“Ugh… Haaah…”
The tangled tongue in my mouth persistently tormented me, refusing to let go.
There wasn’t even a gap between our tightly pressed lips, so I desperately tried to catch my breath whenever an opportunity arose.
My master’s actions, exploring my mouth, were rough.
Whether I breathed or not, or if saliva flowed down my chin, he simply focused on completely dominating my mouth.
But even in that seemingly violent kiss, I sometimes felt him being considerate.
When I clutched his lapels tightly, for a very brief moment, he would pull his lips away so I could breathe.
Then, as I gasped for air like a fish taking its first breath, I felt a strange sense of relief mixed with an intoxicating desire for more.
The sheer intensity of his presence was overwhelming, yet I found myself craving it, yearning for the next contact, the next shared breath.
As the time our mouths were connected grew longer, I gradually became accustomed to his breath exploring me.
It was a bizarre transformation, from a hesitant submission to an almost willing embrace of the intrusion.
My initial discomfort had slowly morphed into a strange fascination, a primal response to his dominance.
Each gentle exploration, each forceful press, felt like a revelation, uncovering new sensations within me.
When my master gently bit and pulled my tongue, I obediently opened my mouth and moved my lips.
There was no conscious thought, only an instinctual compliance, a silent acknowledgment of his control.
Even when the tip of his tongue tickled the roof of my mouth, I trembled and happily accepted it.
A shiver ran down my spine, a delicious sensation that I hadn’t known I craved.
It was a strange dance of power and surrender, a dizzying waltz that left me breathless and wanting more.
Was this how it was after kissing my master a few times?
I seemed to be gradually adapting to his way, without even realizing it.
The boundaries I once held had begun to blur, dissolving into a comfortable familiarity.
It was as if a part of me had always known this, had always been waiting for this kind of intense connection, this absolute surrender.
The thought was both unsettling and exhilarating, a potent mix of fear and desire.
It felt good.
Very…
The word lingered in my mind, a soft hum of satisfaction.
It was a feeling that transcended mere pleasure, a deeper connection that resonated within my very core.
The world outside our embrace seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of us, entangled in a moment of pure, unadulterated sensation.
Mwah.
With a wet sound, our lips parted.
Not completely, just slightly.
The brief separation felt like an unbearable loss, a sudden void where intense sensation had just been.
My lips, still tingling from his touch, longed for the return of his warmth, his taste.
“Didi, stick out your tongue.”
I slightly opened my eyes and parted my lips.
Through my narrowly opened vision, I saw my master’s face approaching again.
His eyes, usually so stern, held a predatory glint that sent a thrill through me.
As soon as I peeked out my tongue, my master swallowed it whole as if devouring it.
It was a gesture of complete possession, a reaffirmation of his control, and I found myself leaning into it, wanting to be consumed.
Wet tongues intertwined, and a watery sound echoed in the quiet office.
A completely different sound flowed between our touching lips than when I had kissed him.
The squelching noise of wet tongues rubbing together.
The sound was so stimulating that my ears felt like they were melting, each wet slurp a direct assault on my senses, igniting a fiery passion within me.
It was raw, primal, and utterly captivating.
As if my kisses were just child’s play, my master mixed his tongue with mine, sticky and wet.
His movements were deliberate, confident, a stark contrast to my own tentative explorations.
He wasn’t just kissing me; he was claiming me, marking me as his own.
The sheer force of his presence was overwhelming, yet I found myself wanting more, craving the depths of his passion.
“Haaah…”
My body grew hot.
A deep, consuming heat spread through my veins, making every nerve ending tingle with anticipation.
My balance kept shifting, and I wanted to get even closer to my master, to melt into him, to become one with his burning embrace.
The intensity of the moment was almost unbearable, yet I clung to it, unwilling to let go.
My insides were burning, and even my lower belly felt hot.
It was a deep, aching warmth that spread outwards, making me acutely aware of my own body, of its desperate yearning.
I constantly yearned for my master’s large hands, tightly embracing me, to touch my body, to explore every curve and hollow.
The unspoken plea was clear, a silent scream of desire that echoed in the quiet room.
As I clung to him pleadingly, my master twisted his head and kissed me even deeper.
It was a profound kiss, a melding of souls as much as bodies.
His tongue delved deeper, seeking out every sensitive spot, drawing moans from my throat that I hadn’t known I possessed.
I was lost in the sensation, a willing captive in his intoxicating embrace.
I deeply accepted my master’s tongue and twisted my hips on his lap.
My movements were instinctual, a response to the burning desire that consumed me.
Now, my buttocks twitched from the effort.
