Master for a Day
They wanted him to wear a swimsuit like this?
"What exactly does 'switching roles' mean?"
"Just for today, you're the master and I'm the employee. That's all it is."
Junyoung's lips parted in surprise. He could really trade places with her?
Honestly, it was a tempting offer. The scene unfolded in his mind at once—himself, a mere hired hand, giving orders to Chaeun, the mistress of the estate. The moment he pictured her obeying his commands with a deferential bow, a shiver ran from the crown of his head all the way down.
"O-Okay."
It was a no-lose bet anyway. Even if I lose, nothing about our relationship changes from what it's been. There's nothing in it for me to lose.
"Then it's from here to that far end and back—three laps. How's that?"
"Got it."
The two of them took their places at the edge of the pool. Gazing at the rippling water, Junyoung clenched his fists tight. Having come this far, he wanted to win, badly.
"Go!"
With a splash, they plunged into the water at the same instant. Junyoung swam at full throttle from the very first stroke. Every time his arms cut through the water, the barely-there string swimsuit got in his way, but he forced himself to think only of the race. He swam as though his life depended on it.
At first Chaeun seemed to hold a slight lead, but from the second turn on, he began to close the gap.
"Hah... hah..."
The sound of cleaving water rang through the air. All the way to the final stretch, the two of them traded the lead, neither giving an inch.
Thwack. The first hand to slap the wall belonged, astonishingly, to Junyoung.
"I won!"
A bright smile bloomed across Junyoung's face. The joy of victory was more than he could contain.
"Hah, hah... You're actually a decent swimmer."
Chaeun accepted her defeat gracefully and offered her congratulations.
"I really thought I had you. A shame. But a deal's a deal—today, you're the master. No, forgive me. The young mistress."
The tone was playful, but the word young mistress made his heart lurch. He had never once imagined a day would come when someone would call him that. Junyoung's cheeks flushed crimson.
They climbed out of the pool, and Chaeun swept her wet hair back over her shoulders. When she raised her arms overhead, baring smooth, bare underarms, Junyoung felt oddly self-conscious and dropped his gaze. That was when he noticed something strange.
"Huh...?"
The strings of her top had come undone, and the scrap of fabric serving as a bra was on the verge of slipping clean off. Given that the thing had none of a real swimsuit's function, it was hardly surprising it refused to stay put. Still riding the high of the race, Chaeun seemed entirely unaware that her swimsuit was coming apart.
"U-um... Miss Chaeun?"
"You won, remember? We agreed you'd be the master."
At those words, Junyoung's ears went red. He had won the bet, sure, but the casual speech refused to come out. While he hesitated, Chaeun closed the distance by a step.
"What are you being so shy about, hm?"
The fabric that had been covering her nipples had slipped away, leaving her chest fully bared. Junyoung's eyes darted everywhere, finding nowhere safe to land. With a woman built like that making direct eye contact while her swimsuit hung off her in ruins, he had no idea how he was supposed to react.
"I, um, that's..."
"Go on. Call me Chaeun."
His lips parted, words forgotten. Call her by her name? Unthinkable. Of course, winning the bet had earned him the right to treat Chaeun like any other employee, but the word simply wouldn't come. Sensing his struggle, she beckoned him closer with a curl of her hand.
"Hurry."
"C-Chaeun."
"Yes, Master."
His heart slammed down into the pit of his stomach. It was a scene far too dangerous for his cardiac health—a stunning beauty with her chest on full display, meeting his eyes and asking him to say her name. Though the fact that said beauty had a cock hanging between her legs was, admittedly, a slightly different problem.
While he stood there stammering, Chaeun steered him off somewhere else entirely. They ended up back at the outdoor shower where they had first changed.
"Swimming's over, so that means it's time to wash up, doesn't it?"
"Y-yeah."
Taking one of the showerheads, Junyoung let his answer trail off. He understood that as the master he ought to speak down to her, but the words wouldn't stick. So she'd just come in to rinse off, then. He'd half expected something more elaborate. Junyoung managed a hollow little smile. What was I even getting my hopes up for?
It was nothing but a moment's amusement. He wasn't actually becoming the master of the estate, and she wasn't truly becoming his servant—feeling sheepish over expectations he had no business having, he readied himself to wash. That was when Chaeun stepped up behind him.
"Master, shall I help you?"
"Huh?"
Gooseflesh prickled up at the touch of hands settling on his shoulders.
"Uh... sure."
Apparently the game wasn't over yet. Tense, Junyoung hunched his shoulders. Standing in that narrow shower stall wearing nothing but the scraps of a swimsuit, he felt like he might die of nerves. Still, might as well enjoy this while it lasts, right? When else does a mere servant of the house ever get to be the master? He resolved to savor his brief reign, and strangely enough, the tension in his chest loosened.
