As Kagura's climax ebbed, Hayasaka, mouth full of his thick, white essence, lowered her head again. Blending saliva and semen, she enveloped his still-oozing, less vigorous tip, sucking hard. The stimulation jolted his calming shaft back to life, erupting anew, filling her warm, wet mouth.
After a while, Hayasaka lifted her head, half-covering her lips, swallowing the dense, scalding load in three gulps. Its viscous texture clung to her throat, prompting her to withdraw her saliva-soaked feet from Kagura's licking, wipe her hands, pour half a glass of red wine, and drink, flushing the sticky residue from her throat and esophagus.
"Cough, cough…"
Draining the wine, Hayasaka had no intention of cleaning his shaft orally. Maintaining her poker face, she turned to Kagura, cradling his panting face. "Lord Kagura, you climaxed so joyfully with that plastic toy. Perhaps you should handle it solo from now on? You'd likely relish it alone."
"Are you trying to kill me?!"
Kagura's face flushed, protesting loudly.
"Shh…" Hayasaka pressed a finger to his lips, murmuring, "One more thing. How's your progress with that Yukino girl?"
"Oh…" Kagura exhaled, grinning mischievously. "She let me sleep with her once, believe—ow, ow, ow!"
Before he could finish, Hayasaka gripped the onahole still encasing his shaft's lower half, squeezing as if to snap his lineage, mercilessly, with a hint of vengeful retribution.
"You may answer again," she said, squinting darkly, whispering in his ear. "Lying to your personal maid is poor form. I never taught you that, did I? Next time, I'll squeeze your balls just as hard."
Given their mutual trust, aside from Hayasaka's playful hard-to-get act, they were utterly candid.
"You'll kill me one day…"
"If you perish atop me, that'd be troublesome. Please channel your excess vigor toward your future wife. So, the truth?"
"I secured a long-term commission with her. She invited me to join her Service Club. Progress, I'd say."
Kagura spoke plainly.
"I see. Congratulations, then."
Sensing his honesty, Hayasaka eased her grip, slowly removing the onahole with such care it seemed she feared granting him extra pleasure.
Glancing at her saliva-drenched foot stockings, she flexed her toes, the fabric stretching and twisting. Touching them, she said, "These stockings are done for tonight."
"What? Such a waste! Quick, give me your feet."
"Stockings licked once are like used condoms. Even if I indulge your filthy fetish, hygiene and safety forbid reuse. I must decline."
Hayasaka leaned back, draping her legs across Kagura's stomach, hands lifting her skirt, unhooking the garter, and reclining further. She grasped the lacy edge of her left black stocking, sliding it off with a flourish.
The pale leg revealed was like a scroll unfurling before Kagura, captivating him.
Hayasaka, confident in her allure, knew this act's effect. With a sultry tilt of her head, exposing her graceful neck, she smirked. "Lord Kagura, you truly adore my legs… pervert…"
"Hiss—"
Her gaze and the act of peeling off her stockings were pure ecstasy. The motion alone could fuel three extra bowls of rice. Licking her freshly bared toes would be divine.
She repeated the process with her right stocking, not rushing to don new ones. Wiping her feet with a disinfectant wipe, she ignored Kagura's persistent, erect pleas, leaving him anxious.
Once done, she slipped on new garter stockings, nearly identical save for slight lace variations, too dim for Kagura to discern.
Noticing his gaze glued to her legs, Hayasaka chuckled inwardly, turning her feet toward him. Propping herself up, she pressed her skirt's center to hide her panties, lifting her right leg straight, teasing it near his lips like bait.
"Slurp, slurp~~"
Kagura strained to lick, but each time he rose, she raised her foot just out of reach, leaving his tongue tantalizingly short. After several tries, he glared, fuming.
This maid knew how to tease, and she was stingy—hiding her panties?
"Want to see?"
Hayasaka, duck-sitting to his right, slowly parted her knees.
Gulp…
Kagura swallowed.
He did want to see. Even on her period, a girl's panties retained their allure, guarding that soft, coveted spot.
"No can do~ You've ogled freely before, but not today." She wagged her finger, winking mischievously.
Kagura's mind raced with a stampede of imaginary alpacas.
"But…" Hayasaka shifted, side-lying, extending her left foot. "Want to lick?"
