Lavender's Gratitude
The laundry room was humid and hot today, as always. Ella spread the clothes across the washboard and scrubbed them with diligent vigor. White suds trickled down her forearms, carrying a foul stench with them. She paused, slipping a hand into the pocket over her chest. A small purple fabric pouch. It was the Lavender's Breath Pouch Logan had given her himself. She pressed it gently. Fwoosh— In an instant the entire room filled with the crisp scents of lavender and mint. The reek of monster entrails, blood, and sweat vanished completely.
"...It's truly amazing."
Ella let out a small, delighted laugh and tucked the pouch securely back into her bosom. Then her hands suddenly stilled.
I really ought to thank the Dean in person.
Since that day Logan had rarely come near the laundry room. The academy kept him overwhelmingly busy, of course, but accepting such a wonderful gift without a word of gratitude felt improper.
"...I must go see him today."
She murmured the words to herself and resumed scrubbing. The work, however, refused to end. Another mountain of uniforms from afternoon training arrived, followed by the blood-stained gear of the sixth-years. Only after the sun had dipped low could she finally set her hands down.
The next day was Ella's day off. As evening fell she stood before the mirror, smiling brightly while combing her hair into soft, neat waves. Instead of her usual work clothes she wore the black dress she had bought with the money Layman pressed into her hand. The fabric was soft, the tailoring impeccable, and the waistline hugged her figure with subtle allure. She had prepared the outfit especially for today; until now it had remained hidden deep inside her wardrobe.
She smoothed the front of the dress with both palms and drew a deep breath.
"...It should be all right."
The corridor was already dark. Most students had returned to their dormitories; not a single footstep echoed. Carefully concealing her dress beneath her robe, Ella climbed the stairs to the third floor with measured steps. Her heart beat faster with every riser.
She tucked her robe into a shadowed corner, stood before the door, and steadied her breathing. Then, with utmost care, she knocked.
Knock… knock…
"Come in."
The low, familiar voice sent a shiver through her. She opened the door with careful reverence and stepped inside. The hem of her black dress brushed the frame and swayed gently. The door closed behind her, and the corridor fell silent once more.
The moment the door shut, the Dean’s office enveloped her in Logan’s scent. Wood, leather, and the warm musk of a man. The moment it brushed her nose, Ella unconsciously tightened her waist and held her breath. She felt her folds grow slick with shameful ease.
Logan had been reviewing documents at his desk. He lifted his head, outwardly composed, yet inwardly he had been waiting for her.
She’s finally here.
"Layman’s mother? What brings you here?"
"Forgive me, Dean. The laundry room has been so busy I could only slip away now."
Logan gave a short nod.
"You must have your hands full. What urgent matter brings you all the way to my office?"
Ella produced the Lavender’s Breath Pouch.
"I came to thank you for this. Thanks to your kindness I can work without the terrible odors. I am truly grateful, Dean."
Logan’s eyebrow rose a fraction.
"It was nothing. I’m glad it’s making your tasks easier."
Yet beneath their polite exchange, a strange tension crackled between them.
"And… how does this dress look? It’s the nicest thing I own… Is it perhaps too short?"
Logan nodded lightly, eyes tracing her figure.
So she came prepared today.
"It suits you beautifully."
The black dress ended just above her knees, clinging softly and hinting at the elegant lines of her waist and hips. She never wore anything like it; even now a faint blush colored her cheeks. When Logan’s gaze lingered, it felt as though his eyes were licking every inch of her. Heat surged through her body.
Hngh…
Her sex, already damp, began to throb and soak through her panties. Ella could endure no more.
"Dean…"
The tiny, trembling voice slipped from her lips. She took one step, then another, until she stood directly before him.
"Madam…"
"Please… call me Ella…♡"
"Ella…"
As Logan tilted his head up, Ella leaned down and covered his mouth with hers. The first kiss was shy, little more than a brushing of lips. But when Logan’s large hand cradled the nape of her neck and drew her deeper, Ella closed her eyes and offered her tongue. Their tongues tangled, hot breath mingling. Soft, wet sounds filled the quiet office.
Breathless, Ella wrapped both arms around Logan’s broad back. Logan pulled her close, his hands sliding downward. With a slow caress he began stroking her ass over the thin fabric of the dress. One arm held her tightly while the other kneaded her soft flesh, lifting and squeezing until her whole body quivered with sharp pleasure.
"Hngh… Dean…"
She panted between kisses, whispering his title like a prayer.
"Hngh…! Dean, ah…"
Unable to wait any longer, Ella seized his hand and guided it beneath her skirt, pressing his palm against her soaked panties. Logan broke the kiss to look into her eyes. They were glazed with raw hunger and desperate need.
Gently, slowly, he traced circles over the drenched cloth. Heat radiated against his fingertips. He spread her folds with two fingers, pressing firmly at her center before stroking up and down with exquisite care.
"Huuu…! Dean…! Ah, aah…!"
The minutes of teasing blurred together. Ella’s mind went white. Her breathing grew shallow. Her back arched like a drawn bow.
"Huuu… uuu…!"
After several seconds of violent trembling she collapsed against Logan’s chest, utterly spent. Panting, she buried her flushed face in his shirt.
