3

"Dreamy Alley" is an inconspicuous side alley on the border of Zhumeng, nestled between two uniquely shaped, quaint buildings. The alley is narrow, paved with old stone slabs, and the walls are covered with glowing vines that emit a faint, drowsy, sweet fragrance. Far from the hustle and bustle of the main street, it is so quiet that only the faint sounds of music in the distance and the rustling of the wind through the vines can be heard.

Deep in the alley, an unmarked metal door is embedded in the wall. The lock is encrypted with both pupil and voiceprint, and theoretically only Kafka herself can open it.

But now, Crypto controls this body.

He stood before the door, his pale purple eyes fixed on the scanner. Iris recognition passed through without hindrance—these were indeed Kaffa's eyes. Then, he spoke, uttering a short, rhythmic phrase in Kaffa's voice. It was a voiceprint code Kaffa had set, seemingly a line of poetry or some kind of cipher.

"The spider web binds fate, the plucked string startles the void."

"Verification successful. Welcome back, Ms. Kafka." The door lock emitted a soft electronic voice, and the metal door slid open silently.

Behind the door was a small space. More like a meticulously furnished safe house than a room. It was about thirty square meters, decorated in a simple and austere style, primarily in black, white, and gray. Against the wall was a large bed with dark gray sheets; the mattress looked soft but offered good support. Next to it was a built-in wardrobe, a desk, and an ergonomic chair. At the other end of the room was a small open-plan kitchen area, equipped with a basic food processor and refrigerator. At the far end was a frosted glass door, behind which was presumably the bathroom.

The room has no windows; lighting comes from adjustable color temperature and brightness LED strips embedded in the ceiling. An air circulation system operates quietly, maintaining a comfortable temperature and humidity. The overall atmosphere is private and safe, completely out of place in the bizarre and fantastical dream city outside.

This is one of Kavka's temporary outposts in Pinocene. Star Core Hunters are accustomed to setting up such safe houses at key planetary nodes for emergencies.

Crypto dragged Qiong, who was bound by silk threads, into the room. The metal door closed and locked automatically behind them. He released the threads, and Qiong fell heavily onto the cold floor with a muffled groan.

“Nice location.” Crypto looked around, nodded, and spoke with the air of a property appraiser. “Clean, secluded, and the soundproofing should be excellent. Suitable for conducting some… confidential 'research'.”

He ignored Qiong and eagerly walked to a full-length mirror in the corner of the room. The mirror's frame was made of simple black metal, clearly reflecting his current appearance—or rather, Kafka's current appearance.

The woman in the mirror was disheveled and in a sorry state, yet she exuded a breathtaking, ravaged, and eerie beauty.

Her long, wine-red hair was somewhat disheveled, a few strands clinging to her pale cheeks and neck with sweat. Her white backless shirt was completely ripped open, revealing a black bra that had popped open, and her bare, snow-white breasts, covered in red marks and teeth marks. Her nipples were swollen and erect, glistening with saliva. Her black shorts and underwear were pulled down to mid-thigh, caught at the groin, leaving her most intimate parts partially exposed. A long slit was cut into her dark purple pantyhose on the outside of her left thigh, the edges torn, revealing a scabbed wound beneath, surrounded by mottled bloodstains. Her right stocking was relatively intact, tightly hugging her long, straight leg, the stockings digging deep into her full thigh. Asymmetrical black high heels remained on her feet, the surfaces stained with dust and wood chips.

Tears still clung to her face, her eyes slightly red, but a superhuman, excited green glow burned within those pale purple eyes. A twisted, satisfied smile played on her lips.

Crypto stood in front of the mirror, slowly raising his arms and carefully examining them inch by inch. His skin was fair and smooth, his muscles flowing and beautifully defined. Wine-red gloves encased his hands, their silver spiderweb patterns shimmering under the light. He bent his fingers, opened them, then clenched them into fists, feeling the movement of the tendons and the stretching of the skin.

“Perfect…” he murmured in admiration, his voice filled with possessiveness. “Smooth skin, well-proportioned bones, muscles that are elastic yet not overly strong…everything is just right. You humans do have some merit in terms of aesthetics.”

He lowered his arms, looked down, and his gaze greedily swept over his body. Looking through the open neckline, he could see his ravaged breasts rising and falling slightly with his breath. He reached out and covered them again, but this time his movements were much gentler, as if he were admiring a precious work of art, tracing the contours of the breasts with his fingers, feeling their heavy softness and warmth.

“This… has a really nice shape.” He pinched the breast, his fingertips tracing the areola before finally settling on the erect nipple, gently teasing it. “It’s also very sensitive. The slightest touch makes it this hard… Is it to attract males? A primal reproductive signal?”

His hand moved down, brushing over the flat, firm abdomen, over the neatly trimmed, wine-red pubic hair, and finally resting near the still moist and muddy entrance. His fingertips gently pressed against the labia, feeling the softness and warmth there.

“I was in here just now. It was very tight and hot.” ​​He recalled, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “I wonder what it would feel like to actually mate? The information says that human females experience strong contractions and sucking sensations here to increase male pleasure and promote ejaculation… It’s truly a primitive design that will stop at nothing for reproduction.”

He seemed completely absorbed in exploring and evaluating the body, forgetting about Qiong on the floor.

Qiong struggled to sit up. The threads still bound his limbs and torso tightly, but seemed a little looser than before—perhaps Crypto was focused on other things and had less control over the threads. He leaned against the cold wall, coldly watching the alien consciousness masturbating in front of the mirror. Seeing Kafka's body being so defiled, the anger and killing intent in his heart surged like magma, but he forced himself to remain calm.

We must wait for an opportunity. This monster seems fascinated by Kafka's body; this might be its weakness. Furthermore, he mentioned collecting "mating data"... which means he won't kill her for now. There's still room for maneuver.

The most important thing now is to find out the state of Kafka's consciousness. Is it completely suppressed, or are there still remnants? Is it possible to make contact with her?

Qiong tried to concentrate his mind and sense the power of the star core within his body. The power of the star core and the "Void" destiny seemed to be in some subtle conflict; perhaps… it could interfere with that alien spiritual entity? He cautiously channeled a wisp of power, attempting to break through the pale purple threads wrapped around his body. The threads vibrated slightly but did not break; instead, they sent a stronger mental backlash, causing a sharp pain in his head.

“Hmm?” Crypto seemed to sense something, turning his head from the mirror to look at Qiong. His face still held that fascinated expression, but his eyes had regained their coldness and scrutiny. “Don’t waste your energy, monkey. These threads are not just physical constraints; they are also mixed with my mental imprint and the 'bewitching' energy of this body itself. With your crude way of using energy, you think you can break free? You’ll need to practice for another hundred years.”

He released his hand from his genitals, turned around, and limped towards Qiong. His high heels clicked clearly on the floor, echoing in the silent room.

He stopped in front of Qiong and squatted down. This position made his torn stockings and the wounds on his legs more clearly visible to Qiong, and the open collar of his shirt also hung down, his ravaged breasts almost touching Qiong's knees.

“Now, let’s get down to business,” Crypto said in Kafka’s voice, his tone becoming more formal, but the inhuman arrogance remained. “I am Cryptosporidium-138, a Fron agent. I am here on the orders of Commander Pox to investigate the possible existence of 'stellar core' fragments on this planet and to collect physiological and behavioral data on you humans—low-level carbon-based life forms—especially reproductive behavior data.”

He paused, then reached out and used his gloved index finger to lift Sora's chin, forcing him to look up at his (Kafka's) face.

"You, a male human, appear to be fairly healthy and strong, meeting the sample requirements. The female body I'm currently using is of extremely high quality, far exceeding that of ordinary human individuals, making you a perfect experimental subject." His fingers slid along Qiong's jawline, the movement flippant and insulting. "Therefore, I've decided to conscript you to assist me in completing my data collection mission. It's your honor, you inferior being."

Qiong abruptly turned her head away, shaking off his fingers, her eyes as cold as knives: "Dream on. I will never cooperate with you in anything. Get out of Kafka's body right now!"

"Get out?" Crypto chuckled as if he'd heard a joke. "I told you, this body is mine now. And do you think you have a choice?"

He stood up, took two steps back, and crossed his arms over his chest—a gesture that made his breasts appear even more prominent. “I can force you. I can control your limbs with threads, making you mate like a puppet. But the data obtained that way won’t be ‘natural’ enough, and might affect the analysis results. So…”

His face once again displayed that feigned, gentle smile that belonged to Kafka, and the green glow in his eyes was deliberately toned down.

“Let’s try something different.” His/her voice softened, carrying a hint of seduction. “Look, I’m using her appearance and her voice now. You care about her, right? I could tell from your reaction just now. So… what if ‘she’ needs you? What if ‘she’ asks for your help, longs for your touch?”

