Hiccup.
Was it because she was so shocked? Erna suddenly started hiccuping. Even as she patted her chest to calm herself down, her gaze remained fixed on Callion's lower body.
'Big.'
Its length was longer than the span of her fingers spread as wide as possible. Moreover, the thin cloth starkly revealed not only its length but also its thickness. Erna tried to recall what object had the closest similar thickness.
'...Egg plant?'
She thought of the thick eggplant that had been growing well in the decorative vegetable garden in the Grand Duke's castle grounds. Erna recalled the process of sexual intercourse once again. When the man's penis becomes erect and thickens, it enters the woman's vagina...
That's going to come in? Into my body?
Her face turned pale. No. Absolutely impossible. She could tell just by looking at it. That wasn't the size or thickness to fit into a human body.
Erna's instinct screamed. Hey, run away.
She slowly backed away. As she did so, she glanced sideways at the door leading to her room. Not a shred of today's duty remained in her mind. It was filled only with the thought that she had to survive.
Erna, having pulled herself out from under Callion, tried to quickly roll off the bed to get away. But he moved before she could.
His hand grabbed her. Erna, who had been trying to pull away, slowly lowered her gaze. He had grabbed her. But his hand hadn't grabbed her shoulder, wrist, or leg. What Callion had grabbed was...
Erna stared blankly at the large hand gripping her chest. His actions went beyond mere absurdity, leaving her with no choice but to stare blankly. Just then, Callion's voice, still low and husky, was heard.
"As expected... this place seems to be the softest."
Callion's hand tightened as he muttered. Erna's breasts, held full through her pajamas, changed shape with the movement of his hand. After watching this for a moment, Erna slapped Callion's cheek with all her might.
“Hey, you bastard!”
“Die! You beast!”
That was Erna's last word. Furious to the core, she slipped off the bed and ran, slamming the door to her room shut.
Bang!
The walls shook as if the Grand Duke's castle were collapsing. The trembling of the violently slammed door indicated just how hard she had closed it.
Callion clutched his cheek, which was stinging beyond mere tingling, and stared at the closed door. No matter how small the hand was, the palm that had struck with all its might was bound to be fierce.
Callion felt the metallic taste of blood spreading in his mouth.
“...Isn't this a dream?”
He sat blankly on the bed, trying to think about what had happened to him.
His last memory was clearly of looking at Erna sleeping in bed in disbelief, and then closing his eyes beside her. The problem was that his memory didn't end there.
He was standing in a place he didn't know.
He tried to look around, but everything was hazy, as if shrouded in fog. Although he could see nothing, the scent of flowers wafting from somewhere reassured him.
Callion, who had been standing still for a long time, did not know whether he should move on foot or remain standing in his spot. However, the scent tickling the tip of his nose suddenly became very strong. At that moment, as if entranced, he walked toward the source of the fragrance.
How long had he walked? Just as he was about to stop, wondering if there was any point in continuing to walk toward an unknown place, he saw the back of a woman with golden hair through the hazy fog.
Even though he only saw her from behind, Callion felt a sense of familiarity with her.
Who is it?
He wanted to see the woman's face. So he hurried toward where she was. However, the moment he reached out to grab her, she turned with a laugh and began walking away. Before she was out of the way, Callion saw the clothes she was wearing.
It was an outfit he remembered. A thin, skirt-shaped nightgown made of the same material as the pajamas he wears. Who wore this again?
What lingered in Callion's eyes even more than that was the woman's legs visible through her fluttering nightgown. On the inside of the long legs, visible between the buttons, there was a red handprint left by someone unknown. It was strange. Why did he feel that the handprint on the woman's body was his own? Moreover...
Callion clenched and unclenched his hand. Even though there was nothing in his palm, the sensation of having touched something lingered. A texture that felt very soft and squishy.
He began walking through the fog in search of the woman. Although the thick fog still obscured everything and nothing could be seen, the scent lingered. He moved forward, tracing the traces of the fragrance. It seemed like a floral scent, but it wasn't strong. After walking for quite a while, pondering what on earth the scent could be, the woman from earlier reappeared before him.
