Chapter 48

The catastrophic, lightning-strike of pure agony followed a half-second later.

“HAAAAAAAAH!!”

The bedsheets, already shredded by Grondil’s claws, were instantly crushed in Lino’s death grip. This was an entirely different dimension of pain compared to the initial breach of his entrance. While the pure physical agony might have been marginally less, the psychological horror was absolute and overwhelming.

The terrifying certainty that his internal organs had just been irreparably mutilated. The paralyzing, apocalyptic panic induced by the realization that it was a beast’s cock that had just ruptured his insides. Lino was instantly plunged into sheer, unadulterated hysteria.

Ripping his hands free from the sheets, Lino dug his nails violently into Grondil’s forearms and shoulders, frantically clawing and shoving. While human fingernails were utterly useless against the beast’s thick fur and hide, Grondil, desiring a smoother, unimpeded plunge, simply swept his tail forward, wrapping it securely around both of Lino’s wrists and binding them instantly.

Saliva streaming uncontrolled from his mouth, his eyes rolling back in half-conscious delirium, Lino babbled a stream of desperate denials. No, not there. It’s dangerous. I hate it. Pull it out. I’ll just take the punishment. Don’t go inside. Get out of me. Please…

However, in stark contradiction to his endless verbal rejections, Lino’s member had been caught in a relentless, continuous loop of full erection and violent ejaculation for an eternity. Neither Lino nor Grondil had any idea how many times he had spilled. Grondil was consumed entirely by the singular, maddening obsession to bury his cock deep into this mysterious, anomalous organ and unleash a torrential flood of his seed, while Lino, utterly helpless against the sensation of his stomach being stretched to the point of detonation, could only weep endlessly. His semen continued to erupt in pathetic spurts.

“Haa… fuck. You’re… fucking insane… ngh, haah…”

Experiencing a dimension of euphoria entirely unprecedented in his centuries of life, Grondil ground his teeth audibly, his hips trembling violently. An incredibly vulgar curse nearly slipped past his lips. Perhaps he actually had muttered it during the split second his brain short-circuited.

Every single hair on his body stood on end. What is this? He needed to thrust deeper to truly understand it. And he needed to… feel the interior with absolute, undeniable certainty. He reached down, placing his massive hand flat against Lino’s taut lower abdomen. Beneath the beautifully sculpted abdominal muscles, the distinct, terrifying shape of Grondil’s own cock was clearly visible. When he pulled back, the stomach hollowed; when he violently buried it to the hilt, a shockingly distinct, thick volume swelled beneath the skin. He was certain he had thrust deep enough to reach past the navel, yet the bizarre, bulging mass was isolated entirely below the belly button.

Which means… I have penetrated a secondary organ hidden within him.

The beast’s eyes were utterly consumed by an eerie, abyssal heat. His primal instincts screamed at him to flood this hidden chamber entirely with his seed. A terrifying, overwhelming lust he had never once encountered in any previous rut violently spurred Grondil onward.

He pressed down hard on Lino’s stomach, aggressively massaging the mysterious organ. The pressure robbed Lino of his ability to even scream; his mouth simply opened and closed in silent agony. His glazed, unfocused eyes stared blankly at the violently spinning ceiling. The strength completely evaporated from his thrashing legs. His hands, bound securely by the tail, clenched into violent, desperate fists before slowly falling limp. His chest, which had been heaving erratically as if about to explode, settled into a frightening stillness, and his unfocused eyes were finally veiled by his closing eyelids.

Without even realizing he was losing consciousness, Lino plummeted into total darkness.

Smack, smack, squelch, smack.

The bedroom was filled exclusively with the sound of Grondil’s ragged panting and the heavy, wet collision of soaked fur against flesh. The moment Lino lost consciousness, the desperate, agonizing tension in his internal walls vanished. With the violent resistance gone, Grondil effortlessly and brutally buried his cock to the absolute maximum depth into the mysterious chamber.

“Hnnngh…!”

