Chapter 45: Unexpected Lactation and Tyllian’s Discovery

His master pressed Ash down with his body.

Then, he dipped his hand in the semen that had splattered on his clothes and smeared it all over Ash’s stomach. 

His master’s tongue traced down Ash’s thin body, where ribs were visible under his nipples, and then began to lick the semen he had spread.

Ash stared blankly down at the scene. 

His mind had finally cleared enough to understand the situation. 

At least the most terrifying thing Ash could imagine hadn’t happened. 

His master had simply… used magic to make milk come out of Ash’s chest…

‘What do you mean, ‘simply’?’

Ash truly couldn’t help but say it! 

“Why… why are you such a pervert?”

Was it because he was a wizard? 

But being strange didn’t mean his sexual preferences had to be strange, did it?

His master blinked, looking puzzled. 

“Isn’t breast play common?”

“This isn’t ‘play’!” 

What was he talking about, after doing such weird things to someone else’s chest?

His master sucked on one of Ash’s breasts again. 

He kneaded the other with his free hand. 

Ash let out a groan.

Fluid welled up from his squeezed breast, dampening his master’s hand.

His master licked his hand as if it were precious, then bit the breast he was sucking again.

“You enjoyed it, didn’t you? It’s hurtful if you say it’s not foreplay after you even ejaculated.”

“No…!” 

Ash was about to say something but inadvertently looked over his master’s shoulder.

Tyllian was standing there, looking dazed. All the hairs on Ash’s body stood on end.

“Tyl! Tyl, don’t look! No, get out!”

Tyllian instinctively obeyed Ash’s command. 

He turned his head away from Ash. 

Then he paused and looked back at Ash.

“Lord Ash. Shouldn’t the command you issue in this situation be to drag that man out? If you command it, I will deal with him immediately.”

“You get out!”

It wasn’t his master who was causing Ash trouble! Well, of course, his master was the one who started it, but still.

The biggest problem was that Tyllian was watching this disgraceful scene with wide eyes. 

“M-Master. Wait. Just for a moment, don’t…”

“If I don’t release it, it’ll hurt.”

“Ah!”

Splat! 

More breast milk sprayed out of Ash’s chest. 

It even soaked Tyllian’s clothes… 

Ash couldn’t look at him anymore. 

“Get out, get out! Please! Huh? I’m commanding you! Please…! Ugh!”

Ash pleaded.

As he squirmed, his hardened breast was pressed against his master’s teeth.

A terrible pain mixed with pleasure whitened his vision.

Ash felt like he was going crazy, shaking his head from side to side and biting his lip tight.

His master made a sucking sound and pulled his lips away from Ash’s breast.

His researcher’s analytical tone was heard.

“It’s not sweet, but it suits my taste as I eat it. It’s not bad. Ash’s scent is sweet, so if the taste had been stronger, it might have been too much.”

“Just…!” 

Could he just shut up? 

Ash wanted to cry.

But Tyllian still hadn’t left! 

He stood there, frozen. 

What on earth did he want to see? 

Ash was a man who could think. 

Showing the person who said he liked him a scene of himself entangled with someone else didn’t seem right. 

Actually, even if Tyllian hadn’t said he liked him, Ash wouldn’t have wanted to show him this.

No, did the person who liked him really have to see something he disliked? 

Wasn’t that strange too? 

Before that, Ash was his master!

“Why…! Why aren’t you listening? I said it was a command! So you should listen!” 

Ash burst into tears again. 

He couldn’t bear the sorrow. 

Even amidst that, milk continued to overflow from his chest.

His nipples were swollen and red, standing stiff.

He was dying of embarrassment.


Would it hurt less if he bit his tongue and died? 

No, he shouldn’t die. 

Why should he die? 

He couldn’t die at least before he screwed over Owen Mills.

Ash couldn’t even figure out what he was thinking. 

Tyllian seemed just as confused. 

“But… how can I leave when I don’t know what else that man might do?”

“Whatever he does, don’t you look!”

“I won’t look. Will that suffice?”

“What?” 

Ash stopped crying. 

His master looked between the two of them, then sucked on Ash’s breast again. 

That action was so absurd it no longer registered.

Tyllian stood with his back to the bed, facing the door. 

His broad back was tense, muscles taut, and one hand rested on his sword. 

“If that man does anything severe, scream. I will cut off his head immediately.”

‘No…’

Suck…

Ash squeezed his eyes shut. 

