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Translated By Arcane Translations
Translator: Mod7
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Beatrice, having pulled up her skirt and exposed her genitals without hesitation, began touching herself, seemingly unaware of shame.
She gently rolled her clit, protruding like a small bean, occasionally pinching it. Then she rubbed the entrance to her vagina, where fluids leaked as if she were urinating.
Of course, as she seemed to think her arousal fluids were urine, she didn’t insert her fingers inside…
“Mnh, ha- this… feels so good, I’ve been doing it every day…! Johan, let’s do it together!”
The innocent, childlike desire to share something pleasurable. Though calling it innocent while she was touching herself with her skirt hiked up might be a stretch, she displayed no trace of embarrassment or shame.
She clearly had no idea that what she was doing was considered shameful. And the reason for this misconception was simple.
‘…Come to think of it—I’ve had sex in front of Beatrice plenty of times.’
On the day I lost my virginity, and even during regular sex at the cabin—she had walked in on us multiple times, much to my embarrassment.
Though I’d laughed it off each time as if it were nothing—perhaps that had given her the wrong impression, leading to this distorted view of sex.
Should I give her proper sex education now? But what if, realizing what she was doing was shameful, she was overcome with mortification?
“Haah- Hah, ha! Mmm… Johaaaan…”
“Uh, yeah.”
“Mm—just, saying your name while I do this feels even better… so I tried it.”
Meanwhile, she continued masturbating. Focused solely on pleasure, her vagina was soaked, as if she’d urinated.
She’d reach climax soon, and interrupting her now to explain what masturbation actually was seemed far too difficult.
‘If only she were younger…’
If she were a kindergartener, I could have stopped her, explained that this wasn’t allowed, and given her proper sex education.
I could have instilled a healthy understanding of sex in Beatrice. But now, seeing a girl who looked to be in middle school masturbating before me, I was caught in an awkward situation where I could neither stop her nor give her a lecture.
“Haah- Ha- Heeek- Mmm…”
While I was agonizing over this, Beatrice finally reached her climax. Biting her lifted dress, she trembled and released her fluids.
It would have been much better if she hadn’t done it on my bed… After her release, Beatrice, panting, snuggled into my arms.
“Johan, Johaaaan…”
“…Yeah.”
“Why aren’t you doing the thing that feels good?”
“Well, that’s…”
“I learned by watching you. Here. Yours is bigger and longer than mine. When you touch it, pee shoots out and it feels good…”
Beatrice said this, touching my crotch. It had become clear that I was the reason she learned to masturbate, and she continued toying with my penis through my clothes.
Her arousal fluids and the sweat from her masturbation wafted toward me. The scent of an aroused female. The kind that drove males wild.
I had just raped Hecaterina, yet faced with a new female, my penis became erect, throbbing against my clothes.
Beatrice, touching my penis through my pants, giggled at the sudden bulge in my lower abdomen.
“It got bigger. Johan, does it feel good?”
“…It does, but.”
“I’ll make it feel even better.”
Ziiiip-.
Beatrice said this and pulled down my pants completely. My penis sprang free, and Beatrice, just as she had with her own vagina, placed her hand on it and began rubbing it haphazardly.
Her fingers brushed against the dry tip, sending shivers of pleasure through me. I moaned involuntarily, and Beatrice, thinking I was in pain, tilted her head and looked up at me.
“…Does it hurt? Johan, doesn’t it feel good?”
“…It does, a little, when you touch it like that.”
“Then how should I touch it to make it feel good?”
“…Like this.”
In the end, my reason failed. I was giving a handjob lesson to a mentally immature young girl who had just finished masturbating.
If this were Earth, I’d be labeled a criminal and thrown in jail. Thinking this, I carefully took her hand and guided it along my penis.
Small, delicate hands. Covered in her arousal fluids, they provided a pleasure beyond a simple handjob.
A woman’s body, from head to toe, was a source of pure pleasure. Her vagina, mouth, hands, breasts—nothing was wasted, everything brought delight.
“Does it feel good, Johan?”
“Yeah. It feels good.”
“Really? Am I doing it well? Do you want me to do it every day?”
“Not every day…”
“Whyyy? I touch myself every day thinking about you. It feels good every time.”
