The Heroine Is Lewdly in Heat (2)
Rub, rub, rub... Knead... Grind... Press...!
"Ah... Haa... Ah...!"
In the dimly lit corridor, illuminated only by faint light, lewd moans echoed softly. At the source was the hero, Emilia. She had hiked up her thin negligee and yanked down her panties, exposing her breasts, ass, and crotch as she squatted on the floor, lost in masturbation.
She kneaded her breasts, pinched her nipples. She scratched and rubbed her areolas, or gingerly circled her clit with her fingertips, shuddering with each touch. Unable to hold back, she plunged her middle finger into her pussy and stirred the slick folds, layering stimulation on stimulation...
But it still wasn't enough.
What's... wrong with me? Why is my body like this...?
It's frustrating, so frustrating... I wanna cum... I wanna cum so bad... Why...!
The more frantically she worked her hands, the closer she got to a faint climax. But it was so weak and fleeting that it offered no satisfaction—instead, it only teased her, stoking her desire even higher.
——But what could she do about it?
——What was there for her to do?
"Ah, aaah... Ah...!"
She pulled her middle finger from her pussy and stretched her hand out, grinding her sensitive little nub with firm, insistent strokes. But all it did was heighten her agony—no release in sight.
I wanna cum. I wanna cum. I wanna cum. I wanna cum so hard it satisfies me. I want to burst this heat and pleasure from deep inside my body.
"Haa, haa, haa, haat...!!"
Before she knew it, Emilia had abandoned all pretense of dignity. She rubbed her body against the wall right beside her—grinding her nipples and breasts against it, twisting her hips to press her pussy there too. But it wasn't working.
Her eyes, wild with impatience and devoid of any patience left, darted around desperately.
...And that's when she spotted it: a bizarre statue standing in one corner of the corridor. More precisely, her gaze locked onto the sturdy black pedestal beneath it.
......That.
It looks like it would feel so good...
If it could support a statue that size without issue, her own weight would be nothing. And that edge—on closer inspection, it seemed either intentionally designed that way or worn smooth from years of use, rounded just right. If it had been sharp and pointed enough to cut, she might have hesitated. But at this bluntness, pressing against it shouldn't hurt.
Yeah. That's it. That... would feel so good...
"Haa, haa, haa..."
Staggering like a woman possessed, Emilia lurched toward the pedestal. Compared to the statue's size, the base was generously proportioned—no risk of interference with what she had in mind.
"Ah... Aaah..."
She couldn't hold back. Couldn't hold back. Couldn't hold back.
Emilia yanked her panties the rest of the way off, tossing them carelessly atop the statue. Spreading her crotch wide, she positioned her pussy slit against one edge of the pedestal. As she let her weight settle, she felt her mound press firmly against the cold stone.
Ngh... So hard... So cold... Feels so good...!
Her slit seemed to rejoice in delight. But the thrill was fleeting. It was just the novelty of the sensation—nothing that addressed the root of her problem.
"Ngh...!"
Twitch... Rub, rub, rub... Press, press, press...
Bracing her arms, Emilia rocked her hips back and forth, grinding her pussy diligently against the pedestal's edge. Her lewdly aroused slit savored the friction, sending sweet waves of pleasure through her. It wasn't as precise as her fingers, but the broad, even pressure covered areas fingers couldn't reach, delivering a novel ecstasy.
But that was all. Still... not enough to quench the blaze raging in her lower belly...
"Ngh... Mm... Mmm aaaahhh...♥!!"
Press, press, press... Rub, rub, rub...
Harder, harder, harder. She could feel her soft labia grinding and parting. Her clit, from root to tip, pressed and squished against the stone. The moans she'd been stifling until moments ago now poured out freely, unfiltered.
Feels good. Feels good. Feels good. But still not enough. Not nearly enough. Please, more. Just a little more...
"Mm, haang, mmmuuu~~~♥♥"
Her pussy juices, drooling lewdly, left glossy trails along the pedestal's edge. Her moans kept spilling out, but she had no spare capacity to worry about someone hearing—or seeing.
But even this wasn't getting her to the orgasm she craved. Not by a long shot.
Please... Please... More... Just a bit more...!
Emilia hugged a twisted branch-like protrusion of the statue for support, shifting her center of gravity back as she straddled the pedestal. What had been mere pressure on her labia and clit now saw the blunt corner prying her slit open, digging deep into her inner folds and the entrance of her hole.
A jolt of pleasure shot up her spine straight to her brain.
"~~~~~~~~~~!!"
Emilia threw her head back, her moan rising even higher. The unyielding statue didn't budge under her weight as she ground her breasts and nipples against its limb-like extension, layering on more sweet sensations...
* * *
Haa... Haa... Haa... Haa... Haa... Haa...
Ngh, ngh...!
——Still, Emilia's masturbation continued.
Using the pedestal's edge was a step up from her previous efforts. But only a step. It fell woefully short of extinguishing the inexplicable dark-red desire burning inside her.
So she varied her approach, staying immersed in the act.
She pressed her slit against a side edge, grinding until it hurt as it wedged between her folds. She turned around, rubbing her plump ass against it for new stimulation. She hefted her heavy breasts in her hands, licking her nipples with her tongue or suckling them between her lips.
But nothing satisfied her. No matter what she did, what position she tried, how depraved she got.
It felt good, but never enough to reach fulfillment.
"Haat, haat, haa..."
What do I do... What do I do...?
It's like my body's on fire... I can't take it... I can't hold out...!
Now back in her original squat, Emilia frantically rubbed her clit against the blunt corner. She lifted her pussy and dropped it. Lifted and dropped. Pressed down hard. Worked it up and down to ensure the edge peeled back her hood and stimulated the sensitive root beneath.
With both hands, she pulled and spread the top of her pussy, exposing her clit fully.
A noble lady. A hero. Nearly half-naked, hands buried in her crotch like this—it was obscenely vulgar. But Emilia had no self-control left for such concerns.
As her reason frayed, a clanking sound reached her ears. The heavy clank of armor. It was already close, just beyond the corridor's bend.
Yet Emilia, engrossed in her self-pleasure, hadn't noticed until now.
She tensed for a moment, then remembered something and glanced down the hall. Soon, the clanking revealed a soldier in thin armor. But she knew it was just a golem shaped like a person.
Proving it, the knight showed no reaction to Emilia's shameless edge-grinding. It simply patrolled onward as usual.
This guard golem attacked intruders within range... but ignored registered individuals. Emilia was on the list, as Maid Chief Hilde had assured her. No need to hide or feel shame.
Instead of panic, her eyes fixed on the sword at the golem's waist.
An ordinary iron sword, commonplace anywhere. But its grip looked perfectly thick, promising a satisfying hold.
——That thing. Long and just slender enough. It might fit perfectly inside her pussy. It could deliver the satisfaction her edge play couldn't.
——I want it. I need it. I need that. No, anything will do. Please, make this itch stop. Extinguish this flame of desire, whatever it takes...!
Step...
Emilia slid off the slick pedestal and crept cautiously toward the patrolling knight. Her misty, fogged eyes were no longer those of sanity.