Volume 7 Chapter 12 Beastman Daughter And Mother ②
Edited by: Kanaa-senpai
”Unnh—” Georgia’s breath caught, a low, trembling vowel that dissolved into silence. Her eyes flickered open, startled but yielding, as she steadied herself against the weight of what had just passed between us. Her lips, parted and glistening, curved into a dazed smile—tipsy, tender, unguarded.
”This…” she murmured, her voice a thread of wonder. “This is you. I remember.”
Her smile softened further, the sharpness of her past—the desperation, the violence—erased entirely. In that moment, she was only herself: a girl whose love was as fierce as it was fragile.
”Thank you, Georgia,” I said, my voice steady but thick with emotion. “I’ll cherish you.”
I pulled her close, our lips meeting in a kiss that felt like a vow. Her golden eyes widened at the contact, her body stiffening for a heartbeat before melting into mine.
”You… you kissed me,” she whispered, her fingers clutching my shirt. “Even though I’m… even though I’m a beastman.”
”No,” I said firmly, brushing her hair back. “You’re a girl. A beautiful one. And Mor-san is a remarkable woman. Your lineage changes nothing.”
I kissed her again, deeper this time, my tongue tracing the seam of her lips until she opened to me. Her initial surprise gave way to a soft, yielding delight, her breath mingling with mine in a rhythm that felt ancient, inevitable.
”My lord honors all beings equally,” I murmured against her skin, my lips brushing her ear. “You’re no exception.”
Mor, seated nearby, smiled warmly. “Think on it, dear,” she said, her voice gentle but firm. “He speaks the truth.”
Georgia nodded, her eyes glistening, and pressed herself closer, her body a silent plea for reassurance. The air between us thickened with unspoken histories—the weight of slurs like mongrel, the cold indifference of those who saw beastmen as less than human. I knew the stories, the whispers of encounters devoid of tenderness, of bodies used and discarded. But here, in this room, I would rewrite that narrative.
Our kiss broke reluctantly, a silver thread of saliva stretching between us before snapping with a soft, wet pop. Georgia’s gaze burned with something raw, almost feral, as she breathed my name—a prayer, a plea.
”Come here,” Mor said, her voice a low hum as she gestured to the bed. Georgia hesitated, then moved to her mother’s side, their silhouettes entwining in a way that was both intimate and reverent.
”Humans lie open,” Mor explained, her hands guiding Georgia’s shoulders. “It’s a gesture of trust. And since your master values connection… this is how you offer yourself.”
She eased Georgia’s trembling form onto the bed, her movements deliberate yet tender. The sight of them—mother and daughter, bound by blood and circumstance—was both profane and sacred, a paradox that tightened my chest. Mor’s gaze, soft with pride and sorrow, met mine briefly before she stepped aside.
”Take her,” she said simply. “Take all she offers.”
Georgia’s breath hitched as she spread her legs, her skin flushed and luminous in the dim light. The air was heavy with her scent—musk and warmth, a primal invitation that coiled low in my stomach.
”Master…” she whispered, her voice a fractured exhale.
I knelt between her thighs, my fingers brushing the curve of her hip. Her body was a map of contrasts: delicate yet fierce, vulnerable yet unyielding. I leaned closer, my breath ghosting over her skin, and traced a path downward with my tongue—slow, deliberate, a promise made flesh.
Her cry was sharp, startled, as my mouth met her core. “Kyainn—!”
The sound vibrated through me, a live wire of sensation. Her taste was intoxicating—salt and sweetness, a heady blend that clouded my thoughts. I deepened the pressure, my tongue mapping the contours of her body, her pleasure a current that pulsed beneath my lips.
”Master’s… inside me,” she gasped, her fingers tangling in my hair. “How… how is this kindness?”
”Because you’re worth it,” I murmured, my voice muffled against her skin. “Every part of you.”
Her tears fell then, silent and steady, as I moved lower still, my mouth tracing the curve of her thigh, the sensitive hollow of her hip. Her body arched, a silent plea for more, and I granted it—a slow, reverent sweep of my tongue that had her keening my name.
