Chapter 157 The Shrine’s Master A Husband’s Possessive Love and a Servant’s Ecstasy
Edited by: Kanaa-senpai
A hand, swift and deliberate, reached out to cup her breast, its touch firm yet tender. The sensation rippled through her, a warmth that spread from her core to the tips of her toes. Her breath quickened as a deep ache stirred within her, and she found herself arching subtly, her thighs pressing together in an instinctive response. Yet, her body, poised to retreat, was ensnared by strong arms, holding her firmly in place, forcing her to surrender to an overwhelming, inescapable pleasure.
”Ahh, Yuuri¹, please—wait! Ahhh, ahhh²!” she gasped, her voice trembling.
Even as she pleaded for mercy, her words were met only with his rough, labored breathing. Tears welled in her eyes, not from pain, but from the humbling realization of being so utterly *possessed*—her resistance rendered futile. Yet, those tears soon gave way to a different emotion, a joy born of being consumed by ecstasy. For a time, she could do nothing but surrender to the feverish lust that ignited within her, a willing captive in her Master’s embrace. Her hips moved urgently, seeking the source of the intoxicating scent that clouded her senses, her body yearning to harmonize with the man she adored.
”Suzuri,” Yuuri’s deep voice cut through the haze, “I said we’d visit your village after taking the Dungeon. That’s no longer the plan.”
”Wha—? Eh? Why so suddenly—³ ⁴—Mmh, ahhnnn!” she exclaimed, her shock mingling with the pleasure that still coursed through her.
The promise, once a beacon of hope, was now a distant memory. Her inner smile faltered as the weight of his words settled upon her. Yet, before she could voice her protest, his hand, still holding her breast with a possessive grip, tightened, and her legs gave way, forcing her into a state of helpless, seductive surrender.
”Ngh, fuuuhhh! Did I—did I misunderstand, husband? Ah, I was untouched before you claimed me! My body, even before becoming your servant, was away from the village, training as a warrior, untouched by the Festival!” she gasped, her voice laced with desperation.
”I know,” Yuuri growled, his tone unwavering. “I also know you’d never give yourself to another, even if you returned home. But that’s not the issue.”
Her desire to visit her village had been rooted in a private fantasy—a Festival shared only with her husband. She had never imagined the complexities of reality intruding upon their intimacy. Yet, Yuuri’s concerns were far removed from her own. Her declarations of loyalty were met with a stern dismissal.
”Do you think we can simply appear, explain everything, and be welcomed with open arms? If we conquer this Dungeon, your contribution will be undeniable. But in a place with such customs, do you believe they’d respect a claim of ‘Don’t lay a hand on her’? They’d accept it, perhaps, but only if we had a daughter. Then, they’d demand her womb to strengthen their bloodline.”
”Ahhh…!” she gasped, the realization striking her like a blow.
Her focus had been solely on the comforting possessiveness of the man she loved, on the unbreakable bond they shared. Yet, Yuuri’s words forced her to confront the harsh realities of their future. If this dark custom had produced the warriors capable of clearing the Royal Capital Dungeon, Yuuri could not ignore its political implications. It meant that by avoiding the village, they could sidestep an impossible conflict—a conflict that now loomed over their lives.
”Could you bear to see our daughter endure that? To be separated from her sisters and sent to such a place?!” he challenged, his voice intense.
”No, no, absolutely not! Our daughters must find husbands like you and live happily!” she exclaimed, her voice trembling with conviction.
His hand, now kneading her breast with a possessive intensity, evoked a dual response within her. While his touch brought her ecstasy, the thought of any other man laying claim to her—or worse, to their daughter—filled her with revulsion. The very idea of such a fate was unbearable, a grief that threatened to tear her apart.
”Exactly,” Yuuri nodded, his expression softening. “I’ll only contact your village when I can offer them a sufficient return for your cooperation, one that doesn’t involve our children. I don’t yet know what power we’ll hold after capturing the Dungeon, but I won’t slight the village that raised you.”