The black and white whiskers bristling around the beast’s snout all pitched sharply forward. Squeezing his eyes shut and contorting his face in a mask of pure, concentrated ecstasy, he focused entirely on the ejaculation. He had to flood this chamber until absolutely nothing remained. He had to fulfill the fundamental biological imperative of the mating.

“Ngh, haah…”

A tiny, fragile moan slipped from the unconscious Lino’s lips. Given that he had fainted, he shouldn’t have been able to process the trauma being inflicted upon his body, yet thick tears continuously leaked from his closed eyes, streaming down his temples.

Without warning, Grondil’s glans—encased tightly within the mysterious organ—violently engorged, and the previously concealed, abrasive papillae suddenly erupted across its surface. The barbs, identical to the ones coating his tongue, angled backward in a vicious hook. As the glans mutated, the root of his cock, buried to the hilt, also swelled massively. Acting precisely like a cork driven into a bottle, it ballooned spherically inside the entrance, creating an absolute, airtight seal to ensure not a single drop of the ejaculated semen could ever escape.

“Urk, hah, ah, ahh…”

Lino sobbed brokenly. Had he been conscious, the horrific, agonizing sensation of his lower abdomen literally tearing apart would have undoubtedly caused him to scream until his vocal cords shredded.

“Haha, what in the world is this. Truly…”

Grondil was utterly astounded. He had never once in his entire life performed a ‘knotting,’ yet he was currently executing the primal biological lock in the most unexpected location, with the most impossible partner.

The ejaculation continued for an eternity. Lino’s stomach, which had initially shown only a faint outline of Grondil’s cock, slowly and visibly distended into a smooth, rounded mound. Grondil locked his arms tightly around Lino and remained perfectly, unnaturally still. If he moved and the knotted cock shifted even a fraction of an inch, it would undoubtedly cause catastrophic internal hemorrhaging within Lino’s organs. He had to remain locked until enough time passed for the semen to be fully absorbed before the swelling would recede. The biological knotting process—designed for absolute, guaranteed conception—was an instinctual imperative that even Grondil could not override.

“What a predicament.”

Offering a bemused, slightly helpless smile, Grondil finally shifted. Pressing down firmly on Lino’s buttocks with both hands to ensure the knot remained perfectly stabilized, he carefully flipped their positions. Lino was now sprawled face-down, using Grondil’s massive chest as a mattress.

Lino continued to whimper softly, clearly still suffering from severe internal abdominal pain. Given that an astronomical volume of semen had been pumped into him until his stomach audibly distended, and he had been flipped onto his stomach without the knot being released, the pressure was undoubtedly agonizing. However, Grondil was so profoundly satisfied by the weight of Lino sprawled helplessly atop him that he let out a low, rumbling purr.

Intoxicated by the incredibly satisfying sex, the beast continued to vibrate with a deep, continuous purr. The corners of his closed maw curled upward into a distinct smirk, revealing the sharp glint of his fangs.

He gently brushed Lino’s sweat-drenched, tangled bangs backward, exposing the pale, rounded forehead.

Grondil’s gaze drifted lazily, meticulously cataloging the devastation mapped across Lino’s body. The deep crease between his brows from lingering pain; the eyes swollen grotesquely from endless crying; the lips bitten raw and bleeding; the nape and shoulders scratched and chafed raw by the beast’s abrasive tongue.

There were distinct bite marks littering his wrists and the backs of his hands. His palms were a violent red, likely from tearing so desperately at the bedsheets. Even sprawled on his stomach, his beautifully plump buttocks were a furious, swollen red, and the side Grondil had viciously slapped was already blooming into a horrifying, mottled bruise.

To any objective observer, it was a profoundly pitiful, tragic sight, yet Grondil felt an overwhelming surge of satisfaction. Every single mark was a brand he had personally inflicted; every bruise was a direct result of him. Furthermore, the ravenous gluttony and lust that had consumed him during the peak of the act were now utterly, blissfully satiated.

