“How could the Sultan’s tongue… have such blasphemous adornments attached?”

Piercing one’s tongue with beads was an act only done by lowlifes selling their bodies in pleasure districts. Her son was the Sultan, not a prostitute.

“I had it done to please your p**sy, mother.”

Hamir humbly curled his vulgar tongue and swallowed before answering.

“Doesn’t your pu*sy have similar beads attached? Let me see. Around here, perhaps?”

Seizing Anya’s moment of flustered rigidity, Hamir grabbed her thighs and spread them. His middle finger pressed down precisely on her c*itoris, hidden beneath her undergarments.

“Ah? H-haagh…!”

Anya’s body shuddered violently.

“So round and cute. It gets harder the more I touch it. It seems still hidden inside its shell—how much longer must I touch it to make it pop out? Hmm?”

“Ugh… h-heuk, ah, ah-eu…!”

“They say rubbing a bead against this pearl turns even the most chaste woman into a temptress arching her back—”

Hamir stuck out his tongue again. The fleshy red muscle l**ked slowly up Anya’s slender nape.

The cold metal embedded in the center of his scorching heat. At that sharp stimulus, Anya’s head tilted back.

“I am glad I pierced my tongue.”

“I’ll insert the egg now. Don’t be startled.”

Hamir pressed the top of the egg against her v*ginal opening. With his other hand, he patted her lower abdomen and slowly pushed the egg inside.

“Good, good.”

“Ugh, h-heu… uuung…!”

Anya pushed against the sheets with her toes. Whimpering like a wounded dog, she finally succeeded in fully enveloping the small egg inside her.

Her v*ginal entrance, having swallowed even the thickest base, clenched shut instantly. A string of pearls sewn together now dangled outside her tightly closed hole.

Just like a limp dog’s tail. Hamir savored the le*d sight as he thought this.

“Do you like your son’s gift?”

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