A powdery white coating covered her reddened eyelids. Her eyelashes, adorned with thin strands of gold decoration cut like paper, felt heavy as if coated with lead.
“Princess, lift your head. Stop crying.”
Every time her carefully applied makeup crumbled beneath tears, the maids with brushes stamped their feet in annoyance. They wiped the drops from her slender chin only to find her weeping again. Beads of sweat dripped from the chins of those anxiously awaiting the Princess's arrival in the tyrant's bedroom.
"You're not a child, so what should I do if you keep crying like this? You need to look pretty for your husband, who is waiting for you."
“Get out.”
The Princess's voice trembled thinly.
“Will he really make me sleep with a snake?”
“How would I know? I just assume it’s possible because other people say it is.”
The maid called Talgar snapped nervously at the Princess's question. Her eyes glazed over, and her hands tugged roughly at the string tied around her waist.
“If you behave badly like you are now, he will do that, but if you behave well, he won’t do that.”
"But..."
"Ah! I told you not to cry. You keep talking nonsense. If you continue to be so uncooperative, I'll have no choice but to speak to His Majesty."
Talga's voice was sharp as she mentioned her father. Diara's face instantly turned pale.
"Don't do that, Talgar. Yes? I won't cry. I won't cry..."
Behind the sound of swallowing tears, the maids' hands became busier.
It was the night after the four-day welcoming banquet that followed the entry of Emperor Cardion.
Feldif is a land of warm air where flowers bloom year-round. Renowned for the beauty of its flowers and women, the banquet hall was filled from floor to ceiling with fragrant flowers. Each crystal goblet held the finest wine, and the feet of the humble dancers were adorned with glittering gold coins.
Even in the most visible places, and even in the corners that no one looked at, the flowers, food, silk, and perfumes used to please the empire were all luxurious enough to easily exceed the annual budget of a small country. If someone who didn't know saw this, they might have mistakenly thought that the King of Feldif was deeply in love with the youngest Princess, who was to be sacrificed as a tribute.
However, during the banquet, Diara locked herself in her room and cried endlessly. The thought of being dragged to the tyrant's bedroom as soon as the welcome party was over made her unable to enjoy the banquet, let alone drink a sip of water.
It was the third day of her perseverance, without eating or drinking. Her once-pure, white face had become swollen, and her once-soft cheeks had visibly thinned. The enraged King finally stormed into the Princess's chambers.
"This selfish bitch!"
The King, who had burst in like lightning, hurled a plate from the table. The silver dish containing honey and grapes clattered loudly across the floor.
"I prepared this place for you, and you dare ruin it like this? You really want to die by my hand, don't you, huh?"
“Father, Father, please...”
Diara, lying face down on the floor, crawled at the King's feet. Her sobs, resting her forehead on his instep, soaked the floor.
"I'll do my best. I'll do whatever Father tells me and be good. Please, forgive me this one time. He'll kill me. Yes?"
People say that the Emperor Cardion loved snakes more than women. His love of snakes was so great that he enjoyed flirting with the venomous snakes he kept and the women he carried.
The women who have been under his spell all have their bottoms torn and crawl on all fours.
Countless people have died from uterine rupture.
They say that those who survive will wear diapers their entire lives like newborn babies.
The chattering voices of the maids lingered in his ears like a nightmare. Instead of kicking the Princess who clung to his feet, the King knelt beside her. He removed her pale hand from his toes and held her tenderly. Diara. Diara. The sound of his daughter's name being called was as sweet as honey.
"What did you say I would do if you didn't listen?"
Diara's shoulders trembled violently, anticipating the words the King would speak. There was only one punishment he could inflict on his disobedient daughter. A wrinkled hand brushed her pale cheek, and the Princess's pale green eyes were filled with a familiar fear.
"Listen."
"Please..."
"Bring in the iron coffin for the Princess."
"Father!"
The footsteps of those retreating, despite the Princess's desperate screams, were unstoppable. The call to bring in the coffin that would hold Princess Diara echoed through the hallway.
"You will never be able to get out of there until you die."
At the cold King's words, Diara grabbed his leg as if she was about to collapse.
"Father! I was wrong, I was wrong!"
"I will. I will serve him. I will serve the Emperor." Finally, the answer the King desired emerged from the Princess's lips. Diara scrambled to her feet, picking up the food that had fallen to the floor with her bare hands. The crushed flesh gurgled down her choking throat.
“Yes, it’s done.”
While Diara held back her tears, the maid, who had safely finished dressing up, breathed a sigh of relief.
Her head was adorned with intricately carved ivory and gold leaf ornaments, and her waist, as slender as a willow, was draped in a sheer, translucent bridal gown. Her long, waist-length hair flowed like a waterfall as her white, perfumed feet danced softly.
“Oh my... You are truly dazzlingly beautiful.”
A heartfelt exclamation of admiration escaped the maid's lips as she took the princess by the hand, lifted her up, and spun her around.
Between her luscious, rosy hair, her bud-like, light green eyes seemed to gaze upon a living goddess of flowers. The lovely dimples that only appeared when she smiled were gone, but even her expressionless face was mysterious, a beauty truly worthy of the nickname "Rose of Feldif."
“No one will dare to treat the Princess carelessly when they see this.”
Diara didn't respond to the comforting words of Talgar, who was feeling relieved. A veil as thin as a dragonfly's wings draped over the bride's head, which had just finished her makeup.
Now all preparations were complete. Under the watchful eye of maids pretending to escort her, Diara headed toward the awaiting Emperor.
Diara's fingertips trembled as she stood before the bedroom door. She wished she could just faint. She briefly considered that, but it was unacceptable. If she lost consciousness now, she'd wake up in a pitch-black coffin.
The thought of a perfect prison, where not even a scream could escape, made her breath catch in her throat. It was the most terrifying hell Diara could imagine, and no other place could be more terrifying.
After making up her mind, the hesitation didn't last long. She didn't know what trouble she would face if she made the impatient Emperor wait any longer. Diara nodded to the attendant guarding the door.
Dim light seeped through the heavily opened door. She stepped onto the soft carpet and knelt on the floor.
Diaea bowed toward the bed where the Emperor would be sitting. Her heart pounded furiously, following the veil that reached down to her toes and the rippling of her vision.
“Great Sun of the Desert. I greet you, Your Majesty, the Emperor.”
Even she found the awkward greeting she learned before entering his bedroom awkward. Whether it was because of that or some other reason, she didn't receive a reply.
In the still air, only the sound of her own heartbeat could be heard loudly in her ears. Fortunately, the snake's hissing was silent, but as she lay her forehead on the floor, she became increasingly anxious.
"What should I do next?" Diara tried to remember what the maid had told her. For this day, she had memorized the forty-nine rules of etiquette, her tongue tingling.
"When meeting His Majesty the Emperor, your knees should touch the ground first, then your elbows, then your hands, and then your forehead."
Bow first, then greet. Never raise your head until you are told to do so, and after bowing, no matter what happens, never call out to him first...
As she was thinking about this, she heard a low voice from the side of the bed.
“Come here.”
Diara couldn't raise her head without being told to. She crawled closer on her knees, and he called out to her again.
Closer, closer. Diara finally crawled to the very foot of the raised bed, taking a moment to catch her breath. Suddenly, a hand reached out and snatched the veil away.
“Ugh...!”
She couldn't even groan at the pain of her hair being ripped out. A finger slid under her chin, causing Diaea to lift her head. Her heart plummeted as she met his beastly, bright yellow eyes.
Azad Rahikan, or the Great Desert Sun.
The Emperor of the vast Cardion Empire, encompassing two deserts and three major rivers, was a man known to his allies as a glory and to his enemies as a living nightmare. Even those who had never seen him before were reminded of his nickname.
The long, rosy lips and prominent nose are almost arrogant, and the eyes, contrasting fiercely with the upturned eyebrows, are languid yet elegant. Was this the face of the sun god she once saw in a temple mural?
Diara was captivated by the man's beauty and found herself staring intently at him. He briefly locked eyes with her, then slowly raised one eyebrow.
“I said I would wait until dawn.”
“Ugh...”
“You’re not a horny parrot, so why are you hanging all this stuff around? How can I even look at your face?”
The hand that grasped her chin and jerked her head as if examining her condition was incredibly rough. The ivory and gold decorations that encased her small head made a clinking sound with each turn.
“Ugh, ah, Your Majesty.”
“Don’t just call, you have to speak.”
"Come here," was the next order. Diara bit her lip.
"When concluding a speech, do not say, 'Do as you always do,' but say, 'I will certainly do it,' or 'I will do it.' When His Majesty the Emperor asks you a question, do not dare to ask him again or ask him to speak twice."
“If the decorations bother you, I, I will take them off. So please give me a little time...”
According to Feldif tradition, the bride's headdress was to be personally removed by the husband-to-be. A woman letting down her hair herself before their first night was considered a practice reserved for prostitutes, but now was not the time to discuss such matters.
Every time Diara shook her head, a sharp ivory spike stabbed the back of her neck mercilessly. It hurt so much that tears welled up in her eyes.
At this rate, she couldn't lie flat or lean to her side. If she were forced to lie down, she would get cut and stabbed by the sharp comb, leaving her covered in blood. Diara pleaded, "Please, let me let go of my hair first," and Rahikan released her with a flick of her chin.
“Hurry up. I’ve been waiting for a while already.”
Diara, who had obtained the Emperor's permission, hurriedly raised her hand and began to take off her headdress.
While the Emperor was unraveling the intricately tangled chains of ornamentation, his hand reached down and flicked open the thin bridal gown, revealing the inside. As the lace-fastened front sash unraveled, her smooth, white breasts, as if polished from white porcelain, were revealed.
A hand brushed past her sunken belly and slender waist, seemingly graspable by a handful, and grabbed her chest. She shuddered for a moment at the sudden grip. He slapped her elbow away, which flinched involuntarily.
“Stop being a fool and let your hair down.”
With no other choice, both arms rose again. Her soft, white breasts were crushed between the man's fingers.
He squeezed it tightly enough to catch her nipple, then wiggled it up and down, making a rippling sound. He then placed her nipple between his fingers and rubbed it. Diara, at a loss, simply shrugged, her shoulders twitching as he played with her nonchalantly, as if he were playing with a toy.
“Ugh...”
He laughed in disbelief at the thin groan.
“Look at this. You made a man wait, and now you’re feeling it all alone?”
“Ahhh!”
A slap! A slap landed on her nipple. A flash of light flashed before her eyes, causing Diara to jump from her seat.
“Ah, ahh... ahhh...”
“Where are you going?”
As he grabbed her hair and pulled her as she tried to run away, Doarq, who was now on all fours, was dragged between his legs, panting.
“You’re obscenely shaking your breasts. It looks like you’re deliberately trying to get me to touch you more.”
“Oh, no, uh, no...”
Even if she gave up on the gold tassel on her forehead and tried to remove the sharp ivory pendant, it wasn't as easy as she thought.
Above all, standing in front of a man she never met before, with both hands raised and her chest exposed as if she were being punished, she felt like she was going crazy with shame. Jer fingers kept losing strength, and cold sweat poured down her back like rain.
“Well, the hair decoration is complicated, so I can’t see it well...”
"I never asked to be touched," she pleaded, tears welling up in her eyes as she groaned. He reached out with a click of his tongue.
“Why did you bring something like this?”
“Ahh.”
Something deeply embedded in her head was suddenly ripped out. The ivory thorn, which had remained unsnapped for a long time, flew to the floor with a shattered sound. Her red hair flowed down, covering the jer pale face like a veil.
"It's okay?"
Diara's already small face was half-hidden, leaving only herlarge, doe-like eyes. He grabbed her chin and pulled her face between his legs.
“Yes, now that you’ve let your hair down, it’s time to get to work.”
"Ah..."
“You came here to eat this, right?”
The bulging hem of his trousers pricked her lips. Beneath the thin fabric, the man's erect penis was already hot.
As she was putting her mouth on the thick, warm cloth, he opened his eyes dimly and smiled.
“Suck it.”
It had come. Her hands, pulling down his pants, trembled with fear.
A forearm-sized pillar of flesh jutted out from the loosened fabric. In contrast to his elegant face, the crimson pillar was a hideous sight, its blue veins entangled like vines.
A thick, musky scent wafted from the squirting, unidentifiable liquid. The sight of the man's thing, squelching and tapping her face like a living, breathing creature, was so terrifying and repulsive that she felt like she was going to die.
As Diara brought her lips to the tip of the throbbing spear, the first thing she felt was the soft, hot sensation of raw flesh. Then, a bitter, fishy taste permeated her senses.
Just swallowing the glans made jer cheeks swell like a candy. As she bit down on the thing that filled her mouth to the brim, her eyes widened slightly as she looked up. The hand gripping her hair tightened.
“Why are you looking at me like that? You’re so pretty.”
“Whoohoo.”
“Let go. Open your throat so my dick can go in.”
He pushed away her hand, gripping the pillar and pressing it against the back of her head. The thing in jer mouth slowly advanced inside. The heavy member pressed against her tongue and prodded her throat. The moment her Adam's apple was pressed, her stomach churned.
“Whew! Cough!”
A wet cough poured out. The cock she had barely managed to swallow halfway fell out, and the glans she had been biting hit her hard in the eye.
“I didn’t tell you to spit it out.”
“Ah, ah, yes, just a moment...”
The nausea wouldn't stop, as if someone had forced a fist down her throat. Her vision went white, then black again. Regardless, her head lifted as her hair was held tightly, and his cock rubbed against her panting lips again.
“Get your hands off me. Do you want me to say it twice?”
There was annoyance in his sigh-like voice. He could sense that her clumsy bedside manner was wearing thin his patience.
“You must never speak to the Emperor twice..."
The maid's voice echoed through her heated mind. Diara's sweet lips sought his and bit him. As soon as she opened her mouth, a sharp, weapon-like shaft of flesh plunged into her esophagus.
“Ouch! Ugh, ugh!”
“Put your tongue down, open your jaw. Your teeth will touch.”
At the lowered voice, she desperately opened her jaw. While she tried to keep her lips shut and somehow keep her teeth from brushing against his, Rahikan grabbed her head and began to ram it into a hole.
Tsk tsk, squeak, squeak. A thick pillar forcibly opened her throat, forcing it in and then slowly exiting. Saliva, unable to be swallowed, hung like glue from her jaw, which had been stretched to its limit, and tears and snot poured out like streams. As her narrowed esophagus gripped the pillar, he let out a languid sigh, seemingly in good spirits.
The testicles that dangled and hit her chin every time he slammed his butt, and the pubic hair that poked her nose were all horrible, but the biggest hardship was not being able to breathe.
Foamy fluid flowed from Diara's mouth, following her rapid exhalations. His lush pubic hair brushed against her, jer hands groping his stomach, his wrists, his thighs, wandering before finally grasping the blanket.
Her breathing was so poor that her fingertips and toes felt numb. Just when I thought she might die, his grip on the back of her head tightened. He pulled the thick glans out until it latched onto her front teeth, then pushed it all the way back in, all the way to the root.
“Ouch!”
"Ha..."
With a growling slurp, hot semen poured straight down the esophagus from the tip of the writhing spurt.
“Ugh! Ugh, ugh... Ugh...!”
“Swallow it all. Don’t waste a drop. If you spill even a single drop, you’ll be in trouble.”
Diara was terrified by his words and, clutching her chin, clung to his lower abdomen.
The cum that poured in like spurts poured out like urine. She drank in the endless stream, savoring the afterglow of his ejaculation, slowly rubbing his now-slick glans against her mouth.
He twisted his waist, smearing semen all over her mucous membranes and rubbing her molars as if brushing her teeth. The woman's moans were mixed with the man's occasional slurping.
Finally, with a loud bang, the inside of her mouth was completely swept away, and she felt like it had been burned.
“Keuheup, uhk... Heuk, heuk...”
A mixture of tears, snot, saliva, and ejaculate soaked through her face, chest, and even the floor. The makeup she's painstakingly applied to make herself look even slightly more attractive had already disintegrated. When Diara wiped her face with the back of her hand, a sticky, starch-like white powder came off.
While she wiped her chin, Rahikan removed his half-unbuttoned robe. In the dim light, his shoulders, revealed to be more like massive boulders than shoulders, looked more like shoulders.
The muscles tightly clung to his limbs, stretched out like a stallion, and squirmed like snakes with every movement. Diara shuddered, overwhelmed by the sight.
This man could probably break her slender neck with one hand.
If he wanted, he could take her life as easily as exterminating a bug, without even bothering to lift a knife. No, not just her, but everyone would become insignificant before him.
The thought of his bloodied soldiers returning from the War completely melted away whatever fighting spirit she had left. Even her fearsome father, or even Feldif's elite troops, couldn't stand a chance against this man.
The one she was now facing, naked, was such a being. As Diara's fear surpassed its limits, her heart began to calm.
Rahikan took off his shirt and threw it carelessly onto the bed. He lay down, half leaning back, and patted the bed next to him.
“Come here.”
Diara wiped away her tears, crawled onto the bed, and knelt beside him.
The cock, which had just ejaculated beneath the thick, bushy pubic hair, was still erect. She couldn't take her eyes off the throbbing shaft that had reached her navel.
When their eyes met, he chuckled. He lay there, his head propped up in one hand, his eyes narrowed, his smiling face making her gasp.
“What’s this on a grown Princess’ face? Spit, tears, cum.”
“Oh, I’m sorry.”
“If you’re sorry, wipe it. You spilled it while eating, and now I’m dirty too.”
As he gently scratched her clitoris, which was sticking up, she gasped and rubbed her thighs.
Unable to do anything, she pulled her trembling knees completely toward him. He lowered his head and turned her waist, so she was lying flat on her stomach, her butt pressed against his.
In that state, the front of the dress was undone, and the bride's clothes were completely removed. A short sigh escaped his lips as the woman's naked body was revealed in the dim candlelight.
"Ha."
The spine that cut across her slender back was as deep as a valley. Her small buttocks, perfectly proportioned, shone milky white, and between them, a rosy, ripe vagina, as red as a flower, blossomed. Her plump, plump breasts, as plump as her voluptuous thighs, seemed the most voluptuous part of a woman's body.
He rubbed around the throbbing hole, then inserted one finger. The sudden insertion caused her vaginal opening to tighten in surprise.
“Ah, ahhh...”
Thick fingers spread open her vagina and delved deep inside. As if exploring unknown territory, they groped and rubbed her vagina, leaving her momentarily flustered. But soon, a pain as if her lower body were about to fall out followed.
Following the squelching sensation below, Diara felt a hole she hadn't even known existed opening. The strange, foreign sensation, a sensation she's never felt before, sent chills down her tight, swollen bottom. A groan escaped her clenched lips, and sweat broke out on her palms, her back, and even the nape of her neck.
He pushed another finger in while she held onto the bedding and resisted his merciless touch.
“Haaaaaah.”
“This is a bit too narrow.”
He muttered, his fingers spreading apart like scissors, having forced them all the way to the root. Squelch, squelch— Diara's mouth snapped shut as soon as it opened, jer vagina biting his fingers as if it were chewing them.
If he kept thrusting like this, it would tear before he could enjoy it. As he increased the speed and thrust a little more, Diara made a groaning sound and shook her butt.
“Ah, ah, it hurts...”
“It hurts.”
"What did you do to deserve this?" he snickered.
"If you're making a death noise after just two fingers, I wonder how you've ever taken a dick. Those Feldif guys must have pretty small dicks."
“Or maybe I just ate it backwards.”
As he rubbed her throbbing anus with his thumb, she writhed wildly. Burying her face in the blanket, she tried to crawl forward, but was suddenly dragged backward.
“Ah, no, huh, huh, something like that, ah...!”
The finger that had been probing and probing deep inside her withdrew. The pain of her bottom falling out as the filling inside her was drawn away was fleeting, but Rahikan lifted her waist. In an instant, her body flipped over. Her flat thighs clung tightly to her breasts.
Her throbbing vagina was clearly visible between her legs, her buttocks raised high. Diara flailed in terror, her calves thumping against his rock-hard shoulders.
“Don’t struggle and stay still.”
Even considering the petite physique of the Feldif compared to the Cardionians, the woman was remarkably delicate. The sight of the body, seemingly ready to fly away with a single sneeze, writhing in his hand, was a ticklish sensation.
"Clap!" The slap on my buttocks quickly calmed my struggling body. Instead, a hiccup escaped my tightly shut mouth. Rahikan watched intently as the gaping hole, barely the size of a booger, slowly contracted, following the sound of my breath.
“Is this your first time sucking a man’s cock?”
“...Yes, oh, yes.”
“Have you ever received it with your eyes, let alone with your mouth?”
“Oh, no, no, no.”
Her reckless actions had long since destroyed the hard-earned manners of speaking. It was impossible to even think of strict etiquette in this state.
"No. No, Your Majesty." The woman's voice, ashamed and embarrassed, crept in.
“Hmm.”
Rahikan's eyes narrowed at the unexpected answer. He'd asked because he thought her reaction, which made her flinch at the slightest touch, was so unusual, but he never expected it to be so accurate.
He clicked his tongue in embarrassment. A virgin? Who would force an innocent girl into serving as the Emperor's one-night stand?
“What should I do? I don’t really like virgins.”
He rubbed her clitoris with his palm, squeezing it until it squeaked. At the man's dry touch, the woman moaned, neither backing away nor actively opening her mouth to ask.
I should have known from the moment you started biting my dick and making me squeal.
He clicked his tongue again. It would be a mess to start over something that never happened, and it was also incredibly tiresome to lull this little brat into a one-night stand. Should I even call the King to hand over another woman?
“What do you want to do? Do you want to go back?”
"Yes yes?"
“Are you going to do more here?”
The calf-like eyes shook wildly at the sound of his question, which only bit off two fingers. He poked the inner wall of her belly button a couple of times, as if urging, and her soft buttocks tightened.
“Th, th, th... I... Wh, what, are you talking about?”
“I asked if you wanted me to poke you with my penis.”
The force that had been building up from her anus to her perineum seemed to be trying to close her vagina. Rahikan laughed, seeing that the force she exerted to push was actually begging for more thrusting. With every move, her body, like a frog, was becoming more and more erotic.
“Who would be rude enough to answer with their lower lip?”
He hit the hole with a loud thud.
“Haaa!”
A sharp pain spreads down below.
Diara, who had jumped lightly and landed, unconsciously placed her bottom against his palm and rubbed it frantically. Her burning skin stung, making tears well up in her eyes.
The hit vagina trembled, gushing hot liquid, and not only the cold vaginal opening but also the inner walls trembled.
“What the hell is this? Are you trying to shove it in?”
“No, ahh, no...”
“No, really. Even though I’m right, you keep squirting, and your asshole is agape.”
At the sound of a low laugh, her large eyes blinked rapidly, as if holding back tears. But even with her face weeping with displeasure, her throbbing hole couldn't hide its excitement.
