help. Right? You sent the signal over and over."
"...So?"
"Thanks to you, I had to raid the place. You get it by now."
It was unavoidable. Anyone would have made that choice there.
No one would just sit back and take something like that.
There was no other way to fight back.
I rationalize it to myself.
"But those bastards started it..."
"Even if the slave struck first, there's a world of difference between a noble and a slave."
"...I know."
"If you want me to spell it out, fine. We'll probably get an official complaint. Even if they tormented the slave, we attacked a mage—a noble—first. The compensation falls on us."
He's right. The Blue Tower bears the responsibility for reparations.
I knew that. I just didn't want to say it out loud.
In that light, he really is different from Lucas. No matter what happened to me, the proper response would be to ignore it and file a formal protest.
But he came to rescue me. Even though he had no obligation to.
If he'd wanted to plunge me into despair, leaving me there would have been better.
"So what are you getting at? That I'm in the wrong? That this is my fault?"
"Yeah. This is on you."
"No!"
But it's not my fault, is it? The victim of a kidnapping isn't to blame.
I should say that. But the words won't come.
Terria keeps hammering away.
"Yes, it is. Stop being stubborn and admit it. None of this would have happened if you hadn't gotten yourself stupidly kidnapped. Property damage, assault... We can't even estimate the compensation yet. Why'd you leave the room in the first place?"
"I... I'm a mage... If you'd just given me that artifact..."
"Don't pin this on me. If you couldn't hide your looks, you shouldn't have gone out."
Sophistry. It was partly his fault for not giving me the perception-disrupting artifact.
But my thoughts don't go that far. Or maybe I'm unconsciously shoving it aside.
His words feel entirely right.
"...So what do you want me to do? What would make you happy?"
"Asking the obvious? How'd you handle it back then?"
"Huh?"
Terria's stiff expression suddenly melts into a sly grin, like all that talk was nothing.
Irritation flares up for no reason, and I glare at him.
Ignoring it, he urges me on, like spit it out already.
"How'd you punish me when I screwed up before?"
Before the swap, when Terria messed up, I'd beat him. Torment him. Belittle him.
"Punish..."
"You know. If you're wrong, you take the punishment, right?"
If you're wrong... you get punished.
In other words, I need to get spanked.
And I'd just admitted it with my own mouth.
But taking it from Terria is a whole different story. Clechia or Master, maybe—but him?
"...So you're gonna punish me? Spank me or something?"
"Yeah. Of course, if you don't want to, we don't have to."
He says it like it's no big deal.
Part of me wants to call his bluff. Maybe it's nothing.
"What... how hard?"
"Your ass. Exactly ten smacks."
"Are you insane? Do I look like a kid to you?"
"One more time: I'm not forcing you. Don't want it? We skip. Pretty nice master, huh?"
But his words shock me. The ass? I never pegged him for that kind of interest.
Did I ever spank his ass back then? Probably not. Arms or calves, maybe—but this?
"N-no."
"But I can't hand an artifact to a kid who won't own up to her mistakes."
Terria flashes a grin. That evil little smile he uses to toy with people. A smirk born of certainty that I won't refuse.
A thought strikes me. Just as I know "my" body inside out, he must know "his" just as well.
"...It's your body. You really want to spank it?"
"Yeah. That's why I know exactly where to hit."
Terria, perched on the bed's edge, leans toward me. His eyes now burn with emotion. Lust? Superiority? Hard to tell.
Our beds are shoved close together—less than a meter between us.
Sitting on the bed, I instinctively pull back. Averting my gaze, I mutter,
"...Perverted bastard. You don't think this is blackmail?"
"Of course it is. When did I ever order you to take it?"
"Can't you just give me the artifact?"
"Nope. How do I know our cheeky little slave won't cause more trouble? Gotta see some remorse first."
Remorse. Is that it? Do I deserve punishment?
Yeah. This is my fault.
My fault.
People who screw up get punished.
Simple as that. Whining that I don't want it but still demanding the prize? That's kid stuff.
I'm not a kid.
Like I'm possessed, I answer,
"...Fine. I'll take my punishment."
"Good girl. Come here."
I rise slowly and shuffle to Terria's bed.
Awkwardly standing there, he pats his knee.
"Lie down here."
"...Ung."
I drape my lower belly across his lap, face down. My lower body lifts higher than my torso. My tail swishes.
Chest pressed into the bed, it's a little stuffy. In this position, my ass must be fully exposed.
Embarrassed, I bury my face in the blanket. Eyes squeezed shut like a terrified camel shoving its head in the sand.
I'm a camel. A camel...
"Gonna pull your pants down."
"...What? Why the pants?"
"Spank you over your clothes? You ever seen that? They strip bare for floggings too."
"R-really...?"
It sounds right somehow. I reach back and tug my pants down just a bit.
