The Duchess's Shameful Begging
A heavy silence descended upon the bed in the top-tier VIP room following my sudden withdrawal.
"Wha... what...?"
Duchess Rozena's red lips flapped open and shut like a carp's. Anyone could see she was fidgeting uncontrollably. Between her wide-spread legs, her red, sensitive pussy—which had taken a man inside it for the first time—continued to gush sticky fluids without respite. The slick mess soaking the pristine white sheets was stark proof of just how intensely aroused she was.
But was it that fragile pride as a duke ruling the demon capital holding her back? "Th-that is... ah, hnn..." She stammered helplessly, unable to demand I thrust back in or order me around aggressively.
I gazed down at her calmly, quietly reading the situation. Ah, this woman. She's definitely different from the other demon women who fuck like beasts out there. Unlike the typical demons obsessed with pinning men down by force and ravaging them roughly, she was a woman who valued her own nobility and dignity. That's why she couldn't bring herself to suggest going again first in such a vulgar way—she just trembled with her flustered face and hypersensitive body.
Seeing her in that pitiful yet erotic state stirred an impulse in me to tease her even more mischievously.
"Since Your Grace commanded me to stop, this lowly male prostitute will take his leave."
I spoke in an exaggeratedly polite tone, zipping up my pants with a loud zzzip while she clutched at my waist.
"Then I'll step out for now and return to serve you tomorrow morning. Please rest well."
"Wha...? W-wait...!"
It was just as I turned decisively to step off the bed—
Grab...
A faint tremble came from behind. Looking back, I saw Duchess Rozena—still panting, flushed from the afterglow of pleasure—reaching out with a slender hand to delicately, oh-so-carefully grasp the collar of my shirt.
"W-wait... stop..."
Her voice was a mosquito-like whisper, barely audible.
Pretending utter ignorance, I halted and turned. "Yes, Your Grace? Did you call for me?"
When I asked with maximum courtesy and deference, she gripped the hem of my shirt tighter, her face burning red. What was amusing was her other hand. The one not clutching my collar had slipped discreetly under the sheets, furtively rubbing her drenched, twitching crotch.
Squelch... squelch...
Evidently regretting the fading aftershocks of that intense pleasure, she was gently soothing her pussy entrance with her fingers—and it was all plain as day to me. She thought she was hiding it, but she couldn't muffle the slick sounds of her arousal-coated fingers.
For now, I decided to pretend not to notice that adorable little transgression.
"Um... th-that is..."
Avoiding my eyes, she mumbled incoherently, her hand still working her crotch without pause.
Swallowing a laugh, I pressed her even more wickedly. "What seems to be the matter? Didn't you clearly order me to stop just now? Is there some discomfort in your noble body?"
Her shoulders twitched at my brazen question. I could see the fierce internal battle: the bitch-in-heat instinct begging for my cock again versus the dignity of a duke ruling the demon capital.
After much fumbling and lip-smacking, she finally squeezed out an excuse. "H-how can you just leave so irresponsibly...! As a male prostitute from a top-class brothel... you should... serve me... to the very end...!"
I bowed deeply to her, hiding the wicked smile tugging at my lips.
"I apologize. My skills are woefully inadequate and dull; I failed to fully satisfy Your great Grace."
I continued in an obsequiously polite tone. "I offered my body to the best of my meager ability, but it seems my pitiful technique fell far short of Your Grace's lofty expectations. Please forgive my incompetence and disloyalty this night."
Her red eyes quivered with panic. I drove the wedge home with a decisive line.
"I'll withdraw now and return to serve you tomorrow morning. If you require another man to attend you through the night, I'll summon the other excellent male prostitutes waiting outside right away."
"Wh-what...! O-other male prostitutes...!"
Her pale cheeks flushed crimson in an instant. Clutching my collar tighter with a mix of shame, anger, and burning lust, even the hand secretly rubbing her crotch froze stiff.
"You bastard...! You know full well, and yet you tease me like this...!"
Her resentful voice dripped with the sweet, bitchy whine she couldn't hide.
Still bowed, I met her gaze head-on with utter shamelessness. "I beg your pardon, but this fool is by nature dim-witted and stupid; I cannot presume to fathom Your great Grace's profound intentions."
I deliberately flicked my eyes toward her soaked crotch, then locked onto hers again. "I'm a dense idiot who needs things spelled out directly. When Your Grace speaks in circles like this, how could a vulgar male prostitute like me grasp your hidden desires?"
"...!"
At my blatant provocation, Duchess Rozena fell silent as a clam, her lips quivering. Her fragile pride choked her, preventing her from voicing the vulgar plea to shove a man's cock back inside.
I whispered low to her as she fidgeted desperately on the bed, pussy still leaking fluids. "So if there's anything you wish me to do, don't beat around the bush—command me directly."
Under the overt pressure, she bit her trembling lips hard. The only sound in the room was the lewd drip drip of sticky honey trickling from between her spread legs.
Teetering on the razor's edge between lofty pride and bestial lust, she finally squeezed her eyes shut in shame and whispered in a crawling voice.
"P-put it... back in..."
"Pardon? This fool didn't quite hear. Could you say that once more?"
I cupped my ear with exaggerated theatrics—a blatant, intentional mockery.
Hiding her shame-buried face in her hands, she gasped desperately and pleaded again in a quavering voice. "P-please put it back in..."
"Pardon...? Put what back in where? Without a subject, this dull, vulgar wretch can't comprehend Your Grace's deep will."
For a mere male prostitute to act so insolently toward a great noble ruling the demon capital was unthinkable—treason punishable by instant death at a mere gesture. Her pupils dilated in shock as she stared up at me.
But her body reacted utterly opposite her noble reason. Trembling with humiliation and degradation, her red, sensitive pussy gushed even more fluids than before.
Squelch... squiiiish...
Her deeply buried true nature had been perfectly stimulated by my impudent teasing. The perverse shame of groveling to a lowly male prostitute she should despise was converting straight into pleasure, heating her inner walls even hotter and lewder.
I prolonged her agony, listening to the obscenely wet sounds soaking the sheets.
"Unless Your Grace precisely commands what to put where, I'll take my leave. See you tomorrow morning."
"N-no...! D-don't go...! Hnnng...! Ah...♡"
As I fully turned to exit, she—who had utterly surrendered to pleasure—desperately clutched my pant leg. Tears welling in her red eyes, she gazed up at me pleadingly and finally spat out the vulgar words she'd never uttered in her life.
"Y-your lower parts... your cock... put it in my pussy! Please thrust it in again...!♡"
It was the perfect plea of a fallen bitch. Hearing that lewd, direct command spill from the proud duke's red lips made my cock throb rigidly, veins bulging.
No longer hiding my wicked, thick smile, I bowed courteously to her.
"Demian shall obey Your great Grace's command."
No sooner had the words left my mouth than I mounted her like a beast once more, mercilessly slamming my rigid cock deep into the red hole she craved so desperately.