Qiong's heart skipped a beat, and she looked at him warily: "What trick are you planning to play now?"

“It’s not a trick, it’s… a deal.” Crypto controlled Kaffa’s body, slowly approaching, and then knelt down in front of Sora. This position brought their faces almost to the same height as Sora’s. They tilted their heads slightly, their pale purple eyes (trying to mimic Kaffa’s gaze) fixed on Sora, their long eyelashes trembling gently, their lips slightly parted, their breath carrying a faint sweet fragrance and a hint of sensual warmth.

“You see, although I’ve taken control of her body, her consciousness… hasn’t completely disappeared,” Crypto said softly in Kaffa’s voice, his tone carrying just the right amount of vulnerability and pleading. “I can feel her… struggling deep inside, crying. She’s in pain, she’s scared… she needs help.”

Qiong's breath hitched. Knowing it was likely a lie, a trap, his heart still clenched uncontrollably when he heard "her" say those words in such a tone.

“Only you can help her, darling.” Crypto (imitating Kafka) reached out and gently stroked Sora’s cheek. The silky touch of the glove mixed with the coolness of her skin made Sora tremble. “Your power… is special. I can feel that the ‘Star Core’ within you has some kind of restraining effect on spiritual beings. If you are willing… if you are willing to come closer to me, touch me, and pass your power in… perhaps, it can weaken that monster’s control, allowing me… allowing me a chance to reclaim my body.”

His fingers gently caressed Qiong's cheek, his eyes filled with sorrow and expectation, tears welling up in his eyes again, threatening to fall. That beautiful, pale face that belonged to Kafka was now filled with helplessness and dependence; any man who saw it would feel pity and long to hold her in his arms and protect her.

Qiong's rational mind was screaming: It's fake! It's all fake! He's imitating Kaffa! He's exploiting your feelings for Kaffa!

But his body betrayed his reason. The gentle touch on his cheek, the familiar yet vulnerable face before him, that "darling"... all of it was like the most lethal poison, eroding his defenses. What if... what if there was even a one percent chance it was true? What if Kafka's consciousness was really calling for his help somewhere? How could he ignore it?

"I..." Qiong's throat was dry and her voice was hoarse.

"Help me, Sora..." Crypto's tears finally streamed down her pale cheeks, dripping onto the back of Sora's hand, warm and damp. She leaned forward slightly, almost resting against Sora's chest, her ravaged breasts brushing gently against his chest through the open collar of her shirt. The soft touch, mixed with a faint milky scent and the aroma of desire, was like the most potent aphrodisiac.

“That monster… he’s doing disgusting things to my body… I can feel it, but I can’t stop it…” His/her voice choked with sobs as he/she buried his/her face in the crook of Qiong’s neck, his/her warm breath spraying on her skin. “I feel so bad… so dirty… only you can make me feel a little better… hug me, okay? Like before…”

Qiong's breathing became completely erratic. The warmth at the nape of her neck, the soft pressure against her chest, the plaintive plea in her ear, and that unique scent that belonged to Kaffa... all of this intertwined into an invisible net, trapping him firmly. His arms moved, wanting to raise them, wanting to hug this seemingly fragile and helpless woman back.

The pale purple threads wrapped around him seemed to loosen slightly as Crypto's attention shifted.

Now!

In Crypto's eyes, the deliberately concealed green glow suddenly shone! The feigned vulnerability and sorrow vanished instantly, replaced by the coldness and cruelty of a successful scheme!

The hand that had been gently stroking Qiong's cheek suddenly moved down, gripping Qiong's throat with lightning speed! At the same time, the energy threads that had loosened slightly tightened abruptly, suppressing the power that Qiong had just gathered!

"Uh!" Caught off guard, Qiong's throat was choked, her breath caught in her throat, and her struggling movements were also firmly locked by the silk threads.

“You’re so easily fooled, you monkey.” Crypto sneered in Kafka’s voice, his fingers slowly tightening as he admired Sora’s face, flushed red from suffocation, and her pained eyes. “Just a slight imitation of her tone, a few tears, and you’re already out of your mind? You lowly creatures ruled by ‘emotions,’ you’re pathetic and laughable.”

Qiong glared at him, her eyes practically spitting fire, but more than that, she felt anger and regret towards herself. He'd been fooled! Once again, he'd been deceived by this despicable pretense!

“However, your reaction confirms my suspicions.” Crypto released his grip on her throat, but the threads still tightly bound Qiong. He/She stood up and brushed off imaginary dust from his/her hands. “You have an extraordinary ‘emotion’ for the original owner of this body. That’s good. It will make the upcoming ‘data collection’ process more…real, and more interesting.”

He walked to the bedside, sat down, and then raised his right leg, gracefully (imitating Kafka's habitual gesture) placing his ankle on his left knee. This position brought his (or her) foot, clad in dark purple stockings and a high heel, almost in front of Sora.

The stockings were made of ultra-thin core-spun yarn, a deep purple almost black, shimmering delicately under the soft room lighting, clinging to every curve of the foot like a second skin. The toes were encased in black high heels, revealing only the rounded outline of the shoe and a small section of the stocking tip. The instep's curve was beautiful, with a faint flesh tone visible through the stockings. The ankles were slender, and the Achilles tendons were clearly defined.

That foot, along with the stockings and high heels that covered it, was now dangling less than twenty centimeters in front of Qiong's nose. He could even smell the faint scent of dust and leather on the stockings, and a trace of... the very faint, cool fragrance of Kaffa's skin.

“First, let’s start with some basic…interactions,” Crypto said in Kafka’s voice, his tone languid and commanding. “As my ‘experimental subject,’ you need to learn how to serve and please your controller. Now, lick my feet clean.”

Qiong abruptly raised her head, staring at him (or her) in disbelief. Licking...feet? Using Kaffa's feet to humiliate him?

“What? You don’t want to?” Crypto raised an eyebrow, his toes twitching slightly inside his stockings and high heels, the tips of his shoes almost touching Qiong’s nose. “Don’t forget, you are now my prisoner. Whether your companion—the original owner of this body—can suffer less depends on your performance. Or do you want to watch her continue to be played with by me in various ways, while you yourself can’t even do this little thing?”

Qiong's teeth clenched so tightly they grinding together, his nails digging deep into his palms until blood seeped out. The extreme humiliation almost overwhelmed him. But Crypto's words struck a nerve. Kaffa… was her consciousness still suffering? If his submission could make her feel better…

"Hurry up." Crypto's foot moved forward a little more, the toe of her stocking almost touching Sora's lips. "My patience is limited. Or, would you prefer me to manipulate your head with the threads and force you to complete this action?"

Qiong closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and when he opened them again, only a cold resolve remained in his eyes. For Kafka… he endured this humiliation.

He slowly, very slowly, leaned forward, bringing his face close to the foot dangling in front of him, clad in stockings and high heels.

Up close, the details of the stockings became clearer. The delicate texture, the feel of them clinging to the skin, the slightly raised veins on the instep, and the area at the toe of the high heel where the stockings were stretched and shimmered slightly. He could even see extremely fine dust particles clinging to the surface of the stockings.

He opened his mouth and stuck out his tongue.

The first touch was his tongue against the toe of the stocking. It was cool, slippery, and carried the rough texture of textiles and the smell of dust. He forced back his nausea and licked the toe of the stocking, removing the dust.

"Hmm... your movements are too stiff," Crypto commented, his voice tinged with enjoyment. "Relax. Imagine you're savoring something delicious. Oh, and take off your shoes, just lick your stockings."

He/She stepped on the heel of the high heel with his/her other foot, and with a gentle push, the black high heel on his/her right foot came off and fell to the floor with a "thud".

Now, before Qiong lay a jade-like foot completely encased in deep purple stockings. The stockings clung tightly to the foot, outlining the perfect arch, and the contours of the five toes were clearly visible. The toes were slightly damp and darker in color from being wrapped for so long. The stockings on the sole and heel were even more tightly textured due to the pressure.

Qiong stuck out his tongue again, this time licking the instep encased in stockings. His tongue traced the silky fabric, clearly feeling the shape of the foot bones and the warmth of the skin. The stockings, damp with saliva, deepened in color, clinging tightly to the skin, almost transparent, revealing the fair skin beneath.

“Yes…that’s it…” Crypto let out a satisfied sigh, leaning back slightly against the headboard, his pale purple eyes half-closed as he appreciated the humiliating service he was receiving from Sora. “Insteps, soles, ankles…lick every part. Remember, this is 'cleaning,' and also a ritual of 'submission.'”

Like a most obedient slave, Sora meticulously licked the silk-stockinged foot inch by inch, following instructions. From the instep to the sole, from the ankle to the Achilles tendon, even the spaces between the toes. Saliva quickly soaked the stockings, making them transparent and sticky, clinging tightly to the skin and outlining an even more alluring silhouette. The scent of the stockings themselves, mixed with Kaffa's faint body fragrance and the smell of Sora's own saliva, created a strange and decadent atmosphere.

