Pure Route in a Netorare School

I walked slowly down the street, gripping the strap of my bag tighter with every step.

Step by step.

Kurosaki-kun’s house was already close.

But for some reason, the nearer I got, the faster my heart beat.

“Calm down, Rin.”

“It’s just a favor. Nothing more.”

I let out a quiet sigh.

Ever since the conversation on the rooftop, I still felt off-balance. Just remembering my own words made me wince.

“Couldn’t you give the shares back?”

I squeezed my eyes shut.

— God, what an idiot I am…

Why did I say it like that?

Why couldn’t I just ask normally?

I hadn’t come to demand anything. Dad had drilled it into me before school:

“Ask nicely.”

“No pressure.”

“After everything Kurosaki has done for our family, we don’t have the right to threaten him.”

And I… did the complete opposite.

His face flashed in front of my eyes again.

First — surprise.

Then — the real expression.

Then… disappointment.

And that look.

Calm.

Cold.

As if a wall had suddenly risen between us.

The memory alone made my chest ache.

“I don’t want…”

“I don’t want Kurosaki-kun to look at me like that.”

Luckily, I still managed to explain myself.

He smiled again — just a small, quiet smile.

But it was enough. I finally breathed properly.

…

I looked ahead once more.

“Now everything’s honest.”

He returns the shares.

I help him.

A favor for a favor.

No debts. No one owes anyone anything.

Logical. Fair.

And yet…

A strange, restless excitement wouldn’t leave me.

The problem wasn’t the massage itself.

I wasn’t afraid of that.

Memories of our last photoshoot kept surfacing on their own.

How I lay on his back while he calmly kept doing push-ups.

How I felt the heat of his body through the thin sports fabric.

How afterward he picked me up like I weighed nothing.

How he carefully draped a towel over my shoulders.

And not once…

Not a single word.

Not a single glance.

He never tried to take advantage of how flustered I was.

I bit my lip softly.

“He’s… too good.”

And that was exactly what scared me the most.

When Hayato-kun was nearby…

I felt warm. Calm. I just wanted to walk beside him and smile.

But next to Kurosaki-kun…

Everything felt different.

Every time my heart started racing.

Every time I had to watch my own emotions.

And every time it became frightening.

Frightening not because of him.

Frightening because of myself.

“What if…”

I shook my head sharply.

— No.

I can’t.

I can’t even let myself think about it.

Today I’m just helping him.

He’s practicing.

We’ll talk.

And that’s all.

I can keep myself under control…

Right?

…

Why did that certainty keep shrinking?

I stopped in front of his gate.

For a few seconds I just stood there, staring at the tall fence, the neat garden, and the big modern house that looked so new the path itself seemed too clean.

I took a deep breath.

“Stay calm.”

“No weird thoughts.”

“Just go in.”

“Just keep the promise.”

I pressed the doorbell.

Footsteps answered almost immediately.

The gate opened.

Kurosaki-kun stood there.

He looked at me… and smiled his usual smile.

Soft. Warm. Without the coldness from the rooftop.

I exhaled without meaning to.

“So…”

“He’s not angry at me.”

The tension that had been sitting in my chest the whole way eased a little.

— Hello, Sakamoto-san.

— H-hello, Kurosaki-kun.

My voice still trembled — just a little. He either didn’t notice or pretended not to.

— Come in.

He stepped aside.

I walked into the courtyard and couldn’t help looking around.

A pool. A garage. A small training area. A garden. A terrace.

The property was large, but not so huge that the house felt empty. On the contrary — it felt… cozy.

I nodded slowly.

— Nice place.

Kurosaki-kun stopped and turned to me. For a few seconds he just looked at me.

— You’re the first person who reacted so calmly.

I raised an eyebrow.

He grinned.

— Rich girl.

And suddenly stuck his tongue out at me.

I froze.

…Then I burst out laughing. I hadn’t expected that from him at all. Usually he was calm, collected — too mature for our age. Right now he just looked like a normal guy.

— I’m not a rich girl!

