PSW Chapter 59: A Jealous Yofar
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Yano trembled, gripped by genuine fear.
He’s going to kill me?
He’s going to kill me!
That was the only thought left in her mind. When Yofar finally looked away from her—though it felt like an eternity—he simply walked past her and picked up the cat.
Silent. Without a single word.
The soldiers withdrew alongside their king, and all sounds vanished. Only then did Yano collapse onto the ground, taking a long, gasping breath. She had actually forgotten to breathe!
—
Yofar carried Bastet in his arms. The small black cat shifted in his chest, smacking its lips in irritation from being disturbed, but Yofar only stared ahead coldly. He did nothing.
He didn’t even bother to wake it up.
The elderly court lady, Alina, was both confused and fearful. She couldn’t tell whether the king was angry or not.
“You are all dismissed.”
Yofar’s voice was steady and icy as he waved away the maids and guards from the bedchamber.
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
The guards withdrew to a respectable distance, remaining on watch. The maids, not daring to linger, quickly extinguished most of the lamps before silently backing out and closing the heavy palace doors behind them.
Once the room was emptied, Yofar stood at the bedside, hidden behind layers of sheer curtains, holding the cat in his arms. He looked down at it, his perfectly sculpted pale face devoid of emotion.
One minute.
Two minutes.
Time passed in silence.
The moment the black cat caught the scent of something familiar, it began to purr contentedly in his arms, rubbing against his chest affectionately.
That was when Yofar’s expression finally changed—
Like the suffocating stillness before a storm breaking, the moment of calm shattered, and the downpour of fury arrived.
The handsome face twisted in an instant, peeling away its mask to reveal a demon beneath. He seized the black cat by the neck, lifting it roughly, while his other hand tore off the irritatingly unsightly knitted garment from its body.
Bastet had been exhausted these past few days. It had finally managed to sleep soundly, only to suddenly feel as if its neck was about to be snapped. The abrupt pain was like being torn apart by wild horses, making it jolt awake in terror.
Its wide eyes took in the blurred world before it—
Just in time to see Yofar give a slight jerk of his chin before hurling it onto the soft bed.
“MEOW!”
My spine!
Bastet let out a pitiful shriek, feeling as though its brain had been shaken into mush.
A shadow loomed over it immediately after.
Icy blue eyes, laced with veins of crimson like cracks in shattered glass, stared down at it. Yofar’s expression was terrifying as he pressed a hand around its throat.
“Bastet,” his voice was low, dangerous, “why did you stay overnight in Yano’s chambers? What did you do—answer me!”
Bastet: "…"
It was too stunned to react.
Never before had it seen Yofar like this.
Struggling to breathe, Bastet hastily transformed into its human form, grabbing onto Yofar’s arm in desperation.
“Yofar, what the hell are you doing?! Are you out of your mind?!”
The man above it sneered, his long hair draping like a spider’s web, blocking out the light and casting deep shadows. His ice-blue eyes gleamed with a sinister glint, looking utterly monstrous.
“Did I not warn you to stay away from the Assyrian princess?”
Bastet gritted its teeth.
“All this… just because of that? JUST BECAUSE OF THAT?! I—I know you think I’m beneath you, but at least she doesn’t hate me!”
Hatred suddenly surged in Bastet’s heart.
Everything it wanted, Yofar had never given.
And the only bit of warmth Yofar offered was always yanked away whenever he pleased.
It had nothing.
It had nothing in Egypt.
Something in Bastet snapped. It bared its teeth, its voice filled with unrestrained fury.
“I hate you! I f*ing hate you! Yofar, get the hell away from me!**”
Upon hearing those words, Yofar's gaze on Bastet sharpened like a blade. His grip tightened, his chest rising and falling violently.
"What right do you have to hate me?" His voice was low and seething. "**Bastet, I warned you. I told you—stay away from anyone but me!"
"I kissed you. I gave you my vow. And you broke it. You defiled that vow!"
Bastet gagged from lack of air, but his eyes never wavered in fear.
