Three Months as Sena's Servant
Three months had passed since I'd become Sena's servant. You know the trope they always talk about, right? Isekai transfer. Time had flown by just like that. It was an endless string of grueling days too tough to describe in words. Still, I couldn't help but admire my own grit for pushing through it all without breaking.
People saw me as some kind of freak. A summoned servant who flat-out ignored orders. Arrogant. Rude. A servant who knew zilch about magic or swordplay. Just your average powerless human, yanked into existence by sorcery. It got so bad that folks were openly calling for my disposal—I guess I really was the pits.
But even amid all the trash-talk, the witch who'd summoned me stood her ground, ignoring every word they said. Byproduct of a botched spell or not, I was her property. She took me in without a second thought.
"Umm."
I woke up in my cramped single room. Morning sunlight and birdsong filtered in from outside, heralding the day. I hauled myself out of the dusty old bed, stretching with a groan.
"Ughhh."
My back cracked with a satisfying pop. The mattress sucked, leaving me stiff, but at least I wasn't pulling all-nighters anymore—no real fatigue to speak of. I shuffled up, splashed some water on my face, changed into my servant uniform, and just like that, I was ready for the daily grind.
Ducking through the tiny door—barely tall enough to pass without stooping—I stepped into my workplace at last.
"Good morning."
No one around, no one to hear me, but I greeted the day anyway. The hallway stretched wide and bright, a far cry from my dingy hole-in-the-wall. Sunlight poured through the windows, bathing everything in a warm glow. I stopped right in front of the next door—a massive, ornate thing compared to my pathetic slab.
"Hoo. So this is how seals work, huh."
I traced a unique pattern over the eye-shaped emblem carved into the door. Forming the ritual seal made the eye glimmer faintly. Click. The lock released. Standard way to undo a magic-sealed door.
The dorm wasn't some grand building from the outside. But step inside, and it unfolded into a lobby rivaling a mansion—antique furniture, a sweeping staircase to the second floor, even rows of armored stands lining the walls.
I passed them all and came face-to-face with the suit of armor standing sentinel at the base of the stairs. Full plate, impossible to see inside. I cleared my dry throat and offered a greeting.
"Good morning, Sir Grand."
A blue flame flickered to life within the helmet. The armor creaked into motion, a deep voice rumbling out.
"You're early, Lee Hyun."
"I'll go wake the mistress."
"Very well. Proceed."
His name was Grand. A homunculus, a knight forged from magic. Bodyguard to the one who'd summoned me—my mistress. I brushed past him and climbed to the second floor, knocking lightly on the bedroom door.
"Coming in, Mistress."
No reply. I'd expected as much, so I threw the door open without waiting.
Ice princess's chamber. Yeah, that nailed it. Azure furniture, marble floors. A lavish bed dominated the spacious room. The cool blue tones made the air feel chilly at first glance, and there, huddled under the covers, was something.
"Time to get up."
I yanked back the curtains. Warm sunlight flooded in, chasing away the frost. But whatever lurked under the blankets—blue-haired and sunlight-averse—only burrowed deeper, wrapping itself tighter.
I grabbed the edge without hesitation and pulled.
"Come on, you know it's time!"
The woman who'd surrendered the blanket without a fight blinked awake slowly, her defenseless posture on full display. Jewel-like blue eyes glared at me, then she sat up bit by bit.
"Clothes."
Short and to the point. I responded in kind.
"Wash up first."
"Water."
"Bathroom's over there."
"Mm."
At least my mistress wasn't some tyrant throwing her weight around. Get her to buy in, and she'd comply. Unique, but workable. As she stumbled off groggily toward the bathroom, I straightened the bed and opened the wardrobe.
"Still not used to this."
Me, picking out a woman's underwear? Yeah, that tracked. Rows of colorful lingerie lined the shelves, neatly arranged. Three months of training, and it still felt off.
"Wear something scandalous since you're being a pain."
A petty act of rebellion—I dug out some sheer black lace from the back and set it aside. She emerged fresh from washing, standing before me. Arms out wide. Ah, this pose. Got it.
"You can at least dress yourself."
"Forgot what you are?"
"A guy from another world."
"Wrong. That's your past. What are you here?"
"...Haa. Your servant, Mistress."
