The morning light poured gently through the drapes as I sat cross-legged in the training room. Saphielle had insisted I start refining my magical control with focused meditation—but she didn't say anything about the method. That part was all Behemoth.
The towering beauty stood before me, arms folded beneath her massive, gravity-defying breasts that strained against her form-fitting outfit. Her golden eyes narrowed with smug determination as she knelt down in front of me and cupped both sides of my face with her strong, gloved hands.
"Concentration is key to advancing your magic," she said, as if reciting from a textbook. "And to achieve peak focus, your mind must be tested against the most tempting distractions imaginable."
I blinked. "So… why are we doing this again?"
Behemoth smiled calmly, then leaned forward, guiding my head toward her chest. "To test the strength of your mental discipline." Her breasts practically glowed with warmth, soft and overwhelming, pressing against my cheeks. "And to simulate stress conditions," she added, pulling me in fully until the world was nothing but the pillowy press of her cleavage and the muffled sound of her heartbeat.
I couldn't even speak. My entire face was sandwiched between two glorious cushions that threatened to smother my sanity more than my airflow. Her arms curled around the back of my head like a warm vice, ensuring I couldn't escape—not that I was making any attempt.
"You're trembling," she whispered down at me. "Is your resolve breaking already, Master?"
I flinched as her voice tickled my ear. I tried to meditate. I really did. I focused on my breathing—or I tried to. But each inhale was just filled with the warm scent of Behemoth's skin, faintly perfumed and utterly intoxicating. Her chest slowly moved with each of her breaths, subtly shifting around my face, causing me to sink deeper between her soft hills. The weight of them… the heat… it was all-consuming.
I mentally recited elemental sequences, tried visualizing spell matrices, anything to keep my mind off the very obvious fact that I was being pressed between two of the most perfectly sculpted breasts in the entire spirit realm.
Then, without warning, the door opened.
"Master—!" came Leviathan's voice, chipper and sweet—until she took one step in and froze mid-sentence. Her violet eyes widened to the size of saucers, her cheeks instantly lighting up like a furnace.
I couldn't even turn to look at her. My face was still lodged firmly in Behemoth's bosom.
Leviathan stood silently, holding a book to her chest, blinking at the scene like it couldn't possibly be real.
Behemoth looked over her shoulder, still calmly cradling my face between her breasts. "Do you need something, Leviathan?"
Leviathan slowly lowered her book and pointed, stammering. "W-What… what are you doing to Master?!"
Behemoth cocked her head. "Helping him meditate."
"Th-That's not how meditation works!" Leviathan sputtered. "Y-You're smothering him!"
Behemoth raised an eyebrow. "He's perfectly fine. Aren't you, Master?"
All I could do was grunt weakly from my plush prison.
Leviathan stomped forward, her bare feet slapping against the wooden floor. Her long twin ponytails bounced with each step, and the closer she got, the redder she turned. "I-I demand equal time! I can help him concentrate too!"
Behemoth blinked. "With what, exactly?"
"With… with m-my chest!" Leviathan shouted. "I-I'm a dragon! My aura is just as spiritually potent as yours!"
There was a pause.
Then Behemoth smiled. "Very well. Let's see if Master's mental fortitude can survive a second round."
I finally pulled my face out of Behemoth's cleavage, gasping for air like I'd just emerged from underwater. My cheeks were flushed, my hair was messy, and my hands were shaking. Leviathan approached slowly, still beet red, clutching her own sizable chest with nervous fingers.
"U-Um… p-please go easy on me," she whispered, kneeling down in front of me and reaching out with shaking hands.
I didn't resist. I couldn't. Her fingers brushed my cheeks gently as she guided my face forward into her chest. She was warm—maybe even warmer than Behemoth—and the moment I pressed against her, she let out a tiny squeak and clutched me tighter.
Her dragon tail thumped the ground nervously behind her as she pulled me into a snug hug. My nose sank between her soft curves, and she whimpered, "S-So soft… I mean, is this soft enough for you… I-I mean, for meditation!"
I tried to focus again, but Leviathan wasn't as composed as Behemoth. She was squirmy, shy, and every tiny movement caused her boobs to jiggle against my face. She tried to stay still—really, she did—but every time she flinched or squeaked or fidgeted, it just made things worse.
"Y-You're doing great, Master," she said breathlessly, voice shaking. "Y-You can, um, stay there as long as you need…"
I could feel her heart racing. Her skin was flushed with heat, and her thighs squeezed tightly together as she tried to control herself. But the second I accidentally exhaled against her skin, she let out a squeak and instinctively hugged me tighter—completely burying my face.
Now I couldn't breathe again.
But it wasn't the lack of oxygen that was killing me—it was the impossible softness, the heat, the way her thighs shifted against mine and her body trembled under the pressure.
Behemoth, watching from nearby, crossed her arms. "You're going to spoil him."
"I-I'm not!" Leviathan whimpered. "I-I just want him to relax!"
"He's going to die of embarrassment before he finds peace."
"I-I'm doing my best!"
Leviathan held me like a body pillow, burying her blushing face in my hair as I was smothered beyond thought. My arms dangled limply at my sides, too stunned to move, too dazed to resist. When she finally loosened her grip a little, I slumped backward onto the floor, blinking up at the ceiling with red cheeks and a blank expression.
Behemoth loomed over me, her lips twitching in amusement. "Failed the meditation, did we?"
Leviathan flailed, kneeling over me in panic. "I-I didn't mean to overwhelm him!"
Behemoth leaned closer. "We'll just have to train him harder next time."
I whimpered quietly as they argued over whose chest made me faint faster.
This wasn't meditation—it was madness.
But I didn't have the strength left to complain.