Nipple Masturbation — Lily
"Lily, would you bring the linens from Room 301 down to the first floor for me?"
"Ah—yes, Boss! I'll do it right away!"
Chris's voice carried down the third-floor hallway, and Lily sat up with a start from beneath the covers. He had left the room some time ago, but her body was still not her own. The memory of his firm fingers cupping the flesh of her breasts, pressing slow, deliberate circles into the tips of her nipples, clung to her skin. The alien frictional heat the Beveris oil had spread through her still hung thick at those peaks, pulsing with a faint, electric tremor.
"Hah… nnh…"
The moment she drew the thin hemp uniform up over herself to dress, the stiff fabric grazed her tightly swollen nipples. It was nothing more than cloth—and yet a maddening shiver shot straight through her skull. Lily threw her head back and let out a low, helpless moan.
She clenched the engagement ring on her finger and bit down hard on her lip. This is strange… The boss was only being kind, trying to ease my fatigue. So why is my body reacting so obscenely? Inside the innocent country girl's head, gratitude toward the gentle man who had taken her in tangled hopelessly with the guilt of having felt an unfamiliar pleasure in his hands.
Swallowing the shame that pressed against her chest, Lily hurriedly straightened her clothes and went downstairs.
By dusk, the first-floor hall of the tavern—set at a major junction in a midway village on the road to the Royal Capital—was packed wall to wall with coachmen and adventurers looking for supper and a drink.
"Hey, another meat stew over here, and more rye bread!"
"One moment, please!"
Lily wove through the dining room with a tray in her hands. But all through her shift, her gait was strangely awkward, almost unsteady. Every time she shifted her upper body to carry the tray, the coarse hemp lining of her uniform dragged across the swollen, stiffened tips of her nipples, scraping them without pause.
"Nnh…! Hah…"
Sparks of sensation poured from her chest down into her lower belly. She pressed her lips tight and gripped the tray hard, desperate not to let the customers notice—but she could not hide the flush creeping up her ears, nor the ragged hitch of her breath. Worse, the skin the Beveris oil had touched had grown abnormally, impossibly sensitive.
"Hey, miss! Out of the way!"
A rough adventurer passing by gave her shoulder a casual bump. It was the most ordinary physical contact imaginable. To Lily's overwrought body, it landed like a jolt of lightning.
"Hyaah…?!"
Her shoulder jerked; she nearly dropped to her knees on the spot. The tray in her hands rattled loudly, and for a moment every eye in the tavern swung toward her.
"Lily? What's wrong? Are you hurt?"
"N-no…! I just caught my foot… I'm sorry…!"
She bowed her head, her face so red it looked ready to burst. The real problem was that the maddening sensitivity radiating from her chest had begun to throb, low and insistent, in her belly. The heat the boss had worked into her nipples was not fading at all. Fed by the constant friction of the cloth, it was pouring downward—and without her even realizing it, a thin slick of wetness had seeped from between her thighs and soaked through her underthings.
A single clear droplet slipped from beneath the hem of her skirt as she walked toward the counter, and struck the wooden floor with a soft tap.
"……!"
The moment she saw the mark on the boards, Lily's eyes shook with violent shame. No customer's lewd hands. No coercion from the boss. Nothing but the touch she had received that afternoon, and the scrape of her own uniform—and her body had grown so aroused it was dripping onto the tavern floor.
Terrified the guests would see, she dropped into a crouch and scrubbed at the boards with a rag. The same hand that had been fidgeting with the ring she meant to offer her fiancé in chastity now wiped her own slick from a tavern floor, and shameful tears stung the corners of her eyes.
Behind the counter, wiping a teacup, Chris watched it all with careful attention. The corner of his mouth curved in a private, satisfied smile.
The Beveris is working beautifully. Once the skin is trained, even ordinary friction is enough to stimulate the womb into spilling love juice.
There was no need to rush her. Watching that pitiful sense of chastity toward her fiancé collapse, betrayed by her own sensitivity—that exquisite unraveling was the finest pleasure of all.
By eleven, with midnight approaching, the noisy evening service had ended and the tavern's lamps went out one by one.