His movements, initially stiff and resistant, gradually became an almost numb, mechanical repetition. The humiliation hadn't disappeared, but seemed to be covered by a deeper, more resolute determination to sacrifice himself for Kavka. He just kept licking, as if that could alleviate the torment of the trapped soul.

Crypto was clearly enjoying the process. He/She would occasionally let out a soft moan of pleasure, his/her toes curling and spreading inside the stockings, rubbing against Qiong's tongue and cheeks. His/her other hand would once again caress his/her bare breasts, gently kneading and playing with them, his/her fingertips flicking at the swollen nipples.

“Very good…it seems you learn quickly.” After a while, Crypto lazily spoke, withdrawing his foot. The silk-stockinged foot was already wet from being licked; the deep purple stockings clung tightly to the skin, some areas completely transparent, shimmering with a lascivious, wet sheen. “Now…touch my leg.”

He/She stretched out his/her right leg, lying flat on the bed. Deep purple stockings stretched from the top of his/her thigh to his/her toes, gleaming alluringly under the light. The thigh was full, the calf shapely, with smooth, beautiful lines. The stockings made the skin appear even whiter and smoother, and the red marks from the edges of the stockings were faintly visible.

“Use your hands to feel it properly,” Crypto commanded, while slightly loosening the silk bindings on Qiong’s arms, allowing his hands some freedom of movement. “Start with the thighs, and slowly move downwards. I want you to remember this feel, to remember the texture of every inch of this body’s skin encased in stockings.”

Qiong's arm could finally move, but it was still heavy. He slowly raised his hand and looked at the beautiful leg encased in stockings so close to his face. It was Kafka's leg. He had glimpsed it countless times in battle and noticed it when they were traveling together, but never before had he been able to touch it so closely and under duress.

His hand, trembling, landed on his thigh.

Through the thin layer of stockings, his palm immediately felt an amazing softness and elasticity. The skin on the inner thighs was especially delicate, making the slippery feel of the stockings even more pronounced. Following his command, he slowly slid his palm down the curve of his thigh, feeling the subtle resistance created by the friction between the stockings and his skin, as well as the firmness of the muscles beneath.

The stockings were of excellent quality, ultra-thin and breathable, clinging to the skin without feeling restrictive. He could clearly feel the warmth of the skin in his palm, even the faint pulsation of blood flow. His hand slid down to his knees, where the stockings bunched up in tiny wrinkles due to the bending of the joints; further down, the sculpted muscles of his calves were outlined by the taut stockings, perfectly framing his legs; finally, his slender ankles and the wet foot he had just licked.

"How does it feel?" Crypto asked, his voice laced with mockery. "Aren't your human female legs, adorned with this thing called 'stockings,' quite attractive? No wonder you have so many related... 'cultural artifacts'."

Qiong didn't answer. He simply stroked it mechanically, as if performing some necessary task. But his fingertips lingered involuntarily on the smooth surface of the stockings for a moment longer. The feel… was indeed wonderful. Silky, slightly cool, yet warm against the skin. Through the damp, deep purple stockings, his palm could clearly feel the warmth of the skin and the tension in the muscles. He looked up at Crypto—at the face that belonged to Kafka, now displaying an expression that mixed assessment, impatience, and a certain primal desire.

"Have you touched enough?" Crypto asked in Kafka's voice, his tone unreadable. His/her toes curled slightly inside the stockings, rubbing against Qiong's wrist. "How does it feel? Aren't the legs of this body more perfect than any female you've ever seen?"

Qiong didn't answer. He withdrew his hand, the threads on his arm tightening slightly with his movement, a reminder of his current predicament. He looked into Crypto's eyes, trying to find even the faintest trace of Kafka herself in those pale purple pupils. But there was only a cold green glow, like two eternally burning will-o'-the-wisps.

“Looks like just touching your legs isn’t enough to get you… into the mood.” Crypto pouted, seemingly dissatisfied. He/She sat up straight, his/her hands once again caressing his/her (Kafka's) bare breasts. This time, the movements were no longer rough kneading, but a deliberate, seductive caress. Fingertips traced the contours of the breasts, gently teasing the swollen, erect nipples, making them tremble slightly in the air.

"And here?" He (or she) slightly thrust out her chest, bringing the ravaged breasts closer to Qiong. The red marks and teeth marks on the flesh were clearly visible under the light, the nipples wet and glistening with desire. "Want to... feel them with your own hands? Use your fingers to knead them properly? Just like I did just now?"

Qiong's breath hitched slightly. The sight before him was incredibly impactful. Those perfect breasts, which had once existed only in his secret fantasies, were now exposed to him without any cover, so close, exuding a decadent aura mixed with pain and lust. His throat went dry, and a surge of heat rose uncontrollably deep in his lower abdomen. This was the most instinctive reaction of his body, unrelated to willpower.

But he clenched his teeth, forcing himself to look away. He couldn't look. He couldn't think. This was Kafka's body, being possessed and defiled by a disgusting monster. If he succumbed to desire, touched her, and kneaded her, how would he be any different from this monster? He was saving her, not hurting her!

“Heh…” Crypto let out a short, cold laugh, clearly noticing the subtle reactions in Sora's body and the struggle in her eyes. “You’re reacting, aren’t you? Your body is honest, you monkey. You clearly want it to death, yet you’re pretending to be a gentleman.” His (or her) fingers pinched her nipple harder, twisting it, causing a suppressed groan to escape Kaffa’s lips. “Is it because of the original owner of this body? You think touching her is a betrayal of her?”

He/She released his/her hand, leaned forward, almost pressed against Qiong's body. Warm breath, sweet and fragrant, sprayed on Qiong's face, and through the open collar of the shirt, the swaying breasts almost touched Qiong's chest.

“Don’t be silly.” Crypto’s voice was low and seductive. “She knows nothing right now. Her consciousness is suppressed deep within me, like she’s asleep, having a nightmare. You’re touching this body, not her. And…” He (or she) licked his (or her) lips, the movement alluring and suggestive. “If you behave well, if you satisfy me, maybe I’ll let her… come out for some fresh air occasionally? Let you hear her voice? Feel her… response?”

Qiong's pupils contracted sharply. The suggestion slithered into his mind like a venomous snake. Let Kafka out? Even just for a fleeting moment? The temptation was too great. But at the same time, he was acutely aware that this could very well be another trap, bait that would ensnare him completely.

Seeing that Qiong remained silent, her eyes struggling but unmoved, Crypto's smile gradually faded. He/She frowned, a hint of confusion and annoyance flashing in his/her yellow (greenish) eyes.

"Tsk...troublesome." He/She muttered under his/her breath, leaning back and creating some distance. "You carbon-based monkeys' morals and emotional entanglements are such a pain. Your bodies are ready, your desires are written all over your faces, but you're held back by those vague 'feelings' and 'principles' in your minds...inefficient, so inefficient."

He/She seemed to have lost patience to continue using physical seduction. She stood up, walked to the side, bent down to pick up the black high heel that had been kicked off, and then picked up the black coat that had slipped off her shoulder.

Under the somewhat astonished gaze of Qiong, Crypto began... to put it on.

First, he/she awkwardly gathered up the torn white shirt, but the buttons had popped off and couldn't be fully fastened, leaving the front partially exposed, revealing a large expanse of chest and a deep cleavage. Then, he/she draped the short black jacket over their shoulders, smoothing out the shoulders and letting the empty sleeves hang naturally. Next, he/she bent down and pulled up the black shorts and underwear that had slipped down to mid-thigh, fastening the buttons and adjusting the waistband to make them cling tightly to the curves of the hips and thighs. Finally, he/she sat back on the edge of the bed, carefully putting on the high heel and fastening the ankle strap.

After doing all this, he/she stood up, walked to the full-length mirror in the center of the room, and carefully tidied his/her appearance.

The woman in the mirror, though still somewhat disheveled—her shirt open, stockings torn, legs bruised—had strangely diminished her air of disarray and licentiousness. Her long, wine-red hair was casually gathered and draped over her shoulders. A black coat, draped over her shoulders, added a touch of coldness and mystery. Deep purple stockings encased her long, straight legs, the torn fabric almost serving as a unique adornment. Her high heels clicked firmly on the ground, making her already tall figure appear even more striking.

She looked at herself in the mirror and slowly, very slowly, adjusted her expression.

The twisted, savage grin at the corner of her mouth vanished, replaced by a faint smile, tinged with weariness and detachment. The green glow in her eyes was deliberately suppressed to a minimum, almost invisible, leaving only Kafka's languid and deep pale purple. The inhuman excitement and cruelty between her brows also faded, replaced by a familiar calm, as if everything was under control, and a hint of… barely perceptible vulnerability?

