"Ugh…" In the system space, Kagura scratched his cheek, clicking his tongue. "Completely baffling!"
"You can try it later."
"Fine, end service."
His consciousness returned to reality.
Glancing at the walkie-talkie for Kawasaki in his left hand, he silently intoned, Random Hole, Open!
He scanned the room, but nothing seemed amiss. After waiting a few minutes, still no change. Perplexed, he scratched his head.
"What a useless thing…"
Kagura grumbled. The system's items were growing increasingly pointless!
Tossing the walkie-talkie onto the bed, he shed his outer clothes, draping them over a chair, ready for a shower.
But as his shirt hit the chair, the walkie-talkie crackled. Kawasaki's voice emerged. "Young… Young Master Kagura… Are you there? Please respond if you receive, repeat, please respond."
"Huh?" Shirtless, his toned torso bare, Kagura grabbed the device. "Received, received. What's wrong, Kawasaki?"
"I… While dusting the walls with a feather duster… a hole suddenly appeared in the wall… I'm stuck, can't get out… Could you help me? I'm terribly sorry."
"…?"
A question mark bloomed in Kagura's mind.
Wait, that's the system's Random Hole? It trapped Kawasaki? Why's she always getting stuck?
Stifling a laugh, he adopted a serious tone. "Which room? I'll come rescue you."
He headed to his father's study—a room only three keys could unlock: his father's, his, and Sayuri's.
Called a study, it was practically a grand bedroom, complete with bathroom and bed. Massive bookcases lined the walls, rarely used but regularly cleaned. Sayuri must have sent Kawasaki to dust it soon after her arrival.
Kagura unlocked the door with his key, slipped the bronze key out, and locked it behind him.
The room exuded a refined scent of old books and agarwood incense. Without calling for Kawasaki, he advanced silently.
Beyond the entrance, bookcases flanked a plush sofa and an exquisite rosewood tea table. By the window stood a imposing rosewood desk and a stately chair, cluttered with office supplies and an antique rotary phone. Further in, behind a bookcase, a narrow gap held an unfolded Japanese screen inlaid with gold thread—Sayuri's taste, adorned with a custom cherry-blossom-framed, nude pink-haired anime girl.
The screen narrowed the passage to a single-person width. Beyond it lay a simple bedroom without canopy or bedposts. Nearby doors led to a bathroom and a small library, accessible with the same key. The library was cramped, stuffed with books across multiple tiers, sometimes requiring a ladder.
Kawasaki was trapped in the wall between the study's bedroom and the small library.
Unlike last time, when he'd seen only her rear, her upper body was visible. She wore a maid outfit identical to Ai's, the walkie-talkie dangling from her neck, her arms limp. Below her lay a long feather duster and a slightly dusty rag.
Spotting Kagura, she fixed him with a mildly annoyed stare.
"Well, well, Kawasaki! Stuck again?"
The culprit, Kagura, rubbed his chin, suppressing a grin, feigning ignorance.
"How should I know…" She rolled her eyes, snapping back, then turned away, muttering, "I was wiping, slipped, hit the wall, and got stuck. Young Master Kagura, is your house falling apart?"
She emphasized "Young Master Kagura" sharply.
"So, how do I help?"
He approached the library door, twirling the key and inserting it with a click.
"No… Wait, don't go in yet…"
She reached for him pleadingly, but her arms fell short, flailing uselessly.
"You okay?"
His face was grave, but inwardly, he was roaring with laughter.
"It's… nothing… I'm just… stuck, can't get free. Please think of something, Young Master."
"What's there to do? Pull you out or push you through—those are the options."
He scratched his head, feigning distress.
"As expected…" Kawasaki sighed, pressing her forehead. Watching him move to enter, she held her breath, face reddening, finally yielding. "Fine… Please go in and help… And, uh—"
"And?"
"Don't… do anything weird!"
Her fists clenched, cheeks puffing like steamed buns.
"Weird? Let's assess first."
He pushed the door open.