"Your first day on the floor was hard, wasn't it, Lily?"
Chris held out a cup of tea, steam curling gently from its surface, and asked it kindly of the girl who had just finished the closing cleanup.
"Ah… no, Boss! I'm still clumsy with my hands, so…"
"Clumsy? Hardly. You handled that whole crowd by yourself. I'm proud of you. But the muscles I worked on this afternoon still haven't fully loosened—you were twisting your body all evening like it hurt."
"Ah…! Th-that's…!"
The knowledge that he had been watching her awkward movements sent the color flooding back into her face.
"Fatigue and toxins have pooled in your upper body and at the nape of your neck. Come. Sit in the chair behind the counter. Five more minutes, for an employee who worked past midnight. I'll ease the tension for you."
"B-Boss… it's so late, I couldn't possibly…"
"A good employee listens to her boss. Stay still."
Chris sat her in the chair behind the counter, then moved naturally around behind her. He dabbed a little of the violet Beveris oil onto his fingertips and slowly swept them up the thin line of her nape, tracing the curve of her ear.
"Nnh…!"
The instant his fingers touched the shell of her ear, a shiver drove down her spine like a nail of light.
"Hah… Boss… your hands… they're so hot…"
"The pressure points at the back of your neck are blocked. Breathe deeply."
He gently caught the thin cartilage of her ear between his fingers and rolled it, breathing a low, languid warmth against the side of her face.
"Hyaaah…!"
His hot breath mixing with the oil's heat at her ear made her feel as though her mind had gone white and empty. The tremor that started at her nape poured down her back and exploded, all at once, into the nipples that had been wound tight all evening.
While she was still too dazed to think, Chris softly undid the top two buttons of her uniform. In the dimness, the pale line of her collarbone came into view, and beyond the thin undergarment, her breasts stood taut and swollen with arousal.
"Nnh… Boss… not there…!"
"The toxins have gathered in your chest again. If I don't work them out properly, you won't even be able to breathe tomorrow morning."
With a touch far more precise and unhurried than that afternoon's, he used his oiled fingertips to press down on the swollen tips of her nipples.
"Haaahn—!!"
A cry loud enough to ring through the empty first-floor hall tore out of her before she could stop it. Lily clapped both hands over her mouth in a panic.
"Mmph…! Nngh…!"
The shame of hearing her own lewd voice echo through the silence made her round eyes spasm. Chris paid it no mind. He caught the tips of her nipples between his knuckles and rolled them, stretching them taut, while she clenched her mouth shut and endured the moans.
"Nngh—!! Nnh…! Mmmh!"
Wound to their limit by the afternoon's massage and a full evening of hemp scraping against them, her nipples erupted with explosive pleasure the instant his fingertips made contact. Hands still clamped over her mouth, Lily shook from head to foot, her back arching like a drawn bow.
Chris was in no hurry. He did not reach lower. He did not slip a hand inside her underthings. He only rolled and pinched, slow and gentle—her ear, the nape of her neck, the stretched peaks of her nipples—driving her senses toward the edge and holding them there.
"Mmph…! Nnh…! Nngh…!"
With the hand that was not covering her mouth, Lily crushed the engagement ring on her finger as if she could break it. She tried to hold onto reason by summoning her fiancé's face waiting back home—but the languid breath curling around her ear and the secret pressure of his fingers on her nipples wiped her thoughts clean. Pleasure she could not control made her body, on instinct, push her chest up into his hands.
And in the instant before she lost her reason entirely and tipped over the edge—he quietly drew his hands away and stepped back.
"Ah…? Mmph…?"
Hands still over her mouth, Lily stared at him blankly, stunned by the sensation cut off so suddenly. Her body, perfectly primed and screaming for more of that maddening stimulation, trembled with a frustrated, hollow ache. Her swollen nipples twitched in the empty air—and she did not even understand why she felt the loss of his hands as a disappointment.
"You did well, Lily. Go on upstairs and rest."
"Ah… yes… yes… Boss… thank you…"
She looked at him with unfocused eyes, then hurriedly covered her chest with her clothes, her face burning, and staggered up to the third floor.