”Hah! Yes, my husband, yes!” she cried, her body melting into his touch.
The earlier shock had made her fear he might sever her ties with her homeland. Though Yuuri despised the village’s practices, he recognized the strength born from their unity. She had feared he might condemn their ways outright, but instead, he sought to bridge the gap, setting aside his personal feelings to find common ground.
—*A lecherous, intensely possessive, and sometimes overly cautious husband*.
Yet, his willingness to stand by her made those flaws seem trivial. Her body, already bound to him as a servant, found solace in his kindness, content to live within his absolute constraint.
”Yuuri, I love you! I adore you so much! Please keep me by your side forever and ever!” she declared, her voice overflowing with emotion.
But even as she confessed her love without reserve, Yuuri seemed to miss the depth of her affection.
”Yes, I understand! We’ll get the Skill, we’ll get the Skill!” she affirmed, her devotion unwavering.
In that moment, she no longer cared what he did to her body. What they needed was not cunning or restraint, but a dramatic increase in their power to ensure their safety. The laziness she now embraced—a departure from her former rigor—was a joy she accepted willingly.
”That’s right. So, Suzuri, teach me the ritual of this place,” he ordered, his voice firm yet tender. “I’m the only man here, but I’ll use my abilities to give you all the affection you crave.”
”Ah, ahhh! Yes, Master! Right away, right away!” she stammered, her heart racing.
She was captivated by his kindness, by his willingness to overlook her past. And now, her devotion to the Master who sought to *re-enact* the very customs she had once avoided was reaching a state of worship.
”Th-this is it! We wear only a short jūban⁵, so the men can claim us immediately! And—and we’re hung from the rafters by our bound wrists to prevent escape, so they can take us as they please!” she explained, her voice breathless.
”Ugh, that’s… it sounds like livestock!” Yuuri scoffed, his tone laced with disdain.
The hall, with its clustered pillars and low-hanging beams, did indeed resemble a livestock shed. She realized anew how far her former life was from the fate of the Bride described in the founder’s notes. Yet, it was strange how such *animalistic* treatment could feel like supreme joy when carried out with the possessive devotion of the man she loved.
With that thought, she shed her inhibitions, dissolving the protective armor of her Darkness Wrap. She switched to a Shiromuku—a white wedding kimono—materialized to prevent its dissipation, and bound her wrists with self-generated ribbon-like cords, presenting them to her Master.
”That’s right, that is precisely right! Suzuri is nothing more than a beast meant only to be claimed by her husband! Bound by these restraints, I am just a vessel with no purpose but to receive your seed! Please, bless me with your strength, my Master!” she pleaded, her voice trembling with desire.
The ritual garment, open in the front, barely concealed her nipples. She shamelessly exposed the crotch tattoo that glowed in red and black, her thighs parted in unashamed anticipation, longing for her Master’s mercy.
In response, Yuuri, despite his absolute power, kissed her lips as if she were his cherished lover, his touch tender and loving—a stark contrast to her declaration of being a beast.
”Fwah, ahhh! No, no, don’t! I am just your breeding livestock now! Being so gentle… I’ll—I’ll get the wrong idea!” she whimpered, her voice laced with embarrassment.
”Shut up,” he chuckled, his tone playful. “You’re a terrible actress, collapsing from pleasure. Come on, as you wished, I’ll hang you right here and dote on you.”
Her knees, weak from the intensity of her desire, could no longer support her. Yuuri lifted her effortlessly, his arm grasping the cord as he looped it over a low beam. He adjusted her height carefully, ensuring she was neither too high nor too low, and she found herself suspended, mesmerized by his strength. Her hips were fixed at knee height, her body positioned in an immodest, wide-legged stance.
”Th-this is indecent! Wait—huh? Awah!” she cried, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment.
