…
Inside the room.
Seiji was idly scrolling through his phone.
The ACGN works of this world were all ones that hadn't existed in his previous life—some masterpieces, some by famous creators—and he was having an absolute blast exploring them.
Suddenly, there was a knock at the door.
"Who is it?" he asked casually, not even looking up from his screen.
"…It's me."
That slightly irritated but familiar voice came from outside.
Eriri?
Seiji raised an eyebrow, finally tearing his gaze away from the phone. "Come in."
"Sorry for intruding."
The door opened, and a slim figure stepped in.
A blonde girl stood in the doorway, holding a plastic bag in one hand. Her fair face was flushed red, like a ripe apple. Her emerald-green eyes darted about nervously like a startled fawn, unable to meet his gaze.
The sight made Seiji pause for a moment.
"Is there something you need, Izumi-sensei?" he asked with a teasing smile.
"It's… it's all your fault!"
That one word—"sensei"—was enough to make Eriri's whole body tremble, nearly bristling like an angry cat.
She thrust the bag forward, speaking in a tone that was equal parts shame and defiance. "Those things you wanted… those weird things! Fine, I'll do it! Just give me the rest of the Names!"
The moment she said it, it was as if she'd exhausted every ounce of courage she had left.
Her chest rose and fell rapidly as she stared at the floor, not daring to look up.
Seiji blinked, genuinely surprised.
He hadn't even started putting his plan into motion yet—and she came to him on her own?
Girl, you surrendered way too fast.
I thought you'd hold out for at least a few more days.
"Ahem. In that case…"
He put his phone down and cleared his throat, pretending to look serious. "Let's see how sincere you are, then."
His gaze swept lazily up and down her figure—from her messy golden hair, to her stiff posture, finally landing on the crumpled plastic bag in her hand.
Something inside looked… familiar.
"I get it!"
Eriri grit her teeth, her blush deepening until it spread all the way down her neck and ears.
She took a deep breath, as if steeling herself for something, then walked toward the bed, bag in hand.
With a rustle, she poured the contents out onto the sheets.
Several small, carefully chosen items fell out.
Seiji's eyes lit up instantly.
Every one of them was something he liked—a few of his favorite little "toys."
He hadn't expected the golden retriever to remember them all so clearly.
He gave her a meaningful look, one that seemed to say, "You talk big, but your body remembers everything."
The way she trembled from embarrassment, that stubborn defiance on the verge of tears—it stirred a deep sense of satisfaction within him.
Eriri took another deep breath and began arranging the items one by one, following his preferences as she remembered them.
Her trembling fingers first picked up the heart-shaped gel nipple covers. She bit her lip, glancing at Seiji, who was watching her with obvious amusement. With fumbling movements, she reached up to unbutton her blouse, her face burning hotter with each button that came undone. When her bra was exposed, she hesitated—but then unclasped it, letting it fall.
Her hands shook as she peeled the backing off the first cover. The cool gel made her flinch when it touched her sensitive skin. She pressed it on, smoothing out the edges, feeling the adhesive seal against her. Then the second one. The heart shapes left almost nothing to imagination, and the way they accentuated rather than concealed made her want to disappear.
Next was the vibrating ball.
This one required her to... she couldn't even think the words without her mind going blank from shame.
Seiji said nothing, just watched, and that somehow made it worse.
Eriri's hands moved to her skirt, sliding it down her legs along with her panties. She stepped out of them, now bare from the waist down except for her unbuttoned blouse. She picked up the small pink device with trembling fingers—it was no bigger than a large marble, with a thin retrieval cord.
She brought it between her legs, trying not to think about how Seiji's eyes tracked every movement. The ball was slightly cool against her pussy lips. Taking a shaky breath, she pressed it inside her entrance, feeling the intrusion—foreign yet somehow familiar from all those previous times. Her walls squeezed around it as it slipped deeper. Her legs nearly gave out at the sensation. The cord dangled between her thighs, and she quickly tucked it discretely.
Finally... the tail.
Eriri stared at the fluffy appendage attached to its plug, her face impossibly red. This was the most degrading one. The one that turned her into nothing more than a pet.
She'd need to... bend over. Present herself.
Her pride screamed in protest, but her body moved on autopilot—too many times going through this routine had trained her. She turned away from Seiji, bracing her hands on the bed, and bent at the waist. The position left her ass completely exposed and vulnerable.