As he lowered his eyes, the warm flesh he held in his hand filled his vision, dizzyingly. Beneath the soft, rosy pubic hair, like hair, the swaying flesh was a deep azalea color. The small, black hole between the bulging masses, squeezing with every breath, was so tempting that he wanted to bury his head in it.
The warm flesh clung to his palm, and his lust, which had been momentarily sluggish, boiled over as if it were a lie. Rahikan lowered his head and buried his lips in the gap between the two.
“Kka, heuk, shall we clasp hands...? Clasp hands?”
“You will suck my dick whenever I want.”
“Yes, yes, Your Majesty.”
Diara nodded hastily at the question, which seemed to be a retort. Perhaps he was satisfied with the answer. The man's eyes narrowed, and the corners of his red lips sagged.
As if seeing something funny, or just something new, the lips that had been drawn with a curved line burst out in laughter.
“It’s cute.”
“Ugh...”
“It’s cute, but...”
His mouth tilted over her panting lips. He continued to chuckle softly as he bit her upper and lower lips simultaneously and lightly licked the gaping slit.
The warmth of the man spreading across their touching chests and the slow beating of her heart made her feel like she was being crushed by a massive beast, not a human. Their lips touched, parted, and then reconnected, their tongues brushing against each other several times.
“I think the innocent Princess is mistaken about something.”
"... Yes?"
"Think about it. You're my offering. So you're mine now."
“...”
“When I want something, isn’t it natural for me to use it as I want?”
The disposition of an object rests solely with the owner. And now that she was his, her use and disposal were entirely at his discretion. The voice, reminding her of a forgotten fact, was cruelly gentle.
“So, from now on, you have to wait for me with your mouth, your vagina, or even your asshole open whenever I want, without me having to ask for your permission.”
Despair flashed across the woman's face at the whispered voice. Wet eyelashes clung to her azure eyes, their trembling like torn flower petals.
“Isn’t that so?”
As he licked away the falling tears with his tongue, he felt the arms wrapped around his neck tremble slightly.
“That, that, of course... but... but...”
“But what?”
He climbed onto Diara's body, thrusting his cock between her legs and slowly moving back and forth. He placed the glans between her bulging pubic muscles and rubbed it as if he was about to insert it.
“If you listen well, I can treat you a little better.”
Squeak squeak. The soaking wet skin clung to each other and then separated, making a lewd sound. As the rock-like glans repeatedly slid halfway into and out of the slippery entrance, Diara's face grew increasingly red.
The woman's breathing became ragged as he rubbed and rubbed her clitoris, which had been raised to the tip of his shaft. Her plump labia majora licked and licked the top of his shaft.
Unable to bear it any longer, he grabbed Diara's thighs and pinned her down, aligning his blunt penis with her entrance and thrusting it in.
“Ahhh!”
The boulder-like tip pushed deep into the fingernail-sized hole. The flesh that had been squelching against the flesh that had been thrust in together tightened, as if about to tear, and she heard a sound of something tearing from within. Or perhaps it was the sound of her pelvis opening. Her entire body tingled, as if every bone in her body, not just her stomach, had been torn apart.
Surprised by the first intrusion, her inner walls spasmed. Instinctively, the hole tightened and released, desperately trying to contain the man, clenching tightly around him as if it had teeth. A gasp escaped Rahikan's lips at the dizzying stimulation.
“Relax down there.”
“Ah, ah... ah...”
Rahikan, who was looking down at the panting Diara from above, put his weight on her waist and pressed her down.
“I told you to take your strength out.”
“Ugh! Ugh! Ugh!”
Pok, pok, pok. With each thrust of his hips, the forearm-sized dick was swallowed finger by finger. Diara's mouth gaped open as if she were receiving it with her mouth.
Finally, after completely consuming the entire shaft, down to the root, the piling-like thrusting motions ceased. The crimson hole, stretched to its limit, trembled as it bit the sturdy pillar.
"Ha..."
He patted the inside of her thigh as he brushed her sweat-soaked hair back.
“Don’t hold on, just relax here. Then you can move.”
“Ugh...”
“I told you to relax. Are you going to keep being stubborn?”
Diara's eyes fluttered in confusion. His voice was clear, but she couldn't make out a single word. Every time his fingertips touched her, she could feel the flesh clinging to her, trembling.
Even though it was her own body, it was a place she'd lived her entire life without even realizing it existed before she met him. Her mind went blank, as if she had been given a difficult assignment.
“Uh, I don’t know what to do, ugh, I don’t know, uh. I, I’m not doing it on purpose, it just feels tiring on its own...”
Even if he just put it in, Diara was out of breath and would fall down.
“Uh, how do you do it, ugh, please teach me....”
As she shuddered, unable to move a finger, the corners of his mouth curled up. A laugh, perhaps incredulous, perhaps amused, rippled through her stomach. The man's upper body tilted, and his picturesque face came closer to her nose. Long fingers brushed under her trembling eyes and dabbed the damp bridge of her nose.
Unbelievably vulgar words flowed from the lips of the lofty Emperor. Diara's face flushed a deep red, then began to change color from red to blue.
Whether or not he did, the man's eyes that met hers were as calm as ever, and his languid lips were so elegant that she couldn't believe he had said such a thing.
"No?"
“...Uh, how...”
“If you don’t like it, then don’t say it.”
“No, just a moment... Ah, ah! Ugh, ugh, hagh...!”
Rahikan didn't wait. The belated plea was swallowed by a groan that seemed to be about to burst out.
Diara's ribs shook violently, as if they were going to break, as he kneaded her chest and heaved her waist. Her back arched like a bow, her toes lifted high, and her strong toes gripped the bedding.
Thud, thud, thud thud thud. A dull pain stabbed down below. Every time the red pillar moved in and out, a piece of flesh was torn off and buried deep inside, and the hole, which had grown so wide that it could no longer open, made a crunching sound like teeth gnashing.
As she bucked and bucked, her struggling body was pushed to the edge of the bed. Her vision was thrown upside down as her head, having lost its support, dropped sharply. Her hair, like a waterfall, cascaded down, covering the floor like a torrent of water.
He turned his back as he leisurely chased after her, then grabbed Diara's wrists with one hand and smiled.
“Where are you going like that?”
“Ah, ah, ah...”
“Does it hurt that much?”
He pulled it out deeply and pushed it in slowly, asking,
“Ah, ah, it hurts...”
“If I tell you to open it, open it, and if I tell you to shake it, shake it.”
“Ugh, uh...”
“What if you say you can’t do it before you even start?”
I can't. I can't do this. Diara wept bitterly, as if she had become a child. Stories of all the women who had received him crawling on all fours floated through her mind. Now she understood why. The problem wasn't the snake's head, but what was at stake.
If you stick something this huge in there, the hole will be ruined. There's no way you can teach something like this. Tears welled up at the corners of her eyes, running down her temples and onto her forehead.
Rahikan stroked her messy hair and made a soothing sound, as if he was soothing a child.
Shh, shh, good girl. He stroked the edge of his chin, which had fallen back, and slowly rubbed the inside. Leaning on that hand, she rubbed the tip of her nose, and a low laugh escaped him. "You're being a brat," he muttered.
But unlike his soft voice, the way he rubbed the wall was merciless. Each time the rounded, heavy object squelched the hole, her fingers and toes curled and uncurled, as if grasping the air.
“Can you stand it?”
Finally, he pressed firmly against the cervix, asking gently, "I'll push this far in. Can you hold it?" A blunt object gently pressed against the inside, as if asking, "I'll push this far in. Can you hold it?" His face was obscured by her upturned vision, and the sensation of the pounding in her stomach became even more vivid.
“Don’t lose your mind. If you faint, you’ll get in trouble.”
Ugh, ugh. Instead of an answer, a thin snail rang out.
“Yeah, that’s good.”
Instead of her head, he stroked her erect nipple as if he were stroking her head. His rock-hard palm patted the tender bump and gently squeezed her breast. For a moment, his gentle touch put her mind at ease.
“Ah, ah! ah! Ah!”
He pressed his pelvis against hers, suddenly increasing his speed and thrusting upward. As if it had been nothing more than a joke, the unbelievable speed of the stimulation made Diara let out a scream-like moan.
No, no, ah, ah, ah! A short, shallow slap followed the cracking scream, mercilessly pounding her stomach.
Bang bang bang bang! Something was hammering into my uterus. The heat that had been crawling between her legs shot up her tailbone and spine like lightning, gripping the back of her neck. Her muscles tightened as if bitten by a giant claw, and she trembled uncontrollably.
Every time something thick and hard scraped relentlessly against her flesh, goosebumps ran down Diara's body. The repeated friction made the interlocking points burn, almost as if they were on fire, ready to melt.
“Ah, ah, ah, ah!”
Her thighs clung tightly to his as her moans grew louder. She kept her buttocks pressed against the floor, lifting her waist high so her navel rested against his lower abdomen.
More, more, more.
The trigger was thrusting into her hole, and she didn't even realize that the pain that felt like her bottom was being torn apart had already been replaced by a dizzying pleasure. Her body, desperately trying to open her vagina and suck in more of the pleasure pouring in, was completely out of her control.
“Yes, stop tightening it. Ugh, it’s going to tear.”
The knee, pushing between her clam-like thighs, opened them wide. Her thighs, swaying with the force, now pressed firmly against his waist.
As both hands were held, the sound of flesh slapping against flesh could be heard from afar. Not even her occasional sobs or his low growls, nothing else reached her ears.
She felt as if she was impaled on a harpoon, unable to move; her stomach rumbled with each thrust. Her flesh, crushed by the merciless beatings, clung to his flesh and fell off.
The sight that had been flashing white flashed like a lightning bolt and then suddenly became pitch black as if she had been covered in ink.
“Haaak...!”
With a short groan, the woman's back arched dizzyingly, as if it were about to break. She floated in the air, her widened bottom pressed against his lower abdomen, and shuddered.
It was the first orgasm Diara had ever experienced since she was born.
While her orgasm, unaware of its climax, gripped the pillar and convulsed, Rahikan wrapped one hand around Diara's wrists and gently caressed her arched back with the other. The fluid overflowing from their joints dripped from the tip of her tailbone, soaking his hand with its sticky texture.
“Whew... what is this...”
The woman's skin was dazzlingly white and smooth, like sand sifted through a hundred times. It seemed as if it would flow through his fingers, but then bounced back elastically, clinging tightly to his palm.
As he stroked the area between her soft buttocks and the hard tailbone, he sighed involuntarily at the sensation of her inner walls vibrating from the inside where the glans was embedded to the entrance where the root was bitten.
He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her toward him. Thump, thump, light kisses trailed from her shoulder to the nape of her neck. Each time his lips brushed against her sticky skin, a tingling sensation ran down her spine, as if a mouse were about to fly.
The body that had been trembling shed a few more hot liquids, and the breath that had been panting as if it were about to fall changed into a light texture that felt like it was about to fly away.
“Wake up.”
He must have noticed that Diara was about to lose her mind, so he lightly slapped her cheek and laughed.
“Huh, huh...”
He grabbed her flushed cheek and forced her to look at him. Her dilated pupils were unfocused and shaking, and she looked as if she were about to faint. A few more pats to her cheek finally brought her eyes, which looked like soft, bead-like beads, back to him.
"Don't come to your senses. I haven't even started yet, and you want to finish it by yourself."
“That, that's not...”
"What?"
“Ugh... That, that’s enough...”
He burst out laughing at the sight of her speaking informally with her eyes half-closed.
“Oh, stop it.”
A large, fork-like hand gripped her slender neck and pressed down on the spot where her groin was. The sensation of the force cutting off her air and clogging her blood vessels was the first thing that struck her face, a terrible pain.
"Ah...!"
The muscles in her body, once completely relaxed, tightened as if pulled by a string. Diara's eyes widened, as if they were about to pop out. Her trembling hand struggled to tear away the thick hand wrapped around her neck.
"The King of Feldif sent me a pretty-faced fool. Who would think you were a well-bred Princess, but you're so spoiled."
“Ouch, ugh, ugh!”
“You don’t know how to spread it, you don’t know how to suck it. You’re so impatient... Even if I try to thrust it gently, huh?”
“Ugh, cough, cough..."
“Aren’t you going to spread your legs wide?”
The sound of laughter, as he turned his waist around, was low and ferocious.
Following the man's slow, groaning movements, a heavy, dull pain crashed down on Diara's head. Instead of her clogged windpipe, her gill-like openings flared, growing hotter and hotter. With each gasp, natural tears streamed down her face.
“Breathe.”
“Huk! Haa, haa, hak...!”
“Huh...Yes.”
Even when she scratched and hit his arm, he wouldn't budge. Only when her vision was starting to dizzy did he briefly release the grip, then tighten it again, as if pulling back on the reins. Once, twice, three times. Once again, twice. Diara couldn't come to her senses because of the irregular rhythm of her breathing.
"Ah."
A long stream of saliva flowed from above, dripping down into her gaping mouth. At the same time, the grip on her throat loosened as if by magic. The lukewarm saliva, moistening her parched mucous membranes with the oxygen of a refreshing shower, was so welcome it brought tears to her eyes.
“Ah, ugh...”
Her flushed face and bloodshot eyes searched for him. He looked down at her pitifully quivering lips, smiling, and spat again. The thick, white liquid was sucked into her crimson mouth, leaving no residue. She licked every last drop, even the dripping liquid running down her lower lip, several times, thoroughly consuming it.
Soon, Diara learned to breathe only when he allowed her to. When pressed, she would hold her breath as if diving, then wait for a moment for him to release her, then inhale air. Once she learned this, being strangled felt no different from being kissed.
At one point, the flashing lights before her eyes suddenly became pitch-black. Her ears began to ring, and her limbs felt heavy, as if she were sinking into a swamp. The hand that had been struggling to claw at him dropped to the ground and grabbed the blanket.
Her thighs spasmed intermittently, pounding against his pelvis, and Diara unconsciously began to buck her hips and rub her lower body. She pulled back halfway, thrusting deeply, and rubbed his glans against the soft cervix, squeezing the shaft with her throbbing vaginal opening.
She rocked back and forth, making a squeaking sound. The shallow movement of the things filling her body was spine-chillingly pleasurable. Her trembling body became quiet, and the only sound in the now-silent room was the sound of her gaping hole squeaking as it swallowed him.
The flickering candlelight danced over her snake-like body, slippery with sweat. Even the dull ache that had been making her head spin had long since transformed into a deep, weighty pleasure.
“Ha... You eat so greedily.”
Rahikan's lips overlapped Diara's. He licked her teeth with his long tongue and swirled it around her quivering mouth. "Tsssssss," he said, sucking as if to pull out her tongue's root. Slowly, their tongues met and rubbed against each other. He nipped and sucked the small tongue that was swirling around him, then pulled out his long tongue and viciously licked the gaping mouth.
“Is it that delicious?”
“Huh, uhhh…”
A sigh escaped her lips, regretting the brief separation. Diara, barely able to resist the urge to cling to him and rub her lips against his, suddenly trembled with self-loathing.
"Good."
"Again."
“Gah, ahh, ahh, haah!”
“I can’t understand what you’re saying. Why don’t you speak properly?”
The hand that had been kneading and squeezing her breasts slapped her nipples with a loud thud. A tingling sensation, like being whipped, shot through her chest from the peak. Then, a hand gently pressed and pulled her nipples, sending goosebumps through her body as if electrified.
“Huh, huh...”
“Tell me exactly what you’re thankful for and how you did it for me.”
Her fallen head rose again at the touch of a hand, grabbing and pulling her hair. Her vision distorted, and her eyes, trembling as if about to spill over, searched for him, her neck bent backward.
The dim light from the thatched roof illuminated his gleaming yellow eyes. His eyes, gleaming with heat, resembled the scorching sun.
The Emperor of Cardion. The great desert sun. He was a merciless god, a clawed demon. A chill filled her stomach. Feeling the pressure of his thrusts, Diara opened her trembling mouth with all her might.
“Yeah. Stick it in your pussy.”
“Thank you, sir. Yes, thank you.”
After chewing her tongue several times and finally giving him a satisfactory answer, their lips, which had briefly parted, finally met again. She desperately bit down on the tongue thrust deep into her throat, almost piercing it.
Their slick, slimy tongues entangle like two greedy snakes, exploring each other. As she tasted him, sucked him, and shook him, her heart pounded so hard it felt like it was going to burst, tearing at her skin. It wasn't just where they were intertwined, but everywhere he touched, it ached. Just the touch of his soaking, slippery skin, his soft, damp hair, his firm chest and thighs sent goosebumps up her face.
As she clung to him, rubbing her buttocks, he responded by pulling Diara's thighs closer. Her body, drawn in, was completely hidden beneath the man's shadow. Pressed down by his massive, armor-clad form, she felt as if every bone in her body would crumble.
And soon the second climax hit her like lightning.
The woman, who had reached the heights she had longed for, gasped and groaned. Just as her screams, like shreds, were about to burst, his galloping movements suddenly stopped. Rahikan, who had thrust deep inside Diara, unleashed his ejaculation.
The sunlight streaming through the window was dazzling. Feldif, with its year-round mild climate, traditionally favored the style of veiling wide, round windows with thin, veil-like fabrics. A breeze blew from outside, caressing her face.
Diara, who had been blinking in a daze, suddenly sat up. Beneath the thin blanket that had slid down, her sticky body was still naked.
It's crazy.
Her clenched lips stung sharply. Not just her lips, but her entire body ached, as if she had been thoroughly beaten.
Rahikan, lying next to her, was as silent as death. She slowly rose, trying not to wake the man, but a long arm suddenly reached out and grabbed her waist, pulling her closer.
“Ah, Your Majesty.”
"Hmm."
Rahikan, who had been lying face down, rolled over onto his side and trapped Diara in his arms. Her body was crushed by steel-like arms, and even though she tried to resist with a gentle push, he didn't budge. Instead, his grip tightened, suffocating her.
“Ah, Your Majesty.”
“Yeah, yes. Yes, I understand. Stop calling me.”
The hand that had reached under the blanket grasped her swollen chest. Its caressing gesture was unhesitating, as if it had been his from the beginning.
Trapped between his broad, strong shoulders, unable to move, Diara felt like a mouse held captive by a giant. His hot body emanated a faint scent of sweat, a subtle fleshy odor, and the musky scent she's been smelling all night.
“I thought your name was Diara?”
“Yes, yes, Your Majesty.”
“Hmm...”
The man's voice, as if just waking from sleep, was sharp. He rubbed the bridge of his nose against Diara's round shoulder, then spun her around and laid her down.
Something brushed against her lower abdomen, rising between his rock-like thighs. Diara moaned softly. The sensation of the dick moving in and out of her bottom last night was eerily familiar.
Even as she passed out, woke up, and passed out again, it was still there, like a lie. The hole that had bitten the vicious pillar all night still gaped open, leaving her with a sense of emptiness and numbness.
“Flower. Not a name befitting a lewd woman.”
Her slender body, seemingly small enough to be caught in a handful, was covered in the marks he had left behind. Her pale skin, caked with dried semen, was mottled with bite marks and sucking marks, and bluish bruises bloomed across her breasts.
The bulging lips, chewed and sucked to the point of peeling skin, were as swollen as the swollen eyelids, a sight unseen by any other carp. Yet, strangely, the sight didn't bother him. In fact, he much preferred the disheveled appearance of the previous night, when it had come in adorned with decorations.
Rahikan tilted his head and slowly sucked Diara's lips. Her blood-stained lips were salty yet sweet.
“From now on, I will call you Lara.”
Lara. In the Imperial tongue, it meant snake. Specifically, it meant a snake with a reddish hue, like a flower. It seemed like a fitting name for a woman with a sleek body that shone like a snake's scales. Just thinking about the hole that had bitten and squeezed him, whining, made her seem more like a snake than a flower.
His lips, sweeping down her chin, took a large bite of her plump breast. He rubbed his tongue against her nipple and licked the pink areola, making a slurping sound.
“Huh... Ugh...”
The body squirming beneath him tickled. He, absorbed in sucking her breasts, thrust his raging precum between the woman's thighs.
As he slowly rubbed between her legs, Diara groaned, her hips bucking. As he spread her fleshy flesh with his blunt glans and rubbed her throbbing entrance, her moans grew louder. Of course, it wasn't a reaction of pleasure, but of pain.
Up until now, every woman who'd spent their first night with him couldn't even walk, let alone sit, the next day. Even without looking, he could feel their swollen lower abdomens, so it was clear they were probably dying, too. Sure enough, the backs of their hands, clenched and flailing against the blankets, were pale.
“Push your thighs together.”
Regardless, Rahikan was only interested in rubbing his heated shaft against the woman's body. The smooth, slender thighs, in contrast to her ample breasts, felt so good that he sighed as they clung to his cock. The head of his cock, thrusting through the swell of flesh, poked and poked her pussy.
“Ugh, ugh, ugh...”
The moan that barely escaped through her clenched teeth made his heart race. Unable to suppress the urge, he forcibly spread the swollen flesh and pushed the glans halfway in.
Contrary to expectations that she would scream and struggle, Diara opened her eyes wide and gasped briefly, offering no resistance. Instead, her hand, clutching the bedding and flapping, scratched his thigh a couple of times.
The cramped interior of her vagina was filled with the cum he'd ejaculated overnight. Instead of dried-up love juice, the cum that gushed out with every press of her entrance became the lubricant he needed.
As he pushed and pulled, rubbing up and down, making a creaking sound, the flesh that was clinging to him grew hotter and hotter.
"Ha..."
Should I just poke it in like this, all the way to the roots?
The woman's reaction, squealing at the slightest movement, even as if she were biting the tip of a spear and squirming, was truly satisfying. The thought of her pussy, now even tighter than yesterday, clenching and jerking around his cock sent a tingling sensation through his lower abdomen.
Rahikan, who had been conflicted, quickly changed his mind. He and his army were scheduled to leave Feldif before sunset today. With the long journey ahead of them, he realized that if he succumbed to the temptation now, her frail body might be ruined.
“Spread your legs.”
"Ah..."
Despair filled her eyes, shaking with her feeble breathing. What did he do? She frowned, dumbfounded.
A pale hand groped beneath her knee. Finally, the gap between her legs, now wide open, was swollen and red, as expected.
Rahikan, holding the thick pillar in his hand, placed it against Diara's thigh and began to stroke it. Each time his long fingers stroked the massive shaft, a slapping sound was heard. Each time the hot, round tip poked the inside of her thigh, the woman shuddered slightly.
He let it out without suppressing the rapidly rising sensation. The semen that poured out onto his palm was thin, like water. Even after smearing it between the woman's legs, the remaining fluid dripped down between his fingers.
“Yes, ah.”
He brought his clammy hand to her lips and shook it, causing the woman to blush and look down. Her lips, slightly parted, approached and gently nipped at his fingertip. The liquid dripping down the back of his hand was sucked, drop by drop, between her puckered lips.
