As they exited the school building, Yui kept her head bowed, cheeks flushed with embarrassment. Kagura, too, felt a twinge of awkwardness. They had only met today, yet Yui, due to a stumble, had inadvertently straddled his face, and Kagura, acting on instinct, had indulged her, even bringing her to a subtle climax.
"Ahem, Yuigahama, I'm sorry…"
"Don't… don't apologize! Stop making me relive it!"
Yui puffed out her cheeks, flailing her fists at him, though none landed.
"Ahem!" Kagura scratched his cheek, glancing toward the school building. "Maybe you don't need to treat me. I feel a bit bad about it."
"Why not? I'd feel indebted otherwise! I'm the one who's embarrassed! You even gave me that precious talisman…"
"Well, didn't you already… repay me?"
Kagura raised an eyebrow suggestively.
Beep, intimacy card swiped.
A literal "payment by intimacy."
"Repay? Wha—?! You're bringing it up again?! Idiot, idiot, pervert!" Yui's fists finally swung at him, though they carried no force.
Kagura laughed heartily, gently catching her wrist. "I'll wait here. Go grab your bag. Today's on me, as an apology for upsetting you."
"Ugh, Sawamura-san, you're so sly!"
Yui rubbed her reddened eyes, wiping away tears of shame and frustration. "How am I sly…?"
"Maybe I shouldn't have gone to that room for help…" Yui's expression dimmed, and she bowed slightly to Kagura. "I'm sorry. Even if it was beyond my control, I did something unfair to you and Yukinoshita-san."
"Huh? Why unfair to Yukinoshita?"
"Because… because…" Yui looked up, her face flushing again. Finally, she snapped, "Argh, Sawamura-san, you're teasing me on purpose! I'm done with you, dummy!"
She spun around, stomping her foot in a huff.
"Er, wait, that? You've misunderstood! Yukinoshita and I aren't like that." At least, not yet.
Kagura grabbed her hand.
"Huh? You're not?" Yui turned back, blinking rapidly. "Then what were you two doing alone in that room?"
Kagura explained the Service Club and his role as a member, clearing up the misunderstanding.
"W-What?! So I got it all wrong? I'm so sorry… I'm such an idiot, ehehe~" Yui tapped her head, sticking out her tongue in apology.
Her mood visibly lifted, and Kagura sighed in relief.
He urged her to fetch her bag.
"I can't go alone…"
Yui fidgeted, blushing, and clutched his sleeve.
"Er… Mai-senpai's issue is resolved. With the talisman, she can't harm you."
"Even so…"
Yui tried to whisper something, standing on tiptoe but falling short. Resigned, she motioned for Kagura to lean down. Her soft, girlish voice murmured, "Um… I'm… bare down there. What if someone sees up my skirt from the stairs? Please, Sawamura-san, walk close behind me… I have spare underwear in my bag. I'll change in the restroom."
Oh, that explained it.
Kagura, unfamiliar with such feminine concerns, recalled how he'd once had Hayasaka clean the study without underwear, standing on a ladder while he admired the view. She'd "accidentally" dropped La Dame aux Camélias on his head, leaving a bump.
Thus, Kagura gallantly escorted Yui to Class 2-C as her "floral knight," then treated her to drinks at Gametida Café.
As for what "flower" this referred to… well, those in the know would understand.
Forty minutes earlier. Service Club Room.
Since Kagura's cryptic mention of a "plush," Yukino had felt uneasy, as if something invisible to her was perceptible to him.
"It's all in my head, all in my head…"
Yukino reassured herself it was psychological.
Kagura had been gone for over twenty minutes, and despite waiting, he hadn't returned. She considered calling but realized that, though he'd joined the Service Club, they hadn't exchanged contacts.
Had he met with some mishap?
Surely not.
Given her strange physical reactions—her private areas dampening when alone with him—Yukino darkly wished he'd meet some minor misfortune and never return.
