The hospital was dead.
Even in daylight, it looked like it had died screaming.
Tall and skeletal, it towered at the edge of the city's forgotten district, wrapped in broken windows and rusted iron railings. Time hadn't just passed through here—it had rotted everything.
Riku stood at the front gates, the key clenched in his palm. His fingers were trembling again. Not from fear.
From something deeper.
The scent of jasmine was gone now.
Replaced by something colder.
Sterile. Metallic.
Like wet bandages, alcohol, and the faint trace of blood beneath clean sheets.
Room 108.
He could feel it pulling him.
Each step inside the hospital echoed like a heartbeat down empty halls.
The wallpaper peeled like old skin.
Wheelchairs sat abandoned, facing corners, as if they had tried to escape but were frozen mid-scream.
And beneath it all…
A sound.
"nnnghh… mmnh…"
Low. Wet. Feminine.
Riku's cock stirred.
It was already starting.
He passed by the operating wing, down cracked tiles slick with old mildew. The basement stairwell waited for him—dark, wet, and too narrow.
Every step downward felt like slipping into a mouth.
The air changed.
Thicker.
Hotter.
Pulsing.
At the bottom, a flickering red emergency light blinked in slow, seductive rhythm.
Thump.
Thump.
Thump.
A heartbeat.
And there it was.
Room 108.
The door was sealed with iron bars, rusted and damp. But the moment Riku approached, the key pulsed warm in his palm.
He slid it into the lock.
A click echoed like a gasp.
And the door slowly creaked open.
What lay beyond… stole his breath.
The room was covered in torn white curtains, soft and fluttering from some unseen breeze. A hospital bed sat in the center, surrounded by candles that burned despite the lack of air.
And on the bed—
She lay waiting.
The Virgin in White.
Strapped to the mattress by silken restraints. Her wrists and ankles gently bound, her long black hair fanned over the pillow like a dark halo. She wore a pure white patient gown—thin, clinging to her curves, soaked with sweat.
Her legs were slightly parted.
The sheets beneath her were wet.
Not with blood.
With arousal.
She looked up slowly, her eyes watery and wide.
"Are you… the one?" she whispered.
Riku stepped inside, unable to speak.
Her voice quivered. "I… I asked them to stop… but they said I was sick. Dirty. That no one would touch me unless they broke me."
Her tears fell silently down her cheeks.
"They called it therapy…"
She pulled weakly at the silk restraints, her thighs trembling.
"But I'm still a virgin. They never… finished."
Her eyes met his.
"Please… will you finish it?"
The door behind him slammed shut.
Candles flared.
And Riku realized…
This wasn't just a rescue.
This was confession.
And her body was the altar.
The silence of Room 108 was different.
It wasn't empty.
It was thick.
Heavy.
Like the air itself was watching, holding its breath—waiting to see if he'd do it.
Riku took a slow step forward, the candles flickering around the bed, casting gold and red shadows across the room. The girl—she couldn't have been much older than him. Maybe the same age. But something about her… felt timeless.
Like she'd been trapped here far too long.
Her name tag was still pinned to the collar of her soaked gown, half-torn.
"Airi."
She flinched slightly as he reached for it, the silk straps around her wrists tightening as she instinctively tried to pull away—but then stopped herself.
She looked away, cheeks burning.
"You don't have to pretend to be gentle," she whispered.
"That's not how they trained me to take it…"
Riku froze.
"I'm not like them," he said softly.
Her lips trembled.
"…Then why are you here?"
The candlelight danced over her pale skin. The thin white gown clung to her body—too thin. He could see the shape of her breasts underneath. Round, full, quivering with every frightened breath. Her nipples had stiffened beneath the fabric, pushing against the soaked material like little peaks of need.
"Because someone made you wait too long," he murmured.
She blinked up at him. "…Wait?"
He climbed onto the bed slowly, crawling over her restrained body. She gasped, but didn't resist. Her breath hitched as his face hovered just inches above hers. Their lips didn't touch—but their heat did.
"You asked me to finish it," Riku said, voice low, trembling. "But not the way they would've. I'm not here to break you. I'm here to free you."
And then—he kissed her.
Not rough.
Not forced.
Just lips brushing lips.
A soft, slow kiss—like he was kissing a ghost back to life.
Her body melted. The way she arched, whined—it wasn't fear anymore. It was relief.
A sound escaped her throat, halfway between a sob and a moan. Her legs shifted, knees spreading slightly under the thin white sheet.
