The Monster's Room - Chapter 37
The Marionette Troupe Leader brushed Marie’s cheek and locked eyes with her. From afar, a strange sound could be heard—a bizarre noise, almost as if bodies were contorting. The sound of lightly tapping feet, followed by a thud as they landed back on the ground. Marie’s breathing grew rapid.
Dancers.
It was clear they had replaced the special forces marionettes that were shattered by the fluffy cotton doll.
<Please, kiss me.>
The troupe leader urged with a gentler tone than before. Marie hesitated, then softly kissed him on the eyes, cheeks, and stitched lips. The stitches felt rough against her tongue.
The Iron Horse Knight stomped his feet so hard the floor seemed to shake, but that was all he did. Neither Marie nor the troupe leader paid him any mind as they continued their kiss, surrounded by the approaching dancers.
“Ah…”
Hands emerged from various places, slipping between the torn fabric of Marie’s clothes. She exhaled warmly, deepening the kiss with the troupe leader. The troupe leader, who had only received Marie’s small, warm tongue, pushed her shoulders firmly.
<Maybe it’s out of spite…>
He made Marie lean against the wall. With his tall frame confining her against the wall and dancers in sleeveless tops encircling them, Marie felt completely surrounded. The troupe leader gently pressed his thumb against her lower lip.
<Tonight, all I’m getting from the lady is a deep kiss.>
He then guided his own member, pulled from his trousers, to her lips.
<Here.>
Occasional sparks of electricity crackled. The lighting was half dark and half bright. Marie, in what seemed like a wasteland, obediently parted her lips.
The troupe leader’s member was as warm as those of the other marionettes. It had no odor, and was stitched like his mouth, giving a bumpy but not sharp texture to her tongue.
“Mm.”
<Haa.>
Marie carefully sucked on the troupe leader’s member, taking the head into her mouth and lightly stimulating it with her tongue. As excitement built up and she reached to use her hands as well, the dancers grabbed her hands from both sides and pulled them away.
With her hands bound unexpectedly, Marie’s eyes widened, and the troupe leader, holding her hair carefully but firmly, said:
<We said we’d just receive kisses, right?>
“Ugh!”
The member, which had barely penetrated a third of the way, pushed against Marie’s uvula and entered her throat. Tears dampened Marie’s cheeks.
<It’s too tight and hot.>
“Ugh, guh, ack, ugh!”
<Ugh, I should have handled this sooner.>
“Ugh, cough, hack.”
<Why did I leave this here?>
The troupe leader, gripping Marie’s hair, thrust passionately with his waist. His vigorous motion caused Marie’s throat to expand and contract visibly with each thrust. The sensation felt overwhelming to Marie.
It was painful but pleasurable.
As the masochistic pleasure consumed her, Marie was torn between the desire to escape and the contradictory urge to endure more. With her hands bound and her back pressed against the wall, pushing against the floor with her heels was her only form of resistance.
“Ugh! Crack! Ack! Huff!”
<Oh, Marie! Marie! Marie!>
Smack!
Marie’s body was thrust upwards as the member forcefully hit her throat. Though not as severe as the Iron Horse Knight, the troupe leader’s unique and sizable member thoroughly blocked her throat. It pressed so deeply and persistently that Marie’s nose felt numb and she could almost feel the stitched marks of the member as it pressed against her throat.
That much, Marie could handle.
She had endured various forms of torment, like J’s tentacles or the knight’s iron club—although it might not have been the same kind—but this was manageable.
However.
<It feels so good.>
It was a misjudgment.
<Oh! My lady! Oh, my lady!>
The Marionette troupe leader did not stop there but continued to lose control. He forcefully grabbed Marie’s head and thrust even deeper, swinging his waist in every direction—clockwise and counterclockwise—until he came.
“……, …! …!!”
Marie, unable to breathe, was overwhelmed by the violent thrusting, feeling as if her neck might snap or her throat might tear. She was soaked in the process, and the troupe leader’s final climax came when he forcefully drove himself in, seemingly trying to slam Marie’s head against the wall.
<Haah…>
Marie had to swallow all of the se-en that overflowed from her stomach.
<How was it?>
“Haa, haa.”
The troupe leader, having withdrawn his member covered in stitched marks, pressed the head of his member against Marie’s lips and asked. Marie, lacking the strength to respond, could only blink her eyes weakly. Her face, smeared with tears, snot, saliva, and se-en, was flushed with heat, adding to the provocative sight.
<Did you enjoy it too, my lady?>
The troupe leader, with his green eyes gliding smoothly, crouched down and wiped the se-en pooled at Marie’s chin. His fingers seemed to hesitate for a moment, perhaps tempted to touch her sweaty cleavage, before he returned to gripping her hair.
<It’s okay.>
“…”
<There will be plenty more enjoyable moments to come.>
