《This Slimy Melting Heart》Chapter 160: Like Past, Like Present
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On the way back, Iris opened the carriage window and peered into the dusk sky, which painted the world deep crimson, full of warm, nostalgic beauty. Though buildings and walls prevented her from seeing the sunset amidst the great ocean, the knowledge of its existence was enough.
Sunlight, seeping through the thin curtain, bounced on her skin, dazzling, illuminating the interior soft gold. She pressed her hands on the cushion and watched their surfaces sinking, smiling as her thoughts wandered. Her lonely shadow flickered, yet no lovely maid was there to comfort, tease, and get teased by her.
Without Secain, this empty carriage becomes lonelier than ever. Must I hire her as my personal maid? But if she’s always by my side, will I don’t want to turn her into a Monster Girl too soon; I hope our moment will be magically memorable.
Our affection . . . is not intense enough.
Iris chuckled. Her carriage gradually decreased its monotony speed. Though she was daydreaming, she was also keeping track of her route. Since that day, especially the Curse of the Eye incident, she had resolved herself to be even more careful, perhaps on the verge of paranoia.
“Despite the lack of activities, I still feel exhausted,” Iris said. “The fatigue of the soul is too difficult to heal via resting. Fortunately, my precious friends can easily heal my tired heart.”
With one hand holding her leather case, Iris alighted the carriage, her glimmering eyes admiring Auburn Leaf Library. Its colour scheme, that of the forest and its firm trees, blended in with the bright orange sky of the dusk. Not just its design, but its librarian, the one Iris looked forward to, was also akin to autumn.
Tundra, you’re one of the highlights of my day; do you know that?
Iris licked her lips, savouring the imaginary nectar on her tongue. You reminded me of my innocent self, of my pure, undistilled virtue. Such a perfect canvas, an inviting piece of whiteness. It urges me to paint onto you strokes of pleasures, dots of blackness, to turn you into a fallen maiden, to fill you with the thoughts of me, and to—
Shaking her head, Iris quelled her indecency. Her breathing calmed, and her demeanour resumed its cold elegance, devoid of any indication of her cravings. She strode toward the library with a faint smile on her face.
You must control yourself, Iris. Tundra is not a part of your world; she is a Mage Apprentice with a bright future. You must not ruin her . . . but if she dearly wishes so, I . . . can grant that careless wish of hers.
I wonder, what kind of beauty will you become?
Iris grasped the door handle and pushed it. The bell attached to the door frame rang, echoing sweet, shivering noises. To the quiet library, where only Tundra remained, the sound was a sign from heaven, something to look forward to.
Iris gracefully entered the library and closed the door, her fingers tapping its glassy surface. Her Corruption Power blossomed into a batch of flowers, covered the transparent windows with petals, sealing all escapes.
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Now, only Iris and Tundra remained, and nothing would get in their way, no matter how much they touched, screamed, moaned, and more.
“Lady Iris?” Tundra raised her head, her drowsy eyes sparkling. “I’ve been waiting for you!”
She sprung up from her chair and dashed out of the reception counter. Her head, filled with sleepiness, alerted her of the newfound dizziness. Her vision spun, throwing her off balance. She tensed her legs, yet her muscles failed to move the way she commanded. Lost to the disorientation, she tripped.
Sighing, Iris flicked her fingers. A gush of wind emerged from her sleeves, rushing toward Tundra. It gently lifted her body while grazing her skin, giving her a jolt, sprinkling abnormal sensations throughout her body. Her face grew pink as she tried to suppress her insensible thoughts.
Her hands clenching, her body burning, Tundra held her breaths, blanking out. She had to speak something, apologise, thank, anything except remain silent. She didn’t know what to say. Only the thoughts about Iris’s appearances and manners lingered in her head.
While Tundra was stuttering, Iris walked to her and tapped her forehead. A hint of Holy Power spread inside Tundra, dispelling her sinful thoughts. Iris almost smirked at her, but she held back herself, pretending to be oblivious to the embarrassing yet inviting expression.
Though I’ve suppressed the potency of my power, she still got affected. So tender, like the old me. Playing with her will bring me endless joy.
“Will you excuse my lateness?” Iris said. “You should not have rushed yourself. Your delicate body is precious. I don’t want it to break too soon. There are still many things to explore.”
“Lady Iris, I thought you wouldn’t come today.” Tundra’s indecisive hands grabbed Iris’s sleeves. “My mind hasn’t been with me. Since morning, I’ve been looking forward to seeing you. When I saw you, my happiness clouded my judgement.”
“How can I leave alone a lady as lovely as you?” Iris leaned forward, her faces so close to Tundra’s, their lips almost grazing. “What kind of compensation do you want?”
Iris’s breaths, chilly like snow, yet burning like fire, drifted around Tundra, who, with all her effort, stopped her heart from bursting out of her chest. The whirling of thoughts swamped her throat; there was a spark of desire, of insatiable craving, but she could not express it. Her sticky saliva sealed her mouth, and she could not, would not, request such an obscene act from her admired, respectable Iris.
Agitated, she retreated from Iris, swallowing her words. Her eyes betrayed her regret, yet she had no intention of grasping at the opportunity. She only fiddled with her messy brown hair, trying to hide her blushes.