Her rear was about a meter from his left hand, fifty centimeters from packed bookshelves. Her hips seemed higher today, exceptionally pronounced.
Glancing at her feet, he understood—her toes barely touched the ground, heels lifted, her body tightly wedged, unable to stand flat.
Her black maid skirt, stretched taut by her rounded hips, revealed long, straight legs, taut from tiptoeing, clad in deep black stockings covering calves and knee hollows. The stockings lent her knees a sensual allure, amplified by high heels and tiptoeing—a provocative "wall-butt" pose that stirred Kagura's desires.
"Well… Any good ideas, Young Master?"
She spoke from outside, barely containing her shame.
"Hmm…" He stepped out, leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed, brow furrowed. "Kawasaki, are you sure you're not tempting me?"
"—?!"
Her face flushed deeper. She choked, unable to retort, though she likely wanted to snap, No way!
Yesterday's entrapment could be a fluke, but today? She'd radioed him directly, as if saying, Come admire my perky rear.
Not her fault—the walkie-talkie only reached him.
"Don't you think the ideal maid is diligent but occasionally clumsy, getting scolded, spanked, and groped by her master?"
"I… I'm not… I didn't…"
She hung her head, mumbling unconvincingly.
She aimed for perfection, but who predicts a wall hole? She was helpless!
"Kawasaki, if you want me to touch your rear, just say so. No need to fake clumsiness to lure me."
"I… I really didn't…"
"Oh?" He tsked, pulling the library key, spinning it on his finger, and turning to leave. "If you're not honest, figure it out yourself. Bye~"
"Huh? Wait… I…"
She reached futilely, kicking her legs, but remained stuck. As he walked away, her escape hopeless, she clenched her fists, shouting, "Fine, I get it! Spanking, right? Spank me if you want… Why make excuses…?"
"Nonsense, you're the one making excuses. Let's be real, maid and master."
He shook his head, continuing off.
"What?! Hey… Fine, I was wrong! I, Kawasaki Saki, want Young Master Kagura to knead my rear! Satisfied?! Sob Please get me out…"
"Tch, see? Honesty works." He paused at the screen, turning back under her teary gaze, reinserting the key. Before entering, he warned, "You said it."
She nodded dumbly.
Seeing him enter, she clenched her fists, itching to punch the wall.
Resigned, she sighed, shutting her mouth, thinking, What a lecherous idiot master… Want him to knead me? As if!
Kagura didn't knead immediately. He delivered a sharp SLAP to her plump rear.
Outside, she trembled, nearly crying out.
Thankfully, last night's embarrassment prepared her—she endured.
Ouch… It stings… Idiot master, my rear's still swollen from last night… Why again…?
She complained silently, not daring to speak.
A sore rear versus thirty million yen? The money won.
In the library: "Tch, great feel."
Kagura eyed her quivering flesh, shaking his stinging hand.
Spanking hurt him too!
Kawasaki's tall frame, in heels and tiptoeing, aligned her hips perfectly with his.
The system chimed.
"Greetings, Lord Kagura. New bounty: Choose one or skip:
A: Spank a woman's rear once.
B: Lift a girl's skirt.
C: Reach into a girl's skirt to touch her rear."
All tempting with Kawasaki, he mused. "Can I do A, C, B in order for triple rewards?"
"You jest. No."
"Then A."
He slapped her left cheek with his left hand.
Her left leg kicked back, trembling.
Oddly, no cry reached him through the thin wall.
Was she in pain? Yes, but too embarrassed to scream, she muffled herself with her hand.
The system chimed, "Thank you for completing the bounty. Rewards: [Useless Backdoor] x1 and one Female 5% Sensitivity Enhancer."
"Useless Backdoor?!"
"This item eliminates human waste excretion. Anal hair vanishes, food is fully absorbed in the stomach, textbooks are rewritten, intestines become pristine with vagina-like self-cleaning. Women secrete vaginal-like mucus when aroused. A world-altering item."
