Rule 33, A Midnight Date for the Cornered Marin (2)
“Ah, Miss? Is this really okay?”
I glanced around nervously, already spooked. But Marin just hooked her arm tightly through mine and looked up at me with feigned indifference.
As if she'd been waiting for this exact moment. Her shy face flushed red.
“I'm a slave, though...”
“This much is fine, right? There's no rule against it.”
This woman. She wasn't just brazen—she'd plastered a thick sheet of steel over her face.
“It's totally a problem...”
The stares from people around us stung. They seemed to be whispering and glancing our way for some reason.
Even though it wasn't cold, my whole body shivered. Probably because Marin, who could be terrifyingly scary, was plastered right against my side.
So, what the hell was this situation?
“We're just out together. Escaping the stuffy village.”
It was the first time since becoming a slave called Toilet. The first time stepping out of Dia Village, surrounded on all sides by towering concrete walls.
“You were the one who suggested a walk first, weren't you?”
“True, but... if people realize I'm a slave, it's gonna be chaos...”
I muttered, pointing to the cord around my neck.
Then Marin stopped walking and blocked my path.
“Well, people won't think you're a slave. The slave system was officially abolished in the 20th century, after all. So right now, to anyone looking, you're just a normal guy. More precisely, a blessed man escorting a beautiful and noble woman like me.”
“Well... yeah, I guess...”
Something about it irked me a little.
Of course, I couldn't argue with her being beautiful and noble. But hearing her brag about it herself made it even more annoying.
“But if you want to be treated like a slave, just say the word. I'll put a collar on you like yesterday. Letting you crawl on all fours like a puppy and soak up all those stares might actually be a pretty good snack.”
“...No thanks.”
Heh heh.
Marin suddenly let out a chuckle and burrowed back into my arms.
Because of that, a chill ran down my spine—I had a feeling she wasn't joking.
“Oh, and don't even think about running. That collar around your neck has a GPS sensor.”
I hadn't even considered it for a second...
Besides, Noehun no longer existed. Even if I ran, there was nowhere to go.
So in this utterly absurd situation, I had no choice but to match Marin's pace and step slowly forward.
As we walked like that, constantly looking around, this street suddenly felt reminiscent of the vibrant college days I'd only watched from afar.
“Miss, where the heck is this place?”
“A park near the village.”
“...Then why'd we come here?”
It didn't seem remotely related to the efficiency Marin always emphasized.
So I looked down at her expectantly, but Marin stared straight ahead and said,
“I just wanted to show off to those monkeys who look down on me—that I can make friends anytime I want.”
Squeeze.
Marin gripped our interlaced hands tighter. Her once-cold fingers started to warm up little by little.
“Plus, instead of hanging out in the empty village garden we see every day, a realistic spot full of people is way more efficient for learning about 'friends,' right?”
It was the first time. The first time I'd seen Marin's face with such an excited, thrilled expression.
She'd been glancing around anxiously the whole walk. But even so, she looked happy somehow.
“So stop shaking your shoulders like a loser and walk tall. You're not out here as some ordinary slave—you're my one and only... friend...”
“Got it...”
She said that, but my body wouldn't obey.
There was actually another reason I was trembling, beyond being a loner and a slave.
It was those glimpses peeking from her clothes every time I glanced down—Marin's small, perky pink nipples.
Even in a crowd, she never hid them. That defenseless sight kept making my dick ache.
Still, after that big incident this morning, she must have put on proper panties, right?
She had to have. Otherwise, she couldn't blend into this sea of people.
Anyway, Marin and I wandered the walking path hand in hand, soaking up the stinging stares from strangers—the kind I'd never felt before.
Of course, we didn't just walk.
Marin peered at the sausages on display at a street vendor and quipped,
“These look just like puppy treats.”
With a joke that wasn't funny at all.
And then, spouting nonsense like,
“I think I read that alcohol is essential for building friendships,”
she dragged me into a nearby convenience store to buy beer.
But there was only one can on the counter.
