You're the Pervert
It's a small, delicate body. Even a slight squeeze of my arms wrapped around her from behind feels like it could shatter her slender, fragile frame—but at the same time, it's a beautiful one. Her fully swollen breasts and hips overflow with such volume that her thin ankles and narrow waist can barely support them. Meanwhile, her milky skin is so smooth and elastic it could pass for a baby's, exuding a dual allure that's both sexy and instinctively protective. Burying my face in the nape of her neck and inhaling her scent deeply fills my mind with nothing but primal instinct—the burning desire to fill her completely with myself.
"Ngh, haa... Why's it my fault, ahn, ngh..."
"You really don't know?"
Nod, nod.
She drank the aphrodisiac herself, yet Ariel has no clue why she's the one in heat. If she's genuinely clueless, then she has a heaven-sent talent for seducing reason right out of people. Guess I should enlighten her.
Her abdomen, usually cool to the touch, radiates a warm glow from the aphrodisiac. Keeping one hand firmly pressing her smooth, soft lower belly, I stroke her skin with the other, sliding up to grasp her ear. Then, step by step, I explain exactly what's wrong with her body.
"First, here."
"Hik...!"
I lightly rake my fingernail down her ear. The warmth of her body heat emanates from that soft, chewy spot, hiding fine fuzz that tickles my fingertips—touching it alone melts away stress. I want to savor that texture forever, but...
"And here."
"Kyaa...!"
Threading my fingers through her hair, I trail down to tease her slender neck. The red choker clashes deliciously with her innocently pale nape, amplifying the forbidden thrill. Pressing my lips there and sucking hard to leave a purple mark, her head thrashes wildly—does Ariel know how much that stirs my conquest lust?
"Here too."
"Hiya?! Hyaa...!"
Probably not. I leave kiss marks scattered across her deeply dimpled collarbone, glistening with saliva—branding her with marks that won't fade anytime soon. I can't see her face from behind, but the way she clamps her hand over her mouth? Easy guess: she's embarrassed that even there feels so good.
"Still don't get it?"
"Ngh, haa... hnng, no..."
What a born slut Ariel is. Of course, right now she's so ruled by lust she can't even think of resisting me. The way her tail thrashes uncontrollably, unable to hide her excitement as she surrenders completely, tells me everything. Now I slip my hand under her lab coat and seize her breast. Even my large hand can't fully encompass that pillowy softness; I tease it slowly from the edges, kneading with sticky strokes to draw the heat inward, then roughly pinch her already rock-hard nipple. I savor Ariel trembling and arching her back.
Her prominent cleavage, the curve of her underboob, even her armpits—all mesmerizing. But enough; I slide my hand lower.
"Still?"
"Kyaa! Hik... i-it tickles..."
I tickle her side, then circle her navel. Her flat, toned belly, accentuated by that straight-line navel and cinched waist, screams sex appeal. Tormenting her pure soul—dismissing the goosebump-inducing pleasure as mere tickling—makes her stomach twitch uncontrollably, like she's begging for more.
"Even like this?"
"...Hic?! Kyaa! W-wait... that's weird, don't touch there... haa!"
So I do. Her bony frame shows faint ribs, but the padding over her womb is perfectly soft and springy—addictively so, begging to be pressed. Everything's a first for Ariel, but this bizarre sensation of her most precious spot being squeezed defies words. Pain? Pleasure? Just stimulation? She can't tell, biting her lips and writhing her hips. My cock's already throbbing at its limit, stabbing into her ass crack.
"Still not your fault?"
I can't hold back. That wriggling ass like it's tempting a man, the plump tail and thighs attached, the contrasting slim ankles and cute feet—they're all testing my limits. No more.
"I... don't... hnng, no... haa, really... I'm not a pervert..."
"You drank just that one sip and you're already this heated—who's the real pervert?"
Shake, shake. But does Ariel realize she's unconsciously pushing her ass back, slyly grinding her mound against my cock? Or that her flushed, tightly shut eyes betray a subtle anticipation? Her body doesn't lie—her pussy's gushing, soaking her panties.
