Chapter 7 A Perfectly Ordinary Day
Edited by: Kanaa-senpai
The day after, I wasn’t exactly in high spirits.
Sure, the time I spent with Maggot-san yesterday was wonderful—it left me feeling warm, even healed in a way.
But here’s the thing.
The relentless grind of study life and the whirlwind of changes lately had been piling up invisible exhaustion. I’d tried not to think about it, but let’s be real—I’d spent eight years in a meaningless void.
Honestly, the only reason my mind hasn’t completely shattered is probably my laid-back nature. At four years old, I was plugged into that machine, wasting two-thirds of my life in a pointless virtual reality. And not just any years—my childhood, the sensitive period when a person’s personality takes shape. Logic says those experiences stick with you for life. If I’d been a normal kid with no past life to lean on, losing my parents and siblings would’ve left me with an anxiety disorder by now.
On top of that, my body’s a wreck.
Even though the machine’s administration kept me free of major health issues, normal growth? Not a chance. I spent eight crucial years—the ones where your body grows the most—bedridden.
So, naturally, when I threw myself into exercise for the first time in forever, the result was predictable. I was hit with hellish muscle soreness.
Sleepy. Drained. Body hurts.
It was practically my first taste of muscle soreness, and damn, it was intense. I couldn’t even drag myself out of bed.
That day, when I didn’t respond no matter how long they waited, Cult Slut-san made a huge fuss outside my room, worried out of her mind.
In the end, she insisted I take the day to rest.
So, there I was, half-awake, rolling around in bed all morning. The pain was so bad I couldn’t even sleep.
I thought about calling Maggot-san over to chat and kill time, but Cult Slut-san was so concerned about my condition that she called a doctor and rallied the other Imperial Guards. No chance for casual conversation.
From her perspective, my sudden pain was a mystery. I couldn’t exactly come clean and say it was because of our… late-night activities. That was the tough part.
* * *
The next day, still recovering, I was ordered to rest again for good measure.
The Imperial Guards were apparently on edge, freaking out over my “mysterious” pain.
Even at night, they kept watch outside my room in rotating shifts.
So, even after I started feeling better, I was stuck in bed for a while longer. I’d been so looking forward to some quality time with Maggot-san—on mutual terms, of course—but these were rough days.
I’m causing everyone so much worry.
Even Maggot-san, who knew the real reason behind my condition, was beyond concerned—her worry meter was off the charts. In her gentle but firm tone, she insisted I hold off on any… activities until I was fully recovered.
What a letdown.
* * *
A few days later, I was finally back on my feet.
The Imperial Guards gave me permission to go out, and I found myself at the Indoor Park in Kujukuritown.
The male section of the park had several spots for sunbathing, where sunlight was piped in through some optical fiber-like system. In this town—completely indoors—they used a mysterious substance to distribute real sunlight, collected from elsewhere, to various parks. Everyone there was relaxing freely, accompanied by a few Imperial Guards.
Kujukuri town is entirely indoors. Sure, we get nutrient rations to stay healthy, but sometimes you just crave sunlight. I was in the mood to soak up some vitamin D.
The lights in my room worked the same way, but there’s something about being surrounded by the green of plants that just hits different.
That’s when I saw another guy for the first time. He was average build, maybe a bit on the thin side. When I gave a slight nod in greeting, he shot me a suspicious look and ignored me.
The park was filled with nature under the white ceiling, sunlight streaming from pipes, and the cool sound of a fountain echoing softly. Why’s it so quiet? I wondered, then realized—no birds.
”Everyone here seems kinda… cold,” I muttered. “Every person I meet gives me a weird look.”
”It’s a mystery, isn’t it?” came the reply.
”A mystery, huh…”
”Yup, yup! Maybe they’re just shy—don’t worry about it!”
Behind me stood a tall, muscular woman—not gorilla-like, but fit. Her name was Vocal Slut-san, my Imperial Guard and security officer. Bright, energetic, and strikingly beautiful, she had her hair tied back in a ponytail. She radiated the vibe of someone who lives for exercise—like she could burst into a workout any second.
Honestly, her breasts and hips looked… firm. Like, tightly packed healthy muscle. A volleyball player, maybe?
I need to get to know her better and find out the truth.
Normally, I’d have two bodyguards, but the other one—Sow-san, the white-uniformed Small-Breasted Lady—had been out of commission since day one. So, Vocal Slut-san was handling personal security solo.
Her nickname, by the way, came from the other Imperial Guards because she’s so loud. Harsh, but fair.
”Don’t just say random stuff!” Cult Slut-san chimed in from behind. “The reason they’re acting like that is because a boy your age, who should be at the academy, is wandering around the town park. Of course they’re suspicious!”
”Oh, that makes sense,” I said. “Cult’s pretty sharp, huh?”
”Watch your language!”
Yeah, it clicked. No wonder people were giving me odd looks. There weren’t any other guys my age around because they’re all at Ichihara School, the boarding academy in the central district. To them, a kid who looks like a third or fourth grader hanging out in the town park is a total mystery.