His fingers were thick and long, too thick to fit in Diara's mouth. She bit them, making her cheeks bulge, and her small tongue, flicking between his fingers, was as red as a flower petal.
Despite her seemingly submissive demeanor, her strangely lecherous gestures aroused a sense of sadism. He curled his index finger, gently rubbing it over her molars, then deliberately touched her Adam's apple. He found it amusing that she gagged like a baby animal, and he chuckled.
“You eat everything I give you. You don’t have to ask. You know what I mean.”
Diara nodded silently as he whispered, scraping her tongue. He pulled his hand away, which had been cleanly sucked, and thrust his tongue in as if offering a reward. Her small mouth, which had been waiting for it, accepted it with a thud, and the inside of it felt warm.
Rahikan licked and tasted every nook and cranny of Diara's mucous membranes until he was sick of them, then released her. The woman, free from his embrace, sat up, her shoulders hunched.
Her hair flowed over her round shoulders, draping her slender body like a veil. As he reflected on the sight, resembling a red rose, the conversation he had with his subordinates before entering Feldif flashed through Rahikan's mind.
"Will the King offer Princess Diara?"
"Well."
Diara Iliaf. Known as the Red Rose of Feldif, the youngest daughter of the King, was dearly cherished by the King. Her beauty, unparalleled by human standards, was already renowned throughout the land.
"They say few people have actually seen her. She is praised as the flower of flowers spreads far and wide, so I'm curious to see what she looks like."
"What are you going to do with something that isn't even yours?"
Rahikan felt a little bored as he responded indifferently to his subordinate's curious reaction.
Even if she was rumored to be beautiful, it was obvious she was no different from any other woman. Even the empire of Cardion had its fair share of exceptional beauties, and as Emperor, he could summon them to his bedroom with a simple nod whenever he pleased.
"Rumors, as always, are exaggerated and far-fetched. Don't you know that even after experiencing it firsthand?"
The subordinate scratched the back of his head awkwardly at the words that made him click his tongue.
"Indeed... After hearing Your Majesty's words, I see. Rumors are not to be trusted."
It was just after the successful conclusion of the first conquest. The defeated King, as a sign of complete submission, sent his daughter to serve him at night.
The Princess, who entered with a calm expression, served him with a familiarity, as if she had experienced this situation countless times before. He had no particular reason to refuse, but Rahikan could not have known then that that night would be the beginning of everything.
The Emperor of Cardion spared his kingdom from destruction in exchange for the Princess.
What began in the cramped bedroom traveled beyond the walls, blinded by eyes and ears. The horse, carried by the sandstorm, gained weight day by day, growing larger by feeding on anxiety and fear.
It took less than two weeks for the belief that there was only one way to appease the murderous Emperor to become a fait accompli. On their tongues, he became a paraphiliac, a serpent-like voracious, a tyrant who treated women like dogs and wielded a sword, and finally, a deranged nymphomaniac bent on taking every Princess on the continent as a concubine.
And now, when the banners of Cardion fluttered beyond the golden sands, the Kings, fearful of defeat, would thrust the most beautiful of their daughters into his chamber.
Although it was unexpected and absurd, it wasn't a bad thing from Rahikan's perspective.
In a desert battle centered around cavalry, the quicker and lighter the battle, the better. If an easy surrender could be secured, the more vicious and bizarre the rumors about it became.
Moreover, he enjoyed affairs with women as much as battle, so it was truly killing two birds with one stone. It goes without saying that one night with the Princesses of defeated nations provided him with the right amount of entertainment and comfort during the long war.
However, King of Feldif was the first King to go beyond a declaration of surrender and completely give up the fight, demanding that his territory be made a vassal state.
The soldiers following Rahikan burst into laughter at the sight of him opening the gates wide as if he had been waiting and scattering flowers of welcome.
"This is so well-planned, I'd believe it even if you invited me."
"Even if I return to my home country, I don't think I'll be able to receive this level of hospitality."
He entered the palace, trampling on flowers and listening to the sly jokes. The old King, who had rushed out barefoot, bowed at his feet as if he were greeting his former master. However, there was something else that made Rahikan laugh even more than the King's servile, almost servile, abject cowardice.
"Will you offer the Princess as a tribute?"
These were the words that came from the King's mouth, who had requested a private meeting before the banquet. At the question, the King's forehead pressed even closer to the floor.
"If you so permit, Your Majesty."
“I heard you love your daughters, especially your youngest daughter.”
The King could not have been unaware of Rahikan's way of treating women. True or not, the exaggerated rumors about him could not have escaped the ears of this old fox.
"That's why I only wish to offer it to the Emperor. Isn't it the natural duty and obligation of a loyal subject to offer the most precious and valuable thing one possesses to his lord?"
Being born as a woman and being able to serve His Majesty the Emperor, the supreme ruler of the world, would be an honor beyond measure. My daughter, too, hopes to serve His Majesty with the same heart.
The appeal, which began with a desperate voice, ended with these words.
"It's also virtual."
The audacity to discuss loyalty to the leader of an enemy nation, calling him "lord" or "loyal subject," was astonishing. A cold mockery crossed Rahikan's face as he looked down at the wooden coffin resting on his graying crown. It quickly dissolved.
Even the most pathetic incompetence felt refreshing at this level. The three-inch tongue, flickering as if oiled, strangely piqued his interest. He wondered how far this old fox and his dissolute daughter would go in a fit of rhythm.
"I accept that feeling."
"Your Majesty!" the King exclaimed, like a loyal subject receiving praise for his achievements. As he turned, the old King's voice, bowing repeatedly, echoed incessantly behind him.
For this reason, Rahikan harbored his own expectations when the impudent Princess, who longed to serve him with the same loyalty as her father, entered his bedroom. He hoped she would lie flat like a dog and lick his feet.
The moment the veil was lifted, his eyes flashed with a dazzling gleam of green. The moment he met them, a shock as strong as lightning left him paralyzed.
When their eyes met, the woman's lips trembled slightly. Her lips, contrasting with her crystal-clear, deep-set eyes, were so red and luscious that it seemed believable that what was inside them wasn't tongue, but honey.
They say it's just a pitiful flower, but isn't this a demon that devours men?
But even he hesitated for a moment, and in the ensuing bed, the woman was utterly inexperienced and clumsy. She possessed neither the drive or ambition to seduce a man with her beauty, nor the skill to flirt with a sly smile. It was a feeling of emptiness.
What are you going to do with this offering?
The woman's hands, knowing or not, gently brushed her tangled hair to one side. She seemed to be braiding it, untangling it, and dividing it into three sections.
Rahikan, who had been watching Diara's actions with a languid feeling, naturally reached out. The plump, swaying breasts between her soft, flowing hair were a sight to behold. As he stroked her soft breasts and teased her nipples, he could clearly see the fluffy hair on her earlobes turning a deep red.
“What lewd thoughts are you having that make your face turn red? Isn’t that enough?”
“No, Your Majesty. That’s not it.”
She shook her head in horror, as if to say absolutely not. He chuckled inwardly, watching her frozen hands start to move again. It was agonizing to see her tremble and blush at even the smallest joke.
Je couldn't figure out what the scheming King was planning on offering such a reckless thing as a tribute, but it didn't matter. After all, the woman was his now.
As the saying goes, "seeing is believing." He didn't particularly want it, but once he received it, he was so captivated by it that he lost all desire to return it. Even if he could tease it until he was sick of it and then shove it in a corner, this beautiful white trophy would never escape his grasp.
After a long, dreamless sleep, Rahikan woke up feeling light and refreshed. Feeling satisfied, Rahikan rose from his seat. The early morning sunlight poured down on his body, stretching out its arms like a cat waking from a nap. Diara watched him striding naked, seemingly without shame, with fearful eyes.
With his broad shoulders and muscular body, he looked more like a soldier on the battlefield than an Emperor. Unlike his father, who always remained within the castle walls with a pale face, he possessed the body of a strong, wild man, unafraid of being exposed to the sun. Had she not known his true nature, Diara might have found his body beautiful, but her gaze was soon captivated.
Are all Cardion men like this? Their muscular skin glowed golden, and they seemed to be made of a completely different material, from their skin color to their bone structure, than the comparatively small and slender Feldif men.
The broad back and waist that made up his massive body were covered in scars that seemed to have been torn and stitched up by swords and spears, but the most noticeable of them was a long burn scar that stretched from his right shoulder to his thigh.
The mark, a deep gray color, seemed to be very old, as if burnt skin had been pressed into place, and looked more like a tiger's stripes than a scar.
Maybe he was hit by a fire arrow during the war?
If it left such a large scar, it must have been a very serious injury. Diara had seen countless soldiers who had suffered burns on the battlefield only to die from the heat and inflammation after barely surviving. It's often said that burns are the worst kind of pain a human can endure.
But even the fearsome fire seemed insufficient to kill this man. If even the blazing flames couldn't harm him, who in this world could defeat him and save themselves?
Diara shook her head, shaking off the melancholy that was slowly creeping up on her. It was all over. Now, whether alive or dead, she belonged entirely to him, so there was no point in wishing for his death.
Rahikan, walking with his long legs swaying, picked up a carelessly scattered outer garment and draped it over his shoulders. Diara, who had followed him, was about to pick up her own clothes, which were also rolling on the floor.
"Your Majesty."
“Come in.”
"Oh no!"
The moment she exclaimed, "Oh no," the door burst open. Diara leaped back into bed like a cat on fire. She frantically pulled the thin sheets over her naked body, covering it.
“Great Desert Sun, Your Majesty the Emperor.”
The one kneeling and offering a salute was a soldier of Cardion, clad in black armor. His gaze was fixed solely on his Emperor, as if he didn't even see Diara. Still, her startled heart struggled to calm.
Even though she was practically a prisoner, this was Feldif's palace. And it was the bridal chamber where the Princess, who had just had her first night with the Emperor, lay. It was not an area where armed soldiers could enter.
Even if you ask me to come in after I send you out, that would be fine.
But seeing Rahikan glance at her only briefly despite her earnest gaze, Diara realized she would soon have to get used to this kind of treatment. Trembling naked in a room filled with the traces of lovemaking, her face flushed with shame even though she was covered.
“We have completed preparations for the advance.”
"Yes."
“What will you do with the tribute? The cart has been prepared.”
Outside the window, fifteen carts pulled by white camels and fifteen by gray donkeys. Atop them, a mountain of goods awaited: eclectic silks, porcelain, red grape wine, seven-embroidered carpets, and five-leafed gold coins. Looking out the window, Rahikan gave his order without a hint of hesitation.
“Just make sure you pack enough alcohol for the soldiers. Leave the rest behind.”
Even if it was a tribute offered by the King of a small country, from his perspective, it was nothing more than trash. In any case, the initial goal of conquering Feldif had been achieved.
A strong liquor made from high-quality fruit. Furthermore, with the border connecting the two deserts now complete, trivial tributes would only be a burden on the long journey.
Rahikan, wearing a sewn-in outer garment, took a sip of wine from the table.
“Leave one empty carriage behind.”
“Yes, Your Majesty. I will obey your command.”
He indifferently watched the man walk away, then turned his gaze towards the bed with the curtain drawn.
The light streaming in through the wide window poured dazzlingly onto the woman. He gazed into her turquoise eyes and downed the remaining alcohol in his glass. The woman trapped in the purple glass rippled, flowing into his mouth.
This was all he could take from here.
After Cardion's troops withdrew and even Rahikan left, Diara remained alone in her bedroom. A commotion was heard from the hallway, and soon the King of Feldif burst into the bedroom, accompanied by three maids.
“Father...?”
Diara, who was about to return to her room at the King's sudden visit, froze like a statue. Her father only visited her like this when he had done something wrong.
Diara looked around with bewilderment at the women who had entered with the King. The maids, draped in red from head to toe, exuded an eerie aura, almost human and yet ghostly. They were the red-veiled maids who served the King from the closest quarters, guarding the concubines and Princesses and governing all the palace maids.
The King, standing among them in his royal attire, had a pale complexion, as if he hadn't slept well the night before. He sat on a chair with a weary face and gestured toward his maids.
“Check.”
Two maids immediately approached Diara's back and grabbed one of her arms.
“Oh, wait, wait a minute... Whoa!”
The maids, acting on the King's orders, pretended not to hear the Princess's panicked screams. Her futile protests were easily suppressed, and her hands were tightly bound. The remaining maid took out what appeared to be a bird's feather from a lily box. The feather, about the size of a palm, was flawlessly white.
What on earth was she planning on doing with that? Unlike Diara, who was bound half-naked, the maid seated between her legs was covered by a bright red veil, her face obscured from view. It was a dead ringer for the harsh bathing she'd been given last night. Diara's lips turned blue.
“Father, why, why are you doing this?”
"I need to know if you've served the Emperor properly. That's all, so just be quiet."
The King responded annoyedly to the Princess's question.
“Sometimes there are fox cubs who try to fool others by cutting off their little fingers.”
He looked down coldly at the red marks that had fallen on the bedding where they had just spent their first night. A soft, white feather had slipped between the Princess's legs. While Diara tightly closed her eyes, it slid out, slid inside, and entered the maid's mouth.
“You were embraced."
The sensation of lukewarm semen, the traces of blood mixed with it, and even the sour, pungent smell. Clear evidence of a male and female having sex was laid before the King's feet.
"Ha...!"
During the brief moment of the ceremony, the King, who had been anxiously rubbing his temples, let out a joyful exclamation. His brisk strides passed the heads of the prostrate maids and headed toward the trembling Princess.
“You were so stubborn and didn’t eat or drink at the entire banquet, making me worry... You did well.”
“...Ugh.”
The King grabbed Diara's chin and turned her to face him. Her small jaw, pale with humiliation and fear, clacked in his hand. He gazed with greedy eyes at the nape of his daughter's neck, where blue bruises, like leaf veins, had formed.
“What did he say to you when he saw you? Did he touch your body and face with pleasure? How many times did he kiss your breasts and vagina? On your lips?”
“I don’t know, Father. I don’t know about that...”
“Answer me!”
The King grasped the sobbing Princess's shoulder with a violent grip. Veins bulged on the back of his hand, which was as thin as a tree branch. A thin moan escaped Diara's lips.
“Diara Illaf.”
A lowered voice growled menacingly.
“What did I say?”
A putrid stench emanated from the lukewarm breath he exhaled. Diara, who had been closing her eyes, slowly raised her gaze. Her chest tightened as she met his brown eyes, stained with greed.
“This is... a, an opportunity...”
"What?"
“I said that Femdif fate was in your hands.”
“Right, right. That’s right.”
At the satisfactory answer, the King finally smiled, revealing his yellow teeth. His bright smile was filled with joy.
"My sparkling jewel. My beautiful rose. You know how much effort your father put into raising you so beautifully. I knew you would one day fulfill your duty as a child."
The King looked down at the naked, fragile object in his hand. When this round thing was smaller, the King would gaze at it like this every day, long and lingering.
A young daughter born around the time of her first grandchild. The King was deeply pleased with his youngest daughter, who was particularly beautiful among his own children, and treated her like a precious jewel. Even her food, clothing, and use were subject to surveillance and control, and the maids serving Diara were replaced after no more than three months.
Fearing that subversive ideas might be instilled in her, she was kept far away from books, and all contact with nobles and other royals was cut off. She was forced to bathe three times a day in rosewater, and painting, embroidery, and walking were forbidden to prevent her hands and feet from becoming rough.
A quiet, pure, and beautiful daughter.
As the daughter, growing up in the pristine white palace, became more and more captivating, word about Diara spread like wildfire. Soon, wealthy individuals from all over the world began to seek the King, boasting vast fortunes.
Some offered dazzling treasures, others offered mystical creatures be had never heard of, and still others offered their fertile lands. The cunning King seized his daughter like bait, shaking her gently until his desired prey appeared.
It was when Diara was just twelve years old that his net finally caught a satisfying catch.
The man riding the golden camel was the King of a nation renowned as the wealthiest of the seven western kingdoms. With over forty children and grandchildren under his command, the aged King fell in love at first sight with Diara, who was his great-granddaughter.
All commerce in the West will now revolve around Feldif. Of the three gold mines in the center, one will be his, one will be theirs, and the other will belong to Diara's son.
A gentle voice flowed from the mouth of a man in his seventies. His clouded eyes scanned her still-unswelled chest and buttocks, revealing a blatant look.
"He is the one who will become your husband. Come and greet him."
At the end of the crawling voice, her head dropped sharply. Rahikan, looking down at her clenched fist, reached out.
“Stay still. I need to check to see if you’re hurt.”
He lightly grabbed the thing that was trying to run away.
The hand that had quietly entered his grasp felt as if it would be crushed with the slightest pressure. It wasn't just the hand, but the woman's entire body. Her soft cheeks, her silky hair, her overflowing breasts, her slender waist. Even the slightest touch left the marks he had left on her skin, which was so tender it could be bruised.
“There’s a bruise all the way down to your wrist. Did you get it yesterday?”
“No, I... I, I’m fine...”
As Diara fiddled with her sweaty hands, the woman shifted her gaze from side to side, seeming to be in utter discomfort. She pursed her lips, blinked, and when he didn't let go, she finally began whining like a puppy in need.
She must really hate being touched. Rahikan chuckled, feeling inexplicably twisted. Until dawn, she'd been clinging to him, calling him "Your Majesty, Your Majesty." She'd been shaking her butt and wagging her tail.
“This is ridiculous.”
The woman's face turned pale, as if frightened by the muttering.
“Yes, I was wrong...”
"Yeah, you did something wrong, so you should apologize. But that doesn't seem like the attitude of someone who's sorry."
Diara's shoulders jerked at the sound of the whip he was holding being dropped. Her eyes, daunted, stared up at him in bewilderment. Her cowering expression resembled that of a scolded child. Her small face, framed by wide eyes, seemed quite small.
“I don’t think you're stupid. Is it a habit of you to pretend not to know?”
"... Yes?"
“I must have told you this many times.”
“Wh, what?”
"That's not how you ask for my forgiveness. Surely you wouldn't say you don't remember what I told you last night already."
As she looked up at Rahikan, her green eyes were filled with a mixture of doubt, confusion, and bewilderment.
Her bitten lower lip curled inward and then popped out. Soon, he looked down at her flushed, red eyes and reached out to touch them. His hand brushed beneath her trembling eyes and then slid down to her chin.
“No, not at night, but this morning?”
The man's voice, lowered, was gentle. Following the pounding of her heart beneath her chin, memories of the previous night flashed before Diara's eyes.
This morning. To be exact, it was around dawn.
"I told you I'd get in trouble if you fainted on your own."
Despite Rahikan's orders, the lovemaking that lasted until dawn proved utterly impossible for Diara's physical strength. She bit him and fell into a deep, almost deathly sleep. Several times, she woke up with a jerk, the pain of a bite to the back of her neck.
"It seems like you're finding intercourse with me quite boring."
Finally, Rahikan turned Diara over and asked, "Boring?" "I'm bored? Swinging someone until they're unconscious and then watching them collapse? I'm bored." Lacking the will to protest, he simply let out a weary breath, and his lips rested on her half-closed eyes.
"You need to build up your stamina, Princess."
The breath that licked her heavy eyelids was hot, but it remained calm, without any sign of roughness. It was impossible to tell whether the narrowed eyes were angry or smiling.
I was wrong. Please forgive me. The apology, for what may have been the umpteenth time, cracked at the tip of her throat. He chuckled softly, kissing her dry lips.
"I didn't say that to ask for an apology."
“...Ugh.”
"And that's not how you ask for forgiveness."
A sharp voice filled her lungs and slowly left.
But here?
The voice that was about to blurt out was swallowed by his raised eyebrows. His quiet gaze seemed to warn her not to make him say it again.
Diara, nervous, took a slow breath. She held the air that had been rushing into her chest, and took a step toward him.
Tall and lanky, Diara's head barely touched his shoulder. Standing a step away, she lifted her head, tiptoeing, and lightly pressed her lips to his jaw. It was a light, silent kiss.
“I was wrong...”
"Again."
Before she could even ask for forgiveness, Rahikan gave an order as soon as her lips left his mouth.
“Don’t you know what it means to kiss someone?”
"Do I have to teach you from the beginning?" His downcast eyes silently glared at her. Diara, her face flushed with tears, bit her lip.
He said the order was to first make eye contact, then kiss, and then say, "I was wrong." Rahikan made it sound simple, but from Diara's perspective, it was anything but easy.
Those gleaming yellow eyes were like those of a beast, and just looking into them took her breath away. No, it wasn't just his eyes that were terrifying.
The man's shoulders, like a massive wall, surrounded her, broad and majestic. Unlike her own, his body was rough and solid, his hands, his heavy musky scent, his warmth radiating subtly across her skin—all of this combined to create an intangible weight that overwhelmed her. Just standing a little closer, she felt as if she were completely swallowed up in the shadow he cast.
The sight of him waiting without a word of urging made her heart burn. With her back clammy, Diara took another step toward him.
Her toes lifted high, and her tightly closed lips barely touched his lower lip. This time, she decided to hold on, rather than pull away, thinking it would be better. While Diara held her breath, Rahikan stood still, watching her as she acted.
“...”
What should I do now? Is it okay to take it off or not?
She was at a loss, his expressionless, impassive face. Cold sweat poured down her tense back like rain. A hand, wandering through the air, touched his shoulder, and Rahikan finally tilted his head slightly.
“Don’t just stand there, suck it.”
Their noses brushed against his crooked head. His breath, suddenly ripped out by the whisper between their lips, hit Diara's face, and she bit down hard on his lip.
His warm lips felt like the only soft part of his body. As she licked them, cautiously, Rahikan's head gradually tilted downward. Her raised feet clung to the floor, and he took a half-step back, his hunched back colliding with the carriage.
“Ugh...”
A large hand gently pulled her waist, which was trembling at the rattling sound.
“Keep going.”
The gaze that met her nose was as cloudy and gloomy as the voice.
These were the eyes of the man who had violated her several times last night. His gaze, violent and cruel, a mixture of conquest and passion, sent shivers down her spine.
Diara bit his lower lip, sucking it loudly, then lightly licked his clenched teeth. She blinked once at the narrowed eyes, then again at the slightly warped corners of them. Finally, his tongue, thrust through her parted teeth, slowly licked the mucous membrane before slipping out.
The warmth that had filled her mouth escaped. Her tongue, which had chased him with a sense of regret, was trapped in his mouth. It was chewed to the root, and a wet sound filled her throat as it slurped beneath her tongue.
Neither fast nor slow, Rahikan moved leisurely, like a predator, indulgent with a full stomach, handling its prey. She closed her eyes and swallowed the generous amount of saliva, which he was given as if suckling. Each tepid spit, wetting her esophagus, stung her navel.
“Ugh.”
