The Dialectic of Master and Slave - Chapter 167

Volumes 1-4 + Side Stories of DMS are available uncensored on ko-fi! ※ This work contains depictions of coercive relationships, explicit language, and other graphic content. Reader discretion is advised.

Shocked by his question, Jaha couldn’t speak. So this… is enough to be felt from the outside? How is that even possible?

Unable to believe it, she hesitantly traced her fingers over her lower abdomen. The outline was distinct enough that she could roughly trace its shape.

“I’m in this deep.”

He pressed his thumb firmly against the very end.

Jaha let out a faint whimper. She had vaguely known he was inside, but having it confirmed so viscerally made her feel strange. It was too deep. A surge of fear rose—was it really okay for him to invade her this much?

“Am… Am I going to be alright?”

The moment she asked, she felt foolish. Asking someone else about her own body’s condition? But instead of laughing, Rikanan gently countered:

“Does anything hurt?”

“Not exactly, but…”

There wasn’t any particular pain. It was just unbearably overwhelming due to the absurd size.

When Jaha looked up at him with accusing eyes, the culprit—the man—wore an expression that blurred the line between a smile and a furrowed brow. To be precise, he was trying his best to smile, but the veins straining in his neck made it look otherwise.

“You’re fine, so there’s no need to be scared.”

“But I don’t think I can move…”

“Then should we just stay like this forever?”

Jaha couldn’t answer immediately. Though his demeanor remained consistently gentle, the occasional crease in his forehead, the tension around his eyes, and the subtle clenching of his jaw betrayed just how much he was restraining himself.

While Jaha had come undone countless times, he hadn’t allowed himself release even once. Throughout that long stretch, he’d suppressed his own desires, patiently working to ensure she could take him without pain. Knowing that, she couldn’t bring herself to tell him to hold back any longer.

Watching Jaha frozen in indecision, he bit back a smile.

“Don’t worry. It might feel difficult now, but you’ll start enjoying it soon.”

Though she mentally scoffed at his baseless confidence, a faint thread of anticipation coiled inside her. His kisses, his touch—everything else had felt incredible, after all.

Honestly, it was her first time experiencing pleasure like this. Overwhelming to the point of struggle, but still a first. Yet, based on past experiences, she’d never felt anything inside like this before, leaving her half-doubtful. Maybe it was because she was staying still, but aside from the strain, she didn’t feel much else—

Right then, his thumb pressed firmly into a specific spot on her lower abdomen, where his length stretched her to the limit.

Stars burst behind Jaha’s vision. Her back arched reflexively, toes curling.

What—?

What just happened?

As if to make sure she understood, he kindly pressed the spot again, this time with slow, deliberate pressure.

“Hng—!”

A moan tore from Jaha’s lips as an indescribable pleasure bloomed—her inner walls crushed between his c**k and fingers in a way that defied comprehension.

This sensation was nothing like clitoral stimulation. If that was sharp, electric, and intense, this was something else entirely—a rough yet insistent pulse spreading heavily through her body.

Before her mind could process this unfamiliar feeling, heat pooled between her thighs, slick arousal flooding her.

It was strange. Unlike the instant, mind-numbing pleasure of her c**t being touched, this was more puzzling than outright euphoric—yet her body reacted like this.

“It’s deep inside you.”

“Hngh— ah!”

“Lucky for you. Most wouldn’t reach this spot, but I can grind against it as much as you need.”

Just below where his tip pressed deepest, his fingers massaged her abdomen in slow circles, and Jaha’s thoughts dissolved into static.

“I’ll make you understand. That a size like mine is perfect for you.”

He stroked the swollen curve of her belly where his c**k stretched her, whispering like he was rewriting her instincts. For a moment, she almost nodded—before catching herself and shaking her head frantically. How could this monstrous thing possibly be perfect for her?

“Th-That’s… ngh… not…”

“Actions will convince you faster than words.”

His eyes crinkled, a smirk cutting through the tension. It wasn’t a graceful smile—there was something almost pained about it—yet it struck her as artful anyway.

God, he’s unfairly beautiful.

Is this what they mean by “stealing your soul with looks”?

If he’d been born in an era of war, he’d have toppled nations without lifting a finger.

Dazed by his assault of beauty, Jaha barely registered him pulling his hips back—just enough for his c**k to slide shallowly out before pushing in again. A gentle, testing motion.

“Ah— ngh, haah…”

As he gradually widened his thrusts, the frequency of Jaha’s sweet moans increased. Each time her inner walls rubbed against his thick shaft and the prominent tip grazed a sensitive spot, waves of peculiar pleasure spread through her. Her toes curled and her b******s clenched involuntarily.

What had started as careful, shallow strokes soon turned into deep, purposeful thrusts—pound, pound—as he penetrated her secret depths. After testing the path with a few experimental thrusts to ensure she was fully open, he flashed a rough smile, confirming she could take him without resistance. Then he began increasing both speed and depth.