Lucifer (5)
Rihardt had held off on breaking Karen.
Going by the Rihardt I knew, that was something that should never have happened.
Or more precisely, the Rihardt from the novel would never have shown this kind of behavior.
He's reversing a decision he already made? That Rihardt?
There was no doubt in my mind that something was brewing behind the scenes.
Was he planning to break Karen even more thoroughly while I let my guard down?
There's no reason to go about it in such a roundabout way when he could just do it openly.
I couldn't trust him. In the novel, once he started something, he saw it through to the end. That was simply his temperament.
Of course, looking at the situation alone, it was a positive development.
Looking at the situation alone, that is.
Nothing has actually been accomplished, so why?
Karen wasn't even in a state of complete submission to Rihardt's will yet.
He may have bent her spirit a little, but she hadn't entirely collapsed.
By my estimate, Rihardt should have tormented Karen for at least several more days.
He needed to systematically demolish her mind until she couldn't so much as show a flicker of defiance.
And pushing myself to the brink watching that happen was supposed to be my opportunity to break him mentally, too.
But he hadn't done it.
He simply took a step back and observed with detached composure.
He's drifting further and further from the Rihardt of the original story.
What was the problem?
He was supposed to be a lunatic with unshakeable convictions.
Could the handful of things I'd done differently from the original have been enough to alter his personality?
If so, nothing could be worse.
As before, he was becoming harder and harder to predict.
"Lucy."
You call my name.
At that call, I trembled and looked at you.
"Yes, Young Master."
"How was it? Last night?"
The man who had branded me, who had gifted me pleasure I couldn't wash away, was asking.
There was so much amusement in his voice that it looked like he was saying it just to rile me up.
"What kind of answer would you like, sir?"
"As honest as possible, if you can manage it."
You asked for it?
I didn't bother hiding what I felt and told him straight.
"I've come to realize that being forced by someone you despise is an utterly filthy experience."
At those words, Rihardt laughed again.
"That's harsh. Even I get hurt by something like that."
Did that look like the face of someone who'd been hurt?
I twisted my features into a scowl and answered in a flat tone.
"I wasn't aware that Rihardt de Line placed any particular value on my feelings."
"I told you before, didn't I? Lucy is special."
"Being special to you is not exactly something I welcome."
"Cold as ever."
"Before you say that, why don't you reflect on what you've done to me."
Rihardt didn't answer right away.
He stroked his chin, appearing lost in thought.
"Well, why not? The more affection I give, the more Lucy will come to give it back."
"Young Master. Affection that is excessively one-sided and skewed rarely reaches its intended recipient."
Rihardt paid my sarcasm no mind.
He spoke with utter confidence.
"Then I'll just keep giving it until it does."
A declaration, plain and simple.
A chill ran down my spine.
I had no desire to become Rihardt's treasured possession, and I had no intention of giving him affection either.
And yet why did it feel like things would turn out exactly as he said?
"...I see."
"You do, don't you, Miss Lucifer."
That insufferable face.
I would give anything to drive my fist into it just once.
"Shall we get up from the bed, then? We have a whole day ahead of us."
I started to rise along with Rihardt, then stopped.
He looked at me as if puzzled.
"What is it?"
"Forgive the impertinence, but might I ask where my maid uniform is?"
"Ah, I threw that out. It was soaked through and reeked anyway. Unwearable."
It didn't smell that bad, thank you very much.
"Even so, if you discard it, I'll have nothing appropriate to wear."
At my words, he smiled.
It was a smile steeped in menace.
"That's why I had a new maid uniform made for you."
"I'm sorry?"
Since when?
I shuffled along behind Rihardt, dragging my feet.
He spoke to me with a perfectly composed expression.
"You're walking slowly."
That's entirely because of the maid uniform you gave me, you absolute bastard!
I swallowed the scream rising in my throat.
If I opened my mouth carelessly, there was no telling what new punishment that man would devise.
I pressed both hands down hard on the hem of my skirt and exhaled a shaking breath.
Why am I like this?
Because the hem of the maid uniform was absurdly short.
The maid uniforms worn by the other female staff typically reached down to the knee.
But the skirt of this uniform Rihardt had prepared sat somewhere between hip and mid-thigh.
One wrong step and my crotch would be on full display.
Judging by the exposure alone, this wasn't a maid's outfit so much as a maid costume play.
On top of that, Rihardt had ordered me to remove my undergarments entirely.
Wearing this outfit with no bra, no panties, was more stimulating than I could have imagined.
The rough fabric of the uniform brushing against my nipples until they shrank and hardened.
Every time the wind blew, the skirt lifting and my breasts bouncing free beneath it.
What should have ended with a glimpse of panties could, in an instant, expose everything between my legs.
Rihardt de Line and Karen Florence had already seen me in far more shameful states countless times, so comparatively that was manageable.
Rihardt had never been the type to share my lewd behavior with anyone else, and Karen Florence had no opportunity to do so in the first place.
But the other servants were a different matter.
Whatever they witnessed would spread through the entire estate like wildfire.
