A Junior's Praise
"Ha-eun. Over here."
"Ah—yes, ma'am!"
The seniors had not a scrap of mercy for their newest junior. I hustled from desk to desk, arms piled high with documents.
Although — hang on. Hadn't I been called here on a missing-person report...?
"Um, Hanna?"
"Hmm? What is it~?"
Hanna had her phone wedged between her shoulder and cheek as she met my eyes, both hands busy scribbling something down. Her voice was kind, but her eyes said ask something useless and you'll regret it.
Still. I have to ask this.
The case was the case. I didn't hold back.
"Um — aren't we going to talk about the missing Warrior of Light?"
"Ahh, don't worry about that. We didn't summon a critical combat asset just to have you wander around looking."
Hanna's words were crystal clear. The job wasn't to go out searching blindly. First you gathered intel from every corner, sorted it, and only then walked the locations that actually got pinned down. Until that point, I was supposed to stay under the seniors and get a feel for how the work actually ran.
Area D stuck to operating principles far more like a corporation than I had expected. Back where I came from, all we did was split the hours and make a circuit of the city...
"Anyway, go help the others with the grunt work."
"Yes, ma'am!"
With my questions answered, I got moving at once. And yet...
This is so, so embarrassing.
Among seniors dressed in immaculate suits from collar to hem, I was the only one working with my lower half completely exposed. It was mortifying. Every step sent my thighs brushing together, my ass swaying. It would have been better to just go fully naked — wearing a proper top only made the bare stretch of my lower body stand out more.
I tried not to think about it, but—
"Softie!"
"Ugh!"
Starting with that playful call from one of the seniors, my name was no longer Shin Ha-eun.
"W-why am I Softie?"
"Huuuh? Are you asking because you don't know~?"
The senior stared openly, pointedly, down between my legs. I clamped my thighs shut and scrambled to change the subject.
"More importantly — why did you call me? Do you have something you need me to do?"
"Ah. Here. Coffee run. Take these over there and over there."
I took the mugs brimming with coffee and wove between the cubicle partitions. Every time I passed someone, another nickname came flying, until my head was spinning.
"Hey! Thick Puss!"
"Ugh...!"
I turned to find a fierce-looking senior shaking a stack of papers at me.
"I told you to copy these. Why aren't they done?"
"I-I'm doing it. A hundred pages takes a little time..."
"Ugh. The second they're done, bring them straight to me."
"Yeees..."
What possible reason was there to need a hundred copies in a space with fewer than ten people. Wasn't this just harassment?
The question crossed my mind, but I had already made the mistake of being rude once, so I kept my mouth shut and walked. This was the kind of thing you could only prove with action. That I wasn't some washout!
"Pussykins."
"......"
Okay, that one was a bit much, wasn't it? I almost teared up.
"Heeey. Pussykins. You ignoring me?"
"N-no. I'm not."
Still holding the coffee, I approached the senior who had called me. A woman with a drowsy-looking face.
"Did you need something?"
"The printer. Just letting you know the copies look like they're done."
"...Thank you. I'll drop these off and grab them right away."
I bowed my head and turned away like I was fleeing. The senior was fidgeting with her pen while staring at my pussy, and a bad feeling welled up in my gut.
"Aww. What a waste."
"......"
I knew it. Dangerous. I didn't know what, exactly, but it was very dangerous.
"Your coffee."
"Oh. The new girl. Come on in."
At the words new girl, I almost cried. Someone who actually saw me as a person.
"But while you're here, mind showing me your asshole real quick?"
I hereby retract every thought I just had. Lull me into dropping my guard, then stick the knife in. This bitch was the worst of them.
"Sorry. I still have coffee to deliver, so I'll be going."
"Booo. Cheapskate."
Ignore it. Ignore. I have to ignore it completely.
I kept moving. I delivered the documents to the senior who had called me Thick Puss, did my best to avoid the one who had called me Pussykins, and somehow finished the grunt work in one piece.
It's still only this late...?
That was just the morning, of course. It was only just time for lunch.
...Beating the hell out of those Varg bastards had been easier than this.
"Phew. Finally a chance to breathe."
"Tell me about it. The workload never lets up."
I took a seat in the deepest corner of the break room where the seniors had gathered. Calling it a break room was generous — it was just the partition in the farthest corner — but as a makeshift rest space, it loosened the battlefield atmosphere a little.
"By the way, Thick Puss. You were pretty on the ball out there, huh?"
"Th-thank you."
At the fierce-looking senior's words, every gaze in the room snapped to me at once.
I flinched, curling in on myself, and pressed my thighs together. Several pairs of eyes locked onto the space between my legs, and my breath caught in my throat.
"Doesn't that deserve a little praise?"
"Hmm. It sure does~."
Starting with a few of the seniors, sly smiles spread across their faces like a contagion.
What. What is this. I don't need praise. Why are you making me so nervous.
But my anxiety became reality. The seniors played rock-paper-scissors, and two of them came toward me.
"Yes! Me."
"Tch. Boring."
