The tiny toy egg pressed against the highest point of her left breast through the fabric of her blouse, sending a strange, prickling current radiating outward. Egawa Mitsuki clenched her teeth and bore it in silence, refusing to let her expression crack in front of Yūto Shō.
But as the minutes dragged on, her left breast grew unbearably itchy, swollen, heavy — a kind of throbbing fullness she couldn't ignore — and she pressed her thighs together without thinking.
Yūto Shō caught the small motion and spoke with deliberate suggestion. "You do know this toy isn't actually meant to be used here, right? Guess where it's supposed to go."
…
After speaking, Yūto Shō plucked the toy egg off her chest and watched her with the lazy curiosity of a cat eyeing a cornered mouse.
A flicker of disappointment crossed Egawa Mitsuki's eyes, but the second his meaning sank in, she went rigid and tried to shrink away. Stuck in the back seat of the car, though, there was nowhere to hide — like trying to dodge a Death Note in a locked room.
Yūto Shō smiled. "Looks like you understand exactly what I mean. Here's the deal — I'll give you two choices. Option one, you demonstrate it for me. Option two, I demonstrate it on you, personally."
"Route One: Have the girl demonstrate how to use the toy egg. She has to come at least once before she's allowed to stop."
"Route Two: Personally place the toy egg in the correct position on the girl, making sure she comes at least once before stopping."
On a whim, he'd picked up the toy egg, and to his surprise the system had actually triggered this quest. Both branches were perfectly acceptable to Yūto Shō, but in the end he leaned toward letting her choose — somehow, forcing a girl to get herself off in front of him felt like the more delicious flavor of cruel.
Egawa Mitsuki trembled with rage at the perverse offer and spat, "Pervert!"
She absolutely refused to pick.
Yūto Shō smiled wider. "Looks like you want me to help you out. Come on then — spread your legs."
As he spoke, Yūto Shō reached toward her thigh.
…
A chill shot up Egawa Mitsuki's spine and she blurted in a panic, "I never said I picked the second one!"
"If you didn't pick two, then you picked one?" Yūto Shō tilted his head at her, amused.
Egawa Mitsuki's expression flickered like a glitching screen. She realized that, trapped between the two options, Yūto Shō had no intention of letting her wriggle free — but the second route was simply not happening.
Her mind dragged her back to the principal's office, to the way Yūto Shō had bullied her there. Shame and fury coiled tight in her chest. She would rather bite her tongue off than go through that a second time.
She drew a deep breath and asked, "Can you promise you won't touch me?"
Yūto Shō thought to himself, how are these girls all this naïve? After the lesson last time, she still believes a promise from me means anything? Like a Saturday-morning hero swearing on his honor and then breaking it the second the credits rolled.
Still, Yūto Shō agreed readily. "Of course. I'll just watch. I won't lay a finger on you."
The teasing lilt in his voice made Egawa Mitsuki's lips tremble with helpless fury.
…
"Alright. Begin your performance."
Yūto Shō tossed the toy egg into her lap. Egawa Mitsuki caught it on instinct, feeling the steady buzz hum through her palm. Her pretty face flushed a vivid, peachy pink in seconds, soft and delicate as a sakura petal caught mid-fall.
If she had to demonstrate this thing properly, that meant putting it into…
The very thought made Egawa Mitsuki's stomach twist. But if she didn't do it herself, Yūto Shō would absolutely do it for her, and he was holding far too much over her head for her to fight back.
After a long, agonized pause, knowing she was cornered like the last Pokémon in a losing battle, Egawa Mitsuki gritted her teeth and, with the reckless courage of someone choosing to leap, shoved the toy egg between her legs.
"Lift your foot up onto the seat. I can't see from here."
Yūto Shō's blunt order rang out. The girl, who had just barely scraped together the nerve to begin, froze stiff, her face darkening. Cheeks burning, she turned and rearranged herself into a sideways perch on the seat.
Yūto Shō watched her with the appreciative gaze of a collector evaluating a rare figurine.
Egawa Mitsuki's cheeks burned hot. The shame was so thick she had to squeeze her eyes shut, but her hand hovered frozen midair, unable to descend. Just imagining Yūto Shō's gaze fixed on her — that hungry, leering look — made it impossible for her to slip her hand back under her skirt.
…
After another shaky beat, she bit down on her lower lip, screwed her eyes shut, and with trembling fingers carried the vibrating thing as if it weighed as much as Mjolnir, slowly guiding it back between her thighs.
