After the Saintess and her group departed, Freya was left alone in the drawing room.
"I hope this proves helpful..."
Freya opened the book on the table.
It was an ancient tome the Saintess had personally retrieved from the Papal Library archives.
Judging by its age, it was interspersed with an archaic language.
Normally, one would need to summon an archaeologist for translation, but having lived over a thousand years and absorbed all sorts of knowledge, Freya could read ancient tongues.
"Sure enough... there's a lot of unfamiliar content here."
It seemed like it would aid her ongoing magical research.
Just before her mind frayed from utter exhaustion, consulting the Saintess had been the right call.
Thanks to the Saintess's help, her spirit had calmed.
Though it had gotten complicated again when her wayward disciple returned home.
"Ugh..."
Suddenly, heat rushed to Freya's face, and she hid behind the book.
Memories of the bathroom mishap from moments ago flooded back.
Zeke's penis.
Since he'd started growing pubic hair, they'd bathed separately, so the Zeke penis Freya remembered had been small and cute, about the size of a finger.
But what she'd seen today was utterly grotesque.
She knew from illustrations in books what an adult man's penis looked like, but the real thing was longer, thicker, with bulging veins—far more monstrous than imagined.
It was nothing like what she'd pictured.
It was so enormous that when she'd looked up from below, its shadow had covered more than half her face.
They said a woman should lovingly suck her beloved man's penis...
Could she even manage that?
There was some revulsion since it was an organ for expelling waste, but beyond that, she doubted her small mouth could handle something of that size.
"Roughly this thick, right?"
Freya formed a ring with her fingers, gauging the remembered girth.
It had been so thick she couldn't quite touch her fingertips together to complete the circle.
That was how girthy it was.
She brought her approximated thickness to her lips.
"Ahhh—"
She stretched her mouth wide to match.
Even at maximum, it felt insufficient.
Part of it was her small mouth, but Zeke's thing was just huge.
As she imagined stretching her mouth open with her disciple's cock inside, the drawing room door swung open, and Zeke entered after seeing off the Saintess's group.
"I'm back..."
"Ah..."
Their eyes met.
Silence blanketed the drawing room in an instant.
"What are you doing?"
Her mouth agape, tongue lolling out—it looked unseemly, but since he wasn't particularly observant, he didn't quite grasp what she was up to.
That's how Zeke was.
He had no idea his master was fantasizing about his penis and miming fellatio in midair.
"Ha, haaawn..."
Freya yawned.
Obviously, she was faking it.
It was so blatantly forced that it showed.
The irrefutable proof it was fake: ethereal witches didn't yawn.
To be precise, they didn't yawn in daily life.
Witches only yawned and felt fatigue after overexerting their magic.
"I, uh, bathed too long... yeah... feeling a bit tired."
Thus, anyone could tell her words were a lie, a plea to pretend he hadn't seen what he just had.
He decided to go along with it.
Because that's what Freya wanted.
"Shall I carry you to your room to rest?"
"I suppose so."
"Right."
Zeke approached Freya as she started to rise from her seat.
"Pardon me."
"Pardon?"
In that instant, Freya's body was lifted effortlessly.
Zeke scooped her up like a prince rescuing a princess from a fairy tale.
"Kyaa!"
Her feet left the ground, body airborne—Freya yelped in surprise.
"Wh-what the... what are you doing?!"
"I'll escort you to your room, Master."
"Ehh?!"
Freya wriggled, demanding to be put down.
The more she squirmed, the tighter Zeke's thick arms hugged her.
Her eyes wide like a startled cat, Freya wondered if she was dreaming.
But the sharp thumping of her heart against her chest ribcage told her in real time that this was no dream.
"I can walk myself!"
"I'll escort you."
"I said I can walk!"
"When I was little and fell asleep studying magic, you'd carry me to my room just like this."
Zeke changed the subject.
Though annoyed by his brazenness, Freya's flailing limbs gradually stilled. Soon, she entrusted her full weight to him.
Her face pouty, yet unable to hide her joy, the corners of Freya's mouth twitched upward in a dance.
What in the world was happening?
She was glad, but also confused.
Her disciple, who'd always been so cautious about touching her, had changed.
Grown bolder.
This wasn't like him.
"Touching your master's body so casually—such ingratitude."
"Ugh...!"
Zeke flinched as they walked the corridor.
"...You're right, huh?"
His expression darkening, Zeke slowly lowered Freya.
"N-no!"
As he began to set her down, Freya desperately wrapped her arms around his neck, clinging.
