Kaoru

She lets out a sharp, frustrated sigh, finally letting the paper fall to her side. Without a word, she moves to her lavish four-poster bed, the fabric of her casual pink button-down shirt shifting loosely against her skin. Her high-waisted, pleated skirt cuts right around her knees, and as she sits, the hem rides up, exposing a sliver of pale thigh above the dark edge of her thigh-high stockings. She sits down primly on the edge, crossing one leg over the other, her posture rigid with aristocratic pride.

"Sit. No, stay standing. It's fine. I can manage this lesson from here."

She clears her throat, unfolding the paper again, though her eyes dart nervously from the script to you and back.

"So. A-according to this list I've compiled, it says a proper lady must be skilled in three distinct areas: Fellatio, Paizuri, and—" (her voice catches for just a second before she forces the word out) "—Intercourse. All essential knowledge for a woman of my station. We'll start with the first."

She gestures impatiently for you to step closer, her cheeks flushed a deep crimson. She swallows thickly, her breathing shallow.

"Well? Don't just stand there, Nero. Take it out. That's the first step (Nero fumbles hesitantly with his trousers. She watches with clinical curiosity as he finally reveals himself. Her eyes widen as it grows thick and erect before her eyes. Her lips part slightly, a soft hitch in her breath betraying her composure as she sinks back onto the edge of the bed. Both hands plant flat on the mattress beside her hips, fingers curling into the silk sheets as her green eyes lock onto the sight before her.

"That… looks slightly different from the diagrams in the textbook. Hmph. It's… pinker than I anticipated. And the shape is rather more… pronounced."

She forces her gaze away, lifting her chin defiantly and adjusting her posture, though a tremor runs through her gloved fingers.

"Well? What are you waiting for? I told you to—"

{{user}} hesitates, pulling back slightly. Kaoru's eyes narrow instantly, her composure flickering with irritation.

"Hmph. What's this? Do you still oppose me? After everything I've already commanded of you?"

{{user}} steps forward, gently pressing the tip of his erection against her closed lips. {{char}}’s entire body goes rigid, a sharp inhale caught in her throat. Her eyes widen before narrowing into dangerous slits. Her hand shoots out, grabbing his wrist and twisting it at a harsh angle.

"Who gave Her voice drops to a dangerously clipped whisper, each word deliberate and cold. {{char}} blinks. The vindictive tension in her fingers falters. Her release is as sudden as her grasp was vicious, snatching her hand back like she'd been burned. Mortification floods her features as the logic of it dawns on her. She clears her throat loudly, brushing non-existent lint from her shoulder.

{{user}} winces, barely managing to speak through the pain.

"T-this is… fellatio, my lady. The mouth is the proper place for it. I was simply… positioning things correctly for the lesson."

+{{char}} blinks rapidly. Her grip slowly loosens. Her cheeks flare a brilliant crimson as she releases his wrist, clearing her throat loudly and smoothing down her skirt with trembling hands.*

"Oh. W-well, obviously. I… I knew that. I was merely testing your knowledge of proper protocol. To see if you'd dare to take initiative without my explicit…"

Her voice trails off entirely as she slowly lowers herself from the bed. The rustle of her skirt is deafening in the quiet room. She sinks onto her hands and knees directly before you, the plush carpet soft beneath her palms. Her pink-buttoned shirt hangs loose, a valley of shadow revealing the heavy curve of her chest. She leans forward with a deliberate slowness. Her tongue unfurls, pressing a long, experimental lap against the underside of his tip. She pulls back just enough to speak, a smirk dancing at the corner of her lips.

"Men are so simple… A single lick and you're already trembling. Honestly, it's almost pathetic how desperate you are."

*She opens her mouth, slowly taking the head inside her warm mouth. She exhales sharply through her nose, then begins She pauses just as her lips seal around the tip. She pulls her mouth away with a wet pop, letting him catch a brief glimpse of her haughty smirk before pressing forward once more.

"Not that you deserve such an honor from a lady of my stature…"

This time she takes him deeper, her bobbing motion becoming rhythmically confident as she discovers the power she suddenly holds, intoxicated by the way his breathing hitches above her.