A maid who wandered the manor without underwear. Lucifer.
Wasn't that the kind of story that would bury me socially and then some?
Rihardt's insidious thoughtfulness, designed solely to maximize my shame, brought tears dangerously close to the surface.
Though I held them back, because I had a feeling Rihardt would enjoy seeing me cry.
He approached me as I wrestled with these tangled emotions, grabbed my ass, and grinned.
Since I was bare beneath the fabric, the sensation of his hand cupping me was vividly, unmistakably clear.
"That scared of being seen by someone else?"
"...Let me ask you the reverse. Do you truly want others to see how depraved I am?"
"No, I don't. Which is exactly why you'll be punished if someone does see."
You insane bastard.
You dressed me like this, and now you expect me not to be seen?
Whatever my expression conveyed, Rihardt simply said what he wanted to say.
"You'll be punished severely."
His voice dropped low enough to make me cower.
Like a dog tucking its tail, I lowered my eyes.
"More importantly, what's on the schedule today?"
The hand toying with my backside felt obscenely deliberate.
I suppressed the moan threatening to escape my lips and answered.
"Preparing the supplies needed for our visit to the capital, as far as I'm aware."
"Hmm, you know your duties well."
"Isn't that my job?"
"Very efficient, Lucy. Shall we go see the horses first, then?"
He knew I was terrified of the stables and said it anyway.
I was about to snap back when I remembered that Rihardt had killed Karen's beloved horse, Flee, along with the stable hand Sean and his daughter Bianca.
No one knew they were dead.
No one seemed to be looking for them, either.
Rihardt must have quietly handled the matter of Sean's disappearance himself.
That was why this atmosphere of casual indifference had settled over everything.
Even if the stable hand Sean had vanished without a word, there were plenty of laborers to fill his position.
I was terrified by how thorough Rihardt was.
And that was precisely why his decision to hold off on breaking Karen unsettled me even more.
"You look grim."
Rihardt studied my face and pinched my cheek.
What do you expect? In this situation, a bright expression would be the strange one.
"Given what I'm wearing, sir."
"Stop being so self-conscious. Why not just go about things naturally?"
"You're saying that while looking at what I have on?"
"What's wrong with how you look? You're nothing but charming to my eye."
A wet, obscene sound.
My knees nearly buckled.
It was because of the thick, long finger pushing into the cleft between my legs.
You demented son of a bitch!
He hadn't stopped at groping my ass. He'd gone straight for the penetration.
In a corridor where people walked by, in broad view!
I whipped my head around to stare at Rihardt.
And through clenched teeth, I spoke.
"...Young Master, are you in your right mind?"
"I do love watching your elegant face fall apart."
"What about your own reputation, sir—"
"Lucy, let's set trivial concerns aside. Wouldn't you rather focus on feeling my fingers?"
My heart pounded so hard it hurt.
This wasn't an enclosed space. The people who could see us weren't limited to a select few.
A wide-open corridor, a place anyone could pass through at any moment, and he was doing this to me here.
It was humiliating. Degrading.
I wanted to hide myself away right now more than anything.
My face must have been burning scarlet.
And through all of it, Rihardt's fingers were methodically finding and exploiting every weakness in my body.
I'd thought my threshold for this kind of thing had risen considerably since yesterday.
Apparently it had dropped instead, because I felt everything without mercy.
My body had become so hypersensitive that it registered pleasure far more readily than before.
Wet sounds filled the air as my pussy gushed, soaking itself.
The wetter I became, the faster Rihardt's probing fingers moved.
"Getting this soaked this quickly? You must be enjoying it quite a lot."
"...Hahh."
Could we finish this brazen act without anyone catching us?
If it were brief, maybe. But dragged out this persistently, it was all but impossible.
Separate from the humiliation and panic, there was a part of me that was aroused by this situation.
"You really do feel everything, don't you, Lucy."
Rihardt's mocking laugh made me feel wretched.
I bit down hard and fought desperately to suppress my moans, but it wasn't easy.
"Hahk, hnngh."
"Ah, what a shame. Just when I was enjoying myself, it sounds like someone's coming."
Click, click.
Footsteps echoed from far down the corridor.
I clenched my fists and grabbed fistfuls of my skirt.
And in the hope that Rihardt would stop, I stared at him and opened my mouth.
"Y-Young Master."
"Mm? What is it?"
Another obscene squelch.
"P-please, could you s-stop now, I'm beggh—"
He spoke in a leisurely, unhurried tone.
"It'd be a waste to just stop here, so how about I give you a wish voucher?"
A wish voucher?
What kind of depraved scheme are you planning with that?
I tried to refuse.
Click, click, click.
But the footsteps were drawing closer.
The shrinking window of time made me anxious.
"I'll t-take it, so stop, plehease!?"
Before I could even finish the sentence, Rihardt pulled his fingers out in one swift motion.
The withdrawal was so rough that I couldn't help but feel the jolt of it.
I glared at him through ragged breaths.
"I'm delighted, Lucy. To receive your wish voucher."
I hope you die.
Truly.