"Parents died prematurely... debts accumulated through inheritance... dropped out of school to work full time..."
Rikka read Jin's fabricated file with her eyebrows slightly raised. Every line painted the portrait of a young man crushed by circumstances he didn't choose.
He wasn't a gambling addict or a con artist or a deadbeat. He was someone life had steamrolled without giving him a chance to get back up.
Completely different from the garbage in the previous pages.
She kept reading. Age, work history... Everything fit within the parameters the board had demanded. But unlike the other candidates, this one was different.
There was something about the cleanliness of his file, about the shape of the data, that gave her the impression of someone who kept his head held high despite everything.
'Maybe this one actually has what it takes...'
She turned to the page where the candidate's photograph was attached.
And her fingers stopped.
The face staring back at her from the paper was... absurdly attractive. Defined features, a chiseled jaw, ice colored eyes that conveyed a calm that didn't match someone in his supposed situation. It wasn't the fake beauty of a model.
It was something more... dangerous.
Without realizing it, the tip of her finger was caressing the photo. Slowly tracing the line of that jaw on the paper.
Her tongue slid across her lower lip. A quick, involuntary gesture that would have horrified anyone who knew the stoic Headmistress Sumeragi.
'He fits perfectly with my...'
The thought formed halfway before her brain intercepted it.
"Wait! What am I thinking...?"
Pulling her hand away from the photo as if it burned, she shook her head sharply. A faint blush tinted her cheeks beneath her glasses.
She cleared her throat even though no one was listening.
"What matters for a special counselor is his professional ability and his temperament..." she muttered, composing herself. "Appearance is completely irrelevant."
Not even she believed those words.
She turned the page with renewed determination, looking for the medical exam results to evaluate something more objective than that face.
And what she found on the last page wiped away every thought, professional or otherwise.
The physical exam numbers were there, but what they said made no sense. Grip strength, lung capacity, cardiovascular endurance, reaction time, muscle density... every value was so absurdly above normal parameters that it looked like a printing error.
No. It wasn't an error. There was an attached photo from the body examination.
"..."
She stared at the image.
"...Is this... human?"
With her mouth hanging open, her eyes widened and her back separated from the chair.
What the photograph showed was a body that didn't belong to an indebted twenty year old kid.
It was the physique of something the gods would have sculpted on their most inspired days: dense, defined muscles in proportions that defied human genetics, without a single gram of excess, every muscle group visible as if the skin were barely a veil over a masterpiece.
And further down...
Rikka's eyes descended through the photo to a certain region that the medical exam had captured in detail.
"..."
Her violet pupils dilated.
She slammed the folder shut and brought a hand to her mouth.
The fifth person's file sat unopened on the desk. She looked at it for a second, pushed it aside without opening it, and pressed the intercom with a finger that was trembling.
"Go bring this Tsubakihara Jin! Now!"
...
Jin followed the secretary. She knocked twice, received a "come in," and stepped aside with a bow before closing the door behind him.
The office smelled of expensive perfume.
And behind the desk, Rikka Sumeragi was waiting for him.
The first impression was exactly what he had anticipated from what he remembered, but seeing her in person was a different story. The images didn't do her justice. That black hair pinned up with the silver streak falling across her forehead, the sharp violet eyes behind the glasses, the red suit hugging a body with proportions that bordered on the unreal... It all composed an image of feminine authority as intimidating as it was sinful.
The combination of that exaggerated figure with the icy expression she pinned on him from her chair ignited something familiar in his chest.
The desire to conquer her.
But first, information.
With a thought, an invisible wave of Magnetic Field Rotation expanded from his body and enveloped Rikka imperceptibly.
In the realm of one hundred thousand horsepower, reading thoughts was as natural as breathing, so long as the target's power was inferior to his own.
And Rikka, as powerful as she was, wasn't even remotely close to that level.
Her thoughts flowed toward him like an open river.
'Accumulated pressure... chronic stress... a desire for release she had been repressing her entire life... the board of directors and their true intentions... the counselor plan... Asagi... Taimanin...'
'Taimanin!'
So Rikka had a direct connection to the Taimanin through Asagi.
This is getting much more interesting.
From her side of the desk, Rikka examined the young man before her with the meticulousness of someone appraising a piece of art before bidding.
He was young... Younger than she expected. With a face that in person was even more striking than in the photo, and although he retained a touch of youthful innocence, that didn't make him look weak. On the contrary. That innocence made him more... appetizing.
'Enough!'
She scolded herself mentally, but her eyes kept scanning him.
