"Ngh! Ah! Ah! Aaah… nnn… haa…!? Guh… ahh! Ah, ah, ah, ah, s-stop! Too, rough, aahh!?"
The blonde girl returned to me.
I was overjoyed. She, too, welcomed our reunion, spreading her legs and letting out sweet moans.
I'd been worried during our brief separation, but she hadn't been taken by another Butcher, and her mind was unchanged. There was nothing more delightful.
"Uuu… ah, ah, again… stop! Stop, please! I-it's… too much! Nnnghh! Ah, ah!? Ahh, guh—… ~~~~! ———!"
So, to celebrate, I decided to change things up today, violating her in new ways.
It's been nearly half a day since I started tormenting her, but she's still going strong, full of energy. Her long blonde hair spreads across the sheets like a substitute, and while I pin her down in missionary, pouring myself into her, she quivers beneath my arms, again and again.
The secret is breaks.
It's simple, but incredibly effective.
Eventually, my grueling, lengthy seeding comes to an end.
Her body, which had been tense as she clenched her teeth to endure, relaxes, and she collapses on the cold floor.
From the slack opening of her vagina, thick, hot semen oozes out.
Normally, I'd start violating her again without pulling out, but today is different.
"Haa… haa… haa—hah… ugh."
*Slurp.* I withdraw my Butcher's lance from the blonde's vagina.
*Pew! Splat!* Semen scatters across her pale body, and she catches it on her face with a feverish breath.
I stand up and lumber around like a bear, pacing within the prison cell. I observe her sleeping form from every angle, circling her 360 degrees.
Any woman would become like a stuffed toy after a full day of my torment, but this blonde girl recently showed glimpses of sanity, which I remember well.
Even during the beastly rape sessions that followed, I saw flickers of determination in her eyes.
So today, I've been taking breaks, holding her as her stamina recovers, so she can endure me for much longer.
When you think about it, even professional athletes take halftime breaks during games. Doing it nonstop would be too harsh. I think my stamina standards have become warped since becoming a Butcher.
My hunch was right.
She's clearly enduring my violation longer than before, enjoying it more. At this rate, she'll last not just a full day, but two, staying fresh until the end. That's bound to make her happy, too. I want to pour pleasure into her until her brain cells burn out.
This woman is strangely tough—in heart.
The blonde girl possesses a rare talent unlike the other cellmates, a unique vector. My professional eye recognized her rarity.
She could become my masterpiece, a raw sexual diamond. I must polish her well, with my equally hard rod.
There's also one important thing I need to confirm about her.
—Very important.
This new routine is also a stepping stone for that.
Seeing her breathing steady, I pull her arm, helping her stand. She no longer resists. I think she's come to understand that I'm a precious being who gives her pleasure, not pain.
I press her against the prison bars from behind.
With a *clatter*, the blonde grips the bars. Presented to me is a flawless, spotless peach of a butt.
The pull is incredible. No man could resist this.
I position her for standing doggy style, aligning my red-hot, lust-filled Butcher's lance with the crevice of her plump buttocks.
"Hah… hah, hah, hah."
Her back, with blonde hair cascading down, tenses. She grips the bars tightly, her breathing quickening.
But I don't hold back, sliding my thick glans up and down to locate her vaginal opening, then thrusting in all at once.
"Hah… n, aahh! Ahh… too, deep… hng! Guh! …Nnah! Hah! Hah! Hah! Heh! Heh—!"
My unholy, vein-riddled green rod sinks into the smooth, white gap of her buttocks, a blasphemous sight that makes my heart race.
I haven't used her womb even once today.
Since she's accepted me so calmly, I treat her gently in return. She seems to understand this. Wonderful. It's communication, too. Through physical contact, she and I are connecting.
This fulfillment keeps my animalistic impulses in check.
Shaken by my thrusts, the bars rattle.
*Slippery, grinding,* I push past her vaginal folds, gently prodding her G-spot from behind, while reaching around to grab her breast, distorted between the bars.
Using my palm, I knead it gently, careful not to use my nails.
"——Hia."
I feel the plump fat distort in my hand, oozing between my fingers. I stroke its surface, pinching her hardened nipple to stimulate it.
I also cup her breast from below to ease the pain from my rough thrusts—an uncharacteristically skilled move for a Butcher.
"Hah—hah!? Haan♡ …Mmm! —Aah! Nnah! S-stop…! That, aahh!? Aahh! Nguhh——aahh! —Mmm! Ah, ah, ah, ah, ah, ah, ah—aahh! —Aahh!"
Her moans change in tone.
The blonde girl loves her breasts, especially when I thrust into her from behind while playing with her nipples. Her reaction is the best it's ever been. I feel fresh, hot mucus added to her honey pot.
Her overflowing vaginal fluids drip down to my testicles.
Her grip on the bars tightens, her hair tossed wildly as she clings to them, shaken by my piston-like movements.
"Aahh! Aahh! Aahh! Aahh—nnn…"
Nipples are delicate, so I'm careful not to crush or tear them, but seeing her writhe so cutely makes it worth it.
This is why I'm so obsessed with holding girls: it's communication.
Sex is wordless communication. By colliding bodies, rubbing membranes together, we achieve mutual understanding—a primal conversation.
You can understand why lonely me would get hooked. Maybe I'm a sex addict.
The blonde's hair sways with my thrusts. In a brief moment, I glimpse her beautiful nape, tracing it with my tongue. She quickly reaches orgasm.
"——Nnah♡ …Ah, aah… already… already, c-coming!? Aah, aah, aah, aah, aah, aah… aahh! Nnnghh—! ———!"
Her two buttocks clench tightly, squeezing my base from both sides.
Her fingers turn white as she grips the bars, her legs trembling before she collapses, powerless.
I ejaculate in sync with her climax, but since she's slumped over, more than half of it lands on her back and shoulders.
I finish the rest by hand, drizzling it over her blonde hair.
Another break.
After the bars… next, the wall. The wall is the destination.
With each break, I change the location and position.
This is crucial to deceive the monitoring eyes beyond the mirror.
When I started this new style yesterday, every time I gave the blonde a break, loud commands flooded my mind: *Violate her more, quicker!*
But I ignored them, and after repeating this style for a while, the monitors seem to have accepted my change in approach—no more complaints.
The aliens' perception of me as a peculiar Butcher likely worked in my favor. *Oh, he's up to something weird again. Oh well.* My usual good behavior paid off. Lucky.