Chapter 135: Transaction 3
Chapter 135: Transaction 3
A soft hand slipped smoothly inside his pants.
A leisurely rhythm entirely at odds with the chaos unfolding on the screen.
Maybe it was that peculiar elven sense of time, melted down into motion—slow, supple, a gentle touch tracing his thigh like a breeze.
Stimulation barely worth calling stimulation. A faint, teasing contact.
But maybe it was the warmth cradled in his arms, because that faint touch alone sent blood rushing downward.
[Hey, you Dream Demon son of a bitch!]
The forest scent tickling the tip of his nose. The cozy heat nestled against him. Then the hand that had been stroking his thigh crept forward with unmistakable intent, and whatever the demonfolk were screaming about stopped being his problem.
[Every damn Dream Demon is the same, fuck!]
Dream Demons live so deep in dreams that they turn their backs on reality. The demon—pointed teeth grinding audibly—gave up remarkably fast. Not that this was a species known for tenacity. If they could dream, they'd stay in bed while the world ended. Cooperation and diligence weren't exactly their brand.
"What are you thinking about?"
She'd felt his hand go still on her stomach. Her cheeks were flushed pink and slightly puffed, so he answered with a brief kiss. Then his hand started moving again.
"Something like this?"
"Ah—hey!"
Downward, downward.
Maybe it was the way those large, angular fingers tapped lightly against her most precious place. The red that had spread from her ears to her cheeks to her throat now dyed every inch of her pale skin. And as if counterattacking, she twisted her body and took hold of him with both hands.
'We face each other like this, and she really is small.'
His own bulk was considerable, but the Unfading Giant Tree was tiny too. If the three Incarnations steeped in Dream Demon mana were tall, voluptuous models, then the Unfading Giant Tree was more like a cute idol. The thought crossed his mind that he'd grown rather spoiled. In the apocalyptic world, sex had been an everyday act—a natural consequence of a life lived wild, never knowing when death would come, with zero entertainment on offer. Weren't humanity's primal male entertainments drinking, gambling, and sex? Remove the first two by force, and what's left? A beast's existence, trading hunger for lust, hygiene reduced to rain and wet wipes. He'd been living that life just three years ago. Now he held Incarnations and elves and Dream Demons in his arms.
"Whoa, it got bigger...?"
"Ah, yeah, maybe a little?"
He'd never done anything as absurd as hold a measuring tape to his cock. Still, proportions that read as hung on a slender elf-boy's frame edged well into monstrous on a hulking, muscular build. She—touching it directly—would feel that difference more keenly than he did. Her soft hands kneaded the shaft, now larger than it had been on that boyish body, as if working dough. That tender touch swept every stray thought clean out of his head.
"Mmm, holding each other is nice, but being cradled against a man's chest isn't bad at all~"
She was rubbing him with both hands while nuzzling her cheek into his pectoral. To him it looked like an adorable bid for affection; from her vantage, maybe she was burying her nose in his cleavage. The way she planted a quick, audible kiss there suggested he was right.
"I still don't really get what's so great about a man's chest."
"It's broad and firm. When you're held against it, you hear the heartbeat and feel safe."
Then she began quietly trying to undress him. The size difference meant she couldn't manage it unless he played along, but he had no intention of interrupting a slim-framed girl trying to act the dignified elder-sister-and-senior while being thoroughly adorable. As they kept touching each other, he found himself down to just his underwear, while her elven garments had slipped halfway off, leaving her looking like she wore nothing but a blanket. Using the demonfolk's shouted curses—still spilling out the office door on the screen—as background entertainment, they shared another slow kiss.
A wet, shameless smack echoed around the room. He was gazing at her slick, parted lips when he felt her eyes drift lower. Made sense. Men staring sidelong at a beautiful woman's breasts gave themselves away constantly. Why would a woman in a gender-reversed world be any different?
"It, it really gets this big..."
Half worry, half anticipation trembling in her voice. Proof that a pure-white virgin who knew nothing of men had been thoroughly stained by him. The way she pressed back into his lap, subtly grinding her hips, made it explicit. He couldn't express how deeply that pleased him. A little sleazy? Maybe. So what. A girl who'd known nothing was changing, little by little, only for him.
If there was a problem—
'What exactly did you watch?'
