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On the other side of the curtain, Alya heard the sound of the fabric being pulled back. She turned around, and the smile on her lips instantly withered.
"Y-you... how are you..."
"What, I'm not allowed to be here? Hehe..."
A low, guttural laugh entered Alya's ears, making her feel as if she had fallen into an ice cellar. The sweaty, bloated figure stepping inside without restraint was the nightmare she had tried to forget: the smirking **Hirano Satoshi**.
"Having a good time, aren't you? Forgot all about me?" Hirano walked closer, his tone mockingly displeased. "After I gave you so much help, you just tossed me aside when you were done. How heartbreaking."
"What do you want?! No, don't do anything reckless—we're still in..."
Before Alya could finish, Hirano pulled her into his arms. Her light summer dress offered no protection; even through the clothes, he could feel the silver-haired girl's smooth skin and her scalding body temperature.
"Let... let me go. There are people everywhere outside," Alya threatened in a low, flushed voice. One scream would ruin this fat bastard and end this lewd nightmare. But at the thought of Masachika waiting outside, Alya bit her lower lip and suppressed the urge to cry out. "Don't... don't do this, someone will find out... mmm~ no!"
Hirano Satoshi didn't care in the least. He only needed to slip in while no one was looking. Not to mention having the girl completely under his thumb, he was a veteran at this. It wasn't his first time in a fitting room.
He gripped the girl's waist as she tried to flee and lightly bit her ear. The carefully prepared floral scent wafted around his nose, intoxicating. Her lightly made-up face was breathtakingly beautiful, and her shimmering lips, coated in warm-colored lipstick, were an irresistible temptation. To assert her dignity as the "main wife," the Silver Princess had fully polished her beauty, but now, with her eyes closed and lids trembling, she was nothing but a siren for a man's lust.
Her delicate body trembled in his arms. He could feel her supple form sliding against him, her firm buttocks rubbing against his member—a sensation so erotic it was maddening. Her gathered, heavy breasts were lost in Hirano's hands, surging like white waves. Her legs turned inward, trying to lock the path to her core, but it was futile as she crumbled under his touch. In the confined space, her body scent, evaporating sweat, and suppressed, enchanting gasps filled every inch as the temperature rose.
"Behave yourself!"
The space was already narrow, and with a man of Hirano's size inside, there was even less room to move. He pinned Alya's hands over her head and pressed her against the wall, his member rubbing against her cleft through the dress. Seeing Alya turn her head, her eyes wide with panic behind her silver hair, he felt his lust flare even higher.
"Don't... not here..." At this point, Alya had no choice but to bow her head, weakly pleading. "Masachika... he's right outside. If he finds out... ah!"
"Don't worry. If I can get in, I can guarantee Masachika won't find out... at least for now." Hirano kissed the back of her ear, satisfied to see her shudder at the sudden assault. "But if you keep resisting, I can't guarantee anything. Do you understand?"
"...I understand."
"Good. Remember, this is a small punishment. Be a good girl, and it'll be over soon." He squeezed her breast again. "First of all, the shop staff work so hard. If you get the clothes dirty, it'll be a hassle for them, right? We shouldn't cause trouble for others."
Alya bit her lip and shifted her body. Seeing her resistance fade, Hirano slowly let go, allowing her to move. With a flushed face, she began to peel the dress off her body inch by inch.
Because the space was small and Hirano made no effort to move, Alya's exposed skin brushed against his body as she moved. She felt a wave of heat, the touched areas tingling, but she could only grit her teeth and bear it, folding the dress neatly and setting it aside.
Hirano's eyes widened. Before him stood the embarrassed, silver-haired beauty, her face flushed with shame and anger. Her tall, voluptuous figure and snow-white skin were displayed without reserve. A white lace bra pushed up her towering breasts, and thin panties held the final line of defense. Her defensive posture—clutching one arm—only served to accentuate her chest. Combined with her look of shame, it was almost impossible not to want to ravish her.
"No matter how many times I see it... what an exaggerated body."
Hirano marveled, his large hands wandering restlessly around her waist. Alya shook uncontrollably, perhaps from the tickling, but she didn't dare defy him.
This was the first time Hirano had seen Alya nearly naked in broad daylight. Though the night at school had been intense, it was a mess of forced uniforms and leather belt restraints. He had spent his time "feasting" on her flesh then, never taking the time to truly appreciate her form like this.
Here, with the sounds of the mall audible just outside, Alya stood exposed, trembling under his gaze. Every curve was perfect—long legs, a slender waist, massive breasts, and a firm rear. She was like a collection of every ideal female trait, a goddess in the flesh.