Chapter 94

"Candy girl, hand over my candy."

Grace glared at the man holding a cigar.

Winston sat with his legs crossed in a chair, while she straddled the end of the table, her legs spread wide. As always, that man derived his twisted desires from making Grace feel ashamed.

"I've already paid. Oh, I don't need change."

The end of the cigar pointed to the black stocking band. A crisp banknote was tucked between the band and her thigh. The amount written on the note was excessively large for a single piece of candy.

If she were a candy girl selling candy in a cabaret, she might have been delighted at this windfall. But for Grace, who was trapped, the large sum of money was not only unnecessary but also insulting.

Moreover, calling her a candy girl was just a pretense; she was being treated like a vending machine.

The man tapped his wristwatch with his left hand, urging her. Grace glared at him and moved her hand, which was covering the space between her legs.

"Hmm..."

As soon as she pressed the 'vending machine button' with her fingertips, her body jolted. Her lower abdomen tightened, and the candies buried in her flesh vividly clattered.

But none of them showed any sign of coming out.

The simple principle of the vending machine, as that bastard had explained, was to keep pressing the button until the body expelled the candies. In other words, it meant to masturbate until she felt the number of orgasms equal to the number of candies.

Grace reluctantly moved her fingers while glaring at the man sitting across from her. Winston, who had been staring at her legs, smiled again when their eyes met, taking another puff of his cigar. He looked quite pleased.

'Yeah, that's the kind of guy he is.'

She had momentarily forgotten because he had been affectionate just a moment ago.

Winston leaned back in his chair, watching her. His posture made it seem like he was sitting in a luxurious leather chair, not a cheap metal one.

Though he was half-naked in black wool pants, he did not look cheap. From his broad shoulders to his chiseled, muscle-defined abdomen, he looked like a grand sculpture.

This made her feel even more debased as she moaned with primitive pleasure, her legs spread wide.

The man knew this better than anyone and never missed an opportunity to mock her.

"Ah, hmm..."

She covered her mouth with her left hand and bowed her head, rubbing between her legs. Suddenly, the man stood up. He leaned forward and gently pressed his lips to the back of her hand, which was covering her mouth.

It was a polite kiss, like one given to a lady's hand, but his eyes, which were close enough to feel his breath, were filled with mockery rather than respect.

"The great commander's woman and the noble princess of the royal family is putting on a masturbation show like a washed-up showgirl in front of this lowly pig of the monarchy."

Winston sat back down.

"I can't help but feel sorry."

She had never seen anyone express sympathy so vilely.

"Get rid of the washed-up one."

"You're still dreaming."

The man chuckled and pointed at Grace's legs with his eyes. To escape this ordeal, she had to finish quickly. Grace clenched her teeth and moved her hand.

But the more persistent his gaze became, the harder it was to bear. The pleasure that surged from her fingertips felt like a spark doused in cold water when she met his eyes, which were filled with mockery and excitement.

Just as she was about to close her legs out of shame, Winston reached out. He stopped just before the burning end of his cigar touched the tender flesh inside her thigh.

"Do you want to be a candy machine or an ashtray?"

Grace spread her legs even before his menacing warning was fully delivered. The man put the cigar back in his mouth and pushed her calf, which was hanging from the edge of the table, with his black shoe, spreading her legs even wider.

"You usually do this well. Why not today?"

This was different from before. It was not the same as when she forgot who she was, lost in the violent pleasure that stirred her insides. And Grace always regretted it, covering her face with her hands, blushing with shame, once she came to her senses.

"Hmm, I'll kill you... I'll send you to the guillotine, ah hmm!"

Leon chuckled. The woman, with his tie tied like a ribbon in her hair, bowed her head and muttered vicious curses.

She wasn't scary; she was cute.

It seemed she couldn't concentrate with him in front of her, as she closed her eyes tightly and frantically rubbed her clitoris, which was also cute.

