First Breach

Vincent's climax was long and thick.

The volume this time was especially copious. The milky fluid, forcibly prying open the mouth of my womb to inject itself directly within, shoved aside the older batch of concentrated seed — its vigor and motility already waning — and settled into place anew. If I truly had conceived last night, there was enough of it to worry that the freshly formed fertilized egg might drown before it could even implant.

"Hyaauk!"

In answer, my nether regions — as if begging not to be hurt — wept their nectar and clenched my walls tight, squeezing at the pillar. Perhaps that proved too stimulating; Vincent seized my hips and drove in to the very root, burrowing deeper still as he spewed his milky load.

Already panting from a penetration deep enough to press my organs out of place, I gasped and shrieked at the vicious thing surging up into me once more.

"Vincenthhh! Stop! Stop it, you can't go any deeper!"

Watching me struggle against his monstrous cock, he wore a look of pride as he ground himself against my fleshy walls, smearing the seed that, unable to fit inside my womb, spilled back out. It was like the marking beasts perform — a brand declaring this female is mine.

Nestled against Vincent's firm chest, I clutched and clawed at his back, trying my best to endure. Drawn on by the act, the fluids gushing from me began to mix something clear in with the semen. A sweet scent threaded through the heavy fragrance of chestnut blossoms.

"Heauk."

"Adela, I love you."

I couldn't keep my head straight with Vincent confessing his feelings mid-ejaculation. I wished he wouldn't do this. Because if he kept it up, I might start getting the wrong idea.

"Adela, you know what?"

"Uh... what?"

"When you're aroused, you smell like peaches."

Me too...? Do I really give off my mother's peach scent when I'm aroused?

It was a single sentence that dashed cold water over my intoxicated mind. That's right. I could not be allowed to become a female ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠like my mother like this. Hadn't I murmured it to myself over and over, even after leaving her embrace and drifting from battlefield to battlefield? That I would never become someone like her. All the more where sex was concerned.

I am Vincent's master — practically his mother. To him, all of this is nothing but a boy's childhood whim stretched into adulthood. This child ought to meet someone better than me, become a parent himself, and live happily.

I lifted my hand and stroked the cheek of the man still shamelessly absorbed in ravishing the body of the woman who was his master and adoptive mother.

"Vincent. My disciple. My child."

Vincent was visibly flustered. Of course he was — even when he was a boy newly taken in, even when he'd become my disciple and inherited the Heavenly Demon arts, I had never once called to him the way one calls a child.

I had approached him like a friend because I feared I couldn't be a good mother to him — and now it struck me that this might have been a torture that fed this child hope. When Vincent misbehaved, I let it slide because he was young, chalking it up to puberty. If even back then those were the acts of someone who saw me as a woman, watching day and night for his chance — and I raised him, oblivious to all of it... Should I say that I, this woman, gave him room to hope?

"I'm sorry. I'm the one who's sorry."

Tears spilled down in drops.

"I told you crying wouldn't work on me, didn't I?"

Vincent seemed to think I was simply wringing out tears to escape this crisis.

"If only I hadn't given you hope, you would never have done any of this..."

"What?"

"Then you wouldn't have wasted your life pining after me."

"What are you even saying?"

"Let's go back to the Imperial Capital, Vincent."

At the mention of the capital, Vincent's mouth clamped shut, just as I'd expected.

"The Emperor has prepared a great many things for you. A marriage to the Imperial Princess is among them."

"Why are you bringing that up now?"

"The Princess is a good woman. If you can secure that marriage alliance, you can reclaim the happiness stolen from your childhood in a far better environment."

"I asked why you're saying this."

Vincent's voice went cold in an instant.

"The baby... yes, the baby must have taken by now. But don't worry. I'll give birth and raise it where no one will ever set eyes on it, for the rest of my life."

And so my selfish greed had ended up forcing a life of sacrifice upon the child in my belly as well.

I'm sorry, little one. Mommy stole your daddy from you. Just like my own mother did.

"Enough."

With Vincent's spirit pressing down like that, the words I'd meant to persuade him with wouldn't leave my mouth.

"Say it one more time. That you'll vanish in front of me again."

"B-but Vincent. If you use them, you could win back everything you lost..."

Cutting me off, Vincent issued his warning.

"Why do you keep trying to decide my happiness for me? Don't make me laugh. My happiness is becoming your husband, Adela, and having a child with you. That's all there is to it."

"You're mistaking your own feelings! This isn't love! You're deluding yourself!"

"No. This is love!"

"It is not! You need to find real love, the right kind!"

