The Dialectic of Master and Slave - Chapter 77

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.

He took them into his mouth, rolled them between his teeth, then bit down just hard enough not to hurt, savoring the plush, velvety sensation.

He slid his tongue inside, exploring every crevice to savor the taste, but far from feeling satisfied, he only grew more desperate, his body burning.

He abandoned all dignity and clung to it like a beast, ravenous.

Never before had he eaten any food like this. No delicacy, no matter how exquisite, had ever made him lose his senses with such electrifying pleasure. And yet, this wasn’t even delicious—but he couldn’t stop. As if there were a flavor he couldn’t perceive with his tongue but could feel somewhere deeper, the saliva sliding down his throat burned.

Why had he never thought to do this before?

It felt like a waste, all those times he had let her mouth stay idle while thrusting below with his p***s.

He knew this, too, was a splendid g*****l—so why had he never thought to taste it? Every hole should be claimed.

Only now did everything seem to click into place, seamless and complete.

The feeling of something lacking had finally been perfectly filled.

He plundered her mouth without restraint, like a conqueror. Though somewhat rough, his fervent tongue movements overwhelmed even her psychological resistance, drawing out a primal physical reaction from Jaha.

Only after his club-like c**k had buried itself deep inside her, pumping out thick seed until not a drop remained, did the Emperor finally pull his lips away.

Jaha gasped as she stared at him.

She was the one who had been taken unilaterally, yet for some reason, his eyes were wavering. When he regained his composure, he almost seemed flustered.

Is this some kind of victim act now? Jaha watched him blankly before finally turning her gaze away. As she straightened her head—which had been tilted back—a delayed wave of pain surged through her. She was massaging the back of her neck when—

“This Emperor will take care of it.”

Thinking he meant healing her with magic, Jaha quietly lowered her hand. But what approached wasn’t magic—it was the Emperor’s own. His large fingers gripped her tightly, and she flinched.

“Ngh—!”

Upon hearing Jaha’s scream, the Emperor flinched in surprise and pulled his hand away, only to start massaging her again with unbearably light pressure. He probably wouldn’t even hold a hamster this delicately. It was as if he had no idea how to control his strength.

In truth, the Emperor couldn’t gauge how much force to use at all. Like a bear playfully swatting only for the fragile human to drop dead, he had no reference point. This was uncharted territory for him—a realm with no statistical data. In his life, he had never learned how to give a massage, nor had he ever given one to anyone.

Even the first time, he had deliberately softened his touch and rubbed gently, but her obvious pain made him feel like a massive beast faced with a tiny, fragile creature.

“Does it still hurt?”

“No, your highness.”

Jaha successfully swallowed the comment that even a newborn wouldn’t find this painful. The Emperor, his tone slightly eager, asked again.

“Then does it feel refreshing?”

“No, your highness.”

This time, too, Jaha managed to hold back the unnecessary remark telling him to stop wasting effort and just use his damn magic instead.

After that, the Emperor kept adjusting the pressure of his grip, alternating between stronger and lighter, while firing off questions like, “Is this good now?”, “How about this?”, and “Does it feel refreshing yet?” Jaha dutifully answered “no” each time until, at some point, she fell asleep.

When she opened her eyes again, the pain in the back of her neck had completely vanished.

She didn’t know whether the Emperor had finally found the right amount of pressure after his trial-and-error massage, used magic, or if it had simply gotten better on its own with time. Either way, Jaha woke up cradled in the Emperor’s arms. And, as always, the rigid length pressed against her was swollen and menacing.

“You’re awake.”

A drowsy voice drifted down from above her.

The Emperor was like a beast that had waited with bated breath for its prey.

Strangely enough, this shameless creature hadn’t touched her while she was unconscious. He hadn’t forced her awake, either—just waited in silence. But now that Jaha had opened her eyes, he acted immediately, as if demanding compensation for his patience.

“Hngh—!”

The Emperor flipped Jaha onto her stomach and mounted her from above, his hips moving with such force that “pounding” was the only fitting word.

His large, powerful frame covered her completely as he drove into her again and again, ruthlessly burying his length deep inside—wiping away any lingering drowsiness in an instant.

“Ah—! Ngh—!”

“Did you sleep well? You seemed to be dreaming.”