The Voluptuous Student Council President Arrives
The morning of the first day of term dawned bright and clear.
A strange cocktail of nervous tension and giddy excitement seized my chest, almost as though I were a student enrolling for the first time. Drawing a steady breath, I stepped onto the central disk lift and descended to the ground floor. Even through the thick stone walls, the vibrant hum of youthful energy from across the academy grounds seemed to seep into the quiet library.
"Up already, lad?"
Over in the corner, perched behind the reception counter, sat a middle-aged man who gave me a warm, grandfatherly nod. He was the chief librarian, who had arrived late the previous night. Mild-mannered and easygoing, he carried an air of gentle competence. Whatever his arcane prowess might be, he struck me as the kind of superior anyone would be lucky to serve under.
"Yes, sir. Good morning. Did you sleep well?"
"Fair enough, fair enough."
"Have you had any breakfast yet?"
"Skipped it," he said with a wry shrug. "The trek to the main dining hall is entirely too long, and bothering with the library's kitchenette felt like far too much trouble for an old bachelor."
Tucked away behind the stacks was a modest private kitchen—a thoughtful amenity provided by the administration, considering we were the only two men on the entire premises. A little slice of employee welfare, you could say. It was even outfitted with a chilled pantry, full sets of cookware, and a refrigeration cabinet powered by cold enchantments rather than electricity.
"In that case, would you like me to whip up a quick bite?"
"Oh? I certainly wouldn't say no to that."
"Give me just a moment, then."
I headed to the corner of the first floor and pushed through the door marked for staff only, which opened directly into the galley. Scanning the enchanted cold-box, I pulled out cuts of meat, fresh vegetables, and cooked rice. Having spent years surviving on whatever I could scrounge, my repertoire of makeshift dishes had grown surprisingly solid.
I shaped seasoned fried rice into compact logs, wrapped them neatly in paper-thin ribbons of meat, and fried them until golden and crisp. Beside them, I tossed a vibrant green salad in a zesty fruit vinaigrette. It was the sort of meal I couldn't have dreamed of tasting back when I was starving in the slums.
"Breakfast is served, sir," I announced, returning to the counter with two laden plates.
"Well, well! One look tells me it's delicious, and the aroma is heavenly."
"I hope it suits your palate."
"You've outdone yourself, lad. Come, sit down and eat with me."
"Pardon? Sir, I couldn't possibly..."
While mages were not hereditary nobility, their status ranked far above that of common folk—roughly on par with the wealthy bourgeoisie. For a man of his standing to share a dining table with a commoner like me was practically unheard of, akin to a freeman dining alongside a bondsman. It was a staggering breach of etiquette.
"Nonsense," the librarian scoffed, waving a dismissive hand. "Leaving the cook to starve while the master feasts is a foolish vanity best left to highborn fops. Sit, sit. Let us eat."
"Thank you, sir."
"Don't thank me. I'm the one who should be singing your praises."
We pulled up chairs at the small table behind the counter. The meat-wrapped rice rolls were rich, savory, and satisfyingly crisp, balanced perfectly by the bright crunch of the salad. It hit the spot.
"Ah, wonderful," the librarian murmured, wiping his mouth with a napkin. "Every bit as splendid as what they serve at noble banquets or the executive hall."
"I'm glad to hear it, sir."
Relief washed over me, tinged with a swell of quiet pride. He wasn't merely offering empty flattery; he had thoroughly cleaned his plate.
"I'll take care of the dishes, then."
"Take your time."
I carried the tableware back to the galley, scrubbed everything spotless, and took a moment to brush my teeth before returning to the main hall.
"Ah, Nathan," the librarian called softly, an awkward, slightly embarrassed smile touching his weathered face. "You're registered on the ledger as an odd-job custodian, but in truth... you're the Breeding Duty Officer, aren't you?"
Naturally, he would know. There was no point in dancing around it.
"That is correct, sir."
"Well, the preservation of texts is my responsibility, and the routine cleaning is handled entirely by ambient sorting wards. Strictly speaking, there's very little actual work for you here."
"I suppose so, sir."