I said it with a bit of irritation, but I couldn’t hide the smile anymore.

Kurosaki-kun turned and walked toward the house.

— Said the girl who gets driven to school every day with a personal chauffeur.

— That doesn’t count!

— Of course it doesn’t.

— Kurosaki-kun!

He chuckled quietly. I caught up and gave him a light poke in the shoulder — or tried to. He didn’t even budge, just looked down at me.

— That all you got?

I laughed again.

— You’re so annoying.

— And you’re still a rich girl.

— Not true.

We went inside still bickering, and I suddenly caught myself thinking…

I felt light. Almost like yesterday with Hayato-kun.

But different.

With Hayato-kun it was quiet warmth.

With Kurosaki-kun… I kept waiting for him to say or do something unexpected. And for some reason that made me smile.

We went up to the second floor. He stopped at one of the doors.

— We’re here.

He opened it.

I stepped inside… and froze.

The room was completely ready.

In the center stood a professional massage table. Beside it — a neat little table with towels and several bottles. Along the wall were light panels, cameras, tripods. A little farther away — a big wardrobe and boxes of branded sportswear.

I looked around slowly.

— You…

I turned to him.

— You prepared all of this in advance?

Kurosaki-kun shrugged.

— I like being ready.

Of course. That was exactly the answer I expected.

But hearing it from him made something inside me feel uneasy again. Not scared — just… I suddenly understood clearly that he had really been waiting for me.

— Listen…

Kurosaki-kun glanced around the room.

— I doubt they’d let you set up a full studio in your traditional house.

I blinked.

— Studio?

— With lights, cameras, clothes, everything.

He pointed at the equipment.

— So you can film content here whenever you need to.

For a second my heart seemed to skip.

I looked at him in silence. He said it so simply, as if it were nothing special. But in reality he had thought everything through — about my family, about the rules at home, about what might make me uncomfortable.

“What a…”

“Thoughtful guy.”

I already had my own little studio in one of the family offices. Everything I needed was there. But for some reason I couldn’t bring myself to say that — and I couldn’t refuse either.

— Thank you, Kurosaki-kun.

He smiled politely.

— You’re welcome.

That smile warmed me again.

But almost immediately his expression turned serious.

— One more thing.

I tensed.

— What?

He pointed at one of the cameras.

— I’d like to record our massage sessions.

I froze.

— Record…?

— Yes.

He raised both hands right away, as if trying to reassure me before I could panic.

— But don’t worry. Both your face and mine will be covered. I have a separate channel where I post this kind of material. Complete anonymity. No one shows their face.

I looked at the camera again. Excitement rose even though everything sounded reasonable. The thought that other people might see the recording made my fingers clench.

Kurosaki-kun noticed immediately.

— If you don’t want to, we’ll skip it.

He didn’t wait for an answer. He stepped toward the camera and reached for the mount.

— I’ll just take it down.

— No!

It came out too sharp. He stopped and looked at me in surprise. I felt my cheeks burning.

— It’s fine. Really. This… is the least I can do.

He studied me for a few seconds, as if checking whether I really meant it.

— You’re sure?

I nodded.

— Yes.

Only then did he smile again.

— Good. Later I’ll send you all the footage — already with face filters. You can check it yourself and make sure everything’s anonymous.

“He even thought of that…”

I exhaled quietly. It really did feel calmer that way.

Kurosaki-kun went to the wardrobe and took out a neatly folded set of clothes.

— Here’s your outfit.

He laid it on the edge of the massage table.

— Change and lie down. When you’re ready, just call me.

He headed for the door. Before leaving he turned once more.

— I won’t come in without permission.

And closed the door behind him.

I was alone.

For a few seconds I just looked at the sports outfit, then at the massage table, the cameras, the closed door.

“Calm down, Rin.”

“You agreed to this yourself.”

I picked up the clothes. The fabric was soft and obviously expensive. Of course — even Kurosaki-kun’s filming clothes were chosen perfectly.

I sighed quietly.

“Main thing is not to start acting weird again.”

But right now my heart was beating even faster.

