Cumming on the Head Maidservant’s Neck.
Cumming on the Head Maidservant’s Neck.
I was transported to another world. 700 years ago.
“My Lady!! Just a little more!!”
“Ugh...!!”
“I can see the head!! Just a little... just a little more...!”
“Siren!! You can do it...!”
“Guh...!! Guhhh!!!!”
What’s it like to be crawling out of a pussy? It sucks. My already young body is struggling to breathe, and the squirming walls of her vagina are squeezing my whole body.
Still, this woman is lucky. I was desperately thrashing toward the exit with the feeble limbs of a newborn baby. This is my tenth time doing this. I’m practically a veteran at this point, right? My delivery will probably be relatively quick and easy compared to other pregnant women’s. After all, I’m a seasoned newborn with 11 deliveries under my belt.
Wriggling
I conserve as much strength as possible, then—just as the entire vaginal wall writhes to push me out—I push against the wall with my feet and propel my body forward. I boldly abandon any arm movements and concentrate my limited strength on my lower body and chest. Relying solely on the sensation in my feet, I make my way toward the exit.
The midwife’s hand grabs my head.
“You’re almost out. One… two!!!”
“Guhhh!!!!!”
“Huff… huff… one more time…!”
“Siren… push just a little harder!!”
“Honeyyyyy!!!!”
Phew!!!
I finally breathed in the fresh air. Before looking at my father and the maid, I scanned the room.
I’m lucky in this life—this place is clearly noble.
“Ha... Ah...!!”
“It’s a son... it’s a son!!!”
“Finally, I have a son!! Siren!! You’ve done well!”
“Ha... I... want to see the baby.”
I was passed from the maid’s hands to those of my mother, who had just given birth to me.
“Hello? My son... It’s Mommy...”
Objectively speaking, my mother in this life was pretty. Sucking on her milk should be quite enjoyable. Whether she’s a noble, a commoner, or a beggar is important, but my mom’s face is also a crucial factor for me.
Sucking on an ugly bitch’s nipple? That’d be a real ordeal.
“Waaah... wa... Aaaaaaah!!!”
I don’t fucking want to do this shit either. I’ve lived for over 700 years, and here I am babbling like a baby. It’s utterly humiliating. But a newborn baby who doesn’t even cry and just scans the room with a bored expression?
It just makes me look suspicious and becomes a hassle. In extreme cases, there were even mothers who met my gaze and looked creeped out.
“Waaaaaah!!!”
A wave of self-loathing washes over me, but there’s nothing I can do about it.
“Haa… Ha… Son… Son…! I love you…”
“Ooh…!!!!”
(Fuck this.)
“Haa… Come here.”
I buried my face in her warm breasts. I could smell a lovely floral scent coming from her soft skin. It was cozy.
***
How many seasons have passed? Honestly, I don’t give a shit how many seasons have gone by. The only things I care about are how I can find some peace and how I can get a woman to sleep with me.
Bang! Bang! Bang!!
“Young Master!! Please come out at once!”
“Why?”
“You’re already 30 minutes late!”
“I never said I’d learn that stupid ballroom dancing. Why the hell should I learn that?”
“W-where on earth did you pick up that kind of language?! As the son of a duke, you should speak in a manner befitting your station!!
Head Maid? Don’t make me say it twice. A man like me—a total loser from birth—doesn’t dance.”
“Young Master!!!”
Martha Holden. She’s the de facto leader of the maids in this mansion. A smart woman who rose to the position of head maid in just three years on the job, purely through her own abilities. She wasn’t originally my personal maid.
At first, a young maid around my age served me.
“M... Master. You have your morning basics class. You should head downstairs soon...”
“I have no interest in the stuffy etiquette of the aristocracy. It’s nothing but meaningless formalities.”
“The lady of the house specifically instructed that you must attend this class! Please!! At least do it for my sake.”
“Why should I care about the concerns of a mere maid?”