But Vocal Slut-san wasn’t being disrespectful—not at all. She just grinned at me, her eyes sparkling with genuine affection. It was obvious she liked me.
”Cult Slut’s sneaky,” she teased. “Hogging Master all to herself. Even Crybaby says so!”
”…That’s not true,” came a small voice.
Behind them was a petite figure, almost like a little spirit—Crybaby-san.
Today was a picnic in the park with Cult Slut-san, Vocal Slut-san, and Crybaby-san—the day to formally introduce my Imperial Guard entourage. They were thrilled to be my attendants, and it showed.
Still, our noisy group stood out in the park. Male outings aren’t supposed to be disrupted like this. Bodyguards should be quiet, discreet—practically invisible to be top-tier.
But the sunlight felt warm. The artificial breeze was so pleasant. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, savoring it.
”Look at him, all happy,” Crybaby-san murmured. “Our Master’s so cute…”
”Hey, that’s disrespectful, Crybaby,” Vocal Slut-san said, then hesitated. “But, yeah… he is cute.”
”…Cute,” Cult Slut-san added softly.
I still couldn’t believe these older sisters were here to serve me, like I’d stepped into a theme park—a cabaret club-themed one, at that. My excitement was through the roof.
But seeing other guys in the park, tense and at odds with their female bodyguards, gave me an odd, uneasy feeling.
Guess this world has its own common sense.
For now, I decided to let it go.
* * *
Standing beside me was the tiny Crybaby-san, our Foreign Affairs Officer. She handles behind-the-scenes work like school enrollment paperwork and travel permissions between regions. Honestly, with her quiet demeanor and barely saying a word, I couldn’t help but wonder how she manages such a role.
The only time I’d heard her voice since her greeting at the hospital was just moments ago. It’s a cute, delicate voice that matches her petite frame. Her eyes are half-hidden behind plain braids, giving her a shy, understated vibe. She’s not the type you’d want to dote on so much as worry about, like a father concerned for his withdrawn daughter.
That said, she’s about my height. Which is to say, I’m pretty small.
After wandering the park for a bit, I flopped down onto the grass. A leisure sheet would’ve been fine, but sometimes you just want to feel the softness of the grass beneath you. Best of all, this park was insect-free—perfect for rolling around without a care.
In a natural park, ants crawling over you can ruin the vibe, but not here.
For about two hours, I let myself forget everything and just relaxed. I prayed my body was soaking up the sunlight pouring from the ceiling, churning out vitamin D as fast as it could.
With hardly anyone around, I didn’t have to worry about prying eyes. I sprawled out in a big star shape, maximizing my surface area to bask in the light.
Lying there, smelling the earth, I was reminded for a fleeting moment that I’m just an animal at heart.
Man, this feels good…
I was tempted to strip off my shirt and really soak it in, but that’d probably get me in trouble. In this world, going shirtless is basically nude.
…Which got me thinking about the beach. We’re in Chiba, right? Couldn’t I try bodyboarding or surfing? I have no clue about the era or setting here. Information’s so restricted for males—apparently, we’re a rare commodity.
I wouldn’t mind a bit of a tan, either. Sure, the “kindly sickly boy” trope might be a hit with the ladies, but it doesn’t vibe with how I see myself. I’d rather be the energetic type, running around with a bug net chasing Maggots.
Picture this: summer, biting into a watermelon or an ice pop, heading back to a countryside home. Straw hat on, cicadas buzzing, sneaking off to the barn with the neighbor’s older sister for something spicy.
Sleepy… This is nice…
I must’ve dozed off, snoring away, because when I came to, a good chunk of time had passed.
The whole time, my three attendants—Cult Slut-san, Vocal Slut-san, and Crybaby-san—kept quiet as clams, letting me recharge in peace. When I woke up, we chatted lazily, and by evening, we headed back to my room.
It was a day with nothing special, but that’s exactly why it felt so fulfilling.
Then there’s the handwriting ranking.
It’s a self-indulgent contest I started after looking at the replies to letters I sent out a few days ago.
The provisional winner? Crybaby-san. Her elegant style, down to the very tone of her writing, screams culture. It’s the kind of penmanship that leaves you in awe, like a cultural artifact in itself. If Kūkai or Saichō were around, her letters would probably end up in a historical archive, delighting scholars for centuries.
The others are pretty much tied for second. Maggot-san and Cult Slut-san have solid, clean handwriting, but their composition and balance don’t quite match Crybaby-san’s finesse.
And the undisputed last place? Yours truly.
My handwriting would probably amuse artists in the future, but not for the right reasons. It’s like every straight line is fighting to go its own way, like a band with no shared vision. My hiragana looks like it’s given up on life, and my kanji? It’s like they’re being pulled apart in every direction, mid-air explosion style.
If you ran over a Picasso painting with a car, it might look something like this.
It’s not entirely my fault—my lack of study and the fact that this is my first time writing with this body don’t help. Handwriting’s all about building good habits, and virtual practice doesn’t cut it.
