No! Please no! Sakiko screamed inside.
She knew that secret. A constitution passed down through the Toyokawa bloodline, too shameful to speak of. Once reaching a certain peak of pleasure, her body would secrete a special, fragrantly sweet nectar. That nectar not only restored the user's energy rapidly but would cause her to sink completely into desire, transforming into a lustful creature that knew only hunger.
That was her final dignity. The last line separating "reluctant plaything" from "willing slave." If he discovered it, if he fully awakened it, she would truly have nothing left.
No. Absolutely not. Desperate survival instincts kicked her frozen brain back into motion.
Calm down, Sakiko Toyokawa! He's only guessing! He must be bluffing! I've hidden it so well, always cleaning up immediately afterward. He can't have proof! As long as I deny everything, as long as I make up some excuse...
Body wash! Yes! I'll say it's the new body wash! That limited edition fragrance really does smell unusual!
Sakiko drew a deep breath, forcing down her trembling with every ounce of willpower.
She lifted her head, squeezing out a pale, confused expression, her misty eyes filled with innocence and bewilderment. "Seiji... is there some misunderstanding?" Her voice still shook, but now carried a note of forced composure and hurt. "The scent... might be my new body wash... As for my body... I'm just pushing through. Actually, every time is really hard."
She looked at him, eyes pitiful as a frightened fawn. She was gambling. Betting Seiji had no evidence. Betting her performance would fool him.
What she saw was his smile growing more and more amused.
"Is that so?" he said softly. "Body wash, huh... Then let's verify that, shall we?"
Verify? Verify what? How? Sakiko dared not think, refused to imagine. But her body was more honest than her mind. Uncontrollable shivers ran from the base of her spine to the crown of her head, making her teeth chatter. That facade of composure crumbled instantly.
"Seiji..." Her voice trembled almost beyond recognition. "I... I'm telling the truth... really just... body wash..."
Seiji smiled. Without another word, his eyes simply indicated her black business suit. Not a single syllable, but the meaning was clearer than any command. Strip.
Sakiko stiffened. Slowly, she raised her hands and fumbled to undo the first button of her blouse. Then the second. The third. The silk slid down, revealing the black lace beneath and skin flushing pink with tension.
Next, the skirt's zipper. The faint sound was amplified in the silent study. The skirt pooled on the floor. Finally, those stockings sheathing her long legs. She bent over, slowly rolling the thin nylon from ankle to calf to thigh. The whole process was slow and mechanical, like a puppet numbly executing each humiliating command.
At last, nothing remained. She kept her head down, pale blue hair falling forward, hiding her expression. But her clenched fists and trembling shoulders betrayed her inner turmoil.
"Fujiwara-sensei..." Sakiko bit her lip, eyes averted, stubbornly repeating her script. "I... really am just unwell... not hiding anything..."
Her acting was clumsy. The tremor in her voice, the panic in her eyes, impossible to conceal. But this was her only defense, and she had to hold it.
"Is that so?" Seiji seemed completely unconcerned with her denials. He studied her body with the tone of one appraising art. "Still such a nice figure. Come here." He pointed at the massive executive desk made of solid ebony.
Sakiko's whole body jolted. She looked at that cold, hard desktop, and shame more intense than before swept through her. She didn't move.
"Hmm?" Just one syllable, yet it shattered the tiny bit of resistance she had gathered.
Sakiko closed her eyes and walked toward it step by step. The cold wood touched her skin, making her shiver uncontrollably. She lay across the desk and buried her face in her arms. If she couldn't see, couldn't hear, she could pretend none of this was happening.
Seiji circled behind her. His hands didn't immediately go where she'd dreaded. Instead, they landed on her back. His fingers, slightly cool, traced down her spinal curve, one inch at a time. Over her waist, her thighs, her calves. Each touch sent tremors through her, but in her heart she quietly let out a breath of relief.
It's okay... he didn't go there... he must be bluffing! He doesn't really know! If I just endure this... That thought slightly calmed her racing heart. She even mustered strength to continue her performance. "See..." Her voice was muffled from lying face-down. "There's really... nothing... I'm not lying..."
Seiji said nothing. His fingers continued their unhurried exploration. He was eliminating, using touch to rule out wrong answers. Patient. First sealing all escape routes, tightening the circle, only then delivering the killing blow.
After his hands had inspected nearly every region of her body, Sakiko's suspended heart was almost ready to settle back in her chest. She even began to think she might slip through.
Then Seiji straightened, walked to the other side of the study, and pulled over a soft armchair. "Get up." He patted the chair.
Sakiko lifted her head, confusion in her vacant eyes. Over? Just... over? She could hardly believe it. She walked to the chair and lay down on it. The soft leather cradled her, infinitely more comfortable than that hard desk. It gave her the illusion that the storm had passed. She even began thinking about how she'd later "apologize," admitting she'd been "unwell" but "stubborn," and putting this whole matter behind them.
Seiji sat on the chair's armrest and looked down at this naive girl who thought the game was over. The playful smile vanished from his face.
"Sakiko." He spoke slowly. "Game over."
His hand reached for her again. This time, his target was unmistakable. Precise. Bypassing all outer defenses, striking straight at her core.