There was a limit to how much she could shamelessly display herself, even to excite the man she loved. Too much might actually dampen his arousal. Panicked, she tried to close her thighs, but tentacles emerging from the floor firmly fixed her ankles in place.
”No, Yuuri, you mustn’t! Making me hold such a lewd posture! And—and this isn’t the Festival’s proper way! I should be tied like livestock and taken from behind!” she protested, her voice desperate.
”Hmph. I don’t care about a ritual where women mate with anyone. I agree with hanging you up to offer yourself, but it’s just you and me here. I’m changing the method to suit the situation,” he stated firmly.
He had a point. The ritual of tying women to the hall’s beams might have been a practical way for the isolated village to ensure offspring, but for her, almost *every day* since becoming his servant had been a Festival of sorts. And she knew Yuuri, as the host of this ritual, wouldn’t be satisfied with merely the well-behaved *impregnation of livestock*. Nevertheless, the deviation from the original ritual brought a slight disappointment, overshadowed by an even greater expectation.
One after another, more tentacles appeared from the surrounding floor, lifting and supporting her wide-open center from behind. She was completely exposed, her most intimate parts displayed without cover for her Master, as the tentacles gathered like coral to form an altar of flesh in the center of the hall.
Looking around from her gradually rising position, a sacrifice offered to the man she loved, she noticed that the walls where the men would normally wait their turn were now occupied by countless tentacles as well. The entire ritual was under her Master’s absolute control.
”Ah, ahhh! No! The hall… it’s like Yuuri’s Tentacle Room!” she cried, her voice laced with awe.
”Hmph. I spared you from covering everything with tentacles, you know. I’m at least keeping the *pretense* of your village’s breeding festival,” he taunted, his tone playful.
Looking up, she saw the tentacles that covered the floor now reached the ceiling, coiling and writhing around the beams. However, the latticed windows were mostly uncovered, and the flickering light of the torches outside could still be seen. Though the beams and pillars were crawling with tentacles, their presence barely allowed the hall to be recognized as the Breeding Shrine it once was.
During this time, Yuuri stripped off all his clothing, revealing his powerful, muscular body. His manhood, emitting a strong scent of arousal, stood erect, pointing skyward, awaiting the moment to claim the helpless beast before him. Suzuri swallowed hard, utterly silenced by her Master’s lustful aura. Satisfied with his prepared prey, Yuuri took one step, then another, moving toward her.
”Hee hee, you really are beautiful, Suzuri. …But don’t think doting on my servant just means taking you and finishing,” he warned, his voice low and dangerous.
”Fuuhh, haah, ahhh! That’s… of course… But what exactly will you do?” she wondered aloud, her heart pounding.
Her Master had many ways to torment his servant, all of which brought her supreme pleasure. That was precisely why she couldn’t predict Yuuri’s next move. Her heart raced as she watched his every movement, her body tense with anticipation. Yuuri began to caress her entire body, perhaps to throw her off the scent of his true intent. Then, taking advantage of her momentary relaxation, he placed his large hand on her lower abdomen.
”Hah-hey, mnf! …Ahh, ahhh! Th-that feels so good! Just being caressed by Yuuri feels good everywhere! Where will you cherish me next—huh! Wait, could that be it?!” she squeaked, her voice rising in alarm.
She felt a comforting, *massaging* sensation from his hand kneading her abdominal muscles. She was so off guard that she couldn’t immediately grasp the meaning of him placing his palm directly over her crotch tattoo.
”W-wait, Yuuri! Please stoooppp—ngh! HAGGYAAAAHHH!” she screamed, her voice piercing the air.
She tried to call out a warning, but such a request, an impertinent rejection of her Master’s affection, would never be heard. With a sharp jolt of powerful magical transmission as a precursor, the marking on her lower abdomen glowed intensely. At the same moment, the crotch tattoo *expanded* in size, as if something were being lodged within it, and an unbearable wave of pleasure surged through her entire body from her core.
