The Elf I Want to Be in a Relationship With (7)

The elf's narrowed eyes shimmered with tears. While Theorad hesitated, she pushed herself upright, breathing harshly.

Her silver hair, hopelessly disheveled by their intercourse, fell over her shoulders. A weak sound escaped between her teeth, almost a moan, interrupted by a hiccup.

Now that the pleasure was fading, pain throbbed through her lower body—the pain of what had happened when he first entered her.

Theorad could tell that something was wrong. Anxiously, he reached toward her.

“Are you—”

Smack!

She batted his hand away and growled.

“I told you not to touch me…!”

Her words were slurred, making the furious protest sound almost childish. It only made her humiliation worse. The SEX SLAVE nameplate still hung from her nipple. Semen was still trickling from her reddened, sore vagina. The sheets beneath her were stained with fluid and traces of virgin blood mingled with the moisture released when she climaxed.

There was no dignity to be salvaged from the sight.

The elf bit her lower lip and looked down. Her hand clutched the bedspread so tightly it bunched beneath her fingers. Shame threatened to overwhelm her.

If this goes any further, I'll kill myself.

Only after forcing her breathing under control could she speak distinctly.

“...Move. I'm leaving.”

Those short words broke through the haze of the aphrodisiac in Theorad's head. No matter how he looked at her, this did not seem to be a performance.

He moved back without a word. The elf eased herself off the bed. Her legs wavered under her as she gathered her discarded maid's uniform and opened the door.

Havid was waiting in the corridor. He draped a robe over her shoulders.

“You've been through a great deal. Go to the shared bathroom. The stones heated in the fire have warmed the bath, so you can wash before returning to your room.”

She had no strength left to answer. She merely nodded and passed him in the corridor.

Havid watched her go. Then, with a different expression, he stepped into Theorad's room.

Theorad, suddenly mortified, sprang out of bed and scrambled for his underwear.

“C-Chief Chamberlain! I'm getting dressed! Go outside, quickly!”

“There's no need to make such a fuss. I've been at your side since the day you were born. You may not remember it, my lord, but I used to bathe you when you were very young.”

“That's exactly why this is different!”

“If I were you, I'd put my clothes on before arguing.”

That was difficult to dispute. Theorad coughed, pulled on his underwear and reached for his trousers. Meanwhile Havid went to the bed and lifted the sheets. A smile spread across his face.

“My word. You certainly made quite an effort. I'll put fresh sheets on immediately.”

“...Please do.”

“There'll be some cleaning to do. You should take a bath yourself, my lord. I've set the bathwater to the ideal temperature with a magic device and added bath salts. They'll help you recover from the physical and mental exertion.”

Havid was admirably diligent. On this occasion, his diligence was almost unbearable.

Hadn't he prepared both the servants' bath and the master's bath in advance, then waited outside Theorad's door throughout the encounter? The thought that he might have overheard what happened made Theorad's face grow hot.

Yet he couldn't rebuke an old servant for such considerate work. He nodded and pulled his trousers into place.

“Thank you, as always. It's hardly an exaggeration to say this household keeps running because of you.”

Havid gathered the soiled sheets into his arms and bowed.

“You give me too much credit. I only hope I can ease some of the burdens on your shoulders, my lord.”

“Don't say that. Chief Chamberlain, you're already a tremendous help to me.”

“My lord…”

Theorad had only said what he believed. Havid, however, was visibly moved.

To him, it was almost as if the well-raised son he had watched grow up were telling him, You are someone I can rely upon. Theorad was not his son, of course, but Havid had served the previous head of House Deharem with complete devotion. An old man's fatherly affection was difficult to suppress.

Havid wiped his eyes.

“In any case, I'm glad.”

“...Glad about what?”

“That you've finally experienced intercourse for the first time, my lord. You've never entertained women before, so I was beginning to wonder whether you had any interest in them at all.”

“Of course I do! It's only that…”

Theorad almost said Ashley's name, then stopped.

He could no longer claim he'd been saving his virginity for her. It would be a lie.

“My lord? Was there another reason?”

“It's nothing. Please go now. I'll take a bath after I finish dressing.”

“As you wish.”

Havid nodded and walked toward the door, then stopped as if remembering one last detail.

“Ah. By my reckoning, the time to your first ejaculation was four minutes and twenty-two seconds.”

Theorad flinched. He turned so abruptly that he didn't even try to disguise his embarrassment.

“Wh-what are you talking about?”

“Forgive me. I wasn't trying to listen, but the slave's cries were quite audible. I counted from her first moan to her last. That made four minutes and twenty-two seconds.”

