Chapter 102
After that dog-like banquet, he, who had been so promiscuous, hadn’t had a single satisfying release. With the member he used to waste freely no longer working as freely as before, Elliot was in despair.
Some days, even though a simmering heat bubbled inside, it wouldn’t rise at all; other days, his seed would trickle out and then stop.
On the days he thought of that day, of that woman, his member would stand rigid, but it would either fail to climax or the climax would be cut short, wilting on its own.
He used to e*******e almost as regularly as eating meals, but now he couldn’t even manage that. The pleasure essential to his life had vanished in an instant—how could he possibly live in his right mind?
The reasons he couldn’t resolve this were just two. First, he was, after all, the Crown Prince, the successor to the throne. It wasn’t easy to admit he had been excited by being humiliated by a woman.
‘What if someone finds out?’
He was engulfed in all sorts of delusions. Of course, he rationalized to some extent by reminding himself there was someone else who had been brought down even more.
‘Even that bastard who’s now a Duke lies flat on his belly, groveling for the pleasure she gives, so what’s so great about being Crown Prince?’
At times like that, the second reason became a problem… It was the fact that no matter how hard he searched, there was no way to meet that Witch. How on earth could he find the woman who had disappeared into the Ducal household?
Because of this, he attended state council meetings, tried inviting the witch to the Imperial Palace, sent letters requesting visits to the Ducal estate—he pulled every trick imaginable, but the walls of House de Xtion were higher than expected. All his efforts were in vain.
Already, the next year had arrived, and he was still stuck in that day, in that place.
Elliot, unable to return to his former self, groaned alone, unable to empty the turmoil inside him. All he could do was reminisce about that day.
In those recollections, he felt once more the shock that had upended his life, tasted again the humiliation that threatened his position as Crown Prince. And inevitably, he gasped with excitement just like the first time.
Where had that sharp gleam in his eyes gone? He was a man who lost focus, his crimson pupils crying out in excitement. The raw moans that had echoed with the witch’s movements still seemed to linger in his ears. In her hands, Ronius de Xtion was nothing but a beast clinging solely to pleasure.
‘Those damn, lucky bastards…’
While those two were passionately entangled, he, the Crown Prince, was stuck there, panting with that damned bone in his mouth. Remembering his helpless fate of being forced to just watch fueled his resentment once more.
But even as he resented them, he felt that if he could just experience that pleasure and excitement again, even for a brief moment, he would do anything. If only she would accept him…
“How should I teach you some manners?”
He didn’t care if he was treated like a dog with a bone in its mouth.
Elliot was that desperate.
“So… if you want to get something, lie flat on your belly and wag your tail. Even then, I might give it or I might not.”
The hand that had seized the man known as the strongest in the Empire, gripping his own member with savage force. The vivid, overwhelming pleasure that assaulted him within that pain. Despite her utterly insolent words and actions, his excitement wouldn’t cease. Having experienced that, how could his body ever return to the way it was before? Before him, a conspicuous bulge had already formed. He replayed the entire process in his mind as if transported back to that moment. Truly, it was a chilling, electrifying afterimage.
Starting from the balcony where he’d been forced—under the blasphemous threat of “What mutt wears clothes?”—to strip after all…
“You’ll have to crawl.”
The hallway. A single word tossed at him as he shrank back, completely naked.
“Looks like the imperial palace mutt can’t even do this right. Roni’s good at this, you know… Right, Roni?”
Adding to that, the humiliating comparison uttered loudly enough for all to hear finally made him kneel, and he crawled across the palace corridor where he usually swaggered about with the imposing dignity of the Crown Prince.
The imperial maids passing by him as he crawled shamefully on the floor. The guards posted everywhere, watching over every corner of the palace. He couldn’t even muster the courage to check if they could see him or were pretending not to.
He was the palace’s notorious problem child, infamous for his antics—would they just turn a blind eye even to this? Would rumors fly tomorrow? Would a report reach the Emperor? Each time these anxious thoughts brushed his mind, he endured the shame, unable to lift his head.
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