The lower half of his body, completely undone and pliant, welcomed the intruder with delight.
Ash only belatedly realized that his mouth was open, moaning.
“Ah… Ahhh…”
A moan close to a sob spilled out stupidly.
Ash wanted to close his mouth, but his master’s movements were faster.
He lifted Ash’s hips.
Thud.
The moment the thrusting cock struck his deepest point, Ash’s vision flashed white.
Ash swayed slowly, his mind utterly gone.
His master moved his hips in the same rhythm before slamming into him again with another thud.
“Ah—!”
The pleasure he’d held back for so long, hardened like wax, shattered under the relentless thrusts.
It broke apart, turning Ash’s vision white before melting away.
His lower half felt drenched in honey, eagerly pulling in the invading cock without resistance—as if he’d become a viscous well himself.
“Nngh… Feels good…”
A wet sound came from Ash’s hole.
The creaking noise, like a cheap mattress squeaking, echoed in his head.
Ash fumbled with his hands, gripping the sheets, trying to endure the overwhelming pleasure.
“My disciple…”
“Nnn…?”
His master pried Ash’s fingers away one by one, then interlaced their hands together.
Both of Ash’s hands were pinned above his head, pressed down by reptilian-cool palms.
‘Cold.’
Or was it just that he was too hot?
Ash felt like his head was melting.
He wanted to cling to something, but the only thing left to hold onto was his master.
“You make such a tortured face when you feel good.”
“Ah! Aah! Ngh— Hah…!”
His master’s body filled the space between his legs completely, pressing down with his full weight.
Ash’s thighs were spread as wide as they could go, forced to take every thrust.
His toes curled.
He wanted to grab onto something, but what he held just moved on its own.
His hands flailed in the air before brushing against something rough.
A click sounded from his trapped fingers.
Ash couldn’t tell what he’d touched.
His eyes were open, but he saw nothing.
He could only cling to the untrustworthy presence—begging him not to disappear.
Everything melted under the blinding pleasure.
Ash’s face was a mess of tears.
Just a little more.
But then, the man driving into him suddenly stopped.
“Hah?!”
Ash nearly resented him.
He’d been so close—why now?
His lower half twitched on its own, greedily trying to suck the other back in.
Ash had no shame left.
He just wanted his master to lose control just as much—to be just as desperate, to push him over the edge, to free him—
“Hngk— Sobb— Why…! Hic?!”
Ash gasped as his oversensitive cock was seized in his master’s hand.
Gripped tightly, as if to crush it, held firmly from the base.
The man played with Ash’s glans, smearing the precum before suddenly digging in with his nails.
Ash shuddered violently—how could he endure such torture on his most tender spot?
With his free hand, Ash clawed at his master’s wrist.
“Ah! Don’t— Don’t, stop— It hurts, ah…!”
“How cute.”
A voice full of laughter, laced with something like affection.
Ash loved that—the way his master wanted him, the way he acted so possessive.
He craved someone who clung to him, who needed him.
If someone like that existed, he could feel at ease.
Like everything would be okay.
So even in agony, Ash couldn’t scream anymore.
If he had just said “No” one more time—he wouldn’t have known the knight beside him would’ve stopped at once.
“You’re truly adorable. I’d never find anything as entertaining as you anywhere.”
“It hurts— It hurts…!”
“Good boy. Yes, I know. You’re squeezing me so tight—I can’t pull out. Ah…”
His master buried himself deeper inside Ash.
Clinging to the man embracing him, Ash felt his inner walls being ravaged.
The cock pushed into the deepest possible place, splitting him open—hot, overwhelming—before the man spilled his release inside.
***
Ash’s whole body tingled with pleasure.
At the same time, he was freed—his tightly gripped base finally relented, color returning.
Ash came without a sound.
Splat.
Splat.
Cum splattered, even landing a drop on his face.
Ash’s mind went blank.