He wanted to clear his thoughts, but his master wouldn’t give him a moment.

‘Is that right?’ 

His recognizing his master as a danger was understandable. 

Ash himself was horrified by what his master had done.

But was that really right?!

Ash was confused.

“Oh dear, I would never harm Ash. Tyllian is mistaken, I haven’t even ‘slept’ with Ash. A master sleeping with his disciple is a bit much, isn’t it? As Tyllian says, it might even be shameless.”

His master was spouting nonsense.

“If this isn’t sleeping, then what is it?!”

“Hm?” 

His master gently chewed on Ash’s swollen nipple with his teeth. 

He must not eat anything, his teeth were so white. 

The sight of them biting Ash’s bright red nipple looked like he was biting into some fruit to devour it. 

His master cupped Ash’s nipple with his pale lips and rubbed the tip of his tongue over the part where milk came out.

Ash groaned again. 

He bit his lip to hold it back, but his penis stood erect. 

That thoughtless thing just got excited at any time, damn it. 

His master stroked Ash’s penis as if it were cute, then pulled his mouth away from Ash’s chest. 

He widened his eyes as if he genuinely didn’t know.

“I’m just doting on you.”

It was an outrageous answer…

“Cecil More. Is there something wrong with your brain?”

‘So it was crazy talk after all?’ 

Even Tyllian, with his back turned, asked the same thing, giving Ash certainty.

“You’ve turned my body into this, and you say what?!”

“Ah. Your chest will return to normal in a little while. I just tricked your body into ‘thinking’ it needs to produce milk.”

“That’s called a shameless act! In the common world. Though I suppose you wouldn’t know, Master!”

“Ah…?” 

His master’s eyes widened further. 

“But I didn’t ‘lay a hand’ on you. Oh. ‘Lay a hand’ here is an idiom, by the way.”

“I know! And you already laid hands on me, Master?!” 

Surely, this person didn’t think that as long as there was no penetration, it didn’t count as sleeping with someone? 

If that were the case, why would there be a term like ‘oral sex’? 

Sucking with the mouth counts as sex too! 

He must be lacking in such basic common sense because he doesn’t interact with people or live in the world. 

Ash was genuinely worried about his master. 

Though he was more worried about his own condition.

“But Ash will someday fulfill his duty of production as a noble, and then he’ll produce milk… And you’re saying that tasting a little of it means I ‘laid hands’ on you?” 

His master was surprised.

“What is foreplay?! It’s one of the stages of sexual intercourse. You’ve more than laid hands on me already! No, before that, after you’ve made me ingest your semen so many times…!”

“What did you say?” 

Tyllian turned his head. 

His voice was terrifyingly low. 

Ash realized he had made a slip of the tongue.

But milk kept dripping from his chest. 

It was unbearably itchy. 

He didn’t understand the principle of how his body was tricked, but his chest had truly grown larger.

It was slightly swollen, and a tingling sensation came from it.

Ash wanted to scratch it. 

He wanted to shake off the agonizing pleasure that kept his toes curling and made his lower abdomen feel heavy. 

He knew one way to do it.

For his master to suck on his chest.

To swallow the milk that had become so abundant it was clumping inside…

But his master didn’t move.

“Ugh, turn your head away…”

“I apologize.”

Tyllian was very obedient. 

Ash suddenly felt resentful of that. 

He just turned his head away immediately when told to? 

Even though Ash was suffering like this…

“Uuugh! It’s itchy, me, I… Tyl?! Tyllian, it’s itchy. Do something!”

“Lord Ash.”

“Someone, please…! Master, I, this, quickly…”

He felt like he was going crazy. 

Ash pushed his chest out and cried. 

His red, ripe nipples stood out against his pale skin, and the surrounding areolas darkened in color. 

The milk moistened them, making Ash look unbearably provocative. 

The tingling intensified, spreading through his core, making his hips twitch involuntarily. 

He felt a deep, unfamiliar ache that pleaded for relief, for the pressure to be eased.

The sensation was a maddening blend of discomfort and a raw, insistent pleasure he couldn’t deny.

He was desperate for anything to make it stop, or, paradoxically, to make it more intense in a way that would bring release.

His master, Cecil, watched Ash’s distress with an almost scientific detachment, his brow furrowed in thought rather than concern.

It was a look Ash had come to associate with Cecil’s most bizarre magical experiments, and now, he was the subject. 