Rahikan chuckled at the whimpering moan. A burst of laughter, as if unable to contain the laughter, tickled the corners of her mouth.
Only then did Diara realize she was licking his tongue absentmindedly. She was so distracted she hadn't even realized she'd wrapped her arms around his neck. Her face felt as hot as if on fire.
I'm crazy. My head must be completely messed up. Diara tried to turn around and run, but her waist was caught.
“Where are you going?”
With a quick tug, Diara was pulled into his embrace in the blink of an eye. His steely arms wrapped around her slender waist, their bodies pressed so close that their stomachs were touching.
“Huh? Suck it all you want.”
The quietly smiling eyes seemed to mock her. Diara twisted her waist and pushed him, a surge of contempt welling up in her.
“Let me go, let me go.”
“I don’t like it.”
His timid defiance was easily rebuffed. Rahikan tilted his head and buried his nose beneath Diara's ear.
"Ah...!"
Diara's voluminous hair swayed behind her flustered back. Her back arched and her toes curled involuntarily.
He sniffed at her neck like a giant dog, his nose burrowing into her throat. The sensation of the man's warm breath wafting through her nostrils was all too vivid. Goosebumps ran down her spine wherever his breath touched her nose.
“You smell very sweet. Have you taken a bath?”
“Ah, Your Majesty... Ugh, just a moment...”
"Rose?"
“Yes. It’s perfume. Well, I use it for my hair.”
“Hmm.”
No matter how much she hunched her shoulders and struggled, she couldn't escape his broad, firm embrace. Tuck, tuck—as lips traced the slender curve of my neck and pressed down, strength flowed through me to my very toes. A sight she hadn't seen when they kissed, now flooded into her trembling vision.
Armed soldiers, servants, and maids of Feldif Palace carrying luggage, and others whose identities were unclear, hurried past behind him.
The Cardion soldiers leading the horse glanced in this direction absentmindedly, then quickly turned their heads away as if it were nothing. It wasn't out of politeness, but rather an attitude that the Emperor's lust for women was perfectly natural and not surprising.
But like the Feldif who avert their gaze with a look of shock when their eyes meet, Diara could not help but be indifferent.
Even if they were physically related, high-ranking nobles or royalty would never flaunt their affection in this way. At least not in Feldif. Of course, what he was flaunting wasn't affection or anything, and it wasn't something she should be saying, having just sucked his lips.
Her head was spinning with disorganized thoughts. Everything was a mess, from start to finish.
At that moment, a hand slid under Diara's buttocks and lifted her up. Diara flinched at the sight of her body rising, clutching his head. She thought she heard laughter beneath her chest, but she no longer had the energy to care.
“Lara.”
His scent came from the breath that was dissipating as he pressed against her cheek. A manly scent, similar to wine, but a bit cheaper and heavier.
The lips that were touching the area very close to the lips, closer to the corner of the mouth than the cheek, lightly bit the lower lip.
“Don’t use anything like this again. I don’t want mine to smell different.”
“What, a different smell?”
"Yeah. This body should only smell like me. You know what I mean?"
He looked up at Diara, his lips still on her chin.
Diara realized a beat too late that the thing Rahikan was talking about was rose oil, a distraction from his many actions.
As she perched on his muscular arms, she found herself looking down at him rudely. As Diara blinked absentmindedly, his thick, black hair swayed gently between his eyebrows.
She thought he was trying to ridicule and humiliate her. But the expression on his face as she met him from up high was far from that of someone trying to bully someone.
“Yes, Your Majesty. I won’t use the perfume again.”
He rolled his eyes in satisfaction at the simple answer.
Rahikan patted Diara's cheek as if praising her, put her in the carriage, and closed the door. Only at the sound of the latch locking shut did Diara, now alone, let out a long, long breath.
“...I, I was so surprised...”
She wasn't beaten or scolded. Still, it was strange. Even after her butt hit the hard floor, her heart pounded, as if she was about to get motion sickness, and it didn't calm down.
When she placed her finger on the lip where his fangs had touched, her heart pounded like a pounding drum against it. Instead of the familiar scent of roses, the smell of his breath lingered in her nostrils, a feeling so strange she couldn't describe it.
Diara, who had been caressing her throbbing lips, crawled inside the carriage. She crouched down on the cramped, hard floor.
While waiting for the beating of the drum, which sounded like a small drum, to subside, the thin cotton cloth surrounding the window swelled like a ship's sail and slowly sank.
A horn sounded in the distance, and the stopped carriage began to rattle and move forward.
“Princess, lift your head. Stop crying.”
Every time her carefully applied makeup crumbled beneath tears, the maids with brushes stamped their feet in annoyance. They wiped the drops from her slender chin only to find her weeping again. Beads of sweat dripped from the chins of those anxiously awaiting the Princess's arrival in the tyrant's bedroom.
"You're not a child, so what should I do if you keep crying like this? You need to look pretty for your husband, who is waiting for you."
“Get out.”
The Princess's voice trembled thinly.
“Will he really make me sleep with a snake?”
“How would I know? I just assume it’s possible because other people say it is.”
The maid called Talgar snapped nervously at the Princess's question. Her eyes glazed over, and her hands tugged roughly at the string tied around her waist.
“If you behave badly like you are now, he will do that, but if you behave well, he won’t do that.”
"But..."
"Ah! I told you not to cry. You keep talking nonsense. If you continue to be so uncooperative, I'll have no choice but to speak to His Majesty."
Talga's voice was sharp as she mentioned her father. Diara's face instantly turned pale.
"Don't do that, Talgar. Yes? I won't cry. I won't cry..."
Behind the sound of swallowing tears, the maids' hands became busier.
It was the night after the four-day welcoming banquet that followed the entry of Emperor Cardion.
Feldif is a land of warm air where flowers bloom year-round. Renowned for the beauty of its flowers and women, the banquet hall was filled from floor to ceiling with fragrant flowers. Each crystal goblet held the finest wine, and the feet of the humble dancers were adorned with glittering gold coins.
Even in the most visible places, and even in the corners that no one looked at, the flowers, food, silk, and perfumes used to please the empire were all luxurious enough to easily exceed the annual budget of a small country. If someone who didn't know saw this, they might have mistakenly thought that the King of Feldif was deeply in love with the youngest Princess, who was to be sacrificed as a tribute.
However, during the banquet, Diara locked herself in her room and cried endlessly. The thought of being dragged to the tyrant's bedroom as soon as the welcome party was over made her unable to enjoy the banquet, let alone drink a sip of water.
It was the third day of her perseverance, without eating or drinking. Her once-pure, white face had become swollen, and her once-soft cheeks had visibly thinned. The enraged King finally stormed into the Princess's chambers.
"This selfish bitch!"
The King, who had burst in like lightning, hurled a plate from the table. The silver dish containing honey and grapes clattered loudly across the floor.
"I prepared this place for you, and you dare ruin it like this? You really want to die by my hand, don't you, huh?"
“Father, Father, please...”
Diara, lying face down on the floor, crawled at the King's feet. Her sobs, resting her forehead on his instep, soaked the floor.
"I'll do my best. I'll do whatever Father tells me and be good. Please, forgive me this one time. He'll kill me. Yes?"
People say that the Emperor Cardion loved snakes more than women. His love of snakes was so great that he enjoyed flirting with the venomous snakes he kept and the women he carried.
The women who have been under his spell all have their bottoms torn and crawl on all fours.
Countless people have died from uterine rupture.
They say that those who survive will wear diapers their entire lives like newborn babies.
The chattering voices of the maids lingered in his ears like a nightmare. Instead of kicking the Princess who clung to his feet, the King knelt beside her. He removed her pale hand from his toes and held her tenderly. Diara. Diara. The sound of his daughter's name being called was as sweet as honey.
"What did you say I would do if you didn't listen?"
Diara's shoulders trembled violently, anticipating the words the King would speak. There was only one punishment he could inflict on his disobedient daughter. A wrinkled hand brushed her pale cheek, and the Princess's pale green eyes were filled with a familiar fear.
"Listen."
"Please..."
"Bring in the iron coffin for the Princess."
"Father!"
The footsteps of those retreating, despite the Princess's desperate screams, were unstoppable. The call to bring in the coffin that would hold Princess Diara echoed through the hallway.
"You will never be able to get out of there until you die."
At the cold King's words, Diara grabbed his leg as if she was about to collapse.
"Father! I was wrong, I was wrong!"
"I will. I will serve him. I will serve the Emperor." Finally, the answer the King desired emerged from the Princess's lips. Diara scrambled to her feet, picking up the food that had fallen to the floor with her bare hands. The crushed flesh gurgled down her choking throat.
“Yes, it’s done.”
While Diara held back her tears, the maid, who had safely finished dressing up, breathed a sigh of relief.
Her head was adorned with intricately carved ivory and gold leaf ornaments, and her waist, as slender as a willow, was draped in a sheer, translucent bridal gown. Her long, waist-length hair flowed like a waterfall as her white, perfumed feet danced softly.
“Oh my... You are truly dazzlingly beautiful.”
A heartfelt exclamation of admiration escaped the maid's lips as she took the princess by the hand, lifted her up, and spun her around.
Between her luscious, rosy hair, her bud-like, light green eyes seemed to gaze upon a living goddess of flowers. The lovely dimples that only appeared when she smiled were gone, but even her expressionless face was mysterious, a beauty truly worthy of the nickname "Rose of Feldif."
“No one will dare to treat the Princess carelessly when they see this.”
Diara didn't respond to the comforting words of Talgar, who was feeling relieved. A veil as thin as a dragonfly's wings draped over the bride's head, which had just finished her makeup.
Now all preparations were complete. Under the watchful eye of maids pretending to escort her, Diara headed toward the awaiting Emperor.
***
Diara's fingertips trembled as she stood before the bedroom door. She wished she could just faint. She briefly considered that, but it was unacceptable. If she lost consciousness now, she'd wake up in a pitch-black coffin.
The thought of a perfect prison, where not even a scream could escape, made her breath catch in her throat. It was the most terrifying hell Diara could imagine, and no other place could be more terrifying.
After making up her mind, the hesitation didn't last long. She didn't know what trouble she would face if she made the impatient Emperor wait any longer. Diara nodded to the attendant guarding the door.
Dim light seeped through the heavily opened door. She stepped onto the soft carpet and knelt on the floor.
Diaea bowed toward the bed where the Emperor would be sitting. Her heart pounded furiously, following the veil that reached down to her toes and the rippling of her vision.
“Great Sun of the Desert. I greet you, Your Majesty, the Emperor.”
Even she found the awkward greeting she learned before entering his bedroom awkward. Whether it was because of that or some other reason, she didn't receive a reply.
In the still air, only the sound of her own heartbeat could be heard loudly in her ears. Fortunately, the snake's hissing was silent, but as she lay her forehead on the floor, she became increasingly anxious.
"What should I do next?" Diara tried to remember what the maid had told her. For this day, she had memorized the forty-nine rules of etiquette, her tongue tingling.
"When meeting His Majesty the Emperor, your knees should touch the ground first, then your elbows, then your hands, and then your forehead."
Bow first, then greet. Never raise your head until you are told to do so, and after bowing, no matter what happens, never call out to him first...
As she was thinking about this, she heard a low voice from the side of the bed.
“Come here.”
Diara couldn't raise her head without being told to. She crawled closer on her knees, and he called out to her again.
Closer, closer. Diara finally crawled to the very foot of the raised bed, taking a moment to catch her breath. Suddenly, a hand reached out and snatched the veil away.
“Ugh...!”
She couldn't even groan at the pain of her hair being ripped out. A finger slid under her chin, causing Diaea to lift her head. Her heart plummeted as she met his beastly, bright yellow eyes.
Azad Rahikan, or the Great Desert Sun.
The Emperor of the vast Cardion Empire, encompassing two deserts and three major rivers, was a man known to his allies as a glory and to his enemies as a living nightmare. Even those who had never seen him before were reminded of his nickname.
The long, rosy lips and prominent nose are almost arrogant, and the eyes, contrasting fiercely with the upturned eyebrows, are languid yet elegant. Was this the face of the sun god she once saw in a temple mural?
Diara was captivated by the man's beauty and found herself staring intently at him. He briefly locked eyes with her, then slowly raised one eyebrow.
“I said I would wait until dawn.”
“Ugh...”
“You’re not a horny parrot, so why are you hanging all this stuff around? How can I even look at your face?”
The hand that grasped her chin and jerked her head as if examining her condition was incredibly rough. The ivory and gold decorations that encased her small head made a clinking sound with each turn.
“Ugh, ah, Your Majesty.”
“Don’t just call, you have to speak.”
"Come here," was the next order. Diara bit her lip.
"When concluding a speech, do not say, 'Do as you always do,' but say, 'I will certainly do it,' or 'I will do it.' When His Majesty the Emperor asks you a question, do not dare to ask him again or ask him to speak twice."
“If the decorations bother you, I, I will take them off. So please give me a little time...”
According to Feldif tradition, the bride's headdress was to be personally removed by the husband-to-be. A woman letting down her hair herself before their first night was considered a practice reserved for prostitutes, but now was not the time to discuss such matters.
Every time Diara shook her head, a sharp ivory spike stabbed the back of her neck mercilessly. It hurt so much that tears welled up in her eyes.
At this rate, she couldn't lie flat or lean to her side. If she were forced to lie down, she would get cut and stabbed by the sharp comb, leaving her covered in blood. Diara pleaded, "Please, let me let go of my hair first," and Rahikan released her with a flick of her chin.
“Hurry up. I’ve been waiting for a while already.”
Diara, who had obtained the Emperor's permission, hurriedly raised her hand and began to take off her headdress.
While the Emperor was unraveling the intricately tangled chains of ornamentation, his hand reached down and flicked open the thin bridal gown, revealing the inside. As the lace-fastened front sash unraveled, her smooth, white breasts, as if polished from white porcelain, were revealed.
A hand brushed past her sunken belly and slender waist, seemingly graspable by a handful, and grabbed her chest. She shuddered for a moment at the sudden grip. He slapped her elbow away, which flinched involuntarily.
“Stop being a fool and let your hair down.”
With no other choice, both arms rose again. Her soft, white breasts were crushed between the man's fingers.
He squeezed it tightly enough to catch her nipple, then wiggled it up and down, making a rippling sound. He then placed her nipple between his fingers and rubbed it. Diara, at a loss, simply shrugged, her shoulders twitching as he played with her nonchalantly, as if he were playing with a toy.
“Ugh...”
He laughed in disbelief at the thin groan.
“Look at this. You made a man wait, and now you’re feeling it all alone?”
“Ahhh!”
A slap! A slap landed on her nipple. A flash of light flashed before her eyes, causing Diara to jump from her seat.
“Ah, ahh... ahhh...”
“Where are you going?”
As he grabbed her hair and pulled her as she tried to run away, Doarq, who was now on all fours, was dragged between his legs, panting.
“You’re obscenely shaking your breasts. It looks like you’re deliberately trying to get me to touch you more.”
“Oh, no, uh, no...”
Even if she gave up on the gold tassel on her forehead and tried to remove the sharp ivory pendant, it wasn't as easy as she thought.
Above all, standing in front of a man she never met before, with both hands raised and her chest exposed as if she were being punished, she felt like she was going crazy with shame. Jer fingers kept losing strength, and cold sweat poured down her back like rain.
“Well, the hair decoration is complicated, so I can’t see it well...”
"I never asked to be touched," she pleaded, tears welling up in her eyes as she groaned. He reached out with a click of his tongue.
“Why did you bring something like this?”
“Ahh.”
Something deeply embedded in her head was suddenly ripped out. The ivory thorn, which had remained unsnapped for a long time, flew to the floor with a shattered sound. Her red hair flowed down, covering the jer pale face like a veil.
"It's okay?"
Diara's already small face was half-hidden, leaving only herlarge, doe-like eyes. He grabbed her chin and pulled her face between his legs.
“Yes, now that you’ve let your hair down, it’s time to get to work.”
"Ah..."
“You came here to eat this, right?”
The bulging hem of his trousers pricked her lips. Beneath the thin fabric, the man's erect penis was already hot.
As she was putting her mouth on the thick, warm cloth, he opened his eyes dimly and smiled.
“Suck it.”
It had come. Her hands, pulling down his pants, trembled with fear.
A forearm-sized pillar of flesh jutted out from the loosened fabric. In contrast to his elegant face, the crimson pillar was a hideous sight, its blue veins entangled like vines.
A thick, musky scent wafted from the squirting, unidentifiable liquid. The sight of the man's thing, squelching and tapping her face like a living, breathing creature, was so terrifying and repulsive that she felt like she was going to die.
As Diara brought her lips to the tip of the throbbing spear, the first thing she felt was the soft, hot sensation of raw flesh. Then, a bitter, fishy taste permeated her senses.
Just swallowing the glans made jer cheeks swell like a candy. As she bit down on the thing that filled her mouth to the brim, her eyes widened slightly as she looked up. The hand gripping her hair tightened.
“Why are you looking at me like that? You’re so pretty.”
“Whoohoo.”
“Let go. Open your throat so my dick can go in.”
He pushed away her hand, gripping the pillar and pressing it against the back of her head. The thing in jer mouth slowly advanced inside. The heavy member pressed against her tongue and prodded her throat. The moment her Adam's apple was pressed, her stomach churned.
“Whew! Cough!”
A wet cough poured out. The cock she had barely managed to swallow halfway fell out, and the glans she had been biting hit her hard in the eye.
“I didn’t tell you to spit it out.”
“Ah, ah, yes, just a moment...”
The nausea wouldn't stop, as if someone had forced a fist down her throat. Her vision went white, then black again. Regardless, her head lifted as her hair was held tightly, and his cock rubbed against her panting lips again.
“Get your hands off me. Do you want me to say it twice?”
There was annoyance in his sigh-like voice. He could sense that her clumsy bedside manner was wearing thin his patience.
“You must never speak to the Emperor twice..."
The maid's voice echoed through her heated mind. Diara's sweet lips sought his and bit him. As soon as she opened her mouth, a sharp, weapon-like shaft of flesh plunged into her esophagus.
“Ouch! Ugh, ugh!”
“Put your tongue down, open your jaw. Your teeth will touch.”
At the lowered voice, she desperately opened her jaw. While she tried to keep her lips shut and somehow keep her teeth from brushing against his, Rahikan grabbed her head and began to ram it into a hole.
Tsk tsk, squeak, squeak. A thick pillar forcibly opened her throat, forcing it in and then slowly exiting. Saliva, unable to be swallowed, hung like glue from her jaw, which had been stretched to its limit, and tears and snot poured out like streams. As her narrowed esophagus gripped the pillar, he let out a languid sigh, seemingly in good spirits.
The testicles that dangled and hit her chin every time he slammed his butt, and the pubic hair that poked her nose were all horrible, but the biggest hardship was not being able to breathe.
Foamy fluid flowed from Diara's mouth, following her rapid exhalations. His lush pubic hair brushed against her, jer hands groping his stomach, his wrists, his thighs, wandering before finally grasping the blanket.
Her breathing was so poor that her fingertips and toes felt numb. Just when I thought she might die, his grip on the back of her head tightened. He pulled the thick glans out until it latched onto her front teeth, then pushed it all the way back in, all the way to the root.
“Ouch!”
"Ha..."
With a growling slurp, hot semen poured straight down the esophagus from the tip of the writhing spurt.
“Ugh! Ugh, ugh... Ugh...!”
“Swallow it all. Don’t waste a drop. If you spill even a single drop, you’ll be in trouble.”
Diara was terrified by his words and, clutching her chin, clung to his lower abdomen.
The cum that poured in like spurts poured out like urine. She drank in the endless stream, savoring the afterglow of his ejaculation, slowly rubbing his now-slick glans against her mouth.
He twisted his waist, smearing semen all over her mucous membranes and rubbing her molars as if brushing her teeth. The woman's moans were mixed with the man's occasional slurping.
Finally, with a loud bang, the inside of her mouth was completely swept away, and she felt like it had been burned.
“Keuheup, uhk... Heuk, heuk...”
A mixture of tears, snot, saliva, and ejaculate soaked through her face, chest, and even the floor. The makeup she's painstakingly applied to make herself look even slightly more attractive had already disintegrated. When Diara wiped her face with the back of her hand, a sticky, starch-like white powder came off.
While she wiped her chin, Rahikan removed his half-unbuttoned robe. In the dim light, his shoulders, revealed to be more like massive boulders than shoulders, looked more like shoulders.
The muscles tightly clung to his limbs, stretched out like a stallion, and squirmed like snakes with every movement. Diara shuddered, overwhelmed by the sight.
This man could probably break her slender neck with one hand.
If he wanted, he could take her life as easily as exterminating a bug, without even bothering to lift a knife. No, not just her, but everyone would become insignificant before him.
The thought of his bloodied soldiers returning from the War completely melted away whatever fighting spirit she had left. Even her fearsome father, or even Feldif's elite troops, couldn't stand a chance against this man.
The one she was now facing, naked, was such a being. As Diara's fear surpassed its limits, her heart began to calm.
Rahikan took off his shirt and threw it carelessly onto the bed. He lay down, half leaning back, and patted the bed next to him.
“Come here.”
Diara wiped away her tears, crawled onto the bed, and knelt beside him.
The cock, which had just ejaculated beneath the thick, bushy pubic hair, was still erect. She couldn't take her eyes off the throbbing shaft that had reached her navel.
When their eyes met, he chuckled. He lay there, his head propped up in one hand, his eyes narrowed, his smiling face making her gasp.
“What’s this on a grown Princess’ face? Spit, tears, cum.”
“Oh, I’m sorry.”
“If you’re sorry, wipe it. You spilled it while eating, and now I’m dirty too.”
Her gaze dropped as he gestured downwards.
Even after ejaculating into her mouth until her stomach was bloated, the hole still leaking semen was twitching and gasping for breath. "Wipe it," he said, probably meaning "lick it with your mouth."
Hesitantly, her head tilted upwards, and she reached between his crotch. He tucked the hair that was cascading down her face behind her ear.
“Don’t just suck the pole, lick it all the way down.”
Eiara flicked the pillar, put the frothy, clotted pubic hair into her mouth, and sucked it, making a slurping sound. As her small tongue flicked busily between her lips, he sighed in satisfaction.
The man's hand, which had been rubbing her hot, feverish earlobe, moved down her back.
Diara shuddered as he grabbed her soft buttocks. "Ah," the lips that had been biting his glans twitched. Amused by the reaction, he slid his finger into the crack of her plump buttocks. Parting the thick, palpable flesh, he inserted a single fingertip, and the dry flesh clung to her.
“Oh, it’s not wet at all.”
Rahikan clicked his tongue as if he were displeased.
"It's impolite to come to receive your master in this state. Is this how Feldif educates a Princess?"
“Ah, ahh....”
