Misunderstood Rape (2)
At that moment, Trisha sat ramrod straight on the sofa in the dean’s office, offering an apology to Parin across from her.
“I displayed unseemly behavior recently.”
“Not at all. It’s quite all right.”
“Please speak comfortably. While I am at this academy, I am merely a student—even if I am an imperial princess—and you are the dean.”
“In that case, I shall do so, Miss Trisha.”
Trisha dipped her head in another elegant bow. She was the very picture of a flawless princess; anyone would have struggled to find fault. When one recalled how she had sprouted a cock and been devoured by lust, it was almost impossible to believe she was the same person….
Neither Parin nor Miel commented on it. As they had said many times before, every student had been the same before receiving Gyeoul’s “help.” The only difference was the degree.
Trisha lifted her teacup with refined grace and asked, “So what did you wish to speak with me about?”
“It concerns Miss Gyeoul.”
Trisha’s hand holding the teacup flinched violently.
“…Miss Gyeoul, you say.”
Yet she quickly regained her composure and brought the cup to her lips—elegantly, with perfect poise. “Has something gone wrong with her?”
The instant the liquid touched her tongue without a sound—
“It appears the Succubus Demon King Lilith is sleeping inside Miss Gyeoul.”
“Pffft—!? Cough, cough!!”
“My, you should have been more careful.”
“Y-you did that on purpose! You absolutely did it on purpose just now!”
“Did I? I’m not sure. I’ve lived a long time; my hearing isn’t what it used to be.”
“So you were holding a grudge from that time! Ahem, khem! Hem-hem… khk, cough… khem, khem….”
Forcing herself back under control, Trisha’s eyes grew deadly serious. “…But that wasn’t a joke, was it?”
“Unfortunately not.”
“May I hear the details?”
Parin tossed her a towel and leaned back against the sofa. “I suppose I should begin from the first time I encountered Miss Gyeoul. It was roughly a week before the academy opened.”
Parin recounted everything in order: Han Gyeoul, the man from another world who had been transformed into a woman. The suspicious coincidence between Gyeoul’s arrival and the moment the futanari curse began spreading across the empire. How she had asked Gyeoul to assist the students with their sexual relief. That, at the time, she had believed Gyeoul was simply another victim who had suffered a different kind of harm. The incident in which Gyeoul had repelled Miel’s technique, leading her to suspect a deeper connection between Gyeoul and the true “perpetrator.” And the results of the examination she had just performed.
“Right now, inside Miss Gyeoul’s body rests a mana core that does not belong to her—one wrapped in an extremely solid shell.”
“…You’re saying a soul was placed inside that mana core? And it belongs to Lilith?”
“I didn’t open it and ask the soul its name, but given that it is clearly a succubus’s and the sheer scale of its power, I can think of no other candidate. Had you been present, you would have agreed at once.”
“…I see.”
Trisha nodded with solemn gravity. “I understand.”
“I’m glad.”
The princess and the greatest mage in the world exchanged a long look.
“I have absolutely no intention of giving up on Miss Gyeoul. Whether the ones suggesting we eliminate her to break the curse, or the Demon King trying to abduct her—none of them will have their way.”
“I feel the same. I believe the other students, and Miss Miel here, share that sentiment.”
“Yep, yep!” Miel nodded enthusiastically.
She had left the logical explanations to Parin, but her desire to protect Gyeoul burned no less fiercely than anyone else’s. Gyeoul was the respected teacher from whom she still had so much to learn about lewdness, and beyond that, she simply liked the person named Han Gyeoul. She wanted to become her lifelong friend—her absolute best friend.
Trisha nodded once more. “Understood. As a princess, I swear to mobilize every resource at my command to protect Miss Gyeoul.”
A vow. A heavy word that should never be uttered lightly by one born of a magical bloodline. Yet Trisha could no longer imagine a life without Gyeoul.
“…Splendid.”
Parin let out a long breath. No matter how absolute the Emperor’s authority might seem, few allies were as reassuring as an imperial princess.
“With you stepping forward like this, I feel much more at ease.”
The moment she took a relieved sip of tea—
“I changed my mind. I’m canceling that.”
“Khup!?”
Parin nearly spat out her tea. Coughing, she asked urgently, “M-Miss Trisha, what on earth—”
Only to meet the princess’s eyes, which were crinkled in a mischievous, shit-eating grin.
Parin narrowed her own eyes. “…You did that on purpose, didn’t you?”
“Now we’re even, yes?”
“…Sigh.”
Parin collapsed back against the sofa with a groan. “Where in the world did a princess learn to speak like that…?”
“Kuhuhu. A ruler must be well acquainted with the ways of the world, no?”