Having just finished masturbating, she was already aroused again, touching herself while talking about my penis. Beatrice began toying with her vagina once more.
She glanced up at me repeatedly, the meaning clear. She wanted me to touch her in return.
I had just finished having sex with a witch, yet I couldn’t refuse this temptation. These young girls shouldn’t be arousing, yet every witch I’d encountered was a stunning beauty, impossible to resist.
Unable to withstand her gaze, I cautiously reached out, and Beatrice, as if anticipating this, shifted her hips and spread her legs, giving me access.
Her vagina was still warm from her recent climax. Hot enough to burn if I inserted my penis.
“Mmm…”
As I gently caressed her, perhaps because she had just climaxed, or perhaps because I was touching her—Beatrice reacted even more intensely than when she was touching herself.
She trembled, her legs and waist shaking, releasing fluids while she continued to fondle my penis.
The sight was incredibly arousing, yet her innocent intent made it all the more stimulating. I felt myself nearing climax.
“Ngh- Beatrice… soon…”
“Mm—Johan… let’s feel good together?”
Beatrice said this, moving her hand faster, and I, in turn, rubbed her vagina more intensely, preparing for our shared release.
And finally—we both reached our peak together.
“I’m, cumming…!”
“Haaaaah—!”
My semen spurted out, staining Beatrice’s dress, while her arousal fluids coated my hand and the sheets.
The clean room filled with the scent of male and female, the pheromones released during mating—we both panted, gazing at each other.
Our eyes met in the air, and we began to giggle.
“Johan, did it feel good?”
“It did.”
“Me too… I’ll do it again anytime, just ask.”
She said this, looking down at her dress. White stains of semen were spreading across the dark red fabric.
If left like this, they’d become permanent…
“I should probably wash this.”
“Mm… too much trouble…”
“But…”
“You don’t want to either, do you? Let’s just sleep.”
“Well, that’s a bit…”
I wasn’t thrilled about the idea of her sleeping while hugging her semen-stained dress, but I had just cum twice, and I couldn’t bring myself to push away Beatrice, who was clinging to me and whining.
Defeated, I closed my eyes.
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Beatrice, nestled in Johan’s arms, carefully opened her eyes. It was the dead of night, and he was sound asleep.
‘Johan…’
Beatrice gazed at the sleeping Johan. His face, lips, nose, eyebrows, his tanned skin, and the way his features came together.
Honestly, he wasn’t conventionally handsome. At best, she could call him manly.
Yet Beatrice, and all the other witches, couldn’t help but love him. He was the only other person who could enter their world.
‘I think I’m sick.’
She thought this, recalling the times Johan interacted with the other witches. Due to her curse, she could only hear half of their conversations.
Seeing Johan sharing secrets with them, secrets she wasn’t privy to, made her uneasy. Her heart pounded, and an unfamiliar churning sensation arose within her.
She hadn’t learned the word for this feeling. Jealousy. Yet she instinctively knew it wasn’t a pleasant emotion.
“Johan.”
She called his name. Of course, there was no answer, yet she acted as if she’d heard one.
Shifting closer, she pressed her lips against his. A clumsy kiss. His slightly rough lips met hers, and her face flushed, her heart pounding.
‘What should I call this?’
Love. An illness she didn’t understand.
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The next morning.
Perhaps due to having climaxed twice, I woke up late. So late that Master, who was usually a light sleeper, came looking for me, her voice laced with annoyance.
“…Johan?”
I cautiously opened my eyes to find Master glaring down at me.
Why? I didn’t need to think long. I glanced at Beatrice, who was lying on top of me. She had fallen asleep without underwear, her dress hiked up, exposing her pale genitals.
“Heeh… looks like you’re finally going for it, huh?”
“No, Master. This is…”
“It’s fine. Mm-hm. Johan, do whatever you want.”
She said this and stomped out of the room, clearly annoyed. I stared after her retreating figure, then sighed and looked at Beatrice, still on top of me.
Thanks to Master’s outburst, she had woken up, rubbing her eyes sleepily.
“Mm—Johan, good morning.”
“…Hey, you.”
“What? Johan, are you upset? Want to do the thing that makes us feel good?”
Looking at her innocent face, completely oblivious, I stared at her, dumbfounded.
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bro is cooked