Lucifer (9)
Gray hair grown to her shoulders and past them sways like a ripple. Fine strands, a small head, skin as white and flawless as plaster. Eyes that outshine any jewel. A woman so lovely that even the word beautiful falls short of her.
And the sight of such a woman choking for breath, gasping and heaving, truly strikes a deep chord in me.
Her eyes are still burning with hostility and defiance toward me. But that fire is no longer what it once was. You have been tamed to me, little by little, little by little. Dyed through, inch by inch, with my color.
Honestly, I can't say I didn't find it fascinating. Given how fickle I am by nature, this is more than enough time for me to have lost interest in you and turned my gaze elsewhere — and yet even in the middle of subduing you, my fascination with you never runs dry. It wasn't for nothing that I called you special. You must carry some devilish charm that keeps my attention riveted.
"Haahk—hnngh—huk."
I loosen my grip, and only then do you gulp down air. Your ragged breathing. The cold sweat sliding over your skin. Even the faint scent rising off your body — every one of them is a hook sunk into me. They make me want you more, crave you more.
I slide my hand down past your throat. The hollowed groove of your collarbone. The gentle swell of your breasts, nipples tinged with pink. Below them, a slim, taut stomach. A small navel, and the jut of your hip bone where your pelvis begins — charming, that too. And a groin bare of even a single hair. A body of such smooth, beautiful curves that I could map it by touch even beneath a maid's uniform. Yours could stand beside any masterfully carved work of art.
Lucifer.
When did it begin? I'd been keeping my eyes on you all along. Perhaps from the very moment you entered my service as a maid. I'm the type who saves the delicious things for last, I told myself, and so I delayed, and delayed again. Of course, back then I still thought of you as nothing more than a handsome consumable. I never dreamed I'd come to feel this much for you.
It wasn't only because your unreal beauty pleased me. It was the character you showed me — the person you were — and I liked the little sparks that character kept striking off. The insolent tongue that refused to be courted or cowed, unbefitting a maid. And yet, for all that, the deftness with which you read the room and walked the line. The decency that wouldn't surrender its righteousness even through trial. Above all — you understand me. The person. You alone look at me, whole and unblinking, and see not Rihardt de Line but Rihardt. Even having seen the ugliness at my core, you stay perfectly composed. You even wear the expression of so what? A level reaction, empty of either expectation or disappointment. You, who take Rihardt as simply Rihardt.
Perhaps you could become the one person who truly understands me. The regret rises up all over again. Had I known you were this fascinating a person, I would have kept you at my side from the very beginning. How much richer might this desolate, suffocating life of mine have been?
"Lucy, the more I torment you, the wetter that pussy gets, hm?"
It was no idle remark. Thick, clear nectar was, in fact, dripping steadily from between her legs. They say that once a body senses its life is threatened, the urge to breed sharpens by instinct — so was it that, or had Lucy's own dormant masochism simply begun to sprout? Truthfully, it makes no difference either way. What mattered was that filth like this drove Lucy's mind to the brink. Quite effectively, at that.
"Nnh, no — I'm not — I don't feel it because you torment me—"
Rubbing my fingers along the slick trail running down her thigh, I said, "And you're making excuses while it drips like this?"
You press your lips shut. It's the face of someone who knows perfectly well that anything further would be nothing but a filthy excuse. How, I wonder, can one person be this adorable?
With my fingertips I pressed and kneaded around her outer lips. "Hngk?!" — the sensation had cut too sharp for Lucy to swallow her moan. That graceless little reaction of hers set me blazing. I want more of you. I want to see you heave harder, gasp louder. Everything on my terms.
The sadistic urge that should have crested was, oddly, not so great. Perhaps because if I broke you now, I'd never again get to savor this moment as it is. Yes — I'll admit it. I seem to cherish you, Lucy. Those raw, unguarded reactions of yours shake something deep in me. I don't want you to notice, and yet at the same time I catch myself wondering what face you'd make if you did. This is my honest heart, without a single lie mixed in.
Once I judged the area around her sex was soft and ready enough, I brushed her hidden clit, gently. She'd grown sensitive — Lucy's hips gave a jolt. "So that Lucy comes for certain, I'll give her a rehearsal first."
"I-I'm fi…… hnk!?"
Softly, gently, I flicked the clit. The reaction itself was different in kind from anything she'd managed on her own. Well, of course — Lucy only feels the full shock when the part buried beneath the flesh is touched. Barely brushing the surface doesn't register. Look at that. I'd only teased it, and already it was flushed and swelling. Judging by how she has no idea which part of her own body brings pleasure, this really must be her first time touching herself.
"Aahng!" The stimulation ran too deep; tension shot into her hips, and Lucy's pink anus drew tight and puckered. It occurred to me that I'd need to develop that place too, sooner or later. And picturing the humiliation that would flood her face at it, I hardened all on my own. At the sight of me rearing up like a towering spire, Lucy swallowed without thinking — she seemed to be remembering last time. The time I'd ground my cock against her pussy.
