For two full days, Ren did not leave the room.
The once-cozy bedroom had become his self-imposed prison. The curtains remained drawn, allowing only thin slivers of violet light to creep in. The air grew stale, heavy with the scent of sweat, desperation, and unspoken shame.
He lay curled on the bed most of the time, clutching the sheets like a lifeline. The curse was merciless.
Waves of burning lust crashed through his body without warning. His cock would harden painfully, throbbing for hours with no release. The crimson mark on his face and arm felt like molten chains, pulsing in sync with his racing heart. Sharp, stabbing pain radiated from his chest, as if something inside him was trying to claw its way out.
He screamed into the pillow — raw, broken sounds that no one else could hear. His body trembled violently as he fought the overwhelming urge to open the door, find Elizabeth, and bury himself inside her until the hunger stopped. The thoughts were vile, constant, and degrading.
Fuck her. Breed her. Fill that witch until she overflows.
Just once. Just push it in. She wants it. She needs it.
Ren bit his lip until it bled, fists clenched so tightly his nails drew blood from his palms. He refused to give in. He would not become the monster the curse wanted him to be. Not again. Not after what happened with Erico, Aiko, and Mizuki.
He would rather suffer alone than hurt someone else.
Outside the door, Elizabeth tried everything.
On the first day, she knocked gently and called his name with soft concern. On the second day, her voice grew more urgent. She left trays of warm food — fragrant stews, fresh bread, herbal teas — right outside his door. But Ren never opened it. He didn't even respond. The food eventually went cold and untouched.
Elizabeth sat on the floor in the hallway for hours, back against the door, listening to his muffled screams and heavy breathing. Her crimson eyes were filled with guilt so deep it felt like a knife twisting in her chest.
This boy… he is just a victim.
She had dragged him into this world with that cursed kiss. She had infected him. And now he was locking himself away, enduring unimaginable torment just to protect her. A boy who had no magic, no power, no experience in this cruel realm — choosing to suffer in silence rather than risk harming the only person near him.
Tears slipped down Elizabeth's cheeks as she hugged her knees to her chest.
"I'm sorry…" she whispered to the closed door, voice cracking. "I'm so sorry, Ren. You shouldn't have to bear this alone."
The thunderstorm had long passed, but inside the cabin, a different kind of storm raged — one of guilt, self-sacrifice, and quiet despair.
Ren lay on the bed, drenched in sweat, body shaking as another wave of unbearable lust tore through him. He curled tighter into a ball, biting back another scream.
Just endure it…
Just a little longer…
Don't hurt her.
In the hallway, Elizabeth pressed her forehead against the wooden door, eyes closed, sharing his silent pain from the other side.
Two broken souls, separated only by a door, both carrying burdens far heavier than they should have to bear.
On the third morning, the door to the bedroom finally creaked open.
Ren stepped out slowly, like a ghost emerging from a long nightmare. His face was pale and gaunt, dark circles heavy under his eyes. The black wizard cloak hung loosely on his frame. Two days of fighting the curse had taken a brutal toll — his body was trembling with exhaustion, his legs barely able to support him. The crimson mark on his face and arm still pulsed faintly, but the worst of the hunger had finally subsided.
He took two unsteady steps into the main room.
Then his knees buckled.
The world tilted violently as his body gave out. He was about to collapse face-first onto the hard wooden floor when strong, warm arms caught him.
Elizabeth moved with surprising speed. She wrapped her arms around him, pulling his exhausted body against hers. Ren's face fell directly into the soft, deep valley of her massive breasts.
The moment his cheek pressed against her warm, pillowy cleavage, a broken sigh escaped his lips.
Elizabeth's breasts were incredibly soft and heavy — two full, warm pillows of smooth, pale flesh that yielded gently under the weight of his head. The deep neckline of her black dress had shifted during the sudden movement, allowing even more of her generous cleavage to spill out. Her skin was warm, almost feverishly so, carrying the faint scent of night-blooming herbs and her own natural feminine aroma.
Ren instinctively nuzzled deeper, his face sinking between the soft, heavy mounds. The warmth was overwhelming — like sinking into the safest, most comforting place in existence. Her heartbeat was steady and strong beneath his ear, a soothing rhythm that slowly eased the tension in his battered body.
Elizabeth held him gently but firmly, one hand cradling the back of his head, the other stroking his back in slow, soothing circles. She didn't speak at first. She simply let him rest there, his face buried in her ample chest.
"You did well, Ren…" she whispered softly, her voice full of quiet pride and lingering guilt. "You endured everything alone. I'm so sorry I couldn't help you more."
Ren didn't reply. His eyes were already closing. The exhaustion, the emotional toll, and the overwhelming comfort of Elizabeth's warm, soft breasts finally broke him. His body went limp as sleep claimed him completely, his face still nestled comfortably between her heavy tits.
Elizabeth remained standing, holding his sleeping form against her chest. She gently lowered herself onto a nearby chair, keeping him cradled in her embrace. His cheek pressed deeper into the warm, yielding flesh of her breasts as she adjusted him carefully.
She looked down at his peaceful, exhausted face buried in her cleavage and let out a long, quiet sigh.
"Sleep, little vessel," she murmured tenderly, gently stroking his hair. "You've fought hard enough for today. I'll keep you safe."
The morning light filtered through the windows as Elizabeth held the sleeping boy against her chest, her large, soft breasts acting as both pillow and sanctuary. For the first time since he had arrived in this world, Ren's expression was calm.
He had survived the curse's brutal hunger.
And now, he rested — safe, warm, and protected in the embrace of the witch who had unintentionally cursed him.
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