Trisha tossed the towel she had received earlier back to its owner and slouched into a more comfortable position. It looked far more natural than her previous rigid posture—and far more like the real her.
“Then shall we begin by gathering Miss Gyeoul and all the students to share everything we’ve discussed so far?”
“That sounds wise.”
Miel suddenly cried out. “Oh! Then I’ll go fetch Gyeoul! She should be alone in her room right now!”
“Gyeoul’s room?” Trisha reacted at once. “Miss Miel, may I accompany you?”
**
The instant Gyeoul took the cock into her mouth, the first overpowering sensation that flooded her was taste.
It’s salty.
What exactly was that saltiness? The flavor of the cock itself, or the precum leaking from the urethra? Curious, eager to know, Gyeoul began to move her mouth—like a child who, upon discovering something unfamiliar, immediately pops it in and sucks.
“Eup♡”
Of course, Gyeoul was no child. Simply seeing it, simply touching it with her hands—huh? No, the moment her fingers wrapped around it and her eyes drank it in, it was cock, cock♡ Hweh♡ Uhhweh♡ Cock smell♡ Cock taste♡
“Chup… chuuup…♡ Mmm, jjoop…♡”
Alejandra had told her to “suck,” so Gyeoul obediently pursed her lips and drew it in. Careful not to scrape with her teeth, she hollowed her cheeks so their soft inner walls pressed against the shaft. The glans nestled firmly♡ against the yielding roof of her mouth. Heup♡ With sincere, devoted care she caressed and tasted the cock until Alejandra could no longer endure it. The princess twitched and shuddered, leaking helpless moans.
“Ugh, krr… huuk…♡ W-wait…”
When she tried to pull her hips back and withdraw, Gyeoul’s face came along with it.
“Ugh…!”
Only after Alejandra seized Gyeoul’s head and held it still could she finally extract herself.
“Hweh…?”
Gyeoul sat with her mouth open in a daze, waiting for the thing she had been sucking to return. The glans that had just been filling her mouth hovered before her eyes once more—Alejandra’s unusually thick, vicious-looking glans. Thanks to Gyeoul’s diligent sucking and polishing, the raw cock scent had faded, replaced by the smell of her own saliva.
“Heh♡ Hehehe♡”
Gyeoul liked that. It felt as though she had left her mark on Alejandra. As though she had left her mark on that cock.
The smile was both innocent and obscene, pure yet vulgar.
Out of nowhere, Alejandra found herself wanting to slide a finger into that mouth.
…She could think of no reason not to.
She lowered the hand cradling Gyeoul’s face and slipped her thumb between those soft lips.
“Uweh…? Heh, eeh…”
Gyeoul made silly, pathetic, utterly adorable noises. Alejandra’s finger explored the hot, slippery interior of her mouth. Fascinated, she withdrew the thumb and replaced it with her index and middle fingers.
“Uhek, krrrk…”
Gyeoul trembled faintly, but Alejandra knew she wouldn’t vomit. After all, she had never once done so even when her throat had been stimulated far more brutally. So Alejandra took her time, savoring the chance to thoroughly explore the inside of Gyeoul’s mouth. The inner cheeks were silky smooth. The top of the tongue was soft and bouncy, the underside scorching hot, and saliva welled up from the grooves on either side.
“Breeeh… Heh? Uweh…♡”
When she tried to trap the tongue between her two fingers, it slipped away like a small bird refusing to be caught.
“Stay still.”
“Uweee…♡”
At the command, it obediently stopped moving. Alejandra stroked it lovingly with both fingers. Saliva pooled in the center of her palm, then trickled down her wrist. The distinctive scent of saliva—somehow mingled with the strangely sweet aroma of Gyeoul’s fluids—filled Alejandra’s nose and set her nerves alight.
Her fingers also caressed Gyeoul’s gums and teeth, places that would never be touched during normal fellatio. The most unfamiliar, most fascinating territory of all.
“Open.”
“Aaaaaah…♡”
Finally, Alejandra’s fingers moved toward the throat. She stroked the uvula, tracing slow circles along the soft walls as though twirling a finger inside the mouth of a bottle.
“Kkeoheuk♡ Kkeup♡”
Blood rushed to Gyeoul’s face as she fought the urge to gag. Tears spilled down her cheeks. Instead of her usual thin saliva, thick, sticky strands poured out in response to the throat stimulation.
At last Alejandra withdrew her fingers. They were drenched in slippery fluid, as though she had been vigorously stirring a sopping pussy.
With that same wet hand she once again cradled Gyeoul’s face. Staring directly into her eyes at point-blank range, she asked,
“Gyeoul, you’re not under hypnosis right now… are you?”
“…!!”