Chapter 47
Translator: Ebonarch
Chapter: 47
Chapter Title: Relapse of the Itch
There's no reluctance to taking off my pants.
I borrowed a horse. No need to buy one since the carriage was stored in my subspace.
"Let's take it slow."
I could have gone hard when it was just me and Charlotte One. But now that Charlotte Two had joined us, that wasn't an option.
Considering Charlotte Two's stamina, I drove the carriage at a leisurely pace.
The horse moved slowly. Just a bit faster than a human walking pace. The carriage dragging behind was holding us back.
"......"
Like everything in the world was brand new to her, Charlotte Two gazed around with wide eyes. She'd only ever lived in Count Pigmon's mansion, it seemed—ever since stepping outside, her face had been locked in perpetual surprise.
I glanced at Charlotte Two and said,
"You'll get to experience all sorts of things from now on. If you ever want something, just tell me anytime."
"...N-no, I don't. I don't want anything."
"You'll come up with something eventually. We've got plenty of time."
She was only five, after all. She had several times more years ahead of her than behind her—surely she'd develop some desires along the way.
Once she spent time at the Cradle of Abundance Inn with kids her age, natural wants would bubble up. I hoped she'd find the courage to speak up then.
I was fully prepared to wait for Charlotte Two. To keep her from turning out like Charlotte One. I really meant to grant her any wish, no matter what.
The same went for Olivia Two. I'd raise these "Twos" into completely different people from the "Ones."
Twitch-.
"......?"
Ominous. That familiar itch was creeping up on me, slow and insidious.
'Please. No.'
I hoped it was just my imagination. I prayed desperately for it to be nothing.
Maybe I'd turned into a total has-been after retiring as the Hero so long ago. Maybe those senses I'd once called my "gut instinct"—sharp as a blade—had finally dulled beyond use. That's what I wanted to believe.
'This is bad.'
The itch had relapsed. Inside my asshole, around the rim, my cock and balls—they were all itching.
I'd clearly overcome it before. Why was it coming back stronger? Did beating it once just make the next round hit harder?
Cold sweat trickled down my back.
"Father, your complexion looks awful."
Right after I started enduring it, Charlotte noticed and asked. She picked up on changes in me like a damn ghost.
"W-what? I'm perfectly fine."
"......"
I waved off Charlotte's worried gaze. Told her I was fine, brushing away her concern with finality.
She didn't look convinced.
"Has it relapsed again?"
"...Why only me? You're fine, aren't you?"
I felt unfairly resentful for no reason. It wasn't Charlotte One's fault at all. Yet somehow, I ended up blaming her.
I shook my head.
'That's pathetic.'
Catching some mystery illness meant I'd failed at managing my condition. That was entirely on me.
Charlotte One was blameless.
"It might be a contagious disease that hits Father particularly hard."
"......"
In the NTR Tsukuru game, Dyke was notoriously weak to colds. Even with flesh torn open or an arm broken, those healed faster than a sniffle.
Physically speaking, sure, colds cleared up quicker. Healing skin and mending bone took time, after all.
What I meant was that recovery time didn't scale with the injury's severity.
'A light cold keeps me bedridden for two days, but a bone knits in a week. Even the same holy spells do jack against something like the flu.'
I knew the reason. Come on, it's obvious why the protagonist in an NTR genre gets weakened like that.
To buy time for the heroines to fool around with other guys. Dyke's body was fragile when it came to illness.
It was inevitable. I'd dragged my sick ass around looking for Tina, Celine, and Alicia.
And what did they do? Dodged me to meet up with other men. Their dedication was something else.
'...It could be a disease I catch way too easily...'
Charlotte One had a point. My track record backed it up.
"Even so... symptoms like this are a first..."
Five years ago, back when I was active as the Hero. I'd caught colds before, but never suffered from an itch like this.
It was brand new. That's why it was so hard to bear.
'It goes away, then flares up again... that's what makes it torture.'
I rolled my eyes to sneak a peek at Charlotte. Did I have to ask her again? To suck my ass?
The very thought made my mind reel. Shame so intense I wanted to die.
I couldn't even lift my head.
"...Father. I'm fine."
Meaning her itch hadn't relapsed, so she was good. That's the nuance, right?
Or was it, ask me anytime?
Either way, it wasn't good news for me.
If the first, it meant I was suffering alone—bad for morale. If the second, she saw right through my symptoms—needlessly humiliating.
I turned away to avoid Charlotte One's eyes. She kept her gaze fixed on me.
She'd pretty much figured it out. That steady stare was way too much pressure.
From Count Pigmon's territory to the Cradle of Abundance Inn. At full speed, I could make the round trip in a day.
