The Tyrant's Happy Ending - Chapter 4.7
His unfocused eyes gazed downward, and now all that stood in the basin was clear water. It was the sound of emptying out, and it was also the sound of a magic circle being carved into the rectum.
‘…He’s sick.
As usual, they didn’t seem to have any intention of giving Jernen any sleeping pills or painkillers, so he could only imagine the pain. But even if she knew she was in pain, there was nothing she could do.
The overwhelming feeling of helplessness brought the tears to his eyes again. Jernen was proud and hated to show his tears to others, but the first violent situation he was thrown into was enough to make him break down.
It was then.
Once again, the knights hung Yernen’s head. But what came next was unexpected. He felt a strange instrument touch his buttocks.
‘Ugh…! What the…!’
Jernen wiggled his hips and tried to turn his head back. But he couldn’t even move his head, which had been pinned to the ground by Ainz.
‘…!’
Jernen’s eyes widened in shock, until they couldn’t get any wider. Something thin and slender, yet sharp, burrowed into Yernen’s insides.
‘Ugh…! Ugh…!’
After five watery gulps and spits, Yernen’s stomach accepted the instrument with a rust-coloured gulp, but he was deeply shocked to find that it was entering the part of his body that he had only used for expulsion in front of the others, and that it was pushing deeper and deeper without stopping.
‘Ugh…!’
The thin instrument was indeed pushing in, endlessly.
‘Hmph, hmph.’
As if that weren’t enough, the device pushed in further and further, until it reached my lower abdomen, causing me to gag. But then a further shock hit Jernen.
‘Ugh…! What the… what the… what the… what the… what the…!’
The endlessly thrusting device stopped and began to scratch the inside of his stomach.
‘Argh…!’
Jernen arched his back and shuddered at the horrible sensations crawling up his spine.
‘Hahaha!’
A chorus of mocking laughter could be heard around him, looking down at his tormented form.
Ha, ha, ha.
Jernen could feel his own breathing and the men’s laughter ringing in his ears.
‘Ewww…! Black…!’
The long instrument that had been scratching at his insides for so long seemed to have sliced through all the lining, and then it slipped out of his body like a snake slithering out.
‘What the… what have you done…?’
Jernen snapped menacingly at his deputies, trying to steady his trembling voice.
‘Hmph…!’
Then a hoof spread Yernen’s cheeks apart and squeezed the swollen, crimson hole.
‘Do you really think that your majesty will accept our precious lamb with this filthy hole, and all you have to do is empty your stomach?’
‘You…!’
Yernen shook with rage and glared at the Marquis of Petra.
‘How dare you…! How dare you…!’
He was so enraged that the words wouldn’t come out right.
‘How dare you… you, the head of a family that has produced a pope, who is supposed to protect the imperial family for generations…!’
The Marquis of Petra, hearing this, removed his foot from Yernen’s pure white hip and came to stand in front of him, his tear-stained face lifted.
‘Hmph…!’
‘That… but if our behaviour was wrong, shouldn’t the gods have punished us – a thunderbolt should have fallen from the sky?’
He said, grinding his teeth as if in some sort of anger.
‘But… nothing happens, does it not? The truth is, your majesty knows that the gods have no feelings for your imperial family, using them only as tools.’ The young-faced marquis with that mean smile pressed painfully on both of Jernen’s cheeks.
‘Ouch…!’
And into Yernen’s tiny gaping mouth, he pushed a single pill. Yernen fought not to take it, fearing that it might be the same strange pill Lizzie had always given him.
‘You’d better take it, the pain you’re about to feel is going to be so terrible you’ll want to stick your tongue out and die.’
‘…!’
Jernen’s wide eyes widened in horror.
‘Think of it as a painting stand. I’m paying you in advance for the pleasure you’ll give me in the future, and I’m paying you in advance for the pleasure you’ll give me in the future. Isn’t that gentlemanly compared to the others?’
As if he thought that was enough, the Marquis of Petra’s hand slipped away from Jernen’s face. But Jernen spat out the pill as soon as his hand was gone. The pure white pill, the size of a thumbnail, fell straight to the floor.
‘I don’t need a platform, just kill me.’
