Chapter 131(NSFW)

“W-Wait, ngh, Haban…!”

“Ah, ah! Ah!”

His whole body trembled violently. The rough, deep thrusts he received as he climaxed were unlike anything before.

It stung so sharply, as if electricity were coursing through his entire body, to the point where it almost felt painful—his fingertips and toes tingled, and his ears rang. All Dori could do was gasp for breath.

‘…It’s too much.’

It was like someone was flicking the lights on and off in his vision. After it happened several times, he almost wished he could just lose consciousness.

“Hhht!”

“Don’t you dare fall asleep.”

Haban’s low warning came by his ear.

His breath, heated with excitement, was scorching. Dori quickly reached to the spot that had stung earlier and felt the round shape of a bite mark. It hadn’t been a hard bite, but perhaps because his skin was soft, each one was raised and distinct.

“I-I wasn’t asleep, ngh!”

“That’s right. But you came all by yourself again, didn’t you? Now it’s your turn to match me. Huu… That’s only fair, isn’t it?”

Just as he said that, Haban thrust up hard from below, and Dori’s pink shaft leaked the remaining seed in little spurts.

When he was about to climax again, Haban pressed the tip of his penis hard against a spot deep inside, stimulating it. As a result, Dori’s shaft hadn’t gone completely soft—it was still half-erect.

Squelch. Thud!

The thick shaft rammed in forcefully. It was a borderline overwhelming penetration, but the honey that coated every inch from entrance to deepest inside made the movement smooth.

They had poured in enough from an entire gourd jar, and even after more than enough had been applied, the sticky honey had thinned to a watery texture. It now seeped out, pushed by the driving force.

Dori’s soft, peach-like buttocks tensed.

T-this is weird!

The less viscous honey trickled down the cleft of his ass and dripped onto the blanket. Since Haban was holding his hips slightly lifted, the sensation was all the more vivid. Dori squirmed in alarm at the feeling of it leaking from behind.

Then, as if spurred on by that movement, Haban paused for a moment, his face tightening.

Haa, haa.

While Dori was gasping for air—

“Uhh, uhhngh, hhhn!”

It felt like the shaft filling him to the brim was slowly withdrawing. Without realizing it, he tightened his thighs.

Before he could even feel the emptiness from losing what had filled his belly, Haban plunged back in with one thrust. His inner walls, scraped by the now even more sensitive mucosa from his earlier climax, clenched the shaft without a gap.

“Ugh.”

Letting out a short groan, Haban began pounding the long, thick shaft in—thump, thump—slamming in with his full weight. The hardened tip scraped along the inner walls with a rough drdrdrk as it drove into the deepest point.

“Too fast…! Wa-wait, hhkk, ngh, chi-, hahng! Your hand, move your hand…!”

Haban placed his palm over Dori’s lower belly, which bulged slightly each time the shaft inside pressed against it. When he pressed down lightly, it felt like the tip inside was touching his palm.

As the pressure increased, Dori’s face drained of color and he clung to Haban’s wrist, climaxing again—but it was no use. Instead, Haban pried Dori’s fingers open one by one, interlaced their hands, and began moving even more violently. Dori was so overwhelmed, he feared his body might burst apart.

Haban was ruthlessly drilling into him, burying himself in the narrow, deep place.

“Hhhngh, hhkk…”

Dori let out a sound that was more like a sob.

“Ugh.”

Then, as if it couldn’t get any larger, the penis swelled and finally convulsed, spilling its seed.

At some point, Dori’s shaft had released another load without him even realizing it, and fresh seed was flowing again.

Haban, rubbing his fluids into the convulsing inside, slowly drew back. At that moment, a small, undeniable sob reached his ears.

“My… why are you crying?”

Haban’s voice carried a hint of surprise.

At some point, Dori’s entire face had been streaked with tears. Haban hurriedly brushed his eyes and wiped his cheeks with a soft cloth, but Dori trembled and tried to pull away. His touch became gentler.

‘T-this… split personality!’

Dori exhaled sharply through his nose.

Honestly—most of the time he was unnecessarily kind, but when they were intimate, it was like he turned into another person entirely.

Because they didn’t have perfumed oil, Haban had put his mouth directly on him below, inserting his tongue and licking and sucking until Dori almost fainted from shock. He had explored every embarrassing place—from between his toes to under his arms.

Sometimes, he would even make Dori climax inside his mouth, then spit it out, and use it instead of oil, pushing it back into him. The feeling of Haban’s shaft moving in and out of an inside smeared with Dori’s own seed was indescribable. At those times, Haban seemed to get even more aroused, pounding in with his long, thick shaft before climaxing in long spurts.

If Dori covered his face in embarrassment, Haban would mix their fluids together and make him remove his hands just to show him the texture—then even push it back inside, saying it was sticky and inseparable, just like the two of them.

Thinking about all the things Haban had done to him in the past made a lump of pent-up resentment well up inside, and tears began streaming again.

“You’ll collapse at this rate. Enough now.”