Still floating in the afterglow, every limb weak, Ella clung to him. Logan pressed a tender kiss to her cheek. She lifted her gaze, eyes shining. The gentle smile on his face sent fresh arousal flooding through her. She could no longer restrain herself.
Ella sank to her knees and unbuckled his belt with eager fingers. She tugged his pants and underwear down in one motion. His massive, rock-hard cock sprang free. Without hesitation she took him into her mouth.
Slurp… slurp…
She sucked him with devoted care, coating every thick inch with warm saliva. Logan stroked her hair, savoring the earnest service.
Slurrrp… slurrrp…
With glistening lips, Ella rose, climbed into his lap, and straddled him. Crouching in the narrow space beside the chair, she aligned herself over his throbbing length.
"Haa… I’m putting it in…"
She lowered her hips slowly.
Squish…
The hot, rigid shaft stretched her completely. Ella closed her eyes and moaned softly.
"Huuu…! Dean… it’s too… big…"
"Krr… Ella…"
Hearing her name in his deep voice sent fresh sparks through her. She began to move, taking him deeper with every roll of her hips.
Squish. Smack. Squish. Smack. Squish. Smack.
The chair creaked. Her soft ass slapped rhythmically against his muscular thighs. Deep, heavy thrusts followed one after another. Still sensitive from her earlier climax, Ella’s body welcomed every powerful stroke.
"Hah… aah… Dean!"
She gripped his solid shoulders, moaning openly. In this position she could see his face clearly. The man beneath her was no longer the cold, aloof Dean of Lumen Academy. He was a fierce beast consumed by lust for her alone.
Logan’s restraint finally snapped. He seized her waist with both hands and thrust upward with savage force.
"Ah, aah…! Right there…! Dean…!"
The office echoed with the wet sounds of colliding flesh and Ella’s heated cries. Each time his cock kissed her deepest spot her head fell back in ecstasy.
"Ahng! Ahng ahng ahng!"
She reached climax again. Her inner walls clenched and fluttered wildly, milking him with desperate need.
"…It’s coming!"
"Kk… ugh…!"
Logan’s hot seed erupted in thick, powerful spurts, flooding her womb. Ella shuddered at the scalding rush.
"Haa… haa…"
Still buried to the hilt, Logan paused. Ella wrapped her arms around his neck, lost in satisfaction. For a long moment only their ragged breathing filled the room. Logan brushed a light kiss across her lips. Her face brightened like sunlight breaking through clouds.
"…Dean… please continue to take good care of me from now on."
Molga stood pressed against the far wall of the corridor, barely daring to breathe. The door remained closed. The perfect soundproofing let nothing escape. She clutched the edge of her robe in a white-knuckled grip and waited.
Click.
The tiny sound of the latch echoed down the hall. The door opened. A woman stepped out quietly. She wore a dress. Long brown hair spilled down her back, glowing softly in the moonlight. Head slightly bowed, she used one hand to tidy her tousled locks and the other to smooth the front of her dress as she walked.
Molga stopped breathing entirely. The woman moved slowly toward the stairs. The crisp click of her heels rang through the corridor. When she reached the middle of the hallway, moonlight washed fully across her face.
Molga’s eyes widened.
"…?"
It was the woman from the laundry room, the one who carried the scent of lavender. The one whose eyes matched those of sixth-year Layman. The callus-fingered “Layman’s mom.”
Her mind went blank. Her legs nearly gave out. She pressed herself harder against the wall, heart hammering.
Oblivious to Molga’s presence, Ella descended the stairs with a faint, satisfied hum. Her cheeks were flushed, her lips swollen, and up close the unmistakable scent of Logan clung to her skin.
Molga’s fist tightened until her nails bit into her palm. She remained frozen, staring at the closed door of the Dean’s office, frantically trying to untangle the whirlwind in her head.
Inside the now-silent office, Logan sat exactly as she had left him. His pants were still bunched around his knees, the warmth of her body lingering on his thighs. He exhaled slowly and dragged a hand down his face.
"…Haa."
A heavy sigh escaped. He stood, pulled up his trousers, fastened his belt, and straightened his shirt. One by one he neatened the scattered documents. The handkerchief he had used to clean her was carefully wrapped and discarded. He took a fresh one and wiped the chair where their combined fluids had spilled. He even checked a nearby document to be sure nothing had stained it, then set it aside with relief.
Only when everything was back in its proper place did Logan sink deeply into his chair. He pressed hard against his temples.
"…Damn it."
Layman’s face flashed before his eyes—the boy still carrying the softness of youth, sweating as he swung a wooden sword in his training uniform. What expression would that face wear if he ever learned the truth?
Mom… with the Dean…
Logan knew exactly how desperate Ella had been. A widow raising her only son, how few options she truly had to keep that son alive on the front lines.
"…I really am a filthy bastard."
He muttered the words to himself.
There had been more than enough reason to help her without any repayment. Yet if he was honest, part of him had looked forward to this exact outcome. In the end every step had been his choice.
Logan steadied his emotions and once more became the Dean of Lumen Academy.
Very well. I’ll take responsibility and ensure Layman never dies on the front lines.