Even after ejaculating into her mouth until her stomach was bloated, the hole still leaking semen was twitching and gasping for breath. "Wipe it," he said, probably meaning "lick it with your mouth."
Hesitantly, her head tilted upwards, and she reached between his crotch. He tucked the hair that was cascading down her face behind her ear.
“Don’t just suck the pole, lick it all the way down.”
Eiara flicked the pillar, put the frothy, clotted pubic hair into her mouth, and sucked it, making a slurping sound. As her small tongue flicked busily between her lips, he sighed in satisfaction.
The man's hand, which had been rubbing her hot, feverish earlobe, moved down her back.
Diara shuddered as he grabbed her soft buttocks. "Ah," the lips that had been biting his glans twitched. Amused by the reaction, he slid his finger into the crack of her plump buttocks. Parting the thick, palpable flesh, he inserted a single fingertip, and the dry flesh clung to her.
“Oh, it’s not wet at all.”
Rahikan clicked his tongue as if he were displeased.
"It's impolite to come to receive your master in this state. Is this how Feldif educates a Princess?"
“Ah, ahh....”
As he gently scratched her clitoris, which was sticking up, she gasped and rubbed her thighs.
Unable to do anything, she pulled her trembling knees completely toward him. He lowered his head and turned her waist, so she was lying flat on her stomach, her butt pressed against his.
In that state, the front of the dress was undone, and the bride's clothes were completely removed. A short sigh escaped his lips as the woman's naked body was revealed in the dim candlelight.
"Ha."
The spine that cut across her slender back was as deep as a valley. Her small buttocks, perfectly proportioned, shone milky white, and between them, a rosy, ripe vagina, as red as a flower, blossomed. Her plump, plump breasts, as plump as her voluptuous thighs, seemed the most voluptuous part of a woman's body.
He rubbed around the throbbing hole, then inserted one finger. The sudden insertion caused her vaginal opening to tighten in surprise.
“Ah, ahhh...”
Thick fingers spread open her vagina and delved deep inside. As if exploring unknown territory, they groped and rubbed her vagina, leaving her momentarily flustered. But soon, a pain as if her lower body were about to fall out followed.
Following the squelching sensation below, Diara felt a hole she hadn't even known existed opening. The strange, foreign sensation, a sensation she's never felt before, sent chills down her tight, swollen bottom. A groan escaped her clenched lips, and sweat broke out on her palms, her back, and even the nape of her neck.
He pushed another finger in while she held onto the bedding and resisted his merciless touch.
“Haaaaaah.”
“This is a bit too narrow.”
He muttered, his fingers spreading apart like scissors, having forced them all the way to the root. Squelch, squelch— Diara's mouth snapped shut as soon as it opened, jer vagina biting his fingers as if it were chewing them.
If he kept thrusting like this, it would tear before he could enjoy it. As he increased the speed and thrust a little more, Diara made a groaning sound and shook her butt.
“Ah, ah, it hurts...”
“It hurts.”
"What did you do to deserve this?" he snickered.
"If you're making a death noise after just two fingers, I wonder how you've ever taken a dick. Those Feldif guys must have pretty small dicks."
He thrust deep inside her, making a squelching sound, then shook her violently from side to side. As he thrust in rhythm with her heaving hips, her gasping breaths grew increasingly ragged.
As he rubbed her throbbing anus with his thumb, she writhed wildly. Burying her face in the blanket, she tried to crawl forward, but was suddenly dragged backward.
“Ah, no, huh, huh, something like that, ah...!”
The finger that had been probing and probing deep inside her withdrew. The pain of her bottom falling out as the filling inside her was drawn away was fleeting, but Rahikan lifted her waist. In an instant, her body flipped over. Her flat thighs clung tightly to her breasts.
Her throbbing vagina was clearly visible between her legs, her buttocks raised high. Diara flailed in terror, her calves thumping against his rock-hard shoulders.
“Don’t struggle and stay still.”
Even considering the petite physique of the Feldif compared to the Cardionians, the woman was remarkably delicate. The sight of the body, seemingly ready to fly away with a single sneeze, writhing in his hand, was a ticklish sensation.
"Clap!" The slap on my buttocks quickly calmed my struggling body. Instead, a hiccup escaped my tightly shut mouth. Rahikan watched intently as the gaping hole, barely the size of a booger, slowly contracted, following the sound of my breath.
“Is this your first time sucking a man’s cock?”
“...Yes, oh, yes.”
“Have you ever received it with your eyes, let alone with your mouth?”
“Oh, no, no, no.”
Her reckless actions had long since destroyed the hard-earned manners of speaking. It was impossible to even think of strict etiquette in this state.
"No. No, Your Majesty." The woman's voice, ashamed and embarrassed, crept in.
“Hmm.”
Rahikan's eyes narrowed at the unexpected answer. He'd asked because he thought her reaction, which made her flinch at the slightest touch, was so unusual, but he never expected it to be so accurate.
He clicked his tongue in embarrassment. A virgin? Who would force an innocent girl into serving as the Emperor's one-night stand?
“What should I do? I don’t really like virgins.”
He rubbed her clitoris with his palm, squeezing it until it squeaked. At the man's dry touch, the woman moaned, neither backing away nor actively opening her mouth to ask.
I should have known from the moment you started biting my dick and making me squeal.
He clicked his tongue again. It would be a mess to start over something that never happened, and it was also incredibly tiresome to lull this little brat into a one-night stand. Should I even call the King to hand over another woman?
“What do you want to do? Do you want to go back?”
"Yes yes?"
“Are you going to do more here?”
The calf-like eyes shook wildly at the sound of his question, which only bit off two fingers. He poked the inner wall of her belly button a couple of times, as if urging, and her soft buttocks tightened.
“Th, th, th... I... Wh, what, are you talking about?”
“I asked if you wanted me to poke you with my penis.”
The force that had been building up from her anus to her perineum seemed to be trying to close her vagina. Rahikan laughed, seeing that the force she exerted to push was actually begging for more thrusting. With every move, her body, like a frog, was becoming more and more erotic.
“Who would be rude enough to answer with their lower lip?”
He hit the hole with a loud thud.
“Haaa!”
A sharp pain spreads down below.
Diara, who had jumped lightly and landed, unconsciously placed her bottom against his palm and rubbed it frantically. Her burning skin stung, making tears well up in her eyes.
The hit vagina trembled, gushing hot liquid, and not only the cold vaginal opening but also the inner walls trembled.
“What the hell is this? Are you trying to shove it in?”
“No, ahh, no...”
“No, really. Even though I’m right, you keep squirting, and your asshole is agape.”
At the sound of a low laugh, her large eyes blinked rapidly, as if holding back tears. But even with her face weeping with displeasure, her throbbing hole couldn't hide its excitement.
As he lowered his eyes, the warm flesh he held in his hand filled his vision, dizzyingly. Beneath the soft, rosy pubic hair, like hair, the swaying flesh was a deep azalea color. The small, black hole between the bulging masses, squeezing with every breath, was so tempting that he wanted to bury his head in it.
The warm flesh clung to his palm, and his lust, which had been momentarily sluggish, boiled over as if it were a lie. Rahikan lowered his head and buried his lips in the gap between the two.
"Ah, yes, just a moment, ugh..."
The sensation of the flesh being pushed against the tip of his nose was dizzying. Diara's heart swelled greatly at the man's unexpected action. Soon, a surprisingly soft and moist tongue opened the narrow passage and thrust deep into her.
He licked the puckered folds for a long time, then thrust his tongue into the entrance. The slightly sour and sweet flesh tasted like fruit soaked in wine. He thrust deeply and turned until the curved inner walls twitched, and an endless stream of sweet wine gushed from the sloping hole.
Rahikan closed his eyes and turned his head, savoring the woman's vagina. The sound of his sucking, slurping, filled the spacious room, and soon a thick hand pressed firmly against her throbbing anus. Diara shuddered and shook her head at the foreign sensation she had never experienced before.
“Just a moment, ahhh, just a moment, uhhh...!”
“You’re really struggling. It’s annoying.”
He gently grasped the hand that was covering her face and shoulder with one hand. He had her clasp her white hands together as if in prayer, and then gave her an order.
"Clap your hands."
"Yes, yes?"
“Clap your hands.”
He licked the puckered folds for a long time, then thrust his tongue into the entrance. The slightly sour and sweet flesh tasted like fruit soaked in wine. He thrust deeply and turned until the curved inner walls twitched, and an endless stream of sweet wine gushed from the sloping hole.
Rahikan closed his eyes and turned his head, savoring the woman's vagina. The sound of his sucking, slurping, filled the spacious room, and soon a thick hand pressed firmly against her throbbing anus. Diara shuddered and shook her head at the foreign sensation she had never experienced before.
“Just a moment, ahhh, just a moment, uhhh...!”
“You’re really struggling. It’s annoying.”
He gently grasped the hand that was covering her face and shoulder with one hand. He had her clasp her white hands together as if in prayer, and then gave her an order.
"Clap your hands."
"Yes, yes?"
“Clap your hands.”
“Kka, heuk, shall we clasp hands...? Clasp hands?”
Ten fingers entangle beneath a blank expression, as if unable to understand it. Rahikan, his hands tightly intertwined like clams, rested on her navel, his tongue licking her trembling lips.
"Yeah. I'm doing that. If you keep pushing me away, I'll cut your wrists off."
Diara's face paled at the slight threat. Her slender wrists were bound in a large grip, and the downward thrusting gesture continued.
With each slow, deep thrust, Diara's curved inner self trembled, her back shaking in confusion. Before entering the room, she had thoroughly washed and loosened both her front and back holes, so it wasn't painful enough to kill her. Instead, a different kind of shame, overwhelming the pain and pleasure, burned in her stomach.
"No matter what happens, you must endure it, Princess."
"What? What do I have to endure?"
"Literally anything."
Just before she arrived to receive him, after her final training, the maids' tales lingered in her ears. They said a woman's first night was often filled with excruciating pain. A man who pounced on a woman's orifice was no different from a possessed beast, so she had to prepare herself mentally.
"A man's life is different from day to night. Even a husband who seems affectionate outside can often become incredibly violent the moment he enters the bedroom. This is especially true on the first night. So, today, just be patient and surrender to the Emperor's will."
She knew full well how ferocious a man could be when he first fell in love, so she didn't mind being scolded and scolded for not receiving him properly. Diara felt ashamed, like a spoiled brat, being spanked and having her vagina sucked, almost dying. But she knew everyone endured it, so she endured it.
But Diara never thought she would end up like this.
Even when the red-veiled maids sent by her father immersed her in a tub, opened every orifice in her body from her earholes to her mouth, down to her anus, and washed her, she thought of it as simply purifying herself as a bride, and never imagined that something like this would ever happen.
After all, isn't the anal a place for excretion, not for putting things in? Only someone who wasn't insane could possibly imagine anything entering there. Diara barely held onto sanity and began to waver precariously.
“Your Majesty, ah, ah, hmph.”
If she clenched her thighs, they would wrap around his head, and if she strained to resist, the fingers embedded behind her would tighten and bite. It was maddening. Trying to avoid Rahikan's advances, squirming here and there, without offending him, only ended up rubbing her bottom against his lips.
The constant nipping and pulling stimulated a strange spot, and the clitoris, which had been sucked for so long, swelled painfully. He, who had been concentrating on sucking the protrusion, thrust his tongue into the throbbing hole. He pressed his mouth tightly against hers, rubbing his tongue against the warm vaginal walls, and chewed the flesh of her clitoris with his front teeth.
“Ah, ah, ahh!”
Slurp, slurp. The sound of wet flesh sticking and dripping from the front and back holes alternated between hitting her ears. Her buttocks rose high and sank low, following the turning head.
Every time his high nose brushed against her tingling clitoris, a tingling sensation shot from her tailbone to the crown of her head. Her thighs, hugging his head, trembled madly. The clinging flesh grew hotter and hotter, and each time she spat out a thin stream of fluid, her curled toes scraped at his wings.
But no matter how hard she shook, turned, and fluttered, she couldn't get rid of the mouth that stuck to her like a suction cup, or the hand that dug in like a stick.
The unwanted pleasure suffocated her, almost killing her. Her anus was throbbing, and she was enjoying it. What was wrong with her mind? If she were to orgasm, she would be irreparably damaged. Diara finally burst into tears, overcome with unbearable fear.
“Your Majesty, please, anything, I’ll do anything. Ugh, every, every day you want, I’ll do it with my mouth. Ahh, there, I don’t want the back... Please.... Ugh, please.”
She begged, not even knowing what she was saying. She rubbed her palms together, searching for words that would resonate with the man. Tears welled up in her hot eyes, streaming down her cheeks. The endless welling of tears blurred her vision, making it impossible to see.
It was then. The thing stuck in her back slipped out smoothly, and her raised buttocks tumbled down. He gently pulled away from his clasped hands and wrapped both arms behind his neck.
“Say it again.”
“Ugh, ugh...”
“What are you saying with your mouth?”
His high nose brushed against her sweaty nose. His hot breath gave off a sour scent.
“I, I’ll suck your dick with my mouth... slurp, whenever you want.”
"Yeah. I'm doing that. If you keep pushing me away, I'll cut your wrists off."
Diara's face paled at the slight threat. Her slender wrists were bound in a large grip, and the downward thrusting gesture continued.
With each slow, deep thrust, Diara's curved inner self trembled, her back shaking in confusion. Before entering the room, she had thoroughly washed and loosened both her front and back holes, so it wasn't painful enough to kill her. Instead, a different kind of shame, overwhelming the pain and pleasure, burned in her stomach.
"No matter what happens, you must endure it, Princess."
"What? What do I have to endure?"
"Literally anything."
Just before she arrived to receive him, after her final training, the maids' tales lingered in her ears. They said a woman's first night was often filled with excruciating pain. A man who pounced on a woman's orifice was no different from a possessed beast, so she had to prepare herself mentally.
"A man's life is different from day to night. Even a husband who seems affectionate outside can often become incredibly violent the moment he enters the bedroom. This is especially true on the first night. So, today, just be patient and surrender to the Emperor's will."
She knew full well how ferocious a man could be when he first fell in love, so she didn't mind being scolded and scolded for not receiving him properly. Diara felt ashamed, like a spoiled brat, being spanked and having her vagina sucked, almost dying. But she knew everyone endured it, so she endured it.
But Diara never thought she would end up like this.
Even when the red-veiled maids sent by her father immersed her in a tub, opened every orifice in her body from her earholes to her mouth, down to her anus, and washed her, she thought of it as simply purifying herself as a bride, and never imagined that something like this would ever happen.
After all, isn't the anal a place for excretion, not for putting things in? Only someone who wasn't insane could possibly imagine anything entering there. Diara barely held onto sanity and began to waver precariously.
“Your Majesty, ah, ah, hmph.”
If she clenched her thighs, they would wrap around his head, and if she strained to resist, the fingers embedded behind her would tighten and bite. It was maddening. Trying to avoid Rahikan's advances, squirming here and there, without offending him, only ended up rubbing her bottom against his lips.
The constant nipping and pulling stimulated a strange spot, and the clitoris, which had been sucked for so long, swelled painfully. He, who had been concentrating on sucking the protrusion, thrust his tongue into the throbbing hole. He pressed his mouth tightly against hers, rubbing his tongue against the warm vaginal walls, and chewed the flesh of her clitoris with his front teeth.
“Ah, ah, ahh!”
Slurp, slurp. The sound of wet flesh sticking and dripping from the front and back holes alternated between hitting her ears. Her buttocks rose high and sank low, following the turning head.
Every time his high nose brushed against her tingling clitoris, a tingling sensation shot from her tailbone to the crown of her head. Her thighs, hugging his head, trembled madly. The clinging flesh grew hotter and hotter, and each time she spat out a thin stream of fluid, her curled toes scraped at his wings.
But no matter how hard she shook, turned, and fluttered, she couldn't get rid of the mouth that stuck to her like a suction cup, or the hand that dug in like a stick.
The unwanted pleasure suffocated her, almost killing her. Her anus was throbbing, and she was enjoying it. What was wrong with her mind? If she were to orgasm, she would be irreparably damaged. Diara finally burst into tears, overcome with unbearable fear.
“Your Majesty, please, anything, I’ll do anything. Ugh, every, every day you want, I’ll do it with my mouth. Ahh, there, I don’t want the back... Please.... Ugh, please.”
She begged, not even knowing what she was saying. She rubbed her palms together, searching for words that would resonate with the man. Tears welled up in her hot eyes, streaming down her cheeks. The endless welling of tears blurred her vision, making it impossible to see.
It was then. The thing stuck in her back slipped out smoothly, and her raised buttocks tumbled down. He gently pulled away from his clasped hands and wrapped both arms behind his neck.
“Say it again.”
“Ugh, ugh...”
“What are you saying with your mouth?”
His high nose brushed against her sweaty nose. His hot breath gave off a sour scent.
“I, I’ll suck your dick with my mouth... slurp, whenever you want.”
“You will suck my dick whenever I want.”
“Yes, yes, Your Majesty.”
Diara nodded hastily at the question, which seemed to be a retort. Perhaps he was satisfied with the answer. The man's eyes narrowed, and the corners of his red lips sagged.
As if seeing something funny, or just something new, the lips that had been drawn with a curved line burst out in laughter.
“It’s cute.”
“Ugh...”
“It’s cute, but...”
His mouth tilted over her panting lips. He continued to chuckle softly as he bit her upper and lower lips simultaneously and lightly licked the gaping slit.
The warmth of the man spreading across their touching chests and the slow beating of her heart made her feel like she was being crushed by a massive beast, not a human. Their lips touched, parted, and then reconnected, their tongues brushing against each other several times.
“I think the innocent Princess is mistaken about something.”
"... Yes?"
"Think about it. You're my offering. So you're mine now."
“...”
“When I want something, isn’t it natural for me to use it as I want?”
The disposition of an object rests solely with the owner. And now that she was his, her use and disposal were entirely at his discretion. The voice, reminding her of a forgotten fact, was cruelly gentle.
“So, from now on, you have to wait for me with your mouth, your vagina, or even your asshole open whenever I want, without me having to ask for your permission.”
Despair flashed across the woman's face at the whispered voice. Wet eyelashes clung to her azure eyes, their trembling like torn flower petals.
“Isn’t that so?”
As he licked away the falling tears with his tongue, he felt the arms wrapped around his neck tremble slightly.
“That, that, of course... but... but...”
“But what?”
He climbed onto Diara's body, thrusting his cock between her legs and slowly moving back and forth. He placed the glans between her bulging pubic muscles and rubbed it as if he was about to insert it.
“If you listen well, I can treat you a little better.”
Squeak squeak. The soaking wet skin clung to each other and then separated, making a lewd sound. As the rock-like glans repeatedly slid halfway into and out of the slippery entrance, Diara's face grew increasingly red.
The woman's breathing became ragged as he rubbed and rubbed her clitoris, which had been raised to the tip of his shaft. Her plump labia majora licked and licked the top of his shaft.
Unable to bear it any longer, he grabbed Diara's thighs and pinned her down, aligning his blunt penis with her entrance and thrusting it in.
“Ahhh!”
The boulder-like tip pushed deep into the fingernail-sized hole. The flesh that had been squelching against the flesh that had been thrust in together tightened, as if about to tear, and she heard a sound of something tearing from within. Or perhaps it was the sound of her pelvis opening. Her entire body tingled, as if every bone in her body, not just her stomach, had been torn apart.
Surprised by the first intrusion, her inner walls spasmed. Instinctively, the hole tightened and released, desperately trying to contain the man, clenching tightly around him as if it had teeth. A gasp escaped Rahikan's lips at the dizzying stimulation.
“Relax down there.”
“Ah, ah... ah...”
Rahikan, who was looking down at the panting Diara from above, put his weight on her waist and pressed her down.
“I told you to take your strength out.”
“Ugh! Ugh! Ugh!”
Pok, pok, pok. With each thrust of his hips, the forearm-sized dick was swallowed finger by finger. Diara's mouth gaped open as if she were receiving it with her mouth.
Finally, after completely consuming the entire shaft, down to the root, the piling-like thrusting motions ceased. The crimson hole, stretched to its limit, trembled as it bit the sturdy pillar.
"Ha..."
He patted the inside of her thigh as he brushed her sweat-soaked hair back.
“Don’t hold on, just relax here. Then you can move.”
“Ugh...”
“I told you to relax. Are you going to keep being stubborn?”
Diara's eyes fluttered in confusion. His voice was clear, but she couldn't make out a single word. Every time his fingertips touched her, she could feel the flesh clinging to her, trembling.
Even though it was her own body, it was a place she'd lived her entire life without even realizing it existed before she met him. Her mind went blank, as if she had been given a difficult assignment.
“Uh, I don’t know what to do, ugh, I don’t know, uh. I, I’m not doing it on purpose, it just feels tiring on its own...”
Even if he just put it in, Diara was out of breath and would fall down.
“Uh, how do you do it, ugh, please teach me....”
As she shuddered, unable to move a finger, the corners of his mouth curled up. A laugh, perhaps incredulous, perhaps amused, rippled through her stomach. The man's upper body tilted, and his picturesque face came closer to her nose. Long fingers brushed under her trembling eyes and dabbed the damp bridge of her nose.
“Please give it to me, not ‘give me’.”
“Teach me, please.”
“Teach me how to fuck my pussy with your dick, Your Majesty.”
Whether or not he did, the man's eyes that met hers were as calm as ever, and his languid lips were so elegant that she couldn't believe he had said such a thing.
"No?"
“...Uh, how...”
“If you don’t like it, then don’t say it.”
“No, just a moment... Ah, ah! Ugh, ugh, hagh...!”
Rahikan didn't wait. The belated plea was swallowed by a groan that seemed to be about to burst out.
Diara's ribs shook violently, as if they were going to break, as he kneaded her chest and heaved her waist. Her back arched like a bow, her toes lifted high, and her strong toes gripped the bedding.
Thud, thud, thud thud thud. A dull pain stabbed down below. Every time the red pillar moved in and out, a piece of flesh was torn off and buried deep inside, and the hole, which had grown so wide that it could no longer open, made a crunching sound like teeth gnashing.
As she bucked and bucked, her struggling body was pushed to the edge of the bed. Her vision was thrown upside down as her head, having lost its support, dropped sharply. Her hair, like a waterfall, cascaded down, covering the floor like a torrent of water.
He turned his back as he leisurely chased after her, then grabbed Diara's wrists with one hand and smiled.
“Where are you going like that?”
“Ah, ah, ah...”
“Does it hurt that much?”
He pulled it out deeply and pushed it in slowly, asking,
“Ah, ah, it hurts...”
“If I tell you to open it, open it, and if I tell you to shake it, shake it.”
“Ugh, uh...”
“What if you say you can’t do it before you even start?”
I can't. I can't do this. Diara wept bitterly, as if she had become a child. Stories of all the women who had received him crawling on all fours floated through her mind. Now she understood why. The problem wasn't the snake's head, but what was at stake.