"…I'm done with you, Yofar…" His voice was hoarse, trembling, but resolute. "One kiss, and you think you own me? Everyone stands by your side. They obey your every command. No one ever thinks you're wrong."
His tears slipped silently down his cheeks, but he didn’t bother to wipe them away. His fingers loosened their grip on Yofar's arm as he stopped struggling.
"I regret it…" Bastet's voice was choked with emotion. "I should never have come back to Upper Egypt with you."
His sobs deepened. His body curled inward as he glared at Yofar with tear-filled eyes, his voice thick with resentment.
"I regret it… I should never have listened to the AI’s nonsense… Yofar… I hate you."
"…If you want to take back what you gave me… then take it." His voice trembled. "If it makes you happy, then I'll just endure your coldness and your neglect… alone…"
Yofar's pupils trembled, scorched by the sight of the boy’s tear-streaked face. His lips quivered, his grip loosening slightly.
Bastet curled into himself, his quiet sobs turning into full, unrestrained wails. He cried until he was coughing, his body shaking so violently he no longer cared about appearances.
Falling in love with someone so high above him had been both the greatest fortune and the cruelest curse.
Yofar could give him everything the world coveted—protection, wealth, power. He could shield him from countless dangers.
But when the danger was gone, Yofar himself became the one who hurt him the most.
On the bed, the silent king loomed over the weeping boy. Beneath him, Bastet lay curled up, his sobs no longer sounding like cries but like something breaking apart, deep and guttural.
He buried his face into the blankets, his exposed neck flushed red, veins standing out starkly against his skin.
"…If I'm wrong, please tell me. Just tell me!"
Bastet clutched his own hair, his voice breaking in despair.
"You never tell me anything… Don't torture me with my own feelings…"
"I'm begging you."
I really, really might love you. Deeply. But don't use that love to torment me.
In my twenty-something years of life, I've never felt pain like this.
And I refuse to get used to it. I don't want to.
Bastet cried for a long time. It wasn’t just about his fight with Yofar—it was everything. The confusion and helplessness since coming to Egypt, the longing for his home and family. Everything had piled up to this moment, erupting all at once.
Yofar watched as Bastet broke down completely, his earth-shattering rage slowly dissipating.
He had always thought of Bastet as just a cat. A creature that didn’t understand human emotions.
But hearing those raw, anguished words come from Bastet’s lips—Yofar realized the truth.
The one who had never understood was himself.
He leaned down and wrapped his arms tightly around the boy buried in the blankets.
"It’s because I was jealous."
The cold, ruthless king pushed his hand through the space between Bastet’s face and the blankets. When his fingers brushed against the hot, tear-streaked skin, his lips pressed into a thin line. Finally, he admitted—
"Stop crying, Bastet."
"—I was jealous. I was the one who hurt you. You did nothing wrong."
"I wanted you to give up everything and only look at me. I didn’t want you to be close to anyone else. I wanted to keep you entirely in my grasp…"
"It was never about you being unworthy of the Assyrian princess. What I meant was—"
"I don’t allow it. You belong to me."
"I don’t want anyone else to see you. To see your smile. To enjoy spending time with you. To feel you nuzzle close to them—"
Yofar shut his eyes, swallowing his pride. His lips pressed against the damp curls at the back of Bastet’s head. With a sigh, he finally let the truth slip.
"I get so jealous it burns me alive. I lose control of my emotions. I want to hurt you—make you tremble in fear, curl up in a corner—"
"When I saw you in the Assyrian princess's bed, I knew you were just sleeping in your cat form. But I still couldn’t stop thinking—what if something happened? Did she hold you? If she did, did your paws touch her chest? Was she wearing that revealing dress? Did she let you lie on her stomach—"
Bastet's sobs quieted. He suddenly felt… embarrassed. Especially when Yofar mentioned lying on her stomach.
Yofar continued, his voice dark and low.
"The moment you’re not by my side, I start imagining things. That you’re with some maid or guard, exposing your belly for them to pet, licking their fingers—"
"I DON’T DO THAT!" Bastet shouted, his voice muffled by the blankets.
"No, you don’t."