”Hee hee, hee hee! Wh-why are you making a Skill? An existing Skill like Libella would be enough!” she stammered, her voice trembling.
”Don’t be an idiot. I’m sending my precious Suzuri out on solo reconnaissance. And who’s to say Libella will be the only difficult opponent in the future?” Yuuri growled, his tone stern. “…Besides, my Suzuri didn’t show enough consideration for our daughter’s future this time. I’ll use this to punish you a little.”
With the faint flash of his anger, the ecstasy consuming her body intensified even further. The intense sensation, like being pricked by countless needles of pleasure all over her body, was finally pushing her tolerance to its limit. But her firmly fixed legs, and even her arms, which had merely been suspended, were now bound by tentacles, making it impossible to escape the altar of flesh. She had no choice but to accept the intense pleasure, and even after realizing it, her Master only smiled lovingly. Before his tranquil smile and his lustful, erect form, the pitiful livestock could only endure and wait desperately for the impending union.
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Summary:
In the ritual hall, Suzuri’s ecstasy reaches a peak under her Master Yuuri’s fierce touch, but his deep-seated possessiveness and protective love force a dramatic change. Yuuri, disgusted by the dark customs of her shinobi village—which demand a woman’s womb for breeding—suddenly retracts his promise to visit. He realizes that conquering the Dungeon will give his servant (and wife) political value, risking their future daughter to be used as a breeding vessel. To protect their family and punish Suzuri for her momentary oversight, he transforms the hall into a Tentacle Room and, in a final act of overwhelming control, activates her crotch tattoo to forcibly create a new Skill through intense pleasure. The submissive servant is now bound, exposed on an altar of flesh, desperately awaiting her Master’s final, loving penetration.
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Character Insight:
Yuuri’s character is defined by a fascinating conflict: he is a dominant and lustful Master who nonetheless shows profound, pragmatic loyalty to his chosen family. His decision to break the promise isn’t out of cruelty, but a fierce desire to protect his future daughter from the corrupting traditions he sees in Suzuri’s past. Suzuri, in turn, finds her deepest sense of self and joy in submitting to this intensely possessive love, proving that her love for Yuuri transcends the dark history of her birthright. The Skill creation is both a ‘punishment’ and an act of protective empowerment.
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Behind the Scene:
The author notes that this level of dark, explicit ritual—which the servant Suzuri so easily accepts—is deliberately shown as a stark contrast to her everyday, more ‘strict’ environment. This contrast is used to make Suzuri’s deep knowledge of taboo customs more believable, which is crucial for her role as a Dungeon challenger. The erotic tension and power dynamics are intentional tools to drive both the plot and the character’s emotional arcs forward.
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T/L:
¹ Yuuri’s name is rendered in English to maintain flow, as per guidelines. ↩
² Suzuri’s cries are translated into the most emotionally expressive English forms. ↩
³ The use of ‘-nnn’ or ‘—’ in the original is rendered as a breathy, drawn-out syllable in the English dialogue. ↩
⁴ The original ‘はへ’ is rendered as a shocked and breathless ‘Wha—?’ ↩
⁵ Jūban: A traditional light undergarment worn beneath a kimono, translated as ‘short undergarment’ for context. ↩
Notes:
• Suzuri – A scout who braved the labyrinth and lured a petrifying monster to protect her friends. Tall, statuesque, flawlessly pale skin, powerfully toned yet soft and feminine, with long, flowing black hair identical to Marina. Her body have muscles but slim. Her breasts are very large, full, high-set, and overtly described as “too big for her frame,”
• Ai – The recently-formed sub-divinity/ego who manages the world’s Skills. Her sudden, intense burst of divine will (‘ki’) almost bleached Yuuri’s wicked thoughts. Called Yuuri ‘Elder Brother’ and declared genuine affection and trust based on his efficiency with her Skills.
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Edited by Kanaa-senpai.
Thanks for reading.
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