A Mad Night Walk (3)

By the time I returned to the mansion with the elf, I realized that ordering her to relieve herself against my father's statue had only been the first step toward satisfying her. She still expected more.

Tap. Tap.

My footsteps sounded down the corridor. Beside me, the elf crawled on all fours.

She was still crawling.

Candles burned at regular intervals along the walls, casting a little light into the dark mansion. They did nothing to illuminate a way out of my predicament.

Why are you still on all fours?!

I'd told her as soon as we came inside that the naked walk was over and she could stand on her own two feet. She had shaken her head, tears in her eyes, and insisted that her punishment wasn't finished.

Apparently, the shameless, depraved elf was still unsatisfied.

What more am I supposed to do?!

My face trembled despite my efforts to look composed.

The silence frightened me. On any other night, I would have found the quiet corridors peaceful. Tonight, with that elf crawling beside me, the mansion felt like a vision of hell.

My instincts were sounding an alarm. If I did nothing and simply sent her back to her room, I might die.

“Master… My knees hurt…”

I tried to ignore her plaintive voice and closed my eyes.

Think back. There has to be a reason she's behaving like this.

Everything had a cause. I only needed to work out what she wanted from me.

No. It couldn't be…

I opened my eyes with a heavy sigh. I had a terrible suspicion that I knew exactly what was wrong.

After our naked walk, we'll have some sexual torture.

In my desperation to stay alive, I'd blurted out that promise without thinking.

To the elf, the naked walk must have been an appetizer. The sexual torture was the main course. And now she was staging a silent protest because the chef had failed to serve it.

You idiot!

I cursed my earlier self. Sexual torture? What did I know about sexual torture? I'd never even been in a relationship with a woman!

But the words were already out. There was no taking them back.

Calm down. There has to be a way through this.

It wouldn't be easy, but I was the son of a distinguished noble house. I'd received an education meant to prepare me for every sort of adversity. I couldn't surrender to a challenge like this.

“You shameless creature.”

I stopped and arranged my face into a smile. The elf immediately stopped crawling and looked up at me.

I cleared my throat and loosened my hands.

“Roll over. Your sexual torture is about to begin.”

“M-Master…”

“Don't make me repeat myself.”

I looked down at her coldly. She rolled onto her back like an obedient dog displaying its belly, exposing her breasts and genitals.

Even then, I felt no desire. I was far too frightened of her for anything of the sort.

“First.”

I slipped off a shoe, removed my sock, and put my bare foot into her mouth.

“Kiss my foot. Show me that you've submitted completely.”

It was the same trick I'd resorted to in the courtyard. I couldn't help it. My mind was blank. What else was I supposed to come up with?

“Th-That's too much…!”

Despite her protest, she began licking my sweaty foot obediently.

All right. Surely that's enough.

I tried to pull away, but her tongue slipped between my toes. I hesitated, wondering how far she intended to go, and for a moment I let her continue. Then she took one of my toes into her mouth and began sucking.

Why are you sucking on it?

I'd ordered her to kiss my foot. A kiss! Where had this new activity come from?

For a moment I could only stand there, stunned. Eventually I cleared my throat and lifted my foot out of her mouth.

“Ah…”

Before she could complain about being deprived of it, I acted on instinct and pressed my bare foot against her genitals.

The place was wet. Whether it was from urine or something else, I had no wish to find out.

“Filthy wretch. Does being treated as less than human excite you? You're worse than a dog.”

“Ah… Please don't say things like that…”

“Don't? Hah! I'll stop insulting you when you're dead.”

That came out harsher than I'd intended. I pressed my foot more firmly against her, trying desperately to maintain the brutal performance.

“Ngh…!”

She stuck out her tongue and shuddered.

A rush of happiness surged through me.

Not because I'd discovered some hidden taste for cruelty. No. It was the joy of a man who might actually survive the night.

I'm doing it! It's working!

At this rate, I could get through the rest of the evening. Confidence welled up in me. I increased the pressure with my foot and curled my lip.

“When you first came to this mansion, you acted so dignified. And now look at you. You're filthier than a pig!”

“Ah…!”

“Hah! How does it feel to have your life trampled underfoot?”

“Ugh…”

“Are you miserable? Do you want to die? Say something!”

“Mm…”

Huh?

Her responses were getting weaker.

Did I do something wrong?

I was pressing my foot against her and hurling every vile insult I could think of. I couldn't imagine how to be any more despicable. What was missing?

“Hmm.”

I lowered my foot to the floor and stroked my chin, pretending to consider her punishment.

Buy time. Watch her face. There must be something I've overlooked.

But her expression told me nothing. Her empty eyes were fixed somewhere past my face.

Wait.

She wasn't looking at me.

I followed her gaze. She was staring at the candle burning on the wall behind me.

My mouth fell open as understanding dawned.

Of course! She's wanted me to torture her with candle wax all along!

“It seems ordinary punishment isn't enough to make you understand your place.”