"But you belong to me. And I can’t stand the thought of you being anywhere else. Even if someone just looks at you, it feels like they’ve already touched you."
"……"
What an absolute bastard.
If he wasn’t a bastard, why would he torment me like this—only to say things that make my heart skip a beat?
Why does it sound like he actually cares about me?
"Do you know why, Bastet? Why I think like this?"
"…Because you have a damn twisted obsession with control!" Bastet muttered angrily.
Yofar chuckled softly. He pressed a light kiss to the back of Bastet’s head.
"Think back one more step."
"…I don’t know."
"Really?"
"Hmph!"
"You really can’t guess?"
Silence.
Then, a barely audible voice—
"……"
"I love you."
"……..."
Bastet suddenly flipped over from under the covers, staring wide-eyed at the man behind him in shock.
The storm had passed, leaving behind a sky washed clean, an even deeper and more brilliant blue. Yofar gazed at Bastet with a calm expression. As Bastet regained his senses, he instinctively tried to burrow back under the blanket, but Yofar cupped his face, stopping him.
"I understand now," Yofar said. "I know I am not a gentle person. But arguing is meaningless if we can confirm that we are the same. If we are the same, then there will be no more problems."
"Bastet, I love you. That is my answer. And you? Do you love me?"
"……"
The word love didn’t quite suit Yofar. Hearing him say it made Bastet’s face heat up—it felt both sudden and a little suspicious.
Bastet shut his mouth, refusing to speak. His eyes and the tip of his nose were flushed red. Compared to Yofar, he always seemed so pathetic, always the one being bullied.
But Yofar didn’t let him escape. He simply maintained that position, staring at him until Bastet’s face burned hot. Finally, Bastet couldn’t take it anymore and gave a small, reluctant nod.
Yofar smiled. His pale skin seemed to glow even in the darkness, and his sharp, narrow eyes curved. His long lashes cast shadows like a delicate curtain, and beneath them, his sapphire-blue eyes shimmered.
"Do you remember our promise?"
Bastet looked at his face, and his mind quickly recalled Yofar’s words—Once you understand what marriage and love truly mean, I will…
"Now?!"
Bastet felt awkward. They had just argued! If something happened now, it wouldn’t feel good at all. He was still mad at Yofar!
Even if he explained himself and tried to make things right, I’m still angry! He was so cruel to me before…
"Don’t expect me to forgive you," Bastet muttered.
"I know, Bastet. From now on, I will learn how to make you happy, alright?"
Yofar let go of him and sat up, beginning to undress. A few pieces of fabric were carelessly tossed onto the floor, along with strings of jeweled belts and ornaments slipping through his pale fingers, clinking as they fell.
Then, Yofar, completely bare, stood before Bastet.
Bastet had to admit—Yofar really was like a panther. He didn’t look particularly bulky at first glance, but once his clothes were off, every lean muscle on his body exuded raw power.
Bastet gaped, unable to figure out how to react.
Yofar, however, grasped his ankle, pressed a kiss onto the top of his foot, and lifted his gaze to meet Bastet’s.
Bastet’s heart pounded wildly!
"I don't want to see you, one day, in your human form, lying on top of that woman. This is the best solution. You’re afraid of my coldness? Well, now I’ll show you something else."
Yofar's lips slowly curved into a knowing smile.
"Who knows whether you'll fear the heat or the cold in the future."
"……"
Bastet watched as Yofar kissed the top of his foot, feeling his blood rush downward.
He swallowed, cursing inwardly—This is going to kill me!
Before today, Bastet had never imagined that Yofar’s noble lips would touch anything other than a golden goblet or his own lips.
NSFW
Yet now, Yofar held his ankle, his lips trailing along the milky-white skin of his foot, moving upward. His soft, full lips gently sucked on Bastet’s skin, applying just enough pressure to leave a faint mark. Bastet bit his lip as he watched Yofar’s crimson tongue flick across the gap between his toes.
The wet, clicking sounds made him feel both embarrassed and flustered.
But Yofar continued, his kisses trailing higher and higher. Soon, he reached the base of Bastet’s thigh, his nose nearly brushing against the small bulge hidden beneath the covers.