"Holding you, I finally understood. You were meant to be mine. I won't hand you over to anyone else. That is my love."

"That's not love — you're just clinging to memories of your childhood!"

There he went, digging in his heels. Even as a boy, I could count on one hand the times I'd managed to break that stubbornness. I would have to try something else.

"Then what about me? You want me to live the rest of my life clinging to you like this, mewling and popping out your babies?"

"Adela..."

Vincent couldn't get the words out, only gazing at me with wounded eyes. Thankfully, some shred of conscience and shame remained — it seemed to be working. I had to drive the wedge in for good.

"I'm disappointed in you, Vincent. Do you not understand me? I hate you!"

I rose from his embrace, trying to put distance between us — but the pitiable man before me refused to release me from his arms.

"Let go. Release me. I have no intention of living here with you."

The fleshy column, still carrying its heat inside me, slid free. With a soft moan as the glans slipped out, I brushed past Vincent — who stared blankly after me as though hollowed out — and tried to bring things to a close.

"Where are my clothes? And give me back my sword."

I thought that if things flowed like this, they might yet end on decent terms. If I had come up with this approach sooner, perhaps the whole affair might have remained a mere mishap — one that ended without my being raped by Vincent. Cursing my own stupidity, I was making for the door when Vincent raised an arm and barred my path.

"Move."

He caught me as I tried to slip lightly past his arm and pulled me back into his embrace.

"Ugh, let go of me."

I was telling him to release me, looking into Vincent's eyes, when I saw something strange in them. Sadness had been there all along, so I let that pass. Anger would have made sense. But pity? What in anything I'd just said gave him reason to pity me? If anything, he should have been pitying himself. Those eyes were unmistakably looking down at me in pity — the look one gives a poor, pitiable little animal.

"What's with that look?"

What are you thinking?

"Adela. You say you hate me?"

"That's right, I hate you. Keep me like this and I'll spend the rest of my life resenting you. Never once will the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠words 'I love you' leave my mouth."

Summoning every ounce of spirit, I glared daggers and delivered my warning.

"I don't care."

"What?"

"Adela, I told you — I don't care if you resent me."

"Call it stubbornness all you like. Do you honestly believe you can live happily with a woman who'll curse and despise you until the day she dies?"

"Adela, Adela. My pitiful master. My pitiful mother."

Behind Vincent's eyes, the same madness from the very beginning flashed for an instant.

"Did you really think a man who kidnapped and raped a perfectly healthy woman wanted to be loved like a normal person?"

Even as he spoke, Vincent seized me and bent me face-down over the bed.

"Ugh, let go!"

I struggled, but sheer brute force overpowered me as it had before.

"Curse me, resent me — it changes nothing. Compared to what you've given me, all of that is a mere fraction of what I'm owed."

My posture locked in place, face shoved into the mattress, I was made to kneel and raise my hips. Unable to see whatever Vincent was doing back there, a shapeless dread began to bloom. Just as I twisted my head against the weight pinning me down, desperate for any glimpse of him —

a hot mass of flesh touched my anus.

"Hngh?!"

That flesh was drenched in sticky fluid, and at the same time it radiated scorching heat, as if to announce that from this moment on, it would be piercing my anus.

"Get that away from me, Vincent. That place is filthy — don't you dare!"

At my pleading voice, Vincent asked the one question he should never have asked.

"Adela, I know everything. You haven't used this hole since that day, have you?"

What was he talking about? There was no way this child could know that...

"N-not using it? What nonsense is that? I relieve myself every single day, don't I? It's a dirty hole!"

"How long did you think I'd stay in the dark? Did you think that if you just ran away from me like that, I'd go 'oh, I see' and simply accept it?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about. A-and more importantly, stop poking at my back hole!"

The hot glans bore down with its full weight, until even my anus felt like it was burning.

Vincent exhaled a scalding breath and said, quietly:

"I've known all along. Before I ever left on my journey as the Hero — when I killed the demon shaman who attacked you."

He knew. All this time, he knew.

"That he had cast the curse of demonification. And that you, Adela, took the curse in my place — that you became something neither human nor demon."

I remembered pressing gold coins into a church priest's hands as "donations," begging him to keep the true nature of the curse secret. Those bastards. They just told all of it to a child?

"Wait — then Vincent, the reason you set out on the Demon King's subjugation the moment we parted was...?"

"That's right. It was to break your curse."

So that was it. Of course — he was never the kind of boy to fall for a princess at first sight and do all that. Afraid he would hurl himself into raging storms for my sake, I had thrown down a single letter claiming I was sick of it all, and run. A ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠bitter taste spread through my mouth.

