The Dialectic of Master and Slave - Chapter 49
“I gave you bread, so forgive me.”
“Retroactive forgiveness isn’t a thing.”
Cedric’s eyes widened slightly, surprised by her sharp retort.
“Then I’ll bring more bread next time I get some. Forgive me with that.”
“We’ll see.”
Jaha didn’t give a definite answer and stepped back haughtily. Cedric burst into clear laughter again.
The cool breeze, delicious food, and pleasant company made the suffocating feeling in her chest seem to dissipate.
I think I can survive this.
Heaven and hell might just be two sides of the same coin.
Returning to her quarters after parting with Cedric, Jaha saw the chief attendant waiting for her and couldn’t help but think that.
“Where have you been? His Majesty is summoning you.”
“Why…?”
Jaha couldn’t help but mutter. The Emperor had never called for her during this time before.
The chief attendant ignored her minor protest, pretending not to hear it. Swallowing the rising sense of injustice, Jaha followed him.
The Emperor, having just finished bathing, was dressed more casually than usual.
Leaning back on the couch with a glass of wine, he parted his robe and revealed his e***t p***s. Its overwhelming size, comparable to the wine bottle on the table, made Jaha feel nauseous all over again.
“With your mouth.”
A short command. Her “what if” became a “just as expected.”
Lowering her eyes, Jaha knelt before the couch.
The Emperor sipped his wine, looking down at her.
As always, he seemed prepared to wait until the ordeal was over. But this time, he found it particularly unbearable.
A week had been too long.
Time passed unbearably slowly. Each day felt sickeningly long.
He couldn’t focus on his work.
He found himself red-eyed, counting down the days until the week would pass.
Why? Is it because I can’t satisfy my s****l desires?
While he had a strong libido, he wasn’t such a pathological lecher that he couldn’t endure just one week. In fact, hadn’t he been managing well until now? It’s not like one would die from not finding release. There’s no reason I can’t suppress it.
If asked whether I generally lack self-control, he could confidently answer no. If he, the supreme ruler, had lived dissolutely, the empire would have fallen into chaos long ago. Since coming of age, he had never once let himself go. Though he was wasting some time lately, it wasn’t enough to interfere with state affairs.
Well aware that his power came with proportional responsibility, he had long been accustomed to exercising restraint. So why can’t I suppress it this time?
He couldn’t understand his own feelings. Perhaps alcohol is to blame. After all, alcohol clouds reason and thins patience.
Even after sending the Head Servant to bring the slave, it felt like rats were gnawing at his nerves. A sense of defeat and regret at losing the battle with himself, along with an unclear anxiety and restlessness.
This is hardly befitting the psychological state of an emperor waiting for a mere slave.
As he kept drinking wine, feeling unsettled by this incomprehensible phenomenon, the slave opened the door and entered. In that moment, all the emotions disturbing his mind vanished like a lie. Like water dousing a burning fire.
He didn’t think deeply about the reason why.
After all, that slave has only one use. There was no reason to be so desperate to summon her if not to satisfy his urges. So he made her take him in her mouth, but when she did, he found he couldn’t see her face well. All that was visible was mostly the crown of her head. That bothered him strangely.
“Stop.”
After grabbing her head to make her stop, he withdrew himself from her mouth. Though it was regrettable to pull out from the soft, warm membrane surrounding him, right now he wanted to see the slave’s face even more.
“With your hands.”
Though Jaha couldn’t understand the Emperor’s sudden whim, she silently obeyed. After all, hands were much better than mouth.
Wrapping both hands around the flesh that was too thick to grip with just one hand, Jaha moved slowly up and down.
While this had been included in Lady Berun’s “education,” since it was her first time actually doing it, there were uncertainties. I probably shouldn’t grip too hard, but how much pressure should I use?
The Emperor watched Jaha awkwardly handling his p***s while drinking his wine.
Her troubled expression, her brows slightly furrowed in concentration, her lips slightly parted and still wet with saliva.
A strange sense of satisfaction tickled his chest. It was different from the feeling of s****l satisfaction.
There could be no confusion about it, as her handling of his member was, to put it bluntly, terrible.
Too cautious in her touch, barely creating any sensation beyond a slight tickle. Yet he felt good. The sharp edges within him softened, making him feel infinitely merciful.
