Lick
Ian and the women's pursuit had dragged on for days. He never once faced them head-on. He hid and evaded, struck from ambush when he found an opening, then fled again. Rinse and repeat. It had kept him alive so far, but now he was at his limit. His mana was nearly depleted, his food had run out ages ago. His breaths came in ragged gasps, his body refusing to obey. Everything was a mess.
"…Ha."
He barely caught his breath when—
"How about we call it here?"
A voice drifted from behind him. Chills shot up his spine in an instant. Ian's gaze slowly turned.
A woman he'd never seen before. But that didn't matter. She was different from all the ones he'd faced so far. Petite build. Yet her mere presence overwhelmed him. Ian's eyes narrowed.
And he was certain.
Gulp... '...The real one.'
"You've been waiting for me, right?"
She spoke first. Calm. No—leisurely. As if she already knew everything.
Ian's eyes narrowed ever so slightly. She had noticed, too. That he'd been deliberately fleeing to draw her out.
"So?"
The woman took a step forward.
"What changes?"
A familiar tone. Even with her true body revealed, she brimmed with composure.
"…You took longer than I expected."
Ian said lowly. His breathing was still uneven. But his gaze never wavered.
"Got me curious, too."
His mouth said that, but his fingertips were already tense. Mana scattered faintly. Ready to unleash at any moment.
At that instant, her eyes narrowed.
"…Your bag of tricks never ends."
Her lips twisted into a smirk.
And—
Crack!
Nothing was visible. From behind. A crushing impact like his head was being smashed down.
"Agh—!"
His vision shook violently. Balance shattered. His body wouldn't respond. He couldn't do a thing.
Thud.
Flung forward by the force, he tumbled head over heels.
"Gotcha now."
The woman's voice came from right above him. A clone...
"Fuck…!"
Ian gritted his teeth. Forcing his body up, he summoned his mana. The moment he tried to unleash a spell—
"Behave."
Click.
Cold metal touched his neck. And with it, his mana flow severed.
"…What the hell."
For a moment, he couldn't breathe. The constant sensation—gone completely. An empty void. Like a part of him had been ripped away, an alien emptiness flooded in.
"That's a mana restraint for mages."
"You crazy bitch… Take this off right now!"
Ian gnashed his teeth and thrashed. But the weight pinning his back made it impossible to move. She pressed down on his back with her knee, looking down from above.
"You goddamn bitch!"
Ian screamed and flailed. In that moment—
Crack!
She roughly twisted and yanked his wrist back.
"Agh!"
His wrist bent backward. Bones creaking like they were screaming. One more ounce of force, and it'd snap. He couldn't move.
No—he'd be done if he did.
"Went through a lot of trouble to get that."
She chuckled lowly.
"Can't just let you go easy."
"…Fuck off."
Ian spat through clenched teeth. His breaths came in harsh bursts.
"Oh?"
The woman tilted her head.
"Was planning to anyway."
Pat, pat. She nodded playfully.
"But not here."
Swoosh. She slowly scanned the surroundings. Exaggerated motions. Mocking.
"Need to prep a bit."
At those words—
The five clones standing around moved in unison.
Forming a square. Footsteps echoed together.
Through them—
She approached slowly. And squatted right in front of Ian.
"Ian… right?"
Ian didn't answer. He just clenched his teeth harder. His jaw trembled.
Swoosh. Her hand descended over his head. Gently. Too naturally. All the more chilling.
"The more I look, the finer the quality."
Heh heh. A short laugh.
"I'm Maritia."
Her narrowed eyes raked over Ian. Like appraising prey, slow and obsessive.
"Let's have some fun."
With that, she slowly rose. Her black skirt swayed softly.
"Won't let you get bored till we're ready."
Swoosh.
She deliberately lifted her skirt hem, showing it off. As the black fabric slid up, the pale skin of her inner thigh gleamed starkly. Black garter belt straps dug taut into her flesh, red lines from the lace pressing lightly into her skin. Sunlight fractured thinly along the edges, accentuating the soft, elastic curves.
Gulp.
Ian swallowed dryly without realizing. She caught it perfectly and twisted her lips, chuckling lowly. A leisurely smile laced with mockery.
