The Monster's Room - Chapter 59
The orchestra resumed its melody, and the once awkwardly standing dancers began to move gracefully. Amidst the dazzling lights and bloodstains, the performance he desired, albeit slightly messy, was now unfolding.
<From now on, it begins.>
With a comically oversized hat pulled low, he elegantly bowed using his long limbs.
♬♩♪♩♪♩
Unlike the repetitive nightmare of the Iron Horse Knight, the Marionette Troupe Leader’s nightmare did not loop.
Instead, it grew darker and narrower. Though the stage remained unchanged, his body became grotesquely crumpled like a newspaper. His bones snapped, and his flesh tore as he continued to shrink.
Snap. Roll.
Only his head and two hands remained.
♪♩♪♬♬♬♬♬♬♬♬♬
The show went on.
♬♬♬♬♬♬♬♬♬♬♬♬
Only the performance continued. The darkened audience hall hid the monster’s form, allowing for a smoother and more graceful show. The monster, now trapped in an unseen box, closed his eyes.
“I wondered why you kept welcoming guests.”
An unexpected change disrupted the seemingly eternal space at that moment.
“Were you lonely?”
A finger poked the grotesque head. The monster slowly opened his eyes, revealing jewel-like green irises in the dimly lit theater.
“Hello.”
After seeing the figure illuminated by the soft stage lights, the Marionette Troupe Leader thought,
“I am Marie.”
That something more dazzling than the stage had appeared.
* * *
The Marionette Troupe Leader did not recognize Marie. She wasn’t disappointed by this.
If he couldn’t remember, she would help him create new memories. Marie attempted to lace her fingers with one of his hands but failed. Wrong hand. She switched to the other hand, causing his green eyes to blink.
<Who are you, Lady?>
A voice came from the gramophone. Marie chuckled at its stronger tone compared to what she remembered.
“Who do you think I am?”
<A guest? Or a new troupe member?>
“All wrong.”
What should she say? As Marie looked at their clasped hands, she glanced at her left hand, where the ring given to her by the Iron Horse Knight remained, even in the dream.
“Want to guess again?”
Would you like to have ▉▉ with me?
The whispered words were suggestive. The situation even more so.
Marie kissed the ring finger of the Troupe Leader’s hand and placed it on her chest. As he inadvertently tightened his grip, the soft, supple flesh compressed under his touch.
Rapid breaths and a pounding heart. Marie didn’t stop there, guiding his other hand to her va–na. The Troupe Leader, mesmerized, began exploring her most sensitive spot.
“Ah…”
Her chest was soft, and between her legs was slick. He fumbled between the slippery folds until he found her cli–ris.
“Mmm.”
Her delicate moan mingled with the music. Despite lacking a tongue, his mouth felt parched. While focused on rubbing her cli–ris, he used his other hand to grasp her n–ple, pulling it downward.
“Ouch!”
The sharp pleasure from her b****t made Marie curl up, causing his fingers to slip into her moist interior.
<Ah.>
A sound resembling a moan emerged from the gramophone.
Her tight, warm flesh clung to his fingers. Instinctively, or perhaps from ingrained habits, he pressed down on her cli–ris with his thumb while thrusting the rest of his fingers deep inside. The sticky sounds were almost drowned out by the music.
The monster wanted to hear that sound more clearly.
“Ah, oh, uhh.”
He pushed his hand deeper into her. Three fingers went in easily, four were manageable, but the knuckle area posed a bit of a challenge. However, with a twist of his hand, it slipped in smoothly.
Her body seemed accustomed to this act.
And so did he.
“Ha, ha, ha.”
His hand kept stimulating Marie’s va–na, pushing deeper. Marie instinctively reached for his wrist, only to realize he had no wrist and trembled. Sitting on the floor with her legs spread, she brought her hand to her lower abdomen.
The Troupe Leader’s hand was inside her.
Though it lacked a wrist or forearm, it felt as if a living entity was stirring her insides.
“Ha, ah.”
His fingers raked her inner walls, moving like spider legs, pressing and pushing against a specific spot. Marie knew it was her c-rvix. The Troupe Leader seemed to realize that hitting that spot elicited the best reactions from her.
“Ah! Oh! Ah, ah, ah!”
When he clenched his fist, the inside would swell tight, and as he swung it, Marie let out a scream-like moan from the sensation of her insides being pounded. Amidst this, she noticed his other hand, which had been tormenting her n–ple, moving downward.
When she turned her gaze to the Troupe Leader, his eerily glowing green eyes met hers.
<Do you think I could add another?>
“No, ah, oh no!”
<It’s okay, there’s no wrist to worry about.>
“Two hands, ah! I’ve never had two hands inside, ahhh!”
