I Am the Cumrag Trashy Little Bro (2)
A horde of monsters had surged right up to the barrier. But the military funds to hire mercenaries and buy weapons for the soldiers were woefully short.
The atmosphere in the conference hall hung heavy and grim. Despair-laced sighs erupted from the old retainers' lips.
Even Isabella, the acting family head who always projected unbreakable strength before her vassals, couldn't conceal her exhaustion.
Behind that solemn, cutthroat round table chamber...
Lia's mind—standing at Werner's back—was utterly consumed by last night's beastly rutting. The scorching, massive sensation of him clamping her fleeing hips, growling like a monster as he slammed deep into her womb.
Ignoring her desperate pleas to stop, forcing his way in... that thing of his. Shockingly huge and hot... and even pretty.
'You fucking bastard. I'll kill you, Werner Kraus...'
Lia gnawed her lip, glaring daggers at the back of Werner's head.
Morning sunlight poured through the window, shattering across his hair. The dazzling platinum blonde—proof of his Kraus blood—sparkled with noble perfection.
The scum who'd shredded his personal maid's virginity last night and flooded her womb with sticky seed now sat bolt upright, observing the meeting like the world's most exalted noble.
'That useless dogshit. Can't even swing a sword worth a damn, you half-baked lord...'
She cursed him in her head. But her gaze clung stickily to Werner's sharp nose bridge and icy jawline.
She hated it. Yet staring at that exquisite face, even last night's savage violation felt like his brutal declaration of love.
The fury she'd forcibly dredged up soon dissolved into humid pleasure, leaving her hollow.
She knew damn well whose lover she needed to become to escape her wretched maid life. She'd die before returning to orphanage scraps, dreamed of climbing ranks even if it meant whoring herself out.
'Werner! Werner! Werner!... Wer, youuu...'
Lia swallowed hard, glaring at him again. She hunted for flaws, resentment boiling to murder over last night's vivid memories—but at the same time... Lia grew aroused.
This morning, before the meeting, under his insistence, she'd pretended reluctance and sucked his cock. Her tongue traced her upper and lower teeth behind sealed lips. She could almost taste him.
The only merits: a pretty face and killer sex—a trashy dog lord's... cock flavor. The world's vilest, sweetest dick taste.
That's when Eric, glancing between Werner and Isabella, smirked vilely and spoke.
"I'm curious how my little brother—who boasted yesterday he'd solve the military funds within a week—plans to fix this dire financial mess."
Blatant mockery for all to see. A ploy to trash the incompetent wastrel before the retainers and shore up his own standing.
The old vassals were just tsking and shaking their heads—
—when Werner slowly turned his head. In that instant, his cool, arrogant blue eyes locked briefly with Lia standing behind him.
Her breath hitched. These weren't the eyes of the man who'd jammed his cock in his personal maid's mouth that morning and laughed like a pig.
Eyes that viewed human lives like insects—perfectly authoritative, utterly dominant noble eyes. The languid lips beneath that indifferent gaze oozed such haughty decadence that Lia unconsciously twisted her thighs together.
'Ah...'
The eye contact lasted a split second, but a scorching heat whooshed through Lia's lower belly. Her nape burned; inner thigh muscles quivered.
'So what about that face? Big deal if he's handsome—!'
She screamed inwardly. But her lips parched, and with no panties, sticky slick already seeped between her tender folds. Like a bitchy sex slave in heat craving her master's touch, her secret spot—in the heart of the conference hall—throbbed lewdly, fully aroused by Werner's face alone.
Werner withdrew his gaze from Lia, propped his chin, and spoke low.
"No cash for mercenaries? Then first exterminate the rat bastards draining the territory dry."
A voice icily cold, crystalline, without a hint of tremor.
Silence crashed over the room like a bucket of ice water.
"Northern Iron Mine's output dropped 30% last month, yet labor and upkeep claims rose 20%. A miracle impossible without blatant embezzlement in the middle, wouldn't you say? Don't you agree, Treasurer?"
Werner addressed the Treasurer without glancing at Eric—but everyone in the family knew whose orders the Treasurer followed.
"...Wh-what?!"
Eric's face drained to dirt-gray in an instant.
His mocking smile vanished; thick cold sweat beaded his brow. Werner hadn't named him outright, but the thief's foot burns first.
Not just Eric was stunned. Isabella, who'd been pinching her brow, stared wide-eyed at her little brother; the retainers traded aghast glances.
The wastrel they'd pegged as clueless about territory finances had pinpointed exact figures and stabbed the embezzlement's heart.
"Th-that's! The Treasurer botched the document compilation!"
Eric flailed to his feet, jabbing a finger at the hapless Treasurer.
"What do you mean? E-Eric! How dare you...!"
The Treasurer gaped at Eric in horror. Betrayed by his patron's tail-cutting, his eyes darted wildly.
Under Isabella's piercing icy stare, the hamster-sized Treasurer trembled like an aspen and flung himself prostrate before her.
"F-forgive me, Acting Head! I-I'll scour the ledgers top to bottom and correct the figures right away!"
"See to it. With battle looming, I won't punish your error just yet."
The groveling Treasurer kowtowing; Eric slumping back into his seat with a ragged sigh of relief and rage. The embezzlers' ironclad alliance cracked wide open.
Lia, right behind Werner, held her breath.
His trashy image ran so deep that most retainers were shocked by his words but chalked it up to coincidence—and with embezzlement low on the priority list, it fizzled into a non-issue.
But only Lia saw it. Werner's secret smile.
He could've cornered Eric harder but instead sowed distrust and fissures between the Treasurer in the interim.
Lia stared blankly at Werner's broad back.
She'd seen him only as trash. Just a pretty-faced, big-dicked sex machine. Yet reading the board in a flash, manipulating enemy psyches... he was the noble straight out of her fantasies.
'What the hell? Is that really Werner? Not the moron I knew...'
Swish.
'...Hngh?!'
Werner's left hand—lounging back, casually flipping documents—snaked unseen under the table into Lia's maid skirt.
The hand that'd brimmed with charisma moments ago now kneaded her smooth inner thighs with vulgar brutality.
Werner's fingertips brushed the soft pussy flesh of Lia, who'd obeyed his morning order: no panties.
'N-no... Young master, please...'
Lia's heart thundered. Yet in this solemn conference hall, Werner boldly began violating his personal maid's most intimate depths.
'Th-this beast of a man...! He's just a horny trash-dog bastard after all!'
The awe and illusions from before shattered. He wasn't some Kraus-worthy noble. Just a deranged perv who got off fingering his maid's hole under the table mid-meeting.
Fierce rage. Crushing humiliation.
'Hngt... Wh-why does it feel so good...'
A hand that couldn't even wield a training sword without knights' mockery. Yet why was it this masterful at toying with a woman's secrets?
Werner's thumb crushed Lia's stiffly swollen clit.
Lia panicked, burned with shame, seethed with anger, dreaded Isabella catching them—but despite it all, her juices gushed, soaking Werner's fingers.
Werner plunged his drenched fingers into her pussy, rubbing lewdly. Then the sticky squelching began.
Squelch squelch squelch squelch squiiiish——