I slowly unfolded the outfit… and froze.

It wasn’t an ordinary sports outfit at all.

A light, almost weightless sleeveless top.

And very short string panties.

The fabric was soft but so thin it was almost see-through in the light.

“This…”

My face started burning. I glanced quickly at the door — stupid, but I couldn’t help it. The door stayed closed. Kurosaki-kun kept his word.

I swallowed and started changing.

The top fit tightly. Too tightly. It barely covered the lower part of my breasts, pushing them up and together. The deep neckline showed almost the entire valley between them. Even the smallest movement made the fabric stretch and emphasize their shape and size.

I carefully adjusted the edge. It didn’t help much.

And the bottom…

I looked down.

The string panties were even more revealing. A thin strip of fabric barely covered anything from behind. Most of my butt was exposed — only thin side ties and a tiny triangular piece in front.

For a few seconds I just stood there, not knowing where to put my hands.

Then I slowly walked to the big mirror on the wall.

I looked at my reflection… and immediately looked away. My cheeks were burning even hotter.

“I…”

“I look…”

Even Hayato-kun had never seen me like this. We had never been this close. And now I was standing almost naked in something that looked more like underwear than sportswear.

I forced myself to look again.

My breasts looked even bigger and heavier in this top. My butt looked round and completely bare from behind.

I turned sideways slowly and bit my lip without meaning to.

“As if I’m…”

“Completely naked.”

My hands moved on their own to cover myself, but I stopped them.

I slowly lowered them.

“No.”

“I agreed to this myself.”

“This is part of the deal.”

A favor for a favor.

Everything honest. Everything normal.

I took a deep breath, trying to calm my racing heart. It didn’t really work.

“I can do this.”

“It’s just a massage.”

I stepped away from the mirror and walked to the table. Every step felt strangely loud.

I lay down slowly on my stomach, arms along my sides. My face sank into the soft surface. Cool air touched almost my entire back, butt, and hips. Goosebumps ran over my skin.

For a few seconds I lay completely still, trying to calm down, trying not to think about how I looked right now, trying to convince myself that everything was completely normal.

My heart wasn’t listening.

Finally I gathered enough courage.

— Kurosaki-kun…

My voice came out too quiet. I swallowed and tried again, louder:

— I’m ready.

The words hung in the empty room.

I closed my eyes and gripped the edges of the table tighter.

“Just don’t blush so hard…”

“Just stay in control…”

It was still quiet behind the door.

But even now — lying here almost naked and waiting for him to walk in — I already knew:

this was going to be much harder than I had thought.

I heard the door open quietly.

My heart dropped.

I couldn’t see him, but I immediately pictured Kurosaki-kun standing in the doorway, looking at me — at my almost bare back, at how the tiny top barely covered my breasts pressed against the table, at how the strings left my butt completely exposed.

Just the thought made my breathing heavier.

And suddenly another scene flashed in my mind.

After that photoshoot.

How I came home, locked myself in my room, and — trembling — slid my hand between my legs, imagining those were his hands. Imagining he was looking at me the same way he had then. Imagining he was coming closer…

I exhaled sharply and pushed the thought away.

“No.”

“Not now.”

“Not right now.”

For a few seconds the room was silent.

Then I heard his voice.

— You’re beautiful, Sakamoto-san.

He said it quietly. Calmly. Like it was the most natural thing in the world.

But those simple words made everything inside me clench. My heart started pounding even harder.

I didn’t lift my head. I only muttered, irritated and shaky:

— Pervert…

Kurosaki-kun chuckled quietly — low and calm. For some reason that only made it hotter.

— Nothing to be embarrassed about.

He paused for a second.

— You’re very feminine and beautiful.

I gripped the table tighter.

— Your breasts are pressed so hard against the table right now that even through the fabric you can see how heavy and firm they are.

My face burned.

He continued in the same calm tone:

— And your butt…

— It’s perfectly round and soft, and these strings show off the shape perfectly.

— You look incredibly seductive.

A hot wave spread through my whole body.