And her gown…
Was soaking through.
He pressed a hand to her side, gently tracing the curves of her waist. The fabric was already clinging to her skin. With one slow pull, he slid it up… revealing inches of smooth thigh. Then more.
Her panties were translucent white, already drenched, sticking to her soaked folds. The outline of her slit was clear—plump, warm, glistening. Her scent hit him like a wave: clean, wet, but with that faint metallic tinge of the room itself. Sterile mixed with desperate heat.
Riku slid his fingers over the fabric—slowly.
Airi gasped. Her back arched so suddenly the bed creaked.
"I… I'm sensitive…" she whimpered.
"You've been waiting too long," Riku whispered.
And then, without asking—because her eyes were begging—he slid her panties aside.
She was bare.
Pink. Swollen. Quivering.
And the wetness…
It dripped down her thighs.
He dipped his head, inhaling her scent, warm breath teasing her slick folds.
"No one's ever touched me there…" she gasped.
Riku's tongue slid out—grazing her slit. Gently. Testing.
She screamed.
The silk restraints trembled as her hands jerked against them. Her hips lifted instinctively, trying to pull him in.
But he wasn't done teasing.
His tongue danced. Soft flicks at first—slow, circling her clit. Then deeper, tasting her juices. Airi writhed under him, crying out softly, twitching like she was being electrocuted with pleasure.
Her voice turned needy.
"Please… don't stop… it's—burning…"
Riku lifted his head just enough to meet her eyes.
"You're burning with life," he said. "That's what they couldn't take from you."
She sobbed.
And then he slid up her body, pressing the tip of his hard cock against her soaked, begging entrance.
Her legs opened wider on instinct.
Her eyes locked on his.
"…Do it," she whispered.
And he pushed in.
Airi's gasp was like a song caught between agony and ecstasy.
The moment Riku's cock slid into her—slow, deliberate, deep—her body shuddered like it had been waiting for this moment for years. The resistance was there at first… tight, trembling, virgin walls clenching as if unsure whether to allow it.
But she let him in.
With tears in her eyes.
And wetness already leaking from her core.
Riku didn't slam into her. He pressed forward—inch by inch—feeling every twitch of her walls, every subtle pull of her hips, the way her body instinctively welcomed him even if her mind trembled.
"Ah… it's so much…" Airi whimpered, her fingers curling uselessly against the silk restraints.
"You're doing perfect," he whispered into her ear, breath hot. "You're not dirty. You're beautiful."
A soft sob escaped her lips—and then turned into a moan as his hips rolled.
Their bodies met in rhythm.
Soft at first—careful, like learning the shape of a forgotten song.
But the heat rose quickly. The scent of her arousal filled the room—wet, womanly, pure lust mixed with tears and something divine. The kind of smell that made Riku's thoughts melt into instinct.
He thrust deeper. Her legs instinctively wrapped around his waist.
"Ahh—Riku… you're… inside all the way…"
The soaked sheets beneath her were dripping. Each thrust made the bed creak, her juices splashing with soft, filthy sounds that echoed through the candlelit chamber.
The room wasn't cold anymore.
It was a furnace.
And Airi was burning with life.
Her white gown had fallen off one shoulder, exposing one soft, trembling breast. Riku leaned down, mouth closing around her hardened nipple, sucking with slow, worshipful hunger. Airi writhed, her thighs clamping around him, hips jerking as if trying to take him deeper.
Her voice grew louder.
"I… I feel it! Something's coming—inside me—Riku—!!"
And then it hit her.
Her back arched, eyes wide, mouth open in a silent scream as her orgasm tore through her. Her pussy clamped down like a vice, squeezing his cock as if begging him to stay inside forever.
Riku couldn't hold back.
With a low groan, he thrust deep—bottoming out inside her—and came.
His cum exploded into her, hot and thick, flooding her untouched womb. Her body trembled again as she felt the heat fill her. Airi's lips parted in a soft, blissed-out moan.
It wasn't violent.
It was sacred.
Her virginity wasn't stolen.
It was set free.
The restraints uncoiled from her wrists—on their own. As if the room had judged her finally released.
Airi lay there, breathless, tears streaking her cheeks—but this time, she was smiling.
"Thank you…" she whispered. "I… I can leave now…"
Her fingers touched his cheek one last time.
And then her body began to shimmer—like light through water.
The sheets slowly dried.
The candles dimmed.
And Riku was alone again.
But in the silence, he heard her voice.
"There's more waiting… deeper inside the night…"