Pure Route in a Netorare School

— Master, feed me…

My own voice sounded unfamiliar.

Sultry.

Bold.

Obscenely coquettish.

For a moment I felt uneasy.

“What am I doing…?”

But I immediately pushed the thought away.

“What I want.”

The corner of Ren’s mouth lifted.

He didn’t comment on my pose or the sudden boldness. He simply took a small silver spoon, scooped some of the bluefin tuna tartare, added a thin slice of black truffle and a drop of thick sauce on top.

— Open your mouth.

I obeyed.

But when he brought the spoon closer, I suddenly wanted to do it not just obediently.

I leaned forward and greedily took the food from the spoon without looking away from him. At the same time I caught his wrist and pressed his hand against me so that it was trapped between my breasts. Soft, hot flesh closed around his hand.

I did it myself.

Not on command.

Simply because I wanted to feel him closer.

Ren’s gaze darkened.

That expression sent a hot shiver down my spine.

The tuna was cool and tender, almost melting on the tongue. First there was a light marine saltiness, then the rich nutty aroma of the truffle opened up, and at the end a delicate acidity of the sauce appeared. I chewed slowly, trying to taste every note.

I had never eaten anything like it before.

Ordinary food simply satisfied hunger.

This dish made me stop and listen to my own sensations.

— Delicious… — I exhaled.

— Enjoy it.

His voice sounded low and calm.

He didn’t remove his hand.

On the contrary, he turned his palm slightly, as if checking how boldly I would allow him to stay in that position.

I allowed it.

Ren scooped the next spoonful — now with a small drop of caviar and a thin petal of greens — and again raised it to my lips.

I accepted the offering more slowly this time.

His gaze never left my face.

It began to feel as if he was enjoying not the food, but the way I was eating from his hand.

That thought ignited a new heat inside me.

— Master…

— Mm?

— Tell me why you want me so much.

He held the spoon in the air.

— Are you really interested?

— Yes.

I said it firmly, but inside everything clenched with nervousness.

He could joke it off.

He could say something simple about my appearance.

But Ren looked at me so attentively, as if he had long been waiting for this question.

— Do you think it’s only about your body?

His palm was still next to my breast. Large, warm, almost completely hidden by the soft curves under the fabric of the dress.

I slightly straightened my shoulders.

— Isn’t it?

— No.

He scooped a little more tartare.

— Although I really do like your body.

I felt my cheeks start to burn.

Ren raised the spoon to my lips but didn’t let me take it at once.

— You’re small next to me. So small that I can almost completely cover you with myself.

I carefully took the food from the spoon.

— I like your miniature size. The thin waist that can be spanned by hands. The way it emphasises your hips.

His gaze slowly dropped below the edge of the table.

I involuntarily shifted on the chair, again feeling the echo of the sweet pain.

— And your ass, — he continued perfectly calmly. — That heavy, meaty ass that turns so beautifully red under a palm.

I almost choked.

— Ren…

— You asked yourself.

He smiled and raised the next spoonful.

I obediently opened my mouth.

— Your breasts also completely don’t match the image of a quiet and modest girl. Big, soft, sensitive. They fill my hands perfectly. When I squeeze them, you start dripping at once. You’re made entirely for being taken, kneaded and marked. Especially when you deliberately put them on display in front of me and pretend you don’t understand what you’re doing.

I lowered my eyes.

My breasts really were lying almost on the very edge of the table, trapping his hand from both sides.

To pull back now would mean admitting that I had become ashamed.

So I only pressed his wrist harder against myself.

“I’m not pretending.”

“I understand perfectly.”

Ren noticed the movement.

Of course he did.

— But if it were only about that, I would get bored quickly.

I looked at him again.

He took a thin piece of duck breast, poured the wine-and-berry sauce over it and raised it to my lips.

The meat was so tender it almost fell apart on the tongue. The crispy crust gave way to a rich, warm taste, and the sweetness of the berries mixed with the tartness of the wine.

I closed my eyes for a second.

— I’ve never tasted anything more delicious…

— I know.

— How?

— It’s written on your face.

He filled the spoon again.

— You give a lot away with your eyes, Yuki.

I froze.

— For example?