What caught her attention the most was the feeling Jin transmitted.
There was something clean about him, a natural uprightness that radiated from his posture, from his direct gaze, from the way he stood before her without shrinking or drooling. A brutal contrast with the other candidates.
'For now, 9 points.'
Even among the lowest strata of society, people like this appeared from time to time: people who refused to be stained by the filth that surrounded them.
Leaning over the desk, she rested her elbows on the surface and interlaced her fingers beneath her chin.
The movement crushed her tits against the wood. Those two heavy breasts compressed under the fabric, spilling to the sides, pressing against each other until they formed a deep, tight channel that swallowed the blouse fabric.
"Tsubakihara Jin, correct? I am the headmistress of this academy, Sumeragi Rikka, and I will be your interviewer." Her voice was controlled. "Tell me, what do you consider to be your competitive advantages for this position?"
"..."
Silence.
Jin didn't respond.
Rikka waited. One second passed... Two...
And then he moved.
His hands went to the collar of his shirt. The buttons gave way one by one under his fingers with calm.
The shirt fell.
?
Rikka blinked.
The belt followed. Then the pants.
When the fabric hit the floor and Jin stepped forward, standing in front of the desk wearing nothing but his underwear, Rikka's eyes had already widened to a point her glasses couldn't contain.
But he wasn't done.
With the same naturalness as if he were handing over a resume, he pulled down his boxers.
And what sprang free before the headmistress's eyes was something that no medical exam, no clinical photo, no number in a file could prepare anyone to see in person.
"This is my competitive advantage, Headmistress."
Looking her directly in the eyes, Jin wore a calm smile.
"What do you think?"
"..."
Rikka had frozen in her chair.
Her mouth opened. No sound came out.
Her eyes dropped involuntarily from Jin's face to what was in front of her, and there they stayed. Locked. Unable to move.
The photo hadn't lied... But it hadn't told the full truth either.
What she saw in person was EXCESSIVELY larger than the image had suggested: thick, long, with pronounced veins running along it that gave it an appearance of raw vitality, throbbing slightly as if it had a pulse of its own.
And it was erect, pointing right at her.
The size was... terrifying. In the best possible sense of that word.
The image pierced through her brain like a flaming arrow, lodging itself in a place she had been ignoring for years and that now screamed at her with a force that left her breathless.
'10 POINTS!'
Under the desk, her legs pressed together. The heat climbed from her neck to her cheeks, tinting her skin a pink that didn't match at all with the expression of authority she was trying to maintain.
Without saying a word, without taking her eyes off where she shouldn't have been looking, she extended a trembling hand toward the phone beside the desk.
She dialed the secretary's extension.
"Tell the others to leave. The interviews are over."
?
"But... Headmistress, didn't you only interview one person?"
"Hmm?"
"U-Understood. I'll go tell them to leave right away."
Click
Satisfied, Rikka addressed Jin.
"Jin-kun, congratulations on being admitted to the academy."
"However..." Her eyes rose to Jin's eyes with visible effort. "Before you officially assume your position, I need to conduct a final evaluation."
"..."
Jin watched her in silence...
And couldn't help but laugh.
Making Rikka narrow her eyes.
"So... you're questioning my abilities, Headmistress?"
The tone was respectful. The smile was not.
He circled the desk slowly, unhurried, uncovered, letting her watch him approach in all his magnitude. Rikka didn't back away. But her breathing visibly quickened when he stopped beside her chair, so close that the heat from his cock reached her.
And then Jin lifted his hips and dropped the weight of his cock directly onto her breasts.
"Mmm~..."
"That's right♥️..." Rikka moaned with a tremor she wasn't even trying to hide anymore. "As headmistress, I must verify your... authenticity. Confirm that you are more than just an empty appearance."
The greed in her eyes was impossible to conceal now.
Dilated pupils, the gleam, the way her gaze traveled up and down the length resting on her breasts as if she were memorizing every vein, every part, every inch of that monstrosity.
Her hands rose and wrapped around the base.
Or tried to. Her fingers couldn't even wrap around half the circumference. The difference in scale between those feminine hands and what they were holding was almost comical.
Rikka looked at her own fingers as if they had betrayed her, and something between disbelief and arousal crossed her face.
She opened her mouth.
Her wet lips parted and enveloped the head with a caution that betrayed her inexperience.
Her jaw had to open far wider than she had anticipated just to accommodate the girth, and when the tip finally entered the heat of her mouth, a shudder ran through her shoulders.
She tried to go deeper.