"Spread your legs," Yūto Shō said again.
Egawa Mitsuki's face drained pale, then flooded scarlet. Her eyes flew open, shot him a shy, furious glare, and then slowly — slowly — her knees parted, revealing the shadowed space beneath her skirt. The safety shorts she wore underneath softened the worst of the humiliation. Still, a sudden, awful thought struck her: if she kept stalling like this, what if Yūto Shō decided the demonstration needed her skirt and safety shorts off entirely?
The possibility made her heart lurch. She didn't dare drag it out a second longer. She even hiked the hem of her overlong skirt up a little, then clenched her teeth and pressed the source of the vibration firmly between her legs.
Bzzz~~
Immediately, Egawa Mitsuki felt as if a current had ripped through her entire body. Her slender frame jolted uncontrollably, and a wave of sensation she had no name for surged outward from the point of contact, racing through every nerve. The thin fabric of her safety shorts did nothing — nothing — to muffle the buzzing intensity.
She could feel her face flushing scarlet, burning, her eyes prickling with sudden tears, her lips parting on a small, helpless gasp she couldn't swallow back.
Her expression had to be a complete disaster. The mere thought of Yūto Shō watching her in this state broke something inside Egawa Mitsuki. She shook her head back and forth like a dorayaki-shaped daruma rolling on its base, voice cracking with held-back tears: "Don't look at me, don't, please… please…"
Yūto Shō cut in cruelly, "Your expression is incredibly seductive right now. I'm feeling it. Hard."
The words seemed to short-circuit her completely. Her body twitched, then sagged limp against the leather seat.
Her legs were still parted, but the hand beneath her skirt shook uncontrollably, as if her fingers had forgotten how to grip at all.
Yūto Shō stared, his pupils blown, watching the pale fabric of her safety shorts darken in patches, something seeping through. His heart hammered, his mouth went dry as old printer paper, and his voice scraped low. "Don't pull your hand away. Or I'll come over and help."
Half-dazed, drifting somewhere between consciousness and oblivion, she heard the threat and registered the consequences. Her chest tightened with panic, and she instinctively steadied her trembling hand, pressing the toy egg firmly against the soaked fabric.
Then her mind whited out completely, like a TV flipping to static.
Yūto Shō saw her go limp and only then jolted back into himself. His own body, drained earlier that morning, was now burning again, heavy and impatient. But this was a public parking lot, and Egawa Mitsuki's driver was nearly back — there was no time for an arc, only a quick scene change.
Yūto Shō crushed down his restlessness, pulled out a sexual desire marker, lifted the hem of her blouse, and pushed the bunched fabric all the way up to her collarbone.
A pair of plump, soft breasts spilled free, jiggling with each shallow rise and fall of her breath like something straight out of an ecchi-tier reveal cut.
Yūto Shō took a moment to admire the view, then uncapped the pen and signed his name across her left breast in slow, deliberate strokes.
…
Hazily, Egawa Mitsuki felt the cool air on her chest. She forced her eyelids apart and realized her clothes had been pushed up, and Yūto Shō was bent over her, writing something on her skin.
The shame nearly cracked her chest open. She wanted to shove him off, but her arms hung weak and useless as wet noodles, and she could only watch in horror as he finished signing his name across her breast in clean, possessive ink.
By the time he straightened, Yūto Shō was sweating lightly at his temples. Faced with a defenseless beauty he couldn't actually devour — it was torture, plain and simple, the kind of cliffhanger that would make any shounen protagonist tear his hair out.
Still, no matter how uncomfortably wound up he was, he didn't dare push his luck here. Egawa Mitsuki's phone screen had just lit up — a WeChat notification surfacing on the lock screen: "Mitsuki-Chan, I've arranged for the car to deliver the rice. Heading over to pick you up now."
…
As he reached for the door handle, Yūto Shō felt a small pang of unwillingness. He picked up the box of condoms she'd bought earlier and tossed it onto the pale swell of her chest, watching it bounce once before settling.
Yūto Shō bent down and pressed a hard kiss to Egawa Mitsuki's lips, then murmured against them, sharp as a drawn blade, "From now on, I can have you anytime I want. Carry condoms with you. Otherwise, don't blame me when you turn up pregnant."
After that, Yūto Shō pushed open the car door and slid out into the dim parking lot, the door thudding shut behind him.
Egawa Mitsuki's face stayed blank for one long, drifting heartbeat — then bloomed crimson, vivid as peach blossoms catching the first light.