The Dialectic of Master and Slave - Chapter 36
A smile spread across his lips. Unbeknownst to him, it was the first genuine smile he had made in a long time.
Jaha, meanwhile, was flustered as she watched the monstrous s***t before her swell to full e******n in an instant.
The Emperor removed his hand from her head and spoke.
“That’s enough. Get on the bed and lie face down.”
Again?
With her face pale, Jaha rose from her position. Her legs, numb from kneeling for so long, moved stiffly as she positioned herself on the bed. The Emperor slapped her b******s with a sharp crack.
“Lift your hips higher and spread your legs wide so your cunt is clearly visible.”
Jaha’s mind reeled, not from the stinging pain but from the vulgar language.
The Emperor had never used such crude words before. In fact, he had barely spoken at all. To him, Jaha wasn’t even a person—just a tool to satisfy his desires, a hole of flesh.
But today, it felt as though he had decided to provoke and humiliate her at every turn. She couldn’t understand why he was suddenly acting this way, and the mix of confusion and humiliation churned her insides.
Biting her lip, Jaha buried her face in the bedsheet, lifting only her lower body. The texture of the sheet against her cheek was unlike the rough fabric in the slave quarters—it was as soft as feathers. And that only made her feel more wretched.
From that day on, the Emperor began spouting all sorts of obscenities in bed.
If he had been like that from the start, it might have been different. But for someone who had never spoken that way before to suddenly change was a heavy blow. Especially since the person in question wasn’t some street thug—he was the Emperor.
There’s an expectation that comes with social status. For example, people expect morality from teachers, fairness from judges, and integrity from politicians. What Jaha had expected from the Emperor was a certain level of refinement—something befitting the most noble status in the empire.
The shock of having that expectation betrayed was immense. Perhaps it was even more jarring because of the stark contrast with his princely appearance.
He began demanding humiliating acts that he had never asked for before. He made her m********e beside him while he reviewed documents, reenact the training she had received from Lady Berun by inserting eggs into herself, or even mount a phallic-shaped device attached to the floor and move her hips. On some days, he made her kneel under his desk for hours, servicing him with her mouth while he worked.
Jaha repeated to herself endlessly:
What the Emperor does to me means nothing.
No matter what this man does to me, nothing changes.
No matter what this man does, I am not tainted or broken.
This man has no power to affect me in any way.
She repeated these thoughts over and over to keep from breaking. For Jaha, there was a reason she had to endure—no matter what.
She had to return safely to her family, to her original world.
For that one goal, Jaha silently endured every humiliation.
◇ ◆ ◇
The Emperor, gripping her head, thrust roughly and deeply before releasing inside her. The sensation of her throat being completely blocked was followed by the spread of thick fluid.
Jaha wanted to gag as the viscous liquid threatened to reflux, but the thick s***t still lodged in her throat prevented her from spitting it out.
Only after Jaha, convulsing, had completely swallowed the fluid did the Emperor finally pull out the member that had been plugging her throat.
Jaha had a weak stomach and couldn’t bring herself to swallow s***n on her own. Once, when the Emperor had pulled out early, she had gagged and spat it all onto the floor.
The Emperor had frowned but didn’t punish or scold her for dirtying the carpet. Instead, from then on, he made sure to block her throat with his member so she couldn’t spit it out.
As he stroked the head of Jaha, who had swallowed—or rather, been forced to swallow—his seed, he said,
“Your mouth service has improved quite a bit. At this rate, it won’t be long before you can take me to the root.”
Jaha, her head bowed, gasped weakly, utterly exhausted. The foreign sensation still lingered in her throat. For some reason—though it might have been her imagination—it felt like with each act, his member was going deeper.
She was starting to fear that her throat might stretch permanently.