The remaining four, having lost, grumbled and made room. I had thought they were going to pick on me again, so this was unexpected.
"You two use her up, and we'll take her this afternoon, yeah?"
"Yeah, yeah."
Not unexpected. These fucking bitches. Did they think I was a photocopier? Who exactly were they planning to use like public property.
I furrowed my brow, and the two seniors who had won walked toward me with those same sly smiles.
"Come on now. Our Thick Puss. Over here."
"Hehehe... hi there, Pussykins."
Oh, damn it. Of course it was the two who had tormented me the most.
I swallowed hard and stuck out my arms to block the hands reaching for me, but—
"Oh-ho. Getting cocky? Should I tell the Team Leader?"
"She looked pretty pissed earlier, huuuum. Should I~?"
"......"
I gave up and lowered my hands.
"Good girl. Get up on the desk."
"W-what are you going to do?"
"What do you think. I told you — praise."
I don't need that kind of praise. But I had no choice. I set my ass on the desk.
And then it began.
"Aww, who's a good girl. Our Pussykins did so weww~."
"Wow, look at that slim jawline. I'm so jealous I could die. No worrying about getting old, no worrying about dying."
"Right? Look how soft her pussy is. Ah — is this unrelated to becoming a Warrior?"
"That's probably just how she was born."
"Wooow. The texture is insane. Completely different from mine."
"How so?"
I w-want to die.
Treating a person like a pet... and then shamelessly reaching between my legs to grope and squeeze. This isn't right... something is wrong here.
...Or maybe it isn't...
"Why does that keep ringing?"
"I know. Makes me jump every time."
I stayed quiet, watching the seniors' faces. Hoping, maybe, their attention would shift to that bell.
Of course, that was wishful thinking.
"Wait. Isn't it ringing from here?"
"Where?"
"Here. There's something like a bell."
"Th-that's not—hyaaahn...♥!!"
The senior fondling my pussy pinched my clit between her fingers. A jolt of pain, and with it a dizzying rush of pleasure that raced up my spine and arched my back.
"Wow. She's right. Junior, where'd you get this?"
"...W-what do you mean, where'd I get it..."
"This. This peachy-pink bell."
"It's not... a bell..."
Having to explain something so obvious filled me with a miserable sadness. Whether they had gone through some kind of sadism training, the seniors teased me with relentless persistence.
"If it's not a bell, then what is it?"
"It's a... clitoris..."
"A clitoris? This is a clit? Isn't it a little big?"
"......"
It's n-not big. I don't know the details of other women's, but that was clearly just to mess with me. The snickering faces, the sharp eyes studying my expression for the slightest reaction — they were pulling out every trick they had to toy with me.
"But no matter how I look at it, it looks like a bell."
"I told you it's not... ngh... it isn't..."
"Isn't it, though? You tap it and it makes a sound."
"Ngh...! W-wait...! Nngh...♥!"
A knuckle-rap landed on my clit, and a yelp tore its way out of my throat. How can they be this cruel when they're women too...
"Ah. Break time's almost over."
"That was fun. Shame. We should've started sooner."
The senior who had been rapping my clit reached into her jacket for a pen, then muttered with a look of deep regret. What were you even going to do with that...
"Anyway, junior. Your seniors praised you. Don't you have something for us?"
"...Can I touch you too?"
I swallowed my rage and reached toward the seniors' pussies. And was immediately stopped by a clit flick.
"Guh...!"
"Don't get cute. Not that."
"Th-then what..."
I cupped my stinging clit and looked back and forth between them, my eyes asking if there was seriously more. Of course, that look didn't so much as scratch their shameless faces. They ignored it completely.
Thebothered, the seniors grabbed my chin and squished my cheeks as they spoke.
"......"
I had never in my life heard of etiquette or rights like that. I couldn't take it anymore and opened my mouth to say something...
...Why was I going to open my mouth again.
"Fine... I'll do it, okay?"
If you don't even use the rights you're given, you're an idiot. Irritation welled up for reasons I couldn't name, but I watched the fierce-looking senior's face and started slowly rolling my hips back and forth.
"Nnh... nngh..."
"How is it. Desk-humping. Feel good?"
"...Not really."
"You're soaking wet, though?"
"......Th-that's because you just..."
I shot a glare at the senior who had been tormenting my pussy...
"You got this wet from getting your clit smacked? Want me to hit it more?"
The murderous look in her eyes instantly crushed my nerve. I dropped my gaze.
The fierce senior asked me.
"Nothing to say?"
I was indignant, but I pushed my lips out in a pout and answered.
"...Desk-humping... feels good..."
"Mm. I like it when you're honest."
"Nnh..."
The hand on my chin tightened, squishing both cheeks, toying with my face like a lump of clay. I was furious, but there was nothing I could do.
...I should at least claim my rights.
I kept rocking my hips like that for a long while, until I hit. When I stumbled out of the break room, the other seniors scolded me for being so late.
...I would rather die than say I was late because I was humping a desk.
I glanced at the clock. It had barely ticked past one.
Ah... when is this day going to end.