A Pervert’s Reward

“Saranya, take off your armor. It’s hot in here.”

“Alright…”

“What is this?”

“Ointment…”

Kaelan pried open the ointment box in Saranya’s hand, dabbed a small amount onto her pinky finger, and brought it close to her nose to sniff.

“Hmm… Paresha, what good is this trash, anyway?”

Paresha, hearing her name, trembled, gritted her teeth, and crawled a short distance towards Kaelan.

“That’s for Saranya’s injuries! You just tormented her so much…”

“Saranya and I will play however we please. It’s none of your concern!”

Kaelan’s expression turned instantly frigid; she clearly disliked Paresha’s complaining tone.

“Miss Priestess, I didn’t expect you to become so arrogant after a short time apart…”

“I—”

“You spoke disrespectfully to me in the manor, and you laid hands on me. Did you think I’d forgotten? Just because you took a trip to the Desolate Zone, you suddenly fancy yourself a mature warrior? You admire my Saranya so much, why don’t you learn from her humble character?!”

‘Lay hands… on me…?’

Hearing that phrase, Saranya likewise furrowed her brow at Paresha, keen to hear her explanation.

“The situation was urgent then, and I did lay hands on you, I admit… I admit I was wrong…”

A brief silence descended. Seeing that neither party wished to continue the conversation, Saranya gently nudged her mistress’s shoulder and softly offered a plea:

“Kaelan, Paresha brought me the ointment, and her abilities will be very helpful for our future plans. Besides, what she did did bring you back to me…”

“So I should thank her, should I? Thank her for stepping on me with her boots, thank her for setting her sights on you, thank her for sneaking in to meet you while I was asleep?!”

“I didn’t! I truly didn’t…”

Before Saranya could even respond, Paresha immediately denied Kaelan’s assertion.

“Tsk.”

The young witch narrowed her eyes, her gaze fixed on the trembling Paresha on the floor, as if she had already seen through everything.

“Miss Priestess… don’t hide it. You’re clearly harboring a sliver of hope, thinking your pitiful charm might somehow overshadow mine, that you could steal away a tiny piece of Saranya’s heart. You fantasize that even after she’s been graced by my favor, she might still spare a thought for you, occasionally tossing you a few crumbs of affection… Am I wrong?”

“…”

Paresha remained silent, and Saranya, witnessing this, could no longer bear it:

“Paresha, speak! My mistress is overthinking, isn’t she? You couldn’t possibly harbor such foolish thoughts…”

“I… I… I’m sorry… Teacher Kaelan… I won’t do it again… I wouldn’t dare… I want to stay by your side and Saranya’s, please don’t send me away…”

Paresha’s voice was choked with tears as she confessed her wrongdoing, her kneeling posture pressing even lower to the ground.

Saranya watched, startled, her eyes widening slightly.

‘The witch’s intuition was terrifyingly sharp, she mused.’

Kaelan let out a cold scoff, yet a hint of softening appeared in her expression:

“That’s more like it. A pervert should be content to remain a pervert; don’t even dream of interfering in Saranya’s and my relationship… As long as you dutifully serve us, Saranya and I might even, if we’re pleased, indulge your twisted desires a little, perhaps?”

“Y-yes… Please, by all means…”

“Mistress!”

Unable to bear Paresha’s humiliation, Saranya interjected loudly, wishing to plead for the unfortunate girl before her, to salvage some last shred of her dignity:

“Not enough, not nearly enough, Saranya. Today, your mistress will teach you how to properly exploit the desires of a pathetic worm…”

Kaelan leaned forward, her naturally beautiful, delicate, and pure features twisting into a smile brimming with wicked charm.

“Miss Paresha, while you are a disgusting pervert, human desires must ultimately be satisfied, mustn’t they? You brought the ointment, so let’s not let your efforts go to waste. I shall put it to good use on your behalf…”

“Saranya, spread your legs.”

“What?!”

Saranya sat on the bed, directly opposite the kneeling Paresha. Her mistress’s command for such an act left its meaning unmistakably clear.

“Spread them!”

“Mmm…”

Saranya, her eyes brimming with tears, struggled to part her legs. Paresha, instantly aroused, lifted her head, casting a dark, yearning gaze upon her.

“Saranya… Sister… I’m sorry…”

An intense wave of shame caused her entire body to tremble violently, her heart pounding wildly. The thin fabric between her legs, not yet dry, was once again moistened by fresh fluids, and a faintly sour, girlish scent began to permeate the air.

Before Saranya could compose herself, Kaelan spoke again:

“Do you want to take it off yourself, or shall I help you?”

“M-myself…”

“Then take it off.”

Saranya’s face flushed crimson, and with eyes half-open in shame and anger, she gently peeled off the scrap of fabric, holding it in her hand as if it were a ticking bomb.

The next second, a sudden chill swept across her lower abdomen, startling her into a silent scream:

“Ah…!”

It was Kaelan. Her mistress abruptly lifted Saranya’s long shirt, exposing her lower body entirely to Paresha, who was at a distance. Saranya, meanwhile, had already squeezed her eyes shut, utterly unable to face the priestess.

“Drip.”

“Drip.”

After a long moment, she opened her eyes again, and immediately saw Paresha’s face, flushed a deep purple. Two vivid crimson streams erupted from the priestess’s nostrils, dripping steadily downwards, forming warm, fragmented patterns on the floor.

Paresha seemed to momentarily faint, tumbling backward onto the floor, but then she scrambled back up, ignoring the nosebleed, and awkwardly knelt again, resuming her appraisal of Saranya’s shapely physique.

A cool sensation spread across her body; Kaelan was applying the ointment to her torn wounds.

Her mistress performed many extra movements; rather than simply applying medicine, it felt more like caresses, deliberately performed for Paresha across from them, thereby asserting her dominance.

“Only with my explicit permission may you be so presumptuous. If I ever catch you sneaking off to see Saranya again, I will abandon you without hesitation, kicking you into a gutter like a dead dog, leaving you a pathetic wretch with nothing. Then you will surely… surely regret it… Do you understand, little pervert Paresha?!”

Kaelan emphasized her words at the end, her voice like a thunderclap rousing Paresha. The humbled girl quickly nodded:

“Yes! I understand…”

“Then, Saranya and I will henceforth be your masters, jointly managing your desires. Do you accept?”

“I accept… Hee… heehee… Wuwu… Hahahahaha… I accept! I accept!!! My Masters… my Lords…”

The girl who was once so innocent and carefree had now willingly debased herself to such a state. Saranya was speechless, a wave of sorrow swelling in her heart.

‘This was the witch, a witch who delighted in manipulating and corrupting others. This was her mistress.’

She lowered her head, gazing at her own body, which was in a state of utter excitement, and sighed softly, as if resigned to her fate.

‘She, too, had now been stained with her mistress’s colors.’

Beside her, Kaelan snapped the ointment box shut, her lips curving upward into a smile of triumphant cunning.

“Excellent. This is your reward.”

Without Kaelan needing to prompt her, a mere glance was enough for Saranya to understand her mistress’s intent. Steeling herself, she picked up the triangular scrap of fabric in her hand and threw it forcefully towards Paresha.

“Ahhh… Ahahahahaha!”

Paresha reacted as if she had found a treasure, leaping forward in a save-like motion to clutch the fabric to her chest.

“Well then, little pervert Paresha, you must continue to behave well to earn even more rewards, hmm?”

“Uhm… This is wonderful… Thank you… Thank you, my two Masters… Little pervert Paresha… will certainly strive to please…”