“W-well…”
“It’s a deal. If you want my cooperation, bring me the head maid’s underwear.”
“Huh…?”
“It’d be perfect if it’s still unwashed. And don’t even think about trying to trick me by bringing another maid’s underwear. You know my sense of smell is sharp, right?”
“Th-that…!”
For some reason, none of the maids in the mansion lasted more than four days.
In the end, the “Tiger Maid”—who was notorious for her fiery temper—decided to take charge of me personally.
Bang! Bang! Bang!!
“If you don’t come out within five minutes, I’ll force the door open!”
“Vandalism? You’re a bold one, aren’t you? I’ll deduct the repair costs from your salary. And even if you break the door down, I’m not taking those stupid dance lessons.”
“I’ll report this to the lady of the house.”
“So you’ve chosen to tattle after all? How pathetic.”
I just told him to fuck off and pressed Masa’s panties against my nose. The rich scent of her pussy stimulated my nasal passages, and my dick sprang to attention.
“Sssshhh...”
“I’m counting to three.”
“It was five minutes just a moment ago!!”
My sacred ritual isn’t over yet!!
“Three...”
“Damn it!!”
“Two!!!”
I hurriedly hid Masa’s panties in the drawer.
“One!!!”
BOOM!!!
“Young Master~!!!”
Masa’s face was already contorted with rage. She was striding toward me, step by step, her breathing heavy. Even in her dignified stride, I could sense her restrained fury. As she advanced toward me, her golden locks swaying with each thud against the floor, they looked just like a lion’s mane.
“Grr!! Let go!!”
Masa roughly grabbed the collar of my shirt and yanked me up. Even though she was a pitiful maid, the difference in physical strength between a boy less than 130 centimeters tall and a maid on the verge of her coming-of-age ceremony was undeniable.
If I had been an ordinary young boy, that’s exactly what would have happened.
Hanging in midair, I dangled my feet until she let her guard down, then channeled mana into my lower body. Using Masa’s back as a springboard, I leaped up, and the moment I landed, I pushed off the ground to create some distance.
If she had been an ordinary woman unable to use mana, her spine would have been shattered, but Masa is different.
“Here we go again today.”
“Let’s settle this!! Masa!!!”
“Very well. If I win, you’ll have to obediently follow my every command for the rest of the day.”
“If I win, you’ll have to give me the underwear you’re wearing right now!”
“...You perverted little brat...”
“What did you say? I can’t hear you if you speak so softly!”
“Let’s begin.”
Golden mana rippled from the ground beneath Masa’s feet. Thud. The moment that sound rang out, she vanished from my field of vision.
I sensed Masa’s presence behind me. I quickly spun around to dodge the back choke.
My body—still that of a child—can’t withstand my mana.
Peripheral vision, reflexes, top speed—they’re all lacking. That’s only natural since I can’t enhance my body with mana.
But physical strength isn’t the only answer in combat. Having spent 700 years
in this other world, I know that.
Experience. The intuition of a seasoned warrior.
My left leg feels cold. It’s clearly a wasabari attack.
I pushed off the ground and dodged Masa’s kick. Immediately afterward, Masa’s left hand blocked my field of vision.
“Got you…!”
It was within my expected range.
Thwack!
I struck Masa’s left hand from the side and slipped through the gap in his armpit. Sensing danger, Masa hurriedly created some distance.
“Phew... You’re quite good.”
“Let me take a swing.”
“You’re... a genius.”
A genius? I’m not so sure about that, but if you spend 700 years in another world making a living by the sword, you can reach a level like mine. Of course, Masa would never in her wildest dreams imagine that I’m a veteran swordsman who’s been around for 700 years.
“To have reached this level at your age... I don’t know why, but sparring with you feels like fighting a battle-hardened veteran who’s been through it all.”
“Wow… you’re a sharp one.”
“Huh?”
“Never mind.”
