Receiving Forgiveness (=Milking) (3)
About ten minutes after entering the room.
“Haa… ngh…♡ Ugggh…♡”
“Kiiing♡ Kaaang♡”
Eladriel and Laia, having climaxed twice in quick succession, lay sprawled across the bed, leaking pathetic moans. Once Gyeoul finished collecting every drop of their semen into the bucket, she let out a short breath.
“Phew…”
To be honest, she felt much better.
Gyeoul had been furious with the students who refused to take her hand when she reached out in the throes of her climax. She had felt betrayed. Rage had boiled inside her, blackening her heart with the thought that her only worth to them was her pussy.
But was she angry enough to never forgive them?
…Well, no. Not quite.
For someone like Han Gyeoul, an act that could never be forgiven would have to be an evil far beyond any ordinary wrong. Something so horrific no human could possibly pardon it. So the moment the two of them came as representatives to apologize, she had already been willing to forgive them to some degree. That was why she had let them in.
Still, the reason she hadn’t immediately followed the simple reconciliation script—apologize, I’m sorry, don’t do it again, yes I’m sorry—was because she had been hurt.
Mental wounds healed the same way physical ones did. Even if you forgave the one who caused them, the injury still needed time and care. Setting aside the act of forgiveness itself, Gyeoul needed to soothe the ache in her heart first.
And what she wanted most was to see them cling to her. To watch them devote themselves to her. To witness them endure hardship for her sake—so she could think, They’re willing to go this far just to earn my forgiveness. They’re this desperate for me.
After all, her sorrow had been born from the frustration of a female’s desire. And nothing stirred a female’s heart more than the sight of a male willingly suffering for her.
He’s really doing all this for me? Hmm. Oh? He couldn’t possibly do this much for several women at once. So he won’t spare any attention for other females and only look at me?
That was the realization she craved.
There was a common prejudice that women loved jewels and splendor. It was partly true. But what a female truly desired wasn’t the treasure itself—it was the attention a male poured onto her. Material gifts were merely one way of expressing that attention.
The ten given by a man who only possessed ten, offered with his entire being, was far more precious than the hundred casually parted with by a man who owned a thousand. It satisfied a female’s desires on a much deeper level.
Of course, there were females who forgot this obvious truth. How truly pitiful.
So the crux of it was this: watching Eladriel and Laia desperately endure without once screaming “stop.” The way they bit down on the sheets to stay silent, clutched the fabric until it wrinkled and tore, rubbed their faces against it in resistance—that frantic determination.
Seeing it, the wounded, sulking female deep inside Gyeoul had coyly lifted her head and thought, …Well, this much is enough to forgive them.
‘…Then I suppose we can end today’s milking session here.’
Trisha seemed to have recovered as well.
…Now that she thought about it, she had been rather unfair to Lady Trisha. She had essentially taken out her anger on an innocent third party who had simply been caught in the crossfire.
‘No, well… it’s not as if I actually harmed her.’
Making excuses to herself, Gyeoul cleared her throat.
Then.
“Lady Eladriel. Lady Laia.”
Her voice was far gentler than before, yet it still carried a thick undercurrent of heat. Because honestly, Gyeoul was suffering just as much.
Cock. Cum. Cock. Cum.
She had been touching it right in front of her eyes, tasting the semen, even using her own breasts to feel its weight, thickness, and length. Telling her not to go into heat would have been an impossible demand.
Her body itched. Deep inside, it itched.
A cock. A big, thick, vein-bulging, magnificent male cock.
It might have been fine if she had never known. But Gyeoul knew now. She had learned.
She knew exactly how it felt when that cock forced her pussy open with wet, obscene sounds. She knew the pressure of her insides being pushed upward, the sensation of her body being claimed and dominated from within until her brain melted into mush. She knew what it felt like when that proud glans scraped against her most sensitive spots, when pleasure chemicals bombarded her nerves like carpet bombing, and what kind of climax that brought.
She knew how her body would convulse on its own, how her urethra would spread open and spray clear fluids with a loud shiiick!, how her heart would pound strangely in her chest, and how a tingling sensation like something snapping would spread through her mind.
Because she knew all of it. Because she had learned.
“Haa…♡”
Her body was in heat. Maintaining an expressionless face was no longer possible. The corners of her mouth kept rising. Heat flooded her, making her breath scalding. Her chest burned. She had to breathe so quickly that her mouth hung open in a daze. Her gaze kept darting to their cocks, growing hazy and unfocused, then snapping back again. A flush returned to her skin, and a light sheen of sweat glistened on her nape and between her breasts.
