Theorad Wants to Live (2)

“M-Master… sexual torture…?”

The elf sounded as though she didn't know what I meant.

Seeing her pretend not to understand what she'd been inviting when she asked for punishment made me resent her all over again.

But getting angry wouldn't help. I had a performance to give.

I lowered my eyes and spoke coldly.

“That's right. You said you would accept any punishment. I've decided to grant your wish. Are you frightened now?”

“O-oh, no…”

“Hmph. Then be quiet and listen.”

With a contemptuous smile, I walked past the desk and turned my back to her, facing the window.

There was no grand reason for doing this. Keeping the right expression on my face was exhausting. I simply wanted a moment to relax my facial muscles.

“After everything I warned you about last night, you still haven't learned your lesson.”

I made my voice as solemn as possible. I had to play the cold-blooded psychopath she wanted.

“So I've thought of a letter. Words don't seem to get through to you, so I've decided to write you one.”

I was explaining my plan one step at a time for a reason.

If I launched straight into some punishment and the elf suddenly decided that it wasn't what she wanted, I would be finished.

Better to introduce the idea in advance and watch her reaction.

The elf was, in a sense, my customer. I was giving her a description of the product before putting it into practice. If she looked displeased, I could still change course.

It's a rather clever approach, if I say so myself.

“Of course, an ignorant bug like you would hardly understand a letter written on paper,” I continued. “So I'll take measures to make sure you can never forget it.”

“M-measures…? What do you mean, Master?”

“I'll write the letter on your body. To have my handwriting inscribed on that wretched flesh of yours should be an honor beyond anything a slave like you deserves. Isn't that right?”

There.

The product description was complete.

Now all I needed was the customer's response.

I steadied my breathing, turned around, and looked straight at the elf.

The result was—

“P-please forgive me, Master…!”

An enormous success!

My heart leaped.

Suppressing my delight, I drew out the chair in front of the desk and sat down.

“You don't get to decide whether you're forgiven. I decide what happens to you. Stop whining. Clear everything off the desk.”

“Master… please, just this once…”

“Now!”

I raised my voice, and the elf's shoulders jerked.

“I'm sorry to trouble you…”

With an expression of dejection, she approached the desk and began moving the books and ornaments to the floor, one by one.

While she worked, I lit a candle on the desktop and placed a melting spoon over the flame. I put several beads of sealing wax into the spoon, then sharpened a quill.

There was plenty of ink as well.

Once everything was ready, I cleared my throat and tapped the broad, empty surface of the desk.

“That's enough. Climb up here and lie down.”

“M-Master?”

“Hah. How many times must I explain it? I command; you obey. Don't question my words, and don't stand there looking bewildered.”

“Y-yes…”

Her eyes were wet with tears, but beneath her trembling answer I thought I heard a faint note of happiness.

I gestured with my chin.

The elf raised her hips onto the desk and lowered her upper body, her face flushed as she covered her chest with both hands.

Was she truly embarrassed, or merely acting embarrassed? I couldn't tell.

To be fair, I was embarrassed too.

How was any ordinary man supposed to remain composed with a naked woman lying across his desk?

But I am not an ordinary man right now.

I am a cold-blooded psychopath.

After repeating this to myself a few times, I rose from the chair and lifted the melting spoon.

The beads of sealing wax had dissolved into a smooth liquid.

“Are you ashamed?”

I looked down at her coldly. The elf turned her gaze away and gave a tiny nod.

“A little…”

“If you're ashamed, there's no need to be. I'll dress you myself. Move your hands.”

“…Master?”

“I told you not to question me.”

At my threatening tone, she reluctantly lowered her hands.

For the first time, I could see her breasts clearly from this close.

…So that's what she looks like.

Even in this absurd situation, I couldn't help noticing their natural fullness and how gently their shape settled under their own weight.

I had heard that magical techniques had advanced far enough to enhance a woman's breasts to some degree. But as far as I could tell, there was nothing artificial about hers.

What am I thinking about?

I shook myself free of that utterly useless line of thought and slowly tilted the spoon.

“Grit your teeth. This will be a little hot.”

A little of the molten sealing wax flowed over the edge of the spoon and dropped onto one of the elf's pink nipples.

She recoiled sharply.

“Ah…!”

The heat made her bite her lip. Her shoulders trembled, and her hands tightened into fists as she tried to endure it.

Does she really like this?

The strength of her reaction brought back doubts I couldn't afford to entertain.

I let them go.

Before my courage deserted me, I poured wax onto the other side of her chest as well, then set the spoon back over the candle.

I added a few more beads of sealing wax and studied her face.

“Hah… ha…”

Thank goodness.