His entire demeanor underwent a dramatic transformation.

From the brutal, lewd, and aggressive alien raider just moments ago, she transformed into the familiar figure to Qiong—powerful, mysterious, and occasionally revealing a hint of weariness and depth—the Star Core Hunter, Kafka.

Qiong held his breath, his heart pounding. He saw "her" again. Not a feigned vulnerability, but a Kaffa closer to her true self. Could it be... could it be real this time? The monster had left? Or perhaps...

Crypto (perhaps now "she" should be used) turned to face Qiong. She didn't speak immediately, but stood there quietly, gazing intently at Qiong with her eyes, now restored to a pale purple. Her gaze was complex, containing too many emotions Qiong couldn't decipher: scrutiny, inquiry, a hint of helplessness, and perhaps... apology?

The room was so quiet that only the faint hum of the air circulation system could be heard.

After a long while, she let out a soft sigh. Her voice was Kaffa's characteristic languid, husky quality, but lighter and softer than usual, as if she had unloaded some kind of burden.

“Qiong…” she began, calling him by his name instead of “darling” or “monkey.” This simple address sent a shiver down Qiong’s spine.

"I..." She seemed hesitant to speak, turning her head slightly to avoid Qiong's gaze and looking at the floor beside her. "I'm sorry. Just now... those things. It wasn't me."

Qiong's throat moved, as if she wanted to say something, but no sound came out.

“That thing… that consciousness called Crypto… it’s very strong.” She continued, her tone calm, but Qiong could hear the suppressed tremor in her voice. “It forcibly suppressed my consciousness and took over my body. I can see and feel everything that’s happening, but I… I can’t control it. It’s like being trapped in a glass coffin, watching my body being… being treated like that.”

Her fingers unconsciously clenched the edge of her coat, her knuckles turning slightly white.

“He read parts of my memories, mimicked my tone and habits… to deceive you, to toy with you.” She looked up at Qiong again, her pale purple eyes misting over, but she forcibly held back her tears. “I’m sorry… for letting you see me like that… for making you go through all that…”

Qiong's nose stung with tears. Was it really her? Was this truly Kaffa? The tone, the expression, the subtle gestures… all matched the Kaffa she remembered so perfectly. Especially that rarely shown vulnerability and apology hidden beneath the calm… could that monster really fake it?

"You...how could you..." Qiong's voice was extremely dry.

“I don’t know either.” Kafka shook her head, her wine-red hair swaying gently with the movement. “It might be your power… When you tried to break through those threads just now, the energy of the star core seemed to interfere with him. Or it could be that he hasn’t fully adapted to my body yet, and there was a temporary vulnerability… In any case, I seized an opportunity and temporarily regained some control. But it’s very unstable, and he could suppress me again at any time.”

She took two steps forward and knelt down in front of Qiong. This position allowed her to look Qiong in the eye, and also allowed Qiong to see every expression on her face more clearly. Pale, tired, with slightly red eyes, but her gaze was clear and firm.

“Qiong, listen, we don’t have much time.” Her tone became urgent and serious. “That monster is dangerous. His goal isn’t just my body. He’s searching for the Star Core fragments and collecting…human data. We must stop him. But in my current state, it’s difficult to fight him alone. I need your help.”

"What should I do?" Qiong blurted out almost without thinking. Whether it was another trap or not, he simply couldn't refuse when "Kafka" asked him for help with such eyes and tone.

Kafka didn't answer immediately. She reached out and gently stroked Sora's cheek. The silky feel of the glove remained, but this time, the movement was incredibly gentle, filled with tenderness and... longing? Her fingertips trembled slightly as they brushed over the red marks left on Sora's face by the silk threads, and over his tightly pursed lips.

“Your power… the power of the Star Core, has a special restraining effect on spiritual entities,” she whispered, her voice as soft as a whisper. “If we can establish a deeper… connection, perhaps you can transfer your power to me, helping me to completely suppress or even expel him.”

"Connect?" Qiong's heart skipped a beat.

"Hmm." Kafka nodded, her face slightly flushed, avoiding Sora's gaze, but she didn't withdraw her hand. "Spiritual resonance requires... intimate physical contact as a bridge. Especially... when lips touch and breaths mingle, spiritual resonance is most likely to occur."

Her meaning couldn't be clearer.

Qiong's breathing instantly became heavy. He looked at the face so close to his, the face he had depicted countless times in his dreams. At this moment, she had shed her usual mystery and aloofness, appearing so real, so vulnerable, so... in need of him. Her pale purple eyes shimmered with tears, filled with pleading, trust, and a hint of barely perceptible shyness.

At this moment, the defenses of reason completely collapsed.

Traps, disguises, alien monsters… he forgot all about them. At this moment, he only wanted to believe the person in front of him, only wanted to respond to her plea for help, only wanted to… kiss her.

He leaned forward slowly and tentatively.

Kafka didn't flinch. She closed her eyes, her long eyelashes fluttering gently like butterfly wings. The blush on her pale face deepened, spreading all the way to her ears. Her lips parted slightly, her breath warm and carrying a faint sweet fragrance.

The two were getting closer and closer.

Qiong could smell a clearer scent emanating from her—no longer the smell of sweat and blood after battle, but the unique aura of Kaffa herself, cold as metal yet carrying a hint of warmth. He could see the fine downy hairs on her face and the delicate lines on her slightly trembling lips.

Finally, his lips gently pressed against hers.

It feels soft, slightly cool, and a little moist.

At first, it was just a light touch, like a tentative exploration. But soon, Kafka responded. Her lips actively and awkwardly caressed his, her tongue cautiously probing out to lick the cleft of his lips.

Qiong shuddered, as if an electric current surged through his body from their joined lips. Without hesitation, he opened his mouth and took her lower lip into his mouth, gently sucking on it. At the same time, his tongue explored inside, searching for hers.

Kafka let out a soft, kitten-like whimper, obediently opening her teeth to let his tongue invade. The two tongues immediately intertwined, exploring each other, licking each other, exchanging saliva and breath.

The kiss, which began as a gentle, tentative exploration, quickly grew passionate and deep. It was as if Qiong wanted to release all his worries, anger, and long-suppressed emotions through this kiss. He sucked on her tongue forcefully, licking her palate and teeth, as if he wanted to devour her whole. Kafka was initially somewhat passive, but quickly caught up, even beginning to respond clumsily, her tongue entwining with his, making soft, blush-inducing sucking and slurping sounds.

"Mmm...uh..." Broken moans escaped from between their joined lips. Kafka's body trembled slightly, whether from excitement or something else, it was hard to tell. Her hand slid down from Sora's cheek, encircling his neck and pulling him closer to her. Their bodies pressed tightly together, and through their clothes, Sora could clearly feel the softness and warmth of her breasts.

The kiss lasted a long time, until both of them were panting and their lungs protested from lack of oxygen, forcing them to separate.

As the lips parted, a thin, shimmering silver thread was drawn out, shimmering briefly under the light before breaking apart.

Kafka's cheeks were flushed, her eyes were glazed, and her lips were swollen and moist from being kissed. She was slightly parted and breathing heavily. Her chest heaved violently, and her breasts swayed up and down with her breath through the open collar of her shirt, her nipples hardening and rubbing against the lining of the shirt.

Qiong's condition wasn't much better. He was also breathing rapidly. Looking at the beautiful, flushed face so close to his, he felt an even stronger surge of heat rise from his lower abdomen and rush to the top of his head. The pale purple threads wrapped around his body had quietly loosened most of their length, leaving only a few loosely draped over his wrists and ankles.

“Qiong…” Kafka’s voice was terribly hoarse, carrying a languidness born of passion and a hint of…pleading? “Help me…come closer…I need you…”

She took Sora's hand and guided it to her (Kafka's) waist. Then, she began to unbuckle the belt of Sora's uniform pants.

Qiong's mind went blank for a moment, almost stopping his thought process. He looked at Kafka's lowered, focused profile, at her slightly trembling fingers clumsily fiddling with the metal buckle, and felt the warmth emanating from her fingertips through the fabric of her pants... All his doubts and vigilance were swept away by his most primal desires at this moment.

The belt buckle was unbuckled. The zipper was pulled down.

Kafka's hand reached inside.

Her fingertips first touched the fabric of the underwear. Then, she groped around and found that part that was already as hard as iron and burning hot. Through the thin fabric of the underwear, her fingers gently grasped it.

"!" Qiong gasped, his body stiffening abruptly. The feeling of being enveloped by a warm, soft hand was like the strongest electric current, instantly shattering all his reason.

Kafka looked up at him. Her pale purple eyes were brimming with a strange light, a mixture of shyness, curiosity, and determination. She bit her lower lip, and then, slowly and resolutely, pulled down the edge of Sora's panties.

