"..."
Why was it always like this?
Why was it that she was the one who underwent the training and suffered the violations, yet the burden of shame always fell solely on her shoulders? Eleonora, sprawled atop her "bed" (which was in reality just a pile of straw), exhaled a ragged breath and whispered through flushed cheeks.
"...I almost passed out again."
She felt as if her very bones had melted. After being ravaged by that wicked man's touch—his monstrous member treating a woman's womb like its personal lavatory—she had received so much internal discharge that she genuinely feared she might have conceived today.
The fact that he had repeatedly urinated inside her during the process was one thing, but that wasn't the core of the problem.
"He is clearly insane... to do such heinous things...!"
Even if she had been trained by his hand, the act of a man urinating inside a woman's vagina was something that should naturally provoke a physiological revulsion in any woman, regardless of whether they shared mutual feelings. It was a basic biological boundary.
But what about her? Every time he said he was going to piss in her pussy, far from resisting or telling him to stop, she had offered a lewd smile as if giving her consent. To make matters worse, she had actively welcomed the act by tangling her tongue with his.
"It couldn't have been a dream... because I stayed conscious. I vowed that I wouldn't lose to him this time, that I wouldn't faint no matter what..."
Since her climax from the internal urination had occurred barely thirty minutes ago, there was no room for memory distortion.
"Huu..."
The moment she subconsciously admitted that the sex with him had been pleasurable, a wave of exhaustion crashed over her. It was unlikely that a Grand Master's body would be physically spent from a few bouts of intercourse, but today had been mentally grueling.
Leaving the pen, going outside the farrowing house, being left blindfolded and naked in the open, nearly being violated by Goblins, and after that...
"..."
Eleonora rolled over to face the ceiling, propped herself up slightly on her elbows, and looked down at her own body.
Her breasts, too large to be held in a single hand, rose and fell in rhythm with her heavy breathing. She stared at the two pink "fruits" atop those mounds, which were bobbing steadily like the sun that had just dipped below the western horizon.
"Is it really... that good...?"
She couldn't tell exactly how much abuse they had taken throughout the day, but her breasts were now a "field of flowers"—covered in red and purple marks that served as a vivid map of his lust. Her nipples, swollen and stiff, showed no signs of subsiding.
"To knead them as if trying to burst them, to twist the nipples so ruthlessly..."
Even though she had begged him to stop, those rough, calloused hands had squeezed her mercilessly, and his greedy mouth and teeth had bitten her until she was a mess. It was the inevitable result.
"He can't even fit them in one hand, yet he's so greedy..."
At one point, frustrated that he couldn't grip a whole breast, he had used both hands to pull and tear at them. The sight of him, acting like a petulant child who couldn't get his way, had actually made her burst into a small laugh. Of course, she was looking at the price of that laughter now.
She lowered her gaze further to inspect the area that had been even more overworked than her chest: her groin. The moment her eyes landed there, Eleonora knit her brows and groaned.
"He pounded me like a dog. Does he truly intend to turn my pussy into a gaping hole?!"
It was a disaster. Her platinum-blonde pubic hair, usually as lustrous as the hair on her head, was matted with dried semen like frost on winter branches. Her pussy was still sluggishly oozing a mixture of urine and semen; she felt she should be grateful it hadn't literally torn open.
"What if it really stops closing properly...!"
Where was her once-chaste, tightly-shut pussy? In its place was the pussy of a lewd sow, puckering and gasping as if searching for a male member.
'Eight internal ejaculations... and he urinated in me twice more after that...'
Near the end, he had even brought a water bottle and chugged it right in front of her on purpose. At the time, her tongue was heavy from the endless hell of climaxes, leaving her unable to protest properly, but she vowed—over and over—that she would stop him next time.
Whether she could actually keep that vow was another matter. Regardless, as if to punish the "naughty pussy" that had moaned for such a man, Eleonora glared at her own anatomy. Then, her face flushed as she looked down at her palms.
"What was I thinking... Why would I waste such a golden opportunity on that...!"
A rare chance to extract useful information about escaping this place, and the only thing she had managed to say was "Pat my pussy"!