Bastet lay on the bed, one leg bent, the other lifted slightly by Yofar. He felt tense... and, well, a certain excitement that all men would understand.
Yofar knelt on the bed with his legs spread apart, towering over him, powerful and predatory. His muscles rippled beneath his cold, pale skin—his abs sculpted in firm ridges, his lower back curving with deep indentations.
His body was sleek, like a panther. His platinum hair cascaded over his collarbones, resting in the hollow of his neck. Bastet had the sudden urge to lean in, to run his tongue along those dips, to taste him.
He was beauty incarnate. A beast in human form.
Bastet couldn’t help but imagine—a wild panther pinning down a little black cat, licking its fur in a show of affection.
It was as if the beast before him had read his thoughts. Yofar lifted his gaze, icy blue eyes peeking out from beneath thick platinum lashes, locking onto his cat-eared boy.
Bastet saw something in Yofar’s eyes that made his face flush. He quickly turned away, unable to meet that gaze.
"Heh..."
Yofar let out a low chuckle and leaned down. But instead of kissing the inside of Bastet’s thigh, he grasped the thin fabric covering him and pulled it taut, forcing the outline of his arousal to become more pronounced.
"Mmh!"
Bastet clenched his fists against the sheets. He was already hard.
This was the first time he had shown such an… indecent side to someone he liked. The inexperienced boy was caught between two fears—one, that Yofar would mock him for being too small, and two, that he would be too rough and ignore him completely.
"Does it feel uncomfortable?"
Yofar exhaled a warm breath over the spot, sending a shiver down Bastet’s spine. His waist went weak, and a small tremor ran through him.
Bastet hesitantly nodded. “Mm… A-a little.” So… would he do something about it?
The idea of an Egyptian Pharaoh tending to him like this was something Bastet had never even dared to imagine.
“Mm.”
Yofar hummed in acknowledgment. Then, under Bastet’s wide-eyed gaze, he extended his tongue, pressing the warm, velvety surface against him.
His crimson tongue traced delicate patterns, mapping out every contour with slow, deliberate strokes. The fabric dampened under his touch, his silken platinum hair cascading down as he leaned closer. Then, parting his lips slightly, he enclosed the spot, grazing it lightly with his teeth.
Bastet froze. The sensation was no longer just a teasing tickle—it was overwhelming. He barely managed to stifle a sharp gasp, his whole body tensing.
“Yofar…”
His voice trembled, caught between pleading and disbelief.
Bastet arched his body slightly, instinctively wanting to close his legs, overwhelmed by the unfamiliar sensation.
The damp fabric clung to him, the soft texture brushing against his sensitive skin, sending shivers down his spine. His face flushed as warmth spread through him, making his breath hitch.
Unable to resist, he collapsed back onto the soft pillows, beads of sweat forming on his skin. His dark hair stuck to his forehead as he bit his lip, gripping the sheets tightly. His body was tense with anticipation, caught between embarrassment and exhilaration.
Yofar didn’t rush—he moved with deliberate ease, his touch lingering. The intensity of the moment left Bastet breathless, his mind clouded with emotion. He squeezed his eyes shut, overcome by the unfamiliar yet electrifying experience.
When it was finally over, a deep sense of warmth spread through him, quickly followed by embarrassment. Bastet’s face burned as he hastily covered it with his hands.
“Oh no… That was— I can’t believe…” he mumbled, his voice muffled.
Yofar chuckled, his gaze softening. "No need to hide," he murmured.
But Bastet could only groan in response, utterly mortified.
Bastet felt his face heat up, overwhelmed by a mix of emotions. He couldn’t believe how vulnerable he felt in front of Yofar. The intensity in the man’s gaze made his heart race, his mind blank with embarrassment.
Yofar let out a low chuckle, his expression both amused and affectionate. He leaned in, brushing his lips lightly against Bastet’s, his breath warm and inviting. "You’re always so easily flustered," he murmured.
