Chapter 4
Most of the Breeding Uncle's passive skills revolved around things like tits or Breeding Uncle's Lewd Hand Movements, but this one was among the rare few active skills, on par with Breeding Uncle's Serpentine Tongue.
Breeding Uncle's Lewd Hand Movements (Active)
· Heightens the sexual sensitivity of women you touch.
· Produces greater effects when targeting weak points discovered by Breeding Uncle's Lecherous Gaze.
· High chance to inflict aphrodisiac and estrus effects.
· Increases the odds of crafting masterpieces during item creation.
· Grants proficiency in massages and rubdowns.
Just as you'd expect from a skill designed purely for training women, it came with an utterly depraved description. It was a skill you could only learn after mastering Breeding Uncle's Sinister Scheme, and it was one of the main reasons I'd spent the past year flat on my stomach, grinding experience points in silence. It had been a dutiful little money-maker, padding my pockets nicely while crafting support items, but this was the first time I'd ever used it on a person, so I was gripping my chest with a touch of tension.
Just then, Brynhildr tilted her head slightly at me and asked,
"It's a bit odd to ask after accepting your kindness, but... does the Support Department teach massages? I've never heard of such a thing."
"Of course it's not in the curriculum. I learned it on my own from books."
"Self-taught... Unexpected. These things usually require years of study. Didn't you say you had no interest in the Liberal Arts Department?"
Was she bragging about her straightforward personality, never one for lies or holding back? The moment Setsuna left, the student council president who'd been on the verge of reeking of yuri vibes vanished, replaced by her usual dignified tone as she tried to brush my hand off her shoulder.
"A supporter can't just tank, craft, or manufacture. To survive in the industry, you learn whatever opportunities come your way, right?"
"Hnnngh...?!"
But before she could, I clenched my hand on her shoulder and started the massage without warning. Brynhildr arched her back with a gasp, letting out an involuntary moan, then sharpened her gaze and snapped at me.
"Forget what just happened."
"Something wrong?"
"...No, nothing at all. More importantly, what was that touch just now?"
"Like I said, a self-taught massage. That spot seemed the most knotted, so I loosened it. Did it hurt?"
"No, quite the opposite—it felt good. So you really learned massage."
Was accepting my 'kindness' just a test? To see if I actually knew massage or if I was using it as an excuse to grope her? Even after drinking coffee laced with Breeding Uncle's Sinister Scheme and submitting to Breeding Uncle's Serpentine Tongue, she was still probing for any slip-up where I might touch her inappropriately.
She definitely had intentions like that, but damn, was this the pinnacle of Valkyria Academy's top Valkyrie? What mental fortitude.
But if she had ironclad willpower, then I had eyes to match!
Breeding Uncle's Lecherous Gaze (Passive)
· Instinctively pinpoints women's weak points.
· Its bitch-staring, pussy-glaring, sow-ogling gaze may provoke disgust from most women (except those with particular tastes), so use with caution.
I focused my eyes hard, and glowing lights began erupting from Brynhildr's body like markers. They were indicators of her weak points, including her erogenous zones—the glow was brighter there, especially blazing around her tits, pussy, and clit.
For now, it's just pie in the sky.
My eyes nearly drifted there, but touching now would get me smashed flat—it was obvious. I forced my gaze away from those tempting spots and kneaded the glowing points on her shoulders: tapping gently, rubbing softly, sometimes sliding my thumbs upward with firm pressure, following the skill's guidance.
"Ngh, hngh... Ah..."
Relentlessly targeting the shoulder markers, my hands finally coaxed stifled moans from between her gritted teeth.
Thrilled inside that the massage was working, I flashed a friendly, helpful smile on the outside.
"No need to hold back. If it's too strong, just say so."
"No, it's... the opposite. It feels good, like all the built-up fatigue from lately is melting away in real time—hngh, I can feel it... Ngh...♡"
"Is the pressure right?"
"Yes, perfect... Don't make me talk... It's getting harder to hold back, nngh...♡"
No wonder. I'd been lacing her coffee with it every day while she pretended to report on latecomers and uniform violators.
"Ngh, ahn, why are you so good at this... Where did you practice...♡"
"I experimented a lot on myself. Glad you like it."
"W-Wait... Stop for a sec, just a moment...♡"
Days of sipping what might've been aphrodisiacs or sedatives would pile up, regardless of her strong will—restless nights tossing in bed. Unbeknownst to her, lust had been building bit by bit.
Already pent up, and now I'm stimulating those gaze-found weak points with hands that amplify the effect on them. Of course it's hard to endure.
I could've kneaded her tits until she burst and pissed herself in shame right there, but the timing wasn't right. Ignoring her quickening breaths, I slid my hands toward her shoulder blades as if unfazed.
"This area's really knotted. Mind if I focus here?"
"Th-There...?!"
THUD!
Unable to hold back, she thrashed wildly, her massive tits jiggling. Her knee strike sent the desk flying with a pathetic groan, papers scattering as it crashed down. Impressed by its durability—no holes from a dragon's power—I turned to her flushed face.
"Stop! That's enough... You've done plenty..."
"Huh? We just started... There are still so many spots to loosen."
Mainly tits, tits, and more tits.
Swallowing hard at the even brighter glows on her chest and pussy, I pretended disinterest and reached for her shoulders again, but she swatted my hand away with effort.
"I said that's enough. Hoo... You've done plenty. Thanks for the service."
"If you need more anytime, just call. I'll come right away, anywhere."
"Right away...?"
"Yeah, call me and—oh, right, you don't have my number."
Brynhildr slumped into her chair, desperately regulating her breath. Ten minutes? Fifteen? Her sweat-glistened body made my pent-up Breeding Uncle instincts stir after a year of restraint, but I played it cool, grabbed her phone, and entered my number.
"We've known each other a year, and you still don't have my number saved. Here—call if you need anything else."
"I won't need it... A shameless massage that disrupts like this, interfering with duties... Why would I need that...?"
"Not sure if it's shameless, but just in case—here's my number."
Brynhildr had appointed me Guidance Committee vice-chair, but she'd always gone through Setsuna for calls or messages, suspecting me like before. Securing a direct line was a huge win.
I handed her some wet wipes as she wilted in her chair, turned away like a gentleman as she wiped her sweat, and strode to the door with crisp steps.
"I'll head out then. School's probably getting rowdy by now."
"A-Ah... Good work."
She'd composed herself somewhat, but the massage's pleasure lingered—her voice trembled as she saw me off. Sensing presences outside, I upped my tension and said,
"Seriously, call anytime you need support—no pressure."
"I said go!"
Like a thief with sore feet, she yelled. With that, I turned the knob and exited the president's office.
"Kukuku."
"You bastard...!"
Was Setsuna lurking by the door, ready to burst in and slice me if Brynhildr called? She glared at me with icy ferocity.
The moment I unleashed my long-held vulgar grin at her, Setsuna drew her sword in a flash, slashing diagonally at my body.