But she quickly banished the thought. Cursing others was neither right nor just.
"I'll read for fifteen more minutes. If he doesn't show, I'll leave. The door doesn't lock, so he can grab his bag anytime."
Glancing at the clock above the storage pile, Yukino resolved—and she'd need to change her underwear before leaving…
Anticipating time alone with Kagura, she'd started bringing two spare pairs to school. If one got wet, she'd switch to the other. Surely two would suffice?
Glancing at Kagura's abandoned bag, she suppressed her odd impulses and focused on her book.
Unfortunately, the protagonist and her lover were passionately entangled behind her husband's back.
Yukino, already battling an itch in her private areas, flushed. She snapped the book shut, muttering, "Why must I endure this torment…"
"Resist temptation. Just one more glance."
Despite her words, her body betrayed her, crossing her legs.
Unlike boys, girls could stimulate their sensitive spots by squeezing their thighs. Yukino did so unconsciously.
She'd never masturbated until yesterday—her first time. But once begun, the pleasure was addictive.
The book described the heroine's drunken husband stirring to find water, a deliveryman nearing the doorbell, yet the lovers, oblivious, reveled in carnal ecstasy. The heroine straddled her lover, pressed against the wall, as he thrust vigorously.
His tender words and her "darling, my love~" moans made Yukino's cheeks burn, sweat beading on her face.
She rhythmically squeezed her thighs, lingering on the vivid descriptions, yet found them insufficient, craving more stimulation.
Snapping out of it, she noticed her crossed legs, uncrossed them, and slapped her cheeks to clear her mind.
"Really, what am I doing… indulging in such shameless acts again."
Cursing her weakness, Yukino flipped past the page in a huff.
Time slipped by. Her half-hearted thigh-squeezing left her in an uncomfortable limbo, unable to focus on her beloved book.
She closed it, sighing, and stepped to the window for fresh air.
Just then, she spotted Kagura and Yui, who'd visited earlier, walking and laughing together as they left the school.
"He's already gone… Is she the girl he fancies?" A pang of defeat stirred in Yukino.
Watching them depart, she glanced at Kagura's bag on the sofa armrest. Licking her lips, she leaned against the window, murmuring, "It's wrong to rummage through someone's things."
"Indeed, it's not proper."
She repeated herself.
A voice within urged her to approach Kagura's bag, even to rub herself against it.
"I shouldn't… I really shouldn't…"
"But… a quick peek wouldn't hurt, right?"
Guilt-laden, Yukino whispered.
"Just a glance. I won't take anything."
Succumbing to the beguiling voice, she crept toward the bag. As her hand reached out, she froze.
Moments later, she darted back from the unopenable door, patting her chest. "Almost forgot to 'lock' it… How careless."
She closed the window, drew the curtains, and turned the room into a sealed chamber.
The door couldn't lock, so she barricaded it with cardboard boxes and desks, ensuring it would take significant force to breach.
Checking the time, she noted it wasn't too late. Sitting casually before Kagura's bag, she rubbed her temples, muttering, "Why can't I control myself… Sawamura must have planted some suggestion in me… Hypnosis, perhaps?"
The thought of hypnosis heightened her wariness of Kagura.
But now…
Her hand disobediently grazed his satchel, used for half a year since the last replacement. Though cleaned periodically, it hadn't been washed since the term began, bearing traces of his sweat.
Yukino gripped the strap, drawing it to her nose, inhaling deeply.
She knew this was improper, even perverse, but she couldn't stop.
She didn't want to, but her body defied her.
The scent of Kagura's sweat sent a warm rush to her core, her private areas flooding with arousal.
She crossed her legs, telling herself it was to stem the flow.
But squeezing only teased her sensitive clit. She leaned over the bag, sniffing the strap incessantly.
If anyone saw this…
Yukino couldn't bear the thought.
Her sense of smell dulled from the intensity. Frustrated, she stood, gripping the strap, seized by an urge to rub it between her thighs.
