If I hadn’t lived through it myself, I’d never have imagined uttering lines like "W-wahhh it hurts! Please stop hitting me!" in a tearful, pitiful whine. The sheer embarrassment was off the charts.
Damn it! That’s the kind of thing a scolded child would say! Hours of carefully crafting my majestic (supposedly?) Overlord image—gone in an instant!
But as this pink-haired loli, I genuinely feared pain. To make that damn Carol stop spanking my bottom, my body’s instincts took over, deploying utterly undignified tactics: simple sobbing pleas, slightly more advanced tearful apologies. Yet Carol remained unmoved. Worse—her jade-green eyes gleamed with clear enjoyment at punishing me. How infuriating.
Mid-spanking, she even paused with wicked amusement. Gently wiping my tears—and snot—with a handkerchief, she patted my head.
Just as I thought it was over, she yanked down my panties. Her fingers brushed my poor bottom, now surely the color of a ripe apple. Then, under my despairing gaze, her hand rose again.
I’d probably never dare insult Carol’s cooking again.
...
In a dim, gothic-style room sat an adorable pink-haired loli with tiny horns.
For some reason, she was crying loudly, eyes red-rimmed, tiny hands wiping tears as if deeply wronged.
She was cradled in the arms of a black-haired beauty wearing thin-rimmed glasses—and also sporting demon horns. The small loli looked like a oversized doll, held securely by one of the older girl’s arms while the other gently stroked her head. Soft whispers brushed the loli’s ear, soothing words meant to comfort the pitiful, adorable creature.
The scene radiated warmth and healing—if you ignored the loli’s equally red bottom.
Add that detail, and it became clear: this poor pink-haired loli had erred, just received a "gentle" lesson from her elder sister, and was now enduring post-punishment comfort and scolding.
Unfortunately, that pink-haired loli was none other than yours truly: Sibyl Daliana. Theoretical commander of the Demon Kin army. Terrifying transmigrator with OP insta-kill passives and insane growth potential. Master mage of Minor Fireball and healing spells. And expert practitioner of the borderline-bug-tier skill: Moe Overload™.
As for "that pathetic loli Overlord who just got spanked over someone’s lap"? Best left out of the self-introduction.
Humiliated, furious, and utterly powerless, I could only turn my head away in a huff. Whether this was childish didn’t matter anymore.
I’d already resigned myself to it. *I’m a loli now—acting immature is normal, right? Venting my frustration matters most.*
But Carol proved surprisingly skilled—and practiced—at soothing wounded lolis.
Her gentle comfort and calm lecturing seemed ordinary, yet humans aren’t heartless. My pre-transmigration sensitivity resurfaced; I couldn’t ignore the pretty girl’s kindness. When she used healing magic to soothe my stinging bottom and promised compensation, my attitude slowly shifted.
The moment she popped a sweet candy into my mouth—then revealed a whole bag more—I decided to forgive her. Pretend nothing happened.
Beyond this body’s instinctive craving for sugar, my rational mind knew better than to alienate Carol after a spanking. I was already estranged from Alan, only on neutral terms with Evelyn. Burning bridges with Carol would make survival impossible.
Especially with the sword of "a traitor within the Demon Kin ranks" still hanging over my neck. Until I confirmed whether those two idiot singers were the only moles—and whether my subordinates had dealt with them—I needed protection to survive this dangerous world while I grew stronger.
Carol seemed the safest choice. Not perfectly reliable, but she’d known me longest and appeared most devoted. Most importantly, time with her felt comfortable. That’s the allure of the "yasashii" type—no awkwardness, just smooth gameplay.
*Sigh.* Fine. One spanking. A lesson bought with pain. Just never badmouth Carol’s cooking again.
Technically, she’d traded one bag of candy for the right to redden my bottom. I’d gotten utterly scammed. But what could a weak, pitiful, helpless—yet sugar-loving—loli do?
Wiping the last tears from my eyes, I pointed a tiny finger at Carol’s candy bag and chirped in a milk-sweet voice:
"Carol-nee, I-I forgive you. Hand over the candies now."
Carol chuckled, passing me the bag. "So impatient, my little Sibyl~ Don’t worry, they’re all for you. But remember, Great Demon King—only a few candies a day."
"Got it, got it! I’m eating them on your lap." I’d fully embraced the pink-haired loli role, even mimicking childish petulance. How... commendable.
"As you wish, Great Demon King."
Her lap—site of both knee-pillow comfort and spanking punishment—became my pillow once more.
Was this... samsara?
