Stuck in the Wall and Emotionless Sex — Application (6)
The person closest to Gyeoul right now was the woman who had arrived at the sexual relief room earlier than anyone else today. It was Eladriel.
Even though she was kneeling on the floor to match their eye level, there wasn’t the slightest hint of discomfort on her face. Instead, her expression was bright and radiant, blooming with joy.
“Mmm… Ah! Gyeoul, would you like to touch my throat with your finger? This is ‘z,’ and right now this is ‘z.’ ”
“Huh…?”
“ ‘Z,’ and then ‘z.’ ”
“Huh? Oh! So this one and that one have that kind of difference?”
Bella, who had been waiting for the right moment, slipped into the conversation.
“Yes. This little stroke here indicates the presence or absence of vocal cord vibration…”
The ordinary scene of studying in front of the curtain. After taking it all in, Chacha turned her gaze back behind the curtain.
“Ah… ngh…♡”
Just as expected, Kazuha had buried her cock deep inside Gyeoul’s rear entrance and was gritting her teeth in overwhelming pleasure. At the same time, she let out a disbelieving laugh, as if she couldn’t comprehend how a human asshole could possibly feel this good.
“Hooook… khk…!”
Kazuha made a strange noise, then drove her cock even deeper. It seemed the entrance to the colon, which had been stubbornly refusing the cock until now, had finally softened and surrendered. At last, Gyeoul’s anal sphincter wrapped tightly around the base of Kazuha’s massive shaft.
Her entire anus was stretched wide around the enormous girth, every wrinkle smoothed out, clenching and squeezing inward with desperate force. And inside Gyeoul’s belly—hidden from Chacha’s view—the glans was lodged perfectly between the colon and rectal sphincters, twitching and gripping every time Kazuha thrust her hips.
“Ka, haa…♡”
Saliva dripped from the corner of Kazuha’s mouth as she panted in ecstasy. The oni leaned her upper body forward, as if trying to endure the overwhelming pleasure. Although she had told Chacha she would finish quickly, now that she was actually inside, she clearly didn’t want to cum right away.
Chacha wasn’t particularly angry about it. Honestly, if their positions were reversed, she probably would have done the same. More than anything—
Chacha looked toward the front of the curtain again. Bella was carefully sharing her knowledge.
“So the standard imperial language is based on the Aineis dialect, which is the capital dialect of the Raum language. When the empire was founded… Ah, um, Gyeoul, you’re not bored, are you?”
“I’m fine. I don’t know any of this, so it’s interesting.”
“Th-then I’ll keep going? But if it gets boring, you have to tell me right away, okay?”
Behind the curtain again.
“Huu… heuk, haa…♡”
Kazuha was panting heavily. She was pouring her semen deep into Gyeoul’s intestines.
“Huu…”
Finally, with a satisfied sigh, she pulled her cock out. A beat later, thick semen began to pour out in heavy streams, splashing into the bucket.
Chacha looked toward the front of the curtain once more.
“—And so the era of the Three Great Demon Kings of the continent began, followed by the Age of Division. Eventually a single hero appeared and defeated each of the Demon Kings—”
“Princess of Valanore, Gyeoul’s eyes have gone completely hazy.”
“Huk!”
When she looked behind the curtain again, her eyes met Kazuha’s as the oni wiped her cock with a towel. They exchanged awkward glances. Kazuha cleared her throat, straightened her skirt, and only then seemed to realize something was happening on the other side of the curtain. She headed that way.
This time, Chacha turned her attention to Gyeoul’s lower half. Thick, pearly semen dripped steadily from her rear. Her plump ass and twitching hole were completely exposed. A massive, rock-hard horse cock lifted the front of a skirt upward.
Finally. It was her turn.
**
When Gyeoul opened the door to the sexual relief room on Friday—a room no one would have complained about even if she left it closed—she had wished for one thing. Since she was opening it anyway, she hoped it would at least be successful.
And by “successful,” Gyeoul had two conditions in mind.
First, the students would use the sexual relief room as intended, comfortably ejaculate, and leave satisfied.
Second, Gyeoul herself would spend the day as ordinarily as possible.
By “ordinary day,” she meant a day without feeling any pleasure and without going into heat.
The first condition had been taken care of the moment Miel cast her spell. No matter how sensitive her body was or how easily she reached climax, she couldn’t feel anything below her arms. Therefore, she couldn’t feel pleasure either.
But the second condition, contrary to her expectations, proved surprisingly difficult for Gyeoul.
Why had it been different from what she expected? Because Gyeoul had assumed the only way she could go into heat was through mental stimulation—specifically, by having lewd thoughts in her own head.
She believed there was no way dirty thoughts would pop into her mind while she was studying letters. Especially not right after yesterday’s hellish orgasm marathon.
However, Gyeoul had overlooked something.
