First Climax
The Empire’s foremost villainess, Second Princess Haze.
Compared to her mother—the Empress, hailed as the Imperial Family’s angel—she was a frail, delicate child. Knowing nothing of the world, Haze entered the Imperial Castle at just four years old, following her mother into a den of vicious political intrigue.
“Ah! At last, my child shall bear the Imperial name!”
Her mother’s joy was boundless, but young Haze’s reaction was the opposite.
Though adorned in a dazzling gown she’d never worn before and strung with jewels too precious to fathom, the child trembled with fear.
It was only natural. Even the lowest servants and maids at the Imperial Castle despised the angelic mother-daughter pair who had blinded the Emperor.
‘Filthy bloodline.’
‘All they’ve got to show for themselves is a swaying waist and a pretty face.’
‘How dare you two claim a place in the Imperial Family? Disgraceful.’
‘Poor late Empress…’
Reading the malice in those cold gazes, the terrified child clung to her mother’s skirt and cried out.
“M-Mother…!”
Haze noticed in an instant how her mother’s sky-like eyes had turned glacial.
“What’s wrong, my daughter?”
“I, I…”
The Empress gripped Haze’s small shoulder so tightly her nails dug in.
“Ugh…!”
This was a signal: *Do not resist. Accept your situation. Do not whine weakly.*
“Haze.”
The eyes were ice.
“If you become a burden that drags me down, I will abandon you.”
The Emperor was utterly captivated by the angel. But Haze’s mother was no angel—she was a cunning whore.
*I don’t want to be abandoned.*
Young Haze pondered how to earn her mother’s approval, and reached a conclusion.
‘I’ll become strong.’
From that day on, Haze committed every imaginable atrocity.
If a servant’s food didn’t suit her taste, she’d overturn it in their face as a lesson. If a dress displeased her, she’d slash it to shreds with scissors and slap the seamstress who designed it.
If *anything* fell short of perfection.
If *anything* wasn’t flawless.
Haze would rage.
But what irritated her most was the existence of the First Princess.
“Belua…”
Belua, the First Princess of the late Empress’s bloodline, was perfect in every way. Every time Haze committed an atrocity, everyone praised Belua’s virtuous character.
Each time, Haze would humiliate Belua.
She’d feed the First Princess—held up as everyone’s role model—a painful poison that left her barely alive, or tear her dress to ribbons and pour wine over her head at a banquet.
*Rip!*
“Oh, it’s you, sister? My apologies. Your outfit was so plain, I didn’t recognize you. What’s wrong?”
“You…!”
Sometimes she’d pretend not to know her and slap her anyway. Once, after an incident at a banquet, the Crown Prince had Haze locked in a prison cell for ten days without food or water.
It was as good as a death sentence.
One.
“Your Highness. I’ve come to attend you.”
*Squish!*
Haze crushed a bird fluttering near the window in her palm. She didn’t just terrify the onlookers—she tore out its throat and ate it.
“Why so late? You’re tardy.”
Haze laughed pitifully.
Second Princess Haze.
The Empire’s foremost villainess was a woman who couldn’t find satisfaction unless she dragged everyone around her down into the same misery as herself.
After all, she feared happiness more than anything in the world.
It was only natural she’d never imagined spreading her legs for a man and reaching blissful climax.
“This is getting troublesome.”
“L-Let go of me!”
Haze shoved away the hand gripping her clothes and retreated behind the bed’s pillows. Kylian furrowed his brow as the situation tangled more complexly than expected.
That the rumored Haze was a smooth, hairless cunt was one thing—but the Stigma of Lust was entirely unforeseen.
And Kylian had just barely returned to the capital after rolling through a battlefield crawling with demons.
*To be entangled with demons again in my own capital? Are they out of their minds?*
Kylian stepped down from the bed, adjusted his clothes, and approached the door.
“Wait, hold on. Where are you going?”
“I intend to annul our marriage contract.”
Haze’s shoulders hunched as if she’d never considered such a possibility. Kylian quirked his lips, as if her reaction were laughable.
“You’ve caused nothing but resentment among those around you. And now you’ve been branded with the Stigma of Lust? There’s no merit in marrying you.”
Even that stubborn Emperor would see no issue in canceling the marriage if his troublesome Second Princess had been exposed to the Stigma of Lust.
‘I wonder how she’ll react to the fact that I’m still a virgin, though.’