She swallowed inch by inch with determination, her tongue crushed by the volume, but at less than a third of the length, the head hit the back of her throat.
"Cough... cough..."
Pulling back quickly, Rikka had watery eyes and a string of saliva connecting her lips to the tip.
She coughed twice, the gag reflex tinting her cheeks a deeper red, but in her waterlogged eyes there was defiance.
"You... cough... I a-approve of your length." She said with her mouth glistening with saliva and her glasses fogged up. "Next is..."
Swallowing him again, her cheeks caved in.
A fierce suction.
Her cheeks hollowed inward with a pressure that wrung an animal growl out of Jin, and that hot, clumsy tongue coiled around the tip, licking him in a spiral, savoring him slowly as if every vein and every fold were something she needed to brand into her mouth forever.
"Glug~... mmm~♥️... mmph~..."
Wet sounds filled the office, bouncing off the framed diplomas like a profanation.
Saliva dripped from Rikka's chin in thick threads that fell between her tits, soaking her blouse until it turned transparent.
Jin already felt the pressure building.
Her mouth had no idea what it was doing. She didn't have Mira's rhythm or tricks, and he didn't care. What she had was hunger. That raw hunger of a novice who took him in as deep as she could, who sucked too hard, who licked with no pattern, who gagged and tried again with even more enthusiasm.
It was the kind of messy, desperate blowjob that only a woman who just discovered that having a cock in her mouth turns her into a bitch in heat can give. And that, that clumsy, genuine eagerness, was hotter than any technique.
When he reached the limit, he didn't warn her.
The orgasm hit him hard and he unloaded directly inside her mouth. Jets of hot cum that burst in volleys against Rikka's palate and throat, filling her mouth within seconds.
Her eyes flew wide open. Her cheeks puffed out with the volume that wouldn't stop coming, and a white thread escaped from the corner of her lips before she managed to press them shut.
She swallowed.
It was hard. It took her several attempts, several throat contractions that Jin could feel, but she managed.
All of it.
Down to the last drop.
'Greedy.'
When he finally pulled out of her mouth, Rikka collapsed against the chair, and slowly, as if presenting evidence, she opened her mouth.
Her tongue peeked out between her lips. The surface, normally pink, was coated in a white layer she hadn't quite managed to swallow completely, and the scent filled her every breath.
"Your volume and concentration... are excellent."
"Did I pass?"
Wiping her chin with the back of her hand, Rikka fixed her gaze on him with a new intensity.
"There is one final evaluation..."
Whispering, her hands descended to the waist of her own clothes, the clasp of her skirt gave way with a click, and the red fabric loosened over her hips. She unfastened the buttons of her blazer one by one, revealing the saliva soaked blouse that served as less than nothing: her enormous breasts were visible through it, nipples pressing hard and dark against the fabric, and then the blouse fell too.
She stood up.
The skirt slid off her hips as if the fabric were as eager as she was, gliding to the floor. And underneath there was nothing. Just skin.
Just the black stockings squeezing her thighs, framing everything that remained exposed between them.
No panties. Nothing.
The headmistress had come to this interview without panties.
She pushed Jin into her own chair with both hands on his shoulders. He fell seated, and she positioned herself standing in front of him, looking down at him with an expression that mixed authority, hunger, and a fear she tried to hide without success.
"Let's see if you can... serve as a school counselor…"
...
The light of the setting sun flooded the headmistress's office, tinting every surface in a warm amber that transformed the room.
The large windows reflected two overlapping silhouettes against the orange sky.
One masculine, broad, dominant. The other feminine, small, curved and arched against the glass as if wanting to merge with it.
PLAP♥️! PLAP♥️! PLAP♥️!
The rhythmic, fleshy sound of skin against skin bounced around the office, mixing with the creaking of the glass.
Rikka's fingers were firmly pressed against the window, but with each thrust her hands slipped, leaving wet trails of sweat on the surface that slid down like tears.
Her fingertips trembled, unable to find grip, and with every thrust her mouth fell open, letting out sounds she would have denied being capable of producing.
"Ngh... hah... mmah~♥️...! Ah...!"
Beneath her hands, her breasts... those enormous breasts that the red suit had contained all afternoon were now smashed against the cold glass.
And each thrust squeezed them even flatter, deforming them into two discs of flesh that spread outward, only to bounce back to their round shape just to be crushed again.
PLAP♥️!
Another thrust.
Behind her, Jin had his hands locked around that tiny waist his fingers wrapped around completely. A little hourglass waist that exploded into fat, trembling ass cheeks that took the impact of his pelvis with full fury.
