Transmigrated As The Perverted Young Master



She gasped, feeling his fingers touch her. She squeezed her thighs shut, stopping him. "It's none of your business."

He chuckled, "Wild as always, are we? For a slut, you've still a little dignity, you know that? Applause to you, curator." He subtly gave a nod to Lucy, making her turn her face away. "I'm not a slut! And I don't appreciate you calling me that!" She yelled, but her voice was shaky.

"My apologies," he said, smiling. "But what happened here?" He repeated, now gently rubbing Lucy's pussy.

Lucy's body shuddered from his touch. She couldn't believe what was happening right now, how his touch could make her react like this. "Stop it! I don't permit you to touch me!" She said, pushing him away. Her face was of anger and shame.

"Oh? Didn't think you were only into girls. Your performance that day was that much astounding for a...virgin," he chuckled, his white hair locks falling to his crimson eyes.

Lucy hated this man. His handsome face and the mystery he hides. It was the same at the Ferel Duchy, she was sure there was something he was hiding behind his innocent face but she got orders to wrap up the investigation even before she had a chance to make him talk.

And here is he now, looking down on her and her vulgar body. "I don't know what Viper told you, but I didn't enjoy your little game."

He ignored her, looking at her pussy again. "Is that so? I didn't even have any count on how many times you came before losing your consciousness, curator."

Lucy froze. "I-I..."

"Don't lie," he stood up and leaned on her on the bed, their faces inches away. She didn't resist or push him away, she simply avoided his intense gaze, looking at the ceiling.

"You were in such a state of excitement, you didn't even realize when you passed out. I bet I was going hard on your little cunt, weren't I?"

Lucy felt his breath on her neck, sending shivers down her spine. "N-no." She felt his tongue on her earlobe, "Yes," he whispered, making Lucy shiver again. "It's okay, you can admit it. You enjoyed it. You wanted it to happen. You've always been a slut, haven't you, curator? Always craving for sex. Always looking for a way to satisfy yourself. Am I wrong?"

His fingers gently rubbed her clit, making her bite her lip. She felt her face burning hot, her juices leaking from her pussy, forming a little pool on the sheets.

"Answer me, slut," he commanded, moving his fingers faster.

Lucy gasped, "N-no! I did not en-enjoy it..."

"Did you like how I used your body? How I treated you like a slut?"

Lucy felt him kissing her neck, and she let out a gasp when she felt his teeth sinking into her soft flesh. "N-nmmm..." she said, "yes..."

He stopped, pulling back and looking at Lucy. He smiled, "I knew you were a slut all along."

Lucy was panting, her whole body covered in sweat. Her heart was beating like crazy, her face red with embarrassment and her pussy dripping wet.I think you should take a look at

She looked at him, but immediately regretted it. She felt herself getting more aroused as she looked at his handsome face. "N-no...I'm not."

"Do you like how I called you a slut? You enjoyed that, didn't you? Did you enjoy the feeling of being a slut for me? A little whore for me to use how I wanted? That's what you are, isn't it?

"Sto-stop it," she said, her eyes tearing up from the pleasure.

"Should I?" he stopped rubbing her and looked straight at her. "Just say the word and I will never, ever touch you again. Do you want that?"

Lucy stared at him, trying to think about what to do. She wanted him to stop touching her, she didn't like it when he touched her, but at the same time, she enjoyed it. It was more like, she enjoyed it. She enjoyed being a slut to this man but deep down that shame and dignity, she was preventing her from saying yes right away. But she was sure with a little more push she would say yes.

"Y-yes," she whispered.

"What was that?" He leaned forward, his face inches away from hers.

"Yes!" She cried, tears streaming down her cheeks, "I don't like it when you touch me! I don't like it when you use me like a whore! I want you to stop touching me! I want you to stop calling me a whore!"

"Alright, as you wish, my lady." He said, his face was solemn. "I won't touch you again. I won't call you a whore again. And I will steer away from you, happy?"

'No. No. Push me more,' she wanted to say those words. She could feel he was punishing her and she could see the future of this playing out. But she can't say anything, she can't admit she liked this. She couldn't.

She didn't have a choice but to nod in response. He smiled and got up. "Alright, I guess this is goodbye."

All of a sudden, a blaring alarm filled the arena, its deafening sound reverberating through the air. The crowd erupted in panic and confusion, scrambling to find an explanation for the sudden chaos. Damien's eyes widened, scanning the surroundings in alarm.

"What the fuck is that?" he exclaimed, his voice barely audible over the blaring alarm.

Lucy, still clutching the towel to her chest, rushed to his side, her voice filled with urgency. "It's an emergency alarm system!" she shouted. "The city is under attack. We're in danger!"

Damien's mind raced, trying to process the gravity of the situation. "Why would anyone attack the capital?" he exclaimed, his voice tinged with disbelief. "It's a heavily guarded place with thousands of soldiers patrolling the city!"

Lucy's expression darkened, a flicker of realization crossing her face. "I don't know who would dare to do something like this. Or..." She hesitated, her eyes meeting Damien's.

"Midnight Consortium!" Damien exclaimed, his voice filled with a mix of anger and concern.