Little Pink Starfish

He squeezed his eyes shut, but even that didn’t help—he had to open them again. When he closed his eyes, the sensation of the round, hard fruit forcibly spreading him and being inserted felt even more intense. As Amon had said, compared to his member, it was nothing, and yet it only felt frightening and uncomfortable. After inserting about three, he ended up sobbing and pleading to Amon pitifully.

“H-hic, if they don’t come out like this… wh-what should I…”

“So that’s what you were so worried about. In that case, wouldn’t it be good to put something else in together?”

He shook his head belatedly, but Amon seemed to have taken a liking to the game of using Nyne as a vessel. Nyne, terrified, watched as Amon left and brought something back. What Amon held in his hand was the most precious item among Nyne’s belongings—a decorative box he had placed in the bedroom. Amon opened the box and dumped its contents onto the bed. The first thing Nyne’s eyes caught was a necklace carved in the shape of a hawk. The pointed wing tips and beak looked especially sharp now.

If something like that were inserted, it was certain his insides would be torn to shreds. Just imagining himself bleeding below and needing treatment from a healing priest was horrific. Fortunately, Amon didn’t touch the sharp or angular ornaments. Among the dozens of accessories, the one he picked up was a pearl necklace.

It was less a necklace and more like a string of pearls kept as material for repairing damaged jewelry or decorating clothes. Because it was for Charle, the pearls were especially large, and today of all days, Nyne resented that fact. He would have been better off not seeing it at all. Not wanting something like that inserted, Nyne made another futile attempt at resistance. Shaking his head side to side, he asked in a trembling voice.

“Lord Amon, do you… do you enjoy tormenting me?”

“You think I’m tormenting you?”

At Nyne’s question, Amon instead smiled, the corners of his mouth lifting. Charruk—a soft sound rang out, and the pearl necklace was pushed in along with his fingers. Without inserting it all the way, Amon withdrew his fingers, and then another fruit was pressed in firmly.

“Ah, ah…!”

The sensation of small and large fruits being pushed in one after another, regardless of Nyne’s own will, was tormenting. Each time a fairly large one entered, his tightly shut eyes would spring open in surprise, and his eyebrows trembled. His stomach, swelling with things that shouldn’t be inside, felt unbearably uncomfortable, and he bit his lip. All he wanted was for this to end quickly—but then Amon pressed firmly on his perineum. At that action, an involuntary gasp escaped his lips.

“Look at this.”

Nyne’s eyes wavered as he looked down at Amon’s fingers moving up from his perineum, past his testicles. Despite having already climaxed several times, he was once again fully erect, and the tip of his member was wet with precum.

“You’re enjoying it this much… So this isn’t torment, but rather something that gives you pleasure, isn’t it?”

Amon stirred the inside of the vessel—now filled with fruit and pearls—with his fingers. The round beads knocked against each other, tapping against the inner walls. As Nyne trembled from the stimulation, his thighs involuntarily drawing together, Amon pushed them apart with his arms and spoke with apparent delight.

“So then, this too can’t really be called punishment, can it?”

After hearing those words, Nyne finally realized that rather than suffering from the feeling of his belly being filled, he was starting to crave being filled even more. Unable to deny it, his lips parted slightly, then he slowly closed his eyes. He couldn’t refute the pleasure he was feeling. From the beginning until now, none of this was something he had wanted—so why was his body responding so obediently, even enjoying it?

“I’ve set the table, so now it’s time to enjoy the delicacy.”

Saying so, Amon flipped Nyne’s body over and lifted his hips. In an instant, Nyne was on all fours with only his rear raised, and his face flushed with shame. He clenched his teeth, thinking that this too was something he had to endure if he wanted everything taken out. But just then, something warm and moist slowly licked his perineum. Nyne’s body jolted as if struck by lightning.

“Ah, Lord Amon! What are you doing, ah!”

Because of the overwhelming shock, Nyne’s mouth opened wide, and soon moans kept pouring out. Amon used his hand to spread and caress the exposed private part. He used his lips and tongue to explicitly suck the perineum with audible sounds, then moved upward. Anticipating what would come next, Nyne struggled violently for the first time.

“No, don’t do it, Lord Amon, please, please…!”

Again, the pleading was of no use. The tongue, feeling even more unfamiliar due to its lukewarm temperature, licked the rear. Pleading again, begging to be released, Nyne sobbed, rubbing his forehead against the bed. It had been a shock when Amon performed oral service, but it was nothing compared to now.

“Hhng, uh, ah…!”