"Yes…"
"Then loudly admit, 'I'm a depraved scumbag lord who loves licking and sniffing my maid's stockinged legs.'"
Her finger toyed with his swollen tip, rocking it like a bobblehead.
"Must I say it?"
Kagura's resentment simmered. The words were humiliating yet hit the mark.
"Oh? You don't have to. My feet aren't erogenous. Your licking only disgusts and itches me."
"Damn it!" Cornered, Kagura shouted, "I'm a depraved, lustful scumbag who loves licking and sniffing my maid's stockinged legs, feet, and diving under her skirt to lick her slit!"
"Oh my, you added a flourish~ Here's your reward." Hayasaka poured herself half a glass of wine, stood gracefully, stepped forward, lifted her skirt higher, and extended her right foot to his face.
Kagura's eyes shot from her sole to her skirt's depths.
Her panties… damn, she wasn't wearing any?!
Only a tampon string peeked from her slit, barely revealing the seam. She shifted, obscuring the view.
Still, the voyeuristic thrill of glimpsing her slit sent his heart racing, his softening shaft surging anew.
"Oh? Excited by a period slit? How perverse are you?"
Before he could retort, she slipped her right toes into his mouth as he opened it.
Kagura savored it, forgetting her earlier teasing. The stocking's fine mesh grazed his tongue, her warm, soft foot massaging it.
He wrapped his tongue around her toes; she pinched his tongue with them, blushing at her shameless pose.
But she wasn't done. Holding her wine glass, she tilted it near her right calf, letting wine soak the stocking, staining the white silk with blood-like streaks. Droplets raced down her smooth foot to her toes, where Kagura's lips caught them, swallowing the wine-saliva mix, eagerly sucking her delectable toes.
"Pervert… utterly perverse… What would your future fiancée think, seeing you like this? She'd faint from embarrassment." Hayasaka emptied the wine, lifted her skirt for another glimpse, then sneered, "Lord Kagura, you lascivious worm should just perish. Also, stop thrusting at the air while licking my feet. It's pathetic…"
Moments later, she withdrew her foot, sitting sideways at his waist, legs near his face but out of reach.
"Now what? Unlock me already!"
He'd climaxed once in ages, and each time his arousal dipped, Hayasaka reignited it without true release, maddening him.
"Worry not. The main act begins now."
She grabbed the stockings she'd removed, picking the less-licked one, compressing it until it resembled a short sock.
Note: Stockings are worn like this—bunched like a short sock, feet slipped in, then pulled up.
"This sounds ominous…"
"When you, at ten, first said you wanted to lick my slit, I panicked too. But you pinned me in the bathroom and had your way."
"You remember that vividly?"
"Of course, because…"
Hayasaka trailed off, thinking: It's a precious memory.
She wiped the semen-stained onahole, flattened the stocking, poked her index finger through it from opening to toe, then threaded it through the onahole's channel, from the vaginal mimic to near the exit. Switching to her middle finger, she pulled the stocking partially out.
Pausing, she flipped the stocking's opening outward, encasing the onahole from bottom to top.
She flipped out all possible fabric, trimmed excess with scissors, and tied the flipped and pulled sections tightly.
The transparent onahole now looked like a sinister black component, a deep, eerie void, unnerving Kagura.
Hayasaka nonchalantly squeezed lubricant onto her hand, gripping his eager shaft, thoroughly coating it from tip to base to keep him erect.
She inserted the lubricant's nozzle into the "black hole" at the onahole's base, squeezing generously, soaking the stocking inside.
Kagura gulped audibly.
As Hayasaka brought the "black component" to his shaft, he realized her intent.
Too late to beg, she fixated on his face, ignoring his shaft, eager for his reaction.
She pressed his tip against the entrance, rotating it, grinding gently.
The sour, slightly painful, yet blissful sensation made Kagura writhe like a maggot, his face contorting. Hayasaka mused silently: This good? Better than my slit?
She slowly pressed the modified onahole down, engulfing his shaft.
Kagura felt his shaft—or rather, his unspent semen—being sucked out. His tip screamed it couldn't hold, though the pleasure hadn't peaked. Eyes wide, gasping, he urged it to "stay calm."
"Hmph… men."