Even without touch, she still had four other senses left. And every single one of them could become a source of obscene stimulation.
Among them, hearing and smell were especially dangerous.
First, hearing.
“Is this character written like this?”
“You have to draw the stroke from right to left, not left to right.”
Even during such ordinary conversation, obscene sounds kept pouring in from behind the curtain without pause.
The pathetic, beastly moans of males writhing in pleasure—Haa♡ Ah, heuk♡. The wet, filthy sounds of Gyeoul’s own pussy—Chop, chuachop♡. The sharp thwack! of insertion, the repeated slap! slap! of a futanari student’s crotch colliding with her ass.
All of it was obscene auditory stimulation.
Divided by the curtain, the two worlds continued.
“This character is…” / “Th-this pussy♡ How can it be so greedy♡”
Chyuk, pshuuut!!♡
“Gyeoul? Are you okay?” / “Hek♡”
Slap slap!
“Uheek♡”
Chyup! Pyuuup, chop, chuup!!
Gyeoul kept trying to focus on her studies. But everyone knows that the moment you try hardest to concentrate, your mind wanders in the opposite direction.
“Um…”
Gradually, Gyeoul’s hand slowed. Her speech became slurred. Her heartbeat quickened. The voices of the students—friends? Or were they already far closer than that?—stopped reaching her ears.
Instead—
Jjibap jjibap, chyup chyububup, chyuk♡ chyusut♡
“Kuk…♡ Haaaa…♡”
Slap! Slap slap!
Jurrrruk… Jyuruk♡
“Uooook…♡ Fuck, this pussy…♡”
The lewd sound effects and the voices of the males using her pussy for their pleasure began to fill her head completely.
But hearing was still the lesser evil. After all, the stimulation was coming from the other side of the curtain.
However, on this side, another sense was attacking Gyeoul’s sanity.
Smell.
There was a scent that could not be hidden from a room full of futanari students. Of course, it wasn’t an unpleasant body odor. The academy’s bathing facilities were excellent, and since they didn’t want to be hated by Gyeoul, everyone paid far more attention to cleanliness than they ever had back home.
It was simply the smell of semen.
And the smell of cock.
Cocks coated in pussy juice and intestinal fluids. The heavy musk that gathered beneath their balls. The semen that oozed belatedly from their urethras. The sweat produced from violently thrusting hips.
That subtle yet intensely stimulating, lewd, damp, head-spinning male scent.
And after teasing Gyeoul so thoroughly with that scent, the owners of those cocks would, the moment their members grew even slightly hard—
“I-I’ll be right back…”
Whether awkwardly,
“I’ll just step over there for a moment.”
Or unnecessarily confident. Or sneaking glances. Or secretly. Or openly showing their desire. Or even while sexually harassing her.
They would go behind the curtain. Then they would create those filthy sounds—slap slap, pshhh, chyurut, uheuk♡ khk♡—before returning to the front, now radiating an even thicker scent from their cocks.
And every time a student ejaculated, more semen was added to the bucket. The smell of cum in the air grew thicker and thicker.
In other words.
The special one-day-only sexual relief room that Gyeoul had designed using her underground knowledge was performing its duty of relieving everyone’s sexual needs perfectly.
Everyone except Gyeoul herself.
Because from the very beginning, her own sexual desire had never been part of the plan. It was something that wasn’t supposed to exist—something to be denied and suppressed.
And indeed, before her lust had fully boiled over, she had been able to do exactly that.
I-I’m not in heat. I’m not in heat.
Even as she began flaring her nostrils to smell more, even as the unique sensation of arousal—mixed with impatience and irritation—tickled the inside of her skull, she could still suppress it.
But soon, Gyeoul came to understand the difference between male and female sexual desire.
Why had the students cursed with futanari immediately tried to rape any woman nearby, or fallen into endless masturbation? Why had they been unable to live normal daily lives before Gyeoul offered her body?
It was because it was unfamiliar.
An ordinary man first encounters the terrifying master known as sexual desire during puberty. He resists the commands of his cock instead of his head, sometimes gets dragged along by it. Through regret, occasional success, and heavenly moments, he gradually learns how to live alongside his lust.
But the students who had become futanari had no such opportunity. They experienced male sexual desire for the first time in their lives, and its intensity was far, far stronger than that of an ordinary man. It didn’t feel like a leash around their necks—it felt like they had become puppets.
That was the terror of an unfamiliar sexual urge.
Gyeoul was now beginning to realize just how powerfully an unaccustomed lust could dominate a person.
Ugh… uuugh…
Her emotions surged wildly. The girls who had always treated her kindly suddenly looked hypocritical. Then fake. Then, the very next moment, lovable. At the same time, a crushing loneliness welled up inside her chest. It was the kind of loneliness that would instantly turn into sorrow if she didn’t control it right now.