If you stick something this huge in there, the hole will be ruined. There's no way you can teach something like this. Tears welled up at the corners of her eyes, running down her temples and onto her forehead.
Rahikan stroked her messy hair and made a soothing sound, as if he was soothing a child.
Shh, shh, good girl. He stroked the edge of his chin, which had fallen back, and slowly rubbed the inside. Leaning on that hand, she rubbed the tip of her nose, and a low laugh escaped him. "You're being a brat," he muttered.
But unlike his soft voice, the way he rubbed the wall was merciless. Each time the rounded, heavy object squelched the hole, her fingers and toes curled and uncurled, as if grasping the air.
“Can you stand it?”
Finally, he pressed firmly against the cervix, asking gently, "I'll push this far in. Can you hold it?" A blunt object gently pressed against the inside, as if asking, "I'll push this far in. Can you hold it?" His face was obscured by her upturned vision, and the sensation of the pounding in her stomach became even more vivid.
“Don’t lose your mind. If you faint, you’ll get in trouble.”
Ugh, ugh. Instead of an answer, a thin snail rang out.
“Yeah, that’s good.”
Instead of her head, he stroked her erect nipple as if he were stroking her head. His rock-hard palm patted the tender bump and gently squeezed her breast. For a moment, his gentle touch put her mind at ease.
“Ah, ah! ah! Ah!”
He pressed his pelvis against hers, suddenly increasing his speed and thrusting upward. As if it had been nothing more than a joke, the unbelievable speed of the stimulation made Diara let out a scream-like moan.
No, no, ah, ah, ah! A short, shallow slap followed the cracking scream, mercilessly pounding her stomach.
Bang bang bang bang! Something was hammering into my uterus. The heat that had been crawling between her legs shot up her tailbone and spine like lightning, gripping the back of her neck. Her muscles tightened as if bitten by a giant claw, and she trembled uncontrollably.
Every time something thick and hard scraped relentlessly against her flesh, goosebumps ran down Diara's body. The repeated friction made the interlocking points burn, almost as if they were on fire, ready to melt.
“Ah, ah, ah, ah!”
Her thighs clung tightly to his as her moans grew louder. She kept her buttocks pressed against the floor, lifting her waist high so her navel rested against his lower abdomen.
More, more, more.
The trigger was thrusting into her hole, and she didn't even realize that the pain that felt like her bottom was being torn apart had already been replaced by a dizzying pleasure. Her body, desperately trying to open her vagina and suck in more of the pleasure pouring in, was completely out of her control.
“Yes, stop tightening it. Ugh, it’s going to tear.”
The knee, pushing between her clam-like thighs, opened them wide. Her thighs, swaying with the force, now pressed firmly against his waist.
As both hands were held, the sound of flesh slapping against flesh could be heard from afar. Not even her occasional sobs or his low growls, nothing else reached her ears.
She felt as if she was impaled on a harpoon, unable to move; her stomach rumbled with each thrust. Her flesh, crushed by the merciless beatings, clung to his flesh and fell off.
The sight that had been flashing white flashed like a lightning bolt and then suddenly became pitch black as if she had been covered in ink.
“Haaak...!”
With a short groan, the woman's back arched dizzyingly, as if it were about to break. She floated in the air, her widened bottom pressed against his lower abdomen, and shuddered.
It was the first orgasm Diara had ever experienced since she was born.
While her orgasm, unaware of its climax, gripped the pillar and convulsed, Rahikan wrapped one hand around Diara's wrists and gently caressed her arched back with the other. The fluid overflowing from their joints dripped from the tip of her tailbone, soaking his hand with its sticky texture.
“Whew... what is this...”
The woman's skin was dazzlingly white and smooth, like sand sifted through a hundred times. It seemed as if it would flow through his fingers, but then bounced back elastically, clinging tightly to his palm.
As he stroked the area between her soft buttocks and the hard tailbone, he sighed involuntarily at the sensation of her inner walls vibrating from the inside where the glans was embedded to the entrance where the root was bitten.
He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her toward him. Thump, thump, light kisses trailed from her shoulder to the nape of her neck. Each time his lips brushed against her sticky skin, a tingling sensation ran down her spine, as if a mouse were about to fly.
The body that had been trembling shed a few more hot liquids, and the breath that had been panting as if it were about to fall changed into a light texture that felt like it was about to fly away.
“Wake up.”
He must have noticed that Diara was about to lose her mind, so he lightly slapped her cheek and laughed.
“Huh, huh...”
He grabbed her flushed cheek and forced her to look at him. Her dilated pupils were unfocused and shaking, and she looked as if she were about to faint. A few more pats to her cheek finally brought her eyes, which looked like soft, bead-like beads, back to him.
"Don't come to your senses. I haven't even started yet, and you want to finish it by yourself."
“That, that's not...”
"What?"
“Ugh... That, that’s enough...”
He burst out laughing at the sight of her speaking informally with her eyes half-closed.
“Oh, stop it.”
A large, fork-like hand gripped her slender neck and pressed down on the spot where her groin was. The sensation of the force cutting off her air and clogging her blood vessels was the first thing that struck her face, a terrible pain.
"Ah...!"
The muscles in her body, once completely relaxed, tightened as if pulled by a string. Diara's eyes widened, as if they were about to pop out. Her trembling hand struggled to tear away the thick hand wrapped around her neck.
"The King of Feldif sent me a pretty-faced fool. Who would think you were a well-bred Princess, but you're so spoiled."
“Ouch, ugh, ugh!”
“You don’t know how to spread it, you don’t know how to suck it. You’re so impatient... Even if I try to thrust it gently, huh?”
“Ugh, cough, cough..."
“Aren’t you going to spread your legs wide?”
The sound of laughter, as he turned his waist around, was low and ferocious.
Following the man's slow, groaning movements, a heavy, dull pain crashed down on Diara's head. Instead of her clogged windpipe, her gill-like openings flared, growing hotter and hotter. With each gasp, natural tears streamed down her face.
“Breathe.”
“Huk! Haa, haa, hak...!”
“Huh...Yes.”
Even when she scratched and hit his arm, he wouldn't budge. Only when her vision was starting to dizzy did he briefly release the grip, then tighten it again, as if pulling back on the reins. Once, twice, three times. Once again, twice. Diara couldn't come to her senses because of the irregular rhythm of her breathing.
"Ah."
A long stream of saliva flowed from above, dripping down into her gaping mouth. At the same time, the grip on her throat loosened as if by magic. The lukewarm saliva, moistening her parched mucous membranes with the oxygen of a refreshing shower, was so welcome it brought tears to her eyes.
“Ah, ugh...”
Her flushed face and bloodshot eyes searched for him. He looked down at her pitifully quivering lips, smiling, and spat again. The thick, white liquid was sucked into her crimson mouth, leaving no residue. She licked every last drop, even the dripping liquid running down her lower lip, several times, thoroughly consuming it.
Soon, Diara learned to breathe only when he allowed her to. When pressed, she would hold her breath as if diving, then wait for a moment for him to release her, then inhale air. Once she learned this, being strangled felt no different from being kissed.
At one point, the flashing lights before her eyes suddenly became pitch-black. Her ears began to ring, and her limbs felt heavy, as if she were sinking into a swamp. The hand that had been struggling to claw at him dropped to the ground and grabbed the blanket.
Her thighs spasmed intermittently, pounding against his pelvis, and Diara unconsciously began to buck her hips and rub her lower body. She pulled back halfway, thrusting deeply, and rubbed his glans against the soft cervix, squeezing the shaft with her throbbing vaginal opening.
She rocked back and forth, making a squeaking sound. The shallow movement of the things filling her body was spine-chillingly pleasurable. Her trembling body became quiet, and the only sound in the now-silent room was the sound of her gaping hole squeaking as it swallowed him.
The flickering candlelight danced over her snake-like body, slippery with sweat. Even the dull ache that had been making her head spin had long since transformed into a deep, weighty pleasure.
“Ha... You eat so greedily.”
Rahikan's lips overlapped Diara's. He licked her teeth with his long tongue and swirled it around her quivering mouth. "Tsssssss," he said, sucking as if to pull out her tongue's root. Slowly, their tongues met and rubbed against each other. He nipped and sucked the small tongue that was swirling around him, then pulled out his long tongue and viciously licked the gaping mouth.
“Is it that delicious?”
“Huh, uhhh…”
A sigh escaped her lips, regretting the brief separation. Diara, barely able to resist the urge to cling to him and rub her lips against his, suddenly trembled with self-loathing.
"Good."
'No way. This is just my body's reaction. He's Feldif's enemy, the plunderer who stole my entire future. The mere presence of such a man's genitals inside me should have made me feel sick. So it couldn't be good. It couldn't be good... '
Fortunately, the confusion didn't last long. Fingers dug into her hair, grabbed a strand, and pulled it back. Her slender neck snapped back as her chin slowly rose. Tension rose again in her body, briefly relaxed, and the muscles tensed from her thighs to the inside of her knees.
“Ah, ahh...!”
“Ahhh, yeah!”
The dick that had been slowly pulling out came rushing back in deep inside with a thud.
He thrust in, thrusting until the cervix was pushed up. Diara's hand spread wide, then curled up like a fern and scratched his back mercilessly.
Every time she tried to pull back, he would playfully thrust deep inside her, twisting his hips. The more she struggled, the deeper he went, and the more he shook, her thighs trembling. A forced pleasure shot up her spine. Her heated body gripped the man and shook him greedily.
“Ah, aah, ah, Your Majesty, aah, ah!”
Diara couldn't endure it any longer. Her body, having once tasted paradise, whined like a crying child, crying for what it had been like before. The endless groans left her speechless. The pleasure surging from below, driving away every last ounce of self-loathing and shame, without a trace.
“Ah, ah, oh, oh yeah...! Ahhh!”
"What?"
A sharp laugh licked her ear and returned to her lips. He sucked hard enough to hollow her cheeks, then released them, and smiled mischievously.
“I can’t hear it because of the sound of the water.”
As he laughed, shaking his back, her ten toes spread out like a fan. Then, she curled up, and the sound of water splashing rang in her ears.
In her shaky vision, the man's eyes, lowered, were narrowly smiling. Diara easily shook off the shame that was about to surge back.
“Yes, ah, good.”
“Ah, ah, ah, ah, ah, ah!”
Fortunately, the confusion didn't last long. Fingers dug into her hair, grabbed a strand, and pulled it back. Her slender neck snapped back as her chin slowly rose. Tension rose again in her body, briefly relaxed, and the muscles tensed from her thighs to the inside of her knees.
“Ah, ahh...!”
“You like it when I shove it in, don't you?”
The dick that had been slowly pulling out came rushing back in deep inside with a thud.
He thrust in, thrusting until the cervix was pushed up. Diara's hand spread wide, then curled up like a fern and scratched his back mercilessly.
Every time she tried to pull back, he would playfully thrust deep inside her, twisting his hips. The more she struggled, the deeper he went, and the more he shook, her thighs trembling. A forced pleasure shot up her spine. Her heated body gripped the man and shook him greedily.
“Ah, aah, ah, Your Majesty, aah, ah!”
Diara couldn't endure it any longer. Her body, having once tasted paradise, whined like a crying child, crying for what it had been like before. The endless groans left her speechless. The pleasure surging from below, driving away every last ounce of self-loathing and shame, without a trace.
“Ah, ah, oh, oh yeah...! Ahhh!”
"What?"
A sharp laugh licked her ear and returned to her lips. He sucked hard enough to hollow her cheeks, then released them, and smiled mischievously.
“I can’t hear it because of the sound of the water.”
As he laughed, shaking his back, her ten toes spread out like a fan. Then, she curled up, and the sound of water splashing rang in her ears.
In her shaky vision, the man's eyes, lowered, were narrowly smiling. Diara easily shook off the shame that was about to surge back.
“Yes, ah, good.”
“Then thank you for your grace, Your Majesty. I will do it.”
"Again."
“Gah, ahh, ahh, haah!”
“I can’t understand what you’re saying. Why don’t you speak properly?”
The hand that had been kneading and squeezing her breasts slapped her nipples with a loud thud. A tingling sensation, like being whipped, shot through her chest from the peak. Then, a hand gently pressed and pulled her nipples, sending goosebumps through her body as if electrified.
“Huh, huh...”
“Tell me exactly what you’re thankful for and how you did it for me.”
Her fallen head rose again at the touch of a hand, grabbing and pulling her hair. Her vision distorted, and her eyes, trembling as if about to spill over, searched for him, her neck bent backward.
The dim light from the thatched roof illuminated his gleaming yellow eyes. His eyes, gleaming with heat, resembled the scorching sun.
The Emperor of Cardion. The great desert sun. He was a merciless god, a clawed demon. A chill filled her stomach. Feeling the pressure of his thrusts, Diara opened her trembling mouth with all her might.
“Thank you for the cock..”
"Where."
“Oh, my pussy, oh...!”
“Oh, my pussy, oh...!”
“Yeah. Stick it in your pussy.”
“Thank you, sir. Yes, thank you.”
After chewing her tongue several times and finally giving him a satisfactory answer, their lips, which had briefly parted, finally met again. She desperately bit down on the tongue thrust deep into her throat, almost piercing it.
Their slick, slimy tongues entangle like two greedy snakes, exploring each other. As she tasted him, sucked him, and shook him, her heart pounded so hard it felt like it was going to burst, tearing at her skin. It wasn't just where they were intertwined, but everywhere he touched, it ached. Just the touch of his soaking, slippery skin, his soft, damp hair, his firm chest and thighs sent goosebumps up her face.
As she clung to him, rubbing her buttocks, he responded by pulling Diara's thighs closer. Her body, drawn in, was completely hidden beneath the man's shadow. Pressed down by his massive, armor-clad form, she felt as if every bone in her body would crumble.
And soon the second climax hit her like lightning.
The woman, who had reached the heights she had longed for, gasped and groaned. Just as her screams, like shreds, were about to burst, his galloping movements suddenly stopped. Rahikan, who had thrust deep inside Diara, unleashed his ejaculation.
***
The sunlight streaming through the window was dazzling. Feldif, with its year-round mild climate, traditionally favored the style of veiling wide, round windows with thin, veil-like fabrics. A breeze blew from outside, caressing her face.
Diara, who had been blinking in a daze, suddenly sat up. Beneath the thin blanket that had slid down, her sticky body was still naked.
It's crazy.
Her clenched lips stung sharply. Not just her lips, but her entire body ached, as if she had been thoroughly beaten.
Rahikan, lying next to her, was as silent as death. She slowly rose, trying not to wake the man, but a long arm suddenly reached out and grabbed her waist, pulling her closer.
“Ah, Your Majesty.”
"Hmm."
Rahikan, who had been lying face down, rolled over onto his side and trapped Diara in his arms. Her body was crushed by steel-like arms, and even though she tried to resist with a gentle push, he didn't budge. Instead, his grip tightened, suffocating her.
“Ah, Your Majesty.”
“Yeah, yes. Yes, I understand. Stop calling me.”
The hand that had reached under the blanket grasped her swollen chest. Its caressing gesture was unhesitating, as if it had been his from the beginning.
Trapped between his broad, strong shoulders, unable to move, Diara felt like a mouse held captive by a giant. His hot body emanated a faint scent of sweat, a subtle fleshy odor, and the musky scent she's been smelling all night.
“I thought your name was Diara?”
“Yes, yes, Your Majesty.”
“Hmm...”
The man's voice, as if just waking from sleep, was sharp. He rubbed the bridge of his nose against Diara's round shoulder, then spun her around and laid her down.
Something brushed against her lower abdomen, rising between his rock-like thighs. Diara moaned softly. The sensation of the dick moving in and out of her bottom last night was eerily familiar.
Even as she passed out, woke up, and passed out again, it was still there, like a lie. The hole that had bitten the vicious pillar all night still gaped open, leaving her with a sense of emptiness and numbness.
“Flower. Not a name befitting a lewd woman.”
Her slender body, seemingly small enough to be caught in a handful, was covered in the marks he had left behind. Her pale skin, caked with dried semen, was mottled with bite marks and sucking marks, and bluish bruises bloomed across her breasts.
The bulging lips, chewed and sucked to the point of peeling skin, were as swollen as the swollen eyelids, a sight unseen by any other carp. Yet, strangely, the sight didn't bother him. In fact, he much preferred the disheveled appearance of the previous night, when it had come in adorned with decorations.
Rahikan tilted his head and slowly sucked Diara's lips. Her blood-stained lips were salty yet sweet.
“From now on, I will call you Lara.”
Lara. In the Imperial tongue, it meant snake. Specifically, it meant a snake with a reddish hue, like a flower. It seemed like a fitting name for a woman with a sleek body that shone like a snake's scales. Just thinking about the hole that had bitten and squeezed him, whining, made her seem more like a snake than a flower.
His lips, sweeping down her chin, took a large bite of her plump breast. He rubbed his tongue against her nipple and licked the pink areola, making a slurping sound.
“Huh... Ugh...”
The body squirming beneath him tickled. He, absorbed in sucking her breasts, thrust his raging precum between the woman's thighs.
As he slowly rubbed between her legs, Diara groaned, her hips bucking. As he spread her fleshy flesh with his blunt glans and rubbed her throbbing entrance, her moans grew louder. Of course, it wasn't a reaction of pleasure, but of pain.
Up until now, every woman who'd spent their first night with him couldn't even walk, let alone sit, the next day. Even without looking, he could feel their swollen lower abdomens, so it was clear they were probably dying, too. Sure enough, the backs of their hands, clenched and flailing against the blankets, were pale.
“Push your thighs together.”
Regardless, Rahikan was only interested in rubbing his heated shaft against the woman's body. The smooth, slender thighs, in contrast to her ample breasts, felt so good that he sighed as they clung to his cock. The head of his cock, thrusting through the swell of flesh, poked and poked her pussy.
“Ugh, ugh, ugh...”
The moan that barely escaped through her clenched teeth made his heart race. Unable to suppress the urge, he forcibly spread the swollen flesh and pushed the glans halfway in.
Contrary to expectations that she would scream and struggle, Diara opened her eyes wide and gasped briefly, offering no resistance. Instead, her hand, clutching the bedding and flapping, scratched his thigh a couple of times.
The cramped interior of her vagina was filled with the cum he'd ejaculated overnight. Instead of dried-up love juice, the cum that gushed out with every press of her entrance became the lubricant he needed.
As he pushed and pulled, rubbing up and down, making a creaking sound, the flesh that was clinging to him grew hotter and hotter.
"Ha..."
Should I just poke it in like this, all the way to the roots?
The woman's reaction, squealing at the slightest movement, even as if she were biting the tip of a spear and squirming, was truly satisfying. The thought of her pussy, now even tighter than yesterday, clenching and jerking around his cock sent a tingling sensation through his lower abdomen.
Rahikan, who had been conflicted, quickly changed his mind. He and his army were scheduled to leave Feldif before sunset today. With the long journey ahead of them, he realized that if he succumbed to the temptation now, her frail body might be ruined.
“Spread your legs.”
"Ah..."
Despair filled her eyes, shaking with her feeble breathing. What did he do? She frowned, dumbfounded.
“Anyone watching would think I'm about to eat you alive. I won't shove it in, so just spread your legs.”
Rahikan, holding the thick pillar in his hand, placed it against Diara's thigh and began to stroke it. Each time his long fingers stroked the massive shaft, a slapping sound was heard. Each time the hot, round tip poked the inside of her thigh, the woman shuddered slightly.
He let it out without suppressing the rapidly rising sensation. The semen that poured out onto his palm was thin, like water. Even after smearing it between the woman's legs, the remaining fluid dripped down between his fingers.
“Yes, ah.”
He brought his clammy hand to her lips and shook it, causing the woman to blush and look down. Her lips, slightly parted, approached and gently nipped at his fingertip. The liquid dripping down the back of his hand was sucked, drop by drop, between her puckered lips.
His fingers were thick and long, too thick to fit in Diara's mouth. She bit them, making her cheeks bulge, and her small tongue, flicking between his fingers, was as red as a flower petal.
Despite her seemingly submissive demeanor, her strangely lecherous gestures aroused a sense of sadism. He curled his index finger, gently rubbing it over her molars, then deliberately touched her Adam's apple. He found it amusing that she gagged like a baby animal, and he chuckled.
“You eat everything I give you. You don’t have to ask. You know what I mean.”
Diara nodded silently as he whispered, scraping her tongue. He pulled his hand away, which had been cleanly sucked, and thrust his tongue in as if offering a reward. Her small mouth, which had been waiting for it, accepted it with a thud, and the inside of it felt warm.
Rahikan licked and tasted every nook and cranny of Diara's mucous membranes until he was sick of them, then released her. The woman, free from his embrace, sat up, her shoulders hunched.
Her hair flowed over her round shoulders, draping her slender body like a veil. As he reflected on the sight, resembling a red rose, the conversation he had with his subordinates before entering Feldif flashed through Rahikan's mind.
"Will the King offer Princess Diara?"
"Well."
Diara Iliaf. Known as the Red Rose of Feldif, the youngest daughter of the King, was dearly cherished by the King. Her beauty, unparalleled by human standards, was already renowned throughout the land.
"They say few people have actually seen her. She is praised as the flower of flowers spreads far and wide, so I'm curious to see what she looks like."
"What are you going to do with something that isn't even yours?"
Rahikan felt a little bored as he responded indifferently to his subordinate's curious reaction.
Even if she was rumored to be beautiful, it was obvious she was no different from any other woman. Even the empire of Cardion had its fair share of exceptional beauties, and as Emperor, he could summon them to his bedroom with a simple nod whenever he pleased.
"Rumors, as always, are exaggerated and far-fetched. Don't you know that even after experiencing it firsthand?"
The subordinate scratched the back of his head awkwardly at the words that made him click his tongue.
"Indeed... After hearing Your Majesty's words, I see. Rumors are not to be trusted."
It was just after the successful conclusion of the first conquest. The defeated King, as a sign of complete submission, sent his daughter to serve him at night.
The Princess, who entered with a calm expression, served him with a familiarity, as if she had experienced this situation countless times before. He had no particular reason to refuse, but Rahikan could not have known then that that night would be the beginning of everything.
The Emperor of Cardion spared his kingdom from destruction in exchange for the Princess.
What began in the cramped bedroom traveled beyond the walls, blinded by eyes and ears. The horse, carried by the sandstorm, gained weight day by day, growing larger by feeding on anxiety and fear.
It took less than two weeks for the belief that there was only one way to appease the murderous Emperor to become a fait accompli. On their tongues, he became a paraphiliac, a serpent-like voracious, a tyrant who treated women like dogs and wielded a sword, and finally, a deranged nymphomaniac bent on taking every Princess on the continent as a concubine.
And now, when the banners of Cardion fluttered beyond the golden sands, the Kings, fearful of defeat, would thrust the most beautiful of their daughters into his chamber.