He had known the knight for barely a month, and they had engaged in penetrative sex a grand total of two times. Once the search for the Letia concluded, this was a relationship destined to end permanently, yet he found himself questioning if it was truly acceptable to be this deeply infatuated.

“Ah, right. The mark.”

Grondil bolted upright with highly uncharacteristic panic. Perfectly timed, the knot finally receded, and the biological lock released. Instantly, a massive torrent of scalding hot fluid gushed from the obscenely overstretched entrance. It was the vast surplus of Grondil’s semen that Lino’s body had been physically unable to absorb.

To verify the presence of the mark, Grondil gently laid Lino flat on his back. He conducted a meticulous, inch-by-inch inspection, scrutinizing everything from Lino’s armpits and the webbing between his fingers and toes to the shell of his ears and his scalp.

“As I suspected… nothing.”

Gathering the mottled, flushed body back into his arms, Grondil acknowledged his own blunder. The mark was known to manifest at the absolute zenith of sexual ecstasy. This was a critical detail Grondil, Enoch, and Erin had independently verified while cross-referencing clues about the Letia.

That was precisely why he had ordered Yuneria to masturbate.

Today, Lino had ejaculated multiple times and reached a level of euphoria far exceeding anything ordinary. Grondil had possessed countless opportunities to check for the mark, yet he had entirely missed them. It was a spectacular failure on his part.

However, he didn’t feel particularly troubled. I can simply do this again tomorrow, can I not?

It’s barely been a month. One attempt is hardly enough to yield results.

If the mark didn’t appear, he would simply keep trying until it did. If he eventually uncovered it, he would hand the boy over to the impotent Emperor of the Cartia Empire.

“……”

The tail that had been swishing lazily in post-coital satisfaction suddenly froze stiff.

That impotent Emperor’s spawn is going to take root in this body, currently drenched in my own scent…?

A violent, inexplicable surge of irritation twisted Grondil’s gut, causing him to blink in sheer disbelief. The profound satisfaction he had luxuriated in moments ago instantly curdled into foul resentment. It felt viscerally as though something intrinsically his was being stolen.

“He is mine.”

Grondil stared down at Lino, who had succumbed to exhaustion and was breathing in soft, ragged wheezes. The sight of those pale, soft cheeks buried deep in his chest fur was incredibly endearing.

Why on earth did they attach such a horrendous photograph to his file?

Recalling the document photo, Grondil clicked his tongue in disgust. The conviction that the picture was a criminal misrepresentation of reality grew stronger every day. In stark contrast, Yuneria’s photograph had actually been vastly superior to the reality; in print, he had at least appeared innocent and demure.

“Ngh… it’s cold…”

Lino shivered violently, burrowing deeper into Grondil’s embrace. Is it cold? Grondil flared his nostrils, scenting the air. Beneath the heavy, metallic tang of semen, the lingering heat of the summer sun was still palpable. Summer in the northern nations was notoriously brisk, yet Lino hailed from the Hestin Kingdom, situated even further north than Zetina. He should have been accustomed to far cooler summers.

Concluding that the boy’s body temperature had plummeted from the physical trauma of absorbing his monstrous rut, Grondil swept his gaze around the devastated bedchamber in search of blankets. While his claws had shredded the sheets and mattress to ribbons, the heavy duvet had miraculously survived, crumpled like a discarded loofah against the headboard.

He dragged the duvet over with his tail, blanketing both himself and Lino. He briefly considered wrapping Lino up alone, but the thought of losing contact with that incredibly soft, pliant skin was too disappointing.

Pillowing Lino’s head on one arm beneath the covers, he wrapped his other arm tightly around the knight’s back. Deliberately, he wedged one of his thick legs intimately between Lino’s thighs. Kneading the semen-slicked buttocks one last time, Grondil finally closed his eyes. He wasn’t particularly exhausted, but having unleashed his true form and engaged in such a phenomenally satisfying rut, he felt assured of excellent dreams.

***