"Which means you needn't scramble about inventing chores for yourself. Rest comfortably, fulfill your duties when the time comes, and spend the rest of your days browsing the shelves. Yours is a vital post, after all."
The offer sounded almost too sweet to be real. "Are you certain that's permissible, sir? I wouldn't want to overstep..."
"Think nothing of it. You've been saddled with an exhausting, perilous assignment. You would do well to conserve your strength and vitality for where it truly matters."
He meant every word. A man might disguise his tone or practice a polite expression, but the genuine sympathy in his gaze was unmistakable.
"Thank you very much, sir."
I accepted his generosity with a grateful bow. His reasoning was sound, leaving me with neither the desire nor the standing to argue. And so, in an instant, my vocation shifted from menial handyman to permanent library fixture. Armed with the literacy I had worked so hard to acquire, my daily routine would now consist of working my way through the academy's vast archives.
Whoever comes knocking, I thought with an inward smirk, I just hope she's hot.
The fresh-faced first-years might not yet comprehend the nature of the Breeding Duty Officer, but the upperclassmen knew full well. And it wouldn't take long for the newcomers to learn, either.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇
Meanwhile, in the grand auditorium of Ionia Academy, Board Chairwoman Johanna stood atop the gilded dais, gazing down upon the assembly.
Before her gathered the new intake and the returning classes alike, packed into the velvet-lined hall. Every single face in the crowd was female. Radiant, graceful, and impeccably poised, they appeared outwardly as the flawless paragons of high nobility. Even the sole commoner admitted among their ranks bore herself with astonishing elegance; though reports had indicated she received aristocratic tutoring prior to matriculation, the girl's bearing exceeded all expectations.
"Welcome to the illustrious halls of Ionia," Johanna proclaimed, opening with her customary address. The words were standard fare for such ceremonies, yet her voice carried unfeigned gravity. "Over the coming three years, you shall draw upon the refinement cultivated by your venerable houses to navigate this miniature society, accumulating varied and profound experiences. For it is through the richness of experience that one's life finds true sustenance."
Countless pairs of eyes looked up at her. The freshmen listened with wide, starry-eyed wonder, while the senior girls masked their boredom behind practiced veneers of attentiveness.
Johanna noted their subtle shifts in posture but paid them no mind. Having presided over this ritual year after year, she knew even the most eloquent rhetoric grew tiresome upon repetition.
"...With that, you are dismissed to your assigned homerooms. Further instructions and inquiries shall be handled by your respective mentors. Welcome once again to Ionia."
Short, imposing, and straight to the point—that was how she preferred her addresses. Establishing absolute authority was all that mattered.
Stepping down from the podium amidst thunderous applause, Johanna felt a faint flicker of anticipation for what the new term might bring: the petty rivalries, the passionate friendships, the boisterous laughter of youth. It was precisely to witness that vibrant tapestry of raw human emotion that she had dedicated herself to education.
Yet alongside that scholarly sentiment lingered another, far more primal fixation.
Her mind inevitably wandered back to the new Breeding Duty Officer—the first man appointed to the role since she took office.
I want to see him again...
As the academy's director, she was supposed to have guided the young man with composed, stately grace. Instead, she had unraveled entirely, blinded and broken by shameful lust. And yet, even that catastrophic loss of control felt unbearably sweet in retrospect.
In the days following the examination, she had touched herself relentlessly in an effort to cool her fevered flesh. She had stroked and writhed, desperate to purge the phantom memory of that thick, unyielding shaft thrusting violently deep into her womb. Over the course of two sleepless nights, she had brought herself to climax dozens of times until her thighs were bruised and wet.
"...Ngh."
The lingering musk of their coupling rose in her mind's eye, bringing a deep, helpless flush to her cheeks. The heat she had spent days tamping down was roaring back to life with terrifying force. She wanted to slip a hand beneath her skirts this very second. No, what she truly craved was to be mounted, bred, and filled to bursting once more.
Perhaps... I should bear another child myself...
