The Dialectic of Master and Slave - Chapter 20

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.

Once again, the thick, rigid shaft struck deep inside her. As the prominent veins scraped relentlessly against her sensitive spot, an overwhelming shudder ran through her entire body, leaving her breathless.

Jaha’s head fell back as she trembled, unable to speak. The shaft pressed heavily against that spot again, grinding against it as it pulled out. Then, from somewhere she couldn’t pinpoint, a sensation like a dam breaking overwhelmed her, and her rationality crumbled.

“Mmm, ah, uh, haaah!”

The shaft, which had been halfway out, thrust back in with force. A splashing sound accompanied the clear fluid that gushed from her lower half.

The Emperor was engulfed in a wave of satisfaction rising from the depths of his stomach. The lewd sounds, the tightness that perfectly matched his preferences—there wasn’t a single thing he didn’t like. But what unexpectedly excited him the most was the slave’s moans. Hearing her cry out like a cat in heat, as if she couldn’t hold back any longer, sent a rush of heat through his entire body, as if someone had set him on fire.

Instead of crudely ordering her to make more noise, the Emperor thrust his hips upward with force. What he wanted to hear wasn’t some fabricated moan—it was the sound of her breaking down, unable to hold back any longer, her voice spilling out in a trembling mess. That was what he desired.

He gripped her legs tightly, ensuring she couldn’t escape, and drove his member into her most sensitive spot with almost brutal force. The walls gripping him trembled and convulsed, releasing a steady stream of sweet fluid.

“Ahh, ah! Haaah!”

The liquid gushing from her secret depths had already soaked the area where they were joined, dripping down her perineum and pooling at the base of her spine.

Having perfectly figured out what Jaha liked most, the Emperor skillfully stimulated her erogenous zones with practiced movements of his hips, admiring the obscene sight he had created. Each time he thrust in, her lower half welcomed him with a squelching sound, spurting out more fluid, and it filled him with an almost maddening satisfaction.

As he casually caressed the bulge in her stomach caused by his member, he rubbed the spot she felt most intensely—about two finger-widths away from where his tip was buried—with his shaft.

The way the bulging veins scraped against that spot seemed to please her, as her dry body trembled violently, and another burst of fluid gushed out from between her legs. The Emperor laughed as he felt the depth with his fingers against her stomach, confirming its location.

“If it’s this deep inside, most people wouldn’t even be able to reach it.”

She would never be satisfied with an ordinary object. Not that it mattered, since she would never spread her legs for another man anyway. Even if he grew tired of her later and his thoughts changed, for now, he wanted to be the only one to taste her.

As he continued to thrust in and out, the Emperor idly rubbed the outline of his member visible through her flat stomach. Gradually, a pattern began to emerge on Jaha’s lower abdomen. The geometric design transformed into something resembling a blooming flower before settling into its final form just below her navel.

It was a permanent contraceptive seal. He figured it would be better to engrave it once rather than casting a temporary spell every time they were together.

Now, no matter how much of his seed she took, this slave would never conceive. Not unless he removed the magic himself.

While it was a convenient form of contraception, its lewd placement and appearance made it rarely used among noblewomen. Realistically, it was only in demand for prostitutes or s*x slaves. After all, anyone with such a mark on their lower abdomen would naturally be assumed to fall into one of those two categories. However, the humiliation and suffering Jaha might endure because of the seal were of no concern to the Emperor. In fact, the sight of the intricate pattern in such an obscene location only fueled his arousal further.

As he thrust his shaft repeatedly into her slick entrance, the Emperor traced the design he had created. Running his thumb over the blooming petals, he thought it would be amusing if simply touching this spot could make the slave go into heat and drip with desire. It would be convenient, too, eliminating the need for any other process. With magic and d***s, even areas not naturally erogenous could be made sensitive.

In a conventional relationship, he might have taken the time to lick and suck her from head to toe, bringing her to a fever pitch. But he had no desire to put that much effort into a mere slave. He’d rather spend that time reviewing another document or taking a break.

He was someone who suppressed even his own s****l desires until their limit to avoid wasting time. Even when relieving himself, he only emptied just enough to not interfere with daily life, nothing more. Being so ruthless even to himself, there was no way he’d waste unnecessary time on a mere slave.

To the Emperor, Jaha’s existence was nothing more and nothing less than a m**********n tool. As Emperor, he couldn’t disgracefully resolve things alone by hand, so he needed a tool – and she happened to be a nearby c**k sleeve that squeezed quite satisfactorily.