Masa’s physical growth is already nearing its end. Her limbs are long, and her range of motion is extensive. To put it in perspective, it’s as if Masa is fighting while swinging a 2-meter-long longsword back and forth, while I’m fighting with a 3-centimeter-long toy knife.
If I were a swordsman with the eyes of a hawk, I might have treated Masa like a worthless commoner and branded the shame of a swordsman on her back, but right now, my body is in such a pathetic state that I can’t even properly hold onto the mana flowing through my soul—I’m just a worthless piece of shit who lets it drip away.
But I won’t give up. I’ll fight by making the most of the few advantages I have.
“I’m going to take this a little more seriously.”
Masa charges at me. I barely catch a blurry glimpse of her silhouette and twist my body to anticipate the direction of her attack. To compensate for the difference in physical strength, this kind of gamble is absolutely essential.
I deftly dodge the side kick that follows by snapping my neck to the side. If I make good use of my short stature, I can handle attacks—which I’d normally have to block by stepping back—relatively easily.
My 700 years of combat experience tells me:
Now is the moment.
I grab Masa’s leg and take him down.
The reach difference caused by the difference in arm length? Or the difference in movement range caused by the difference in leg length? It’s meaningless when fighting while rolling around on the ground.
From here on out, it’s a test of strength.
I could land a punch right on Masa’s face, but that would ruin her pretty face. I climb onto Masa’s chest as she lies face-down on the ground and grab her by the neck.
I have no intention of choking her unconscious with both hands. It would be impossible to suffocate Masa’s mana-enhanced body in a short time with my tiny hands. Before I could even knock her out, her fist would shatter my skull.
I pour my magic into her. I channel all of my magic—more than young Jammin’s body could ever handle—into Masa’s body.
“Oh… oh my God!!!”
“I’ve won.”
“Guh… guh…”
A level of magical power that defies belief—especially coming from Jammin’s body—spilled into Masa’s body. For a brief moment, Masa’s eyes widened in disbelief, but then the arm that had been trying to push me away went rigid.
My soul is over 700 years old. The caliber of a soul honed over 700 years—it must be unimaginable to Masa. She could never have imagined that such immense magical power could emanate from my body. It’s like waves on the scale of the East Sea surging from a glass the size of a soju bottle. I know the reason, but Masa had no way of knowing.
Even if she had known the reason, she couldn’t have anticipated this kind of attack. Unless you’re a fool, you wouldn’t resort to such a crude and inefficient method. A mage with an overflow of mana? They’d simply cast a stronger offensive spell. A swordsman with an overflow of mana? They’d amplify the sword strike or the aura on the blade to extend the range.
Knocking an opponent unconscious just by infusing them with mana? That requires far more mana than an attack spell or the aura imbued on a sword.
But right now, I can’t control my mana precisely enough to use magic, aura, or physical enhancements—even though I have mana to spare.
It’s a ridiculous attack method—weak in power yet requiring an excessive amount of mana. To begin with, even most mages don’t possess enough mana to knock someone unconscious.
But me? I’m a veteran among veterans, having been reincarnated twenty times. I don’t know about my magical skills, but for 700 years, I’ve been training my mana like crazy. In terms of raw mana reserves alone, I’m on par with a Grand Mage.
“Guh…! Guh.”
“This is your first time experiencing something like this, isn’t it?”
In an instant, Masa’s face turned crimson and her eyes rolled back. White foam trickled from her mouth. It was strangely arousing.
That should be enough.
I emerged victorious after seven rounds of sparring.
I’d been saving this move all this time just for this day.
I ripped open Masa’s blouse and exposed her breasts. Through her neat maid uniform, the symbol of her voluptuous femininity was revealed. Her breasts were pure, snow-white, without a single scar or blemish.
As I slid my hand inside her bra, I felt her warm body heat and the soft texture of her breasts. They were soft and squishy—a pleasant sensation.
