A/N: Contains intense scenes.*
The sergeant, in a word, is an idiot.
Because of him, the prison cell across the way is guarded by several wardens with stun batons and one other person—likely a healing mage. So many personnel are needed.
Thrown before him is an alien woman.
She has the typical alien beauty—well-defined features, bound hands and feet, and a gag in her mouth. But she has two horns on her head, and her large breasts somehow remind me of a cow.
The sergeant stomps over to the woman lying on the floor, unapologetically intrusive.
"Mgh! Mghhhh‼"
Her wordless screams echo in vain.
Without warning, the sergeant slashes the ropes binding her feet with his claws. Then, he tears her clothes apart as if he were a child ripping open a long-awaited gift.
And what happens next? Since the sergeant isn't thinking about the woman at all, his claws leave deep gashes on her body, and blood seeps out in red streaks.
"Mgh! Mghhhh!"
"..."
The short-haired girl's voice has stopped at some point.
But this is just the beginning.
Grabbing the woman's legs, the sergeant drags her roughly across the floor, then pushes his body between her legs and looms over her.
"———⁉ Ghmghhhhhh‼"
Her muffled scream echoes through the prison.
Of course, that's what happens when you thrust your thick member inside without any foreplay or preparation. And since the sergeant doesn't understand the vagina or uterus, he's probably gone all the way to her womb in one stroke.
Whether she's a virgin or not doesn't matter. Blood gushes from her vagina instead of arousal, and her backside is drenched in it.
"Hic..."
That's the short-haired girl's cry.
Meanwhile, the sergeant, caring only about thrusting into a hole, violently pounds the woman. Her large breasts bounce wildly, as if they might tear off.
"Guh, mghhhh, mghhhh, mghhhh——"
Let's not forget: the Butcher's true nature is to rape, kill, and devour. The sergeant over there is acting purely on instinct.
The sergeant bites into the woman's lips, tearing the flesh along with the gag.
"Agghh⁉ Mghhhhhh‼"
Her screams reach a new pitch.
Because the sergeant, still thrusting his hips, bites into her breast.
At this, a warden steps in, pressing a stun baton to the sergeant's back to restrain him. Meanwhile, the nearby mage casts a healing spell on the woman, mending her wounds.
But no one pulls the sergeant off her.
This torture will continue until he ejaculates.
By the time the sergeant tears off one of her breasts, chewing it greedily, he's completely focused on his own pleasure.
The Butcher's thrusts are brutal. With each strike, her body jerks as her insides are battered.
"———Ahgh, ugh, ugh, ugh, ugh——"
She seems to lose consciousness for a moment, but pain and other sensations drag her back to reality, and she begins screaming again.
She struggles, but it doesn't matter. I know because I'm a Butcher too—a woman's resistance is like a twig flailing in the wind. Barely ticklish. Completely meaningless.
That's the true nature of a Butcher's sex.
A disregard for life itself. They only understand whether something is flesh to be penetrated or not. It's purely animalistic reproduction.
—No, calling it reproduction is too generous.
Butchers don't desire to create children.
Butchers aren't even alive.
They're twisted biological weapons.
Monsters.
It's just a mindless monster's playtime.
"..."
After watching this one-man show for a while, I pull my finger from the short-haired girl's mouth. Saliva trails from her lips, but she says nothing, her mouth hanging open as she watches the spectacle intently.
It's quite the spectacle, isn't it?
I understand how you feel. The first time I saw it, I was overwhelmed.
Honestly, it was horrifying.
I thought, *Is that what I am?*
I press the short-haired girl's head against the bars and use my free hand to tear her clothes from behind.
I run my dark tongue along her exposed nape, tasting the bitterness of fear mixed with her sweat.
That sergeant is always like that. So, the women brought to him are always different. One session is enough to destroy them, body and mind.
I assume there are advanced healing spells that could fix even that, but the mage here isn't skilled enough. Such magic isn't wasted on a Butcher's sacrifice.
I carefully strip the short-haired girl's clothes. The front is already torn, so I rip the back a bit, then pull it off easily, like unwrapping a convenience store rice ball.
Her beautiful neck, hairline, smooth shoulders, sweat-drenched back, and plump buttocks are all exposed. I run my tongue over her naked body, then return to watching the ongoing torture next door.
But today is especially brutal. The floor is already a pool of blood. The warden tries to stop the act once, but the sergeant won't stop, and the mage is breathing heavily.
The woman's arm is bitten off, and she's near death.
Then the sergeant clamps down on the woman and lets out a dirty growl. Finally, he ejaculates. She somehow survives, but will there be a second round?
I can't see the short-haired girl's expression, but her shoulders and buttocks tremble.
The sergeant's brutal training is a success.
Over there, just undressing the woman leaves her in tatters. I tear her clothes so carefully.
He tears off her breasts. I caress them gently, careful not to use my claws.
He just thrusts and batters her insides. I prevent her from biting her tongue and lick her body tenderly, even holding back from using her vagina for now—a kindness.
