Please Kill Me - Vol. 1 Chapter 2.4

Quiet and peaceful. Days followed with just the right warmth, making it impossible to feel any cold.

“It’s morning, Dahlia. The magnolias have bloomed in the front yard. Come, touch them.”

Upon waking up, just as long as it didn’t rain, he would bring me a flower branch, one by one, and place them in my hands. From within my lace-covered eyes, I recalled and recognized the white and delicate blossoms as a memory. Beautiful magnolias. They were one of the prideful features of Count Hindleton’s garden.

“After breakfast, let’s take a stroll to Secretia Woods. I’ve made a cart for you. I’ve laid down soft cushions. Spring is coming to Secretia Woods.”

And changes occurred within my body as well. Day by day, as I ate the food he provided, slept dreamless nights, I felt my body gradually transforming. Bit by bit, flesh started to accumulate on my cheeks and waist, filling my chest with a different plumpness each day.

“The rosy color flowing through your entire body makes you truly resemble a delicate Dahlia flower.”

In the morning, Lambert would comb my hair, just like adorning my eyes with delicate lace, and then he would intricately style my hair, gathering it together. Since returning to his side, everything felt so natural and profoundly fulfilling.

He spent the whole day feeding me, dressing me, bathing me, holding me close, letting me breathe in the outside air from the cart, basking in the sunlight, carefully lifting me up, laying me down on the bed, and putting me to nap. And when I woke up at the right time, he would feed me the next meal. On days when I ate too much and had trouble digesting, he would massage my feet. When he pressed the tender spots on the soles of my feet with his fingers, my stomach would feel relieved, allowing me to fall asleep comfortably.

As those days repeated, I became quite healthy. I felt a new energy surging within my body, as if I could walk on my own two feet. So, on a day when I finally made up my mind to try walking on my own two feet without Lambert helping me with great care, as if handling a baby bird with a broken leg, and when I assured him that I didn’t have to be lifted up.

Suddenly, a sharp and heavy pain struck my lower body, and I couldn’t exert any strength in my legs. The intention to get up from the bed and take a few steps vanished, replaced by a discomforting sensation as my waist gradually twisted. Unbeknownst to me, I found myself writhing in pain, groaning, unable to control my whole body.

“Dahlia, Dahlia!”

Lambert, who was coming towards me with a tray of food, held it with his own hands and approached me with a worried voice. His hand trembled as he touched my forehead to check my complexion.

“Where does it hurt? Why? Where does it hurt?”

“L-L-Leg… Waist… Stomach…”

The pain, at times bearable, became unpleasant and persistently tormented my legs, waist, and stomach, among other places. It felt as if a sudden heaviness and stiffness weighed upon my chest. I had a strange sensation of my body not being my own, trapped in a suffocating and oppressive feeling, longing to escape.

“Oh, Dahlia. I’ll bring a warm water bag, just wait a moment.”

While I writhed in agony, unable to properly comprehend what was happening within my body, Lambert seemed to have sensed it before me. He brought a warm water bag and placed it on my stomach. Then, he slowly removed my blood-soaked underwear that had become a mess from the blood flowing between my legs.

“Don’t be startled, Dahlia. It seems like you’re having menstrual cramps. I’ll brew some primrose tea for you. It would be good to place this between your legs.”

Something thick was placed between my legs. For a moment, I felt embarrassed, but the cotton pad touching me caused a tremor as it touched parts of my body that were now flowing out. He covered my abdomen with a blanket. Within it, my body continued to twist, and hot blood continued to flow.

Throughout that afternoon, he continuously handed me warm tea and replaced the things placed between my legs. Even though the morning flowers he picked for me hadn’t withered, he went out to the garden several times. Then he brought a fresh flower branch and placed it on my neck. All of it was both comforting and futile. I kept instinctively pressing my nose against the new flowers he brought because I sensed an unpleasant, slightly bitter scent emanating from me. And so, I became a woman.

* * *

The days of bleeding seemed longer than expected. The pain gradually subsided, but my mood remained unpleasant. Finally, when nothing more flowed between my legs, I felt the need to bathe myself again. Despite frequently changing my underwear and sheets, it seemed that bloodstains formed and hardened where I lay.

“Let’s soak your body in warm water and wash you, Dahlia.”

As if he had read my mind, he put me back in the bathtub. It was still embarrassing yet natural to become naked in front of him. He had already seen my intimate parts and knew the condition of my breast better than I did. Strangely, my breasts became incredibly sensitive, and even just changing clothes caused my nipples to protrude prominently.

“Your body is blooming, Dahlia. Like a flower, especially here.”

He said, brushing his fingertips along the ends of my two nipples. It was a different, trembling tone in his voice. Hearing those words, a deep blush spread across my cheeks. He caressed my face, which wore that expression.

Without anyone’s prompting, our lips drew closer. I couldn’t tell if it was my hot breath or his. He lightly bit the tip of my lips, as if nibbling on them.

“I want to devour you, Dahlia. But I won’t have you if you don’t want me to.”

He said in a firm voice. However, he couldn’t hide his trembling.