The already pent-up penis sprang forth, standing erect between the two. Thick, long, and hard, its purplish-red glans swollen and glistening with engorgement, a drop of clear pre-ejaculate seeping from the urethral opening, reflecting a lewd, wet sheen under the light. Blue veins coiled around the shaft, highlighting its astonishing hardness and size.

Kafka's eyes widened slightly, seemingly stunned by the sight before her. She swallowed instinctively, her Adam's apple bobbing. Then, she reached out her other hand and gently touched the burning hot glans with her fingertips.

"Ah..." Qiong let out a suppressed groan, her waist involuntarily arching forward.

Kafka seemed encouraged. Without further hesitation, she lowered her head, opened her mouth, and slowly, tentatively, took the glans into her mouth.

Warm, moist, and firm.

Qiong felt as if his soul was being sucked out. His glans was enveloped by the soft mucous membrane of his mouth, and his tongue clumsily but diligently licked the coronal sulcus and the tip of his penis, bringing waves of intensely pleasurable sensations. He couldn't help but reach out and press down on the back of Kafka's head, his fingers running through her wine-red hair.

"Mmm...uh..." Kafka made a muffled nasal sound, seemingly a little uncomfortable, but she did not resist. Instead, she tried even harder to swallow and spit out the penis. She tried to swallow the penis deeper, but she was obviously inexperienced. As soon as the glans touched the back of her throat, it triggered a gagging reflex, forcing her to pull back a little. She coughed violently a few times, and tears of primal urges welled up in the corners of her eyes.

"Slow down...slow down..." Qiong gasped for breath, releasing his hand from the back of her head and instead gently stroking her hair.

Kafka lifted her tear-filled face, glanced at him, her eyes filled with a defiant stubbornness. She took a deep breath, adjusted her position, and lowered her head again, taking his penis back into her mouth. This time, she wasn't in a rush. Instead, she tightly gripped the frenulum below the glans with her lips, licking and swirling it skillfully with her tongue, while simultaneously holding the base of his penis with her hand, moving it up and down in tandem with her oral sucking.

"Hiss...yes...that's it..." Qiong tilted her head back and let out a satisfied sigh. Waves of pleasure surged through him, assaulting his nerve endings. He could feel every fold of Kafka's oral cavity, feel the soft yet powerful licks of her tongue, feel the swallowing motions and warm pressure deep in her throat...all of this drove him mad.

Kafka seemed to gradually find her rhythm and technique. Her swallowing became smoother, each time taking the penis all the way to her throat before slowly spitting it out, her tongue paying special attention to the glans and urethral opening. Saliva, not having time to be swallowed, flowed down the corners of her mouth, forming long, silvery strands that dripped onto her chest and the floor. Her nose occasionally brushed against the hair on Kyō's lower abdomen, producing soft humming sounds.

The room was filled with lewd sounds of water, sucking, and the heavy breathing of the two.

Qiong felt her limit rapidly approaching. Her lower back ached, her ejaculation was about to begin, and that familiar, impending urge surged through her body.

“Kafka…I…I’m going to cum…” he warned breathlessly.

Kafka paused for a moment, then instead of stopping, she quickened the speed and intensity of her thrusting, while raising her eyes and looking at him with her moist, pleading pale purple eyes, making muffled "ooh" sounds in her throat, as if saying, "Shoot it in."

This final visual and auditory stimulus became the last straw that broke the camel's back.

"Ugh—!!!"

Qiong let out a low growl, his waist thrusting forward violently, his penis plunging deep into Kafka's mouth, pressing against her throat. Immediately afterward, streams of hot, thick semen gushed out like a flood, pouring into her esophagus.

"Ugh! Cough cough... gulp... gulp..." Kafka's body trembled violently, choked by the sudden large amount of semen, tears streaming down her face. She endured the discomfort, her Adam's apple bobbing rapidly as she tried to swallow. Some of the semen she couldn't swallow spilled from the corners of her mouth, mixing with saliva, flowing down her chin and dripping onto her collarbone and open chest, leaving streaks of white fluid on her fair skin.

The ejaculation continued for seven or eight spurts before gradually subsiding. Qiong leaned back against the wall, completely exhausted, panting heavily. His penis was still erect, but the afterglow of ejaculation temporarily robbed him of his ability to think.

Kafka slowly withdrew the semi-erect penis from her mouth. The glans and shaft were covered in glistening saliva and residual semen. She coughed violently a few times, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, but her face and chest were already a mess. The pungent smell of semen filled the air.

Then, under Qiong's somewhat bewildered gaze, she lowered her head, stuck out her tongue, and began to carefully, inch by inch, lick and clean the semen and saliva remaining on Qiong's penis.

Her movements were slow and deliberate. Her tongue traced every groove of the glans, licked every vein on the shaft, and even took the two heavy testicles into her mouth, gently sucking and licking them to ensure not a single stain was left. Her expression was focused, as if performing some kind of sacred ritual; her pale purple eyes held no disgust or humiliation, only a strange peace and…satisfaction?

She licked the penis and scrotum clean, until they were spotless, before raising her head and giving Qiong a tired but unusually gentle smile. A few drops of semen still clung to her lips and chin, but she didn't seem to care.

“Data collection…partially complete.” She said in Kafka’s voice, her tone calm, as if the lewd scene just now was merely a routine experimental procedure. “The physiological reactions of male ejaculation, the composition, temperature, taste, and volume of semen…preliminary data have been recorded.”

Qiong looked at her, her feelings extremely complicated. The intense pleasure from just now still lingered in her body, but seeing the traces of semen and tears on Kafka's face, and watching her calmly talk about "data collection," a huge sense of absurdity and guilt surged up again.

Kafka seemed to sense his unease. She stood up, walked to Sora, and then... did something that surprised Sora even more.

Kafka stood up, walked to Sora, and then... did something that made Sora even more astonished.

She raised her hand and pulled her already loosely covering white shirt completely open to both sides. Her black coat slipped off her shoulders and fell to the ground with a soft thud. Now, her upper body was completely naked, with only her sprung black bra hanging loosely on her arm. Her ravaged, snow-white breasts were completely exposed to the air, the nipples red and swollen, still smeared with the semi-dried semen that had splashed onto them during the oral sex.

But her movements carried no hint of lewdness or provocation. On the contrary, her expression was unusually calm, even possessing a kind of... almost sacred tenderness. Her pale purple eyes gazed at the sky, devoid of the previous playfulness, vulnerability, or desire, leaving only a deep, all-encompassing tranquility.

She stepped forward and knelt down in front of Qiong. Then, she stretched out her arms and gently pulled Qiong's head into her embrace, letting his cheek rest against her bare, soft, and warm breasts.

Qiong's body froze instantly. Her cheeks were enveloped in an astonishing softness and warmth, and her nose was filled with a complex scent that blended milky fragrance, the smell of sweat, the pungent smell of semen, and Kafka's own cool aura. He could clearly hear the steady, powerful heartbeat in her chest, thump, thump, thump, like some ancient drumbeat.

"Shh..." Kaffa's voice came from above, as soft as a feather. "Don't move. Just stay here."

Her hand gently stroked the back of Qiong's head, her fingers running through his slightly sweaty hair, the movement slow and soothing. Her other hand encircled his shoulder, pulling him closer into her embrace.

This posture...this embrace...is full of protectiveness and...maternal instinct.

Qiong's mind was in complete chaos. Just moments ago it was intense oral sex and ejaculation, and now it had turned into this eerily gentle embrace? What was going on? Was it Kafka? Or was that monster playing some new trick?

"You must be very tired?" Kaffa's voice continued, still gentle. "After going through so much... battles, being bound, being forced to do those things... you must be very scared, confused, and also... angry."

Her fingers gently combed through Qiong's hair.

“It’s okay. Here, you can put all that aside for now.” She lowered her head, her lips almost touching Qiong’s ear, her breath warm. “Treat me as… a place you can rely on. A place… where you can feel at ease.”

Qiong's body involuntarily relaxed. The soft touch on his cheek, the gentle words in his ear, and this reassuring embrace... all of this acted like the most effective tranquilizer, dissolving his tense nerves and guardedness. Even though his reason was still screaming for danger, his body and emotions greedily absorbed this rare, false warmth.

“You know what?” Kaffa’s voice carried a hint of nostalgia, “When I was still… a person of my own, I would sometimes think, what would I do if one day I had someone I needed to protect?”

Her fingers traced the back of Qiong's neck, sending a slight shiver down her spine.

“That’s probably it…” She paused, her voice becoming even softer. “Although this body is now… defiled, possessed by that monster… at least for this moment, I want to use it to do something… not so bad.”

Qiong's heart clenched painfully. Defiled? Possessed? Was she still Kaffa after all? At least part of her? Was she confiding in him? Was she using this brief period of control to offer him comfort?

“Qiong…” Kafka called his name, her tone carrying a strange pleading tone. “Could you… call me?”