With one hand, she reached back, guiding the plug to her asshole. It was already lubricated—she'd prepared it beforehand in the bathroom, unable to bear doing that part in front of him.
She pressed the tip against her rear entrance. It breached her, and she gasped at the stretch. Slowly, agonizingly, she worked it deeper into her ass, feeling every millimeter of the intrusion as it filled and stretched her. Her other hand gripped the sheets, knuckles white.
When the widest part pushed through and the plug settled fully inside, held in place by her body's resistance, Eriri let out a choked whimper. The fluffy golden tail now sprouted from behind her, swaying with every tiny movement.
She stayed there for a moment, bent over and panting, trying to adjust to the overwhelming fullness.
By the time she straightened up and turned back to face Seiji, she could barely stand. The shame was overwhelming; she was dizzy with it. Every movement made her acutely aware of what was inside her.
Head bowed, she stood before Seiji, hands folded neatly in front of her, and bowed deeply.
"M-Master… I'm… ready…"
"Good, good."
Seiji grinned, watching her with obvious amusement.
Eriri blushed even deeper, then knelt obediently before him.
She'd drawn and seen poses like this countless times before—but doing it herself was a whole different level of humiliation.
"Not bad. You're getting into the right mindset," Seiji said, nodding approvingly. "The Names for the next five chapters are ready. They're on the desk."
Hearing that, Eriri felt both relieved and exasperated.
Relieved because she could finally hand something in to her editor, Yamada Aki, and keep Anohana running again.
Exasperated because—of course—this jerk had everything prepared already. He'd just been waiting for her to crawl to him!
Seiji caught the flicker of emotion on her face and raised a brow. "Hm? What's wrong? Not satisfied~?"
"N-no!" she forced out a stiff smile, then lowered her head and got to work serving him.
"Very good."
Seiji praised her cheerfully as he picked up the remote and pressed the start button.
…
…
The next afternoon, Eriri dragged her sore body out of bed, yawning as she faxed Seiji's completed Names to Yamada Aki.
When Yamada read them, her face lit up like a sunburst.
"This is it! This is the feeling I've been looking for!" She slammed her palm on the desk, startling her coworkers.
She didn't care about the stares. She immediately called Eriri.
"Izumi-sensei! I got the Names!" Yamada's voice was full of delight. "As expected of the original creator—this quality, this emotional impact—it's perfect! Not a single thing needs changing! Thank you so much!"
"Haha, no problem…" Eriri forced a laugh, her tone dry.
If only Yamada knew how much she'd suffered to deliver those five chapters…
And the thought that she might have to keep suffering like that from now on made her want to cry. Since when did drawing manga require sacrificing your soul and body?!
"Oh, right, Izumi-sensei."
After the usual praise, Yamada suddenly shifted tone, asking something Eriri didn't expect. "Even though everything's fine now, I'm still a little concerned. May I speak directly with your partner—the story writer?"
"Huh? Why?" Eriri's heart skipped a beat.
Yamada's explanation was professional and polite. "As the editor, I think it's important to understand the authors I work with. It helps me do my job better if I can communicate with both sides of the team."
Her tone was sincere, the mark of a responsible editor.
"Don't worry, Yamada-san! Everything's totally fine now!" Eriri puffed out her flat chest proudly, voice rising with false confidence. "I promise this won't happen again!"
After all, she'd sold herself last night. How could anything possibly go wrong now?!
The thought made her want to cry again. Her fleeting confidence wilted instantly.
"But I'd still feel better if I spoke with him," Yamada pressed gently but firmly. "Please, Izumi-sensei—just indulge my curiosity, okay?"
"But he's… not the type who likes dealing with outsiders," Eriri muttered, remembering Seiji's warning about keeping his identity hidden.
"Then I'll leave convincing him to you." Yamada's voice turned serious, almost commanding. "Izumi-sensei, I'll give you three days. If I can't talk to him by then, I'll have no choice but to fly to Kyoto and visit in person."
Then—click.
The call ended abruptly.
Eriri stared at her phone for several seconds before shouting, "Wait—why'd she hang up?!"
She had a terrible feeling and immediately dashed out of her studio to find Seiji.
He was lounging on the living room sofa, scrolling through takeout options on his phone.
"This is bad! Seiji, something huge happened!" Eriri rushed over and repeated Yamada's demand.
"Oh, she wants to talk to me?"
Seiji didn't even look up, casually browsing lunch menus.