Jernen said in a venomous tone, his eyes filled with tears.
‘Ha. Pride in the midst of all this.’
The Marquis of Petra sneered at Yernen’s futile pretence and stomped on the pill, crushing it with his foot.
‘Your Majesty, do you still think you’re a cherished imperial?’
‘What…?’
He leaned down and whispered in Jernen’s ear.
‘On the subject of filthy male whores.’
‘…!’
The Marquis of Petra straightened up again and moved to sit behind Jernen.
‘You son of a b1tch!’
Harsh words burst from Yernen’s mouth. But no one in the room was afraid of him.
‘You still have that noble face and foul mouth… well, that’s good, I’ll try to be gracious… but if you refuse, you’ll have to see for yourself. I’d like to see you hold your crotch and beg for the medicine… and I’d also like to see you beg for it….’
The Marquis of Petra said to Jernen, who laughed coldly and glared at him.
‘If the pain is unbearable, just tell me. The least you can do is lick the bottom of my shoe.’
‘No way!’
Jernen shot back at him through gritted teeth.
‘Well, if that’s what you say, my dear, my business is done, so let’s get on with it, Duke.’
‘Of course. Lord Einz.’
There was a flurry of activity behind Jernen. Yernen flinched as he heard the clash of iron tools, and before long, iron stakes were driven into the floor of his cabin, and his arms and legs were cuffed and shackled to the stakes. Resistance was completely futile.
And then, as Yernen shuddered and closed his eyes tightly against the pain to come, the cold, slippery, slimy, slimy metal touched his back.
‘…!’
Yernen’s mouth made a pained sound as he felt the heavy pressure of the large iron club, which was neither thin nor slender like before. The pain of the first time had weakened Jernen to the point that he had vowed seconds earlier to never sound weak, despite his pride.
‘Ughhhhhh…!’
Yernen’s face slowly began to colour with horror as the rod pushed in from who-knows-where. Worse still, it bent and dug in, causing a terrible stomach ache.
Unable to even struggle, Jernen could no longer make a sound and could only hold his head down. But that was not the end of it.
For a long, long time, the contraption began to open up, far beyond human reach.
‘Argh!’
A horrific scream burst from Jernen’s mouth. He could feel something deep inside him opening up. The cold winter wind reached her hot insides, burning her delicate mucous membranes.
‘Arghhh…! Arghhh!’
Snap, snap, snap!
The restraints rattled in unison with Jernen’s seizure, making a clear sound. The pain was like nothing he had ever felt before. Jernen felt the horrible sensation of his body being split in two.
A series of cries escaped Yernen’s mouth, even though he knew that the people surrounding him would never understand him.
‘Aaah… it hurts, it hurts, it hurts, it hurts…!’
Tears streamed down his cheeks as he cried out in agony, unable to think straight.
‘Oh, no, you can’t be in pain from this, Your Majesty. I haven’t even started yet.’
With that, the Marquis of Petra grabbed Yernen’s hips and yanked them to either side, spreading them apart until they could no longer be separated. She could feel the eyes of the men behind her focusing on the space between her crotches. Jernen tried to bend his hips down, not wanting to show his inner walls, even though he was distracted by the terrible pain.
‘Ugh…!’
The penetration seemed to be getting deeper, but she didn’t care and tried to lower her lower body, but someone’s hand was holding her back.
‘Dang…let go!’
But no one listened to Jernen’s voice, which was almost feral.
‘Look at him squirming. It must be feeling it.’
‘I knew from the time I saw you as a child, Your Highness, that you were meant for this.’
A goosebumpy hand ran down Jernen’s straight spine.
‘By the way, you seem to be quite young, as all the children in my house have lost their minds by this point.’
‘You have a gift.’
‘I wonder if you’ll be able to keep it up.’
‘Is that what you’re doing now, Marquis de LeCrozet?’
‘Haha, of course!’
‘How dare a lowly prostitute dare to ask the Marquis de LeCrozet for the honour of having his magic circle engraved.’
‘Haha! That’s true. But….’
Saying that, the Marquis de LeCrozet peered into the crack between Yernen’s gaping buttocks.
‘I can’t see much inside.’