Although it was unexpected and absurd, it wasn't a bad thing from Rahikan's perspective.
In a desert battle centered around cavalry, the quicker and lighter the battle, the better. If an easy surrender could be secured, the more vicious and bizarre the rumors about it became.
Moreover, he enjoyed affairs with women as much as battle, so it was truly killing two birds with one stone. It goes without saying that one night with the Princesses of defeated nations provided him with the right amount of entertainment and comfort during the long war.
However, King of Feldif was the first King to go beyond a declaration of surrender and completely give up the fight, demanding that his territory be made a vassal state.
The soldiers following Rahikan burst into laughter at the sight of him opening the gates wide as if he had been waiting and scattering flowers of welcome.
"This is so well-planned, I'd believe it even if you invited me."
"Even if I return to my home country, I don't think I'll be able to receive this level of hospitality."
He entered the palace, trampling on flowers and listening to the sly jokes. The old King, who had rushed out barefoot, bowed at his feet as if he were greeting his former master. However, there was something else that made Rahikan laugh even more than the King's servile, almost servile, abject cowardice.
"Will you offer the Princess as a tribute?"
These were the words that came from the King's mouth, who had requested a private meeting before the banquet. At the question, the King's forehead pressed even closer to the floor.
"If you so permit, Your Majesty."
“I heard you love your daughters, especially your youngest daughter.”
The King could not have been unaware of Rahikan's way of treating women. True or not, the exaggerated rumors about him could not have escaped the ears of this old fox.
"That's why I only wish to offer it to the Emperor. Isn't it the natural duty and obligation of a loyal subject to offer the most precious and valuable thing one possesses to his lord?"
Being born as a woman and being able to serve His Majesty the Emperor, the supreme ruler of the world, would be an honor beyond measure. My daughter, too, hopes to serve His Majesty with the same heart.
The appeal, which began with a desperate voice, ended with these words.
"It's also virtual."
The audacity to discuss loyalty to the leader of an enemy nation, calling him "lord" or "loyal subject," was astonishing. A cold mockery crossed Rahikan's face as he looked down at the wooden coffin resting on his graying crown. It quickly dissolved.
Even the most pathetic incompetence felt refreshing at this level. The three-inch tongue, flickering as if oiled, strangely piqued his interest. He wondered how far this old fox and his dissolute daughter would go in a fit of rhythm.
"I accept that feeling."
"Your Majesty!" the King exclaimed, like a loyal subject receiving praise for his achievements. As he turned, the old King's voice, bowing repeatedly, echoed incessantly behind him.
For this reason, Rahikan harbored his own expectations when the impudent Princess, who longed to serve him with the same loyalty as her father, entered his bedroom. He hoped she would lie flat like a dog and lick his feet.
The moment the veil was lifted, his eyes flashed with a dazzling gleam of green. The moment he met them, a shock as strong as lightning left him paralyzed.
When their eyes met, the woman's lips trembled slightly. Her lips, contrasting with her crystal-clear, deep-set eyes, were so red and luscious that it seemed believable that what was inside them wasn't tongue, but honey.
They say it's just a pitiful flower, but isn't this a demon that devours men?
But even he hesitated for a moment, and in the ensuing bed, the woman was utterly inexperienced and clumsy. She possessed neither the drive or ambition to seduce a man with her beauty, nor the skill to flirt with a sly smile. It was a feeling of emptiness.
What are you going to do with this offering?
The woman's hands, knowing or not, gently brushed her tangled hair to one side. She seemed to be braiding it, untangling it, and dividing it into three sections.
Rahikan, who had been watching Diara's actions with a languid feeling, naturally reached out. The plump, swaying breasts between her soft, flowing hair were a sight to behold. As he stroked her soft breasts and teased her nipples, he could clearly see the fluffy hair on her earlobes turning a deep red.
“What lewd thoughts are you having that make your face turn red? Isn’t that enough?”
“No, Your Majesty. That’s not it.”
She shook her head in horror, as if to say absolutely not. He chuckled inwardly, watching her frozen hands start to move again. It was agonizing to see her tremble and blush at even the smallest joke.
Je couldn't figure out what the scheming King was planning on offering such a reckless thing as a tribute, but it didn't matter. After all, the woman was his now.
As the saying goes, "seeing is believing." He didn't particularly want it, but once he received it, he was so captivated by it that he lost all desire to return it. Even if he could tease it until he was sick of it and then shove it in a corner, this beautiful white trophy would never escape his grasp.
After a long, dreamless sleep, Rahikan woke up feeling light and refreshed. Feeling satisfied, Rahikan rose from his seat. The early morning sunlight poured down on his body, stretching out its arms like a cat waking from a nap. Diara watched him striding naked, seemingly without shame, with fearful eyes.
With his broad shoulders and muscular body, he looked more like a soldier on the battlefield than an Emperor. Unlike his father, who always remained within the castle walls with a pale face, he possessed the body of a strong, wild man, unafraid of being exposed to the sun. Had she not known his true nature, Diara might have found his body beautiful, but her gaze was soon captivated.
Are all Cardion men like this? Their muscular skin glowed golden, and they seemed to be made of a completely different material, from their skin color to their bone structure, than the comparatively small and slender Feldif men.
The broad back and waist that made up his massive body were covered in scars that seemed to have been torn and stitched up by swords and spears, but the most noticeable of them was a long burn scar that stretched from his right shoulder to his thigh.
The mark, a deep gray color, seemed to be very old, as if burnt skin had been pressed into place, and looked more like a tiger's stripes than a scar.
Maybe he was hit by a fire arrow during the war?
If it left such a large scar, it must have been a very serious injury. Diara had seen countless soldiers who had suffered burns on the battlefield only to die from the heat and inflammation after barely surviving. It's often said that burns are the worst kind of pain a human can endure.
But even the fearsome fire seemed insufficient to kill this man. If even the blazing flames couldn't harm him, who in this world could defeat him and save themselves?
Diara shook her head, shaking off the melancholy that was slowly creeping up on her. It was all over. Now, whether alive or dead, she belonged entirely to him, so there was no point in wishing for his death.
Rahikan, walking with his long legs swaying, picked up a carelessly scattered outer garment and draped it over his shoulders. Diara, who had followed him, was about to pick up her own clothes, which were also rolling on the floor.
"Your Majesty."
“Come in.”
"Oh no!"
The moment she exclaimed, "Oh no," the door burst open. Diara leaped back into bed like a cat on fire. She frantically pulled the thin sheets over her naked body, covering it.
“Great Desert Sun, Your Majesty the Emperor.”
The one kneeling and offering a salute was a soldier of Cardion, clad in black armor. His gaze was fixed solely on his Emperor, as if he didn't even see Diara. Still, her startled heart struggled to calm.
Even though she was practically a prisoner, this was Feldif's palace. And it was the bridal chamber where the Princess, who had just had her first night with the Emperor, lay. It was not an area where armed soldiers could enter.
Even if you ask me to come in after I send you out, that would be fine.
But seeing Rahikan glance at her only briefly despite her earnest gaze, Diara realized she would soon have to get used to this kind of treatment. Trembling naked in a room filled with the traces of lovemaking, her face flushed with shame even though she was covered.
“We have completed preparations for the advance.”
"Yes."
“What will you do with the tribute? The cart has been prepared.”
Outside the window, fifteen carts pulled by white camels and fifteen by gray donkeys. Atop them, a mountain of goods awaited: eclectic silks, porcelain, red grape wine, seven-embroidered carpets, and five-leafed gold coins. Looking out the window, Rahikan gave his order without a hint of hesitation.
“Just make sure you pack enough alcohol for the soldiers. Leave the rest behind.”
Even if it was a tribute offered by the King of a small country, from his perspective, it was nothing more than trash. In any case, the initial goal of conquering Feldif had been achieved.
A strong liquor made from high-quality fruit. Furthermore, with the border connecting the two deserts now complete, trivial tributes would only be a burden on the long journey.
Rahikan, wearing a sewn-in outer garment, took a sip of wine from the table.
“Leave one empty carriage behind.”
“Yes, Your Majesty. I will obey your command.”
He indifferently watched the man walk away, then turned his gaze towards the bed with the curtain drawn.
The light streaming in through the wide window poured dazzlingly onto the woman. He gazed into her turquoise eyes and downed the remaining alcohol in his glass. The woman trapped in the purple glass rippled, flowing into his mouth.
This was all he could take from here.
***
After Cardion's troops withdrew and even Rahikan left, Diara remained alone in her bedroom. A commotion was heard from the hallway, and soon the King of Feldif burst into the bedroom, accompanied by three maids.
“Father...?”
Diara, who was about to return to her room at the King's sudden visit, froze like a statue. Her father only visited her like this when he had done something wrong.
Diara looked around with bewilderment at the women who had entered with the King. The maids, draped in red from head to toe, exuded an eerie aura, almost human and yet ghostly. They were the red-veiled maids who served the King from the closest quarters, guarding the concubines and Princesses and governing all the palace maids.
The King, standing among them in his royal attire, had a pale complexion, as if he hadn't slept well the night before. He sat on a chair with a weary face and gestured toward his maids.
“Check.”
Two maids immediately approached Diara's back and grabbed one of her arms.
“Oh, wait, wait a minute... Whoa!”
The maids, acting on the King's orders, pretended not to hear the Princess's panicked screams. Her futile protests were easily suppressed, and her hands were tightly bound. The remaining maid took out what appeared to be a bird's feather from a lily box. The feather, about the size of a palm, was flawlessly white.
What on earth was she planning on doing with that? Unlike Diara, who was bound half-naked, the maid seated between her legs was covered by a bright red veil, her face obscured from view. It was a dead ringer for the harsh bathing she'd been given last night. Diara's lips turned blue.
“Father, why, why are you doing this?”
"I need to know if you've served the Emperor properly. That's all, so just be quiet."
The King responded annoyedly to the Princess's question.
“Sometimes there are fox cubs who try to fool others by cutting off their little fingers.”
He looked down coldly at the red marks that had fallen on the bedding where they had just spent their first night. A soft, white feather had slipped between the Princess's legs. While Diara tightly closed her eyes, it slid out, slid inside, and entered the maid's mouth.
“You were embraced."
The sensation of lukewarm semen, the traces of blood mixed with it, and even the sour, pungent smell. Clear evidence of a male and female having sex was laid before the King's feet.
"Ha...!"
During the brief moment of the ceremony, the King, who had been anxiously rubbing his temples, let out a joyful exclamation. His brisk strides passed the heads of the prostrate maids and headed toward the trembling Princess.
“You were so stubborn and didn’t eat or drink at the entire banquet, making me worry... You did well.”
“...Ugh.”
The King grabbed Diara's chin and turned her to face him. Her small jaw, pale with humiliation and fear, clacked in his hand. He gazed with greedy eyes at the nape of his daughter's neck, where blue bruises, like leaf veins, had formed.
“What did he say to you when he saw you? Did he touch your body and face with pleasure? How many times did he kiss your breasts and vagina? On your lips?”
“I don’t know, Father. I don’t know about that...”
“Answer me!”
The King grasped the sobbing Princess's shoulder with a violent grip. Veins bulged on the back of his hand, which was as thin as a tree branch. A thin moan escaped Diara's lips.
“Diara Illaf.”
A lowered voice growled menacingly.
“What did I say?”
A putrid stench emanated from the lukewarm breath he exhaled. Diara, who had been closing her eyes, slowly raised her gaze. Her chest tightened as she met his brown eyes, stained with greed.
“This is... a, an opportunity...”
"What?"
“I said that Femdif fate was in your hands.”
“Right, right. That’s right.”
At the satisfactory answer, the King finally smiled, revealing his yellow teeth. His bright smile was filled with joy.
"My sparkling jewel. My beautiful rose. You know how much effort your father put into raising you so beautifully. I knew you would one day fulfill your duty as a child."
The King looked down at the naked, fragile object in his hand. When this round thing was smaller, the King would gaze at it like this every day, long and lingering.
A young daughter born around the time of her first grandchild. The King was deeply pleased with his youngest daughter, who was particularly beautiful among his own children, and treated her like a precious jewel. Even her food, clothing, and use were subject to surveillance and control, and the maids serving Diara were replaced after no more than three months.
Fearing that subversive ideas might be instilled in her, she was kept far away from books, and all contact with nobles and other royals was cut off. She was forced to bathe three times a day in rosewater, and painting, embroidery, and walking were forbidden to prevent her hands and feet from becoming rough.
A quiet, pure, and beautiful daughter.
As the daughter, growing up in the pristine white palace, became more and more captivating, word about Diara spread like wildfire. Soon, wealthy individuals from all over the world began to seek the King, boasting vast fortunes.
Some offered dazzling treasures, others offered mystical creatures be had never heard of, and still others offered their fertile lands. The cunning King seized his daughter like bait, shaking her gently until his desired prey appeared.
It was when Diara was just twelve years old that his net finally caught a satisfying catch.
The man riding the golden camel was the King of a nation renowned as the wealthiest of the seven western kingdoms. With over forty children and grandchildren under his command, the aged King fell in love at first sight with Diara, who was his great-granddaughter.
All commerce in the West will now revolve around Feldif. Of the three gold mines in the center, one will be his, one will be theirs, and the other will belong to Diara's son.
A gentle voice flowed from the mouth of a man in his seventies. His clouded eyes scanned her still-unswelled chest and buttocks, revealing a blatant look.
"He is the one who will become your husband. Come and greet him."
At the King's command, the young daughter ran out the door in terror, but was soon dragged back like a dog by the soldiers.
My pride, my love. My beautiful flower.
Throughout the wedding preparations, the King loved Diara like his tongue and the apple of his eyes.
Eat like a wolf, sleep like a sheep. Grow up quickly and become a woman. On the day your first blood is shed, you will become the happiest and most beautiful bride in the world.
The melody of their kissing songs never faded. The screams, cries, and pleas were suffocated by the King's tireless admonitions and affectionate onslaught. It was six months later that the love songs, which had continued like rounds, finally gave way.
The old King of the west is dead.
A fall from a horse, or rather, a concubine who was riding a horse and causing a funeral. A scorpion with an unrelated, obscene message shattered the King's sweet dreams.
Since the groom and bride never had their first sexual encounter, the marriage was invalid. With the political marriage dissolved, the promised gold mines and exclusive trade agreements were all but null and void. The young King, having ascended the throne, dismissed his earnest protests with a short, mocking letter.
While he was raging like a madman, news arrived that Diara's first flower had bloomed. Menstrual blood, falling like roses on the pristine white bedding, seemed to mock him.
If only it had been just a little bit sooner. The sound of teeth gnashing would have been thunderous. If only it had been just two weeks, or even two days, sooner. The dazzling things that would have fallen into his hands would have scattered like a mirage.
Then, a trembling white thing appeared in the enraged King's eyes. "I was wrong, Father." The tongue flickering within her whispered. A chill ran down the King's temples in disgust. What had been as beautiful as a flower just yesterday now looked like a cunning snake, mocking him. The hunched shoulders, the slender legs hidden between them, were like the tail of a hideous serpent.
You tricked me. You deliberately delayed the bleeding because you didn't want to marry an old pig.
The sound of punches, kicks, and curses continued. Diara, curled up flat and bearing the King's wrath, lost consciousness before she could even plead a few times. From then on, the King never loved Diara again.
Until today. Yes, until today.
The King, who closed his eyes with a heavy heart, recalled the face of the Emperor he had just met.
The Emperor, emerging from his bedroom at dawn, greeted the King with a generous expression. The generosity characteristic of a young male who has just completed a satisfying sexual encounter was leisurely spread across his handsome features.
The arrogant Emperor, who regarded the tribute he had painstakingly prepared as filthy filth, gladly embraced Diara. And that wasn't all. The King, worried that the Emperor might abandon her after a single night of service, was dissatisfied, but he ordered a carriage to be prepared to take Diara back to his homeland.
Everything was going as planned. The King's heart swelled with anticipation, almost bursting. He looked down at his daughter's breasts and thighs, shining like white jade, as if licking them. Diara, bearing the Emperor's seed, now appeared to him more radiant and lovely than dawn.
"For a beautiful woman like you, captivating a man is easier than twisting a child's wrist. Having successfully completed your first night, you're already halfway there. If you can just win his affections and bear him a son, huh?"
In any case, Feldif's geographic and territorial scale limited its ability to become powerful on its own. If it could rise above its small, insignificant state and seize the position of master of the empire, the prospect of later expanding its influence through nepotism wouldn't be a distant dream. If Diara could win the Emperor's favor and become Empress, it would only be a matter of time before wealth, power, and territory fell into his hands.
His bloodshot eyes gleamed with a strange madness. Diara shuddered at the King's pat on the back of her hand.
How dare you capture the Emperor, Rahikan.
She was trembling with fear and a sense of loss at the thought of that distant and presumptuous request.
Father didn't know how Rahikan treated women. Diara looked down in despair as the torn veil rolled across the floor like a rag. Above it lay a broken ivory ornament, carelessly discarded.
Nothing beautiful, gentle, or soft could inspire him. Even a woman adorned with all the jewels and gold in the world, like a peacock, would not win his heart.
"The King of Feldif sent me an idiot with a pretty face."
A mocking, laughing voice lingered in her ears. She had already seen through his true nature and despised him. And yet, how dare someone like me win his heart?
"Just keep doing this from now on. Be obedient and courteous, like a tongue in your mouth. If you do that, not only you, but also Feldif, will shine brightly. Do you understand?"
Her father, who could not understand her feelings of despair, did not hide his excitement.
Her father wouldn't listen to her anyway. It wasn't new to her, having been submissive and courting him since birth. When Diara nodded, the King twisted his lips into a satisfied smile.
“Apply some medicine and send her back looking beautiful without a single scratch.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
The red-veiled maids withdrew, and orders were given to bring ointments and wet towels to the Princess's chambers. Diara, who had been crouching, immediately rose from her seat. Her steps toward the narrow room were unsteady, as if she were about to collapse.
She wore the best clothes she had, and applied the finest anointing. They poured rose oil over her long hair until it sparkled, and covered her pale, bruised skin with powder made of ground pearl.
“That’s okay, stop it.”
“But, Princess.”
“Really. It’s okay.”
Diara stopped the maid from putting on her hair ornament, the final step in her makeup. She remembered how Rahikan had mocked her the night before, calling her a parrot in heat.
She had no confidence in winning his heart, but that didn't mean she didn't feel pain when she was openly looked down on.
As she was about to leave, Diara suddenly looked back at the room she had lived in. She had never left this place for long since she was born.
This small space, so familiar she could walk around with her eyes closed, was her life, her world. Even if it was lonely and cramped, it was still her world. Thinking it might be her last, she sometimes wanted to take everything in the room, and sometimes she didn't want to take anything.
Diara stood silently for a while, taking in the furniture, as old as her age yet still beautiful, the walls made of clear quartz, the rose-colored bedding, and the deep blue carpet.
In a lonely life without a mother whose face she couldn't even remember and no friends to share her heart with, objects that sparkled like stars were always on Diara's side.
Goodbye, bed. Goodbye, ash tree window frame.
Thank you for hugging me and hiding me.
Goodbye, goodbye. Take care.
A silent greeting lingered in her mouth and then disappeared.
“Princess, is there anything else you need?”
“No. Nothing.”
It was better not to take anything precious. She was the only one who could be ruined. The steps Diara took as she turned felt like she was stepping on the edge of a cliff.
When Diara, ready to leave, stepped outside, it was still before noon. The high, overhanging sky, despite her anxious feelings, was clear and pristine.
Diara was momentarily speechless at the sight of the carriage, alone among the large and small loads of cargo. Stripped of its silk canopy and awning, its seats and pillows meant to shield it from the scorching desert sun, the carriage looked more like a wooden crate, or perhaps a cage for prisoners or animals, than a carriage.
The comfortable and luxurious carriage, originally intended for Diara, was now in a corner, disassembled beyond recognition, along with the discarded tribute. The reason, they said, was that royal carriages were heavy, with many ornaments, and the horses galloping through the desert could easily tire.
To Rahikan, words were far more precious than Diara, so this was only natural. Perhaps it was a blessing that she wasn't being dragged away, tied up in ropes.
“Oh my god, what the hell is this?”
Finally, Talgar, who had been following Diara, shook her head with a dumbfounded expression and turned around.
It seems the Princess wasn't treated well, even in the empire. She thought she'd get some bean curds since the Emperor was so generous, but that's just how it was.
Diara, who had been watching the retreating Talgar with a lonely heart, took a deep breath as if she had made up her mind.
It's been over ten years since she's lived as a worthless wretch, unable to find a proper husband after a broken engagement, despite the grand names like "Peldif's Rose." She was used to being able to control herself without the help of a maid.
Just as she was about to climb into the carriage, her skirt reaching her ankles, the wooden steps creaked with a sharp noise. The horse, startled by the noise, took a few steps forward. The long hem of her skirt became tangled in the rotating axle.
“Ah, no...!”
A short scream escaped Diara's lips at the sudden turn of events. Even as she hurriedly pulled at the hem of her dress, her skirt, caught in the wheels, was increasingly lifted as the carriage rattled along.
“Uh, uh, uh uh uh...!”
A flustered Diara limped after the carriage, but fell over before she could even hear the crack of her knee hitting the ground.
“Lara.”
The low voice from up high made her hair stand on end. Startled, as if she had committed a crime, Diara turned around.
Rahikan was clad in red imperial garb, a cloak reaching down to his knees. He sat upright atop a black horse with a lapis lazuli glow, his black cloak billowing like waves behind him.
His mere appearance changed the atmosphere around them as if by magic. While Diara was lost in thought, Rahikan leaped down from his horse.
Diara's gaze fell downward, following the sound of footsteps approaching. Her bare legs were exposed through her skirt, which had been pulled up to her thighs. A belated sense of shame flushed her face. She quickly reached for the wheel, but a hand reached out a step ahead of her and roughly grabbed her forearm.
"Ah!"
The back of her head hit a hard shoulder.
“...What are you doing? It’s dangerous.”
The quiet voice was low.
Diara stared blankly as the man's crimson lips slowly opened and closed. In contrast to his expressionless, still face, his grip was clenched with a firm grip. The man's heat, like heavy water, enveloped her entire body, burning hot.
"Your Majesty..."
The force of the attack grew stronger at the sound of the unintentional call. Diara's brow furrowed as a large hand pressed down on her wrist with the intent of breaking it.
“Ugh, ah, it hurts.”
A short sigh escaped his lips at the faint groan. Rahikan, with one hand, easily pulled the hem of her clothes, which had become caught in the wheel, freeing them. He grabbed Diara's unsteady arm and helped her up.
“You can touch the carriage wheels without permission, but you can’t.”
“I, I was trying to get my clothes off the wheel... t-t-t my skirt got caught.”