He won't miss it this time.
Upon seeing her, Callion felt a desperate urge. He wanted to grab that woman right now, lift up those fluttering nightgowns, and hold onto the white legs that had briefly caught his eye.
He had never felt desire for the body of the opposite sex before. But now, like a starving beast, he craved the woman's flesh ferociously. If only he could grab that woman. If only he could knock her down. And then, if only he could mount her and get completely drunk.
Was it because it was a dream? All the moral norms he had always upheld vanished, leaving only lust within him. Callion was shocked by himself. Yet, even as he thought he was going mad, he did not stop his steps toward the woman.
Perhaps it was thanks to following her so diligently. Not long after, he was able to grab the wrist of the woman who appeared and disappeared before him as if to tease him.
The woman was not surprised despite being suddenly grabbed by a stranger. Instead, she turned around smiling. However, Callion could not see her face due to the thickening fog. He grabbed her wrist and threw her to the ground.
What a rude thing to do.
However, the satisfaction of finally having her in his grasp outweighed the guilt of having threatened someone. The next moment, he found himself frantically searching for the woman's lips. Although her face was still out of sight, he unbelievably found them in an instant and rubbed his own against them frantically. Incredibly vivid sensations flooded him all at once. They were warm and soft. Moreover, her tongue, wrapping itself around his, gave him an indescribable, dizzying thrill. Feeling as if he were holding a flower in his mouth, he moved his tongue even more. It wasn't sweet. Yet, it felt sweet.
After tasting it for quite a while as much as he wanted, he finally pulled his face away and muttered.
"Delicious."
At that moment, he felt the woman he was holding shiver in his hand. Callion almost burst out laughing. Being startled by this was problematic. For he intended to satisfy his other desires right now.
He hurriedly grabbed the woman's leg. As he pulled up her fluttering nightgown, her long, slender leg was revealed. He frantically placed his hand on her ankle. Then, he stroked her leg upward with his hand.
It was truly an act he had never once imagined in his life. He grabbed a stranger, knocked her down, and now he is touching her body and harassing her as he pleases.
By his usual standards, this act was already punishable by death. If someone had done this in front of him, he would have chopped their head off on the spot. But right now, he was committing the very acts he thought he loathed. And he was doing them with great joy.
He hurriedly grabbed her legs and spread them apart.
"It was here."
He saw the red handprint remaining on the inside of the thigh. He placed his hand over the mark. As if acknowledging that he was the one who had left it, the size of the mark and his hand matched perfectly. Callion greedily gripped the soft flesh, filling his hand to overflowing.
Just as expected. The flesh he held tightly was exactly the same sensation that had remained in his hand.
"It's still soft."
He smiled with satisfaction at the feeling that was exactly as he remembered. Callion continued to apply pressure with his hand, savoring the softness. Then, as if daring him to try harder, the woman's legs, which had been pressed tightly together, parted slightly. Callion did not miss that opening. As it became easier to move, he placed his hand on the tender flesh deeper inside. Then, his hand, moving in a hurry, slipped and touched the deepest part of her thigh.
“...”
A soft cloth touched the back of his hand. At that, the woman's body he was holding twitched violently. At that moment, Callion looked to see what he had touched. What he saw was a white cloth. A very thin white cloth covers the private part between her legs.
Callion hesitated for a moment, then reached out his hand toward that spot again. A fierce desire he had never felt before burned within him. No one had told him, yet he knew exactly what he wanted. He wanted to thrust his own into the secret crevice beneath.
I heard you were sick.
He hesitated for a moment as he cupped what he wanted in his large hands. He wanted to enjoy the pleasure. And he hoped that this mysterious woman would feel it with him, not just himself. Suddenly, he remembered Cedric’s words, which he had often blurted out.
Was it because she was so shocked? Erna suddenly started hiccuping. Even as she patted her chest to calm herself down, her gaze remained fixed on Callion's lower body.