Not that it mattered. Just as Kylian gripped the doorknob to turn it—
“P-Please… w-wait… for me…”
A voice trembling with fear—or perhaps dripping with sultry moisture.
Kylian turned as his clothes were tugged by a force weaker than a hamster’s. Haze’s eyes, which should have been blue as starlight, looked strangely as if they were floating hearts.
“Haze… did bad… P-Please… don’t… go…”
*Pshh!*
Immediately after, the sound of her bladder giving way erupted. Perhaps she’d drunk too much water earlier—pale liquid streamed down her thighs like arousal fluid.
“U-Ugh…”
Haze glanced around frantically, unsure how to clean up the mess. She considered the blanket or bedspread, but instead chose to send Kylian a pleading look.
‘Regression?’
It was impossible for someone branded with the Stigma of Lust to remain fully sane. The curse had many side effects.
The Empire’s foremost villainess, renowned for her lofty pride, had apparently drawn the short straw: Regression of Ego.
“What would you do if I don’t leave?”
“S-Sex… We’ll have sex… Ah, baby. I want… a baby…”
“What?”
He wanted to ask if she knew what she was saying, but Kylian swallowed the question. Arguing with someone under the Stigma’s curse was foolish.
Haze walked toward the bed on legs dripping with pale liquid, then lay face-down and arched her hips high.
“Haze… wants a family… I’ll have a pretty baby and raise it…”
“Then wouldn’t it be easier to spread your legs for anyone?”
Setting aside the urine on the floor, he asked in genuine bewilderment. Haze, her face buried in the pillow, shook her head vigorously.
“S-Sluts… They’re all sluts…”
She meant the nobles who’d attended the wedding. They’d arrived with stiff erections, hoping she’d reject the marriage and throw herself at them.
‘Of course they’d only approach for her body. No way she’d be satisfied with them.’
Who was Haze? She was the daughter of the woman called the Imperial Family’s angel. The Empress had manipulated the Emperor with nothing but her looks. It was impossible for her daughter to lack ambition.
Even as the daughter of a whore, she was disgustingly picky. Haze, still holding her hips up, turned her head slightly as if bored.
“Wh-What…?”
“Shut up for a moment.”
*Schlick.* Kylian wet his index and middle fingers with saliva. Not out of consideration for her virginity.
If penetration was too tight, climax would be difficult. The Stigma of Lust didn’t allow abstinence—it demanded voracious climax to restore sanity.
The damp cunt accepted two blunt fingers without resistance.
“Hoo! Ah, agh…♥”
A virgin should’ve felt pain even from the tip of one finger. Fortunately—or unfortunately—the Stigma Haze bore converted all pain into extreme pleasure.
Kylian explored the narrow, pale-pink inner walls with his fingers, then pressed and bent the protruding spot.
“Hik! Ugh! Hah…♥”
The reaction was immediate. He couldn’t reach the cervix, so he focused solely on relieving her lust, stroking the spot with his hand.
“Hik! Heh…♥”
Animalistic sounds escaped Haze’s throat. When he stroked her glistening clit with another finger, her eyes rolled back and her back arched.
“Hik! Oh! Hah…♥”
He could feel the cunt convulsing in his hand—climax was near. Kylian moved his fingers faster, then pulled them out with a *pop* as pale liquid sprayed like a fountain.
“Haa…♥ Heh-heh-heh…♥”
Her face, turned sideways, was a spectacle. Haze, her brain melted by the first pleasure of her life, stuck out her tongue and soaked the pillowcase with saliva.
“Sex is…”
He wasn’t mad enough to have sex with a woman cursed by a magic that made her climax uncontrollably.
But to avoid disappointing her, Kylian pressed his blood-darkened cock to Haze’s lips.
“…Heh-heh.”
Haze half-lidded her eyes, slowly wrapped her lips around the glans, and licked it.
Wasn’t the condition for sanity’s return to reach climax?
Unfazed by Kylian’s confusion, Haze focused her tongue on the glans, then swallowed the base until it touched her uvula, sucking up and down.
As climax surged, Kylian instinctively grabbed Haze’s hair. Semen that should never have come flowed instantly down her throat.
“Gulp! Gulp…!”
Swallow, swallow…
Haze consumed every drop of semen, wiped her red lips with her finger, and smiled innocently.
“I ate it well…♥”
At the same moment, Haze’s body tilted backward. Watching the woman sprawl on the bed, Kylian thought: *So the condition for sanity’s return was consuming semen, after all.*
“…….”
Maybe he shouldn’t cancel the marriage.