Bastet wanted to protest, but Yofar didn’t give him the chance. He deepened the kiss, slow and deliberate, drawing Bastet further into the moment. Their fingers intertwined as Yofar’s hand cradled the back of his head, keeping him close.
The warmth between them grew as they held each other, exchanging quiet whispers and gentle touches. Bastet found himself melting into Yofar’s embrace, the lingering tension from before slowly dissipating.
Though he tried to resist, he couldn’t deny how much he longed for Yofar’s presence—his touch, his words, his unwavering gaze that seemed to see through him completely.
For now, he simply let himself be held.
Erotic and bold.
When Yofar put his fingers behind Bastet, Bastet hissed, tears in her eyes, swallowed the excess saliva, raised his tail and wrapped it around his hips, grasped the tip of his tail with both hands, and lifted his back to make it easier for Yofar to enter.
Yofar pressed hard from behind. This position allowed him to penetrate very deeply. The boy's slender white back, waist and buttocks looked terribly thin under his erect penis.
Yofar grabbed Bastet's waist with his hands, almost squeezing it together.
Bastet looked back with a sigh, and was a little frightened for a moment.
"Relax." Yofar kissed along the boy's spine and finally bit the triangular ear on Bastet's left side.
"Yofar, I'm afraid..."
Bastet sniffed his red nose because his eyelids were still a little swollen from crying.
Yofar took one look at his face and almost laughed out of anger.
"Don't look back at me."
"ah?"
"If you look back again, I'll thrust inside you right now, making you wail in pain and convulse. Your whole body will be squeezed into a piece like a rag. I won't stop... I'll fuck you deeper and make your eyes redder and more beautiful."
“…”
Bastet turned his head silently, his neck turning red.
Yofar closed his eyes, he was equally excited and aroused, he was also burning with desire, it took almost all of his patience from being on the throne for him not to just ignore the life and death of the people below him, and just press down on the pair of buttocks, stretching that small "spot" that bothered him until it was wounded.
After thinking about it, Yofar stood up, lifted the heavy gauze curtains and walked out.
Bastet was startled and thought that Yofar was not going to do it anymore. Fortunately, Yofar came back soon, and Beth had difficulty moving her eyes away from the part of him that was raised high and ready to go.
Without saying a word, Yofar pushed Beth back down, laid on Beth's waist and back, unscrewed a box of ointment with his fingers, and stuffed them all into the hole behind Beth with his cool fingers!
The cold fingers brought the slippery ointment, and Bastet screamed, then he reacted and bit his fingers. He wanted to lower his head and endure it, but Yofar, who had applied the ointment, quickly bit his sensitive cat ears again, and pressed his palms with the remaining ointment on them on his chest.
Knead and play with the wet nipples.
"I, I...don't touch me from the front...I'm not a woman, don't..."
The paste melted the intestinal wall, and Bastet's two little beans were shamefully rubbed, itchy and numb, his heart pumped blood like crazy, and he could even hear the sound of blood flowing through his blood vessels!
Yofar licked the cat's ears until they were wet. Bastet could feel his tongue entering his ear holes. The sound of water was infinitely amplified, again and again - it is said that there is a kind of orgasm called intracranial orgasm.
Bastet's head was hot and the blood was flowing backwards. He couldn't help but tense up and bit his palm and ejaculated again, hitting the bed.
The afterglow of the climax made him feel so weak that he almost fell down, but Yofar hugged him in time.
With heavier breathing, Yofar looked at Bastet's face after his climax, closed his eyes again to hide the surging desire for destruction in his ice-blue pupils, and checked the extent of the melting of the paste on Bastet's back.
It's very hot.
The milky white ointment exuded fragrance, melting from the small hole into a translucent state, and overflowed from the shrinking folds. It was not known whether it was mixed with Bastet's own fluid, which flowed along the gap and onto Bastet's lower body hair and testicles.
Yofar bit the butt in front of him hard.
Bastet screamed in pain, and just as he turned back, he was pierced through the back.
His mind went blank and his knees trembled as he thought, Yofar had at least inserted half of it!