Drenched in sweat, his body sticky, tears (or sweat, or cum—he couldn’t tell) streaking down his cheeks.
His heart raced violently, his chest heaving as if he’d run a marathon.
“Hah…”
Ash exhaled shakily.
Slowly, the numbness in his limbs began to fade.
He blinked slowly.
The world spun once… then settled back into place. His master’s face came into focus.
The man wore his usual lazy smile—but rather than sleepy, he looked like a predator after a satisfying meal.
He licked between his fingers.
‘What… is that?’
Ash ran a hand through his tangled hair and stared.
On closer inspection, it was a pale, viscous liquid— his semen.
He closed his eyes.
“Master…”
His throat was hoarse from moaning.
Ash cleared it lightly, fingers brushing his neck as his master replied tenderly:
“Yes, I’m listening.”
How could someone so composed on the outside…
“Find this amusing?”
Ash knew his master’s daily routine well.
The man was as unchanging as a mountain.
No matter when Ash visited the workshop, his master would be deep in research.
With magic now eliminating the need for sleep or food, that routine was even more unshakable.
A life consumed by research—
Ash couldn’t fathom it.
Did his master truly find joy in such an existence?
To Ash, it didn’t seem so… and apparently, his guess had been right.
“You should… find hobbies beyond me.”
If watching his disciple suffer was the master’s idea of entertainment, then the man was beyond saving.
“Ah. So this is a hobby.”
The master’s voice brightened with realization.
Ash wished he’d focus on the sentence, not just the word.
“‘Hobby,’ you say? I never understood the term… but now I see.”
“It’s useless… but pleasant. Something you’d miss if it were gone. That’s what you call it, isn’t it?”
The master laughed.
The back of his hand grazed Ash’s cheek, swiping away something—then lifting it to his own lips.
Ash refused to watch.
“Then you’re my only hobby.”
“I said expand your interests. Don’t just admit it…”
Ash’s mutter was weak.
He lacked the energy to argue.
Being called someone’s “only” anything brought him no joy.
His eyelids weighed a thousand pounds.
Fighting the exhaustion, Ash finally let them fall—only for the master’s hand to cup his face again.
Fingers pinched his cheek like he was a plush toy.
Annoyed, Ash furrowed his brow, and the touch migrated to his forehead.
The master brushed aside sweat-damp bangs.
Magic thrummed in the narrow space between them, an alien energy washing over Ash.
Even through his haze, he felt the stickiness of his body dissolve, replaced by a cleanness like stepping out of a scalding bath into fresh linen.
The sheets beneath him seemed to shed their grime on their own.
A pillow nudged beneath his head—one that hadn’t been there moments ago.
“I’ll take care of him.”
Tyllian’s low voice cut in.
“Oh? Will you now?”
Calloused hands lifted Ash’s head onto the pillow.
He groaned, burying his face into it.
Feels good…
His consciousness frayed.
The only tether to reality was a vague tension—the sense he’d forgotten something.
But his mind refused to turn.
No thoughts surfaced.
“I adore you too, Tyllian. Watching you both brings me joy. Who knew you’d grow up to be so lovely? As you’re aware… I’ve always had a weakness for cute things.”
“Your opinion of me means nothing. And you seem to misunderstand—Ash isn’t that helpless child who clung to you anymore.”
“Is that so? The essence of him feels unchanged…”
“Do you truly see Ash as your disciple?”
Tyllian’s sudden question carried restrained fury.
“Of course.”
The master answered breezily, oblivious.
“You shouldn’t.”
Tyllian’s voice turned dangerous.
“I don’t believe your ‘affection’ for Ash is genuine.”
“Genuine affection?”
The master laughed—a rare, crystalline sound.
To Ash, it seemed distant.
“I swear, nothing in this world is more real to me.”
Why are they fighting?
Ash didn’t understand what “real” meant.
But if anyone in this world truly cared for him, it was these two.
Nothing else mattered.
That was his final thought before darkness took him.
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