The Dialectic of Master and Slave - Chapter 253

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.

The breath tickling her skin was hot and damp. The cheek pressed against her shoulder was scorching. He seemed to be suffering from an uncontrollable heat.

Jaha felt a fleeting, universal sympathy for him on a humanitarian level—but it lasted only a moment. Something black and sticky, like tar, oozed from her heart and spread unpleasantly throughout her body.

You didn’t stop when you thought I might die.

You tore me apart, body and mind, and kept hurting me until I finally lost consciousness.

“Jaha, please.”

Don’t you dare sound so weak.

You’re not broken enough to be a wreck yet.

Suddenly, Jaha wanted to peel this unbearably repulsive creature off her body. She tried to push herself up, bracing her hands against the dining table—only to have one of them stabbed by something sharp.

She let out an involuntary gasp. The large figure that had been clinging to her, writhing and thrusting, froze as if it were a lie. He reacted faster than Jaha herself, grabbing her injured hand to inspect it—his reflexes more like a wild beast’s than a human’s.

Only then did Jaha realize her finger had been slightly cut by a dining knife.

Damn it. Of all the places to put my hand…

As she grumbled internally in irritation, her body suddenly lifted into the air—he had picked her up.

When Jaha shot him a look that said, What the hell are you doing?, he fidgeted nervously and spoke.

“The doctor will be here soon. For now, go lie down in your room and rest.”

His hurried strides left Jaha genuinely baffled. He’s just going to end it like this? The same man who was groaning in frustration just moments ago, unable to satisfy his desires? All because I got a tiny cut from a knife?

Sure, there was a little blood, but it was barely a paper cut. It hurt, but if this caused any real problems, she’d eat her own hand.

‘Does this man think I’m Rilke, the poet who died from a rose thorn?’

For the record, Rainer Maria Rilke actually died of leukemia, not tetanus. So there’s no reason for this kind of reaction—yet his face has gone completely pale…

Jaha quietly stared up at him. The thick, black liquid that had been corroding her entire body, rising up to her throat and suffocating her, slowly began to recede.

Then, she caught sight of the absurd spectacle of servants scrambling away in shock upon seeing him wandering around half-naked, wearing nothing but a chastity belt. A laugh burst from her lips, and suddenly, none of it mattered anymore.

As he carefully laid Jaha down on the bed and turned to leave to call the doctor—

“Stop. It’s nothing serious.”

“Still…”

“I told you, I’m fine. And just how long do you plan to wander around the mansion like that?”

Only then did he seem to realize he wasn’t wearing any clothes, freezing mid-step. Jaha idly stroked the still-e***t black serpent in her palm, its stiffness unyielding.

“You strut around with your c**k swinging like this, shamelessly parading from the dining room all the way here. Do you get off on being seen? Imagining yourself f*****g the servants, or maybe getting f****d in the a*s by them?”

His blue eyes darkened at her taunts.

“You know I don’t want anyone but you.”

Jaha searched his face for even a hint of humiliation, but all she found was anger—anger at having his feelings denied. The sheer absurdity of her accusation disgusted him.

With a sigh, she tugged his arm. She hadn’t even pulled hard, yet she let herself be dragged onto the bed without resistance.

Her hand slid between his legs, gripping the chastity belt as she uttered the release command.

Click.

The sound of the restraint spell breaking. The black serpent coiled around his c**k fell away.

Bliss flooded his expression. The beast, recognizing tacit permission, lunged with a changed gaze.

Thud.

His thick shaft plunged in deep, spreading her wide in a single thrust.

Jaha shuddered from penetration alone.

Grabbing her ankles and lifting them into the air, he pinned her thighs apart, then drove his hips down like a hammer—thud, thud—pounding into her weak spots with brutal force. Yet despite the violence, her lower half only grew wetter, as if welcoming it.

Even after carving a path inside her, stretching her beyond count, her tight walls clung to him relentlessly, pulsing around his c**k as if chewing on it. He gritted his teeth, struggling to hold back.

“You can barely take my c**k—how the hell were you planning to fit a chastity belt in there?”