Unlike the candle wax I'd dripped on her before, the larger amount of sealing wax poured from the spoon all at once. That, at least, seemed more to her tastes.

I, on the other hand, didn't enjoy this in the slightest.

I thought I could smell burning flesh.

I gave a dismissive snort and picked up the quill.

“An outfit suitable for a filthy creature that doesn't even deserve clothes. Don't you agree?”

“Y-yes… It's far too much for a dirty sow like me…”

Her dreamy, unfocused voice made me certain of one thing.

It's working!

Now that I had found a rhythm, I only had to follow through with what I'd planned. Once she was satisfied, she could return to her room, and I could put this dreadful night behind me.

Perfect.

Congratulating myself on my brilliance, I dipped the quill into the ink.

The next step was simple.

I would write a suitably humiliating message on her stomach, apply more sealing wax, and stamp the wax with the Deharem family seal.

Then the whole performance would be complete.

Right. I just have to write something…

I paused.

…What am I supposed to write?

The words were the most important part.

The entire point was that she would return to her room, look at herself in the mirror, and read the message her master had left on her body.

Even I had to admit that the plan had potential.

But I couldn't write just anything.

An ordinary insult would never satisfy an elf with tastes as warped as hers.

It has to be something crude. Something disgraceful enough to make anyone frown.

There was one problem: I couldn't think of anything like that.

I'd led such a dull, respectable life that even where Ashley was concerned, I knew nothing of this sort of vulgarity. How was I supposed to invent something obscene?

No. There's still a way.

I had read about depravity before.

There was a book that offered all the experiences I lacked, without my having to live through any of them.

The Obscene Hobgoblin Maid.

I had read that wretched novel once, years ago, out of curiosity about what sort of person could have written it.

I'd been young, and the book had made me want to throw up. Surely some of its more memorable lines had stayed with me.

Resting my hand lightly on the elf's stomach, I searched my memory.

—Have you ever seen an elephant's balls? No? Excellent. What you're about to see are an elephant's balls! Now, open your eyes and behold your master's balls!

…Why was there a line like that in a book?

Absolutely not.

I shook my head and tried another.

—Romance hasn't vanished from the world! In an age when money can buy love, true love is nothing but an illusion. But hobgoblins, remember this: as long as you are with me, I will love you more than anyone in the world!

How did I manage to read this garbage?

That wouldn't do either.

There had to be something else.

—Now it's your turn to kiss the sleeping princess's womb with the prince's glans. Let desire awaken you. It may hurt a little, but you must endure it.

For fuck's sake!

I nearly lost my composure.

Why did Father buy a limited-edition hardcover of this?

I wanted to scream at the sheer absurdity of those lines. Unfortunately, I couldn't. The elf, who had grown quiet while I sifted through my memories, was watching me.

Just combine some of the words.

Anything would be better than standing here forever, quill in hand.

I began assembling a sentence out of the three dreadful passages and pressed the nib to her stomach.

“Ah…”

Her body twitched as though the touch tickled, and my first stroke went astray.

I sighed under my breath, then glared down at her.

“Hold your breath. How am I meant to write if the surface keeps moving?”

“I-I'm sorry…”

“Tch.”

Clicking my tongue, I lowered my eyes and began to write.

I began forming a suitably vile sentence from the three dreadful passages I remembered, moving the quill across her skin.

There. Once I've finished the sentence and stamped the seal, I can send her back.

But something had begun to bother me.

The tip of my nose tingled.

Was it the fumes from the hot sealing wax? Or dust drifting through an office that hadn't been aired out?

I couldn't tell.

The irritation grew. I felt a sneeze coming on.

Hold it in. Just until I've finished writing—

“Achoo!”

The sneeze burst out before I could stop it.

My shoulders jerked, and my fingers clenched around the quill.

Damn it.

For a moment, I lost my composure. Then I caught myself.

One sneeze was hardly enough to ruin my performance. Surely the elf would overlook something so small.

All I had to do was finish the sentence and send her away.

I wiped my mouth with my free hand and looked down.

…Huh?

The quill's tip had pierced the elf's skin.

When the sneeze shook me, I must have pressed down too hard.

It can't have gone in very deep.

Only a little. Surely there wouldn't even be any blood.

I swallowed and slowly lifted the quill.

A thin line of blood welled up.

Then the drops began to run.

I'm fucked.

Cold sweat poured down my back.

Would an elf like having her skin pierced?

It was one thing to perform some punishment she appeared to enjoy. This was different. There was blood.

And I hadn't even done it on purpose.

Still… you never know.

Perhaps this was another thing she liked.

Trying desperately to suppress my fear, I turned my head toward her.

The elf met my gaze.

“….”

There was just one problem.

The sharp look in her eyes wasn't friendly at all.