No guy had ever talked to me like that. None had ever described my body so directly and calmly. Even Hayato-kun. Especially Hayato-kun.

Then a light teasing note appeared in his voice.

— Only someone like Hayato-kun could miss it.

Something twisted unpleasantly inside me. Too accurate. Too painful.

Hayato-kun really did seem not to notice… or pretended not to.

I didn’t answer. I just gripped the table even harder.

A pleasant lavender scent gradually filled the room — my favorite.

I took a deeper breath without meaning to.

— I’m lighting a few aroma candles, — Kurosaki-kun said calmly. — I want you to feel as relaxed as possible. So nothing distracts you.

I heard the quiet crack of a match, then another. The lavender scent grew stronger, softer, deeper. It slowly filled the room and made my body relax a little — but at the same time I tensed more from his mere presence.

I lay face down. Didn’t move. Listened to his footsteps. Felt my heart still racing.

“I can get through this…”

“I have to.”

But he hadn’t even touched me yet, and I already knew keeping control was getting harder by the second.

I heard him step closer. Even without seeing him I felt his presence — that huge, almost two-meter silhouette looming over me. It made me feel hot.

His hands lowered onto my back.

Large. Heavy. Hot.

His fingers began to slowly but firmly knead the muscles along my spine.

I let out a quiet sound — somewhere between a sigh and a moan.

— Shh, — he said calmly. — Your shoulders and back are very tense. Carrying a chest that size is serious work for your spine. You keep your muscles tight all the time without even noticing.

His fingers pressed harder, working every centimeter. I felt the tension being squeezed out of the muscles.

But along with it, something else rose in my body. Every press sent a response downward — into my chest, my stomach, lower.

I gripped the edges of the table tighter.

“Don’t moan…”

But when he ran his large fingers along the sides of my shoulder blades and pressed a little lower, a quiet, trembling sigh escaped me. My toes curled hard against the thin fabric of the top and the table beneath. From the strong pressure on my back, my breasts were pressed firmly into the surface. I felt them spread and my nipples rub against the fabric with every movement of his hands.

“Damn…”

I tried to breathe evenly, but my body betrayed me.

It grew warm and wet between my legs. I felt the string panties slowly soaking through.

“Curse my body…”

I tried not to move, but every new press made me lift my hips slightly and lower them again.

He suddenly eased the pressure on my back a little, then his hands slid lower.

— Your buttocks are tense too, — he noted quietly.

And immediately his large palms settled on my butt. He began to knead and massage firmly, confidently. His fingers sank deep into the soft flesh, spread my cheeks, squeezed them again. From those movements even more wetness flowed between my legs. The warm moisture soaked the strings and began to drip slowly down the inner sides of my thighs, leaving a wet trail on the table.

“I… stained it…”

I tried to lift myself again.

— Stop… I…

But his other hand easily, almost without effort, pressed me back down. My breasts were forced into the surface, my nipples rubbing hard against the fabric. I couldn’t hold back a quiet moan.

— You’ve always been a princess, — he continued calmly, without easing the pressure. — You carried a huge responsibility as the family heir. You kept your back straight, controlled every movement, every emotion.

He paused briefly.

— I’m freeing you from that.

His hands returned to my butt and massaged even harder, deeper. His fingers squeezed, spread, ran over the most sensitive spots. I felt completely at the mercy of his hands. No one had ever dared to treat me like this. No one had dared to press me, knead me, command me. And here… here I couldn’t resist. And it was… frighteningly good.

Something hot and uncontrollable built inside me.

My legs began to tremble finely.

I tried to hold on, but my body no longer obeyed.

Every strong press of his fingers on my butt went straight to the very bottom of my stomach. Moisture flowed even stronger. I felt it dripping down my thighs and staining the table under me.

And at some point I couldn’t hold back anymore.

The orgasm hit suddenly and hard. I arched sharply, my breasts pressed deep into the table, my nipples aching. My legs trembled so violently I couldn’t stop them. A long, shaking moan tore from my throat — one I could no longer hold in. Everything inside me contracted and pulsed in waves. Sweat covered me completely; my hair stuck to my neck and temples. My hips twitched involuntarily, and between my legs it was so wet I felt the moisture running down the inner sides of my thighs.