"Insane…" Kagura marveled, then clapped his thigh. "Use it!"
Excretion was a time-waster. Even without lewd motives, it was practical.
"World altering… Complete."
His consciousness returned.
The dull pain faded to a tingling itch. Kawasaki switched from covering her mouth with both hands to one, the other bracing the wall, trying to lift her head—hanging face-down was uncomfortable.
Before the tingling subsided, Kagura's hand slipped under her maid skirt.
That jerk… Damn it…
Her left fist clenched, breaths quickening through her nose.
His hand grazed her thigh, lingering at her black lace garter stocking's edge, then slid to her knee hollow, up to her inner thigh, and onto her rear, kneading, occasionally pinching or tugging the garter, letting it snap back, making her legs twitch.
Such a lecher… How does Yuriko stand him? Whatever, a billion yen a year, I'd endure…
While she pondered billions, his hand boldly slipped inside her panties.
Her humiliating pose exposed her panty edges under the skirt. His fingers brushed her waist, pried the panty edge, and slid down her warm, sweaty cleft, palming her private area.
Her body tensed, legs shaking—not from climax, but goosebumps.
Jerk, jerk, jerk… Where's he touching?! He said rear! Is that the rear because it's attached?
She tried clamping her legs, but her jutting rear offered no defense.
His hand, stretching her panties, slid down, palm fitting her moistening lips. Smooth, hairless except for a trace at his fingertip. His middle finger pressed the cleft's rounded bud, sensing sparse hair.
This feels… naughty…
Emboldened, he extended his hand, fingertips of middle, index, and ring fingers brushing her mound, sweeping side to side.
His calloused pianist fingers retained sensitivity, mapping her hair—a small fan-shape over her camel toe, coverable by three fingers, long and dense, absent elsewhere.
Her teal-blue hair seemed natural, making him wonder if her pubic hair matched.
That's too erotic.
Tugging the hair, she finally reacted, lifting her left leg to kick blindly.
He dodged easily, not withdrawing but leaning to her waist, whispering, "Kawasaki… You're wet."
"…"
She stayed silent, itching to curse.
Was she wet? Undeniably.
She tugged her hair during stress-relief self-pleasure, the slight sting soothing.
That jerk… Targeting my sensitive spots… Has he touched enough? I'm not here to warm his bed…
Resigned, she dropped her hands, closing her eyes to "endure," cheeks flushed.
"No answer? I'll take it as consent."
He slid his right hand up, pressing her entrance.
As he'd noted, it was slick—not sweat. His fingertip circled the soft entrance gently. Her rear quivered, but she remained silent, not kicking.
His fingers traced her shape—two soft, wavy lines like split gourd halves. The lips near the urethra were smaller, but at the entrance, slightly larger, not drooping but aesthetically open, as if inviting.
Rubbing was effortless, his fingertip gliding over wet pink lips, drawing circles, pressing the seam inward, then sliding aside. More fluid seeped, her tiptoeing intensifying.
"Kawasaki… You don't hate this, do you?"
He leaned closer, asking near her back.
She heard but refused to answer.
Her mind wavered—logic urged resistance, cursing his lewdness, but sensation and pleasure numbed her, even craving more teasing.
His calloused fingertip, tenderly caressing her softest flesh, brought an unfamiliar thrill, nearly moving her to tears.
"…Your bud, can I touch it?"
Bud meant her clitoris.
"…"
She stomped her left toe, a silent protest or playful chide.
"No answer? That's a yes."
She covered her mouth, opting for silence.
His middle and ring fingers rubbed her entrance, gathering warm fluid, then slid forward, easily reaching her protruding bud.
Her clitoris, more engorged than Ai's post-climax, was either natural or wildly aroused.
Only the tip was exposed, the rest hidden beneath skin, sensitive to direct touch, especially hers, so prominent. He pinched the skin-covered base, rolling it like a mouse wheel, smearing fluid, then tapped the tip, sliding gently around the unexposed part.