Johanna gave her head a sharp shake as she stepped out into the arched cloister, horrified by her own thoughts. What an utterly lewd, disgraceful indulgence. Pregnancy? While a woman's carnal appetite might peak in her prime, this went far beyond reason. To crave seed purely for her own selfish, gluttonous pleasure after having long fulfilled her reproductive duty to the state was unbecoming of a lady.
Yet the fire in her lower abdomen refused to die down; if anything, it raged hotter with every passing second.
My body is still fertile. Would it not be the height of aristocratic duty to bring forth another heir of noble blood?
She hovered on the knife-edge of rationalization, on the verge of turning her steps toward the library, when a crisp, familiar voice cut through the haze.
"Board Chairwoman."
It was the newly appointed student council president, whose formal greeting broke Johanna's trance like cold water.
"Ah... Viola. What is it?"
Johanna drew a slow, deliberate breath, steadying her racing heart as she took in the young woman before her: cropped, sky-blue locks framing a striking face, and pale azure eyes as clear as an autumn sky. The unexpected interruption had startled her, but she was profoundly grateful for it. Being dragged back from the brink of wanton impulse offered her a desperate shred of composure.
"Forgive my impertinence in detaining you while you are busy, Chairwoman," the student council president began, bowing with flawless decorum. "I wished to make an inquiry regarding the newly appointed Breeding Duty Officer."
As Viola bent forward, the sheer weight of her bosom strained heavily against the fabric of her uniform. In mass, firmness, and lush swell, the girl's breasts rivaled Johanna's own ripe assets despite her youth. Her hips and buttocks, too, curved with extraordinary abundance.
"Speak freely," Johanna replied, masking her turmoil behind a cool, regal smile.
"I wished to ask for your personal assessment regarding the quality of his seed. As the one who evaluated him directly, you would know better than anyone."
"Indeed. It is a matter of paramount importance to your house, after all." Johanna recalled the physical metrics from the examination parchment—attributes that had transcended mere excellence and bordered on monstrous perfection. "His seed is remarkably superior. Though the act of coupling itself may prove somewhat demanding, I strongly advise any noble lady of ambition to claim him."
"To that extent?"
Viola's eyes widened in genuine astonishment. Delivered not with breathless exaggeration but in Johanna's characteristically measured, discerning cadence, the endorsement carried immense weight. Coming from a woman as notoriously exacting as the Board Chairwoman, no further proof was needed. It was an outright declaration that the new officer was a breeding prize her lineage could not afford to miss.
"That is my honest assessment," Johanna concluded.
"I am deeply indebted to you for the counsel, Chairwoman. I shall take my leave."
"Very well."
Viola offered another pristine curtsy, turned on her heel, and hurried down the colonnade, her steps betraying a distinct urgency.
"...Haaah."
Johanna watched the retreating figure with a quiet, envious sigh. The sudden rush of blood had cooled her delirium, yet she could not help but covet the girl's freedom to pursue him so openly. In the pit of her belly, an unquenched ember flared once again.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇
After watching the colourful procession of students pass by the library windows for a while, I settled back into a leather armchair with a hefty tome.
The academy's uniform design was remarkably utilitarian: crisp white trousers for everyone, with the color of the tailored shirts serving to denote the student's year. It felt less like stuffy formalwear and more like athletic apparel tailored for aristocratic mobility.
Between chapters, I ran minor errands for the librarian—brewing pots of fragrant tea, returning stray folios to their designated shelves, and dusting the upper tiers. It was an exceptionally cozy setup. While the grounds outside buzzed with first-day chatter, the library remained an oasis of serene silence. The students were likely too preoccupied finding their bearings to visit the archives just yet.
"Seems our first patron has arrived earlier than expected," the librarian remarked, looking up from his ledger. "Whether she's here for my books or for your services remains to be seen."
"Understood, sir."
Heeding his warning, I straightened my posture and smoothed my tunic. A trained mage possessed sensory awareness leagues beyond my own; if he sensed someone approaching, they were already at the threshold.
Clack...
Barely three seconds after I sat up straight, the grand double doors creaked inward. Towering three meters tall, the heavy oak portals evoked the majesty of an ancient European fortress. Yet the figure who glided through the entryway outshone the architecture entirely.