Cool air hits my bare ass. My panties must be showing now.
Is this okay? What the hell am I doing?
Hypnotized? I pinch my arm.
"Ow...!"
Pinched too hard— a little whimper escapes. Startled by my own voice, I sneak a glance at Terria.
He stares back like I'm pathetic.
I shove my face back into the blanket.
Fuck...
I flinch as his hand touches my ass.
Now that it's real, nerves hit. I blurt,
"Ten... you said exactly ten?"
"Yeah. Exactly ten. Oh—call me 'Master' and I'll cut it to five?"
"...Shut up and get it over with."
A rough hand strokes my ass. Then rubs, like scouting the perfect spot. Like an alcohol swab before a shot.
He just circles his palm for ages. How hard is he gonna hit? I tense, clenching hard.
Can't see him—fear and shame mix. I bite my lip and mutter,
"Hurry... spank me."
"Count each one out loud. Mess up, we start over."
"Start over? What kind of—"
I jolt upright at "start over," but pain crashes down.
SMACK!
"...?! H-hurts...!!"
Pain I never imagined. Couldn't even scream. Tears prick my eyes.
Trying to rise loosened my clench—just what he waited for. His palm slams mercilessly.
"Count. 'One' from the start."
SMACK!
"W-wait... Kyaaah...! No such rule! It hurts...!"
Did he misjudge his strength? Or hit harder on purpose? No time to wonder—another swing.
SMACK!
"Kyuk! O-one, oneee...!"
No choice but to count. Not a sting—my mind blanks white from the agony in my ass.
Why? Is my screw-up worth this?
SMACK!
"Kyaaak! T-two! G-gently...!"
Even on fleshier spots, this hard? It hurts like hell.
I twist to escape—like a kitten flailing, futile. My hands grip the bed harder.
Fingers ache from clenching, but the pain throbs on.
Terria leans in, whispering in my ear.
"You never stopped when I said it hurt. Right?"
SMACK!
"Th-that... Hnguk! Th-threeee...!"
Hate this... Just stop.
Thrashing does nothing against the hand pinning my back.
Hair a tangled mess from struggling. All I can do is clutch the bed and endure.
"Hurts? Call me Master. I'll make it five."
I clap a hand over my mouth to stifle moans. Saliva soaks my fingers and the blanket unnoticed as I shake my head.
Master? Rather hurt forever.
SMACK!
"Shut up... Kyuuut! F-four!"
Arrogant thought. Can't endure this.
Lightning flashes with each hit—vision sparks.
I tremble, babbling.
SMACK!
"Stop... I was wrong... Kyhuk! F-five...! Hurts, it hurts...! St-stop...!"
"Gonna take punishment next time you screw up?"
SMACK!
"Y-yes, I will! Ahnguk! S-six...! I'll take it... if wrong, punishment...!"
Pain spills words from my mouth. Anything to stop hurting.
But Terria declares mercilessly,
"Really wanna quit? No artifact if we stop now."
Of course. Can't forgive a kid who bails midway.
Right?
My ass swells red like a ripe apple.
"Hng... Hnguk, you cheat... Hurry finish..."
"If you say so."
Sudden sharp tingle elsewhere.
"Hut...!?"
His free hand grabs my tail.
Lower body's hypersensitive from pain—tail stimulation hits tenfold harder.
Tears blur my dazed eyes. Vision swims.
A sticky voice drips from my mouth, like melting candy.
SMACK!
"D-don't touch there... Hnguk! S-seven...! Hut, huuut...!"
Invisible fingers roughly knead the swishing furball.
Tail pleasure tangles with ass pain—mind a knotted mess.
His whisper raises goosebumps. Low growl tickles my ear, burrowing into my brain.
Too painful—yet half good. Contradiction torments.
"Wow, getting off on a spanking? Panties are soaked."
SMACK!
"Wh-who's getting off... Hngng! E-eight...!"
I deny it, but my body twitches, leaking anyway.
Panties damp. Realizing it, my face burns.
Obviously the tail—not the spanking. This body's too sensitive.
Even I know something's wrong with it. A guy shouldn't feel this from a beating.
"Hut, stop touching! Hurry spank... Hat!"
Somehow, each smack hurts less now. He hasn't eased up—why?
Humiliating pose, helpless to his hands. Body goes limp.
Bite down, endure—but can't.
"Looks wet to me?"
SMACK!
"Hut, bullshit... Ahng! N-nine...! F-fuck...!"
SMACK!
"Stop touching... Haaaang! T-ten...! Huk, ht... Hnguk."
Even knowing it's over, I slump there, draped limp.
Ass quivers. Brushing it stings—can't move.
Seconds drag. I roll slowly to slip off his lap—then he strokes my head.
"Good girl."
You fucking dog.