Perhaps sensing my mood, Vincent changed the subject.

"I know you haven't used this hole since that day."

"N-no, I have! I haven't fully demonified, so I've used it!"

"Adela, I'm not the child I was back then. I pride myself on knowing demons better than anyone alive."

Vincent drew his glans back a short way and ran his hand over my feverishly flushed anus.

"Hng! You can't touch me there!"

"Demons don't eat. Most of them sustain themselves by converting mana into demonic energy. Even when they do take food, it's mere amusement — everything they swallow is converted to mana and burned away."

Vincent gripped my buttocks in both hands and brought his face close, drinking in the scent of my anus.

"Wh-where are you sniffing?! Don't! I said don't!! Hahh!?"

When I writhed in shame, Vincent smacked my rear as if to say, hold still.

Layering spells from two separate schools two- and threefold to seal my movement, he brought his face back between my cheeks.

"What are you trying to do?! Stop! It smells weird down there!"

The sensation at my entrance told me everything. He had begun to lick my back hole.

"Ah! I told you not to! You pervert! Let go! Let go of me!"

Now I understood why he had gone so far as to use magic to fix my body in place. That eerie, alien sensation came creeping up again. A pleasure I didn't recognize bleached my mind white.

"Ah! Aaahhh! No! I hate this, I hate it!"

The tongue that had been stroking along my pucker finally pried the ring open and slipped inside to taste my inner flesh.

"Hiiiik! Nghiit! Hyaaang! Nngiit!"

With my movement sealed away, all I could do was scream as he toyed with me. Only after I — unable to do anything at all — finally broke down sobbing did Vincent's face leave the cleft of my rear.

"See? Nothing but peach blossom and a sweet taste — not dirty in the slightest. And that pretty pink chrysanthemum shape? Absolutely obscene."

"You insane bastard! I told you to stop! Hng! You're terrifying me!"

He had looked sheepish at reducing me to tears, but I could feel his excitement mounting as he stared at me, and it frightened me.

"Stop crying and accept it. To a demon, this hole was never meant for passing waste — it exists to relieve lust, nothing more. And that goes for you too, Adela, with your demonification advanced this far."

He released the spells binding me, then took hold of my posture himself, adjusting it with his own hands.

I have to stop this. Left as I was, he would pluck another flower from me. A chrysanthemum, this time. The pressure of his glans against my anus once more told me time was running out.

"I did say we'd find out whether you can conceive through your ass too, remember?"

"Hiihk!"

He pressed his urethra to the slightly parted ring, then — with the hand that had been steadying his aim — stroked along his scalding shaft, and his cock heaved, belching out the seed still left inside it from his earlier climax. As the semen seeped in through the parted gap, the hot, clinging sensation set my whole body shuddering.

I tried to dissuade him with a trembling voice.

"D-don't do this, Vincent. Please, I'm begging you. I-I'm scared...!"

"Your rear virginity is mine to take as well, Adela."

"No! I said no — let go of me!!"

The pressure against my anus began to build. He meant to glide in through the seed already planted inside me. With the magic undone, I could move again. I tried to crawl away from the cock seeking to breach me — but with Vincent's strength clamped firm around my hips, all my struggling accomplished was dragging the bedding a few inches.

"Hagk! Nghk! Hahk — no! It hurts!!"

Past the limit of my sphincter, that thick girth brought a tearing agony closing in on me. The column kept forcing its way deeper, wringing dry heaves from my throat, and the presence burrowing into me left my insides heavy and bloated. My fleeing hands could do no more than seize the bedding and wring it, trying to displace the pain.

"Khh! Adela! Relax!"

Telling me to relax yet granting no time to do so, he kept up the rhythm of thrust and withdrawal, driving himself deeper with every stroke. I couldn't breathe.

"Vincent! You rotten — hahk — bastard! Pull out — hng — right now!"

We screamed at each other until, at last, the root of his cock met my anus stretched open as wide as it would go — and then neither of us spoke, both of us simply gasping for air. Perhaps my senses had been scrambled by the weight I felt through my rectum; it seemed as though the urge to relieve myself, unfelt for years, was stirring back to life. My sphincter, desperate to restore ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠what had been wrenched open, twitched and clenched around his cock, trying to squeeze it out.

Still sheathed in my anus, Vincent leaned down over me, adjusting his stance so he could drive his column in even deeper. Pressing his torso flush against my back, blanketing me entirely, he whispered into my ear.

"I'm going to move now, Adela."