“From now on—”
But before Gyeoul could finish, Trisha—having recovered—crawled toward her on all fours and threw her arms around her, clinging desperately.
“Eut.”
As a milking therapist, Gyeoul had been about to sternly scold the patient for her sudden interruption, but—
“G-Gyeoul…!”
Trisha was panting. Her eyes brimmed with tears. Saliva spilled from her mouth, trickling down her throat and tracing the sharp, elegant line of her jaw.
“M-me! Please…! Pleeease…!”
Her cock, which had already cum three times in Gyeoul’s hands and twice on her breasts—five times total—had swollen back to full, painful erection, repeatedly prodding Gyeoul’s stomach.
In the end, this cock still didn’t know the feeling of a real pussy. It knew the sensation of being squeezed between tits, but it had never experienced the hot, wet, velvety folds that clamped down from every direction at once. It was large and imposing, yet it had never truly conquered a female.
A virgin cock.
“…Haa.”
Gyeoul sighed.
As a milking therapist, she ought to reprimand the patient for her outburst. But as a maid, she was supposed to care for the suffering young lady. The two roles were in direct conflict.
What should a person do in such a dilemma? It was a question that had probably existed since humans first formed groups. And in moments of dilemma, people’s choices often revealed their true nature.
In Gyeoul’s case—
“Come here, Lady Trisha.”
She gently lifted the girl into her arms, pressing Trisha’s face into her soft cleavage the way one might comfort a child on the verge of tears.
“Shhh… It’s all right. I’ll let you put it inside my pussy.”
“R-really? You’ll really let me?”
“Of course, my lady. I am your maid, after all.”
She stroked the girl’s shimmering silver-white hair—the symbol of imperial royalty.
“I will allow you to mate with my pussy until you are fully satisfied. So please don’t worry.”
“U-um…”
Trisha buried her face deeper into Gyeoul’s cleavage. Only moments ago, her cock had been wedged between those same breasts, trapped like a prisoner and milked as if under interrogation. Yet now, pressing her face there felt gentler than anything else in the world. Perhaps even gentler than her own mother.
Trisha’s cock remained painfully erect, but instead of immediately begging to be let inside Gyeoul’s pussy, she simply nestled her face deeper into that warm valley. The soft, comforting sensation was precious too. It couldn’t replace the other feeling, of course, but since Gyeoul had promised they would mate soon, she could wait. Listening to Gyeoul’s words brought such pleasant feelings. So she would listen well. She would be a good girl.
“Lady Eladriel. Lady Laia.”
While continuing to gently stroke Trisha’s back, Gyeoul addressed the two who had awkwardly sat up.
“I will accept your apologies now.”
“!”
“!!”
They had been bracing themselves for one more brutal milking session, expecting Gyeoul to viciously drag “stop” out of them this time. So the sudden declaration that she would accept their apology now sounded like merciful heavenly grace.
Before the chance could vanish, they spoke in a frantic rush.
“I-I was wrong. I’m sorry, Miss Gyeoul, for doing something like that to you.”
“I’m sorry. That day… we hurt you.”
The apologies poured out.
“I forgive you.”
Gyeoul nodded.
“I will forgive not only the two of you, but the other ladies as well. Of course, each of you separately—”
“Of course!”
“We only came first! Everyone else will apologize on their own!”
Gyeoul nodded once more.
“Understood.”
Then she smiled, just a little.
“Then it’s time for reconciliation.”
“?”
“?”
Time for reconciliation? Hadn’t they just done that?
The two had momentarily forgotten that Gyeoul was still under the hypnosis meant for sexual relief.
“Could you wait just a moment for the final and essential step of reconciliation—the sincere climax submission mating?”
“…Eh?”
“Sincere… climax…”
At those shocking words, their faces went slack while their cocks surged upward in full erection. What Trisha had just experienced in this room would now happen to Eladriel and Laia as well.
“Yes. Sincere climax submission mating. It is an absolutely necessary process if you wish to apologize and return to our original relationship.”
“I-is that right?”
“U-uh-huh!”
Unlike Trisha, however, the two of them had already spent two full weeks with the hypnotized Gyeoul. They had been thoroughly trained. They knew that whenever Gyeoul started saying things that made their minds go blank, they simply had to follow her lead. Then they would experience pleasures so obscene they could never have imagined them, drowning in an ocean of ecstasy.
“Yes. Normally I would begin right away, but I must ask you to wait just a little longer.”
Gyeoul lifted Trisha’s face from her cleavage.
“Because first, I must teach Lady Trisha what it truly means to be a female.”
She smiled. It was a warm, gentle, maid’s smile.