Revised Passage:
Her tears were a storm I couldn’t name—joy, relief, something wilder I hadn’t earned but was given freely. I cupped her face, my thumbs brushing the dampness from her cheeks, and spoke the only truth that mattered.
”I’ll take you, Georgia.”
Her hiccupped breath caught, a fragile sound, before she smiled—a watery, radiant thing. “Unh… I’ll give… everything… to you, Master.”
Behind her, Mor’s hands moved in silent benediction, stroking Georgia’s hair as she nodded once, sharply, before bowing her head. The air thickened with the weight of their entwined lives, a mother’s surrender, a daughter’s offering.
I stepped closer, the room narrowing to the sight of her—open, trembling, a vulnerability that seared. Her body was a hymn, soft and pink and impossibly alive, a pulse visible beneath skin that seemed to glow.
”Kya—” Her voice fractured as I touched her, a whisper of contact that made her shudder.
”I’ll be gentle,” I promised, my lips brushing hers. “Tell me if—”
”No,” she murmured, her fingers threading through my hair. “I trust you.”
I entered her slowly, each millimeter a revelation. Her body yielded with a softness that unraveled me, her breath catching in a way that made my name a prayer.
”Kyoon…”
Her cry was a thread of wonder, her arms locking around me as if to anchor herself to this moment. I moved with deliberate care, my hips a question she answered with a hitching breath, a press of her body closer.
”Huh?” I froze, my brow furrowing. “It’s… not there?”
Her hymen—absent. My confusion must have shown, because Mor’s voice cut through the silence, calm and steady.
”We beastmen do not carry the… proof you humans expect. Her purity is in her heart, not her body.”
”I—I didn’t mean to—”
”You didn’t,” Georgia said, her lips curving into a smile that shattered me. “More importantly… stay.”
Her words were a lifeline, pulling me back to her. I cupped her face, my thumbs tracing the curve of her cheeks, and kissed her—forehead, lips, the hollow of her throat. Each touch was an apology, a promise.
”Kyaan… Master… so gentle… I love you…”
Her limbs clung to me like vines, her tail a restless sweep against the sheets. I cradled her small breasts, her gasp a sweet, startled thing that made me smile against her skin.
”Kyoon… even here… it feels… so good…”
Her joy was a wildfire, consuming us both. I whispered it into her ear, my voice rough with wonder.
”You’re so cute, Georgia. I love you.”
Her arms tightened, her body trembling as if my words had anchored her to the earth. “My master… my master… I love you so much… ah… ah!? Kyaaaan—”
Her climax was a storm, her body arching, tears streaming down her face. I held her through it, my heart swelling with something tender, almost parental—a warmth that sharpened into need.
”Aah… so cute… Georgia, you’re really…”
Her innocence was a gift, her devotion a force I couldn’t name. It coiled in me, heat and hunger, until I was moving again, my hips a steady rhythm that drew a keening sound from her lips.
”Kyaain! My master… my masteeeer—!”
Her mouth sought mine, desperate, her tongue a plea I couldn’t deny. I tasted her tears, her breath, the wildness of her as I thrust deeper, my control fracturing.
”Pheh… Georgia… I’m—”
”Give it to me!” she cried, her lips devouring mine. “Your seed… give it to me—!”
Her need was a mirror to my own, her body a vise that milked me, drew me under. I spilled into her with a groan, her name a broken sound on my lips.
“Nnnghhh!”
“Ngk! Nnnh! Nfuuuuuuuu—!”
Even spent, her body pulsed around me, a rhythm that wrung every last drop from me. She clung to my tongue, her tremors a silent hymn, until I pulled away, breathless, and pressed my forehead to hers.
”Haa… haa… Georgia… thank you… for… everything…”
Her eyes fluttered open, glassy and sated, before sliding shut. “Mas…ter… love you…”
Mor gathered her daughter close, a silent guardian, as Georgia’s smile softened into sleep. The room was heavy with the scent of us—salt and skin, something sacred and profane—and I knew, with a certainty that hollowed me out, that I’d never be the same.
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Edited by Kanaa-senpai.
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