Each slide made her legs quake. Though silent, her lower body's reactions set Kagura's blood aflame.
When the fluid dried, he re-wet his fingers, circling again, occasionally brushing the sensitive tip. Her rear tightened, knees closed, toes strained—he sensed her climax nearing. Switching from circles to rapid, gentle sweeps, he teased the bud. Within ten seconds, her back stiffened, hips jutting back, a hot gush flooding his palm, soaking her panties and dripping onto her garter stockings' lace.
Her climax lingered, but the squirt lasted seconds, fluid seeping through his fingers, wetting her legs.
Her knees slowly parted.
Her heaving back showed heavy breathing, likely muffled tightly.
Without permission, he flipped her skirt up, pinning it to her waist, exposing her drenched panties and fluid-streaked legs.
Black garter stockings paired with a different but sheer floral panty from yesterday. Aroused, he yanked the panties to her knees.
She squirmed, finally speaking, "W-Wait… You…"
"Gorgeous… Like dew-kissed petals after rain… And this teal-blue hair… Kawasaki, it's not just your chest that's stunning!"
"Shut… up!" She grumbled, wiggling her hips shyly. "Haven't… you touched enough? Stop now, and I'll pretend this didn't happen… Young Master, get me out, please?"
"Well…"
Back at her left, he licked his right middle finger, sliding it to her entrance, dipping down to touch her crescent-shaped hymen.
"…"
Both froze.
After seconds, she muttered, "Enough… right? Pervert…"
"Tch…" Leaning close, sniffing her sweat, he said, "It's beautiful. Can I taste it?"
"…"
Silence.
"No answer? That's a yes."
"Idiot…"
She muttered.
Unable to see her lower half or predict his moves, she felt vulnerable, but his requests for consent gave her some reassurance.
At least I can refuse the final step…
Closing her eyes, she braced for the "punishment."
In the cramped library, he grabbed a low stool, placing it behind her calves.
Sitting, his face aligned with her provocative rear cleft.
"Your backdoor's lovely… Tender pink…"
He leaned in, inhaling the potent feminine musk.
This scent… Irresistible.
His hands parted her rear like a ripe peach, exposing her dripping pink slit.
His mouth met her eager lips, slurping eagerly. Relishing the chance, he licked as if frosting her slit, tonguing the twisted yet symmetrical crevice, sucking the left side, scraping upward, then the right.
Her flesh, soft as retracting candy, yielded to his lips. He sucked the juices, parted her further, and probed inside, savoring her deepest essence, tongue wrestling her folds, only to be pushed out.
He yanked her panties off her left leg, leaving them on her right heel, spread her legs, and sat backward on the stool, face nestled between her warm thighs, nose against her teal-blue hair, tongue wrapping her swollen pearl. A gentle suck unleashed a lascivious gush, soaking his chest.
"Ha… ha—"
She panted, right hand pressing her face, left nails digging into her palm, using pain to stay silent.
"Delicious… Kawasaki, you're exquisite…"
Sated, he emerged, slapping her rear.
It triggered a mini-climax, her body quivering, a small gush hanging on her thighs.
"I'm… still a virgin… Spare me…"
She finally begged.
He kneaded her rear, asking, "Do you hate me that much?"
"It's not about hate…" Panting, she said pragmatically, "We've known each other barely a day… I can't accept that so soon."
"Fair…"
He unbuckled his belt, the sound panicking her. She wanted to plead but faltered, rear shaking as if tickled, nearly crying.
"Here, then?"
His massive, "super-erect" rod pressed her pink backdoor.
"T-That's… No, no, that's worse…!"
She struggled, but stuck, escape was impossible.
"Then here—?"
He shifted down half an inch, her wetness tempting an accidental slip.
"No… No way—!"
She froze, rigid.
"So, this?"
He returned to her backdoor.
"…" After a long silence, she muttered a muffled "Mhm."
"Thank you, Kawasaki… Stay by my side. I won't mistreat you."
He pulled back, licked his right middle finger, and probed her backdoor.
