"Hmm? Eriri, what are you doing?"
Just as her fingertips were about to make contact, Seiji Fujiwara's voice rang out above her head like a demon's whisper.
Eriri jolted violently, snapping back to awareness!
She lifted her head to find Seiji had stopped moving at some point, watching her with amusement, a cat-playing-with-mouse grin on his face.
And Utaha, limp as pudding on the table, was also panting, regarding her with a look mixing sympathy and amusement.
"Seems just watching has already become too much for you?" Seiji chuckled. "If you want it that badly, you can beg me. As long as you ask, I'll definitely satisfy you."
BOOM—!!!
Those words were like a bucket of ice water dumped over her head, instantly extinguishing all of Eriri's desire.
She immediately glared at him with fury.
This man has been doing this on purpose from the start!
Teasing her to a point of no return, then deliberately performing with Utaha right in front of her—his goal all along was to make her abandon all dignity and beg him out of pure desire!
Does he think reality is a doujinshi?
Bastard!
"In your dreams!" Eriri snapped, jerking her hand back.
She straightened her spine, forcibly suppressing that desire threatening to consume her from within.
Her azure eyes locked onto Seiji Fujiwara.
As if she'll resist to the very end!
Bastard! You absolute bastard! I will never surrender! Never!
I, Eriri Spencer Sawamura, would rather be burned to ash by desire than beg for mercy from a demon like you!
Watching her stubborn display, Seiji's smile only deepened.
He said nothing more, simply turned back to Utaha, leaned down, and whispered something in her ear.
Immediately, the "rhythm" in the living room accelerated sharply, the regular vibrations becoming more urgent and heavy, as if they might collapse the entire sofa.
Accompanying it was Utaha's voice, deliberately raised, broken yet melodious.
Eriri closed her eyes, but the sounds still drilled into her ears, stirring the heat inside her body.
She dug her nails deep into her palms, trying to use pain to fight against the waves constantly assaulting her reason.
...
...
Over a month has passed since Winter Comiket 15.
Yet the online fervor over "Eri Kashiwagi's" triumphant return burned like a fire in the depths of winter, showing no signs of dying.
Eriri's Pixiv and Twitter accounts were flooded daily with tens of thousands of fan messages and commercial commission requests arriving like snowflakes.
Those extending olive branches to her were mostly famous circles in the R-18 doujinshi world and publishers specializing in adult manga.
As long as they didn't sell to minors, doujinshi were legal merchandise in Japan.
Of course, that restriction was like the ban on minors drinking or smoking—a classic Maginot Line. Those who know, know.
"All commission requests..."
Eriri sat in her cold gaming chair, wrapped in a thick blanket, expressionlessly staring at the screen displaying praise that would drive any doujinshi artist mad.
[Toranoana Anonymous Board]
[Thread: Technical Discussion on Eri Kashiwagi-sensei's New Work "The Disciplinary Committee Member's Secret After-School Tutoring"]
1L (OP): Holy shit, I'm blown away! Everyone stop sleeping and discuss this masterpiece! Look carefully at page 18, that panel where the heroine gets pressed against the podium by the male lead—that back curve! It's not just erotic, there's humiliation, resistance, but more than anything, there's the trembling of a body being developed! What has Eri Kashiwagi-sensei experienced these past years?! Her skills have evolved terrifyingly!!
12L: Agree with above! The old Eri Kashiwagi-sensei drew "beautiful girls posing in H positions"—very pretty, but somewhat fake, like an exquisite doll. Now, she draws "a living, breathing girl experiencing H things"! That sense of presence and realism is on a completely different dimension! Looking at that page, I can imagine an entire NTR epic!
35L: Above poster, your perspective is too narrow! This has transcended simple NTR—this is a sense of spiritual domination! Look at the heroine's eyes, that gaze mixing hatred and dazed confusion is simply art! I hereby proclaim this "Eri Kashiwagi's Renaissance"!
...
[Melon Editorial Department · Private Message]
From: Kenichi Yamada (Chief Editor of Melon's "Monthly ComiX")
Subject: Sincere Invitation for Commercial R-18 Manga Serialization
Content: Dear Eri Kashiwagi-sensei! I am Yamada, chief editor of "Monthly ComiX." Our entire editorial team has already reviewed your masterpiece from this CM, and we are all deeply impressed by your revolutionary technique and emotional expressiveness! We believe your talent should not be limited to the doujinshi realm. Our publication would like to invite you for long-term commercial R-18 manga serialization at the highest industry rate (80,000 yen per page), with complete freedom over subject matter and length! We are confident you will become the next adult manga queen leading the industry!