The sergeant is a good negative example. When a defiant girl comes to me, he demonstrates what a Butcher truly is and, in contrast, shows her my value.
And since he also demonstrates the existence of healing magic, it's especially effective on the tongue-cut girls.
Alright, I think it's time.
I release her head from my grip.
The short-haired girl collapses where she stands, still gripping the bars.
"Hah... hah... hahah... hah... hahah..."
She looks down, letting out a dry laugh. I tease her ear with my dark tongue.
Prompted, she looks up at me.
Her tearful eyes dart around, and her mouth quivers.
You understand now, don't you?
How fortunate it is to be held by me.
Now, what's next? Usually, it goes like this—
One: She becomes a dead weight, giving up completely. This is fine. They soon start moaning wildly. No woman has stayed a dead weight for long.
Two: She kneels and eagerly takes my penis into her mouth, begging for help. This is the most common.
This girl—
She lies on the cold floor, spreads her legs wide, and begins to masturbate blankly, as if offering herself to me.
She's type three: she opens her legs herself. This type is rare but actually the smartest.
When a woman's life is truly threatened, her instinct to protect her life and future kicks in. So, she prepares herself to avoid injury and tries to please me to save her life and future.
You might wonder if she can get wet in this situation, but she does. It's not sexual arousal but a defensive reaction to fear, but still, human women are strong. It's admirable.
And these girls are often deeply lewd. They're the most fun to violate. After two or three ejaculations, they usually start moving their hips themselves. Even the girl with the wavy hair was type three the day she received the sergeant's training.
As I watch excitedly, wet sounds begin to emerge.
I decide to help, bringing my penis close to her face. Without hesitation, she runs her tongue over it.
Oh, she's pretty good. Experienced.
"Bu... bu... bu... nggh..."
I grab her head, thrusting halfway down her throat, and move her head back and forth. At the same time, I tease her erect nipples with my dark tongue. She accelerates her fingers between her legs.
Wet sounds come from her mouth—*gupo, gupo*—and from below—*chu... chu...*
After a while, the woman's screams from the neighboring cell overwrite these lewd sounds. The second round has begun over there.
"...!"
I can feel the short-haired girl stiffen at the noise.
She still has my large penis in her mouth, tears welling up in her eyes as she trembles like a small animal.
I should help her relax quickly.
"——Pah... ugh... ahh!"
I pull my penis from her mouth, stroke it myself, and ejaculate onto her chest.
The white liquid flows down her sun-kissed skin, mixing with her masturbating hand.
"Ah..."
Before I finish ejaculating, I kneel and push her down.
I press the tip of my still-quivering penis, dripping with semen, against her slit.
I rub the sticky liquid into her labia, press it against her vaginal opening, and inject it inside.
Perfect.
When the neighbor is loud, it's best to overwrite it with your own voice.
*Zupri.* I enter her tight opening.
"——Gghah... nah... ah, aah! Aaaaaaaaahhhh‼"
As I thought, the short-haired girl is deeply lewd. She moans beautifully in sync with my horse-like thrusts. Usually, they scream in pain the first time. This is promising.
The woman's death screams from next door. The savage beast's growls. The incomprehensible chaos of the aliens. And beneath me, a woman begins to scream in pleasure. The lewd, wet sounds from our union. Such a violently erotic soundscape.
The short-haired girl cries and trembles beneath me. She's still scared.
So, I cup her ears to block out the noise and thrust my dark tongue into her mouth, creating a private, personal space for her. To help her focus on me.
I continue to ravage her vagina with my Butcher's lance until she reaches her orgasm.
It doesn't take long for the short-haired girl to start moaning sweetly. As I notice the change, I finally relax and ejaculate into her womb.
"Mmm... guh... unnnnnnggggghhhh⁉"
She trembles with the shock of a beast's conquest, something she's never experienced before.
Her healthy body twitches repeatedly, and with one final, large jerk, she collapses, spent.
Without pulling out, I begin the second round, keeping the momentum going.
"Guh... pah... ah... ah... ah... ahn... haaahn..."
There's no more resistance. Her eyes have accepted everything.
Now, all that's left is to defile this sun-kissed, healthy body on the cold floor and keep ejaculating until she loses consciousness.
Nothing unusual. Just another day at work.
A small sigh escapes her gums-bared mouth.
Today, I'm a little tired.
...
The short-haired girl beneath me begins to drip with sweat, tears, and saliva. She moans cutely as I thrust into her, understanding that pleasing me keeps her safe.
But even she will leave me soon.
—How much longer?
How much longer must I repeat this meaningless act?
As the thought crosses my mind, I feel my entire body compress toward my solar plexus.
—How much longer?
Can I keep myself together?
Sometimes, when I'm tired, this overwhelming loneliness grips me.
I mock the sergeant in my mind, looking down on him, but in the end, I'm no different. If I let my guard down, I'll become like him.
Because I'm a little envious.
Of how carefree and animalistic he seems.
—But not yet.
My soul hasn't been extinguished yet.
When I feel like this... I need the madam to relieve me and give me energy.
I can't wait to see her.