The feeling of the tongue finally pushing in, wetting the rear, sent shivers all the way up to the crown of his head. Supporting his upper body with bound wrists, barely enduring it, Nyne was teased as Amon violated his rear as he pleased.

“Ah, aaah! Aah!”

His toes curled from the unbearable sensation. It felt mortifying enough to die, and yet, he couldn’t escape the unfamiliar pleasure unlike anything he had ever experienced. With his head buried in the bed, Nyne could see his own fully erect member in view. Pre-ejaculate slowly dripped from the urethral plug, at times drawing thin lines and wetting the blanket.

“Strange, it’s strange…, Lord Amon, hhk, ah….”

Curling his toes wasn’t enough—he stomped his feet. Everything felt so strange. The pleasure he felt in such a humiliating situation was strange, and the fact that he was feeling it even while being punished made him think—just as Lord Amon said—that maybe this wasn’t punishment at all. That thought itself felt strange.

The strangest thing of all was Amon’s tongue.

Is a tongue supposed to be this long?

Can it really reach this deep? Amon’s tongue dug into the inner wall, pressing and licking in a way that brought rising, throbbing pleasure. Then it caught hold of the pearl necklace positioned near the entrance. When he bit it and gave a sharp pull, Nyne’s body jolted as if struck by lightning.

Even the moans spilling from his own mouth felt strange and unfamiliar. He had never made sounds like this before. His mind turned blank and white—he couldn’t think at all. As the necklace was pulled out, one fruit bead came out along with it. Amon bit down on the fruit emerging from the flushed red entrance.

When his teeth left a mark, juice dripped down onto the skin. Amon rolled the wet, red fruit bead around in his mouth with a shadowy gleam in his eyes, then swallowed it whole without even chewing. His throat moved as he gulped down the round fruit, teeth marks still visible on it.

Nyne, sobbing while lying face-down, didn’t see any of this.

Then, as the necklace was pulled out, the fruit beads rolled out one by one. Amon either crushed the seeds and ate them or swallowed them whole without even leaving bite marks. In between, as the pearl necklace slipped out, he licked the stretched entrance and inner walls greedily and lewdly, making Nyne scream.

From the middle on, this bizarre act left Nyne speechless—he just cried like he was out of his mind, his body trembling from the pleasure, letting out nothing but moans.

After that slow, drawn-out, decadent time, the pearl necklace finally came all the way out. Amon licked the fruit juice off Nyne’s skin and bit down on the pearl necklace. With each crunch of the pearls being crushed between his molars—kaduk, kaduk—Nyne’s body flinched every time.

“Seeing how much you enjoyed this, it seems what you said was a lie after all.”

Having crushed and eaten the pearl necklace down to the last piece, Amon turned over Nyne, who lay limp. His lower belly was messily soaked with semen. Amon licked even that away without leaving a trace. Wherever his tongue passed, a dusting of pearl powder shimmered faintly.

Then, he looked down quietly at Nyne, who was breathing heavily.

“Truly, aren’t you lovely?”

Amon spoke as if entranced by Nyne. He gently brushed away the tears from Nyne’s eyes, gazing at the eyes the same color as his own, as if he found them dear.

Even while crying, Nyne thought absently:
Does someone like you even understand what it means to find something lovable?

“My precious, precious treasure.”

Amon whispered tenderly as he wiped the tear-soaked cheek with his fingers—only for it to be wet again. He blinked slowly.

“My eternal delicacy, beautiful and fragrant.”

Nyne turned his head to the side, tightly shutting both his eyes and mouth. Even after being licked and wiped, the tears kept streaming down his face, and a look of puzzlement rose on Amon’s face.

“Why are you crying? Did it hurt?”

When Nyne gave no answer and only continued to quietly cry, Amon reached behind him. His fingers slid inside, gently feeling the inner walls. There was only slight swelling—no sign of injury or bleeding. He untied the cloth binding Nyne’s wrists. Though the elegant fabric had left clear marks on his wrists, there were no wounds.

In the end, Amon couldn’t figure out why Nyne was crying. He kept touching his body to find where it might hurt, but Nyne buried his face in the bed completely, avoiding him. Amon silently watched him—curled up and turned away—then stood up.

When he stepped outside the tent, people were still bowing low to the ground with their foreheads pressed down. Without even sparing them a glance, Amon raised his hand.

“Iyad.”

“Yes, Sha Amon.”

Osen Iyad, who had been prostrating himself, rose and approached on his knees. Amon’s gaze toward the old high priest was indifferent and cold, as if he were looking at a worthless insect. Feeling that gaze, the high priest swallowed dryly.

“Burn the incense.”