— When you talk about manga.

His answer was so unexpected that I stopped chewing.

— About manga?

— Yes. You can sit quietly for hours as if you’re afraid of taking up too much space. But the moment the conversation turns to a series you love — you change.

I listened, even forgetting about the food.

— Your eyes start to burn. You speak faster. You argue with the characters, defend favourite plot lines, get angry at a bad ending as if the author personally betrayed you.

Unexpected warmth filled me.

Not only from his hand trapped between my breasts.

He had really been watching me.

Not just looking.

Remembering.

— You… noticed that?

— I notice everything connected to you.

My heart slammed painfully against my ribs.

And between my legs at the same moment it clenched hot and hard.

Ren continued feeding me as if he hadn’t said anything special.

— I like how you try to hide your emotions even though you never succeed. How you wrinkle your nose when something displeases you. How you start looking from under your brows when you’re jealous.

— I’m not jealous.

— Of course.

His smirk made me narrow my eyes.

— That waitress simply irritated me.

— So much that you promised to ruin her face?

I held his gaze.

— She came too close.

— Exactly.

He touched the spoon to my lower lip, not immediately allowing me to take the next piece.

— I like that side of you. Angry. Possessive. Alive.

I slowly closed my lips around the spoon.

Inside it was getting hotter and hotter.

Every one of his words seemed to remove another layer of prohibitions. My pussy was already pulsing in such a rhythm that I could feel my own heartbeat deep below. Moisture slowly, treacherously leaked out, and I was almost certain the velvet seat under me was already wet.

— I like your kindness, — he continued. — But not the one they forced you to use to cover fear. The real one. When you protect what you love even if you’re scared yourself.

I lowered my eyes.

His fingers between my breasts moved almost imperceptibly, lightly squeezing the soft flesh. From that simple movement my nipples instantly hardened even more and pressed unpleasantly-pleasantly against the thin fabric.

— I like that you’re smart, even though you often pretend to be lost so that no one expects too much from you. I like how carefully you listen. How you remember everything. How long you endure…

His fingers moved again, this time deliberately brushing the sensitive skin.

— And how sharply you stop enduring when you finally reach the limit.

My breathing became uneven again.

I could already barely taste the food.

All attention focused on his voice, on his gaze and on that heavy, wet heat that burned between my thighs with every word.

— And also, — he said, — you combine innocence and the desire to provoke in an amazing way.

Heat rose from my chest to my face and immediately dropped lower into my belly, making my womb clench traitorously.

— I don’t provoke…

Ren slowly ran his gaze over my pose.

Then over his own hand, which I was still holding deep in the neckline, pressing it to myself with both breasts.

I myself understood how ridiculous the denial sounded.

— Fine, — I said quietly. — Maybe a little.

— Much more than you’re ready to admit yet.

I wanted to object, but he already raised the next piece to my lips.

I obediently accepted it.

Every compliment worked stronger than the previous one. The words about my waist, breasts and hips made me feel both ashamed and so sweetly that everything inside clenched. But the recognition that he saw my hobbies, habits and hidden character penetrated much deeper.

He wanted not only my body.

He wanted all of me.

Quiet Yuki.

Angry Yuki.

Playful Yuki whom I myself had almost forgotten.

The heat between my legs became unbearable. I slightly shifted my knees, trying to calm the pulsing at least a little, and pressed my breasts even harder against his hand, as if I could get even a drop of relief that way. Moisture continued to slowly leak out.

Ren noticed that too.

— Still want to know why I want you?

I swallowed.

— Yes.

He leaned closer.

His voice became lower, thicker.

— Because under the mask of a good girl a little greedy predator is hiding. You spent years pretending she didn’t exist. And now she has finally woken up.

I froze.

Those words should have frightened me.

But instead an almost painful wave of pleasure went through my body. My pussy clenched so hard that I barely held back a quiet sob.

“He’s not trying to turn me into someone else.”

“He’s saying that this has always been me.”

Ren ran his thumb along the edge of my lower lip, wiping away a drop of sauce.

— And I like watching you stop being ashamed of her.

I caught his finger with my lips before I could think.

Only for a moment.

But it was enough.

I lightly sucked it, looking straight into his eyes.