As this happened, fireworks burst into Bastet's mind, and someone whispered and laughed in his ear: The person entering him is finally starting, it will hurt, but he like it so much, finally, it's starting...
As expected, Yofar inserted his cold palm into Bastet's black hair and grabbed the wet curly hair, causing Bastet to raise his head high, his neck tense in a fragile arc, and his Adam's apple sliding nervously.
He pinched Bastet's waist with his other hand and slowly moved with the ointment.
When the situation at the back relaxed and Yofar came in completely, Bastet heard Yofar sigh deeply, and he himself was trembling.
No fear, no anxiety.
On the contrary, Bastet felt strangely happy and wanted to cry.
Perhaps he already knew that Yofar would not easily make a promise to someone or go to bed with someone.
Anyway, he just felt happy.
It felt like they had slept together, and the cold and proud king behind them belonged to him.
When Yofar entered him, Yofar fell silent instead. He soothed Bastet's nipples with his hands, grabbed Bastet's hair, and slammed into his intestinal wall hard.
Making love alone is like a war with all its might.
Bastet was the land he conquered. He let Yofar thrust into his body quickly and ferociously, letting out a shameful climax scream. His knees and waist softened as he was pushed forward continuously. In the end, he couldn't help but throw himself into the quilt and sob...
The tailbone was numb, and blood was coming out from the stretched, red and swollen hole, and then sticking to the erect penis and being brought in. The round head was stuck in the glands of the intestinal wall and grinding and hitting, making Bastet's eardrums hot and his eyes dull.
It was so pleasurable that it felt like his throat was blocked and he couldn't scream.
Yofar moved even faster before shooting.
The "pa pa pa" friction made a continuous sound of water, and the sticky ointment produced tiny foams, and the intestinal fluid mixed with the foam dripped down the place where the two people were having sex.
Some of it slid down Bastet's thigh, leaving a shiny line...
"Bastet..."
Yofar suddenly hugged Bastet tightly, his voice low and sexy, and his lips pressed against Bastet's pursed triangular cat ears so that he could hear his call, and the hot stuff sprayed into Bastet's body as Yofar spoke.
Even though it was so hot, Bastet was so sensitive that he shivered violently in Yofar's arms.
Realizing that it was finally over, Bastet belatedly let out a sob, burying his face in the blanket as he hoarsely cried out:
“…You, you went too deep, I feel awful… I feel awful, do you know that… The first time—The first time doing it from behind you are being a scumbag, I… I…”
Yofar pressed his lips together, the corners of his mouth involuntarily curling up. He dug Bastet out from under the blanket, flipped him over, and pulled out a cloth to wipe the cloudy fluids from his belly, buttocks, and thighs.
Bastet was still complaining in a coquettish manner. Yofar picked him up, positioning him to straddle his waist face-to-face. One hand lifted Bastet’s cat tail, supporting his still-damp bottom, while the other cradled the back of his head.
"Want to go again? Not from behind this time."
Bastet looked at their position, his eyelashes wet with tears, his eyelids swollen beyond recognition.
"This position is deep too… Also something a scumbag would do!"
"Do you want to or not?"
"…y-yes."
Yofar outright laughed, tilting his head to take Bastet’s chin into his mouth, pressing down on his head as he licked away his tears.
With Bastet’s tear-streaked face beneath him, he entered him once more.
____
Author’s Note: This is the third update.
Hmm…
Yofar still has a lot to learn in the future.
His and Bastet’s views on love are completely mismatched (actually, Yofar might not even have a concept of love at all).
But he cares about Bastet, and he acknowledges that fact without hesitation.
As a king, Yofar holds a status and power in his era that we can hardly imagine. When he begins to learn how to comfort his partner, it signifies the emergence of emotions softer than those of a mere ruler.
Yofar’s childhood, upbringing, and psyche are all deeply flawed.
As mentioned before, given his background, Yofar needed someone to change him. Bastet is that person—the one who appeared in Yofar’s world and, little by little, taught him what emotions and love are, what gentleness and compassion mean.
Let them slowly work through it together.
T/N: Please give support on my ko-fi page, thank you🍊🍊🍊
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