No wonder he was so confident in his mockery. How much must he have laughed at her internally while she was pretending to be stoic? Since she was the one who provided the cause, she couldn't even vent her anger; she could only shiver and rub her face with her hands. She slowly pulled her hands away and looked at her palms again.
"But... it felt good. The patting..."
That soft touch, filled with a strange sort of apology for leaving her exposed and a hint of affection for his "beast." Just the contact had seemed to dissolve the knots in her heart. Even now, simply imagining the sensation made her smile. It was hard to believe those were the same "demon hands" that usually trained and violated her so ruthlessly.
"The way he playfully slapped the mound, the way he pressed down as if prying me open... those were good, but after all..."
The best part had been when he simply covered her entire pussy with his large palm.
"Hehe... does he really like my pussy that much? Does he want to possess this Eleonora that badly? How despicable, how vile...!"
Despite her harsh words, a silly, dazed smile wouldn't leave her lips. But it was only for a moment. Her eyes sharpened, returning to the cold gaze of a knightess. Her blue eyes locked onto her armor sitting in the corner of the pen.
"This cannot continue. I realized it today. I thought I was resisting his training well, but he has dyed my body in his colors far more than I imagined."
Even now. No matter how good it felt, how could she smile at the touch of the man who humiliated her? The fact that she found it "good" was the problem itself.
His goal was her. To break her completely into a lewd Knight-Sow who lived only to serve him. She was already letting out vulgar moans at his touch as if it were the most natural thing in the world. She reported every climax to him like a dutiful pet and called him "Master" without a second thought.
She realized she was late—dangerously late. Except for her spirit and a few remaining fragments of her identity, everything was already surrendering to the pleasure he provided.
"Hii-it... the semen is leaking...♥"
Look at her. She was just crawling toward her armor, yet she almost climaxed just from the feeling of semen trickling down her thigh. And her voice? It was now the sweet, syrupy voice of a female in heat. Normally, she would have bitten her lip until it bled out of self-loathing, but the reality was she was writhing and licking her lips like a dog. She was a sow on the verge of total corruption.
"..."
Struggling to reach her gear, Eleonora stood up and began to pull on her black leggings. Semen continued to leak between her legs, but she ignored it, forcing the leggings on and then donning the sports bra that seemed to scream under the pressure of her massive breasts. She sat down and began to strap on her armor.
But as she tried to fasten the buckles, she froze and whispered:
"It itches... unbearably!"
The moment the fabric and metal touched her skin, a wave of intense revulsion washed over her. It felt like oil trying to mix with water. Every time she reached for a buckle, the thought "I want to take this off" screamed in her mind.
"Why now... why of all times...!"
There had been stings and itches before when wearing the armor, but never this level of pure disgust. She had felt a few odd sensations recently, but she had never wanted to cast it aside. She had spent her life viewing this armor as her pride; this was unthinkable.
She wanted to blame Shin Seon-dong for playing another trick on her, but the timing was too perfect. A comment he had tossed out casually while "examining" her recently flashed through her mind.
—"Maybe your body is having a rejection' reaction because you actually hate wearing clothes?"
"Ah..."
At the time, she had growled at him to never speak such nonsense again. After all, the implication was that she, Eleonora, was pretending to be sick just so she could be stripped—that she wanted to show her skin to someone.
To admit he was right was to admit that she wanted to cast off this armor—the symbol of her honor—just so she could expose her breasts and pussy and climax under his gaze. It was admitting she was a slut. She didn't want to accept that she had such a fetish.
But today... today of all days. After being completely naked in the sun, and after having her body seen by someone (even if they weren't human), was it a mere coincidence that she now felt this way about her clothes? Was it a coincidence that the thrill she felt today was the same spark of pleasure she felt when the bandits stared at her naked body that first day?
"In the end, he really intends to take even this from me. Everything... every last bit of my humanity...!"
Unable to endure the sensation any longer, Eleonora hurriedly tore off the armor and clothes. Standing naked once more, she hugged herself and whispered:
"I don't know yet. Whether he played a trick on me... or if I truly, truly don't want to wear clothes...!"
This couldn't go on. She had to do something. But how? She was trapped.
"There might be... a way... I might not be... entirely without options..."
Squelch.
Perhaps the solution was closer than she thought.