...
[Famous Doujinshi Circle "neet-neet" · Private Message]
From: neet-neet Lead Organizer
Subject: Worshipping the Master! Seeking Collaboration!
Content: Eri Kashiwagi-sensei! I'm the lead organizer of neet-neet! I bought three copies of your new work—one to collect, one to spread the word, one to worship! Sensei, you are god! Please, next time you publish a collaboration anthology, let us join! We can handle all the post-production and printing! We only ask to have our circle's name printed on the cover! Humbly offering tea.jpg
...
In the past, such praise would have made Eriri dance with joy in her studio.
But now, they were like tiny needles, making her heart ache and itch.
She simply scrolled the mouse expressionlessly, politely replying to each one.
Because she knew better than anyone the source of this "evolution" they were praising.
After declining everything.
Eriri leaned back in her chair exhaustedly, closing her eyes.
The studio was quiet, only the computer's soft humming.
Yet in her mind, she couldn't help but recall the scene of that man holding her hand, correcting her drafts stroke by stroke.
She could clearly remember the warmth of his palm, that irresistible force, and his voice at her ear—that voice filled with magic, like a demon's whisper.
"...Look here, the girl's waistline needs to sink down a bit more, the muscles should show a relaxed feeling after tension, this expresses the body instinctively releasing strength from nervousness..."
"...The eyes, the pupils need to be unfocused, but there should be a hint of tears at the corners—this is the essence of shame and desire coexisting, what readers most want to see..."
"...And the fingers, don't clench them in a fist, let them open powerlessly, fingertips slightly curled, as if trying to grasp something but unable to hold anything. This sense of helplessness is the greatest eroticism..."
Those words, those instructions, echoed in her mind like a curse, each one carrying heat, burning her cheeks.
She could even feel her breathing becoming somewhat rapid, her heartbeat accelerating uncontrollably.
A familiar, utterly shameful burning sensation rose like a trickle from deep within her body, gathering into a warm current.
Her hand unconsciously moved past the blanket, toward beneath her skirt.
"—!"
The moment her fingertips were about to touch that warm fabric, Eriri jolted violently, snapping awake!
She jerked her hand back like she'd been electrocuted, her azure eyes filled with shock and fury.
She looked down at that disobedient hand as if looking at something filthy.
"What... what am I doing?!"
Just recalling that man's "teaching" had caused such a massive reaction in her body!
This was even more humiliating than being teased by Seiji Fujiwara to her face!
Eriri shook her head vigorously, trying to shake those shameful images away.
After a bout of intense shame and indignation, an even more complex emotion welled up.
Though the process was humiliating enough to make her want to die, though she wished she could grind Seiji Fujiwara's face against a drawing board a hundred times, she had to admit one thing.
That man opened a door for her that she'd never seen before.
He made her understand that her previously prided drawing skills were so pale and powerless before true "emotional expression."
Though she was unwilling to admit it, but...
Seiji Fujiwara's guidance showed her the path forward.
"That's right..." Eriri took a deep breath, sitting up straight again, her azure eyes reigniting with unwilling flames. "I can't stop here... I must... turn all these humiliating things into my own!"
She refused all commercial commissions, not out of self-abandonment, but because she knew—she wasn't good enough yet.
She was just a puppet copying Seiji Fujiwara's "soul."
She hadn't converted those insights into her own skills!
What she needed to do was digest, absorb, and then surpass!
She wanted to create her next doujinshi, one truly led by herself, one that thoroughly integrated all those "teachings"!
Having made up her mind, Eriri rallied herself and threw herself back into creation.
However, as she was conceptualizing the storyboards for her new work, she accidentally discovered a sticky note in the corner of her drawing desk that didn't belong to her.
On it was Seiji Fujiwara's elegant yet irritating handwriting.
[Not bad. For the next 'rent payment,' I'm very much looking forward to our 'guidance session' together.]
Eriri's cheeks instantly flushed red to her ears.
Anger, shame, various emotions intertwined, nearly making her snap the G-pen in her hand.
"Bastard! Scum! Demon!" She cursed through gritted teeth in a low voice, crumpling the note into a ball and throwing it violently into the trash.
That man, he knew everything!
He'd already seen through that she would choose this path!
This note was a blatant provocation and preview!
What made her even more irritated was that word "our."
That word inevitably made her think of Utaha Kasumigaoka.
That girl who always maintains elegance and sharp tongue at school, proud and confident as an untouchable flower—why... why would she willingly submit so humbly to that man?