“Please, please grant me a favour,” she said, puffing. “I want . . . you . . . you to help me more.”
“I can fulfil your wishes, but are you willing to accept it?”
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Iris stepped forward. Her hands seized Tundra’s hands. Her fingers ran across Tundra’s delicate skin, caressing, squeezing, and stroking the soft, milky forearms before pinching the strained shoulders. Grinning, Iris yanked Tundra inward, pressing her breasts against Tundra, pushing forward while binding the weak, confused, excited librarian onto her.
“What, what are you doing?” Tundra’s meek voice fluctuated as passions filled her eyes. The ceiling turned pink, the floor melted, and the atmosphere became sweet. She was in a wonderland, in a sensual romance book she once secretly read. “Lady Iris . . . it is inappropriate, isn’t it?”
“Will you let it stop us?” Iris whispered, her pursed lips curving into a grin. She bit Tundra’s right ear. “Do you feel it? The throbbing of our hearts. Listen carefully, and you’ll understand.”
The steamy air clouded the library. Its books shivered, their pages wildly flipping. Countless strings of symbols floated, sank, and twisted. They spun into a passage, an interconnecting chain, which, according to Iris, revolved around Tundra.
Each hieroglyph, infused with condensed information, touched Tundra. Their thin, wet surfaces latched onto her flesh, clinging to her trembling body. They dissolved into tainted spots on her skin, taking roots inside her mind. She, enduring both Iris’s touches and the pleasuring knowledge, sealed her mouth tight, though her disquieted voice still leaked outward.
The vast information assaulted her brain. Her eyes violently contracted, expanded, and contracted, alternating between different gleams, shifting, twitching. As headache overcame her, the chains of rationale which sealed her instinct shattered.
Her breathing grew rough, her body melting. Vague heart shapes manifested in her eyes. She reached her trembling hands for Iris, unable to contain herself no more.
“Tundra, your innocence is most delicious,” Iris said. “You have endured well, though I might have overdone it. I shall now relieve your burden.”
Blushing, Iris reached her right hand behind Tundra and grasped her neck before pulling her in. Her lips pressed against Tundra’s, draining her saliva and heat. The rupturing desires and overwhelming knowledge fizzled away as Iris regulated Tundra’s body, drawing her out of the frenzy.
This spell still needs more work. It’s too painful for the receiver, and I can’t control the amount of transferred information accurately. Sister Lenmia, when you kissed me, I only felt ecstasy. How did you do it?
Iris parted her lips from Tundra and exhaled. A wisp of fragrant sweat lingered around her, reminding her of her first kiss, the moment in which Lenmia unceremoniously yet tenderly stole her first, her heart, and her innocence. It was the beginning of her fall, an irresistible, irreversible downfall, one which she had not regretted.
“Lady . . . Iris?” Tundra touched her lips and instinctively licked the sweet, candy-like saliva. “You taste . . . sugary? I mean, what had just happened?”
“Do you want more?” Iris giggled as she retreated from Tundra. The magical scene surrounding her vanished, replaced by the sight of a serene, orderly library. “I’ve just gifted you my precious possession. How does it feel?”
“I, I, I don’t know.” Tundra wanted to touch her lips, to simulate the sensation, but she suppressed her strange thoughts. “I am a woman; you are a woman. We . . . should not feel like this. This unnatural . . . craving is problematic, illogical.”
“Do you want to resolve this problem?”
“I want . . . I think I want to. Is it wrong not to?”
“Why not test it? Magic is all about the exploration of the unknown, the imaginative perspective of the familiar.” Iris sauntered past Tundra and into the library. “What is lust? What is love? How do these two feelings, one of the purest virtue, other the worst of sin, integrate so well, so inseparable?”
Tundra forced her hands to her side, but they kept crawling to her abdomen, trying to satisfy her itches. “Do you know the answer?”
“I don’t, and no one will. Every answer is both correct and wrong, true and false. Love and lust mean different things to different people. What is your answer?”
“I—”
“Don’t say it.” Iris glanced at the flushing Tundra, and then entered the reading section. “Reign in your emotions. Mull over it first, and I, too, shall accept it with my heart, not my eros.”
Disappointed, Tundra fell silent. Her wrinkled uniform, filled with sweats and sticky fluid, felt uncomfortable on her skin. She raised her hands to cast a cleansing spell, but then she stopped herself. She would not give up. She had to prove it to Iris; she had to prove it.
As she arrived in front of Iris, she sat down. Her breathing slowly returned to peace. Despite her haggard appearance, her character invited looks and touches yet remained till the end pure, contradictory.
“Fine. I lose.” Iris covered her mouth, silently exhaling the heat inside her. “I shall help you with your request. When you are ready, send a letter to me, and I shall arrange the place most suitable for us.”
“Lady Iris, have my determination reached you?” The excited librarian got up, leaning forward. “Can I experience your answer?”
“Do you think the matter of feeling is such an easy thing to decide?” It is, my Dear Tundra, but now is not the time. “I’m booking you a private magic-training facility. Now, you can freely experiment with all the newfound knowledge and ideas.”
Tundra blinked, and her pink flushes and red blushes came to her at once. Indeed, she had forgotten about her previous request, all because of her swayed heart and burning desire!
“Lady Iris, you played me again!”
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