Qiong raised her head, gently pulling away from her embrace, and looked up at her. Her face was inches away, her pale purple eyes shimmering with tears, her expression so tender it was heartbreaking.

"What... is your name?" Qiong's voice was hoarse.

A faint blush, tinged with shyness and anticipation, rose on Kafka's face. She bit her lower lip and then whispered:

"Mother."

Qiong was struck dumb, completely stunned.

Mother?

Are you kidding me?! Kafka made him call her "Mom"? This... how is this possible? This is absurd! This is absolutely that monster's twisted sense of humor! It's a new way to humiliate someone!

But looking at Kaffa's expression—that mixture of expectation, vulnerability, and a deep-seated longing in her eyes—Sora found herself unable to refuse immediately. That look was too real, so real it didn't seem feigned. It was as if, for a moment, this woman had truly placed herself in the role of "mother," yearning for her child's recognition and affection.

Was it that some emotion in Kaffa's subconscious was manipulated and distorted by the monster? Or did the monster read her memories and discover a hidden corner of her heart, a secret about "motherhood"?

"I..." Qiong opened her mouth, but couldn't utter the syllable. It was too strange, too shameful, too...wrong.

“It’s alright.” Kafka seemed a little disappointed, but quickly regained her gentle smile. She pressed Sora’s head back to her chest, this time adjusting her position so that Sora’s lips were directly in front of her right nipple.

The swollen, erect nipple still had dried semen clinging to it, but under the warmth of her body, it exuded an even more lewd aura.

“If you can’t say it out loud… then show it with your actions.” Kafka’s voice was coaxing. “Like a baby… suckle. Here… even though it’s dirty, at least… it can still give you some warmth and comfort.”

Her fingers gently pressed Qiong's head, drawing him closer to her chest.

Qiong's lips touched that nipple. Slightly hard, with a salty, fishy taste and the smell of semen. His reason was frantically resisting, but his body seemed to be controlled by some invisible force. Perhaps it was the maternal embrace just now that had broken down his defenses, perhaps it was the gentleness and vulnerability in Kaffa's voice that made it impossible for him to refuse, or perhaps... it was just the most primal desire for breasts and milk that was at play.

He opened his mouth and took the nipple into his mouth.

"Mmm..." Kaffa let out a satisfied sigh, her body trembling slightly. She pressed her hand harder against the back of Sora's head, pressing his lips tightly against her areola. "Yes...that's it...suck...suck harder..."

Qiong closed his eyes, as if to escape reality. He began to suckle. At first, it was gentle, but soon, encouraged and pressed by Kafka, he increased the pressure. His tongue circled the nipple, his teeth gently nibbled at the areola, like a real baby trying to draw milk from this body.

Of course, there was no milk. Only the smell of skin, the saltiness of sweat, the fishy odor of semen, and Kafka's increasingly heavy breathing and suppressed moans.

“Ah…yes…that’s it…my…child…” Kafka’s voice became broken, trembling with emotion. Her other hand also caressed Sora’s head, her fingers digging deep into his hair, as if trying to meld him into her own body. “Suck…suck everything from me…let me…feel needed…”

Qiong's sucking grew stronger and more intense. A strange, immoral pleasure mixed with humiliation and a strange sense of security intertwined within him. He felt as if he had truly become a helpless infant, seeking solace in the embrace of his "mother," even though this "mother's" body was being possessed by a monster, even though this "mother's" milk was fake, consisting only of the sweat of lust.

After a long while, Kafka gently pushed Sora's head away. Her chest was wet, her nipples were swollen and shiny from being sucked, and they were surrounded by tiny kiss marks and teeth marks. Her cheeks were flushed an unnatural red, her pale purple eyes were misty, her lips were slightly parted, and she was breathing heavily.

"That's enough..." Her voice was hoarse, languid with lingering desire. "If you keep sucking... you'll ruin this place."

She glanced down at the gruesome marks on her chest, then at Qiong's somewhat bewildered face, a complex smile playing on her lips. That smile seemed to hold satisfaction, weariness, and even a hint of… the triumph of a successful plan?

“It seems… ‘maternal comfort’ is working well,” she murmured to herself, as if evaluating experimental data. “It effectively reduces the target’s wariness and resistance, and induces dependence and compliant behavior… It’s worth recording.”

Qiong's consciousness gradually returned. Hearing her words, a chill crept up her spine again. Data collection again? Everything just now—that gentle embrace, that maternal atmosphere, that coaxing gesture of him suckling her breast… was all just part of an experiment? Just to observe his reaction?

Kafka didn't seem to care about his thoughts. She stood up, her movements a little unsteady—the wound on her left leg was still throbbing. She walked to the bedside and patted the soft gray mattress.

“Come here,” she commanded, her tone regaining its previous sense of control, but without the overt aggression, more like Kavka’s usual unquestionable languor. “‘Basic interaction’ and ‘soothing procedures’ are complete. Now, we enter the core data collection phase—observation of genital intercourse behavior.”

Qiong didn't move. He sat on the floor, looking at the woman standing by the bed. Her upper body was still naked, her chest covered with marks he had left, and her lower body was wearing torn stockings and shorts, with blood seeping from the wounds on her legs. But she stood upright, her eyes calm, as if the "mother" who had just gently embraced him and coaxed him to suckle her breasts had never existed.

“Still hesitating?” Kaffa raised an eyebrow, crossing her arms over her chest, a gesture that made her breasts appear even more prominent. “Don’t forget, your ‘Kaffa’… whether she’s feeling any better depends on your cooperation. And…”

She paused, walked up to Qiong, bent down, and gently lifted his chin with her gloved fingers. Her face was very close, her pale purple eyes looking directly at him.

“Just now… you were really into it, weren’t you?” Her voice was low and seductive. “Your body is honest; it really likes that feeling. Being hugged, being comforted, being allowed to take like a child… there’s nothing shameful about it, darling. It’s the most primal instinct.”

Her fingertips caressed Qiong's chin.

“And now… let’s return to our more primal instincts.” She straightened up and began unbuttoning her black shorts. “I need to observe the entire mating process. From penetration to thrusting, to orgasm, to ejaculation… every single detail. And you are the male sample I’ve chosen. It’s your… honor.”

Kafka's fingers hooked the edge of her black shorts, pulling them down along with the small black lace panties underneath. The fabric rustled softly against the torn stockings on her thighs, finally sliding down to her ankles. She lifted her foot, kicking the shorts and panties away completely, leaving them piled on the floor.

Now, all she was wearing was that open white shirt, the black coat draped over her shoulders (which had mostly slipped down), the torn dark purple pantyhose, and those asymmetrical black high heels. The hem of the shirt barely covered the top of her thighs, but when she spread her legs, her most intimate parts were completely exposed.

Her burgundy pubic hair was neatly trimmed and sparse, lying softly against her slightly raised mons pubis. Her labia, slightly swollen and glistening with moisture from the previous rough violation and continued stimulation, revealed a more delicate pink inner wall through the cleft, along with a constant flow of clear, lustful fluid that trickled down her inner thighs. A few scattered, curly red pubic hairs, damp with the fluid, clung to her fair inner thighs like some kind of erotic decoration.

She turned around, her back to the ceiling, hands on the edge of the bed, her back arched slightly, raising her round, pert buttocks high. Deep purple stockings clung tightly to her buttocks, gleaming alluringly under the light; the edges of the stockings dug deep into her plump flesh, creating deep indentations. The torn edges of the stockings were rolled up, revealing a wound beneath, already covered with a thin layer of scab. Between her buttocks, her small, pink anus was slightly contracted; below that, her vulva was fully open and wet.

“Let’s start from behind.” Kafka turned her head to the side, her pale purple eyes glancing at Sora, a familiar, controlling smile playing on her lips. “This position… should allow you to penetrate very deeply, and it will also make it easier for me to observe your reactions and… the process of ejaculation.”

Her voice was calm, as if she were stating experimental steps, but the slight tremor at the end of her voice and the involuntary swaying of her hips betrayed her body’s instinctive anticipation and tension.

Qiong stared at the beautiful body before him, completely defenseless and displayed in the most humiliating posture. Anger, humiliation, worry, desire... all sorts of emotions churned in his chest like boiling magma. But more than anything, there was a numbness born of being driven to the brink, a sense of despair, and... an uncontrollable physiological reaction to the intense stimulation of the scene before him.

His penis had already become erect again, so hard it hurt, the purplish-red glans swollen and shiny, and clear pre-ejaculate was constantly seeping from the urethral opening, slowly flowing down the veiny shaft.

He stood up, the last few pale purple threads wrapped around his wrists and ankles quietly disappearing. He walked to the bedside and stood behind Kafka. From this angle, he could see more clearly the perfect curves of her hips, the taut muscles of her thighs beneath the stockings, the constantly contracting and expanding wet opening, and even a glimpse of pink flesh deep inside.

