Chapter 117
Chapter 117
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Translator: uly
Chapter: 117
Chapter Title: Squishy Prisoner #3
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I, Theo Gospel—or Lee Seong-eum.
Even counting both lives together, the number of times I'd been with a woman could be counted on one hand. Twice with Elga, once with Mirna.
Even for someone like me, there was one thing I could state with absolute certainty: Elga's body was a masterpiece among masterpieces, designed purely to drain a man dry.
Her temperature ran hot, she was drenched and slick, and her toned body gripped me perfectly.
The walls of her pussy nibbling greedily at my cock gave off a perilous thrill, like I could lose it and cum any second if I let my guard down.
No.
I couldn't cum yet.
That mistake with Mirna came to mind.
During my second time with Mirna Draco, I'd gotten so worked up and felt so good that I barely thrust a few times before blowing my load and passing out.
She hadn't shown it, but Mirna might've been thinking deep down, *What the hell? Is he premature?*
So I gritted my teeth, fighting back the surging urge to release.
Squelch, squelch, squish, squish.
"Ngh, haa, ahh, aaah…! Stop, stop it, stop, I said stop…!"
But today's Elga felt even hotter, her insides clamping down on my cock so tight I couldn't hold back. Her reactions were intense, too.
Did she like the captive-rape play that much?
I'd heard lovers did role-play to spice things up and kill the boredom. Experiencing it firsthand, I could see why—it really worked.
It felt like I was truly raping Elga, sending chills of criminal guilt mixed with the rush of conquest.
"Urgh—."
But it felt too damn good. I couldn't hold out and ended up unleashing inside her.
Grabbing her breasts tight, I buried myself as deep as possible and pumped thick ropes of cum straight into her womb.
Spurt, spurt.
I could vividly feel more cum than usual gushing from my cock—an endless release that seemed like it would never stop.
Of course, with Elga's soft, warm, heavenly body wrapped around me, I felt like I could stay like this forever.
Sliiiide.
Then I felt her body slip from my grasp.
In the afterglow of my orgasm, when my strength faltered for a moment, Elga glared at me fiercely and reached out.
Crunch.
Her soft hands clamped around my throat.
"Die…!!!"
With that sharp cry, my body was flung off the bed and crashed to the floor.
Thud—my head smacked the ground, stars exploding in my vision, but thankfully the thick velvet carpet saved me from a concussion.
Of course, concussion wasn't the biggest problem right now.
"Die…!!!"
The real issue was Elga, her blue eyes bloodshot for some reason, strangling me with all her might.
My vision darkened. For a split second, I wondered stupidly if this was just extending the captive play, but no—this strength and attitude were no joke.
Something had gone wrong—.
I flailed my limbs, trying to pry free from her grip.
But escaping the hands that could wrestle a lion barehanded? Impossible.
"Urghhh—."
I squeezed out a voice. Trying to chant a spell to stop her, but with my throat blocked, not a word came out.
A mage's incantations required precise casting. No matter how high my circles or how great my spells, it was useless like this.
"Stuhp, pleuhse stuhp…."
Even as consciousness faded, I kept thrashing my limbs to hold on.
And I struggled to form words with my mouth.
"Nyaow, nyaaow—."
Nyaong nyaong.
Our safeword for ending the weird master-servant dynamic between us. Say it, and any play or situation stopped. Like a magic spell.
"Nyaow, urk, nyaow…."
"……."
It must've worked—her furrowed brows, twisted like a demon's, began to relax.
At the same time, her grip loosened, and blood and oxygen rushed back to my head.
"Cough, cough—."
As I gulped down the breath I'd been denied, hacking away, Elga—still straddling me—stared at her palms and muttered.
"No…. This isn't, it wasn't on purpose—. There was definitely a man holding me just now. I was a captive…."
"Urghhh…."
I rubbed my throat, wincing at the feeling it might've crushed my windpipe. That's when Elga, misreading my expression, cried out in panic.
"No…! It wasn't on purpose…!"
She grabbed my shoulders, her grip weak—nothing like the force that had just strangled me.
"It wasn't on purpose, there really was someone just now…! Some bastard like Voldemore, trying to rape me, defile House Liones…!"
"Urgh…."
I wanted to say something, but my throat was too raw to speak. Did my unintended silence hit her hard?
Elga clung to me, pleading with a terrified face.
"I'm sorry…! Forgive me…! It wasn't on purpose, really…! Uu, uu…!"
She must've thought I was furious from being choked, ready to lash out at her.
Like, *I can't do this anymore,* storming out and never seeing her again.
I was angry, sure. But her expression—that desperate look from orphanage kids—left me more baffled than mad.
Her whole body screamed, *Don't abandon me—.*
The usual Elga would never apologize or beg forgiveness. Her pride wouldn't allow it.
But seeing her now, whimpering like a stray dog doused in cold water, I knew anger could wait.
Before her panic caused bigger trouble, I needed to calm her.
So instead of my broken voice, I used my still-working hands to reach for her cheek.
