Chapter 1: A Netorare Scene Unlike Any Other (1)

A Netorare Scene Unlike Any Other (1)

A moonless, stifling summer night.

In a lavish bedroom lit by a single lamp, King Issak lies quietly, his breathing steady in slumber.

Queen Mina rests her hands on the bed, leaning in to gaze into Issak’s face.

Her flowing golden hair brushes gently against his chest.

“Ah.”

Suddenly, a hand grazes Mina’s rear.

A warm breath escapes her lips, spilling onto Issak’s face.

Behind her, her lover Lovecraft watches with a sly, grinning leer.

Mina’s voice trembles through Lovecraft’s ears, pleasure so sharp, it almost hurts.

She holds nothing back in her voice.

Because she knows Issak will not wake.

After all, she had served him tea laced with sleeping pills herself.

Tonight, she had used more than usual.

Which is why, even as another man holds her above Issak’s face and she weeps with joy, it doesn’t matter.

The queen is being taken, right on top of the king.

Issak continues to breathe quietly.

But in truth, he’s stifling what must be his twelfth or thirteenth yawn of the night.

He isn’t sleeping at all.

The sleeping pills had no effect.

The yawns aren’t from drowsiness, but from sheer boredom.

This isn’t the first time Mina has joined with her lover in front of him. They’ve done so more times than he can count on both hands.

Issak is the king of this realm.

Yet he’s never said a word. And he has no intention of doing so now.

Tonight is no different.

All he needs to do is keep pretending to sleep.

Only tonight, it’s harder than usual.

Mina is closer than she’s ever been.

Before, at most, she’d rest a hand on the bed. But tonight, her face hovers just inches from his.

Perhaps the extra dose in the tea was because she wanted something more intense.

Regardless, he can’t let them know he’s awake.

If he’s discovered, everything he’s been working on behind the scenes could fall apart.

So Issak focuses, more intently than ever, keeping even the movement of his nostrils under strict control as he feigns sleep.

“Aahhh!”

Mina arches her back with a shrill cry, and in that motion, her left hand falls over Issak’s.

Their wedding rings meet with a soft, fleeting chime.

In that instant, a shiver of dread runs down Issak’s spine.

“Kill me.”

Mina’s voice.

Issak stiffens, but maintains his quiet, even breathing.

“Kill meee!!”

Mina screams.

Issak has seen their affairs many times, but he’s never witnessed Mina unravel like this.

Perhaps things are more heated than usual tonight.

Yet the chill in his body only deepens, slowly, steadily.

What’s happening? Or… what’s about to happen?

Issak lets his eyes open, just barely.

He sees Mina’s face, melted in ecstasy, blurred by half-lidded vision.

She’s looking at him. But her eyes are unfocused.

Even so, she continues to cry out, “Kill me,” directed right at him.

The wrongness in her expression nearly makes Issak gasp aloud.

Her eyes are glowing.

A strange, eerie violet, flickering, as if alive and breathing.

Seeing this for the first time, Issak nearly forgets to keep up the act.

But Mina isn’t the only one who’s changed.

Lovecraft is different too.

Normally, he wears a sadistic smirk as he enjoys watching Mina unravel.

But tonight is different.

He’s letting out low, guttural cries, gou gou, like a beast in rut.

It’s unclear whether he even remembers who he’s with.

The air in the room has shifted.

The scent has changed.

It reeks like the inside of a predator’s cage, and Issak finds it hard to breathe.

The sounds of their panting no longer seem human.

Mina’s sweat, her tears, her saliva, they fall on Issak’s face as she reaches out to touch him.

Thud. Something lands beside Issak’s ear.

Something long. Heavy.

He shifts his gaze slightly beneath his half-lidded eyes and sees the hilt of a sword.

“Do it. Kill him.”

Lovecraft speaks, his voice flushed with his own grandeur.

Issak hears the moment Mina holds her breath.

“What are you saying?”

Her voice is sharp now, snapped from her trance, thick with reproach.

But Lovecraft only grows more thrilled, commanding her again.

“Kill him.”

“I could never do that!”

“Then I suppose there’s no helping it.”

Lovecraft smirks sadistically and pulls away from her body.

“Ah…”

Mina’s eyes, which had been glaring at him moments ago, now follow his retreat with reluctant longing.

He runs a hand over her rear, and she shudders in delight.

Her eyes are nearly devoid of reason or pride.

“If you want me, then kill the king.”

Mina clenches her teeth, resisting with the last of her will.

But with one slow, slippery stroke over her backside, the final trace of her queenly resolve dissolves completely.