The improper hand of my master, attempting to lift the hem of her dress.
I grabbed her hand.
“Why...”
She whimpered as if pleading.
Her pupils had fully morphed into the shape of a heart.
A deep sense of guilt surged from within me.
‘...Because of the heat.’
It had started with me.
Although the Bloodstone Cult may have had a hand in this, the fact that I had ultimately spread it to others was undeniable.
The way my master had ended up like this... no matter how you look at it, it was my fault.
She was warm, comforting, and yet firm when necessary. Rational yet emotional.
That’s why it was the first time I had seen her so utterly close to her instincts.
And it frightened me.
What would happen once she snapped out of this state of instinct?
What if she thought she had lost to her desire?
Would she feel sorry and decide to leave me?
That was the kind of person my master was.
I didn’t want to lose her.
And so, it was inevitable.
I grabbed my master’s hand more firmly, the hand that was trying to shake me off, the hand that was attempting to lift her dress.
“Ugh...”
She let out a faint sound as I suddenly exerted more force.
Looking up at me, her tear-filled eyes seemed so unlike her usual self.
My master appeared smaller somehow.
And weaker.
Her wrist was thinner than that of an average girl.
From her nape came a fragrance as luxurious as fine tea.
Her ears, flushed a pinkish hue, made me want to playfully nibble at them immediately.
I swallowed the saliva that had filled my mouth.
It wasn’t me who was aroused.
That’s why I needed to guide her right now.
Regain your composure.
I opened my mouth to console her as she whimpered while gripping the hem of her dress.
“Master, we still have plenty of days to meet ahead of us.”
“But...”
“There’s no need to rush.”
Maybe I was being cowardly.
Perhaps I was overly cautious.
But I was scared.
What if I embraced her now, only for her to leave later, overwhelmed by guilt?
So, I needed to focus solely on calming her current state.
I had to soothe her heightened instincts.
I needed to ensure her heart wasn’t hurt.
Minimal intimacy.
Of course, even that wasn’t exactly permissible between a teacher and a student.
Any form of physical contact, however minor, would likely be considered inappropriate within this relationship.
But.
If it’s us—
If it’s me and Asilia—
Maybe this much would be acceptable—
“I’ll satisfy you with just my mouth.”
“...With your mouth?”
“Yes.”
If it was just this much, even if she regained her senses, she might forgive me.
With that thought, I made the suggestion to her.
“...But, I finally ended up like this, disciple.”
She pulled back the hem of her dress, revealing her damp thighs.
I gently covered her dress back over her legs.
Then, more politely but also with a slightly firmer tone, I asked her.
“Master. Earlier, you said you were sorry to me, didn’t you?”
“...Yes. I’m sorry. For harboring such feelings for my disciple.”
As she clung to me as if pleading, I grasped her shoulders firmly and asked resolutely,
“If you’re sorry, then shouldn’t you listen to what I say?”
Perhaps startled by my firmness, my master, deflated, nodded her head.
“...I should.”
Seeing that, something in my chest blazed.
I wanted to pounce on her immediately.
I had poured out all the saliva I could muster into her mouth.
This should be enough to quell her heat.
Based on my own experience, it would take about an hour.
I exhaled, tension easing from my body.
That should be sufficient.
Or so I thought.
— Press.
A faint pressure pricked at my thumb.
It wasn’t quite pain, more like a persistent squeeze.
I looked down.
“Master...?”
My thumb, which I had extended to wipe her lips, was now caught between her teeth.
She was gently biting it, her lips wrapped around the digit, her gaze fixed on me.
— Crunch.
Asilia bit down on Ian’s thumb once more before opening her mouth.
“...I listened well, didn’t I?”
Her saliva, now sticky again, coated Ian’s hand.
“Reward me, Disciple.”
◆
Back when Asilia was teaching Ian swordsmanship, she had a cherished memory that often came to mind.
Sometimes, when instructing Ian, there were moments when she needed to be stern.
Ian was usually so mature, but during those times, he would occasionally act playful.
— If I do this well, will I get a reward?
When Ian would ask such things in jest, it was so endearing, like watching a child beg for attention.
It was a glimpse of another side of him—a stark contrast to his usual composed demeanor.
To Asilia, Ian was that kind of student.
But now, that very student had issued a firm command.
“Open your mouth, Master.”
He told her to open her mouth, stick out her tongue, and swallow his saliva.
And he had done so in his polite but resolute tone, leaving no room for objection.
— Thump. Thump. Thump.
Asilia’s heart pounded fiercely, as if it might burst.
For a master to obey her student’s command—
It was, of course, something that shouldn’t happen.
And yet—
‘...I think I might enjoy it.’
She thought she might feel good following her disciple’s orders.
That was the only reason.
That was why she obeyed.
Asilia opened her mouth.
When Ian frowned slightly, as though it wasn’t wide enough, she opened it even wider.
Even the simple act of opening her mouth made her entire body tremble with excitement.
Simply biting down on his thumb made her feel like she might melt.
And when she finally swallowed his saliva, her mind went blank, as though it had caught fire.
By the time she had fulfilled her disciple’s orders.
Her mind and body were entirely blank.
All she could do was wait, dazed, for her disciple’s praise.
Like a puppy waiting to be petted.
That was all she could do.
“You did well.”
But her disciple’s praise was brief.
All he did was wipe her lips with his thumb as he spoke.
Asilia felt a lump rise in her throat.
Whenever she praised Ian, she always made sure to give him a hug or do something to make him feel rewarded.
And yet Ian was trying to let it end with just this.
‘...That’s unfair.’
For the first time, she thought her disciple was being unfair.
She felt upset that he was trying to brush past it so lightly.
So Asilia bit down on his thumb.
To let him know she was sulking.
She pressed her lips firmly around it.
“Master?”
Ian tried to pull his thumb away.
But Asilia didn’t let go.
Instead, she sucked on it harder.
“Please praise me more.”