“Devour me, Lambert.”

It was permission. No, it was a request and a plea. A plea for him to devour me.

“Dahlia, I want to devour you and possess you. You are so beautiful.”

And he began to devour my lips. He sucked on my lower lip and then my upper lip separately. Then he inserted his tongue and licked the inside of my mouth. With every touch of his tongue, a flame ignited. Even though only my lips and mouth were being targeted, I felt my nipples stiffen and protrude. Unconsciously, I squeezed my own breasts and let out a moan.

“Haa, hoo…”

Lambert continued to lick and suck persistently, and in no time, he began to touch the raised part of my nipple with his thumb and forefinger. As if he was gauging its size. The more he touched, the more my nipple hardened and seemed to grow.

His mouth that was sucking on my lips finally moved to my swollen nipple as if it was about to burst. He twirled his tongue and slowly licked every ridge of my areola. A shivering sensation ran through my legs, and something clear and transparent began to accumulate, almost as if it was about to overflow.

“Haah, euuh…”

I couldn’t stop the sighs that kept breaking in my mouth. It gradually transformed into an arousing, seductive tone that I couldn’t prevent. Lambert had already filled his mouth with more than half of my breast and was sucking it forcefully. He sucked on my breasts as if he had become my baby, taking care of me.

“Fill me… down there… hoo…”

As he sucked on my breast, strangely enough, strange fluid like a wailing scream flowed from the hole inside my body. The desire to be filled by him burst out urgently. I spread my legs wide open. There was no shame left in me since he had already witnessed everything flowing out from within.

I believed he would be the same. Although I couldn’t see with my own eyes, during my time in Hildesreville, where I lived dying every day, I heard the disturbing sounds of men devouring women and forcefully penetrating them. So I thought Lambert would also urgently tear me apart and enter me. I clenched my teeth. I was prepared.

“Haa, Lambert… haa…”

But what immediately filled my valley was his tongue. His tongue licked up and sucked on the liquid that couldn’t help but flow out. It made me beg for more.

“Hoo, it feels so good. But tear me… apart, please…”

Between the wet petals that soaked and dried as desired, I begged him with his tongue teasing the prominent bud. Since I was defiled, I pleaded for him to delve deeply. My inner wall had already been torn apart from hearing such harsh words.

My mother was right that no one would touch me if I remained filthy and crumpled, and therefore I would be safe. And she was wrong. I wasn’t safe. I was twisted, and I was defeated.

However, Lambert’s touch, his care, and the current caress and licking melted and dissolved me. I transformed from a being engulfed in flames, distorted and twisted, emitting only a foul stench, into a single blooming flower petal.

“I don’t want to hurt you. I want to make you happy.”

Lambert whispered in my ear. With his tongue retracted, he spoke softly while slipping a finger into my wet and crying orifice, gauging the flowing liquid.

The sound of my essence gushing could be heard, and I found myself pleading again due to the heat emanating from Lambert’s lips as he began to devour my earlobe.

“It’s okay to hurt me, Lambert. I can endure the pain. But I can’t bear my emptiness any longer. Fill me up quickly. Tear me apart and take me, please.”

Lambert’s finger seemed to be exploring the path inside me. Each time he touched a certain part of my inner wall, I cried out more roughly. Biting my earlobe was not enough. Even the probing of his finger didn’t satisfy my desires.

“It will hurt. I don’t want to hurt you.”

“No, Lambert. Devour me, please.”

Finally, the longest part of his body emerged from his form and made contact with my hole. As his finger slipped out, my damp and trembling petals yearningly clung to his round and thick end.

“Ah!”

My inner wall, which seemed to have created enough space with the finger, suddenly tightened and was completely filled by something thick and robust. I didn’t feel any tearing pain. The moment it entered, his member reached deep within my walls, stimulating the sensitive spot that released a gushing stream of liquid. From the first penetration, I was overwhelmed.

“Haa, don’t stop. Keep filling me.”

Faster than expected, Lambert filled and thrust into me, then forcefully withdrew, only to repeat the process again. The bed creaked, and the sound of the fluids I expelled echoed fiercely in my ears.

The overwhelming sensation that reached the core of my being bestowed upon me an immense fire that made me want to swallow it all. Accepting him gave me an unparalleled sense of satisfaction, as if I had been waiting and living for this moment my entire life.

“I can’t hold back, Dahlia. I’m sorry… for the pain… Huuu… Please bear with it a little longer. I’ll finish quickly.”

He didn’t finish quickly. He continued thrusting into me. Counting became meaningless as it surpassed ten, twenty, and thirty times. I screamed with ecstasy, not moans. I had never realized that my voice could be so loud and lascivious. Lambert’s pace became just as rough as my voice.

“I feel like I’m going to explode inside you. I can’t hold it any longer, Dahlia. Hoo. You’re too hot.”

Already in a daze, I simply wished for him to release everything. I was being ravaged at the peak of pleasure, reduced to a state of utter destruction. However, I couldn’t remember when he finally erupted. At the climax of intense pleasure, I lost consciousness.