Am I Lewd Enough?

Chapter 40: Chapter XXXIX: A God? A Fallen Angel? An Elf? (5)


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Previously

Instantly, Willow’s hips thrashed around like a fish stranded on land as the most intense orgasm hit him like a truck. “Urghhh! Cummhing, cumming!” Rather than Nightmare’s grip loosening like he hoped, it tightened as her tongue moved like a whip, lashing and solely focusing on his G-spot, gulping down the wave of heavenly nectar like a dehydrated camel as his little penis shot droplets of cum down her mother-like breasts. If it was possible, his smell was at it’s sweetest, long since surpassing nectar and entered well into the domain of drugs, drugs that could even affect a goddess-level being such as herself. It was like he had used her Eye against herself since the only thing in her mind was to devour as much of his drug-like nectar into her stomach and was she getting stronger? It felt like she was gulping down the world’s essence with how her body felt full and elevated, ascending after every gulp.

 Thus, she couldn’t help herself when she also came just by drinking his nectar. Her eyes rolled to the back of her head, bunny ears stiffening as her hips pumped hot cum onto his vulnerable, nubile stomach. As she coated him in her cum, Willow felt like his stomach was being bathed in lava from how hot and glutinous her cum was. By the point they were finishing their climax, both of them had already lost their minds, covered in each other’s abundant fluid.

“Puhee,” Nightmare’s tongue discharged from his hole, her entire face wet with his scent and nectar, eyes crossed vulgarly like she had just been face-fucked by the world’s largest cock as Willow’s lower body fell onto her breasts in defeat; both of them twitching and shivering constantly from how divine that all felt.


 

“I’m sorry.”

This was definitely not what Willow expected to see first thing in the morning by the same assailant who nearly, no, who basically just raped me yesterday evening. He hid his nude body with the sheets, pulling them up to his chest despite being a boy. Perhaps, He had been turning more into a Maiden than he thought but that wasn’t the important thing right now. 

“I’m sorry.” Ivanka bowed down, kneeling on one knee as she unsheathed a sword, holding it before her. “If you desire vengeance, you may inflict it on this body of mine.”

Willow scratched his head, mind still a little screwed up and hazy because of the heat last night. He winced when he accidentally touched the back of his neck but even in this groggy state of his, he was still clear-minded enough to remember that Ivanka and Nightmare were two totally different people, one was honorable and noble whereas the other would fuck anything she deemed attractive; even if they were wives, sisters, beastkin or pure animals. Hell, Nightmare would make a dragon look like a monk from how lustful her heart was.

One was the goddess of elves, love and dignity whereas the other was the goddess of beastkins, lust and savagery. But only a few people should know of the distinction in this current time-period so he couldn’t completely let her off the hook either.

Willow tried my best to act like a victim of sexual assault. He let out a sob, turning his head away from her and asked with a hoarse voice, “Why did you do it?”

“. . .I’m sorry,” She replied. “I’m not able to provide a reason but. . but if you can find it in your heart to forgive me, please punish me.” The steel in her hands clanged. 

“. . .You snuck into my bed. You took advantage of me,” Willow sniffled. Pretty good acting if he did say so himself. “You raped me. How dare you ask me to grant you honor when you nearly took mine?”

At his words, her body trembled—in fear or shame, he didn’t know. What he did know was that she was as honorable as she was in the game since she could easily tell him that it wasn’t her who had raped him. Of course, it’ll be a pain in the ass on her part, to explain the differences to a simple, uneducated townboy and there was still the case of whether he’d believe her or not. 

But then again, Willow still found her action as nothing short of honorable. “. . . .I’m sorry,” She replied again. 

But Willow still had to play his part. He’d already gotten too much suspicion placed on him to the point he even suspected that the Demon God already knows of the actual person living under Willow, under her dear beloved’s skin. 

Make no mistake, Willow still feel anger and rage—Well, the Maiden inside him is feeling extremely angry at being nearly raped but he knew better than to let rage control him. And most importantly, he knew that it wasn’t Ivanka’s fault but to quell the resentment within him, He’d have to do something about Nightmare when she comes out again.

Willow must be taking too long to answer since he could feel Ivanka staring at him. He gripped the edges of his sheets and with tear-filled eyes, he spun his head to look at her. “No.” His voice was wobbly enough for Ivanka to hear the frustrated anger behind it. “No, I won’t give you what you want. I won’t kill you, I won’t hurt you.”

“But I will punish you,” Willow said with gritted teeth. “You will live beside me, care for me, attend to me all the while you’re under the guilt that you raped me.”