Though he said it a bit teasingly, the truth was Haban wanted to claim every last drop that came from Dori’s body. Still, he looked down at Dori’s trembling shoulders with some dismay.

If he left him like this, the fox might slip away somewhere again. So, Haban wrapped Dori up in the blanket and sat him on his lap.

Dori immediately burrowed down until even his head was hidden, sniffing softly.

Unlike the palace, the secluded house’s bath didn’t have a facility to supply hot water instantly. Buckets of boiling water from the cauldron were poured into the bath without pause.

After filling the large tub to the brim and sending the others away, Haban unwrapped the blanket, lifted Dori into his arms, and headed for the bath.

“I said I’d bathe alone.”

Perched on Haban’s thigh in the tub, Dori grumbled with a nasal voice.

“What if you slip? You can’t even stand on your own right now.”

After resisting for a while, once Haban started pouring water over his shoulders, Dori became quiet. When asked for his hand, he gave it; when told to tilt his head, he did so. The only thing that remained sharp was the angle of his eyes.

Once Haban had washed him clean, dried him, and wrapped him in soft silk before setting him on the bed, he went to bathe himself. But when he returned, the blanket on the bed was noticeably bulging. Inside, Dori had curled himself up tightly.

He must have heard the door, but he didn’t move. At least he hadn’t turned into a fox—that was a relief—but Haban worried he might have muscle cramps the next day after all that effort to bathe him in hot water early.

Still, he had left one side of the bed open. Smiling quietly, Haban climbed onto the bed.

“Dori.”

When he gently stroked the blanket, round like the back of a curled fox, he felt the body inside flinch.

“Are you still angry?”

“Are you making fun of me right now?”

Suddenly, Dori threw off the blanket and sat up. His cheeks, soft and flushed from the bath, glowed faintly pink, his whole face warm from the overstimulation earlier.

‘Am I angry?’

Of course! Did he know how exhausting it was to be drained like that? But the moment he saw Haban’s languid expression, like a well-fed beast, the sulkiness melted away.

Sensing it, Haban lay on his side and pulled Dori toward him.

“I’ll listen to everything else tomorrow. For now, we should sleep.”

Dori puffed his cheeks and narrowed his eyes to slits before lying down, as if reluctantly conceding.

He wasn’t completely over it, but there was a reason he allowed himself to relax. Still, some annoyance lingered, so he deliberately tried to scoot toward the wall—only for Haban to pull him snugly against his side.

“Let’s sleep now.”

When the light went out, darkness filled even the ceiling. Dori blinked quietly.

‘…Is Haban still avoiding asking me about it?’

Well, it was true that, having been suddenly abducted, he didn’t have much to say himself. But Haban seemed to think that returning safely was enough, and Dori didn’t quite understand that.

‘Could that really be it?’

No, it was obvious it wasn’t.

The proof was in what happened every night.

“Ugh…”

Having turned into a fox and curled up in Haban’s arms, Dori stirred slightly at a muffled groan. But he kept his eyes closed, pretending to be asleep, while quietly listening.

“Haah!”

At some point, the struggling Haban let out a breath, then reached out beside him as if to confirm something.

His fingers caught in the soft fur, his palm pressing against the slow rise and fall of a small back. Only then did his ragged breathing calm, his tension easing.

‘Again…’

Since coming here, Haban had nightmares every night.

He had woken several times, calling out for Dori not to go. Dori didn’t know exactly what kind of dreams they were, but it seemed Haban didn’t want him to know, so he only let his lashes tremble faintly in the dark.

“…You’re sleeping well.”

Haban stroked the fox’s back with great care. He worried that any sign of movement might wake the sensitive Dori, but right now he needed the comfort of that warmth.

You’re alive.

Not stained red with blood, but in your pure, white form, right before my eyes.

Haban pulled the fox closer, trapping him in his embrace. Fur brushed his cheek and lips. Even when the ears flicked in irritation mid-sleep, Haban was glad—it was proof Dori was still alive.

Sometimes it was this life’s Dori in his dreams, sometimes the Dori from the past, without any order.

One night, a white fox was locked in an iron cage, starving; the next, a human Dori with a collar sat curled up inside. On the day of the banquet, Dori had vanished like smoke, and another night, he was crouched down, his ankle broken by Haban’s own hands.

Waking drenched in cold sweat, unable to tell dream from reality, Haban had more than once feared he truly had kept Dori from escaping and kidnapped him.

I will never repeat the past.

He knew the dreams were only illusions, remnants of the past, yet ever since the day Dori disappeared, Haban had been plagued by constant anxiety.

‘Have good dreams.’

Unlike me, may you have only happy memories.

Burying his face in the soft fur, Haban pressed several kisses there.

After a long while, when Haban had fallen asleep again, the white fox flattened his body low and crawled out on all fours, whining softly.

‘…Why, I wonder.’

Haban must have circumstances he can’t tell me about, too.

Licking Haban’s sleeping, tense face loosened it slightly.

Sniff.

In case Haban woke again and reached for him immediately, Dori pressed close under his arm, rested his chin on Haban’s shoulder, and closed his eyes once more.