{Chapter: 018 - Lovemaking With Pop Girl V And Emotions, Guilt, Shame And Anger}
Succumbing to lust, Aiden plunged sharply to the very bottom! He tasted it well!
"Aaaahhhhhh ... ~" A bright cry of the watcher he covered with his palm, and then climbed onto the bed, abruptly pulled the cock out of her hungry pussy.
"~A~?" The girl did not understand what was happening, but Aiden sharply slapped her in the ass!
"Aah ~!" Her passionate moan was interrupted by fingers, and unexpectedly burst into her accessible mouth. Aiden sat down behind, pressed on her waist and directed his quivering cock straight into her delicious hole, through hundreds of threads, like a cobweb growing in the girl's crotch. Breaking the strands of her nectar, he entered abruptly!
"Aahhhh ~!" Sucking on his fingers, she could not hide her depraved moans, and Aiden was already starting to move deeper.
An obscene smile blossomed on the girl's lascivious face again, and then, Aiden finally came in full length and rammed the womb!
"Aahii~" Burying herself in the wet sheets, she barely stifled a scream, but still lost Aiden's fingers. Drooling all she could do was to enjoy her own wet juices on the bed, while he burst in from behind for the whole din! Aiden took her hard, hammered her into bed to drown her bitch moans and dominated her to the fullest!
This final time was the roughest!
"You are mine!" Aiden growled and slapped her even harder! As his body is about to collapse just like the Pop girl who lost all her energy, only the hotness in the womb keeps her conscious.
"Ahhii ~!" Pop girl yelped and then felt the heat in her womb.
Aiden didn't stop, his furious pace only increased and he continued to spank that flushed ass! Using the last of his energy.
"Ah ~! Ooffu ~ Aaahii ~" - From constant fucking and violence on her ass countuned keeping her awake.
"You are mine!" He growled and slapped her again, making his way deeper into the womb: - "Who do you belong to ?! Answer me!"
- Aaahiii ~ - Pop girl's eyes rolled back, Aiden grabbed her hair sharply and the watcher's eyes immediately met her his face.
The obscene grin appeared on its own ...
"I ... I ... I am yours! ~ Hiiiii ~ - Pop girl's brain began to melt! She had never felt so good! Her bosom was wildly sucked on to the dick below, but lecherous thoughts!
Pop girl almost lost her mind! Pleasure pierced her entire body, for the first time in her life she felt so alive, but she could not even think, euphoria just blew her mind!
The Pop girl's outstretched lips shone with the reflection of her depraved saliva, and Aiden only grinned fiercely, continuing to non-stop releasing the seed into his pliable bitch. Finally he reached the final and got what he wanted! At the same moment, the world around Aiden suddenly began to grow dim, but the pleasure only grew, as he soon fell on her and lost himself in the pleasure and sleep.
---
"Where am I, what happened to me?"
Aiden, who woke up suddenly, was startled as he looked at Pop girl who was unconscious lying around him naked. The only thing on her body was the socks around their legs, and at the same time her pussy was dripping with a white substance at his side.
He suddenly recalled it—the moment he absorbed the power of the Bleeder. Something had changed inside him. Something primal, something dark. It had ignited the instant he saw her, drawing him in not just to her presence, but to her very body. A hunger stirred—one that wasn't entirely his own.
Desire blurred reason. Before he could fully comprehend what he was doing… it had already happened.
When his mind finally cleared, when clarity returned like a blade to the chest, he saw her—helpless, breathless—and the crushing weight of what he'd done nearly brought him to his knees. Shame twisted in his gut. He hadn't meant for it to be this way. He hadn't wanted to lose control.
In that single, heart-pounding moment, he made a choice—not to run from it, but to try, however feebly, to turn the ruin he had caused into something gentle… something pleasurable… something meaningful. For her. Especially for her.
"What the hell... is happening to me?" Aiden muttered, his voice trembling like a broken chord. Each breath he took came ragged, shallow—his chest rising and falling in unsteady spasms, as though his very body rejected the guilt swelling within it.
His hands hovered above her unconscious form, fingers twitching, unsure whether to reach out in remorse or recoil in shame. His knees threatened to buckle. "What have I done..." The words slipped out, hollow and fragile, like a dying man's prayer.
The room was still—too still.
"I'm sorry..." His voice cracked, barely louder than a breath. "I didn't mean for it to go this far. I crossed a line I can never take back."
His head bowed. Aiden's body trembled—not from fear, but the crushing weight of what he'd become. The guilt coiled inside him like a serpent, tightening with every second, every heartbeat. "You didn't deserve this," he murmured again, this time toward her, then to the Pop Girl, then perhaps to himself.
He hadn't meant to lose control. Or had he? The truth burned beneath the surface—he'd wanted to vent, to lash out, to feel something other than helplessness. Pop Girl had simply been there, and she had become the outlet for all his festering fury.
But now… that storm had passed, leaving only bitter clarity in its wake.