As expected of Ivanka, despite his acting skills worthy of an Oscar, she didn’t even so much as flinch before she unsheathed the sword and bowed her head, with a hand over her heart as if she was being knighted. “As you wish.” She then stood up and grabbed space itself, twisting it before taking something out and presenting it to him. 

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“A. . .dress?” He looked over the bundle of garments in her hands and for a second, his eyes widened in surprise at the intense amount of mana concentrated within the dress. 

“. . .An apology. I hope you’ll receive it,” Ivanka handed it to him. 

Willow had to act like he didn’t just nearly fangasmed after realizing what the magical dress was. Forcing the excited trembles in his voice down, he looked away from her and outside the window before simply saying, “. . . .Just leave it there. Go away. I want to be alone for the moment.”

“I understand,” Ivanka said before gently placing the garments on the foot of my bed. “Breakfast will be ready soon. You can eat it whenever you wish.”

“. . . ”

“Then, please excuse me,” Ivanka quietly left through the door, finally leaving him with what could only be described as the [Dress Of Heaven]. 

He couldn’t believe his luck. The [Dress Of Heaven] was one of the 12 World Items, ranked number six and one of the three main items iconic to Willow in the game. The design was nothing overly flashy as it was modeled after the greek toga—-with a color whiter and purer than the angels and a lengthy, red scarf inscribed with ancient symbols that could be wrapped all over the dress, keeping you safe from any and all attacks. Ignoring the fact that the defensive stats of this dress was off the charts, the main reason why it was one of the 12 World Items was that once awakened, one would be able to summon the [Chains Of Heaven], rumored to be able to chain down anything in the seven realms. . .at a price.

In game, the price was nothing more than an extraordinary demand of your prana but in reality, it would most likely be conceptual. But he wasn’t supposed to obtain this until way later in the game since it was too hax in the early plot or it would be but considering that the Demon God appeared even earlier, perhaps the world was just trying to make up for the hastening of the plot.

More importantly, the main reason as to why it was so iconic and synonymous to Willow was that it was something the Demon God had crafted for him, well his first incarnation at least,  during their impromptu wedding in the middle of their war with heaven.

And thus, “Come to me.” He hadn’t even so much as touched it before the [Dress Of Heaven] shined like a flash of light. The light died down soon after as he found that he was somehow already wearing the heavenly dress. Just as described in the game, it felt. . .right, all snug and perfect around me. It felt like his child had returned to him. 

Willow checked himself out in the mirror, enjoying how the [Dress Of Heaven] was snuggled up perfectly against his skin. It sang songs in my ears, a melody only he could hear as it reminded him of all the new abilities it had obtained since the last time he’d worn it but none of them were better than the original three core abilities that made the dress what it is.

  1. [Heaven’s Guard]: A defensive type ability that, when invoked, summons two angelic wings that will guard the user from any attack, and save him from death at least once. 
  2. [Adjust]: A tailor type ability that allows for the adjustment and fixment of the dress on the user. 
  3. [Chains Of Heaven]: An offensive type ability that summons golden chains and binds the opponent under the heavenly principles. 

Of course, out of the three of them, only [Adjust] was usable for me right now since the other two required me to at least be of Emblem-Gold Tier but then again, he knew that [Heaven’s Guard] would activate if it sensed that he was under extreme danger, something that transcended even the danger of death. But no matter, the other minor skills embedded in the Dress like [Temperature Control] were already more than enough for the current him, in this current timeline. 

“But these robes are too mangly,” He muttered. “[Adjust].” It surprised him how natural it came for him to manipulate the Dress. A quick Whoosh sounded as the Dress collapsed into itself before a pure white dress appeared on me but he wasn’t satisfied. “It’s a little too frilly. Make it a bit more minimalistic please. [Adjust].”

Another Whoosh sounded again as a more practical outfit appeared on him. It was still the same white dress albeit a lot. . .less. There were no frills or anything of the sort and instead, it was something akin to a white, one piece skirt that accentuated his waist and hips, topped up with long, white stockings that really made his thick thighs pop out, with the long, black scarf around his neck. 

“Much better,” Willow nodded, satisfied. Just then, his stomach growled when the smell of an English breakfast wafted into his nose. He didn’t know how on earth, Ivanka managed to make an English-themed breakfast in a fantasy world but he was too hungry to really pay any attention at this point. He wanted to run out the room and mangle my breakfast but he still had to play the part of an assaulted victim. He sighed.  “I hope breakfast isn’t too awkward.” 

 


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