'Big.'
Its length was longer than the span of her fingers spread as wide as possible. Moreover, the thin cloth starkly revealed not only its length but also its thickness. Erna tried to recall what object had the closest similar thickness.
'...Egg plant?'
She thought of the thick eggplant that had been growing well in the decorative vegetable garden in the Grand Duke's castle grounds. Erna recalled the process of sexual intercourse once again. When the man's penis becomes erect and thickens, it enters the woman's vagina...
That's going to come in? Into my body?
Her face turned pale. No. Absolutely impossible. She could tell just by looking at it. That wasn't the size or thickness to fit into a human body.
Erna's instinct screamed. Hey, run away.
She slowly backed away. As she did so, she glanced sideways at the door leading to her room. Not a shred of today's duty remained in her mind. It was filled only with the thought that she had to survive.
Erna, having pulled herself out from under Callion, tried to quickly roll off the bed to get away. But he moved before she could.
His hand grabbed her. Erna, who had been trying to pull away, slowly lowered her gaze. He had grabbed her. But his hand hadn't grabbed her shoulder, wrist, or leg. What Callion had grabbed was...
Erna stared blankly at the large hand gripping her chest. His actions went beyond mere absurdity, leaving her with no choice but to stare blankly. Just then, Callion's voice, still low and husky, was heard.
"As expected... this place seems to be the softest."
Callion's hand tightened as he muttered. Erna's breasts, held full through her pajamas, changed shape with the movement of his hand. After watching this for a moment, Erna slapped Callion's cheek with all her might.
“Hey, you bastard!”
***
“Die! You beast!”
That was Erna's last word. Furious to the core, she slipped off the bed and ran, slamming the door to her room shut.
Bang!
The walls shook as if the Grand Duke's castle were collapsing. The trembling of the violently slammed door indicated just how hard she had closed it.
Callion clutched his cheek, which was stinging beyond mere tingling, and stared at the closed door. No matter how small the hand was, the palm that had struck with all its might was bound to be fierce.
Callion felt the metallic taste of blood spreading in his mouth.
“...Isn't this a dream?”
He sat blankly on the bed, trying to think about what had happened to him.
His last memory was clearly of looking at Erna sleeping in bed in disbelief, and then closing his eyes beside her. The problem was that his memory didn't end there.
He was standing in a place he didn't know.
He tried to look around, but everything was hazy, as if shrouded in fog. Although he could see nothing, the scent of flowers wafting from somewhere reassured him.
Callion, who had been standing still for a long time, did not know whether he should move on foot or remain standing in his spot. However, the scent tickling the tip of his nose suddenly became very strong. At that moment, as if entranced, he walked toward the source of the fragrance.
How long had he walked? Just as he was about to stop, wondering if there was any point in continuing to walk toward an unknown place, he saw the back of a woman with golden hair through the hazy fog.
Even though he only saw her from behind, Callion felt a sense of familiarity with her.
Who is it?
He wanted to see the woman's face. So he hurried toward where she was. However, the moment he reached out to grab her, she turned with a laugh and began walking away. Before she was out of the way, Callion saw the clothes she was wearing.
It was an outfit he remembered. A thin, skirt-shaped nightgown made of the same material as the pajamas he wears. Who wore this again?
What lingered in Callion's eyes even more than that was the woman's legs visible through her fluttering nightgown. On the inside of the long legs, visible between the buttons, there was a red handprint left by someone unknown. It was strange. Why did he feel that the handprint on the woman's body was his own? Moreover...
Callion clenched and unclenched his hand. Even though there was nothing in his palm, the sensation of having touched something lingered. A texture that felt very soft and squishy.
He began walking through the fog in search of the woman. Although the thick fog still obscured everything and nothing could be seen, the scent lingered. He moved forward, tracing the traces of the fragrance. It seemed like a floral scent, but it wasn't strong. After walking for quite a while, pondering what on earth the scent could be, the woman from earlier reappeared before him.