He reached out, his hand trembling slightly, and grasped his hot, hard penis. The glans pressed against the wet, muddy entrance.

It feels warm and soft to the touch, and has an amazing suction power.

Kafka's body trembled slightly, her fingers tightening on the edge of the bed, her nails digging into the mattress fabric. But she didn't flinch; instead, she raised her hips higher and lowered her waist, making her vulva more prominent, as if silently inviting her.

"Come...in." She urged softly, her voice tinged with barely perceptible tension. "Slow down...let me record the initial resistance, temperature, and...the feeling of expansion."

Qiong closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and then used her waist and abdomen to thrust forward.

"Ugh—!"

The thick, long, hard, and hot penis slid in without any obstruction, all the way to the root, into the depths of that tight, moist passage.

Kafka let out a short, high-pitched scream, her body jerking forward until her forehead slammed against the sheets. The immense sensation of the foreign object, the overwhelming feeling of being instantly filled, and the intense pleasure mixed with pain from the penis rubbing against her sensitive inner walls caused all the muscles in her body to tense instantly. Her legs, encased in deep purple stockings, trembled violently, and the heels of her high heels sank deeply into the carpet.

Qiong gasped. It was too tight…too hot…too wet…The tender flesh inside seemed alive, immediately wrapping around him in layers, frantically squeezing and sucking at his penis, bringing an unparalleled feeling of being enveloped and pleasure. He could clearly feel the head of his penis hitting a soft and elastic barrier—was it the cervix?

He paused for a few seconds, allowing both of them to adjust to the sudden union. Then, he began to slowly thrust in and out.

It started slowly and carefully. The penis moved in and out of the wet and tight passage, making gurgling, lewd sounds, and more love juice was squeezed out, flowing down the part where the two were joined, soaking the stockings on her inner thighs and his pubic hair.

“Ah… um… yes… that’s it…” Kafka buried her face in the sheets, letting out suppressed, intermittent moans. Her voice was no longer calm, but filled with a trembling from the impact of pleasure and… excitement? “Record… initial thrusting frequency… approximately 0.5 times per second… insertion depth… fully submerged… internal wall contraction intensity… high… vaginal lubrication… continuously increasing…”

She was actually "recording"! While being penetrated, she reported "data" in a trembling voice!

Qiong's anger was reignited, but more so by a desire that surged even higher, stimulated by the bizarre scene. He increased the force and speed of his thrusts.

"Slap! Slap! Slap!"

The sounds of flesh colliding echoed in the silent room. Each thrust was forceful, penetrating to the deepest point, his glans slamming against the cervix with a dull "plop." Kafka's body swayed back and forth with each impact, her buttocks heaving and the flesh encased in stockings rippling alluringly. Beneath her open shirt, her snow-white breasts swayed violently, the nipples rubbing against the rough sheets.

"Ah! Slower, slower... It's too deep... It's hitting the spot... Ah ha!" Kafka's moans became high-pitched and broken as she tried to maintain the "record," but her words were quickly overwhelmed by the more intense pleasure. "Data... Interference... Cervical os is being impacted... Frequency... Increase... Ah um!"

Qiong's breathing was heavy and labored, sweat streaming down his forehead and back. He gripped Kafka's slender waist with both hands, his fingers digging deep into her soft sides to hold her in place, and then began an even more ferocious thrust. Each penetration was fast and brutal, as if he wanted to nail her entire body to the bed.

"Call my name," Qiong growled, her movements continuing.

"Wh...what?" Kafka turned around blankly, her pale purple eyes filled with mist and a manipulated, bewildered look.

"Call my name!" Qiong repeated, giving it a hard push.

"Sora... Ah!" Kafka screamed.

"No!" Qiong abruptly pulled the penis out until only the glans remained, then thrust it in again forcefully. "Call me in her voice! Call me in Kaffa's voice!"

Kavka's body convulsed violently. She seemed to understand something. After a few seconds of silence, when she spoke again, her voice had changed.

It was no longer that calm, experimental tone, nor the broken moans of pleasure. Instead… it was the voice that Sora knew—a voice with a husky, languid quality, seemingly capable of stealing one's soul, the voice of Kaffa.

But at this moment, the voice was filled with lust, accompanied by gasps and sobs.

"Darling...ah...slower, slower...you're going in too deep...mmm..."

Qiong shuddered, as if those words had injected him with even greater power. He thrust even more frantically, his penis ramming wildly inside that tight, wet hole, stirring up even more gurgling sounds.

“We’ll talk about it again!” he commanded.

“Darling… Qiong…you’re so hard…so hot…you’re filling me up so much…ah…it’s going to…break…” Kafka said haltingly, her voice seductive and pleading. “It feels so good inside…being fucked so hard by you like this…mmm…harder…yes…right there…you’re hitting the spot…it hurts so much…ah!”

She perfectly mimicked what Kaffa might say in this situation—a mixture of teasing, encouragement, pleading, and the thrill of being conquered. Every word was like the strongest aphrodisiac, stimulating Sora's nerves and making him even more out of control.

“Tell me…who are you?” Qiong gasped for breath, sweat dripping onto her smooth back.

“I…I am Kaffa…I’m your…Kaffa…Ah!” Another deep thrust turned her words into a scream. “Your…bitch…your…slut…fuck me hard…darling…use your big cock…fuck me until I’m bruised…ah!”

The contrast between the vulgar and obscene words escaping from that mouth that always spoke of obscure philosophy and elegant provocation was devastating. Qiong let out a low growl and flipped her over, making her lie on her back on the bed.

This position completely exposed her to him. Her long, wine-red hair was disheveled and spread across the gray sheets; her cheeks were flushed, her eyes were unfocused and glazed, and her lips were swollen and slightly parted, constantly emitting moans. Beneath her open shirt, her breasts heaved violently with her panting, her nipples erect and swollen. At the tear in her dark purple stockings, a few drops of blood seeped from the wound on her thigh due to the intense movements, mingling with the flowing love fluid and sweat, leaving a murky stain on the stockings and her skin. Her legs were wide open, the entrance to her vagina swollen and everted, constantly swallowing and releasing the thick, hard penis, bringing out foamy love fluid.

Qiong leaned down, placed his hands on either side of her head, and gazed into her eyes.

“Look at me and say that.” His voice was hoarse.

Kafka strained to focus her gaze on the dome above. Her pale purple eyes shimmered with moisture, filled with desire, submission, and... a subtle, almost imperceptible depth that belonged to "Kafka."

“I am Kaffa…” she gasped, sticking out her tongue to lick her dry lips. “The Star Core Hunter… the one who weaves the web of fate… and… your woman… ah!”

Qiong kissed her, swallowing her moans and confessions. His tongue roughly invaded, entwining with hers. The thrusting of his lower body did not stop at all, but became even more violent. The mattress creaked under the weight, and the sounds of flesh colliding, the wet sounds of lips and tongues intertwining, mixed with their heavy breathing and moans, created a primal and erotic symphony in the room.

The kiss was long and intense, lasting until they were both nearly breathless before finally separating. Silver threads clung to their lips.

"Change positions," Qiong commanded, pulling out her penis.

Kafka obediently rolled over, lying face down on the bed, burying her face in the pillow, leaving only her high-raised buttocks exposed. The deep purple stockings stretched taut over her buttocks, outlining their full curves, the edges of the torn stockings trembling slightly with her breath. Her vaginal opening was slightly open from the intense thrusting, wet and glistening with a viscous fluid mixed with vaginal fluid and pre-ejaculate, flowing down her inner thighs and soaking the stockings, leaving deeper welts.

Qiong knelt behind her, grasped her stocking-covered buttocks with both hands, and spread them apart, fully exposing her muddy vulva and tight anus. Then, holding his own penis, which was covered in semen, he aimed at the entrance again and thrust it in hard.

"Ah—!" Kafka's body arched upwards abruptly, a painful groan escaping her throat as she was penetrated. The angle allowed for deeper penetration, the glans almost hitting her cervix with every thrust. She gripped the pillow tightly, her knuckles white, her long, wine-red hair rubbing wildly against the pillow with each impact.

Qiong began a new round of conquest. The rear-entry position allowed him to thrust more forcefully, each time as if trying to nail her into the mattress. The sound of their buttocks slapping against each other was louder, echoing in the room. He leaned down, one hand on the bed, the other reaching around to her front, roughly kneading her swaying breasts, his fingers pinching and twisting her swollen nipples.

"Ah...darling...so deep...it's all the way in...mmm..." Kafka's face was buried in the pillow, her voice muffled, but her lewd moans and words were crystal clear. "Your cock...is so big...it's stretching my pussy so wide...it's all been pounded up inside...ah!"