Sakiko's body arched like she'd been electrocuted. A cry she couldn't suppress, edged with tears, tore from deep in her throat. "No... not... there..."
Her reason screamed, but her body gave the most honest response. A warm, tingling tide rose uncontrollably from deep in her belly. She knew what that was. The signal that the gates were about to open.
No! I can't let him discover this! Overwhelming terror eclipsed all shame. She began to struggle, thrashing uselessly, trying to escape that finger bringing both absolute terror and shameful pleasure.
"Seiji... please..." She abandoned all pretense. "I was wrong... please let me go..." Tears streamed from her eyes. "There's really nothing there... I'm so tired... please stop tormenting me..."
But Seiji Fujiwara was no normal man. Sakiko's tears and pleas were merely beautiful accompaniment to him. He leaned in, carefully observing her: crying, trembling, struggling, yet undeniably flushing with heat.
"I see..." He keenly detected it. The sweet, peculiar fragrance beginning to fill the air. The moisture deep within her body, stirring restlessly from his stimulation. "Tired?" He wiped the tears from her eyes, the gesture tender. But his voice was cold. "Strange. You look quite energetic to me right now."
His fingers suddenly increased pressure, changed angle, using a method she'd never experienced before, and pressed down hard.
"AAAAAAHHHHH!"
Sakiko's mind went blank. All the pleading, the bewilderment, gone. Replaced by horror and despair. The gates are opening!
She couldn't feel the chair's softness, couldn't feel the cold air. All she could feel was the deepest part of her body erupting. An unprecedented, terrifying energy exploded from that point, racing through her neural pathways, crashing through every limb.
The gates she'd guarded with every ounce of willpower had fallen. A warm, viscous liquid carrying an exotic sweet fragrance gushed uncontrollably from her body. The volume was staggering, instantly soaking the leather chair beneath her, trickling over the edges, dripping onto the expensive Persian rug.
A fragrance so rich it seemed unreal bloomed throughout the study. Cool, mellow, yet carrying a seductiveness that instantly awakened primal desire.
Sakiko seized up, then collapsed limply onto the chair as if every bone had been extracted. Those sapphire eyes lost all focus. Her lips parted slightly, a thread of saliva trailing from the corner of her mouth. It's over. Everything's over. Her final secret, her last dignity, completely exposed before this devil.
Seiji withdrew his finger, brought it to his nose, and inhaled lightly. That rich fragrance made him instantly alert.
"I knew it!" His eyes lit up with surprise, curiosity, and intense possessiveness. "So that's what it was. The Toyokawa bloodline actually hides something this good." He caressed her sweat-and-tear-streaked cheek. "Sakiko, you really are a treasure full of surprises."
Seiji hesitated no longer. He freed himself from his trousers, gripped her thighs, and drove into her in one brutal thrust.
Sakiko's scream tore through the study. Pain, shame, despair, all at once. She bit her lip hard, eyes squeezed shut, trying to resist the sensory assault. She wanted to endure, to detach as she had countless times before, treating her body as a shell. If she just survived this, it would all be over.
But she couldn't. As the nectar secreted, her body had transformed into something she didn't recognize. Impossibly sensitive. Each of Seiji's thrusts no longer brought simple pain and humiliation, but something mixed with it, intense, making her want to scream aloud. Pleasure. That pleasure crashed like a breached dam, flooding every nerve, destroying every shred of reason.
"No... mmh... ah..." She wanted to refuse, to curse. But what left her lips were honeyed moans that made even her own face burn. Her body was betraying her will. Her waist twisting unconsciously to match his rhythm. Her legs tightening around him involuntarily. And her insides erupted with unprecedented enthusiasm, clenching and squeezing around him with a greed that seemed to have a life of its own.
Seiji felt it too. Before, Sakiko had been exquisite, but always carried a trace of reluctant stiffness. But now, fully bloomed, her body was desperately milking him, every inch of her soaked and pulsing. The tightness, the warmth, the slickness, and that endless stream of nectar coating his cock and pooling on the leather beneath them.
He let out a satisfied groan and held nothing back. He pulled her hips to the edge of the chair and drove in deeper, setting a punishing rhythm. The study filled with nothing but the wet slap of flesh on flesh and Sakiko's gasps and cries.
"I can't... I'm... I'm going to break..." Her voice cracked. "Dying... really... going to die..."
Sakiko's consciousness had completely blurred. She no longer thought about who she was or what dignity meant. Her brain held only the most primal instinct: craving to be filled deeper, struck harder, completely claimed by this man. She wrapped her arms around Seiji's neck and pulled him closer, hips bucking up to meet every thrust, as if trying to merge him completely into her body.
He flipped her over, bent her across the armrest, and took her from behind. The new angle made her scream into the leather cushion, her fingers clawing at the fabric as he bottomed out with each stroke. Her nectar ran freely down her thighs, soaking everything it touched.
The pace built. Sakiko's cries dissolved into broken, rhythmic sounds that matched each impact. Her body shuddered and clenched around him as she came again, and again, each orgasm triggering a fresh flood of that sweet nectar that only made him harder, more relentless.
When Seiji finally finished, burying himself to the hilt and emptying inside her with a low growl, Sakiko's body was still twitching from the aftershocks.
The study was a disaster zone.
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