Ash’s breath hitched as another droplet of milk beaded on his nipple, glistening. 

The shame burned through him, hot and swift, yet the overwhelming need of his body was stronger.

“Master, please!” 

Ash’s voice was a desperate whimper, laced with unshed tears. 

His body was betraying him, responding to this bizarre, humiliating magic in ways he couldn’t control. 

The thought of Tyllian standing there, even with his back turned, knowing what was happening, was almost too much to bear. 

Ash squirmed again, trying to alleviate the unbearable itch and pressure, but it only seemed to make the sensation more profound. 

His hands instinctively moved to his chest, but he hesitated, not wanting to touch himself in front of them, even as the urge gnawed at him.

Cecil finally spoke, his tone still annoyingly analytical. 

“The stimulation is clearly intense. The somatic manipulation is proceeding as expected. The mammary glands are fully activated.”

“I don’t care about your magic! Make it stop! Or… or just…” 

Ash couldn’t bring himself to finish the sentence, but his eyes pleaded, darting between his tormentor and the silent, imposing figure of Tyllian. 

The discomfort was escalating, a throbbing ache that settled deep in his groin, accompanied by the ceaseless, maddening itch around his nipples. 

Each drip of milk felt like a hot tear, a testament to his humiliation.

Tyllian, still facing the door, shifted slightly, his hand tightening on his sword hilt. 

“Lord Ash, is the discomfort unbearable? I can…” 

His voice was low, laced with a barely suppressed fury.

“No! Don’t look! Just… just leave! Please!” 

Ash cried out, his voice cracking. 

He didn’t want Tyllian to see him like this, so broken and vulnerable, so utterly at the mercy of Cecil’s bizarre magic. 

The idea that Tyllian, who admired and respected him, was witnessing this debasement was agonizing.

“But if I leave, he might do more,” Tyllian retorted, his voice firm despite Ash’s pleas. 

“My duty is to protect you, Lord Ash.”

“You’re not protecting me by standing there and watching!” 

Ash screamed, his face flushed scarlet. 

The pleasure-pain was now almost unbearable, his lower abdomen cramping with an insistent throb. He needed release, desperately. 

His master was right there, the cause of his current torment, and also the only one who could provide relief. It was a twisted, horrifying realization.

Cecil, observing Ash’s escalating distress, tilted his head. 

“It seems the body’s natural response to prolonged engorgement is quite potent. Fascinating. And the psychological component of shame is also evident, further exacerbating the physical sensation.”

“Shut up! Just shut up and help me!” 

Ash was practically sobbing now, tears streaming down his face as he pushed his chest forward, practically offering himself. 

He was past caring about dignity or shame.

The physical need was paramount.


His vision swam, a haze of white and red from the intensity of the sensations.

His nipples, raw and swollen, pulsed with each beat of his heart.

His master’s gaze fixed on Ash’s engorged chest, a curious flicker in his eyes.

He reached out a hand, his fingers brushing the wet skin around Ash’s nipple. 

Ash flinched, a jolt of pleasure-pain shooting through him, making him gasp. 

“M-Master…” he whimpered, his voice barely audible.

“It seems the solution is quite simple then, isn’t it, Ash?” 

Cecil murmured, a faint, almost imperceptible smile playing on his lips. 

His eyes, usually so distant and analytical, held a peculiar glint. 

He leaned in, his lips once again closing around Ash’s aching nipple, and a long, deep suck followed.

Ash’s body arched upwards, a guttural groan escaping his lips as immense relief flooded through him. 

The pressure began to ease, the maddening itch subsiding into a warm, lingering throb. 

He closed his eyes, clenching his fists, trying to ride out the overwhelming wave of sensation. 

His master’s rhythmic sucking continued, drawing out the milk, and with each swallow, Ash felt a part of the torment recede, replaced by a strange, embarrassing satisfaction.

“You’re… you’re a monster,” Ash choked out, even as his hips instinctively pressed against his master’s body, a silent plea for more. 

The sheer contradiction of his words and his body’s reaction was maddening.

Tyllian remained silent, his back still turned, but Ash could practically feel the tension radiating from him. 

The air in the room was thick with unspoken emotions – shame, anger, confusion, and a strange, undeniable pleasure that Ash desperately wished he didn’t feel. 

His master, oblivious or uncaring, continued his ministrations, solving the ‘problem’ he had created, leaving Ash a trembling, embarrassed mess caught between relief and utter mortification.