I lay there breathing heavily, still trembling, unable to lift my head.

Kurosaki-kun didn’t remove his hands. He simply continued to massage my butt slowly and gently now, as if waiting for me to come back to myself.

I couldn’t say a word. I only breathed quietly, shakily, feeling small aftershocks still running through my body.

He easily lifted me with one hand, supporting my back and under my hips. I felt as if I weighed nothing to him.

The next moment I was in his arms.

Face to face.

My legs still trembled finely, and between them the hot, thick moisture continued to drip down my inner thighs and fall.

I slowly raised my gaze.

He was so close.

His face…

Beautiful. Masculine. Sharp cheekbones. Strong jaw. Dark eyes that now looked straight at me calmly.

Just that look made me feel hot and wet inside again.

“What a…”

“Handsome guy…”

But almost immediately a new wave of shame crashed over me.

“What am I doing…”

“I just came from his hands.”

“I’m lying in his arms almost naked…”

“Flowing like I’m desperate…”

“And I can’t even stop my legs from shaking.”

My hips twitched again.

Another wave hit unexpectedly.

I came right on his hand — hot liquid burst out in strong, abundant spurts, flooding his palm and wrist. I couldn’t hold back a quiet, trembling moan. My nipples kept leaking, dripping down his fingers and further.

“No…”

“Again…”

“I can’t control myself…”

He only smiled slightly.

And said quietly:

— Pervert.

From that single word everything inside me flipped.

I felt ashamed… and unbearably hot at the same time.

No one had ever called me that.

No one had ever held me like that.

As if I already belonged to him.

He carefully laid me back on the massage table — now face up.

I was breathing heavily. I didn’t take my eyes off him.

His dark T-shirt was wet — from sweat and from my juices. The fabric clung to his body, almost transparent. I could clearly see the defined lines of his chest, his abs, the oblique muscles of his stomach.

All of it so close. So real.

“He’s completely…”

“Soaked in my juices…”

He calmly looked at my heavily rising and falling breasts.

— Looks like your breasts are tense too.

He spoke in the same even voice, as if explaining something ordinary.

— Because they’re large.

His large, hot palms settled on my breasts.

I shuddered involuntarily.

He began to knead them slowly but confidently through the thin top. His fingers sank deep into the heavy, soft flesh, squeezed, kneaded, lifted. Every time he ran his large fingers over my nipples, a sharp, almost painful wave of pleasure shot through me.

“Ah…”

“My nipples…”

“They’re so sensitive…”

I gripped the edges of the table tighter.

My nipples had been hard for a long time, and every time his fingers brushed or lightly twisted them through the fabric I felt myself getting wet again between my legs. The moisture kept flowing — now abundantly — dripping down my buttocks and leaving a big wet spot beneath me.

“I can’t hold back…”

“If he keeps going like this…”

“I’ll come again…”

His hands moved confidently, strongly, measured. He kneaded my breasts as if trying to squeeze every bit of tension out of them. His fingers either squeezed the whole breast or focused on the nipples — pinching lightly, pulling, twisting them through the thin fabric. Every gesture made me sob quietly and lift my hips.

“Ah…”

“I feel…”

“Something’s coming…”

“No…”

“Not now…”

“I don’t want to again…”

But my body no longer listened.

The more he kneaded and touched my breasts, the stronger the tension grew low in my stomach. I felt my clit pulsing and throbbing. My hips began to twitch on their own.

“I…”

“I’m about to…”

And when he squeezed both breasts hard at the same time and ran his large fingers straight over my hard, sensitive nipples, I couldn’t hold back.

My body arched sharply. My hips jerked upward hard. My legs trembled so violently I couldn’t stop them. A loud, broken moan escaped me. And suddenly I came with a squirt — a hot, powerful stream sprayed out strongly and abundantly, right onto his T-shirt, soaking the already wet fabric even more. I convulsed, my breasts heaving under his hands, my hips twitching, and I kept flowing in waves.