Gyeoul reached out and suddenly grabbed Laia’s arm.
“G-Gyeoul?”
Why Laia, of all people? Because she was closest to Gyeoul’s right hand. There was no other reason.
And then Gyeoul’s mouth moved on its own.
“Laia. Do you like me?”
Everything stopped.
All conversation ceased. It was as if the entire world had been frozen in time.
There were currently more than ten students in the sexual relief room besides Gyeoul. Most of them were either talking with her in front of the curtain or waiting for a chance to speak. And in that situation, a question asking for confirmation of their affection toward her had just been asked?
By Gyeoul herself, no less?
A bomb would have been less dangerous. And that wasn’t an exaggeration—depending on how it was handled, an actual bomb might have caused less damage.
After all, every single student at the academy was a child of a great noble house.
“—!?”
Laia, of course, understood that perfectly. Even someone like Laia, who leaned more toward physical combat than intellect, knew exactly how serious this was. Therefore, she couldn’t answer with either “yes” or “no.” All she could do was shout Gyeoul’s name in pure panic.
“G-Gyeoul!?”
It was the closest thing to a scream Laia had ever uttered in her entire life.
“Why.”
And of course, Gyeoul knew it too. She knew she had just thrown a bomb.
Until now, Gyeoul had never consciously acknowledged the students’ affection for her. She simply hadn’t noticed it. Han Gyeoul had always been dense when it came to romance, and as a lifelong solo player, she found it hard to believe that beautiful women could actually like her.
But somewhere deeper than conscious thought, the fragile female who could only survive by being loved by males had already noticed.
She knew that every single male here was eyeing her with hunger.
So she knew without knowing.
But she had never cared.
Instead, she pulled Laia even closer and asked again.
“I’m asking you. Do you like me? Hm? Why won’t you answer?”
Before Laia could even respond, Gyeoul fired off a barrage of words.
“I want to hear it right now. Just say you like me. Is saying one little sentence that hard?”
Of course it was hard. It was probably harder than any sentence Laia had ever agonized over in her life, or would agonize over for the rest of it.
“Th-that’s—”
Laia was so flustered she desperately made eye contact with the other students. I didn’t do anything. I’m innocent. Please, someone help me.
“What? So Laia hates me?”
“That’s not—”
“Then how about you, Kazuha?”
Gyeoul’s hand moved to the next closest person—Kazuha.
“…!?”
The moment Gyeoul’s hand grabbed her, Kazuha felt dizzy. It was hot. Intense. It felt like obsession, irritation, and longing had all mixed together into a single flame, and that flame was burning through Gyeoul’s hand.
“Why? Why why? Tell me. Say you like me. Say you love me. Hug me. Hold me tight. Or do you have a problem with me? Why?”
Ah. Suddenly tears welled up.
Her emotions were completely out of control.
“Am I asking for something difficult? No, right? All you have to do is say you like me. Hm? And then hug me. That’s all.”
God, it’s so annoying. So unfair. What the hell is wrong with them? What am I lacking? Why do they get to feel good while I—
I can’t even feel my pussy itching, yet I’m the only one who has to sacrifice?
Of course, the entire structure where only she couldn’t feel pleasure had been intentionally created by Gyeoul herself.
It’s so unfair. You’re all so mean.
Right now, Gyeoul’s mind was completely filled with female desire. There was no room left for logic or reason.
I can’t take it anymore.
No. I won’t hold back! I’m going to do it too. I’m going to feel pleasure too! I’m going to get my pussy scraped raw and cum my brains out!!!
Why wasn’t she doing that again?
She didn’t know. What was it? Why couldn’t she?
Oh, right. There was that sensory block spell cast on her.
What the fuck!?
Then.
I’ll just get rid of it.
Gyeoul made her decision.
And pushed it away.
At that exact moment, Miel—who had been ignored the entire time and was dozing alone on the sofa—abruptly shot upright.
“Huh…? Huh!?”
She had felt it. Something that should have been impossible had just happened.
And immediately after—
“Uhuuok!?”
For the first time that day, a sharp, vulgar moan rang out through the sexual relief room.
“Khk♡ Hekkeugeuk!? Eut, kkigeueuuuk!!!!♡”
Pushuut! Pushuushuuut!!!!
The sound of a female body reaching climax and squirting mixed with her moans.
And then came the chorus.
“Kak♡ Keu—ok♡ Heuk—♡ —♡♡♡ Eok—kkeok—”
Parururu.Pyushut!Pashushushut!!
“Huuuuuuu!!! Keu, keuuuuuuu… kek♡”
Tok.
Padul padul♡ Padul padul…♡
Jyorurururu…♡
“Keuhek!?”
Burrrr.
“Eok♡ Keok♡ Keuheuk…!♡”