Remembering the act we shared yesterday, my hips involuntarily swayed, a silent testament to the lingering pleasure, the indelible mark he had left on me.
The memory ignited a fresh wave of longing, a desperate need for more.
I rubbed my body against my master for a long time. It was a silent plea, a desperate attempt to bridge the small distance between us, to become inextricably linked.
And I did it while hugging the neck of my master, who was kissing me…
My hands gripped his lapels, crumpling the fabric, as if holding onto him was the only thing keeping me grounded.
“Ah…”
Our lips slowly parted.
The sudden absence of his touch was startling, leaving a void that ached with an unfamiliar emptiness.
My now empty lips felt unfamiliar, and I unconsciously chewed on them a few times, trying to recapture the lingering taste of him.
It was a futile attempt, a desperate clinging to a fading sensation.
I looked at my master’s receding face with a look of regret, then suddenly came to my senses and quickly pulled my body back.
The sudden realization of my actions hit me like a splash of cold water, shattering the intoxicating haze that had enveloped me.
‘W-what did I just do?’
I had only just kissed him, but I’d lost my mind and clung to my master.
The embarrassment washed over me, a hot flush spreading across my face.
I sprang up from the chair and put a considerable distance between us, as if the physical space could somehow erase the intensity of our previous encounter.
I gasped for breath, wiping my wet mouth with the back of my hand.
My breath was ragged and my heart pounded as if I had run dozens of meters, each beat a loud, drumming reminder of what had just transpired.
Looking down, I was a mess.
My clothes were clearly on, but my pants had slipped down and were barely clinging to my hips because I kept thrusting, and my top was rolled up to just below my chest.
The evidence of my uncontrolled passion was undeniable, a testament to how completely I had lost myself in his embrace.
My master’s state wasn’t much different.
His stiff suit was heavily wrinkled and disheveled because I had kept grabbing his lapels and crumpling it with my hands.
A faint smile played on his lips, a silent acknowledgment of the chaos we had created.
I hastily pulled my top down, trying to cover the tell-tale signs of my arousal.
I didn’t want him to find out that I’d gotten an erection while kissing him.
The thought brought a fresh wave of mortification.
Fortunately, my master had a quite satisfied expression.
From the atmosphere, it seemed he would bring me to the company tomorrow as well.
The thought brought a surge of relief, a small glimmer of hope amidst my embarrassment.
I took a moment to catch my breath and then asked my master, still a little flustered,
“Master, then tomorrow…”
“Well, what should we do?”
“What?”
My eyes widened in surprise at the unexpected answer, and I stared at my master.
His face, usually so readable, was now uncharacteristically ambiguous.
My master subtly avoided my gaze and put off answering for a long time, pretending to think.
He had clearly looked satisfied just a moment ago, so it was confusing when he suddenly changed his tune.
The sudden shift in his demeanor left me bewildered, unsure of how to proceed.
“B-but Master, you clearly said you’d bring me…”
I stammered, my voice laced with a hint of desperation.
“I said I might bring you if you did well. You only awkwardly licked.”
His words, though teasing, held a hint of truth that stung.
“That…”
I was too wronged to continue speaking.
The injustice of his statement burned within me.
When I looked at him with betrayed eyes, my master chuckled softly and said,
“I’ll let it slide this once. Do better tomorrow.”
“Yes…”
I answered glumly and nodded slightly.
I had finally received permission, but a vague feeling of unease remained.
The conditional nature of his approval left a bitter taste in my mouth.
And I quickly realized the reason for that unease.
Wait… tomorrow?
The realization hit me like a bolt of lightning.
“Tomorrow?”
I asked, my voice rising in surprise.
“Yes. If you want to come with me from now on, get my permission every time.”
Did I have to get permission this way every time?
Flustered by my master’s answer, I blinked and answered blankly.
“Yes…”
If I thought about it, I was the one who hadn’t kept my promise.
It was my place to be grateful that my master was even bringing me.
I nodded again, resignation settling over me.
All decisions always rested with my master.
It was a truth I had come to accept, albeit reluctantly.
***
Returning home as usual, I finished dinner with my master and prepared for bed.
The mundane routine offered a brief respite from the emotional rollercoaster of the day.
After washing with warm water, I looked into the mirror through the rising steam.
My cheeks were a little gaunt because I had been obsessed with proving my usefulness to my master recently.
The constant striving, the ceaseless desire to please him, had taken its toll.
Still, after I physically connected with my master yesterday, the emotional distance I’d felt disappeared, and his expression looked much softer.
The shared intimacy had forged a new bond, a silent understanding that transcended words. The robot in the mirror still wore the face of one in love.