"Yes! So please, I'm begging you—"
"I'm a fair man," Seiji cut her off smoothly. "Straightforward terms. No cheating."
Eriri shot him a glare full of disgust.
Here we go again!
"What do you want this time?" she said warily, stepping back and folding her arms defensively.
"Nothing much." He smiled faintly, eyes glinting. "I've just been feeling nostalgic for one of Kashiwagi Eiri-sensei's early works. I was hoping you could help me 'revisit' it."
"Revisit?" Eriri frowned in confusion. "If you want to read my old works, the drafts are in my studio. You can look whenever you want."
"No." Seiji shook his head slowly, his tone taking on a teasing edge. "I want Kashiwagi Eiri-sensei herself to help me 'revisit' it. For example… your debut piece, The Night the Thief Broke Into the Girl's Room."
He emphasized "yourself" and "revisit," and Eriri's face instantly turned scarlet.
Of course she remembered that story.
It was a simple one—a high school girl living alone wakes up in the middle of the night to find a thief breaking in. Terrified, she pretends to stay asleep. The thief, noticing her beauty and delicate figure beneath the blanket, starts harboring wicked thoughts.
The girl is awake the whole time, terrified of being discovered, enduring the humiliation and fear in silence.
That was the hook of the story—the unbearable tension between fear, shame, and forced composure.
And now, this bastard wanted her to play that girl?!
Her brain went blank, her whole body flushing hot. Shame, disbelief—and a faint, unwanted thrill—rose within her.
"You—what the hell is wrong with you?! Pervert! Degenerate!" she shouted, cheeks burning, glaring at him.
But her voice trembled, soft and weak—like a kitten swatting with its paws.
Seiji leaned back lazily on the sofa, smiling. "So? Is that a yes or no?"
Eriri froze.
The smug look on his face made her blood boil.
Damn it. Caught again.
She turned her head away, gritting her teeth. "…Fine."
After all, she'd already done the master-and-maid thing last night. Compared to that, thief and sleeping girl wasn't that much worse… right?
"Excellent!" Seiji's grin widened into something dazzling. "I'm looking forward to tonight's 'script,' Kashiwagi Eiri-sensei."
He deliberately emphasized her pen name.
That "Kashiwagi Eiri-sensei" brushed against her like a feather, sending shivers down her spine.
"Shut up!" she snapped, shooting him a deadly glare.
…
Lunch that day was torture for Eriri.
Seiji, on the other hand, was in great spirits, eating heartily while watching her squirm with embarrassment.
Afterward, Eriri handed him her phone.
"Call Yamada-san already… you promised."
"Relax. I never break my promises."
Seiji took the phone and dialed in front of her.
As soon as the call connected, his whole demeanor changed.
The lazy air vanished, replaced by calm professionalism and quiet authority.
"Hello, Editor Yamada? This is the writer and storyboarder for the Izumi Ei team," he said in a deep, steady voice.
"That's him!" Eriri confirmed from beside him.
On the other end, Yamada was briefly stunned, then burst out, "Ah! You're the other author?! Hello, hello! I'm Yamada Aki, the editor in charge!"
"Nice to meet you." Seiji's tone was smooth and unhurried. "I heard you had some concerns?"
"Oh, it's nothing serious! I'm so sorry—it was my mistake," Yamada said quickly. "It's just that the latest Name felt so different from before, I got a little worried…"
"I understand." Seiji cut in gently, his voice firm and reassuring. "That was just Izumi-sensei trying to tackle a personal weak point. I fully supported it. But rest assured—our partnership is perfectly stable. I'll continue leading the story direction to maintain Anohana's quality. You can count on us."
"I see… that's wonderful!" Yamada sighed in relief, her tone almost reverent. "You're incredible, sensei! I completely understand now—I'll never doubt your collaboration again!"
"Good to hear."
"Oh, but—wait a second," Yamada said suddenly. "Maybe it's just me, but your voice sounds really familiar… I feel like I've heard it somewhere before…"
Eriri's heart nearly stopped.
Seiji, however, remained perfectly calm. "Is that so? I guess I just have one of those common voices. Anyway, if there's nothing else, we'll get back to work—lots to discuss about the next arc."
"Ah—of course! Sorry for taking up your time! Goodbye, sensei!"
The call ended.
Seiji handed the phone back to Eriri.
====
You can read up to chapter 110 on patreon.com/NiaXD.