Thanks to [Useless Backdoor], her rear was pristine, self-cleaning like a vagina, secreting mucus when aroused. His finger, already wet, met a hot, sticky tunnel, uniformly tight unlike a vagina's looser depths.
"Ugh…"
She squirmed, covering her mouth, uncomfortable.
After probing, he tapped her lower intestine, a thin wall from her untouched cervix.
The indirect cervical touch sent shivers through her.
"Going in…"
He withdrew, trailing clear mucus.
"…Idiot."
She grumbled.
He rubbed his rod against her drenched slit, coating the tip and shaft, then pressed her parted backdoor.
What followed was instinctual for men.
Half the tip entered, and she instinctively reached for her waist—not from pain, but a weak-kneed sensation.
Stuck, support was irrelevant.
She hadn't expected her backdoor to "graduate" before her front.
"Speak if it hurts."
He offered kindly.
She saw through his "façade," muttering inwardly, As if you'd stop…
Schlick… schlick…
Her pink backdoor slowly engulfed his nearly nineteen-centimeter rod. The foreign intrusion left her breathless, as if something filled her belly.
It did.
How long is he… This jerk…
She wanted to pound her chest.
Excitement-induced mucus coated his scorching rod, filling every inch of her rectum, pushing deeper. Each tight ring gripped him, resisting yet welcoming his advance.
He bottomed out.
She nearly rolled her eyes, relieved it was her backdoor. If it was my front… I'd be bedridden tomorrow.
"So hot… and wriggling… The entrance is so tight, Kawasaki, trying to snap me?"
"Idiot… Shut up!"
She meant to snap and cover her mouth, but he waited for her voice. As she spoke, he pulled back, the friction sending spasms through her.
"Moving now."
"…"
Silent, she braced herself.
But a faint click of the door sounded.
In the heat, Kagura didn't hear, and with her consent, he began slow thrusts. Each pull felt like uprooting her backdoor, each push bottoming out smoothly.
Concerned for her first time, he started gently, but the system's alterations made her backdoor adaptable. Occasional hard thrusts caused no harm.
Each withdrawal coated his rod in glossy fluid, caught by her backdoor on reentry, pooling in his pubic hair, forming fine foam. Gripping her waist, he thrust vigorously.
Sayuri, hands behind her back, skipped playfully into the study's bedroom—where Kawasaki was stuck.
Her upper body faced Sayuri, her lower half vigorously taken by Kagura. Mortified, Kawasaki clenched her fists, face taut, praying Sayuri wouldn't notice.
She squeezed her rear to signal Kagura, but he, blind to Sayuri, mistook it for eagerness, thrusting faster. The sticky slap-slap-slap echoed in the cramped space.
"???"
Sayuri tilted her head, puzzled.
The system ensured she didn't question the hole, only marveling at Kawasaki's clumsiness.
Facing "Yuriko's" confusion, Kawasaki dared not speak, fearing her voice would betray her.
Desperate, she gestured a shaky "hand sign," roughly meaning, So sorry, I'm stuck.
Sayuri, playful, mimicked her, her gestures lewd—fingers circling and poking, cheeks flushing, body swaying, clearly imagining something risqué.
She meant, Stuck like this, I could draw you being taken from behind in a doujin!
Kawasaki, misunderstanding, thought she was exposed, mortified.
Kagura, oblivious, whispered by her waist, "Kawasaki, I'm close…"
His rod became a battering ram, pounding her insides, rattling her womb and cervix, itching her nearby slit more than his tongue had. Her body shuddered uncontrollably. Sensing her climax, he leaned back, slamming her rear, yanking her teal-blue hair.
"Ugh—!"
The familiar sting pushed her over. Face flushed, she convulsed before Sayuri, squirting onto Kagura's thighs, splattering the floor. He thrust deep, roaring as he released thick, scalding seed, filling her intestines, making her legs buckle, fluid gushing, matting her pubic hair like a paintbrush. Without the wall, she'd have collapsed.