I whisper it all into her ear, pounding the truth home.
"Ariel like this? Total pervert."
"Haa...! Y-yes, hnng... l-let's go to the room... okay?"
Lost in ecstasy, she turns her dazed face to me, pleading in a husky voice to leave the lab. She doesn't realize the hint of regret in her tone—the nasal whine implying she wants it here, rejecting the room. She doesn't know she can't hold back anymore. That the thrill of fucking amid her life's purpose—magic research—secretly excites her.
"No."
What an idiot Ariel is. Her brain shuts down outside magic; she probably thinks her rising heat is from that weak aphrodisiac she just drank after losing the bet. But that dose was so diluted it was barely different from nothing. Aphrodisiacs don't hit that fast anyway.
This slutty, uncontrollable Ariel? All from the thick dose she chugged way earlier.
When she said she was getting water, I swapped her bottle with one filled with store-bought, high-concentration aphrodisiac—off-limits to civilians, bought with my Blue Tower Lord status. Blissfully ignorant, Ariel blames the weak one from moments ago, confused why she's this horny already. She who hated sex so much can't accept being consumed by lust, craving me.
Ahh. So purely idiotic—I want to paint that blank canvas all my colors. Drench her in my scent. Etch my marks everywhere. Make it obvious to anyone: Ariel is mine.
She's mine alone. Every emotion of hers must stem from me. Her fear, anger, joy, sorrow, hope, despair, shame—all crafted by my hands. Handing her to anyone else? Unthinkable.
No need to tell her, though. She must always fear being discarded.
That's why—I'm angry.
That smile Ariel showed before, shy yet radiant with pure sincerity? Outside my script. Not born from my design. Doesn't matter what caused it; I refuse to accept it wasn't me.
Canaries cry when I say cry, laugh when I say laugh. She smiled off-schedule. She should flail in inescapable despair and anxiety, clinging to me. Teeter on the tightrope of hope I dangle as she nears breaking. Her world: me alone.
Nothing's derailed yet, so I'd overlook it—but the problem's me.
I was stunned. It was beautiful. Did I—pre-swap me—ever smile that prettily? Eyes softly curved, cheeks faintly flushed, brimming with pathos, pity, joy, awe. Pure resistance. A protest: I'm not broken; amid pains you inflict, joys that match still remain.
But I want to see it again. That world's most beautiful expression—I crave it endlessly. Even now, recalling it makes my heart race; I ache to make her smile once more.
Can't admit it. Mustn't. I can't be swayed by emotion.
So, make her cry. Ariel's most beautiful in tears. Crystal-clear blue eyes welling up, spilling emotion; a single droplet tracing her cheek, falling—that completes it.
Time to make her cry. To erase that smile conquering my mind.
"Ariel."
"Hn...?"
Oblivious to my intent, I strip her bare. Shivering slightly from the chill, I shut the window and grip the table with one hand. Pressing her waist down, I force her torso forward, ass thrust back.
Expecting doggy-style again? Her eyes gleam with subtle anticipation as I command:
"Wait."
"Wh-why... if you're gonna do it, hurry..."
"Stay still."
Even drugged, she can't shake her hips proactively—though she'd love my cock inside now, she obeys. Because it's an order.
I head to the lab corner, pulling tools from the cabinet. Hiding them from her view with my body, I bring them over and strip myself. Slipping on finger condoms, I slather lotion with wet squelches.
Her pussy's dripping, ready for my cock—but not today. Mine's painfully erect, aching to plunge in, but I endure for something bigger. Knowing how good it'd feel to grip her 160cm frame in rear-entry and pound mercilessly? Torture to hold back.
"Kyaa...!"
She's squirming too, thighs rubbing as if protesting the tease—I smack her pale ass, leaving a handprint. Then leash her choker.
"Ah...? Hic?!"
Startled by the tug, she whips around—but I press her head down, shoving lubed fingers into that tight hole.