Hayasaka spat disdainfully on the stockinged shaft, slamming the modified onahole to his base.
Kagura's body shuddered, chains rattling, face twitching, consciousness nearly fleeing.
"What a vulgar, useless thing," she said softly, stroking the stockinged onahole. "Lord Kagura, snipping it off wouldn't matter, would it?"
"Hiss… ah…"
Kagura fought not to climax instantly. He hadn't expected an onahole to feel this good. Hayasaka's earlier strokes were pleasant, but the stocking added a new dimension—his shaft grazed the lubricated stocking's particles and folds, tensing his body. He barely heard her.
"So, a slave to pleasure? Pathetic Lord Kagura…" Seeing this, Hayasaka rapidly pumped the onahole.
In under five minutes, unable to endure, Kagura shamefully ejaculated within the stocking that once clad Hayasaka's feet.
Hayasaka pressed the onahole to his base, paused, then slowly pulled up, gripping tightly and pressing down again. His tip protruded from the onahole's exit, still encased in the stocking, semen seeping through, whitening the dark silk. It stained her pure white mesh glove, luridly erotic.
"Ah… ah…"
Kagura collapsed, panting, veins in his neck bulging, muscles taut, then slack, all focus on his shaft.
The stocking contained his second, larger load, preventing a mess.
"Seems this satisfies you more than I do. Use it from now on—no need for me~"
Hayasaka removed the onahole, the fresh stimulation making post-climax Kagura gasp, unable to respond.
She shook her head, tsking, tossing the used onahole aside.
Removing her left glove, holding it, she slapped his face several times with her cleaner left hand. "Lord Kagura, snap out of it. Shift your focus from your glans to your head."
"You jerk… you're really trying to kill me…"
Kagura, drenched in sweat, muttered weakly.
"I didn't expect it to be that effective. If I offended you, I… what, you think I'd apologize?"
Hayasaka shrugged, moving between his spread legs.
Kagura shot her a glare.
"Unlock me! You're still playing?"
"Mind your words. This isn't play—I'm relieving your lust despite my fatigue."
"…I feel like you've wrecked my dick."
Kagura grumbled, and Hayasaka, facing him, sat between his legs.
Lifting her skirt, she boldly displayed her smooth, hairless slit. Just climaxing, Kagura's desire reignited, his shaft shamefully hardening.
"Though I can't please you here, you've been anticipating this, haven't you?"
Maintaining her exposed slit, legs spread, she placed her feet on his groin, teasing his semen-coated shaft with her white-silk toes.
"…Damn, Hayasaka, you're incredible."
"Please, no praise now…"
Hayasaka covered her face, embarrassed.
Kagura coughed, focusing on her slit.
Hayasaka had cleaned meticulously. Using a tampon, with light first-day flow, no blood leaked. It looked as inviting as her usual delectable slit.
Kagura had no interest in period sex—looking sufficed.
Her right foot pressed and rubbed his shaft, eliciting soft moans. She scolded, "Quiet… you're dirtying my feet."
"Your feet are in my semen, and that's not dirty?!"
"Well… that's different, cough—"
Hayasaka coughed, masking embarrassment, clamping his shaft between her feet's "foot-hole," squeezing more lubricant onto his tip, letting it soak his shaft and her feet.
"Look, the esteemed Marlborough Duke's heir, Earl Branford, Lord Sawamura Spencer Kagura, reduced to a maid's stockinged feet gripping his erect shaft, practically thrusting into them. Have you no noble dignity?"
(Branford is an honorary title for the Marlborough heir, a nominal earldom. Kagura, the heir, is technically an earl, inheriting the dukedom upon his father's death.)
"Noble dignity…?"
Straining to see her slit, Kagura caught her rubbing her engorged clit with her semen-wetted right index finger, circling it. His excitement spiked, mouth dry, forgetting her words.
Hayasaka, a vibrant young woman, wasn't immune to arousal after toying with his shaft. Period sex was off-limits, but clitoral masturbation was feasible, and Kagura loved watching. Why not?
Pleasuring him with her feet, she indulged herself, satisfying his voyeuristic kink.
"Indeed… noble dignity."
Fast-tracked by pleasure, her voice trembled.
"Just play. Centuries ago, bored nobles with only women for entertainment did worse. Don't lecture me on dignity."