"You're talking so peacefully right now? If you'd moved, you'd have broken your hand."
Her heart, which had been shrinking, pounded in unison as her eyes narrowed. Just as Rahikan had said, the carriage's wheels had sharp thorns extending outward from the axles, creating a menacing effect. It appeared to be a modified battle tank, not a road tank.
If she had just looked a little closer, she would have known. She felt a belated sense of guilt at the thought of her foolish actions, preoccupied with the sight of bare skin.
“Where you got hurt.”
“It’s okay. I’m fine.”
Diara, with her head bowed, shook her head in a crawling voice.
Her knee was a little bruised, but it was nothing. The fact that he caught her in such a pitiful state again was far more upsetting and frightening than the wound, which would disappear without a trace with just a little saliva.
This worthless idiot. She could almost hear her father's voice. If her father had seen this, she would have already been slapped, so even if she were to be beaten this time, she had nothing to say.
Diara looked fearfully at the horsewhip in Rahikan's hand. Rahikan was nearly twice her father's size. Even her father's whips had left her sore for three or four days, so a blow from him would likely leave her bedridden for at least ten. Her hands clenched tightly around the hem of her skirt.
“I, I was wrong, Your Majesty.”
“You have a knack for surprising people in many ways.”
“I’m sorry... I was wrong...”
My pride, my love. My beautiful flower.
Throughout the wedding preparations, the King loved Diara like his tongue and the apple of his eyes.
Eat like a wolf, sleep like a sheep. Grow up quickly and become a woman. On the day your first blood is shed, you will become the happiest and most beautiful bride in the world.
The melody of their kissing songs never faded. The screams, cries, and pleas were suffocated by the King's tireless admonitions and affectionate onslaught. It was six months later that the love songs, which had continued like rounds, finally gave way.
The old King of the west is dead.
A fall from a horse, or rather, a concubine who was riding a horse and causing a funeral. A scorpion with an unrelated, obscene message shattered the King's sweet dreams.
Since the groom and bride never had their first sexual encounter, the marriage was invalid. With the political marriage dissolved, the promised gold mines and exclusive trade agreements were all but null and void. The young King, having ascended the throne, dismissed his earnest protests with a short, mocking letter.
While he was raging like a madman, news arrived that Diara's first flower had bloomed. Menstrual blood, falling like roses on the pristine white bedding, seemed to mock him.
If only it had been just a little bit sooner. The sound of teeth gnashing would have been thunderous. If only it had been just two weeks, or even two days, sooner. The dazzling things that would have fallen into his hands would have scattered like a mirage.
Then, a trembling white thing appeared in the enraged King's eyes. "I was wrong, Father." The tongue flickering within her whispered. A chill ran down the King's temples in disgust. What had been as beautiful as a flower just yesterday now looked like a cunning snake, mocking him. The hunched shoulders, the slender legs hidden between them, were like the tail of a hideous serpent.
You tricked me. You deliberately delayed the bleeding because you didn't want to marry an old pig.
The sound of punches, kicks, and curses continued. Diara, curled up flat and bearing the King's wrath, lost consciousness before she could even plead a few times. From then on, the King never loved Diara again.
Until today. Yes, until today.
The King, who closed his eyes with a heavy heart, recalled the face of the Emperor he had just met.
The Emperor, emerging from his bedroom at dawn, greeted the King with a generous expression. The generosity characteristic of a young male who has just completed a satisfying sexual encounter was leisurely spread across his handsome features.
The arrogant Emperor, who regarded the tribute he had painstakingly prepared as filthy filth, gladly embraced Diara. And that wasn't all. The King, worried that the Emperor might abandon her after a single night of service, was dissatisfied, but he ordered a carriage to be prepared to take Diara back to his homeland.
Everything was going as planned. The King's heart swelled with anticipation, almost bursting. He looked down at his daughter's breasts and thighs, shining like white jade, as if licking them. Diara, bearing the Emperor's seed, now appeared to him more radiant and lovely than dawn.
"For a beautiful woman like you, captivating a man is easier than twisting a child's wrist. Having successfully completed your first night, you're already halfway there. If you can just win his affections and bear him a son, huh?"
In any case, Feldif's geographic and territorial scale limited its ability to become powerful on its own. If it could rise above its small, insignificant state and seize the position of master of the empire, the prospect of later expanding its influence through nepotism wouldn't be a distant dream. If Diara could win the Emperor's favor and become Empress, it would only be a matter of time before wealth, power, and territory fell into his hands.
His bloodshot eyes gleamed with a strange madness. Diara shuddered at the King's pat on the back of her hand.
How dare you capture the Emperor, Rahikan.
She was trembling with fear and a sense of loss at the thought of that distant and presumptuous request.
Father didn't know how Rahikan treated women. Diara looked down in despair as the torn veil rolled across the floor like a rag. Above it lay a broken ivory ornament, carelessly discarded.
Nothing beautiful, gentle, or soft could inspire him. Even a woman adorned with all the jewels and gold in the world, like a peacock, would not win his heart.
"The King of Feldif sent me an idiot with a pretty face."
A mocking, laughing voice lingered in her ears. She had already seen through his true nature and despised him. And yet, how dare someone like me win his heart?
"Just keep doing this from now on. Be obedient and courteous, like a tongue in your mouth. If you do that, not only you, but also Feldif, will shine brightly. Do you understand?"
Her father, who could not understand her feelings of despair, did not hide his excitement.
Her father wouldn't listen to her anyway. It wasn't new to her, having been submissive and courting him since birth. When Diara nodded, the King twisted his lips into a satisfied smile.
“Apply some medicine and send her back looking beautiful without a single scratch.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
The red-veiled maids withdrew, and orders were given to bring ointments and wet towels to the Princess's chambers. Diara, who had been crouching, immediately rose from her seat. Her steps toward the narrow room were unsteady, as if she were about to collapse.
***
She wore the best clothes she had, and applied the finest anointing. They poured rose oil over her long hair until it sparkled, and covered her pale, bruised skin with powder made of ground pearl.
She applied an ointment for chafed areas to the sore spot tormented all night and put on underwear lined with thin, soft cloth. Once the medicine took effect, the burning pain subsided, but the ointment mixed with the fluid inside kept oozing out, clinging uncomfortably whether sitting or standing, making it unbearably unpleasant.
“But, Princess.”
“Really. It’s okay.”
Diara stopped the maid from putting on her hair ornament, the final step in her makeup. She remembered how Rahikan had mocked her the night before, calling her a parrot in heat.
She had no confidence in winning his heart, but that didn't mean she didn't feel pain when she was openly looked down on.
As she was about to leave, Diara suddenly looked back at the room she had lived in. She had never left this place for long since she was born.
This small space, so familiar she could walk around with her eyes closed, was her life, her world. Even if it was lonely and cramped, it was still her world. Thinking it might be her last, she sometimes wanted to take everything in the room, and sometimes she didn't want to take anything.
Diara stood silently for a while, taking in the furniture, as old as her age yet still beautiful, the walls made of clear quartz, the rose-colored bedding, and the deep blue carpet.
In a lonely life without a mother whose face she couldn't even remember and no friends to share her heart with, objects that sparkled like stars were always on Diara's side.
Goodbye, bed. Goodbye, ash tree window frame.
Thank you for hugging me and hiding me.
Goodbye, goodbye. Take care.
A silent greeting lingered in her mouth and then disappeared.
“Princess, is there anything else you need?”
“No. Nothing.”
It was better not to take anything precious. She was the only one who could be ruined. The steps Diara took as she turned felt like she was stepping on the edge of a cliff.
When Diara, ready to leave, stepped outside, it was still before noon. The high, overhanging sky, despite her anxious feelings, was clear and pristine.
Diara was momentarily speechless at the sight of the carriage, alone among the large and small loads of cargo. Stripped of its silk canopy and awning, its seats and pillows meant to shield it from the scorching desert sun, the carriage looked more like a wooden crate, or perhaps a cage for prisoners or animals, than a carriage.
The comfortable and luxurious carriage, originally intended for Diara, was now in a corner, disassembled beyond recognition, along with the discarded tribute. The reason, they said, was that royal carriages were heavy, with many ornaments, and the horses galloping through the desert could easily tire.
To Rahikan, words were far more precious than Diara, so this was only natural. Perhaps it was a blessing that she wasn't being dragged away, tied up in ropes.
“Oh my god, what the hell is this?”
Finally, Talgar, who had been following Diara, shook her head with a dumbfounded expression and turned around.
It seems the Princess wasn't treated well, even in the empire. She thought she'd get some bean curds since the Emperor was so generous, but that's just how it was.
Diara, who had been watching the retreating Talgar with a lonely heart, took a deep breath as if she had made up her mind.
It's been over ten years since she's lived as a worthless wretch, unable to find a proper husband after a broken engagement, despite the grand names like "Peldif's Rose." She was used to being able to control herself without the help of a maid.
Just as she was about to climb into the carriage, her skirt reaching her ankles, the wooden steps creaked with a sharp noise. The horse, startled by the noise, took a few steps forward. The long hem of her skirt became tangled in the rotating axle.
“Ah, no...!”
A short scream escaped Diara's lips at the sudden turn of events. Even as she hurriedly pulled at the hem of her dress, her skirt, caught in the wheels, was increasingly lifted as the carriage rattled along.
“Uh, uh, uh uh uh...!”
A flustered Diara limped after the carriage, but fell over before she could even hear the crack of her knee hitting the ground.
“Lara.”
The low voice from up high made her hair stand on end. Startled, as if she had committed a crime, Diara turned around.
Rahikan was clad in red imperial garb, a cloak reaching down to his knees. He sat upright atop a black horse with a lapis lazuli glow, his black cloak billowing like waves behind him.
His mere appearance changed the atmosphere around them as if by magic. While Diara was lost in thought, Rahikan leaped down from his horse.
Diara's gaze fell downward, following the sound of footsteps approaching. Her bare legs were exposed through her skirt, which had been pulled up to her thighs. A belated sense of shame flushed her face. She quickly reached for the wheel, but a hand reached out a step ahead of her and roughly grabbed her forearm.
"Ah!"
The back of her head hit a hard shoulder.
“...What are you doing? It’s dangerous.”
The quiet voice was low.
Diara stared blankly as the man's crimson lips slowly opened and closed. In contrast to his expressionless, still face, his grip was clenched with a firm grip. The man's heat, like heavy water, enveloped her entire body, burning hot.
"Your Majesty..."
The force of the attack grew stronger at the sound of the unintentional call. Diara's brow furrowed as a large hand pressed down on her wrist with the intent of breaking it.
“Ugh, ah, it hurts.”
A short sigh escaped his lips at the faint groan. Rahikan, with one hand, easily pulled the hem of her clothes, which had become caught in the wheel, freeing them. He grabbed Diara's unsteady arm and helped her up.
“You can touch the carriage wheels without permission, but you can’t.”
“I, I was trying to get my clothes off the wheel... t-t-t my skirt got caught.”
"You're talking so peacefully right now? If you'd moved, you'd have broken your hand."
Her heart, which had been shrinking, pounded in unison as her eyes narrowed. Just as Rahikan had said, the carriage's wheels had sharp thorns extending outward from the axles, creating a menacing effect. It appeared to be a modified battle tank, not a road tank.
If she had just looked a little closer, she would have known. She felt a belated sense of guilt at the thought of her foolish actions, preoccupied with the sight of bare skin.
“Where you got hurt.”
“It’s okay. I’m fine.”
Diara, with her head bowed, shook her head in a crawling voice.
Her knee was a little bruised, but it was nothing. The fact that he caught her in such a pitiful state again was far more upsetting and frightening than the wound, which would disappear without a trace with just a little saliva.
This worthless idiot. She could almost hear her father's voice. If her father had seen this, she would have already been slapped, so even if she were to be beaten this time, she had nothing to say.
Diara looked fearfully at the horsewhip in Rahikan's hand. Rahikan was nearly twice her father's size. Even her father's whips had left her sore for three or four days, so a blow from him would likely leave her bedridden for at least ten. Her hands clenched tightly around the hem of her skirt.
“I, I was wrong, Your Majesty.”
“You have a knack for surprising people in many ways.”
“I’m sorry... I was wrong...”
At the end of the crawling voice, her head dropped sharply. Rahikan, looking down at her clenched fist, reached out.
“Stay still. I need to check to see if you’re hurt.”
He lightly grabbed the thing that was trying to run away.
The hand that had quietly entered his grasp felt as if it would be crushed with the slightest pressure. It wasn't just the hand, but the woman's entire body. Her soft cheeks, her silky hair, her overflowing breasts, her slender waist. Even the slightest touch left the marks he had left on her skin, which was so tender it could be bruised.
“There’s a bruise all the way down to your wrist. Did you get it yesterday?”
“No, I... I, I’m fine...”
As Diara fiddled with her sweaty hands, the woman shifted her gaze from side to side, seeming to be in utter discomfort. She pursed her lips, blinked, and when he didn't let go, she finally began whining like a puppy in need.
She must really hate being touched. Rahikan chuckled, feeling inexplicably twisted. Until dawn, she'd been clinging to him, calling him "Your Majesty, Your Majesty." She'd been shaking her butt and wagging her tail.
“This is ridiculous.”
The woman's face turned pale, as if frightened by the muttering.
“Yes, I was wrong...”
"Yeah, you did something wrong, so you should apologize. But that doesn't seem like the attitude of someone who's sorry."
Diara's shoulders jerked at the sound of the whip he was holding being dropped. Her eyes, daunted, stared up at him in bewilderment. Her cowering expression resembled that of a scolded child. Her small face, framed by wide eyes, seemed quite small.
“I don’t think you're stupid. Is it a habit of you to pretend not to know?”
"... Yes?"
“I must have told you this many times.”
“Wh, what?”
"That's not how you ask for my forgiveness. Surely you wouldn't say you don't remember what I told you last night already."
As she looked up at Rahikan, her green eyes were filled with a mixture of doubt, confusion, and bewilderment.
Her bitten lower lip curled inward and then popped out. Soon, he looked down at her flushed, red eyes and reached out to touch them. His hand brushed beneath her trembling eyes and then slid down to her chin.
“No, not at night, but this morning?”
The man's voice, lowered, was gentle. Following the pounding of her heart beneath her chin, memories of the previous night flashed before Diara's eyes.
This morning. To be exact, it was around dawn.
"I told you I'd get in trouble if you fainted on your own."
Despite Rahikan's orders, the lovemaking that lasted until dawn proved utterly impossible for Diara's physical strength. She bit him and fell into a deep, almost deathly sleep. Several times, she woke up with a jerk, the pain of a bite to the back of her neck.
"It seems like you're finding intercourse with me quite boring."
Finally, Rahikan turned Diara over and asked, "Boring?" "I'm bored? Swinging someone until they're unconscious and then watching them collapse? I'm bored." Lacking the will to protest, he simply let out a weary breath, and his lips rested on her half-closed eyes.
"You need to build up your stamina, Princess."
The breath that licked her heavy eyelids was hot, but it remained calm, without any sign of roughness. It was impossible to tell whether the narrowed eyes were angry or smiling.
I was wrong. Please forgive me. The apology, for what may have been the umpteenth time, cracked at the tip of her throat. He chuckled softly, kissing her dry lips.
"I didn't say that to ask for an apology."
“...Ugh.”
"And that's not how you ask for forgiveness."
A sharp voice filled her lungs and slowly left.
But here?
The voice that was about to blurt out was swallowed by his raised eyebrows. His quiet gaze seemed to warn her not to make him say it again.
Diara, nervous, took a slow breath. She held the air that had been rushing into her chest, and took a step toward him.
Tall and lanky, Diara's head barely touched his shoulder. Standing a step away, she lifted her head, tiptoeing, and lightly pressed her lips to his jaw. It was a light, silent kiss.
“I was wrong...”
"Again."
Before she could even ask for forgiveness, Rahikan gave an order as soon as her lips left his mouth.
“Don’t you know what it means to kiss someone?”
"Do I have to teach you from the beginning?" His downcast eyes silently glared at her. Diara, her face flushed with tears, bit her lip.
He said the order was to first make eye contact, then kiss, and then say, "I was wrong." Rahikan made it sound simple, but from Diara's perspective, it was anything but easy.
Those gleaming yellow eyes were like those of a beast, and just looking into them took her breath away. No, it wasn't just his eyes that were terrifying.
The man's shoulders, like a massive wall, surrounded her, broad and majestic. Unlike her own, his body was rough and solid, his hands, his heavy musky scent, his warmth radiating subtly across her skin—all of this combined to create an intangible weight that overwhelmed her. Just standing a little closer, she felt as if she were completely swallowed up in the shadow he cast.
The sight of him waiting without a word of urging made her heart burn. With her back clammy, Diara took another step toward him.
Her toes lifted high, and her tightly closed lips barely touched his lower lip. This time, she decided to hold on, rather than pull away, thinking it would be better. While Diara held her breath, Rahikan stood still, watching her as she acted.
“...”
What should I do now? Is it okay to take it off or not?
She was at a loss, his expressionless, impassive face. Cold sweat poured down her tense back like rain. A hand, wandering through the air, touched his shoulder, and Rahikan finally tilted his head slightly.
“Don’t just stand there, suck it.”
Their noses brushed against his crooked head. His breath, suddenly ripped out by the whisper between their lips, hit Diara's face, and she bit down hard on his lip.
His warm lips felt like the only soft part of his body. As she licked them, cautiously, Rahikan's head gradually tilted downward. Her raised feet clung to the floor, and he took a half-step back, his hunched back colliding with the carriage.
“Ugh...”
A large hand gently pulled her waist, which was trembling at the rattling sound.
“Keep going.”
The gaze that met her nose was as cloudy and gloomy as the voice.
These were the eyes of the man who had violated her several times last night. His gaze, violent and cruel, a mixture of conquest and passion, sent shivers down her spine.
Diara bit his lower lip, sucking it loudly, then lightly licked his clenched teeth. She blinked once at the narrowed eyes, then again at the slightly warped corners of them. Finally, his tongue, thrust through her parted teeth, slowly licked the mucous membrane before slipping out.
The warmth that had filled her mouth escaped. Her tongue, which had chased him with a sense of regret, was trapped in his mouth. It was chewed to the root, and a wet sound filled her throat as it slurped beneath her tongue.
Neither fast nor slow, Rahikan moved leisurely, like a predator, indulgent with a full stomach, handling its prey. She closed her eyes and swallowed the generous amount of saliva, which he was given as if suckling. Each tepid spit, wetting her esophagus, stung her navel.
“Ugh.”
Rahikan chuckled at the whimpering moan. A burst of laughter, as if unable to contain the laughter, tickled the corners of her mouth.
Only then did Diara realize she was licking his tongue absentmindedly. She was so distracted she hadn't even realized she'd wrapped her arms around his neck. Her face felt as hot as if on fire.
I'm crazy. My head must be completely messed up. Diara tried to turn around and run, but her waist was caught.
“Where are you going?”
With a quick tug, Diara was pulled into his embrace in the blink of an eye. His steely arms wrapped around her slender waist, their bodies pressed so close that their stomachs were touching.
“Huh? Suck it all you want.”
The quietly smiling eyes seemed to mock her. Diara twisted her waist and pushed him, a surge of contempt welling up in her.
“Let me go, let me go.”
“I don’t like it.”
His timid defiance was easily rebuffed. Rahikan tilted his head and buried his nose beneath Diara's ear.
"Ah...!"
Diara's voluminous hair swayed behind her flustered back. Her back arched and her toes curled involuntarily.
He sniffed at her neck like a giant dog, his nose burrowing into her throat. The sensation of the man's warm breath wafting through her nostrils was all too vivid. Goosebumps ran down her spine wherever his breath touched her nose.
“You smell very sweet. Have you taken a bath?”
“Ah, Your Majesty... Ugh, just a moment...”
"Rose?"
“Yes. It’s perfume. Well, I use it for my hair.”
“Hmm.”
No matter how much she hunched her shoulders and struggled, she couldn't escape his broad, firm embrace. Tuck, tuck—as lips traced the slender curve of my neck and pressed down, strength flowed through me to my very toes. A sight she hadn't seen when they kissed, now flooded into her trembling vision.
Armed soldiers, servants, and maids of Feldif Palace carrying luggage, and others whose identities were unclear, hurried past behind him.
The Cardion soldiers leading the horse glanced in this direction absentmindedly, then quickly turned their heads away as if it were nothing. It wasn't out of politeness, but rather an attitude that the Emperor's lust for women was perfectly natural and not surprising.
But like the Feldif who avert their gaze with a look of shock when their eyes meet, Diara could not help but be indifferent.
Even if they were physically related, high-ranking nobles or royalty would never flaunt their affection in this way. At least not in Feldif. Of course, what he was flaunting wasn't affection or anything, and it wasn't something she should be saying, having just sucked his lips.
Her head was spinning with disorganized thoughts. Everything was a mess, from start to finish.
At that moment, a hand slid under Diara's buttocks and lifted her up. Diara flinched at the sight of her body rising, clutching his head. She thought she heard laughter beneath her chest, but she no longer had the energy to care.
“Lara.”
His scent came from the breath that was dissipating as he pressed against her cheek. A manly scent, similar to wine, but a bit cheaper and heavier.
The lips that were touching the area very close to the lips, closer to the corner of the mouth than the cheek, lightly bit the lower lip.
“Don’t use anything like this again. I don’t want mine to smell different.”
“What, a different smell?”
"Yeah. This body should only smell like me. You know what I mean?"
He looked up at Diara, his lips still on her chin.
Diara realized a beat too late that the thing Rahikan was talking about was rose oil, a distraction from his many actions.
As she perched on his muscular arms, she found herself looking down at him rudely. As Diara blinked absentmindedly, his thick, black hair swayed gently between his eyebrows.
She thought he was trying to ridicule and humiliate her. But the expression on his face as she met him from up high was far from that of someone trying to bully someone.
“Yes, Your Majesty. I won’t use the perfume again.”
He rolled his eyes in satisfaction at the simple answer.
Rahikan patted Diara's cheek as if praising her, put her in the carriage, and closed the door. Only at the sound of the latch locking shut did Diara, now alone, let out a long, long breath.
“...I, I was so surprised...”
She wasn't beaten or scolded. Still, it was strange. Even after her butt hit the hard floor, her heart pounded, as if she was about to get motion sickness, and it didn't calm down.
When she placed her finger on the lip where his fangs had touched, her heart pounded like a pounding drum against it. Instead of the familiar scent of roses, the smell of his breath lingered in her nostrils, a feeling so strange she couldn't describe it.
Diara, who had been caressing her throbbing lips, crawled inside the carriage. She crouched down on the cramped, hard floor.
While waiting for the beating of the drum, which sounded like a small drum, to subside, the thin cotton cloth surrounding the window swelled like a ship's sail and slowly sank.
A horn sounded in the distance, and the stopped carriage began to rattle and move forward.
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