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Translated By Arcane Translations
Translator: Mod7
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Spread legs, insert penis.
Thrust vigorously, ejaculate, and leave.
No aftercare, no consideration for the other person.
For an ordinary woman, this brutal routine would have been deeply traumatizing, but Hecaterina wasn’t particularly affected.
She had been captured by holy knights several times and subjected to torture, so being raped wasn’t a significant issue in comparison.
In fact, she even felt a strange sense of elation when Johan raped her.
‘Does he… like me?’
A delusion only a witch, isolated from human interaction, could entertain. But it was understandable. Even the holy knights who tortured her didn’t see her as a woman.
Not her parents, not the vagrants who ogled her breasts, not even those who claimed to have their emotions suppressed.
She was seen as a being of terror, or some mysterious creature.
“Hng- Ugh, mmn…!”
“Seems like you’re enjoying it.”
“Shut… up… women… can’t help it…! You premature, virgin, rapist!”
Hecaterina bit her lip, trying to suppress her moans of pleasure. It was a futile effort, and Johan, violating her, knew she was enjoying it.
Usually, when he sensed her pleasure, he would withdraw, wait for her arousal to subside, and then resume, or simply thrust quickly, ejaculate, and leave.
But today, for some reason, he didn’t pull out or focus solely on his own pleasure.
Instead, he moved his hips in a way that maximized her pleasure, sharing the sexual excitement.
‘It feels good…’
The moment that thought crossed her mind, Hecaterina was startled. She tightened her legs around Johan’s waist.
I must be crazy. Enjoying this? What kind of woman enjoys being raped…?
But Johan, sensing her reaction, smirked and placed his hand on her breast.
“What… ugh, are you… doing—hurry up… and cum… and get out—”
“Get out? What are you planning to do after I leave?”
“What do you… hng, think… I’m going… to do…!”
“Going to masturbate? While fondling these huge tits?”
Johan said this, kneading her breasts. Her complex. Despite her short stature, her breasts were disproportionately large, drawing unwanted attention.
She hated them, had wished she could remove them…
“Ugh, you like… these lumps of fat… that much-? You perverted bastard… Gah—!”
“…You keep calling me a pervert, but isn’t it more perverted that you’re moaning while being raped?”
“Ha, hng, that’s… just wishful thinking… you loser…!”
Seeing Hecaterina cursing and tightening her vagina around him each time he squeezed her breasts, Johan felt a surge of possessiveness.
He began moving his hips slowly, exploring her body, identifying her weak points.
As expected of a witch unfamiliar with pleasure, she reacted strongly each time he targeted those sensitive spots.
“Mmmmmnh—!”
A long, drawn-out moan, unlike anything he’d heard from her before. Johan realized Hecaterina had climaxed.
They had had sex over a dozen times, but this was the first time she’d reached orgasm.
Of course, Johan had deliberately prevented it before…
“So? Am I the pervert?”
A pervert who climaxes during rape.
A worthless vagina.
A useless female with nothing but big tits.
Johan whispered these insults into Hecaterina’s ear, his voice thick with lust. The kind of voice he could only produce when consumed by desire.
Hecaterina, experiencing such raw lust for the first time, couldn’t process his words. But she understood the emotions he was projecting.
“…Yeah, you pervert.”
You’re still going to fuck me even after this, aren’t you?
Hecaterina stared at Johan, her eyes full of conviction.
Johan smirked and began to toy with her.
He squeezed her breasts, pressed down on her clit with all his weight, grinding against it. He held her tightly, his arms crushing her, responding to her legs wrapped around his waist with equally forceful thrusts.
His testicles tightened, and he ejaculated. A primal urge to impregnate the female. Hecaterina, held so tightly she could barely breathe, gasped as she felt his semen filling her.
“Ungh…!”
She couldn’t breathe. Her chest and abdomen were constricted. Yet, paradoxically, she felt a surge of love from this inconsiderate act.
Tears streamed down her face as she reached for Johan, who was pulling away.
‘Oh…’
This is crazy.
Why do I feel this way about the man who just raped me?
…Why?
Her breath hitched. Hecaterina fainted.
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“Do you usually enjoy rape this much?”
“…What are you talking about?”
The moment Johan left the room, Regina asked this question.
He ignored the absurd question and tried to walk past her, but she seemed to take his silence as confirmation and scribbled something on the paper in her hand.
“What’s that?”
“Your record… Ah, please give that back.”
“Let’s see.”
Johan snatched the paper, and Regina frantically tried to retrieve it.
But a physically weak witch couldn’t possibly overpower him, especially since she had no offensive magic.
Ignoring her, Johan read the contents of the paper.
‘…Enjoys rape? Seems to engage in rape regularly. Sexually promiscuous, with a tendency towards aggressive dominance—’
“Who are you talking about?”
Johan frowned and looked at Regina. She finally retrieved the paper and clutched it protectively to her chest, turning away.
“…It’s merely my subjective evaluation. It’s none of your concern.”
“It’s my concern because your subjective evaluation is wrong. Isn’t that supposed to be about me? Shouldn’t a recorder be more accurate?”
“I record what I observe. Is there a problem with my record?”
Regina, her professional pride wounded, frowned and retorted defensively.
Johan, seeing this, realized she was feeling insecure.
“…Don’t tell me. You’ve been writing your books like this all along?”
“That’s correct. Until now, everything has been based on my observations…”
“…’The King of the Strong Kingdom took a new concubine every year. This is presumed to be a preventative measure against a recurrence of the incident where his mother nearly monopolized the kingdom’s power.’”
“…That’s…”
“’Tetraport. This monster possesses the characteristic of being unkillable unless its core is precisely struck, and it multiplies threefold over time.’”
Johan began reciting passages from the books he’d read in the cabin. All written by Regina.
He remembered them because he’d enjoyed reading them, but he also found it interesting that they were all accurate. He didn’t know about the historical records, but the information in the monster encyclopedia was entirely factual.
Yes, entirely factual. Not her assumptions or conjectures, but accurate observations.
“Those are your books, right? There’s no personal opinion in them. You’re very careful when writing your thoughts. Why is that?”
“…Even back then, I…”
“It’s because you had your ability back then, right?”
“…”
Regina fell silent, then looked at Johan resentfully. As a witch who observed and recorded others, she wasn’t used to being observed herself.
He could show her how unpleasant it felt, especially when the observations were filled with inaccuracies and subjective assumptions.
“I heard from Master. You didn’t mind your curse.”
“Yes, because my curse doesn’t interfere with my daily life…”
“That’s because all you had to do was write down what you saw. Your ability told you exactly what to write, how to write it. But now, faced with me, someone immune to your ability, you don’t know what to do… am I right?”
“…That’s not true.”
“Yes, it is. You haven’t been recording. You’ve been transcribing. The Witch of Records? Don’t make me laugh. The Witch of Photocopiers is more like it.”
Regina’s face crumpled. She probably didn’t understand what a photocopier was in this technologically underdeveloped world, but she understood the implication.
It was an insult to her very being, her title, her magic.
“If you’re going to do something, do it properly. Don’t half-ass it just because your ability isn’t working.”
Johan said this and returned to his room.
Regina, who had insisted on constantly observing him, didn’t follow.
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