Chapter 35: I Just Wanted to Cuddle!

The Punishment Begins

Rita’s clothes dwindled piece by piece, but before she reached the final, most crucial parts, Cecilia stopped her.

Observing Rita’s body, a fleeting doubt crossed Cecilia’s mind.

She’d just been to a brothel, yet bore no suspicious marks—oddly inconsistent.

Still, the act of going there justified punishment.

“Kneel.”

Cecilia commanded.

Rita let out an “Oh,” clumsily complying.

Cecilia knew her intent, but Rita was clueless, her heart racing as she knelt, the feeling intensifying.

She sensed Cecilia behind her, picking something up from the table.

A cold, angular object pressed against Rita’s spine, its blunt edge tracing her backbone, sinking slowly, deliberately.

The grazed skin retained an odd sensation, like a feather stirring her heart, making Rita increasingly unsettled.

Finally, the object rested at her tailbone. Though Rita hid her heart-shaped tail, the touch of cold metal there tensed her body involuntarily.

A dull thud followed, and a blunt pain struck Rita’s sole.

It wasn’t too painful—far lighter than Momoka’s spear shaft.

Kneeling in such a position, the shame outweighed the physical pain.

“I will strike your soles.” Cecilia’s voice came from behind, reciting a creed. “When you stand on the earth, you’ll recall the shame of breaking your oath, guiding your path.”

Another strike, then another, the object kissing Rita’s soles eight times.

A Shift in Discipline

Cecilia circled to Rita’s front.

Rita saw it—a short, jeweled cane, its ornate precious metal engravings marking its value.

That was it?

“Extend your hand.” Cecilia ordered again.

Beating my soles and now my hands?

Am I a naughty preschooler?!

As an adult, stripped so bare yet treated like a child, the shame deepened.

“Hand.”

Cecilia repeated, and Rita obediently stretched out her palm.

The cane struck her hand, the pain mild, but the humiliation of being disciplined with a casual object was unprecedented.

Cecilia murmured, raising the cane repeatedly. “I will strike your palm. When you wield a sword, you’ll recall the shame of your broken oath, sharpening your edge.”

Finally, the gem-encrusted cane lifted Rita’s chin, forcing her to meet Cecilia’s gleaming eyes under the candlelight.

This time, no post-punishment warning came, only a prelude.

“I will strike your cheek.” Cecilia’s warm breath from her pale pink lips cooled Rita’s burning face.

But she stopped mid-sentence, her words vanishing.

Forgot her lines?

Rita wondered.

Only Cecilia knew the daze that hit when Rita looked up.

An Unexpected Stir

Without bending, Cecilia could cradle Rita’s face. Her slender, soft fingers on Rita’s flushed cheeks felt cool.

Exhale.

Cecilia took a deep breath.

Continue.

Her hand slowly left Rita’s face.

Slap.

Instead of the cane, Cecilia’s small palm landed—not a strike, but a gentle tap.

In Rita’s mind, such a gesture meant one of two things: provocation or flirtation.

“Cecilia…” Rita’s hazy eyes rippled with an odd emotion, sparking in Cecilia a fleeting urge to lean closer.

Swish.

Cecilia swiftly withdrew the cane, standing upright, turning away from Rita, her heart pounding with an unfamiliar intensity.

No, no!

Her nails dug into her palm, the slight pain anchoring her against acting on this “fitting” moment’s temptation.

Breathe in, out, in, out—no matter how she tried, her racing heart wouldn’t slow.

“Rita, dress yourself. Your punishment is complete. Remember today’s pain and shame, and don’t repeat your mistakes.”

Rita, still tilting her head up, seemed frozen by the tap, a puppet obeying orders without thought.

The atmosphere had been too perfect.

Cecilia’s voice snapped her awake.

That’s… it?

It felt like some cringeworthy yet sacred ritual.

Why strip, though? Such ceremonies called for nudity, plain robes, or knightly armor—not just underwear. Odd, right?

Rita didn’t know and didn’t dare ask.

A Harsh Decree

“There’s more.”

Cecilia spoke again.

“As a future Holy Knight, you must practice restraint and purity from today onward.”

What!

Normal people could abstain, but her? A succubus!

Demanding purity was like saying, “Go die.”

Either starve through abstinence or hunt and risk execution, framed by that other succubus, right?

“Guh…” Rita swallowed hard.

“Can’t you do it?” Cecilia turned, frowning at Rita still kneeling in place.

“Cecilia… could you… give me some leeway? Once a week?” Rita raised a trembling hand.

Two failed hunts, but she couldn’t just starve, could she?

“No. The Holy Knight’s code doesn’t forbid self-relief.” Cecilia’s cheeks burned saying this, but for her reputation’s sake, clarity was necessary.

Self-relief? Like surviving on air! It sounded reasonable but solved nothing!

“Then… ten days… half a month…”

Rita bargained, inappropriate as it was, but this was life-or-death—better than getting caught next time.

Poor Rita never considered being sneakier.

Each plea met Cecilia’s firm, “No.”

Even Cecilia’s patience wore thin. Exasperated, she tapped Rita’s head with the cane.

“Rita, what do you want?”

“I-I…” Rita was near tears. “I just wanted to cuddle!”