"Oh, look at you."
Her voice dripped low and sticky.
"Can't take your eyes off already?"
Ian realized his mistake too late and whipped his head away. As if the mere glance was wrong, he clamped his jaw shut.
"…Ha."
A short breath escaped. She didn't miss it.
"Different flavor from when you're fighting."
Maritia's voice flowed low. Her lips curled mockingly.
"More… obedient than I thought."
Her gaze swept over him. Slowly, deliberately slower. Hunting eyes chasing the one trying to flee.
Ian clamped his mouth shut, feeling exposed.
"Anyway… prepped now."
Maritia smiled faintly.
"Shall we?"
At her words—
"Up."
Click.
The clone behind gripped the shackle. And yank!
"Guh!"
His neck snapped back, body hoisted up. Feet barely touching ground, dragged like trash. His throat tightened relentlessly. Breath cut off. No room to resist.
"Urk!"
Ian gritted his teeth and clutched the shackle. Tried to hold on, but his grip weakened.
Clank, clank. Each rattle squeezed his neck tighter.
Maritia watched leisurely, smiling.
Heh heh.
Eyes full of enjoyment.
They arrived at a red tent. A glaringly out-of-place color.
"In."
She gestured lightly.
"Or want me to hurt you again?"
Soft tone, brutal words. Red marks already ringed Ian's neck.
Ian gritted his teeth briefly, then stepped inside.
The tent interior was excessively tidy. Spotless. All the more unsettling. A space unfit for killers.
But too late. Four clones stood inside, blocking the exit naturally.
"Lie down."
Voice from behind. Ian gritted his teeth.
"Fuck off."
Low growl through clenched teeth.
Brief silence.
And—
"Heh heh…"
Maritia laughed.
"Nice. That's more like it."
Not teasing—genuine anticipation.
"Filthy bitch."
Ian stepped forward defiantly. In that instant—
"Pin him."
Maritia's single word.
Thud!
The clone beside kicked his knee out.
"Kuh—!"
His legs buckled. Stagger—
As balance crumbled, the shackle yanked hard from behind.
Clang. Neck wrenched back.
"Ugh!"
Breath choked off.
And—smash!
His shoulder hit the floor. Two clones lunged, grabbing his arms. The other two seized his legs.
"Ha…!"
He thrashed, but useless. Couldn't shake them off by strength alone. Not a limb budged.
"Good."
Maritia approached slowly.
"How's it feel? Can't move a muscle, legs spread wide?"
"Grr…"
Humiliation surged; Ian gritted his teeth and jerked his head away.
"Heh heh… Yeah, you liked this before, didn't you?"
Maritia chuckled lowly, planting her knee right over his face. Her inner thigh brushed so close to his cheek, her hot body heat seeped in. No escape.
Swoosh.
Her skirt hem rose slowly. Deliberately slow, to hold his breath. Black fabric fully lifted, revealing thin black lace panties. The lace damp and slightly sheer, her intimate contours shifting subtly with each breath, starkly visible.
Ian's pupils quivered. Her hot scent and breath right under his nose scrambled his head. Maritia stared straight down at his wavering gaze, biting her lip in a smile.
"Well…? Pretty, right?"
She leaned her hips lower, whispering.
"Feel it slowly… what happens to you now."
Maritia bent her legs fully, lowering her body further. Swoosh. Her round, firm ass settled on his chest. She slowly shifted her weight, pressing down firmly. Soft but undeniable pressure crushed his chest, squeezing his breath.
"Ugh…"
A short groan escaped. Maritia, fully mounted atop him, looked down. No room to flee.
Heh heh.
Her hand moved slowly. Showing it off, even slower. Swoosh. She began rolling down her black stockings. Unhooking the garter straps one by one, lifting the thin lace panties slightly to slip them off. Each piece dropped to the floor beside Ian. Even the rustle of fabric sounded lewd.
"Hah… hah…"
Ian's breaths grew ragged unbidden. From her weight? Or the blatant scene? He couldn't tell. He just couldn't look away.
Maritia slowly parted her lips. Her voice low, commanding.
"Lick."
