Chapter 117
Setsuna Miyamoto, vice president of Valkyria Academy, had been feeling a strange sensation lately. Was it a sense of unease, or something more indefinable? Even she couldn't quite put a name to it. Could it be that damn bastard who'd been interfering with her duties and ruining her precious moments with the president ever since last year? Trusting her sharp instincts—which had a high hit rate when it came to Kang Han-beom—she was certain he was plotting something again. Raising her bamboo sword high above her head, Setsuna muttered to herself.
"Something feels ominous. Today... yeah, I'll head to school a bit earlier and stick by the president's side without wandering off."
Lately, with all the drama involving Kang Han-beom, Baek Geum-hwa, disciplinary issues, and more, she hadn't been able to guard Brynhildr as closely as she'd like. But today, with no real schedule, she could stay glued to her all day.
Whoosh—!
With one final powerful swing to wrap up her morning training, Setsuna grabbed her prepped towel, spare underwear, and the smartphone she'd set aside to avoid interrupting her practice.
Ding—
"...!"
A message notification chimed right on cue. Her face still flushed from envisioning smashing that loathsome Kang Han-beom's skull a thousand times with her sword during training, Setsuna checked it eagerly, hoping against hope it was from the president—without even glancing at the sender first.
"What? Sender hidden...? And it's not just a text—there's a video attached...?"
Just spam, probably. Disappointed it wasn't from Brynhildr, Setsuna moved to hit delete. But just before her finger pressed down, the loading spinner vanished, replaced by a thumbnail. Dismissing it as worthless junk, she froze—eyes widening in horror at the familiar sight.
"P-President...?!"
The thumbnail showed massive, familiar breasts—a few cup sizes bigger than her own overwhelming bust. As far as she knew, only one person in the world was blessed with tits like that.
"And that glimpse of silver hair, those pure white eyes... it has to be...!"
Having assisted Brynhildr for a year, Setsuna had memorized the shape of those uniform-clad bombshells after seeing them dozens, hundreds, thousands of times. Trembling, she stared at the thumbnail—then squeezed her eyes shut, shaking her head and whipping her blue ponytail side to side.
"No, no—it's a trick. That bastard who deserves to die probably sent this filthy video to mess with my head. I almost fell for it in the moment."
The size, the shape, the silver hair—they screamed Brynhildr's trademarks. But Setsuna was dead certain those weren't the president's tits. And she had a damn good reason.
"Sure, the size and shape match the president's breasts almost perfectly, but the president doesn't have those perky, suckable nipples sticking out like that! Hers are inverted nipples—the kind you just want to coax out with your fingers and lips!"
Crude as hell, maybe, but it was enough to convince her.
Smug now, she yelled at the faceless culprit—Kang Han-beom, no doubt.
"Trying to fool me with a fake video, huh? You didn't have enough info! Kang Han-beom, you did a decent job mimicking the president's tits, but there's no way you've seen her bare chest!"
She'd showered and bathed with Brynhildr plenty of times—she knew. It had to be a composite fake. Feeling superior with her insider knowledge the idiot sender lacked, Setsuna sneered at the faceless jerk (definitely Han-beom) and reached for delete again.
"...But maybe I should check it out first. What if the creep left a clue?"
Absolutely not because she was curious about the contents or dying to see it. This was all for the president. With that justification, Setsuna slyly hit play—and froze in shock once more.
"Say it with your mouth. What should I do with you like this? Slam my dick right in?"
"Don't put it in! Not now!"
"Wha—?!"
Unlike the thumbnail, the video jumped straight into Brynhildr (presumably) splayed in an I-shape, legs spread wide, getting railed by some hulking guy. Setsuna jammed pause, muttering in disbelief.
"Wh-what the hell is this...? Even with advanced AI and compositing tech these days, how is the sync rate this high...?"
It was Brynhildr. That fantastical figure, sapphire-like eyes, snow-white silver hair—and above all, that strict, dignified voice echoing in her ears. The sync wasn't just high; it was like they'd dragged the real deal in there.
"No way... the actual president? Nah, impossible. There's no way she'd expose herself outside, strike that slutty pose, and fuck some random guy..."
If not for those protruding nipples, she'd have bought it wholesale. Amazed by the tech yet furious at its misuse, Setsuna—face flushing red—glanced back at the on-screen Brynhildr and reached for play again.
"...A bit more. No clues yet. The background looks familiar, like I should recognize it..."
Definitely not because she craved more of this slutty, never-before-seen side of her president. Hitting play, Setsuna gawked once more.
"I didn't tell that guy, but I've already cum a few times. Every time your dick pounds in deep, I lose it—so getting my pussy slapped again, I really can't hold back..."
"Should I pull out then?"
"Kihiiit! N-no, don't pull out♡ Listen to me! Why are you so impatient—no, why are you so impatient, Master♡"
"Heh heh, look at you switching to formal speech the second it feels like my dick might slip out. You lewd sow."
"H-how can she say something so shameless?! A-and shoving her ass back to impale herself on that man's... dick, craving that filthy meat rod?!"
On-screen, Brynhildr gazed at her ravager with lust-filled eyes and a drooling mouth, spewing obscenities. Not content, she thrust her massive ass toward his crotch as he tried to withdraw—desperately slamming deeper onto his dick herself.
"No, right—it's a fake... Hoo, the sync rate tricked me for a second there."
No way her president would act like a shameless whore. The reliable, awe-inspiring Valkyrie who'd made her swoon countless times—tongue lolling like a bitch in heat, chasing dick? Ridiculous.
Schlick...♡
Unaware (or uncaring) that one hand had slipped inside her training gi, her face even redder now, Setsuna refocused on the screen.
"Nngoook... A-again, cumming again...♡"
"Already sticking your ass up like that—you're totally hooked on my dick, huh? So, what now? Keep pounding your pussy? Or...?"
"I'll... I'll do it. Let me serve you, so please hold off on the pussy-pounding just this once...♡"
"Oh?"
Schlup... schlup...♡
Now Brynhildr shook her ass flirtatiously, grinding and milking the man's dick with slutty fervor. Her gaping pussy slammed against his crotch, smearing her juices everywhere; as she pulled back for the next thrust, his shaft glistened, swallowed by her pussy.
"Hmph, definitely made by someone clueless about the president. Her of all people, begging for dick like it's beneath her—no, submitting to it? Delusional much. Hn♡"
Setsuna snorted incredulously at the ongoing hip-thrusts.
Schlick... schlick...♡
Each wet slap from Brynhildr's ass echoed in tandem with Setsuna's own pussy, her fingers plunging deeper amid sticky sounds rivaling the video—clenching like she couldn't bear to delete her new nighttime companion.
"C-cum in me. In my pussy♡ Fill your sow's pussy to the brim with a creampie♡ I'll cum while taking your load, I want to cum swallowing every drop♡"
"Cumming in your pussy—!!"
"Nggiiiik♡ Byurrrrrp—♡"
As on-screen Brynhildr's pussy erupted with thick white semen amid a splattering sound, Setsuna bit her lip.
"M-me too, c-cumming...♡"
Even knowing it was fake, the unprecedented lewdness of her president overwhelmed her—pushing Setsuna over the edge into ecstasy.