Spot on. Summoned as her servant, I had to play the role of her lackey. If I'd known swordplay, maybe I'd stand beside Grand. Magic? I'd be researching spells with her other servant. But nope—stuck as a basic manservant.
"You know what happens if you defy me."
Oh, I knew. All too well. Tension knotted my gut as I started unbuttoning her nightgown from the collar down. One by one, her pristine white skin emerged at her chest. Flawless, not a speck of imperfection—inhumanly pure.
Down to her breasts, cleavage and blue bra came into view. Not huge, but perfectly proportioned swells. The lingerie was elegantly adorned, not garish.
Doesn't this embarrass her at all?
Normal women would blush at a stranger seeing them like this. But not her—not since day one. She'd stripped bare without a hint of shame. Why? Because I was a "servant." Not a man, in her eyes. Nothing to be shy about.
I finished unbuttoning and slipped off the top. Her frame was a touch petite, but those sharp shoulders and perfect proportions? Artistry itself. Dropping to one knee, I eased down her pants. The ribboned panties staring back made my head spin.
Focus. Harbor any dirty thoughts, and this witch'll turn me into ground meat.
Three months back, when I'd rebelled against this setup—demanding my rights as a man—she'd dragged me to some basement at the academy. What I saw there: humans getting mulched. Been a model servant ever since.
"Ah, Mistress."
"Sena."
"...Sena Michele."
"Not 'Mistress.' Call me Sena, like the other servants."
Was this a whim, or did it mean she saw me as human? Hard to tell with her. Impenetrable as ever. No choice but to obey.
"Sena. One favor—could you handle your own underwear?"
"That's what servants are for."
"But I'm still a guy. Doesn't that embarrass you?"
I mustered some courage, but she just gave me a blank look, like why would it?
"Lee Hyun. You're my servant. Bound to do anything for your mistress. ...Now, undress me."
"...Haa. Yes, ma'am."
Reaching behind, I unhooked the bra. It slid off, baring her back. Tilt my head just so, and there they were—pert, teardrop breasts tipped with tiny pink nipples. Humanity's capacity for such beauty was a gift.
Why's her body gotta be this perfect?
I shoved down the urge and hooked my fingers in her panty strings, sliding them off slowly. White hips, smooth hairless slit. Not flat, nicely shaped, with just the right flare. A dark desire stirred to paint that ass red.
Come to think of it, haven't done anything like that in three months here.
Back home, I'd played all sorts of SM games with my club junior. Wonder how the world's doing now? Am I missing? Did time stop? No way to know—just emptiness.
I fetched the black lace panties and helped her step in. Her hand on my shoulder felt light. Then the bra, wrapping it around and clasping it. As she adjusted it herself, her narrowed eyes flicked over.
"Didn't know I had lingerie like this."
"Didn't you buy it?"
"It was trending at the academy back then. Bought some on a whim, forgot about 'em since I never wore it."
Women had underwear trends too, huh. Vaguely recalled my junior mentioning something similar. Figured Sena didn't care about fads, but apparently she did—deep down. Kinda cute.
Next, the academy uniform: cute skirt and blouse, short cape. Adorable for a witch slinging deadly spells.
"Let's go."
As we exited, Grand awaited with knightly formality.
"Sena. Did you sleep well?"
"Thanks for watching over me again tonight."
With Grand and me in tow, we stepped out of the dorm. Someone was waiting—a redhead with a lizard-like red dragon perched on her shoulder, bowing formally to Sena.
"Did you rest well, Miss Sena?"
Julia. Maid to Sena's noble house, the Micheles. Noble blood like Sena, but unlike me, she was a witch too. She greeted Sena with a warm smile, then spotted me trailing behind. Instant scowl. Ah, the same shit-eating grin after three months. My face hardened in response.
"Still alive this morning, you useless magical byproduct?"
Her theatrical jab dripped with venom. I debated clapping back but decided against fighting in front of Sena. Ignored her completely. Brushed right past.
"Ignoring a witch now, servant? If not for Miss Sena, you'd be basement hamburger."
I tuned her out entirely. Sick of the provocations. Servants disrespecting witches? Unheard of. But I treated her like air.
By now, you get the picture. The treatment I got around here.