"I'll carry this shame," he whispered, the confession etching itself into his soul like a brand.
Then, like a phantom whisper, a thought crept into his mind—uninvited and yet impossible to ignore.
"Was this all caused by the Evil Heart?"
It was a part of the path he had chosen—the path of corruption, of power gained through darkness. But how much of this was truly the Heart's doing, and how much was his own? Had he become something he couldn't recognize anymore?
"Oh, how did I sleep for so long?"
Aiden looked toward the dim, colorless sky beyond the cracked window. Night had fallen without his notice. The clock's cruel ticking marked not just the hour—but the countdown of his remaining time in this world. By his estimate, less than an hour remained.
The abilities of Mover (telekinesis) and Pusher (telepathy), particularly the power of the mind, were what he desired. It would be unfortunate if he were to overlook them.
He needed those powers. More than anything, he desired telekinesis, the Mover's gift. It was the key to tipping the balance, to surviving whatever came next. He couldn't afford to waste a single second.
"I have to find the male protagonist. Even if I don't get the Boss's ability, I'll take the telekinesis. I need it."
With that resolve, he called upon his Watcher ability, his most trusted means of information gathering. But… nothing. Silence. Void. His vision remained stubbornly blank. He tried again, pushing harder.
Failure.
He clenched his jaw, suppressing panic as he tested more of his abilities—Bleeder, Shadow, Devour—all failed.
Gone.
Only his fire control and Extremis remained, burning faintly inside him like dying embers.
Something was terribly wrong.
"What the hell is going on with my body?"
This wasn't just a malfunction. This was a systemic collapse. The Devour ability—his trump card—had failed to activate for the first time since he claimed it.
And worse still, the plan was unraveling.
The plot had derailed. Pop Girl hadn't even been devoured, and now lay unconscious—helpless and untouched, her power still out of reach. The guilt twisted deeper, sharpened by the red stain that marked the floor like a scar. Rage, shame, confusion—he was drowning in all of it.
"Dammit..." he cursed under his breath, eyes darkening.
The clock was still ticking. The time limit for this mission—this entire plane—was drawing to an end. He had screwed up. There was no going back. The only solace was knowing he could return… eventually.
"Forget it," Aiden muttered bitterly. "I can still come back in thirty days. I'll keep this plane in the slot and return with better preparation."
Still, it didn't sit right.
Not the failure.
Not the guilt.
Not the blood.
And especially, not the part of him that wondered… if the Evil Heart had merely amplified what was already inside him.
Aiden sat in silence, the flickering light casting long shadows over the table where his hand trembled above the parchment. The ink was still wet as he finished the final line of a letter that bled with guilt, sorrow, and raw, unfiltered honesty. The words weren't carefully sculpted—they were torn straight from the deepest corner of his fractured heart.
He didn't veil the truth with justifications. There were no empty excuses, no shifting of blame. He bore it all.
The shame. The weight. The failure.
Especially that first moment—the moment where he lost control and let the evil inside guide his hand. His greatest mistake.
And in the letter, he admitted it.
He acknowledged, with searing clarity, that it had been wrong. Irrevocably wrong. That no matter how twisted his emotions had become, no matter how much the world around them had decayed into madness, what he had done was unacceptable. He wrote that the fault was his alone, and that he would accept whatever judgment she deemed just—even if she could never look at him again, even if she hated him forever.
But as the ink flowed, so did a truth he could no longer keep buried.
Something had changed. After that cursed beginning—something irreversible shifted within him. The madness didn't consume him entirely. In the middle of the chaos, a fleeting moment of clarity had emerged. It was no longer about rage or the path he'd taken or the evil heart whispering in his veins. At that moment… it had become real.
Not just flesh—but something deeper. Intimate. Unforgettable.
And so he confessed it.
He told her that even though it began in the worst way imaginable… he couldn't lie. Being with her had left a mark on him. One that no amount of guilt or shame could erase. It wasn't just carnal. It was spiritual. Something about her had calmed the storm inside him, had reached into the parts of himself.
He told her that he hated how it happened—but in the depths of his being, he couldn't bring himself to completely regret what they shared.
Because it mattered. To him.
And had the stars aligned differently—had the world not drowned in chaos, had he not been twisted by the dark powers he embraced—it could have been beautiful. Perhaps even something lasting.
His pen scratched out the final lines slowly, shakily.
"I just wish," he wrote, "that it hadn't happened like this. If things were different… if we weren't broken, lost in war, in sin, in fury… it could've been something pure. Because with you… it already felt like it. Even for a moment. With your affection and your choice… it could've been one of the most beautiful, meaningful experiences of your life. And I ruined it. I stole that from you. For that, I will never forgive myself."
He signed it with the only thing he still had to give:
With love—
Aiden.
And as the ink dried and the silence returned, Aiden just sat there—head bowed, eyes heavy, heart hollow. The fire inside him dimmed. There were no more words. Just the lingering ache of what could have been… and what could never be.