Snapping out of it, she slapped her cheeks.
"No, no, what am I doing? Am I a pervert?" Shamed, she shook her head. She was no pervert.
Yet, sitting down, she stealthily unzipped the bag, revealing pristine textbooks, notebooks, and a pencil case.
Kagura preferred pencil cases over stationery boxes, unlike Hayasaka, who adorned hers with sparkly stickers.
"The… pencil case… Can I look inside?"
Yukino asked herself.
No one could answer but her.
Her hand delved into the bag, finding the pencil case and unzipping it. She touched a cool metal pen—Kagura's sleek style, unlike Hayasaka's colorful plastic ones.
The moment she felt it, she recoiled, clutching her racing heart, muttering, "No, I can't keep doing this. I need to put everything back."
But her hand returned, grasping the pen. Closing her eyes, she yanked it out.
"Why did I take it…?"
Trembling, she rubbed her temples, torn.
She meant to restore order, but her body disobeyed.
Her shameful parts craved something cylindrical… hot, large, hard, and thick.
Her feminine instincts tormented her. Checking the pen's retracted tip, she furtively slipped it under her skirt.
The pen's textured, ridged button grazed her damp underwear, sending a shudder through her.
This familiar yet forbidden pleasure felt sinful, surpassing yesterday's manual exploration.
"What's wrong with me… I'm not that kind of girl… I swore yesterday I'd never do it again…"
Regretful tears mingled with her arousal, soaking her thick underwear.
In that moment, Yukino confirmed two things:
First, Sawamura Spencer Kagura had undoubtedly hypnotized her.
Second, pleasuring herself was… incredibly satisfying.
Her nipples hardened beneath her bra, aching for rough attention, while her slit, no longer contained, oozed with slick fluids. Normally dutiful in concealing her intimate entrance, her lips now clung together, sliding effortlessly with each movement, delivering unparalleled pleasure.
Contrary to her icy, mature facade, Yukino considered her private areas "childlike."
Not conceptually, but physically.
Her lips seemed shorter than textbook diagrams—less "petals" than a seamless slit, lacking mature contours. They resembled a seven-year-old's rather than a seventeen-year-old's, though seven was an exaggeration.
Narrow and tightly sealed, they formed a straight line from clit to base, slightly plump in the middle, covering everything unless parted. Even with legs spread and a mirror, only the tip showed a gap, the rest shyly hidden unless manually opened.
In an unabashed pose, like hugging her knees, the area appeared rounded and prominent. Peeling it open before a mirror felt utterly indecent.
It was indeed youthful, with a pronounced mound, so Yukino chose skirted swimsuits to conceal it. She'd never worn a swimsuit before a man.
As for hair… she barely had any.
A faint patch, like a child's down, grew above her mound near her abdomen, centimeters from her clit. Otherwise, it was bare, truly earning the name "mound of shame," making her cringe in the mirror.
It was too sensual, too provocative—never to be seen by a man.
She wished for more hair; her bare mound felt like an underdeveloped child's, much like her modest chest.
Kagura's pen, with its dice-like, textured button, served as a "massager." Ignoring how often he'd handled it, Yukino covered her mouth, leaned back into his former seat, kicked off her shoes, and propped her feet on the sofa. She pressed the button against the wettest part of her underwear, rubbing up and down.
"Ugh…"
One stroke made her legs quiver, threatening to close. She forced them apart, targeting the button on her swollen clit. Though cushioned by fabric, she felt its engorgement, peeking out like a budding lotus or a sprouting bamboo shoot—vibrant and vital.
"No… this… I can't handle it…"
Shaking her head, Yukino's left hand clenched near her jaw, her lips muttering self-reproach for succumbing to lust. Yet her secret garden bloomed, offering its nectar to Kagura's oft-used "metal bee."