Marin, ever obsessed with efficiency and value, insisted there was no need to buy two just to study relationships.
Of course, the sly smirk she flashed at checkout was no secret.
Before I knew it, what started as some weird faux-bonding date with Marin had me enjoying myself.
Thud.
Marin plopped onto a bench and patted the spot next to her.
“Come here, sit.”
I sat with a slightly awkward expression, keeping a little distance from her.
Marin took the cold beer can, popped the tab with a click.
Pssshhh—
She stared intently as white foam bubbled up. Just as it started overflowing, she jolted and chugged it down.
Gulp gulp.
Then she peered into the can and handed it to my chest with her blunt verdict.
“...Tastes awful. The kind of flavor only dumb monkeys would like.”
Marin pulled a candy from her pocket. She unwrapped it and popped it in her mouth, then leaned her head on my shoulder.
“Haa... Now I feel alive.”
Marin looked up at me and pulled out another candy.
“Mint candy. Want one?”
I hesitated to refuse, then reluctantly took the wrapper and pocketed it.
“I'll finish the rest of this beer first...”
It'd been ages since my last drink—couldn't let a mint ruin the taste.
But the moment I sipped from Marin's half-drunk can,
Ugh...
I realized it was too late. The beer had a faint spicy tang.
She must have spat it back into the can midway. Marin's scent permeated the beer thickly.
Still, hating to waste it, I chugged more.
At that moment, Marin whispered, her face a bit flushed as she eyed the beer.
“...Leave a little for me after you drink.”
“...Didn't you spit it out saying it tasted bad?”
“...Changed my mind.”
“...”
No way just one sip—especially after spitting it out—got her drunk.
Why the hell was she acting like this?
Her inscrutable request left me baffled.
No helping it—I handed the precious beer back to her.
Gulp gulp.
“...Now that I'm drinking it... it's not bad.”
This time, Marin downed the rest and, still thirsty, stuck out her pink tongue to cutely lick the can's rim.
“...Should I grab another one?”
“...Nah. Too expensive.”
...What? Living in a luxury village stacked with cash.
Still, watching Marin pull these inexplicable cheapskate antics, I got the feeling her mood had softened a bit.
So I cautiously asked,
“Miss.”
“Yeah?”
“Feeling a little better?”
Marin licked the droplets from the can and answered a beat late.
“...A tiny bit. Enough to forget this morning's mess for a while...”
“...I see.”
I felt inexplicably sorry. It was my dumb question last night about whether she had friends that started this.
“...But I still don't get it. What do you have to do to make friends really close?”
“...Dunno.”
What did you have to do to get tight with friends? I'd know if I'd ever had a real one...
But I couldn't admit that now. So I bullshitted as best I could.
Let's see, how did those popular guys get close?
“Sharing personal info or building memories together might bring you closer?”
...Probably the best I could come up with.
“...Info? Memories?”
My hard-thought advice didn't seem to impress her. Marin peered up at me with half-lidded, skeptical eyes.
“Like, knowing each other deeply makes you feel closer... Staying up all night drinking or playing truth games to dig into weaknesses.”
Of course, no real experience—just stuff from the internet.
But I'd seen our school's popular crowd get tighter after drinking sessions, so there was some basis.
Even if I was there but never got close to anyone.
“...Staying up all night drinking sounds stupid—I don't wanna. But... sharing weaknesses could work...”
Stroke.
Marin suddenly grabbed the back of my hand and guided it under her skirt.
Her face beet red, she pressed close to my ear and whispered,
“Truth is... I don't wear panties outside either...”
In that instant, my fingers felt soft bare skin. I instinctively traced the slit—it was soaking wet.
My gaze on Marin trembled like an earthquake.
No way—but she'd been going no panties even outside...
Frozen like that, as I fiddled with Marin's slick, squelching pussy,
Marin commanded without a hint of hesitation, gripping my now rock-hard bulge through my pants.
“So let's make a memory just for us. Right here. Right now.”