She sported a cropped, sky-blue haircut that accentuated the striking lines of her aristocratic features. But what stole the breath straight from my lungs was her frame. Tall, commanding, and blessed with an absurdly voluptuous hourglass figure, her mountainous breasts, impossibly slender waist, and sprawling, heavy hips were every bit the equal of Johanna's mature curves. It was an overwhelming display of femininity. They said a woman who looked stunning with short hair was a true beauty, and whoever coined that phrase had clearly met someone like her.
"Ah, Viola," the librarian greeted warmly. "Welcome back."
"It has been some time, Master Librarian. Have you been keeping in good health?"
"Quite so. Judging by your vibrant complexion, you spent your recess well. You assume the mantle of Student Council President this year, do you not?"
"Yes, sir."
She conversed with him in a smooth, polished cadence. Hearing her title caught me off guard—I hadn't expected the head of the student body to appear on my very first morning.
"And you..." After concluding her pleasantries, her cool gaze drifted toward me, lingering with sharp, analytical appraisal. "You must be the new Breeding Duty Officer appointed for this term."
Her voice was composed, carrying the dry, level tone of a woman used to command.
"Greetings, my lady. I am still learning my duties, but I shall strive to serve to the best of my abilities."
I rose swiftly and bowed from the waist with absolute formality. Unlike modern high schools where student councils were mostly ceremonial, the council president at an elite aristocratic academy wielded genuine administrative and social power. Offending her was the last thing I wanted—not that I could afford to offend anyone here, seeing as I occupied the lowest rung of the social hierarchy.
"What is your name?" she asked.
"It is Nathan, my lady."
"Nathan. A good name. I am Viola—eldest daughter and heir to House Vendermere."
Presenting oneself with the formula of house and lineage was a privilege reserved strictly for high nobility and royalty.
"It is an immense honor to make your acquaintance, Lady Viola."
"You speak with exceptional refinement. Have you received prior instruction in courtly etiquette?"
"No, my lady. I merely do my utmost to show the respect your station deserves."
"Is that so? That pleases me all the more."
"You are too kind."
Lowering my head once more, I let out a discreet breath. By all accounts, the initial impression had gone smoothly.
"To get straight to the point," Viola said, crossing her arms beneath her heavy bust and lifting it even higher, "I would like to place an immediate reservation. Is your schedule open?"
Ah. So that's why she marched in here the moment orientation concluded.
"My schedule is entirely clear, my lady."
"Then I shall return this evening. There are a few procedural matters I wish to verify in my capacity as student council president."
"Understood. I shall be awaiting your arrival."
I promptly retrieved the small leather-bound appointment ledger from beneath the counter and inked her name into the evening slot. It was, after all, my foremost obligation as the Breeding Duty Officer.
A staggering physique, a gorgeous face, and an icy exterior masking an utterly shameless, businesslike lust—she checked every box imaginable. The term was getting off to a magnificent start.
"I shall see you shortly, then," she said with a faint nod.
"I look forward to serving you, Lady Viola."
After seeing her off with an impeccably deep bow, I sank back into my chair. The fluttering nerves in my chest had melted away, replaced entirely by hot, restless anticipation.
"To think your very first patron would arrive so soon," the librarian mused, watching the enchanted doors seal shut on their hinges. His expression was calm, devoid of judgment. "And for it to be Viola of all people..."
"Indeed, sir. You mentioned she is the student council president—is there something peculiar about her booking a slot?"
"Hm? Ah, nothing bad, lad. It's just that Viola has never once availed herself of the Breeding Duty Officer throughout her entire enrollment. While not entirely unheard of among the more conservative heiresses, it's quite rare for a girl like her to come running the moment the semester begins. It took me by surprise, is all."
She's never used the officer before?
A sudden, thrilling realization flickered in my mind.
Could she... be a virgin?
A supreme delicacy beyond the wildest reach of an ordinary commoner. She belonged to a world high above my own, yet the thought of deflowering an icy, highborn heiress set my blood ablaze.
"Hearing that certainly makes it curious, sir," I replied aloud, keeping my voice mild and masking the ravenous hunger stirring within.
Hurry up and fall, night. I can't wait.