“Again…”

“I came again…”

“So shameful…”

“So wet…”

“He’s completely covered in my juices…”

The second wave hit almost immediately, without a break.

I came again — quieter this time but no less intensely — continuing to drench him. My whole body was sweaty, my hair stuck to my face and neck, my legs still trembled finely even as the orgasm began to fade. I lay there breathing heavily and shakily, feeling the hot liquid running down my thighs and his large hands still resting on my breasts.

I couldn’t look up at him.

I only trembled quietly, burning with shame, still feeling the last fading waves of pleasure spreading through me.

After I came once more, Kurosaki-kun softened his movements. His large palms stayed on my breasts, but now he massaged them much more gently — almost tenderly. His fingers slowly kneaded the tense muscles, smoothed the skin, lightly stroked my still-sensitive, hard nipples.

I sighed quietly.

Gradually my body began to relax.

Not long ago it had been trembling and disobedient. Now it felt heavy. Obedient. Every muscle seemed to slowly release the built-up tension.

I lay with my eyes closed, feeling a pleasant fatigue spreading through me. Even the shame gradually receded. Only warmth remained.

And one more feeling.

Strange. Unfamiliar.

Next to him…

I somehow felt safe.

In his large hands…

As if nothing bad could happen to me now.

That thought scared me even more than everything that had just happened.

He continued for a few more minutes — unhurried, calm. His hands slid lower, over my stomach, hips, and finally stroked my butt lightly, almost gently.

I didn’t resist. I only breathed quietly.

— That’s enough for today, — he said softly.

I didn’t have time to answer.

He easily picked me up in his arms again, as if I weighed nothing. My legs hung down. My head rested on his shoulder by itself.

I felt the warmth of his body, the scent of his skin, and the light lavender aroma still lingering in the room.

For some reason, right now I felt surprisingly calm.

He carried me very carefully, as if afraid of causing any extra discomfort. From that, something quietly tightened inside me again.

“He’s…”

“Such a caring guy…”

He carried me to the bathroom and gently set me on my feet beside the shower.

I swayed a little. My legs were still trembling.

He immediately steadied me by the shoulder so I wouldn’t lose my balance. Only after making sure I was standing steadily did he calmly remove his hand.

— Wash up.

— I’ll wait outside.

True to his earlier promise, he left right away and quietly closed the door behind him.

I was alone.

For a few seconds I just stood there.

Then I slowly looked at my reflection in the large mirror.

My face was red. My hair was messy. My body was sweaty and marked with traces of his hands. Between my legs it was still wet and hot.

I silently stepped into the shower and turned on the water.

Warm water poured gently over my skin, washing away the sweat, my juices, and the traces of his touches.

But the thoughts…

Those couldn’t be washed away.

“What did I just do…”

I came twice.

From his hands.

From the way he kneaded and pressed me.

I moaned. I flowed. I even drenched him with my own wetness.

And the scariest part…

I liked it.

Very much.

“I…”

“Pervert…”

I slowly pressed my forehead to the cool tile and closed my eyes.

“Hayato-kun…”

“If he ever found out…”

Just the thought made something twist painfully inside me.

But at the same time, somewhere very deep, a strange, forbidden pleasure stirred.

No one had ever treated me like this.

No one had dared to press me, command me, make me come.

But Kurosaki-kun…

He did it so easily. So confidently. As if he already knew exactly what he was doing.

I slowly ran my hand between my legs and shuddered involuntarily. My body was still very sensitive.

“If he keeps going like this…”

“I won’t be able to stop.”

I stood there for a while, took a deep breath, and almost fearfully admitted to myself:

“I already…”

“Don’t want to stop…”

I stayed under the warm water for a long time.

It washed the traces from my body.

But it couldn’t wash away what had already happened inside me.

When I finally came out, wrapped in a large soft towel, I already understood…

This was only the beginning.

And I was no longer sure I wanted it to ever end.