"Hah… nnh… ahn…!"
A low moan slipped from Lily's mouth as she buried her face in the pillow. Her lower belly throbbed, a dull, insistent ache. The afterimage of the boss's hands working over her nipples, her nape, her ears still burned across her skin like embers—and the pleasure, cut off before it could finish, had left her frantic between the legs. A body that should have been cooling was burning from the inside out, stoked by the lingering heat of the Beveris.
I can't… I can't do this…
She reached out with a trembling left hand and pressed her fiancé's ring to her lips, trying to summon the vow she had made—to keep her chastity, to become a bride he would not be ashamed of, waiting for her back home. But even as she kissed the ring, it was not her fiancé's kind face that crossed her mind.
The boss's hands… they were so hot…
Her right hand, without her meaning it to, slipped inside her thin nightclothes. The nipple her fingertips found was still tightly swollen, still radiating heat. Recalling the pressure he had used behind the counter, she caught the tip between her own knuckles and rolled it, just a little.
"—! Ahn…!"
A body steeped in his oil went mad at the mere touch of her own fingers. Lily arched her back and clutched the pillow tight. The moment she laid a hand on herself, the dam holding back her instinct burst. She tried to stop her fingers, but her breasts, already accustomed to his touch, heaved and demanded something stronger.
"Nnh… hah… Boss… no, I can't…!"
Her mouth refused him. Her right hand, all the same, was already sliding down inside underthings soaked through and clinging. She reached beneath the thin cloth covering her sex—but the flesh between her legs, which Chris's hands had never touched, was only wet. No spark answered. No sensation came back. The maddening thirst and heat filling her head were not eased in the slightest by rubbing herself there.
What…? Why can't I feel anything down there…?
The answer was not below. It was in her chest—the breasts his oil had soaked so thoroughly, the breasts the hemp had scraped against all evening. Her right hand trembled as it climbed back inside her nightclothes. She eased the thin undergarment down, and in the dark her nipples showed themselves, swollen taut to a dark reddish-purple, stiff with arousal.
My chest… I have to touch my chest…
She bit down on the hand that held her fiancé's ring, and with the knuckles of her right hand gently caught the tip of a nipple and rolled it.
"Hnnnngh—!!"
A violent shiver drove straight through her skull. On the bed, Lily's toes curled tight. The body that had given her nothing when she touched herself below erupted with a frenzy of pleasure the instant her fingers found the nipples his hands had claimed.
"Hah…! Nnh…! Aaahn…!"
Shame at touching her own breasts. The uncanny wrongness of her whole body shaking like a leaf when she was touching nothing but her nipples—Lily wept. And still, every time she rubbed and twisted and flicked the tips the way he had taught her, a wave of sharp pleasure rolled up from her belly. What rose clearly in her mind was not her fiancé's face. It was Chris's hands, breathing that languid warmth against her behind the counter.
In the end, it was not her fiancé's name that broke from her mouth with the moan. It was the boss's. Clutching the engagement ring, abandoning herself to the nipples his hands had trained—a mad, exquisite sense of her own ruin.
"Haaaah—!!"
The instant she pinched the tips hard and pulled, her back arched off the bed like a bow. She had not laid a single finger between her legs—and still the explosive shiver that started in her nipples poured down her spine and drove straight through her lower body. From her chest alone, Lily met the first hazy, violent climax of her life. Without her knowing it, a rush of slick burst from between her thighs and soaked her underthings; her legs seized with aftershocks and trembled for a long time.
"Hah… hah… nnh…"
When it had passed, she stared blankly at her swollen nipples. The body that had felt nothing when she touched herself below had come from her chest alone. The truth settled over her: this was no longer a body she could offer her fiancé. It had become something strange and sexually distorted, something that answered only to the boss's hands.
"What's… what's happening to me… hic…"
Lily clutched the engagement ring to her chest, buried her face in the soaked bedding, and wept shameful tears until morning—aware, with terrible clarity, that she was sinking, little by little but without any doubt, into the secret mire Chris had dug for her.