She guided the bee to tap her dripping bud, rolling it up, down, and side to side. Teasing it alone stole her breath, her gasps trembling like a fish out of water, silent to avoid detection.
Her face flushed, her left hand—meant to cover her mouth—drifted to her chest. "Drifted" rather than "gripped," as there was little to grasp.
Through her clothes, brushing her peanut-sized nipple sent an electric jolt, prompting an instinctive thrust of her hips, quickly withdrawn. She slumped on the sofa, legs splayed indecently, feeling waves of spasms in her core.
Her underwear was drenched, risking her skirt. Experienced from yesterday, Yukino removed it after catching her breath.
Unlike yesterday's prompt bagging, today she panted excitedly over her underwear. Standing by the sofa, she turned it inside out, touching the slick coating. Sniffing it, the shameful scent dizzied her.
Well-read, she knew animals used pheromones to attract mates. She was no different, exuding an aroma to entice men.
Though no man was present.
Her tongue flicked out, tasting it—a sour, salty flavor, distinct from any she'd known, utterly lascivious.
She'd accidentally stumbled onto explicit sites, seeing men lick women's private areas, baffled why anyone would. Perhaps hormones altered male perception.
Imagining herself a helpless girl "hypnotized" by Kagura, she indulged the fantasy, though she had no masochistic tendencies. Convinced of his manipulation, she rolled her underwear into a ball and stuffed it in her mouth, mimicking a violated maiden.
"Mm… no… not there…"
Her faint, muffled whimpers emerged as she leaned against the window, recalling the book's adulterous heroine. She spread her legs, slipping her right hand under her skirt, pressing the pen's cool button to her dripping lips, rolling it like a back massager.
"I said no… why are you so stubborn… resorting to crime to claim my body…"
Sobbing, the taste of her fluids flooded her nose and tongue, the shameful liquid both repellent and thrilling, as if avenging someone.
In truth, she avenged only her former ignorance of sexual pleasure.
The cool roller soon glistened with her fluids. Guided by her right hand, it slid from the clit's seam, pressing her narrow lips, coating them, smoothing wrinkles only to create more.
She knew she was masturbating with a boy's pen—an act forbidden at home, socially taboo, and against her "no second time" vow. But it was too late; she was addicted.
The roller slipped into her slit, grazing her pulsing, dripping entrance. She'd seen online terms like "flesh pot," which irked her, but now she understood—the soft cavity, gushing with shameful heat, was aptly named.
She yearned to plunge the pen inside, but reason prevailed. She withdrew it, returning to her clit.
Peering at her skirt, too dark to see, she opened the curtain behind her. No one could see her actions.
Sunset's golden rays flooded the room, reflecting off a mirror, illuminating her shameful hand movements. Her wrist veins bulged, tirelessly chasing fleeting pleasure.
Her left hand hiked her skirt, tucking it into the waistband, exposing her abdomen to her mound—a sight only she could witness.
Bathed in sunlight like a goddess, she indulged in this deplorable act.
Instead of fondling her chest, she grabbed a book—an erotic novel, fanning her desire. Her fingers refused to stop.
Her knees buckled repeatedly. Finding the pen dull, she set it aside, parting her lips with two fingers, trying to pinch the slick bud. Her narrow lips eluded her grip, so she rubbed them, focusing on the bud, sliding rapidly.
Her aroused slit resembled a lingering pink droplet.
"Mm… no… something's coming… I'm not a bad girl… spare me, please…"
Her whimpers, too soft and muffled for others, quickened her hand. She arched back, then thrust forward.
Something surged within. Panicked, she pressed two fingers to her lips, parting them to reveal engorged, deep-pink flesh, layered like an oval.
Fluids gushed, splattering the floor, weakening her legs and waist.
Biting her lip, she covered her lewd expression with the book, propping herself on the windowsill, savoring the peak of carnal satisfaction.
Her slit spasmed uncontrollably, her inner flesh convulsing. She mused that a man inside her now would, as books described, release instantly.
