A conversation that had felt somehow off-kilter finally clicked into place.
Curse.
'Zeke thinks I'm under some curse.'
What an absurd misunderstanding.
Freya had reached the pinnacle of mage ranks—20th Circle—long ago.
No mage alive could curse someone like her.
And even if one somehow succeeded, she could dispel it with ease.
Zeke thought she'd been bedridden for a week due to illness, but the truth was far more scandalous: she'd spent that week pleasuring herself in her bedroom.
She simply couldn't hold back.
Her disciple's increasingly masculine form kept flashing before her eyes.
Every time it did, her feminine core tingled unbearably.
So she'd had no choice but to rub herself.
Imagining her disciple ravishing her, this pathetic master had ground against her crotch day after day, soaking the bedsheets with her juices—right up until moments ago.
Unable to control her lust, masturbating like some heat-crazed monkey... maybe she was cursed after all.
Anyway.
Zeke was thoroughly mistaken right now.
"Just tell me what you need. I'll do anything I can."
Zeke gazed at her with desperate, earnest eyes.
His sincerity shone through.
So cute.
No matter how much time passed or how much he grew into an adult, a child would always seem like a little kid to their parent.
I want to pounce on him.
Watching her disciple's teary eyes filled with genuine worry ignited a lewd greed in her lower belly, making her pulse throb wildly.
Just minutes ago, she'd been fantasizing about him embracing her while touching herself, so the embers flared quickly.
Her clit, swollen from constant friction and slick with arousal, twitched back and forth.
...This isn't right.
I shouldn't feel this way.
These emotions betrayed his trust.
To Freya's common sense, a master getting sexually aroused by her disciple was no different from incest.
She could rein in her feelings and suppress her urges when alone, but with him right there in front of her, holding back was excruciating.
Torturous, even.
Of all emotions, love was the hardest to control—harder than anger.
Love was a transcendent force.
People died for it, lived for it, had their entire lives upended by it.
Thank goodness, then...
Zeke didn't remember that day.
The conversation they'd shared.
The body heat they'd exchanged.
Of course, Freya's memory wasn't perfectly clear either.
But it had definitely happened.
Her disciple's cock had ravaged his master's pussy.
The proof was the semen still leaking from her folds.
She was certain.
Regardless, since Zeke didn't remember, he might think his master had raped him.
He must have felt deeply betrayed and disappointed.
That's why he'd run away.
Which made his return all the more grateful, all the more joyful.
He begged forgiveness for some grave sin, but if anyone needed to apologize, it was Freya.
Could things go back to how they were before?
It would be tough.
With these wicked feelings for her disciple—and her refusal to let them go—returning to a normal master-disciple bond was impossible.
But...
If it turned into a man-woman relationship, maybe they could find some fruitful resolution.
No, I can't. I mustn't.
She'd already crossed the line once—what difference would crossing it a little further make?
Reason and desire clashed within Freya's heart.
"...You'll really do anything?"
"Yes."
Freya calmed her pounding heart.
"Prepare a bath for me... help me bathe."
Zeke's face lit up.
"Yes...!"
He jumped up and bounded toward the bath like an excited puppy.
"Haaah... I'm such a lowlife..."
The moment Zeke left, Freya threw off the covers.
Her pale naked body came into view.
Overall ghostly white, but certain areas flushed deep crimson with heat.
Even lying down, her breasts rose pertly, their tips crowned with cherry-like nipples puffed up taut. The pussy she'd tormented for a week was steeped in her juices, swollen plump like fresh shellfish.
Hot vapors billowed from the slit.
Freya rubbed her pussy with the hand Zeke had caressed moments ago.
Her slender fingers tormented the pearl-like swollen clit.
"Hng... ah... Zeke...!"
It wasn't stronger stimulation, but using the hand he'd touched made it feel intensely more erotic; her hips bucked wildly.
The long-suppressed desire burst forth like a dam breaking, her pussy squirting juices in waves.
"I'm a failure as a master... hng... a total failure... hrngh...!"
Fantasizing about her disciple touching her pussy, the master reached a taboo climax.
2.