"Eek…!"
Expecting a slap, she flinched and shrank back.
But I just gently stroked her flushed, tear-streaked cheek.
Nothing beats human warmth for soothing someone.
* * *
Luckily, my windpipe hadn't shattered or crushed.
Just some strain on my vocal cords from the choking—temporary hoarseness.
I'd nearly been hanged alive, which was horrifying, but it hadn't happened.
The problem was this.
"I won't do it again…! Really, really, it wasn't on purpose…! Forgive me…."
Elga pressed her face to my lap, clinging to my waist and trembling. Ten minutes straight.
The shock of nearly killing me by strangling seemed overwhelming.
I was the one who'd almost died, yet here she was—the perpetrator—more shaken and out of it than me.
I had to stroke her hair like petting a cat, comforting her.
"It's okay. Nothing actually happened, right?"
"Uu, uuu…."
Her tears soaked my lap.
If I got up or stopped comforting her now, she might spiral into an endless pit.
Truth was, it was partly my fault.
I'd assumed she loved captive play.
But looking back, she seemed genuinely terrified, fighting for real—maybe?
I had no idea why.
Something I didn't know, probably.
"I didn't realize you truly hated it. It's mostly my fault, so let's call it even? My throat getting choked and—."
"Uuuu…!"
Total panic. Better not mention the choking.
Of course—staring death in the face up close, knowing *she* was the one doing it. Massive trauma.
She might actually break, turn full villain, wreck everything, and lead to a bad end.
I was in a real bind.
Maybe warm tea to calm her? But as I tried to move, she yanked my waist.
"You're gonna abandon me…!"
"No, I just thought some tea might help…."
"Liar—. You'll say that and walk out the door. I messed up…. Forgive me…!"
No way I could get tea like this.
First, I pulled the blanket over her naked body to keep her warm. Then kept stroking her hair until she relaxed.
How much time passed?
"……."
She'd calmed a bit—switched from apologies to silence. Still trembling, though.
"Better now?"
"……."
Instead of answering, she hugged my waist tighter. It was starting to hurt. At this rate, she'd crush my gut instead of my throat.
Of course, I didn't say that. Instead, I asked what I'd been wondering.
"I know you didn't mean it. Some misunderstanding or trigger, right? Can you tell me why?"
"……."
No answer.
"You don't have to if you don't want."
Giving her space, she finally whispered like a sniffling kid.
"There was a guy… who took me captive, tried to force me to bear his child…."
Sounds like me. But then she said something unexpected.
"Viscount Voldemore…."
"Viscount Voldemore?"
No idea. I'd remember anyone from the novel, so minor character.
"That coward ambushed the negotiation with soldiers—. Took me captive. Nothing happened, but…."
She told her story in bits. Voldemore had done exactly what I'd done—captured her to force a pregnancy.
She was twelve then.
A shocking experience at twelve—trauma made sense.
Maybe her masochistic kinks stemmed from that fear.
Childhood stuff shapes people all the time.
So, to sum up: my captive play triggered childhood memories, panicking her into thinking I was a real bad guy and trying to kill me?
「Calm Situation Assessment!
Gain experience via Talent 《Composed Thinking》.
All Job Experience +5」
Got it.
"It really wasn't on purpose…. Believe me…."
I had no clue she'd been through that.
So much I didn't know about Elga.
Plenty to reflect on. My knowledge came mostly from the novel's Elga.
But she wasn't a character—she was a real, living person.
Voldemore? Minor to me. But in her life, he loomed large as a nightmare.
I'd thought she loved fighting, always confident. Wrong.
"I realize now how little I know about you."
I glanced at the window. Dusk filtered through the curtains—dinnertime, but her state…
I lay back with her in my arms. She hugged me like a doll, refusing to let go.
Fluff, fluff.
Her body was still warm and soft. Smelled nice, too.
"Never knew you'd gone through that."
"…Of course not. Never told anyone."
Couldn't exactly share easily.
For iron-blooded House Liones, showing emotional scars was weakness.
"Theo, sorry. Wasn't on purpose. I messed up…."
Yet here she was, baring her weakness, apologizing repeatedly. Must mean she really liked me.
No clue what about me did this, but I knew what to do.
Just hold her. I patted her back and whispered seriously in her ear.
"My fault too. I'll be careful from now on."
"…From now on?"
"Our meetings will continue, after all."
"Yeah…."
She seemed to soften as we talked.
Rubbing her face on my chest like a spoiled kid.
Rub, rub.
Like a big cat purring—cute, but scary, like she might bite my neck.
Still, not a bad feeling.
Different from just chasing pleasure inside her—something warm and fuzzy bloomed in my chest. Felt great.
Did she feel the same? Hope so.
But then a problem.
I'd drunk a lot—needed the bathroom.
"Uh, Elga. Excuse me, but I gotta—."
She hugged tighter.
"Liar…. You'll abandon me."
I squirmed to escape, but she held on.
"No, for real."
"Just cum on my body."
No, that's… not it.