Witch Monastery Chapter 49: My Ruth (Part 2)

Instantly, Ruth’s beautiful eyes widened, her sha unbearable: "Huh?! Th-this, I..."

Her face flushed so deeply it seed blood might drip from it, looking utterly adorable.

After all, she was a terrifying witch born from a nation’s shared suffering, a generation’s collective agony, confusion, and suspicion toward royalty and the very concept of "nobility."

Naturally, she couldn’t escape absorbing so of that era’s fantasies about the "royal class"—such as an overwhelming sense of disgrace, an extre susceptibility to "sha spurring action," and the like.

And Charles’ current demand, to her, was nothing short of humiliating, utterly unacceptable!

Watching her flustered expression, Charles’ lips curled slightly. Beside her, Hattie’s eyes glead, gazing at her with keen interest before adding, "Well, Ruth? On the very first day, as one bearing sin, you’d defy your Master’s command?"

Ruth imdiately stamred, "I... of course not..."

"Then what are you waiting for?" Hattie pressed her advantage, the smile at the corners of her mouth growing more pronounced. "Begin already, dear Ruth. I can hardly wait!"

When it ca to verbal sparring, few in the entire monastery could rival Hattie—Ruth stood no chance. Wronged to the point of tears, she stole a glance at Charles, only to find him smiling, with no intention of retracting his order.

Left with no choice, trembling, she slowly rose from the bed, stepped to the foot of it, and faced Charles and Hattie—though her head hung so low it nearly touched her chest. Her hands clutched the hem of her nun’s habit, then began lifting it, inch by inch—

First revealed before them were a pair of petite, porcelain feet, so exquisite they could drive any foot enthusiast to madness. Each of Ruth’s toes resembled a glistening pearl, plump and translucent, while her nails shimred in a deep purple-red, dotted with starlight.

Higher up, erging gradually from beneath the heavy black nun’s habit, were her flawless calves, the delicate curve of her knees, the smooth, tender flesh of her thighs, and beyond—

It was a modest white cotton undergarnt—after all, unlike Hattie, Ruth would never dare wear nothing beneath her nun’s habit.

Charles spoke then: "Hattie, help her hold up the nun’s habit."

"Gladly!" Hattie responded eagerly. She slipped under the covers and erged monts later, now properly clad in her own heavy nun’s habit, her expression solemn, her steps asured. Radiating an air of sanctity, she moved behind Ruth, raised both hands, and lifted the hem of the habit.

Freed of the burden, Ruth bit her lower lip, her fingertips gripping the sides of her undergarnt before slowly pulling it down.

And so, everything was laid bare before them.

She lifted one leg, peeling away one side of her panties, then repeated the motion with the other. The movent’s natural amplitude allowed Charles an unobstructed view of her exquisite form.

Ruth bit her lower lip, trembling as her left hand ventured downward. The pad of her middle finger tentatively covered her most sensitive flesh, beginning slow, unskilled circles. "Nngh..."

A soft moan escaped her lips at first contact - this being her maiden exploration of her own body.

Hattie considerately lifted the nun’s habit higher, revealing more ivory skin: the delicate curve of her waist, the tantalizing dip of her navel...

Ruth’s right hand rose shakily to cup her breast, fingers kneading the tender flesh. "Ahh..."

Since becoming human, these sensitive areas had remained untouched - even by herself. Now this first stimulation, perford before Charles’ watchful gaze, sent electric shocks of pleasure through her body. Her muscles tensed violently, thighs pressing together.

Yet she knew this wasn’t enough. After several circling motions, her slender middle finger descended toward her moistening entrance. "Nn—ah!"

A lodic cry burst from her throat before being forcibly suppressed, her face flushing crimson with mingled arousal and embarrassnt.

"No need to restrain yourself, Ruth," Charles murmured. "Let hear you."

As if his words broke so invisible seal, Ruth’s breathing grew heavier with each movent of her hands. "Mmm... Master..."

Finding her rhythm, her motions gained confidence despite her burning sha. "Master... like this... I..."

Her back arched involuntarily, waist lifting from the bed until Hattie’s supporting hands prevented her from tumbling backward. Then her legs gave out entirely, knees buckling as she collapsed onto the mattress. "Master... I can’t... it’s too much..."

Now supine, she gazed up at Charles with desperate eyes. Internal fire consud her - every nerve ending alight, muscles twitching with unbearable need. Her inexperienced fingers could never satisfy this overwhelming emptiness!

Charles needed no further invitation. Replacing her trembling hand with his own skilled fingers, he stroked her dripping folds.

Ruth’s abdon contracted violently. "Aah! Master, I’m—!"

Her first climax crashed over her with shocking intensity, vaginal walls pulsating around his fingers as warm nectar gushed forth. Charles brought his glistening digits to her lips, watching her pink tongue clean them obediently while her clitoris remained swollen with unt desire.

"Woo..."

Ruth’s tongue swirled unconsciously around his fingertip, the salty taste of her own arousal reigniting the fire within. The digital stimulation provided only temporary relief, utterly inadequate for quelling the inferno she’d unwittingly kindled: "Master, I need..."

Seeing genuine tears welling in her eyes, Charles relented. Withdrawing his slick fingers, he pressed his erection against her thigh before lowering his body to capture her lips in a searing kiss. At precisely the right mont, he sheathed himself fully within her trembling heat.

"Master, ugh—!"