Even... even actively cooperating with him to "guide" her?
Fragments from that night flashed through Eriri's mind.
...
At Seiji Fujiwara's signal, Utaha knelt on the carpet and voluntarily unbuckled his belt.
In that instant, her cheeks flushed crimson, yet her eyes filled with unusual fervor. She looked up, gazing at Seiji Fujiwara with devotion approaching that of a sacrificial offering, as if he were her god and she was about to dedicate her most precious everything.
...
During a break, Seiji went to drink water.
Utaha voluntarily rose and, like a scene from a doujinshi, gently and carefully cleaned the weapon.
To facilitate the next round of firing.
...
At the final moment.
Eriri even heard Utaha voluntarily whispering in Seiji Fujiwara's ear, using a voice sweeter than anything she'd ever heard, begging for even more excessive treatment... That voice held no trace of coercion, only pure desire.
...
These images made Eriri's just-subsided blush surge violently back, burning until her heart raced chaotically.
She could not comprehend it at all.
Utaha-senpai... what was she thinking? Was she being blackmailed somehow? Or perhaps... she was actually enjoying it?
That thought sent a chill through Eriri, along with a complex emotion mixed with jealousy that even she was unwilling to acknowledge.
She unconsciously pulled out her phone, unlocked the screen, and found Utaha Kasumigaoka's contact.
Her finger hovered over the call button for a long time, the screen's light reflecting her constantly changing expression.
What should she ask?
"Hello? Utaha-senpai? Why are you willing to let Seiji Fujiwara do those things to you?"
No no no, that's asking for death!
The moment those words leave her mouth, she'd definitely be torn to shreds by her sharp tongue.
"Um... Utaha-senpai, about Fujiwara-kun... do you have some reason you can't speak of?"
Asking that way, considering Utaha seems to be enjoying herself, might even earn a mocking response: "Oh? Are you jealous, Eriri?"
In the end, Eriri irritably tossed her phone aside.
She realized she had no idea how to broach the subject. In this bizarre three-person relationship, she and Utaha were no longer simply friends.
...
...
Time rushed past.
Another rent payment day arrived.
Seiji Fujiwara came to the villa as promised, entering the studio.
"I'm here again, Eriri."
"Hmph!"
Eriri merely lifted her eyelids, coldly glancing at him before lowering her head to continue sketching the storyboard before her.
Here he comes again! This bastard is coming to toy with my body under the guise of 'teaching.'
You just want to see me submit, don't you? Too bad, I've already seen through all your tricks!
Hmph, sadistic black-hearted male lead... that character type is already clichéd in doujinshi, not a shred of originality. Once I learn all your moves, I'll draw a doujinshi with you as the model—as a total bottom, getting railed by a hundred muscle-bound maniacs in turn...
Eriri secretly anticipated that scenario.
"Why so cold?"
Seiji Fujiwara walked behind the girl, leaning down, his warm breath washing over her ear, interrupting her dangerous thoughts.
"So focused on creating? Perfect. Tonight's 'guidance' will start with practice."
Without asking permission, he lifted Eriri from her chair and walked toward the sofa bed in the studio meant for rest.
Eriri struggled symbolically twice, jabbing his chest with her elbow. Finding it useless, she simply gave up and let him do as he pleased.
The girl's expression remained icy, as if everything about to happen had nothing to do with her, merely an experiment she must endure for research purposes.
However, when Seiji Fujiwara began his "teaching," Eriri discovered that theory and practice were forever separated by a chasm.
His technique was far more sophisticated than she imagined—and far more torturous.
The initial movements were gentle. Eriri could even analyze them calmly in her mind, like an observer.
Hmph, this move again... edging.
She sneered internally.
Such an old trick. First use gentle contact to lower my guard, then through repeated teasing, destroy my psychological defenses until I beg him myself? I'm 'Eri Kashiwagi'—I've drawn this plot eight hundred times. You think I'll fall for it?
Eriri closed her eyes, even able to predict his next move in her mind.
Here it comes, the same sequence again.
His fingers first gently threaded into her silky golden hair, fingertips tenderly massaging her scalp, while his other hand grasped the signature twin-tail ribbons, slowly untying them, letting the golden cascade spill over her shoulders.
This guy has a pathological obsession with my twin-tails. Every single time he has to untie them first—does he think it gives him a greater sense of conquest? Whatever.
Next, his kiss didn't land on her lips, but like feathers, gently marked her forehead, the tip of her nose, then lingered on the girl's slender white neck and delicate collarbone.
====
You can read up to chapter 105 on patreon.com/NiaXD.