And between those cheeks, his cock disappeared with every thrust, like magic.
Burying it to the hilt.
The size was so monstrous that Rikka's belly bulged every time he hit the deepest point, a brief but unmistakable protrusion that appeared and vanished beneath her skin with every stroke.
PLAP! PLAP♥️! PLAP! SPLSH♥️!
The sound had turned dirtier. Rikka's juices had been running down her thighs wrapped in stockings that were already soaked for a while now, and every thrust produced a splash that spattered both of them and dripped to the floor, forming a glistening puddle.
"Rikka-chan, did I pass?"
"Mmm~... y-you... ah~♥️... ngh~♥️..."
Tilting her neck to one side, her reflection in the glass returned an image she didn't recognize.
Her face was consumed by pleasure.
Her cheeks were burning, her glasses dangled from one ear, and several strands of hair had plastered themselves to her cheeks and forehead. The bun had come undone long ago and the cascade of hair along with the silver streak tumbled down her sweaty back.
A thread of drool hung from the corner of her lips and swayed with each impact, glistening.
'I look... like this.' -PLAP♥️!
Her thought was swept away by another thrust.
PLAP! PLAP♥️! PLAP! PLAP♥️!
The pace quickened. Jin was wrecking her at a tectonic rhythm, sinking his full length with every stroke and pulling back before plunging into that tight, warm pussy again.
Rikka's ass cheeks shook like jello, bouncing in waves that rippled through her thighs and back.
And she knew he was tormenting her on purpose.
Every time she felt herself approaching the edge, he slowed down.
Every time she tried to move her hips on her own to speed the climax along, he squeezed her waist and held her still, forcing her to take exactly what he wanted to give her and nothing more.
He had stripped her of any ability to fight back from the very first penetration.
Rikka Sumeragi, headmistress of the most prestigious academy in Tokyo, was completely at the mercy of a boy who was fucking her brains out against her own window.
The only thing she could do was endure.
Take it. And feel how every thrust carried her one floor higher in a building of pleasure whose peak she couldn't even see.
"J-Jin... kun... I c-can't... a-anymore..."
PLAP♥️! PLAP!♥️
"No, I... AHHH~~♥️!!"
Her pupils contracted. In the reflection of the glass she saw her own face: eyes bulging with tears streaming down her cheeks, mouth wide open drooling without control, tongue hanging out like a bitch in heat who no longer even knows why she's panting.
It was the most obscene, the filthiest, the most degrading expression she could have ever imagined on her own face.
The kind of face that would have made her die of shame if she could think.
But she wasn't thinking anymore.
PLAP♥️! PLAP! PLAP♥️!
Jin didn't stop, delivering brutal thrusts. Each one piercing through her past the womb, hammering the deepest part of her being.
PLAP! PLAP♥️! PLAP!
Rikka's fingers, which had been clinging to the glass with the last of her strength for minutes, let go. They hung limp at her sides.
Her legs stopped working.
And her entire body lifted.
But Jin didn't stop ravaging her pussy while the orgasm tore her apart. It was like a rocket that ripped her from reality and catapulted her upward with a force that had no ceiling.
She climbed and climbed, every contraction inside her more intense than the last, every spasm more violent, and just when she thought she had reached the peak, one final thrust launched her even higher.
"AHHH~~♥️♥️♥️!!!"
The scream pierced through the office, the hallway, and probably several floors of the administrative building.
Her back arched so violently that her feet lifted off the ground, held in the air solely by Jin's hands on her waist and the cock that kept fucking her.
With her legs trembling uncontrollably and her toes curled to the point of cramping, a jet of fluids gushed between her thighs with the force of a pressurized faucet, splashing the floor, Jin's legs, and the window glass.
"Splash...! Splash...!"
The orgasm stretched on for what could have been ten seconds or ten minutes.
Rikka lost all sense of time as the contractions rocked her like electric shocks, one after another, each one tearing a louder moan from her than the last until all that remained were gasps and the sound of her fluids dripping.
When the final wave finally released her, her body collapsed against the glass.
The window, fogged by sweat, tears, and fluids, barely showed her reflection through the wet layer covering it. But what could be made out was enough: a completely destroyed woman, with glassy, vacant eyes, tongue still hanging out, hair a disaster, and an involuntary smile curving her lips that she had no idea was there.
Against the light of the setting sun, the imprints of her breasts, her hands, and her breath fogged the glass like the most indecent work of art ever displayed in a principal's office.
________
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