Chaeun undid the strings and began peeling the swimsuit off him. The top came away with a soft pop, and in the mirror before them he watched his breasts drop free with a bounce.
"Hnn."
Perhaps from the chill, his nipples had drawn up stiff and hard. The puffy, pink-tinged areolae and the jutting peaks looked somehow obscene. Junyoung tore his eyes from the mirror. It was his own body, and yet he couldn't bring himself to look at it straight on. Facing himself as a woman was still more than he could manage.
"I'll take the bottom off for you as well."
Bending at the waist, she reached for the strings at his hips. It was unexpected. She had been raised as the estate's little princess since childhood—she should never have had occasion to wait on anyone—yet her hands moved without a trace of awkwardness, sure and practiced. From this alone he could tell that Chaeun was cut from different cloth than Nawol. Where Nawol walked a straight and proper path, Chaeun gave off the air of someone gloriously unbound. Both were beauties, but their auras were nothing alike, and each carried her own distinct allure.
With a slick whisper, the panties slid down too, and he stood in nothing at all. Flushing, Junyoung crossed his arms over his chest. The string swimsuit had been as good as naked to begin with, but there was still a world of difference between covering the important parts and leaving them bare.
"There's oil on your skin. Let me wipe it off for you."
Squeezing shower gel onto a soft sponge, she began gliding it over his body in gentle circles. To look at, there was nothing remarkable about it—and yet no one had ever attended to him like this in his life, so the awkwardness was unavoidable.
Then it happened. Something strange pressed against his buttocks. Brow furrowing, Junyoung glanced back over his shoulder. The culprit was, unbelievably, Chaeun's erect cock.
"U-um, Miss Chaeun?"
"Young mistress, what's this now? You're meant to speak casually to me."
Junyoung flinched and snapped his head back around. Honorifics had slipped out of pure habit. He steadied his rattled nerves and tried again.
"Um, there's something weird poking my butt."
"Oh, that's my cock. Is there a problem with it?"
"N-no."
Delivered with that much confidence, there was nothing to say in reply. Junyoung's eyes flicked downward. The cock trapped inside her tight swim trunks looked positively strangled—even the shape of the glans's slit was printed in exact detail. He had to admire her composure, not batting an eye at a full, aching erection.
"Such a plump little butt you have."
And with that, she pressed her cock against him and ground it there, shamelessly. So she'd been doing it on purpose all along. Junyoung's ears burned scarlet.
The bet was settled; he knew he ought to shove her off and walk out. And yet, somehow, he couldn't summon the strength to lift so much as a finger. His mind had gone to mush. Two days in a row now, he was getting tangled up naked with gorgeous women. Is this actually real life? Ever since he'd turned into a woman, one good thing had followed another. To think he could end up skin to skin with the women he'd only ever watched from a distance—Junyoung couldn't suppress the happiness bubbling up in him.
"Whew. Young mistress, don't tell me you're dripping down there?"
"Hah, I am not."
"Hmm. Are you sure about that?"
Still rubbing herself against his butt, Chaeun began rolling her hips in slow waves, grinding harder with each pass.
"A body this pretty? I doubt anyone around you ever left it alone."
"Th-that's not—"
It was a misunderstanding so absurd it defied belief. He had been a hopeless virgin his whole life, and it had been exactly one day since he'd stopped being one. Where he stood flustered and frozen, Chaeun carried on grinding her cock against him without a shred of subtlety. The moment her rigid glans pressed flush against the cleft of his ass, a jolt ran through him and goosebumps raced up his spine.
"Getting off on my cock with your butt, are you?"
Hot breath spilled against his ear. Every time Chaeun murmured, sensation climbed another shivering notch, and he felt half out of his mind. Soft breasts against his back, a hard cock against his rear—it was too much.
"Mmh... ah."
He knew it was impossible, but he was terrified that hard cockhead was going to push its way inside him. Panicking, Junyoung twisted his hips this way and that to escape it.
"Wiggling around like that—asking me to fuck you?"
"Th-that's not what—!"
He had only been fleeing the thing, and now he was being accused of soliciting it. Unbelievable.
"Hah. I can't take it anymore."
With that, Chaeun shoved her swim trunks down. The moment the waistband cleared her hips, her cock sprang free and slapped up against her stomach.
"Huk."
Junyoung's eyes went wide enough to pop out of his skull. It was every bit as huge as Nawol's. Veins stood out along its length in thick ridges, and it was, unbelievably, already drooling a slick thread of precum.