Some played with nuns or choir castrati.
Around his family's dukedom era, Philippe I, brother to Louis XIV, cross-dressed in court, seducing men and servicing them, a history Kagura couldn't unsee.
Hayasaka, silent, twitched, thinking: Damn Lord Kagura, give me back my noble fantasies!
Foot-stroking was tiring. Hayasaka's legs ached, wanting to stop, but Kagura showed no climax signs. Comfortable, yes, but the prior stockinged onahole raised his threshold, delaying release.
"What's wrong, Hayasaka? Binding me, and this is your limit?"
Seeing her fatigue, Kagura seized the taunting upper hand, though craning to see her slit wasn't easy.
She'd deliberately withheld a pillow to make him strain.
"Lord Kagura, you jest. Did I say I'm tired?"
Hayasaka, defiant, maintained her calm facade, rubbing her clit, focusing her feet on his tip with wider, forceful strokes.
After fifteen minutes, Kagura moaned, trembling, but Hayasaka couldn't make him climax. Nearing exhaustion, she frantically teased her bright clit, licking her right index and middle fingers, pinching the glossy bud, stroking it and her seam.
Yet, due to Kagura's imprinted lust tattoo, she couldn't climax freely.
Seeing her struggle, Kagura took pity. Watching her fervently masturbate, left hand kneading her breast, he neared his peak. "Go, climax, Hayasaka. I love you!"
Her body froze, feet jerking up, stockings grazing his coronal groove. She collapsed backward, thighs quivering, clear liquid spurting from her slit onto his near-climax shaft. Her slit pulsed, inner walls surging.
Kagura, unable to hold back, shot thick semen skyward, splattering her lifted maid skirt and the lurid pink seam between her legs, coating it white.
Hayasaka's strongest squirt hit his face, drenching his chest. Her slit spasmed, weak spurts falling short, triggering thigh tremors and soft moans, a captivating sight.
Thanks to the [ClearSpring] item, her squirt rivaled pristine drinking water, odorless save for a faint osmanthus perfume note.
Hayasaka covered her face, feeling his forceful ejaculation, her slit scalded by his semen, her own repeated squirts. Too embarrassed to rise, her waist and legs were jelly.
They lay, legs spread, privates facing, resting until recovered.
"Hope your period ends soon. Stockings are great, but feet and silk alone aren't enough…"
As Hayasaka quietly wiped his sweat-soaked body, Kagura murmured, lying back.
Her face, red as an inkwell, glistened with tear-streaked eyes, yet she dutifully cleaned him, a devoted maid.
Just sharp-tongued and merciless.
"Men, no matter how satisfied, crave shooting deep inside a girl's slit…"
"Shut up, perverse master."
Hayasaka pinned his shoulders, scolding through near-tears.
"You squirt on my face and call me perverse? You're—mmph!"
Hayasaka silenced him with a kiss, hugging his face.
Fine, as her master, he'd let her save face.
After kissing, he said, "Unlock me so I can sleep."
But Hayasaka's sinister glance made his heart sink. Trouble.
The fourth time, she used her white mesh glove to jerk him off, but uniquely, at his climax's peak, she capped his shaft with the removed left glove, letting him fill it. Carefully lifting it, she slipped it back on, her delicate hand encased in semen.
Imagining her soft hand swathed in his essence, Kagura's shaft hardened again.
The thought alone was arousing.
Then, she used the modified stockinged onahole to drain him six more times.
Kagura endured without check-ins or stamina potions. When sensation dulled, Hayasaka poured wine on him, licked his nipples frantically, roamed his body, or orally teased his shaft to reignite him.
His "sustained heavy ejaculation" ability kept him gushing, coating Hayasaka in his white essence.
This lasted until 4 a.m. Hayasaka, still alert, freed the near-fainting Kagura and cleaned the room thoroughly.
At 7 a.m., unusually, she didn't wake him with a morning bite, gently nudging him instead.
"Hm…?"
Exhausted, Kagura mumbled groggily.
He felt half-dead.
"Lord Kagura, time to rise and wash."
"…" Squinting one eye, indignant, he asked, "I slept… yawn… three hours. You didn't sleep a minute. Why am I sleepier?"