“I wasn't asking how you measured it! Why would you tell me something like that?”

“Because you ought to know. One day you will be with Lady Ashley as well, and surely it's better to know than to remain ignorant.”

Theorad was speechless, rigid with embarrassment. Havid merely smiled kindly and bowed his head.

“Then I'll leave you to it. Do bathe before the water cools. By the time you return, the room will be cleaned and the sheets replaced.”

Havid left with his usual neat, measured steps.

Alone, Theorad tried to bring order to his confused thoughts.

Four minutes and twenty-two seconds…

It had been his first time, and he'd taken an aphrodisiac. Even so, hadn't he ejaculated much too quickly? In the pornography he'd studied, capable men appeared to last for more than twenty minutes.

Frowning, he rubbed his chin. Then he remembered something Beynon had once said with his usual shameless frankness.

“My first time? I was like a rabbit. Three minutes and forty-eight seconds. It was with Tanila, a prostitute at the Red Rose Tavern.”

The memory was comforting. Nobody could be perfect on the first attempt.

Besides…

Four minutes and twenty-two seconds was thirty-four seconds longer than Beynon's three minutes and forty-eight.

Come to think of it, there was no reason to panic.

Could I have a natural talent for this?

That day, Theorad arrived at the exceedingly serious conclusion that his sexual ability was not bad at all.

---

Creak.

An elf in a bathrobe opened the door of her own room and entered. She carried her maid's uniform and the SEX SLAVE nameplate.

Her legs still lacked strength, but walking was manageable. Ignoring the lingering ache in her lower body, she put the uniform on her desk.

Her eyes were unfocused with troubled thoughts. Through the entire bath she had been pursued by one fact she couldn't bring herself to accept: she had failed to take the upper hand in bed.

I…

From the day she was born, she had possessed exceptional gifts. Her insight into magic was only the beginning; she was equally brilliant in the humanities, engineering, and sorcery. Give her even a little instruction in a subject and she'd understand it at once, sometimes surpassing the boundaries of established study. She was the sort of elf who could master something new in a single day.

Naturally, she had assumed she'd be superior in sex as well.

Reality had been another matter.

An elf's memory did not fade the way a human's did. She could recall every detail of what happened with Theorad, and there was no way to rearrange those details into a victory. The person who'd climaxed helplessly in the other's arms had been herself.

Her pointed ears grew hot each time she remembered.

“A mere toy…”

She muttered the words under her breath and examined the nameplate Theorad had fastened to her. At first she'd barely considered it. Now it felt intolerable. Merely looking at the thing brought the entire encounter back to her.

Anger broke through her shame. She hurled the plate against the wall.

Clack!

It fell into a corner of the room.

With a low sigh, she tried to settle her thoughts, climbed into bed and drew the blanket over herself. Her eyelashes lowered as she lay on her side.

...I didn't lose.

It had been her first climax. Naturally, she'd been flustered. Wasn't a woman's first time at an inherent disadvantage compared with a man's?

Then she hadn't lost. In the same circumstances a second time, she would surely subdue Theorad.

Yes. This was merely a step backward so that she could take three forward.

Even as she justified herself, she gripped the blanket uneasily.

Every time she resolved to conquer Theorad, the memory of him entering her deeply returned with humiliating clarity.

How…?

How was she supposed to subdue a man so generously endowed? She couldn't think of an answer. The more she considered it, the more confused she became.

Something else unsettled her. Perhaps it was only an illusion, but she could almost feel his semen still inside her.

Her hand moved unconsciously to her abdomen.

Then she remembered another thing Theorad had said, looking down at her with such apparent indifference.

“Who could ever love a bitch like you?”

Whether Theorad liked her was irrelevant. He was a toy, nothing more. The remark had been ridiculous; that was all.

Yet at the time, she'd felt hurt by it, and even now she couldn't explain why.

In the moonlight she shook her head, eyes half open. Thinking about it would yield no answer.

“An insolent toy…”

She pursed her lips and closed her eyes, just as she always did.

But she couldn't sleep.

After tossing and turning several times, she sighed, sat up and rubbed her eyes. Then she crossed to the far corner of the room and bent to retrieve the discarded plate.

She opened the drawer beside her desk. Inside lay her dog-food bowl.

Carefully, she set the nameplate on top of it.

She closed the drawer. For some reason, she felt more at ease.

Even she could recognize how absurd that was.

“How foolish…”

The elf whispered the words and returned to bed, crawling beneath the covers.

Somehow, she had the feeling that tonight she would be spared the worst of her nightmares.