Her plan to pretend to be alone seemed to be working. A little bit of her arousal fluid trickled out, wetting her vulva, and her inner walls parted. A bright red candy peeked out from the pink flesh.

"It's coming out. Just a little more, darling."

As soon as he encouraged her like he was supporting a wife in labor, the candy was sucked back in.

"Damn brat..."

The woman muttered a curse, and Leon laughed softly.

"Can't even do such a simple thing properly. Pathetic."

He threw the cigar into the ashtray and picked up a bottle of liquor. His Adam's apple bulged as he took a swig of the strong drink.

As soon as he put the bottle down, he bent his head between Grace's legs. The wet, alcohol-soaked lips pressed against her vulva, sending shivers down her spine.

"What are you doing, huh...?"

The feeling of soft flesh penetrating her insides was even more unfamiliar and strange. The moment his tongue circled the tender flesh of her vulva, Grace convulsed.

"Aah, stop!"

It was different from the brutal force of his penis. Each time his tongue delicately tickled her sensitive spots, it felt like a crack was spreading across her body, following the tingling sensation. The subtle pleasure was frightening.

His tongue, which had been teasing her vulva, plunged deeper and deeper. A slippery mass of flesh slid in and out, then suddenly pulled out.

The tongue, which had been moving slowly as if savoring the taste, suddenly sped up. It rubbed and prodded her inner walls, making wet friction sounds.

"Ah, it's so dirty..."

Her body convulsed. Her inner walls tightened, and the candies inside clattered.

The strength in her hand, which had been pushing his head between her legs, faded. Or rather, she had let it go.

Her vision flickered. Although the tongue moving inside her was incredibly soft, her breathing became uncontrollably rough. Not only did she feel this bizarre act, but she also enjoyed it. She found herself disgusting, but couldn't bring herself to stop.

The tongue, which had been digging into her flesh, finally found its target. The tip of the tongue curled inside and rolled out the candy. As soon as the candy emerged from her vulva, it rolled into the man's mouth.

The man kissed her as if her vulva were his lips, then stood up. He looked down at Grace's exhausted face with a satisfied smile and bowed his head.

Their lips met. The tongue that had been licking inside her now grazed her lips and the inside of her cheeks. The taste of cherry and rum spread in her mouth, making her nose tingle.

The man passed the candy, which he had only licked, to her and pulled away his lips. He pushed up the tie that had fallen to her forehead and carefully arranged her disheveled hair, as if he were treating a lover.

His hand, which had neatly tucked her hair behind her ear, moved to his back. When it reappeared, it held a wallet.

"One more."

Again, he was treating her like a prostitute. Another crisp banknote was tucked into the stocking band.

He was truly a man she could never like.

The man even kindly moved his hand from her inner thigh to her vulva. Grace glared at him with eyes that seemed not to belong to a human and moved her fingers. He lightly kissed her cheek, which was puffed out from the candy, and slid his lips down her neck.

The shirt covering her shoulder was pulled down. His lips grazed the exposed breast, leaving red marks like signatures on her pale skin. His lips clamped down on her nipple.

"Ah..."

She was clearly drunk, and her senses were dulled. But each time the flesh was sucked vigorously, the alcohol wore off, and her senses became sharply awake. At such times, even the timid movements of her hand on her clitoris felt overly stimulating.

The buttons on the bottom of her shirt began to pop open. The hand that had been sliding up her flat abdomen stopped when it reached a concave groove.

His palm pressed firmly on her shoulder. As Grace leaned her body to the side, a sucking sound was heard, and her nipple, which had been sucked, slipped out of his lips.

The man picked up the bottle and tilted it over her navel. Drip. Drip. The caramel-colored liquid dripped from the bottle's spout and pooled in her navel. He put the bottle down and bent his head.

"Pervert..."

A monster created by kneading intelligence, action, and twisted sexual desires, then covering it with the shell of an elegant human. That was the formula for making Leon Winston, the man.