Am I Allowed to Kill the Male Lead? - Chapter 33

Chapter 33

Translator: Yonnee

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The demon king’s rough hand gently landed on my palm.

It was full of small scars and rough skin. True to the devil of fire, it was much hotter than my hand. The pronounced knuckles indeed resembled those of a male lead in an erotic story, too. It feels good when he kneads my body with this hand, except when we’re filming the ‘main part’, he hardly touches me.

I stroked his hand, lost in thought for a moment. The male lead’s hand was essentially my mast*rbation tool, especially the ridges on these fingers. When two fingers enter me and rub against my inner walls, the sensation…

“Ke-hum.”

Bel cleared his throat.

“It’s a bit embarrassing, but tell me what you plan to do.”

Already embarrassed. Yes, that’s the problem.

“Bel. Does taking off your gloves embarrass you?”

“Of course. It’s not exactly a part men typically expose.”

Bel answered immediately. He’s right, but wouldn’t it be more embarrassing to decorate such an erotic part with half-gloves?

Anyway, I gave the order.

“Do a striptease here.”

For Bel, this must be like the sky falling.

He’s the male lead in an erotic story who finds erotic meaning in removing a glove. And now he’s being asked to strip. Here, of all places.

According to his always-clad descriptions in Devil’s Vivace, he would probably be overwhelmed by shame. He wouldn’t be able to breathe. Just imagining it probably makes his lungs constrict and his head spin. It’s obvious.

Bel protested, unable to accept it.

“That’s absurd. Why should I strip? I understood the purpose of the tentacle training, but this is different. You remember Chapter 34, right? You did a striptease, and I drank wine and watched.”

“That’s right.”

There was such a scene. That was nice, actually.

Bel continued.

“Even then… I won’t say it was easy to look directly at your nudity. But it wasn’t because of guilt—it was because of my own shame, and it wasn’t a big problem. In fact, Chapter 34 ended without any issue. I knew you had a bit of a primitive or barbaric side, finding clothing cumbersome.”

Is that an insult?

“Besides, there are scenes where I rip your clothes off frequently, and there was never a problem. I know you enjoy being in your natural state. I respect that and want that for you. So, there’s no point in forcibly removing my clothes to teach me how freeing and pleasant it is to be nude.”

Seeing Bel talk so lengthily reminds me of the old days. When I first handed him the whip, Bel also gave a long speech on how absurd the script was.

I should have just killed him back then… No, it’s not too late.

But I refrained from murder.

“First off, Bel. There’s something you’re misunderstanding.”

“Tell me. I’ll listen.”

Bel slumped down on the sofa, arms crossed. It wasn’t exactly an attentive posture, but his irritation was so demon-king-like that I left him be.

“There won’t be another striptease scene. It’s already been done once, so it’d be cliché to do it again. That’s not why I asked you to strip.”

“Then why…”

“Your embarrassment in itself is a serious problem.”

Bel fell into thought for a moment, seemingly forgetting that one of his hands was gloveless.

“…I don’t see. What’s the issue with me disliking being exposed? The author hasn’t stripped any of my clothing in all these 63 chapters. You should know, too. The most exposure I’ve had is taking off a shirt.”

“No, I mean, you’ve had to expose your thing, right?”

“……”

Bel seemed at a loss for words.

He suddenly got up and checked outside the window. The world was still crumbling. The storm was swirling, engulfing fragments of the shattered world, including severed trees, ruins of buildings, ordinary things like extras, but also dangerous things like shards of letters. Bel’s tail hung low, slowly swaying side to side.

I silently waited for Bel’s next move. Finally, he spoke.

“Should we just turn off the lights and go to bed side by side in the next chapter?”

“Stop talking nonsense and strip.”

I grabbed Bel’s tail and yanked it, then caught his collar. Bel, caught off guard, stumbled and grabbed my wrist. He didn’t grip it hard, though, just flailed endlessly, retreating.

“Y-You… Eunha… Give me some time to prepare mentally.”

“Talk of time, how quaint.”

“I don’t think a striptease means being stripped like I’m being violated!”

“That’s because you keep resisting. Where in the world is there a dom who feels so shy about being naked?”

While saying this, I fumbled with his clothes to rip off the buttons. Inevitably, my hands also touched his firm chest. It was somewhat fun to randomly grope the body of the male lead, which I usually never touched. However, it wasn’t fun to see Bel, uncharacteristically for a male lead, panic and not know what to do.

“Your c*ck is splendid, so brandish it proudly like a weapon.”

“It’s not a weapon. It’s a precious and sensitive part.”

“Oh? A black-haired sadistic male lead is saying that?”

“And you, supposedly a pure and tearful female lead, why are you trying to violate the male lead?”

“Because I don’t cause broadcasting accidents!”

The male lead was resisting as if he’d rather die than strip. Unacceptable behavior.

If our novel were a light erotic story about humiliating the male lead, maybe it’s fine.

But in a depraved R-rated story where the female lead is dominated, what on earth is this?