"On that," Hayasaka mimed a tampon insertion, explaining flatly, "Excessive male ejaculation in a short time deeply fatigues. Especially with your volume. Not being tired would be odd."
"You really want me dead…"
Kagura collapsed, ready to sleep.
Hayasaka leaned to his ear, hand roaming his chest, whispering seductively, "You hold grudges. Rest well these days, or you won't have the vigor to flood my cervix with semen for revenge post-period."
"Hmph…"
With his last shred of sanity, he summoned, "System, check-in."
"Check-in complete. Your stamina and energy are fully restored."
Instantly reborn, his heavy fatigue vanished, his morning erection, dulled by Hayasaka's draining, surging upright.
"Oh? Reacting to my words? Men are so slit-obsessed."
"Obviously."
Grumbling, hugging his pillow, Kagura was dragged up by Hayasaka. He considered having her kneel for a furious session, but seeing her groomed, sleepless, and tidying all night, he took pity. He washed briskly, changed, and headed to the dining room.
Soon, he arrived at school, striding energetically into Class 2-F.
Hikigaya, yawning behind him near the back door, jolted as Kagura slapped his left shoulder. "Yo, morning!"
"Cough, cough!—" Hikigaya nearly stood, startled, but relaxed seeing Kagura, deadpanning, "Oh, morning."
Kagura eyed him, tossing his bag on his desk, sitting. "What's up? You look wrecked. Up late?"
"You…" Hikigaya propped his cheek lazily. "Even on day one, they pile on homework. A high school guy not fully out of spring break mode, delaying assignments till midnight, isn't that normal?"
"Makes sense."
Kagura nodded, chin pinched.
"What about you? A model student like you wouldn't skip homework."
"Model student?" Kagura choked, then slapped his thigh, laughing. "Hachiman, you don't know my grades, do you?"
"Uh… no…"
Hikigaya perked up, thinking: Are they bad?
"Last semester's finals, my highest score was music…"
"Perfect score?"
"Nope, ten points above passing."
"…What?"
Hikigaya snorted, laughing.
A world-class pianist-composer scoring just above passing in high school music? A joke!
"Scores don't matter to me," Kagura waved off. "Lowest was Health and P.E., 0.5 above passing. All my subjects barely pass."
Like Hayasaka, but she intentionally tanks; Kagura only excels in music.
This life gifted him monstrous musical talent but mediocre academic prowess.
"Unbelievable," Hikigaya squinted, elbow on desk, pointing. "You know you're every Chiba parent's 'other people's kid'?"
"Guessed as much," Kagura said, winking cheekily.
"Even my parents said your grades must be stellar, if not perfect, at least excellent. My sister used you to motivate me. Didn't expect your grades to be… tch—" Hikigaya's mouth twisted, scoffing.
"What, my bad grades make you look down on me?"
"Idiot, don't be dumb," Hikigaya rolled his eyes. "Just bitter at being duped by the world so long, tch…"
"…Hahaha!"
Kagura slapped the desk, laughing uproariously.
Japan's schools often share grades only with students, citing personal autonomy. Unless students disclose, even parents stay clueless.
Kagura never discussed his grades, so others assumed excellence due to his idol status. Reality differed.
"Here's something to make you even saltier."
"Hm?"
"I never do homework."
Kagura pointed to his unopened bag.
"…" Hikigaya froze, pointing at his desk. "Turn around."
Damn, what an enviable guy. Fooled me all this time?
Kagura, oblivious to Hikigaya's thoughts, noticed someone in the front seat, previously empty. Scratching his cheek, he recalled the bob-haired girl's name—something "Megumi"? He forgot what Kirisu-sensei called her yesterday.
Sensing his gaze on her nape, she turned slightly, saying flatly, "Good morning, Sawamura-san."
Her voice, unremarkable and even-toned, was oddly soothing, comfortably approachable.
"Oh… morning."
Forgetting her surname, Kagura skipped names, just greeting.
She turned further, facing him sideways, glancing up. "I overheard your grades talk. Sorry."
"No biggie. Call me a slacker, I won't care~" Kagura shrugged breezily.
He only valued the opinions of those close to him. Others? Let them talk.
Even now, some criticize his compositions like Maid's Skirt, Irish Lover, or Summer as bland. Would Kagura bother with every idle troll?