Ren’s gaze darkened with heavy satisfaction.

And I, still pressing his hand to my hot, sensitive breasts and feeling how between my legs it continued to slowly flow, understood:

The frightened Yuki had truly stepped far back.

In her place sat a girl who herself had asked to call him Master.

Who threatened another woman over a single glance.

Who allowed herself to be fed in the middle of the most expensive restaurant, held his hand between her breasts and enjoyed every word he spoke while her body burned from being left unfinished.

“I’m losing myself…”

The thought appeared again.

But now I already knew it was wrong.

I wasn’t losing myself.

I was returning the Yuki who had once been taken from me.

We continued talking until the last lights outside the restaurant windows went out.

I myself didn’t notice the moment when I stopped being the Yuki who constantly watched every word.

The one who apologised even when she was right.

The one who was afraid of seeming too loud, too strange, too herself.

She seemed to have remained somewhere far away.

And in her place another one appeared.

Bolder.

More daring.

The one who could look straight into the eyes of the person opposite and not think whether she was good enough.

And the strangest thing…

Ren didn’t try to bring the old me back.

He didn’t say “become the way you should be”.

He simply looked at me as if this side of me was exactly what he had been waiting for.

When the last dishes disappeared from the table and the glasses remained empty, I leaned back against the chair and quietly laughed.

— I never thought I would end up here…

Ren looked at me.

— And now?

I thought.

— Now it seems strange that I ever thought I didn’t deserve something like this.

A light smile appeared on his face.

Not self-satisfied.

Rather satisfied that I had finally said it myself.

I was in a strange semi-trance — from the taste, from his voice, from the constant pulsing emptiness between my legs that he had never allowed to be filled.

I stood up from the chair.

And immediately swayed. My head spun slightly, my legs felt like cotton. Ren managed to catch me — and, as always, his large palm landed exactly on my ass, firmly squeezing the sensitive, still bruised flesh.

From that touch I was shot through again.

I already felt that fountain. A hot, almost painful desire to finally come. My pussy ached so strongly that every step answered with a pulling emptiness.

— Master, faster home… Time to fuck.

I myself didn’t fully understand what I was saying. A warm, sweet fog stood in my head.

Ren chuckled.

— I haven’t fallen low enough yet to take a drunk woman.

I smiled and, without thinking, stretched out my hand and grabbed him right by the crotch through the trousers. Under my palm it was hard. Hot. Enormous. He had been hard the entire evening. How hard it must have been for him… I had come (or almost come) several times, and he had held back. I felt a little ashamed.

He picked me up in his arms again. I immediately felt that strange lightness — as if the entire weight of the world had remained somewhere below.

— Now I’ll open the window, and while we drive you’ll sober up.

I smiled even wider, leaned down and sank my teeth straight into his neck. The skin was hard, almost unyielding. I sucked with force, trying to leave at least some mark. Only a small, barely noticeable hickey appeared.

— Carry me, Master.

I laughed into his neck, and under that laughter he carried me to the car.

In the jeep I completely lost all restraint.

While he drove, I climbed on him with my hands, kissed his neck, tried to unbutton his shirt, rubbed my breasts against his shoulder. Begged:

— Master… let me come… please… or take me here… right now…

He remained unshakable.

Only once he briefly and roughly intercepted my hand when I again reached for his cock, and said calmly:

— No.

As promised, he opened the window.

Cold night air hit my face, gradually dispersing the wine fog.

By the time we entered the house I was already standing on my own feet and burning with shame, remembering what I had just done.

The words I had spoken.

How I had grabbed him.

How I had bitten.

Ren looked at me and laughed sincerely, low.

— I can see the focus in your eyes, drunkard.

From that laughter something immediately became warm inside. Real, soft warmth.

But the desire hadn’t gone anywhere. It was raging.

This bastard had spent the entire evening only teasing me — bringing me to the edge and stopping every time.

Even when I was drunk and asking for it myself.

I stopped in the middle of the hall, looked up at him from below and said quietly, already completely sober, but with a tremor in my voice:

— Well then, Master… come here.

And I jumped toward him, wrapping my arms around his neck and crushing my lips against his in a greedy, almost desperate kiss.