Her hips swayed back and forth with each impact, the stockings rubbing against her abdomen with a soft rustling sound. Sweat soaked her back, her open shirt clinging to her skin, outlining the hollow of her spine and the shape of her shoulder blades. The wounds on her legs began to bleed again from the intense friction, the blood mixing with sweat and vaginal fluid, spreading a murky dark red stain on the deep purple stockings.

"Tell me... who are you?" Qiong panted heavily, her movements continuing.

“I am Kafka… I am the Star Core Hunter… I am your… most horny bitch… ah!” she answered haltingly, her voice trembling from the impact. “Harder… fuck me harder… with your big cock… shoot your semen… all into my uterus… let me get pregnant… with your child… ah!”

These extremely explicit and lewd words were like adding fuel to the fire. Qiong let out a low growl, and the speed of his thrusts reached its peak. His penis, like a pile driver, went in and out of that wet and tight vagina at high speed, bringing out a large amount of white, foamy vaginal fluid, which splashed between their legs and onto the sheets. Kafka's moans turned into continuous, high-pitched screams, her body convulsing violently, and her inner walls began to contract and tighten uncontrollably, like countless tiny mouths desperately sucking at the invading penis.

"I'm...I'm going...darling...I'm going...ahh ...

With a drawn-out, almost piercing scream, Kafka's body stiffened abruptly, then began to convulse violently. The spasms within her vaginal walls reached their peak, and a warm liquid gushed from deep within her body, drenching the head of Qiong's penis—it was a squirting orgasm.

Qiong was also stimulated by the extreme tightness and humid heat to the point of losing control of her ejaculation.

"Ouch—! Here it is!"

He pressed hard against the deepest part, his glans slamming against the cervix. Then, hot, thick semen gushed out like a flood, one spurt after another, pouring into the depths of the convulsing uterus.

"Ah...it's so hot...it's inside...so much...it's filling me up...ah..." Kafka lay limp on the bed, her body still twitching slightly, moaning intermittently. A large amount of semen overflowed from the place where the two were tightly joined, flowing down her thighs and stockings, spreading a large wet, cloudy stain on the gray sheets.

Qiong lay on top of her, breathing heavily. His penis slowly softened inside her, but it was still tightly enveloped by her contracting flesh. Sweat seeped from between their pressed skin, mixing with semen and vaginal fluid, creating a muddy mess.

The room was filled with the strong, pungent smell of sex, a mixture of sweat, semen, vaginal fluid, and a very faint hint of blood.

After a short rest, Qiong withdrew her semi-erect penis. Long strands of semen and vaginal fluid were drawn out. Kafka rolled over, lying on her back on the bed, her chest heaving, her eyes staring unfocused at the ceiling. Her body was a mess: her chest, lower abdomen, and thighs were covered in dried and fresh semen; her torn stockings were stained with blood and bodily fluids; and her open shirt was completely soaked with sweat, clinging to her skin.

Qiong sat on the edge of the bed, watching all of this. Weariness, emptiness, and a deeper sense of guilt welled up inside him. But before he could gather his thoughts, Kafka reached out and gently grasped the spot where he was beginning to lift his head again.

"The data... isn't all collected yet." Her voice was still hoarse, but it had regained its languid calm, only with a touch of post-coital softness. "Just once... not enough. We need more samples... different positions... different stimuli and reactions..."

She sat up, ignoring the filth on her body, crawled to Qiong's side, and straddled his lap. This movement brought her slippery, muddy opening back into contact with his semi-erect penis. She held it with her hands and slowly sat down.

"Mmm..." She let out a satisfied sigh, wrapped her arms around Qiong's neck, pressed her face against the crook of his neck, and breathed warmly on his skin. "This time... let me do it. You... feel it."

She began to move up and down, using her body weight to swallow and release Qiong's penis. Her movements were initially clumsy and slow, but she quickly found her rhythm. She twisted her waist, letting the penis rotate and grind inside her, searching for the most sensitive spots. Each time she sat down, she went deep, letting the glans slam heavily against her cervix; each time she lifted, she almost completely withdrew, leaving only the glans lodged at the entrance, before slowly swallowing it again.

"Ah...darling...your...is so big...inside...moving around...it feels so good..." she whispered in Qiong's ear, uttering the most lewd words in Kafka's voice. "Do you like me riding you like this? Do you like watching me...move myself...with your cock...make myself orgasm? Hmm?"

Qiong was speechless, and could only hold her smooth, sweaty back tightly, feeling the rise and fall of her body and the tight embrace inside. Pleasure quickly accumulated again.

This night seemed to have no end.

They tried countless different positions.

Kafka straddled Sora in the woman-on-top position, her long, wine-red hair swaying like waves with each movement. Her breasts, exposed beneath her open shirt, swayed alluringly, and her thighs, encased in deep purple stockings, were taut with muscles, producing a soft, wet "plop" sound with each sway. She leaned down and kissed Sora's lips, her tongues entwining as she whispered indistinctly, "Darling...shoot inside me...shoot it all inside me..."

In the missionary position, Qiong pinned her down, hoisting her stockinged legs onto his shoulders. This position allowed him to penetrate deeply, each thrust hitting her very core. Kafka's legs were forced wide open, the stockings digging deep into the tender flesh of her thighs, leaving red marks. She gripped the sheets tightly, her nails almost tearing through the fabric, her head thrown back as she let out a broken scream: "Ah...it's hitting...it's hitting my uterus...it's going to break...ah ha!"

Kaffa was forced to kneel and prone from behind, her buttocks raised high on the edge of the bed. Qiong thrust into her violently from behind, each slam sending her body lurching forward, her breasts rubbing against the rough sheets. He slapped her stocking-clad buttocks hard with one hand, leaving red handprints, while his other hand reached around to the front, roughly kneading and playing with her already swollen clitoris and labia. "Slut…so tight…trying to drain me dry?" Qiong growled, panting. Kaffa buried her face in her arms, her voice muffled yet filled with a sob and pleasure: "Yes…I am a slut…I just want to be fucked to death by my darling…with his big cock…ah! Harder!"

In the side-entry position, the two lay sideways like spoons. Sora entered from behind, one hand encircling her waist, the other covering her swaying breasts, his fingertips teasing her erect nipples. This position was slow and deep, each thrust grinding against her. Kafka turned her head to kiss Sora, their saliva exchanging as she murmured intermittently, "Like this… slowly fuck me… fill every inch of me with your scent…"

Standing, Kyō pressed her against the cold wall, lifted one of her legs, and entered her from the front. Kafka's back was against the wall, her other leg, clad in a high heel, barely supported her, her stockinged instep taut. This position exposed their point of contact, the thick, hard penis thrusting in and out of her wet opening rapidly, producing gurgling sounds and splashing love juices. She wrapped her arms around Kyō's neck, her body sliding up and down with each thrust, her open shirt slipping completely off her shoulders, her breasts rubbing against Kyō's chest. "The wall...it's so cold...but inside...it's so hot...darling...faster...ah!"

On one occasion, Kafka sat in his lap with her back to Sora. Sora entered her from below, his hands slipping under her armpits, kneading and fondling her ravaged breasts, his teeth nibbling at the skin of her nape. Kafka tilted her head back, her Adam's apple bobbing, letting out an almost whimpering moan, her body leaning back against Sora's chest, her hips meeting his thrusts. "Back...back too...darling...your fingers...uh..."

Each climax was intense yet fleeting. Kafka squirted countless times, her clear love juice mixing with Sora's semen, splattering the sheets, carpet, and even the walls in a mess. Sora also lost count of how many times he ejaculated; each time he felt as if he were being drained dry, but he would quickly regain his erection under her deliberate teasing and the sucking of her tight vagina.

Her body was covered in marks: her breasts and neck were covered in hickeys and teeth marks, her waist and buttocks were covered in purplish-blue finger marks and handprints, her inner thighs were rubbed raw, and her stockings were torn and barely hanging on her legs, stained with various bodily fluids in patches of dark and light. Her lips were swollen, with dried semen and saliva remaining at the corners of her mouth, and tear tracks still clung to the corners of her eyes. Her pale purple eyes were bloodshot and filled with the hazy afterglow of debauchery.

But she never stopped "playing" Kaffa. With that hoarse, languid voice, she spoke words that were sometimes provocative, sometimes pleading, sometimes obscene, stimulating Sora's nerves and guiding his desires. She perfectly imitated Kaffa's possible reactions: from initial awkward resistance, to gradual succumbing, and finally to a state of complete abandon and insatiable demands.

Qiong gradually lost himself in this long and frenzied sex. His initial anger, humiliation, and worry were shattered by waves of intense pleasure. He no longer considered whether it was a trap, nor did he try to identify the person before him. He simply followed his instincts, venting his pent-up emotions and desires on this beautiful and decadent body, responding to her every seductive word and every alluring movement.

Until the sky outside the window, through the hidden ventilation opening of the safe house, turned a grayish-white.