He won't miss it this time.
Upon seeing her, Callion felt a desperate urge. He wanted to grab that woman right now, lift up those fluttering nightgowns, and hold onto the white legs that had briefly caught his eye.
He had never felt desire for the body of the opposite sex before. But now, like a starving beast, he craved the woman's flesh ferociously. If only he could grab that woman. If only he could knock her down. And then, if only he could mount her and get completely drunk.
Was it because it was a dream? All the moral norms he had always upheld vanished, leaving only lust within him. Callion was shocked by himself. Yet, even as he thought he was going mad, he did not stop his steps toward the woman.
Perhaps it was thanks to following her so diligently. Not long after, he was able to grab the wrist of the woman who appeared and disappeared before him as if to tease him.
The woman was not surprised despite being suddenly grabbed by a stranger. Instead, she turned around smiling. However, Callion could not see her face due to the thickening fog. He grabbed her wrist and threw her to the ground.
What a rude thing to do.
However, the satisfaction of finally having her in his grasp outweighed the guilt of having threatened someone. The next moment, he found himself frantically searching for the woman's lips. Although her face was still out of sight, he unbelievably found them in an instant and rubbed his own against them frantically. Incredibly vivid sensations flooded him all at once. They were warm and soft. Moreover, her tongue, wrapping itself around his, gave him an indescribable, dizzying thrill. Feeling as if he were holding a flower in his mouth, he moved his tongue even more. It wasn't sweet. Yet, it felt sweet.
After tasting it for quite a while as much as he wanted, he finally pulled his face away and muttered.
"Delicious."
At that moment, he felt the woman he was holding shiver in his hand. Callion almost burst out laughing. Being startled by this was problematic. For he intended to satisfy his other desires right now.
He hurriedly grabbed the woman's leg. As he pulled up her fluttering nightgown, her long, slender leg was revealed. He frantically placed his hand on her ankle. Then, he stroked her leg upward with his hand.
It was truly an act he had never once imagined in his life. He grabbed a stranger, knocked her down, and now he is touching her body and harassing her as he pleases.
By his usual standards, this act was already punishable by death. If someone had done this in front of him, he would have chopped their head off on the spot. But right now, he was committing the very acts he thought he loathed. And he was doing them with great joy.
He hurriedly grabbed her legs and spread them apart.
"It was here."
He saw the red handprint remaining on the inside of the thigh. He placed his hand over the mark. As if acknowledging that he was the one who had left it, the size of the mark and his hand matched perfectly. Callion greedily gripped the soft flesh, filling his hand to overflowing.
Just as expected. The flesh he held tightly was exactly the same sensation that had remained in his hand.
"It's still soft."
He smiled with satisfaction at the feeling that was exactly as he remembered. Callion continued to apply pressure with his hand, savoring the softness. Then, as if daring him to try harder, the woman's legs, which had been pressed tightly together, parted slightly. Callion did not miss that opening. As it became easier to move, he placed his hand on the tender flesh deeper inside. Then, his hand, moving in a hurry, slipped and touched the deepest part of her thigh.
“...”
A soft cloth touched the back of his hand. At that, the woman's body he was holding twitched violently. At that moment, Callion looked to see what he had touched. What he saw was a white cloth. A very thin white cloth covers the private part between her legs.
Callion hesitated for a moment, then reached out his hand toward that spot again. A fierce desire he had never felt before burned within him. No one had told him, yet he knew exactly what he wanted. He wanted to thrust his own into the secret crevice beneath.
I heard you were sick.
He hesitated for a moment as he cupped what he wanted in his large hands. He wanted to enjoy the pleasure. And he hoped that this mysterious woman would feel it with him, not just himself. Suddenly, he remembered Cedric’s words, which he had often blurted out.
When he was away on a long expedition, Cedric used to chatter away at night by the campfire to the young, innocent knights about how to treat women. Callion brushed off Cedric's words as he polished his swords, contemplating whether he should cut off that bastard's tongue with them.
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