My reflection, once cold and unfeeling, now held a faint glow, a testament to the warmth that had begun to blossom within me.
Today…
I wanted to go to my master’s room.
The thought pulsed through me, a quiet yearning that refused to be ignored.
It was a familiar desire, one that had been suppressed for a short time, but now it resurfaced with renewed intensity.
As I stepped into the hallway and arrived at my master’s door, my body froze.
It had only been a few days since we started sleeping separately, but that short period of having separate rooms made me hesitant even to knock on the door.
A wave of uncertainty washed over me, a fear of rejection that made my hand hover in the air.
What could I say to get permission to sleep in his room again…?
My mind raced, searching for the right words, the perfect plea that would open his door to me.
As I deliberated, pacing in front of his room, the door suddenly swung open.
“What are you doing out there, not coming in? It’s bothering me.”
His voice, though gruff, held a hint of exasperation.
“Ah, Master.”
I felt a blush creep up my neck.
My master looked down at me, frowning.
It seemed the sound of my pacing in front of the door had annoyed him.
The realization sent a fresh wave of embarrassment through me.
I lowered my eyes and stammered, “Master, I… that is…”
The words caught in my throat, refusing to form coherent sentences.
“Want to sleep together?”
His question was direct, cutting through my awkward fumbling.
“Yes…”
The single word slipped out, a desperate whisper.
“Come in.”
My master opened the door wider and nodded.
It seemed he could read all my thoughts just by looking at my face.
Was it that obvious…?
I awkwardly rubbed my face and quietly stepped into the room, a sense of relief washing over me.
My master’s familiar scent was the first thing to greet me, a comforting aroma that instantly put me at ease.
I filled my lungs deep with his scent and looked around.
The lamp on his desk was on, and documents and files were piled disorderly beneath it.
He must have been working.
The sight of his work, of his dedication, only deepened my affection for him.
I thought I should sleep quietly so as not to disturb my master and climbed onto the bed.
The soft blanket enveloped my entire body, embracing me in its comforting folds.
‘This feels good…’
It was my master’s bed, the first time in a long while I could lie down comfortably.
It must have been the exact same bed as in my room, but why did it feel cozier here?
The familiar scent, the shared space, everything contributed to a feeling of profound contentment.
Thinking I’d be able to sleep soundly today, I burrowed deep into the blanket, a contented sigh escaping my lips.
The room was bright with the lights on.
It was as bright as day, but that made me feel good, as if I wouldn’t have nightmares.
The light offered a sense of security, chasing away the shadows that often haunted my sleep.
I closed my eyes, trying to fall asleep, the warmth of the bed and the presence of my master lulling me into a peaceful state.
But then the light switched off, and darkness instantly descended, and the bed rippled.
The sudden darkness was startling, but the familiar dip in the mattress signaled his presence, bringing a renewed sense of calm.
“Master, are you going to sleep already?”
I asked, my voice a soft murmur in the quiet room.
“Yes, I haven’t been sleeping well lately.”
In the darkness, I heard the sound of my master pulling up his blanket.
Had he been putting off sleep due to recent heavy work?
I thought he must be tired, then a firm arm wrapped around my waist, pulling me close.
“Master?”
My voice was barely a whisper.
“You smell good.”
His voice was a low rumble against my ear, sending shivers down my spine.
“I-I just showered.”
I stammered, a blush creeping up my neck despite the darkness.
“Yes. I know.”
A satisfied sound emanated from my master’s throat as he held my warmly heated body close.
He rubbed his nose into my damp, wet hair, then relaxed his body and took a deep breath, his rhythmic breathing a soothing presence against my back.
“Master, are you going to sleep like this…?”
I asked, as it seemed strange that my master held me in his arms for so long without letting go.
The closeness was intoxicating, but also a little overwhelming.
My master paused for a moment, then replied, “This is how I sleep well.”
‘This is how I sleep well.’
It sounded as if he could only sleep if I was there.
My heart fluttered slightly at my master’s words.
It might have been a misconception, a hopeful interpretation, but I felt as if I had finally found my purpose.
It was a minor role, but the fact that I could be helpful to my master just by being by his side was enough to make me happy.
A profound sense of contentment settled over me, a feeling of belonging that I hadn’t realized I craved.
Not long after, I heard steady breathing from right behind me.
In the dark room, my master’s rhythmic breathing gently stirred my heart, a constant, reassuring presence.
I forced myself to endure the oncoming drowsiness, keeping that breathing sound in my ears for a long time, wanting to savor every moment of his presence, every beat of his heart.
The quiet intimacy of the moment was a balm to my soul, a perfect end to a day filled with intense emotions.