Brimming with joy, Zeke cleaned the bath chamber and filled the tub with hot water.
He was thrilled that Freya had opened up to him, even a little.
He was still worried, of course.
"That said... did I let my personal desires get the better of me?"
Zeke glanced down at his hand.
He'd held and stroked hers to show his sincere concern.
But midway through, he'd kneaded it with selfish enjoyment of its softness.
Fortunately, his master hadn't noticed...
Zeke clenched his fist.
"Get a grip...!"
What was the point of coming back if he still saw his master as a woman?
He slapped both cheeks.
His master was his master.
Not a woman.
He could love her, but it was familial love, not romantic.
His master was family.
His master was like a mother.
His master was not a woman.
As he chanted this mantra inwardly, he heard footsteps entering the bath chamber and turned around.
"Is it ready?"
Freya entered in her bathrobe, striding in with regal poise.
"Yes, you can go right in."
Zeke proudly showed off the tub, scattered with flower petals.
"I see."
He'd hoped for praise, but her response was cool.
Expecting praise was greedy, he supposed.
Still, just having her come out like this filled him with joy.
"Then I'll step out."
As he bowed and turned to leave, a delicate hand grabbed him.
"Where are you going?"
Freya tilted her head, gripping his wrist.
"Huh?"
Zeke tilted his head in kind.
"You have to attend me while I bathe."
"Me? Doing that?"
Freya scowled, flashing a sly smile.
"You just said you'd do anything, but bathing me is too much?"
"No... it's not that it's too hard..."
Right—it wasn't about difficulty.
That wasn't the issue at all.
What had he just sworn to himself?
Master is family.
Master is mother.
Master is not a woman.
But attending her bath would shatter all those vows in an instant.
For a vigorous young man in his twenties, a woman's naked body—especially a beautiful one—was overwhelmingly stimulating. All the more if it was a woman he adored.
"It's because my body's still weak."
Those words snapped Zeke back to reality.
Right—his master needed help, and here he was being selfish again!
He still hadn't learned.
That's why he'd gotten drunk and done those beastly things.
"...Understood."
Freya stood before him and spread her arms.
"Start with the robe."
"You want me to undress you...?"
"That's what I said."
"Yes."
Zeke squeezed his eyes shut.
This was just caregiving.
With trembling hands, he undid her robe.
He untied the waist sash ribbon and parted the front panels like peeling fruit skin.
Freya's pale naked form emerged.
Her full breasts shaped like large teardrops, perfectly formed. At their peaks rose pink areolas like gentle hills, each topped with a plump, ripe berry.
Zeke whipped his head away.
Freya handed him the robe and walked toward the tub.
-Step... step... step.
Her footsteps echoed through the chamber.
As they receded, masculine instinct dragged his gaze back.
Instinct, pure instinct!
What he glimpsed was Freya's back.
Lush pink hair draped over her hips.
Between swaying locks, her firm ass cheeks peeked out.
Each step made the plump flesh atop her long legs jiggle sensually.
Zeke stared at her ass, entranced like a hypnotized man.
Steam rising in the bath lent her rear an almost sacred glow.
"Oh, right."
Freya turned back.
Zeke jerked his head away with lightning reflexes.
"Come tie my hair up."
"Me?"
"Are you going to question every little order? You said you'd do anything—just do it. Got it?"
"Yes."
Zeke approached from behind.
His petite master, barely taller than his head.
As a child, she'd seemed so tall and imposing, but standing like this, she looked so small and fragile.
Zeke deftly gathered and tied her hair.
He'd learned it young, so it was second nature.
Come to think of it, they'd bathed together back then.
This wasn't the first time seeing her naked, technically.
But viewing her with awakened sexual awareness? Almost entirely new.
Too stimulating.
His blood pressure spiked; he felt like blood might spurt from his nose.
"Zeke, your breathing's rough."
"Sorry."
"No need to apologize."
"Your breathing's rough too, Master."
"J-just ignore mine!"
Even a short walk winded her.
Asking for help undressing meant she was utterly debilitated.
Her fever must not have broken yet—her ears were bright red.