Recovering from the intense climax took time. Calmed, Yukino scolded herself hundreds of times, vowing no "fourth" time.
Why not "third"?
Because she'd climaxed twice today—once on the sofa, then at the window.
She swiftly cleaned the soaked floor, erasing all traces, polished Kagura's pen, returned it to its case, and zipped the bag, restoring the strap. Brushing her hair, she donned her usual cool demeanor and left.
Twenty minutes earlier.
After helping Kagura dispel Yui's intense "hide and seek" delusion, Mai Sakurajima, still irked by his accidental grope, returned awkwardly to the Service Club room.
Why "returned"? Because Mai, a third-year, had frequented it before Yukino's enrollment. It was her "secret base."
Though calling it that felt juvenile, and she'd outgrown such whimsy, she often lingered here, studying the odd mirror.
Since her first year, rumors tied her name to "Mai-senpai," making the Service Club a tranquil haven.
Soon after, her "invisibility" emerged, ensuring true solitude. Visiting became habit—she read, gazed at the mirror, and in winter, brewed tea.
Yukino couldn't see her, so Mai stood before the bronze-edged mirror, examining it.
"So that's hide and seek… I experienced it today. But the seven mysteries require lengthy investigation…"
Mai mused, studying her reflection.
She tended to the mirror, Yukino to her book—their usual dynamic, with Yukino oblivious to her.
But today, Yukino was off.
How? Her expression was unnatural, and she fidgeted, unlike her usual serene composure.
Was she succumbing to suggestion, secretly playing hide and seek? No.
Yukino's next actions were stranger. She barricaded the door with boxes and desks, drew the curtains, and turned the room into a dark chamber.
Muttering something, Yukino went unheard by Mai, who wasn't listening.
"What's Yukinoshita-san up to?"
Curious, Mai sat on the sofa's corner, just over a meter from Yukino.
In the dim curtain-filtered light, Mai glimpsed her actions.
"She's… stealing? No… this is…"
Mai squinted. Yukino clutched Kagura's bag strap, sniffing it fervently like an infatuated deviant.
"Wow… Yukinoshita, who shuns men, has such a hidden side?" Mai's scalp tingled, her brows arching. What followed stunned her.
Yukino unzipped the bag and pencil case, extracting a metal pen.
Seemingly regretful, she muttered about losing control, piquing Mai's curiosity about her next move.
Then…
Yukino kicked off her shoes, spread her legs, and propped her feet on the sofa, pressing the pen to her forbidden zone.
Mai covered her face, stammering, "What… what are you doing…" But Yukino couldn't hear or see her.
Mai could reveal herself, but…
Better not. The awkwardness would be unbearable.
If Mai were Yukino, she'd leap from the window—after donning underwear.
She'd rather flee Earth.
Yukino's faint whimpers, seductive in the dark, stirred Mai, arousing her own body.
Though neither was attracted to women, human bodies respond to sounds and ambiance.
Mai, who'd masturbated since age ten as a busy actress, recognized Yukino's leg-crossing. She did it sparingly, only under stress, as it left her drained.
Yukino's climax was adorably raw, like an unscripted, efficient self-pleasure performance, graceful as a dance.
When Yukino moved to the window for a second round, Mai covered her face, lamenting, "You're doing it again…"
Oblivious, Yukino reveled in her private ecstasy.
As Yukino switched to her fingers, Mai hid her face completely, uninterested in watching another woman's intimacy. She moved behind the sofa, listening to Yukino's faint gasps, her right hand slipping under her skirt, past her stockings, and into her underwear.
"I'm… wet too? Yukinoshita Yukino, you're trouble."
Mai had no intention of masturbating here. Glancing at the barricaded door, she realized leaving would require moving the obstacles.
But if someone was outside, opening it could expose Yukino.
As a fellow girl, Mai felt obliged to protect Yukino's dignity.
Yet, there was one issue…