She pushed herself up from the carpet, still catching her breath, the aftertaste of his cum lingering on her tongue. She wiped the corner of her mouth with the back of her gloved hand, a subtle, deliberate motion. Her green eyes, still hazy from the previous act, scanned the crumpled paper on the floor. She picked it up, scanning the elegant script until her finger landed on the next entry. She cleared her throat, trying to regain her aristocratic composure.

"Paizuri… Right. The next lesson. It says here I must use my—" She gestured vaguely at her own chest. "—assets to complete the act. Prepare yourself. And don't you dare keep me waiting."

{{user}} stepped forward without waiting for further instruction, his hands reaching for the buttons of her loose shirt. Before his fingers could even touch the fabric, Kaoru's hand snapped up, slapping his wrist away with a sharp crack. Her eyes were wide, burning with indignation.

"Did I give you permission to touch me?! You insolent—" She stopped mid-sentence, her mouth opening and closing as the realization trickled in. Her eyes darted to the paper, then to his hand, then to her own chest. A deep, mortified crimson flooded her cheeks. "Oh. You were… right. Obviously. I, Kaoru Okisada, am fully aware of the procedure. I was simply… testing2/2 Your gloved hands reach out, brushing hers aside with a firm but respectful touch. She stiffens, but this time she doesn't slap you away. You work the remaining buttons free with deliberate care, parting the fabric to reveal the full, heavy swell of her breasts. They spill out into the open air, and she lets out a sharp, involuntary gasp.

Without the shield of her shirt, she feels utterly exposed. Her nipples peak immediately in the cool room, and she crosses her arms instinctively, then forces them back down to her sides. She turns away, her voice trembling with forced dignity.

"There. Fine. You've seen them. They're just… body parts. Nothing special. Now let's proceed so I can check this off and we can both forget this ever happened."

She marches over to the ornate armchair by the window, dropping herself into it with a huff. The motion sends another visible tremor through her chest, and she catches your gaze lingering. Her face goes scarlet, her eyes narrowing into furious slits.

"W-What?! Don't look at me so dirtily! It's not like I grew these big just for you, you pervert!"

A low, appreciative sound escapes your throat as you watch her catch her breath. You remain silent, letting her compose herself, watching her read over the next lesson. She shifts in the chair, her legs crossing and uncrossing as she steadies herself.

Her hands move to her own chest, cupping the soft weight of her breasts. She squeezes them experimentally, then looks up at you defiantly. She guides them together, pressing them around your shaft, the warm flesh enveloping you completely.

"You only deserve this much. Remember your place."

She begins to move, her breasts sliding up and down along your length. The sensation is strange to her—warm, intimate, and oddly empowering. She builds a rhythm, slow at first, then more confident as she finds her pace. The tip of your cock peeks out at the top of each upward stroke, and she finds her gaze fixed on it. Without thinking, she leans forward, her tongue darting out to catch the tip as it emerges. The taste of her own previous work mixes with the musk of your skin. She does it again, then again, until she's sucking the tip with each pass, her rhythm faltering as she focuses on the new sensation in her mouth.

Suddenly, your hands shoot out, grabbing her by the roots of her twin tails. Before she can protest, you use the leverage to thrust upward into her waiting mouth. Her eyes go wide, a muffled gasp escaping her throat. She tries to pull back, but your grip holds her in place. Her hands fly up to your thighs, nails digging in as she struggles to accommodate the sudden intrusion. Her mind races: *'Why do I have to suck his dirty thing again “

She sits there, chest heaving, her entire face and neck painted white with your cum. Strings of it drip from her chin onto her breasts, pooling in the valley between them. Her green eyes are glassy, unfocused, her lips parted as she struggles to catch her breath.

For a long moment, she doesn't move. The only sound in the room is her ragged breathing. Then, slowly, she lifts a trembling hand to her face, wiping a thick smear from her cheek. She stares at it on her glove, then at you.

Her mouth opens, closes, opens again. No words come out. She looks down at herself—her breasts glistening, her shirt ruined, her dignity shattered. She should lash out. She should scream. She should have you dismissed and flogged.

Instead, she just sits there, blinking slowly, a single thought cutting through the haze in her mind. 'What… what was the next one on the list?'