Vines crept up behind him. He'd stayed still, figuring the bed was a substitute, but now they climbed his back and coiled around his wrists. A muscular man bound by tentacles—no, vines. Was this how women in his previous life had felt when they read those degenerate fantasies? He felt oddly in touch with his feminine sensibilities.
"Um... next."
She'd muttered it under her breath, but at this distance there was no way he'd miss it. She'd obviously studied up, trying to play the noona-senior role. He had a rough guess what her study materials had been. If the vine had touched him any lower, he'd have shredded it on the spot—but it stopped neatly at his wrists, and he found himself content just to watch her flustered squirming.
A world of Authorities and magic and superpowers. Porn probably had tags for this sort of thing, openly and unapologetically. Or maybe she'd skimmed some third-rate tabloid piece—"How to Please Your Man," "The Male Sexual Fantasy," something like that—and taken it seriously. Her small eyes darted busily. Pushing him onto his back and binding him—an assertive, top-tier-female move by this world's standards—had been a good start. But what came next? He was lying down, same as always, except both hands were bound above him. Hugging her and reciprocating was going to be hard. She'd used soft vines, careful not to hurt his wrists, and he could tear through them with raw strength if he wanted to—but ripping apart a plant right in front of an elf felt awkward. So the game now was that she had to tease him, work him up, while he lay there unmoving. But a girl whose entire experience amounted to a few bouts of sex wasn't going to make a man spill helplessly just because she'd watched a porn clip or read an article. If she could, would that make her an elf? No, that'd make her a succubus.
Her solution, under the circumstances, was simple. And effective.
"Um... if this is how it's going to be, what about untying me?"
"Th-they say a relationship lasts longer if you... try different things."
She mumbled it, voice barely audible, and dropped her head low. They were body-to-body, so that meant pressing her face into his chest. If looking up was embarrassing and looking down was embarrassing, maybe she'd settled on enjoying the pectorals. Her small bottom squirmed forward like a slug, inching into place above him. The soft, hot cheek against his chest. The yielding press of her breasts and belly shifting across his abs. The slickness—he wasn't sure if it was his or hers. Trembling hands gripped his body and squeezed. It didn't hurt, didn't even tickle.
"Haa, it's hot—"
The continued gentle stimulation had his cock thoroughly worked up, and he felt it slowly parting warm, soft flesh. A gentle pleasure even without moving. But maybe it was the bound arms. Maybe the light weight poised above him. It felt entirely different from usual.
'Well, none of my Incarnations are lining up to ride me, are they?'
That much was obvious from obedient Han Ye-ji, from service-minded Lee Ha-rin, from Kim Ha-eun who turned utterly submissive after a punishment. The Incarnations approached sex as an act of service. They knelt, took him in their mouths, bowed at his feet, and found genuine joy in massaging him and washing his body. Facing each other was one thing. Climbing on top of him while he lay back and pursuing their own pleasure was probably a distant-future prospect. Either that, or he'd have to stage another production inside their unconscious minds.
'Well... this is novel.'
She exhaled deep and took him all the way in. A hot sigh spilled across his chest. If it were up to her, she'd probably be moving her hips already, but right now he was more curious how she'd react next. Curiosity had won out over lust. Her small hands traveled slowly down his body, chest to stomach, as she steadied her breathing and raised her torso. The warmth pulling away from his belly and chest left him faintly disappointed.
"O-okay, I'm going to move?"
She looked down at him, straining to sound composed. Cheeks and ears blazed red, eyes glossy and brimming, but she didn't seem to notice, working hard to project nonchalance. Teasing her in this moment would be less fun than simply letting her do what she wanted. He could move however he pleased in bed with his Incarnations; that was enough.
She couldn't quite manage an up-and-down grinding rhythm, so she circled her hips instead, awkwardly. The tight inner flesh worked and squeezed around him.
[Agh, fuck—you. Help me out a little! Are you seriously not watching? He went—]
She'd waved a hand idly and locked the screen. Then she smiled, shy and pleased, because no matter how carefully he managed his expression and bit back laughter, what was happening below the waist was perfectly honest. The soft, delicate lines of her body danced above him, swaying slowly.
'You really don't plan on untying the vines?'
Her gaze flicked nervously from his chest to his bound hands. Surely she wasn't about to tumble into something even more perverted. He really hoped the elf wouldn't turn into an ero-elf.