"I like how comfy it is anyway."
"Is that so?"
"Yes."
Zeke lifted her again.
"I just bathed, so my body's all languid anyway. Being carried by my disciple like this isn't half bad. Not very masterly, though."
"What does it have to do with being masterly?"
He ascended the stairs carefully.
"Think of it as a disciple repaying his master."
"If it's repayment, become a top-tier mage first."
"Haha."
Zeke just laughed.
If that counted as repayment, he'd already done it.
As a mercenary, he'd fought like a warrior with just a sword, but Zeke's magical hierarchy reached the 17th tier—rivaling a mage tower lord.
He'd long surpassed first-class.
Of course, Freya knew this too.
"So, why the sudden doting?"
"Isn't it a disciple's duty to care for his ailing master? Seeing you ask for my help bit by bit in the bath, I decided from now on, I'll step up without you having to ask."
"So you'll keep carrying me around like this?"
"If you wish, I'll do it every day."
"Don't."
Freya stated firmly.
"Not every day, but..."
Freya's tiny hand gripped Zeke's shirt.
"I'll allow it... occasionally."
"Understood."
Zeke grinned.
Seeing her disciple's warm smile, the master felt her heart flutter.
"Don't get the wrong idea. I'm allowing it because it's comfy, not out of any ulterior motives. Got it?"
"Yes, I understand."
"I'm telling you again—no ulterior motives at all."
"I understand."
Zeke nodded emphatically.
"You're not the type to harbor feelings for your disciple."
"Guh...!"
Stab!
Guilt pierced Freya like a spear.
"...You're doing this on purpose?"
Freya narrowed her eyes, glaring at Zeke.
"Pardon? Doing what?"
"Never mind."
What a cruel disciple.
Remembering that incident and still saying such things—truly wicked.
Right, Zeke had said he remembered that time.
The day they'd confirmed each other's feelings and even had sex.
But it hadn't been a true bond—it was a false one born of drunkenness.
In the end, only her feelings had been real.
That's why Zeke had fled.
Deeply disappointed in his master.
"Ahh...!"
Her mood souring, Freya pinched Zeke's cheek in petty revenge.
"Why the sudden sulk?"
"Hmph, just because."
"Huh?"
Freya turned her head, hiding her sullen expression.
"Let me flip it on you. Surely a disciple wouldn't harbor dark desires for his master, right?"
"None whatsoever."
Zeke answered resolutely.
In truth, he was full of them.
This very action stemmed from those desires.
The Great Saintess had told him to devote himself.
Eventually, devotion would earn forgiveness.
She'd said to be honest in the process, but...
How could he be honest?
He couldn't spit it out.
"Really none?"
"None."
"Really, truly none?"
"Yes, truly none."
"Really, truly, absolutely...!"
"Really, truly, absolutely none."
Freya's mood soured further.
Her lips pouted out.
"For someone so firm, didn't you seem pretty excited during that bath?"
"I wasn't excited."
"What about that spear-stiff cock jabbing at my ass?"
"Wasn't that because you were rubbing your ass against my penis? A man's naturally gets hard with stimulation."
"Me, doing something so vulgar?"
"Not vulgar, but you did grind your ass against my penis—fact."
Not looking at each other, yet both faces flushed red with embarrassment as they conversed.
"I was startled since I didn't expect that kind of contact. Yeah, the surprise was bigger. Men get like that even from shock."
A trial from his master.
He'd failed in the bath.
Tried holding back the erection, but couldn't.
Yet Zeke stubbornly claimed it wasn't failure.
"No alcohol involved—how could a disciple get aroused by his master?"
He'd been massively aroused.
Enormously so in the bath.
How could he not get hard seeing that plump, glutinous rice cake of an ass?
Especially with it pressing and grinding on his dick like that.
Staying sane was achievement enough.
"Even if you rub your ass on my penis now, I won't get erect."
"Oh~? Is that so~?"
It was a slip.
Freya's face beet red, eyes glaring up fiercely at Zeke.
"Then let's test it."
"Pardon?"
Freya slipped from Zeke's arms.
"If you're so confident, prove it right here."
Standing by the window, she hiked her dress skirt up to her waist.
Turned around, bent at the waist, thrusting her ass back toward him.
Her plump rear, prettily wrapped in floral lace panties, loomed suddenly at Zeke's crotch.
"Go on, rub against my ass."
"Pardon?"
"If you get hard, you're done for."
The master offered her ass to her disciple.
Her pink eyes spun wildly, face flushed crimson with shame on the verge of bursting.
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