"Lucy — may I put it inside this time?"
A flinch. I could feel her body going rigid, tension locking her stiff from head to toe. It was a joke, of course. Lucy's first ought to be something far more dramatic. Far more despairing. But when you react this violently, I can't help wanting to meet your expectations after all.
Idle, almost absentminded, I tapped her entrance with the head of my cock. Such a narrow little hole — I'd need real strength in my hips to force my way in.
"Aahk, ahk — I'm sorry — I'm sorry, y-young master, m-mer — mercyyy, hnk!?"
Lucy, begging forgiveness with tears brimming. She's apologizing even knowing she'd done nothing wrong — purely because I'd shown my displeasure. A base lust for conquest it may be, so why does it grant me such an overwhelming sense of satisfaction? I laughed. A laugh that welled up from somewhere genuine.
"Do you hate me that much?"
"S-something that — big — I c-can't — I can't take i-iit, hnngh."
As I dragged my length along her slit, both my hands toyed with her breasts. Her nipples had gone stiff and pert — I must have struck the right nerves, because the sight was well worth savoring. "I don't think so at all. Lucy just has to try a little harder."
"It'll t-tear, hnk — it'll tear, I-I know it wiiill!"
Every time she tried to spit out an excuse, I gave a nipple a flick, and her sentence collapsed mid-air. She looked ridiculous, and she looked lovely. How am I supposed to hold back like this? I want to pierce you this instant, break the person you are and pound you into the floor — and yet I never quite reach for it, because the joy you give me outweighs even that. The more you flail. The more you resist. The more you seem to shine.
"It's too big and it frightens you — that's what you mean, isn't it?" I grew only more impish, tormenting her nipples and her clit, and under the barrage Lucy couldn't manage even a single coherent answer.
"Yeshh — r-right, haah — th-that's right, sooo, hngh — pleaasee, aaah, do-on't — saay — iit."
Lucy heaved past the point where words and moans could be told apart. A body this responsive, and that's the best her solo attempts could manage. It's so absurd I can't even muster a laugh.
"I want Lucy's first time to be free of pain, too." Hollow words. Truth be told, nothing in this world pleases me more than the sight of Lucy collapsing in tears, and nothing strips her down to that state as efficiently as the taking of her maidenhood. But how you shatter it, at what moment, in what circumstance — that changes the flavor entirely. I will make Lucy kneel conquered before me, begging with her own mouth, offering herself up with her own hands. The torrent of feeling that will crash through her then ought to be savage and explosive enough to drown her brain. Patience is spent toward ends like this — and the sweetness of fruit left to ripen that long will be rapture.
"Th-thaank — youu — hnnh!" While I was lost in these thoughts, Lucy flattered me without meaning a word of it. She's as delicate and brittle as spun glass, so I'll keep the brutal methods to a minimum. It'll chafe — but fortunately, I know exactly what makes her composure crumble in record time.
"And for that, I'll have to widen Lucy's entrance properly first, won't I?"
"……W-widen it?"
At my words, skin that was already porcelain went white to the lips. She seemed convinced I meant to do to her the things I'd done to other women — to be cruel in all the ways I'd been cruel before. Regrettably for her, Lucy is a special toy. I don't do that to her.
I stopped my caresses and crossed the room to where Karen Florence waited. The red-haired nun, bound hand and foot in cuffs and shackles, lifts her eyes to me. Her dulled gaze brims over with jealousy and envy of Lucy. Did Karen's heart for me run deeper than I ever imagined? Or had she broken off some other piece of her mind just to endure the pain I put her through? Either way, so long as Karen does her job, none of it matters. I undid her cuffs and shackles.
"Karen — help me out?"
Karen Florence, kneading feeling back into her wrists and ankles, frowned. "Didn't you say I was the audience?"
"Nothing says the audience can't join in."
"Mmn. And if I help, you'll love me too?"
I laughed. Pitiful didn't begin to cover it — a wretched, warped little devotion. "The work hasn't even started, and you're demanding the payment first?"
"Everything gets paid up front."
Couldn't argue with that, could I? I knelt and pressed my mouth to Karen's lips — a deep, dense kiss, the kind where tongues tangle and even our saliva mingles.
"Puhaaah." Karen Florence exhaled long and low, like a sigh. The way her chest heaved as she caught her breath looked thoroughly satisfied. "Is that enough for you?"
"……Not enough."
"Deposits are supposed to leave you aching for more. That's what makes them deposits."
"You rotten bastard."
"And yet you love it anyway, don't you?"
Karen Florence gave no answer. She only ran the back of her hand across her own lips. "So what do you want me to do?"
"Give Lucy a hand with her masturbation."
Karen Florence's red eyes slid toward Lucy — gleaming and slick with appetite, a beast of prey fixing on its meal.
Lucy. You were startled when I said I was holding off on breaking Karen, weren't you? Truth is, the reason was nothing so grand. I simply couldn't. What trick could anyone use to break a person who is already broken?