But I wasn't alone anymore.
Traveling with Charlotte Two meant I had no choice but to slow down.
"Ugh......"
Rest time. We stopped briefly under the pretense of letting the horses catch their breath.
It wasn't for the horses. I wanted to check my condition.
I left the Charlottes behind and ducked behind a nearby tree. Suppressed my presence and peeked down my pants.
Worried my cock and balls might be swollen. Fortunately, they looked normal on the outside.
"Fuck...!"
The exposed parts I could roughly scratch away. But the inside of my asshole? No clue how to deal with that.
Only Charlotte One's fingers or tongue came to mind. But asking her outright was mortifying.
Just sighs came out.
"Father?"
"Y-yeah?"
Charlotte One had come looking with Charlotte Two in tow.
Charlotte Two stared blankly. Meeting those innocent eyes sent chills down my spine. My body froze like I'd been caught red-handed doing something vile.
"W-why?"
"You were gone so long, I worried something had happened."
"...Nothing. The horses? They good?"
"They weren't tired to begin with. We haven't gone far."
"......"
I ignored Charlotte One. Afraid she'd sniff out my personal errand, I clammed up.
We were basically busted already, but I didn't want to drive the nail in myself.
"...Let's head out."
We got moving again. The horses pulled the carriage at a crawl.
Charlotte One, sitting beside me on the coachman's seat, whispered,
"Father. Let me help you."
"...No need."
"I'm fine. If it helps Father, that's enough for me. I can lick any dirty spot."
"...I said no need...!"
For a moment, I was disgusted with myself. I didn't even look at Charlotte One.
"Hoo......"
I took deep breaths, thrashing internally to suppress the itch. Sweat poured down.
"Tent... Let's pitch the tents..."
A tent for me. One for the Charlottes.
We prepped dinner in record time. Quick and efficient.
"...Mister, are you okay?"
Maybe because I'd fussed around so much. Charlotte Two looked at me with worried eyes.
I nodded firmly.
"Why? What's wrong? I'm fine."
Not enough to warrant worry from Charlotte Two. My pride let me forget the itch for a bit.
But only for a bit.
Right after dinner, the itch intensified.
If this kept up, I'd shove my own fingers in there. I was on the verge of losing it.
I rubbed my thighs frantically and approached Charlotte One.
"Charlotte......"
"Yes, Father."
"Um... C-can I ask a favor?"
The itch overpowered my pride and shame. Relieving the pain trumped all that bullshit.
Charlotte One gave a kind smile and nodded.
"If Father needs me, I'm always ready."
"Tonight. Help me out a little tonight..."
"Understood. I'll put Charlotte Two to bed, then come to your tent."
"......"
I groaned in my tent, waiting for Charlotte. She wasn't showing.
She'd definitely said she'd come once Two was asleep.
'Is she still awake?'
I quietly got up and crept to their tent. Circulated mana in my ears and focused on the sounds inside.
— When are you thinking of sleeping?
— I can't sleep.
— How about counting sheep?
— He's not coming...
Charlotte Two's voice was way too chipper. Like looking at a little sister hyped up on energy drinks.
I couldn't take it anymore and lifted the tent flap.
"...Charlotte, come out for a sec. Got something to say about tomorrow's schedule."
"Ah."
Charlotte One grinned and crawled out of her sleeping bag. We headed to my tent together.
"Is it safe to leave the child alone? Won't it be dangerous?"
"...Sh, it'll be fine for a bit."
My cock and ass were more urgent. I roughly grabbed Charlotte's hand and dragged her back into my tent.
"Qu-quick."
I dropped my pants. No hesitation in front of Charlotte. The itch was driving me insane.
"Where does it itch?"
"...Gr-groin and ass..."
"The itch has spread further."
Charlotte said with a bright smile.
"I'll handle your cock first."
"Please..."
I swallowed my shame and thrust my cock toward her. Charlotte squatted in front of me and pinched my small cock between her fingers.
Chup, chup, chuup.
"Ah..."
Charlotte took my cock in her mouth and sucked. The itch vanished.
An indescribable sense of liberation hammered my brain.
Like scratching a mosquito bite wildly, consequences be damned. That pleasure.
Like raking through days-unwashed, greasy hair, no fear of balding. That pleasure.
My mind went fuzzy. But something felt lacking.
A faint itch lingered. Needed a more thorough application of "medicine."
"Charlotte... S-sorry."
I grabbed her head and shoved my hips forward. No asking permission—I rammed my cock deep into her mouth on my own.
"Uum, um."
Charlotte naturally pursed her lips around the base, submerging my cock in a mouthful of saliva.
Then the itch was completely gone...
"Next, your balls. I'll lick them."