Having settled on a course of action, I turned and took a candlestick from its bracket on the wall. The flame wavered above its wick.

“I'll drip hot wax on you. Perhaps then you'll learn to show me some respect.”

“M-Master, no…! I don't want that…!”

Relief spread through me. Her alarm seemed proof I'd finally guessed correctly.

“Then let's begin our splendid little elf-roasting parade—”

I started to tilt the candlestick, then stopped.

She was looking up at me with tears running down her face. Her grief seemed far more convincing than I'd expected.

“Please… Please, Master…”

Wait. Is she acting? Or does she really hate the idea?

Maybe I'd completely misunderstood. Maybe she hadn't been asking for candle wax at all.

And there was another problem. Wax play was supposed to use candles made to burn at a low temperature. Ordinary candle wax could burn skin badly.

That wouldn't be some sort of game. It would just be torture.

Surely even someone who enjoyed being mistreated wouldn't want to be burned.

I hesitated, then raised my voice in the most arrogant tone I could manage. I needed one last test.

“Very well. I'll give you one chance. But there is a condition. Stop crying and smile at me. Can you manage that much?”

An ordinary slave, faced with bitter insults and the threat of burning wax, could hardly be expected to smile.

But this elf was different. Most of her expressions and gestures were an act. If she was merely playing her role, she ought to be able to smile whenever she pleased.

Please smile.

I don't want to do this.

“Hic… Hic…!”

She only cried harder.

She made no attempt to stop, much less smile. Everything about her seemed to say that I should pour the wax.

Damn it.

“You miserable insect. You brought this on yourself.”

I tilted the candlestick.

A drop of melted wax gathered at the edge and fell onto her stomach.

“Aah!”

There was a faint smell of scorched flesh. A wisp of smoke rose as she screamed.

Cold sweat broke out across my back. I looked up and down the corridor, terrified that her cry would awaken the household.

Did anyone hear?

I couldn't sense anyone coming.

I steadied my pounding heart and forced out a warning.

“Quiet. Scream in my ear one more time and I'll make you regret it.”

“Y-Yes…”

Her voice was thick with tears. She sounded so pitiful that I could no longer tell how much was performance.

I drew a deep breath and let another drop fall.

“—!”

She writhed and clenched her teeth. Watching her hurt was painful even for me.

Acting or not, this is hurting someone.

She might have chosen to behave like this. She might be pretending to suffer. But I was still deliberately inflicting pain on another person.

What had she actually done to deserve it?

I took no pleasure in tormenting women. Each new act of violence struck at what remained of my conscience.

“Tch.”

I'd reached my limit. If I went any further, I felt as though I would lose something essential to being human.

“I'm tired. That's enough for today.”

I threw the candlestick onto the floor. The impact extinguished its flame, and darkness settled over that stretch of corridor.

Only then did I allow my imperious expression to fall away. With my mask gone, guilt and confusion flooded in.

I spent several breaths regaining my composure.

“Clean this up yourself.”

I straightened my clothes, turned, and walked away.

I could feel her watching my back, so I kept my pace steady and dignified.

The instant I rounded the corner and disappeared from her sight, I broke into a run.

I raced down the hall, screaming soundlessly, until I reached my room. I threw myself inside, shut the door, slid the bolt into place, and sank against it.

I'm out of there…!

But it was too soon to celebrate. I needed to see how the elf had taken the evening.

I tapped the ring on my left index finger to activate the surveillance artifact. Blue light spread from the ring and formed a rectangular window in the air, showing the interior of the elf's room.

I waited.

Before long, she entered and sat on her bed. Her face was as unreadable as ever.

She snapped her fingers.

A current of water-laden wind swirled around her body, sweeping away every trace of candle wax. The burns healed in an instant, leaving her skin smooth and unmarked.

Then she yawned.

Rubbing her eyes sleepily, she crawled under the covers and pulled the blanket up to her neck.

“So… Theorad Deharem, was it?”

Her voice was low and commanding, utterly unlike the whimpering I'd heard in the corridor.

I swallowed and waited.

“Hmm.”

She touched a finger to her lips and considered the ceiling, as though reviewing the events of the night.

Then she broke into a radiant smile.

“Tonight wasn't bad at all~ You really do have a talent for this.”

I lived.

“Haaa…”

A long sigh escaped me. I'd survived. Somehow, I'd survived another night—and the prospect of having to do it all again tomorrow filled me with despair.

I dismissed the surveillance window and rubbed a hand over my face.

I made it through today, but…

What about tomorrow? Or the day after?

I was the head of the distinguished House Deharem, a viscount entrusted with the count's confidence. I couldn't let that wicked elf make a fool of me forever.

I had to think of a countermeasure.

Some way to drive the demonic creature occupying my mansion back out of it.

I'll make you regret ever setting foot in this house, elf!

I ground my teeth and tried to stand.

My legs gave way beneath me.

“Ahem…”

Perhaps I'd sit here a little longer.

Just until my nerves settled down.