A pink nipple stood out right in the center of her breast. I teased the nipple gently by circling it clockwise with my thumb, then playfully bit down on it lightly to punish her. Far from being discouraged, the nipple stood stiff and erect, bearing a striking resemblance to its owner.
My attention naturally shifted to her crotch. After checking to make sure no one was around, I carefully closed the door and slipped my upper body under her skirt.
Her hot pink pussy looked as if it had never been penetrated by a man. When I slipped my finger slightly between her lips—tightly closed like a fresh clam—I felt the moist, warm folds of her vagina. As I pulled her panties aside a little further, the fresh scent of a young pussy wafted up.
Squish, squish.
It’s her hymen.
What a score.
If it were up to me, I’d shove my dick inside her right now, but if Masa, who’s awake, finds out her hymen has been broken, I wouldn’t be able to handle the fallout. So, unfortunately, I’ll have to settle for rubbing my cock against her pussy.
This is her clit!
I spread my hand and gently stroked her entire pussy, and her juices began to stick to my hand little by little. Her clit, stimulated, slowly swelled, and I greedily sucked on the clit that was cautiously peeking out from between her labia.
“Slurp!!! Slurp!!!’
“You want me to act my age after living 700 years? Try living that long yourself. If there were no pussies in this world, I would’ve gone mad long ago.”
I can’t take it anymore, damn it.
I pulled down my pants, took out my erect cock, and looked at Masa, who was lying there unconscious with her mouth wide open. Just by looking at her face, you’d believe she was a noblewoman—Masa is a natural beauty. If she’d been born in Korea, she’d put most female idols to shame.
Just look at my mansion—it’s overflowing with servants who are constantly trying to make a move on Masa. Even the elderly nobles who occasionally visit the mansion sometimes offer huge sums of money just to take Masa away.
With looks that are hard to believe for a mere maid and a diligent personality—not to mention her ability to wield mana—she’s the kind of all-around, six-star maid that every man would covet.
Fortunately, Masa herself had no intention of working for another noble family.
He rubs his cock against Masa’s pussy. He thrusts his cock across her tightly clenched pussy lips. The urge to cum is slowly building.
He shoved his cock into her mouth, where white foam was bubbling. As she passed out, he used the white foam in her mouth as lubricant and thrust his cock deep down her throat.
“Phew…!”
I kept pushing my cock deeper into her throat, past her moist tongue and the lining of her mouth.
Martha’s warm, moist throat gently enveloped my cock.
“Get pregnant by my cock in your throat!!”
Gurgle, gurgle.
Thick semen poured down Masa’s throat. Worried that the semen might block her airway and cause her to die from lack of oxygen, I pressed my ear against her soft, bare chest for no particular reason to listen to her heartbeat. Later, I wiped the semen trickling down her cheeks with a handkerchief and smeared it across her chest. After that, I pulled her bra back up and fastened the clasp for her.
“Okay. No problem.”
After enjoying myself, I plucked a single strand of pubic hair from the head maid. No particular reason—I just wanted it as a souvenir.
Hmm...
The humiliations I’d endured came flooding back. From the day she nagged me for over an hour about my rude tone—almost making my ears bleed—to the days she criticized even how I held my fork at the dinner table, claiming I lacked noble dignity.
I got annoyed for no reason and plucked about five more pubic hairs. Oh. Since I won the bet, I took off her underwear and set it aside separately.
Feeling quite satisfied, I returned to bed and closed my eyes.
Knock, knock.
“Felix!! Your older sister’s here—aren’t you even going to say hello?!”
A familiar voice, high-pitched and clear as a nightingale’s song, rang out.
“You’re here, you slut!”
“How dare you call your big sister a slut? Hurry up and open the door!”
“There’s supposed to be a password, right?”
“Grr...!”
“Tell me.”
“No way!!! You’re so vulgar...!!”
“Heh heh heh… Just come in.”
“Ugh… How did I end up with a sister like this…”
Charlotte, my older sister and the first prospective slut I’m trying to tame, had returned to the mansion.
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