Oh, and since I’m the judge and the worst writer, this ranking’s probably not worth the paper it’s written on.
Writing replies feels embarrassing now. I shouldn’t have started this dumb contest… Wait, did someone just say “manko”?
The whole letter-writing thing started when I was hospitalized. I wanted to get to know the Imperial Guards better, so I began corresponding with them. We’re still exchanging letters—it’s good practice for my writing, too.
In this Japan, society runs on paper. Physical communication between regions is cut off—no wired or wireless connections. Mobile phones and email? That’s a Kazusa Country thing, unique to Chiba Prefecture. Cross the prefecture border, and it’s like stepping into another country—another world.
Oh, right, this is a fantasy setting…
I was poring over a reply from Sow-san, the hospitalized guard, spreading her letter out on my desk and groaning.
Okay… what now? I can’t read this.
Look, I know there are excuses, but hear me out—I can’t read. I know that sounds crazy, but I don’t know what to do about it.
Here’s the deal: this world’s Japan has three writing systems.
The only one I can handle is the standard script, used by townsfolk and merchants. It’s basically spoken language with a touch of polish.
Then there’s the male script, a newer system for the male-dominated society. It’s… readable, kind of. Think gal text—flashy and stylized.
For example, if I wanted to write:
”I woke up from a long sleep the other day. I was asleep for eight years. It’s really sad, but now I’m working hard at studying.”
In male script, it’d look like this:
”YO I JUS WOKE UP FROM A MEGA NAP BRO!! BEEN ZZZ’D OUT 4 8 YRS STR8 😭!! SUCKS HARD, BUT NOW I’M GRINDIN’ MAX ON STUDY MODE 💪!”
It gives me a headache, but you can kinda crack it. Like, “working hard” becomes “GRINDIN’ MAX” (total hustle vibes). It’s got a pattern, even if it’s wild. You can toss in regular text too, if you want.
Not every male script is this extreme, but the culture values hard-to-read text for some reason. I think it’s kind of toxic, honestly.
And then there’s the formal letter script. Want to see it? Check a historical archive. To me, it just looks like black worms wriggling and dying on paper. Throwing in a Warring States vibe here is not helping.
But I had to read Sow-san’s letter.
The opening seemed like a kinsukei salutation (a polite, formal greeting)… maybe?
* * *
Three hours later, my butt and back practically fused to the chair, I finally cracked it.
By midnight, I was finally calm.
And then, the moment I’d been waiting for—Maggot-san’s arrival. Now that I was recovered, our sleeping together habit was back on.
After three days of holding back, I was buzzing with pent-up energy, ready to burst. I’d even resisted taking care of things myself, waiting for this moment.
I swear, the second I hug Maggot-san, I might just collapse in a pathetic heap. She’s got me wrapped around her finger…
But tonight, I had a plan. There was something only Maggot-san, with her generous assets, could do for me.
I’d been pacing my room like a leopard trapped in a savanna cage, restless and ready.
If this kept up, I’d probably lose all my hair from stress and crash into a wall.
”…Maggot, at your service.”
She’s here!
”Come in, quick!”
”Y-Yes…”
The door clicked as the lock turned. My frantic tone must’ve startled her, because Maggot-san stepped in looking slightly surprised. In the dim light of the night, she seemed especially alluring tonight—her gentle eyes and full chest radiating a warm, inviting charm.
Sure, she probably looked the same as always. It’s just that I was so pent up, everything about her felt amplified.
Still, I had this overwhelming urge to call her Mother and cling to her. Not “Mama,” but Mother—something about her just made that word feel right. I don’t know why.
”Sorry, Maggot-san,” I said, my voice shaky. “It’s been a while, so I might not be able to hold back tonight.”
As we moved to the bedroom, Maggot-san didn’t hesitate. With a slightly troubled look, she gently stopped my fumbling attempts to undress her and took off her clothes herself, one piece at a time. Then she helped me out of mine, guiding me to lie on the bed, ready to receive me.
There was a no-nonsense efficiency to her actions, not quite what you’d expect from a woman who cares about atmosphere. She must’ve sensed my urgency, choosing action over words to meet my needs. It was a gesture of loyalty, putting my desires first.
”Maggot-san, please… breast play! I’m begging you!”
”…What sort of act is that, my lord?”
We were sitting naked on the bed, facing each other. Her pale, curvaceous body—those large breasts—filled my vision. I was already on the edge.
I did my best to explain, stammering through the details while trying not to lose it. Maggot-san gave me a skeptical look.
”I understand,” she said slowly. “But… where did you learn of such a thing?”
”Learning simulation!” I blurted out.
”…”
A cold glint flickered in her eyes, like someone staring at a broken appliance they’d finally given up on. In that moment, I swear I felt the virtual reality cradle that raised me for eight years get sentenced to destruction.
Without a word, Maggot-san gently pushed me down onto the bed.
Her face drew closer, her long hair brushing against my skin, tickling me. Her breath grazed my cheek, carrying a sweet scent I couldn’t place. Her face and those massive breasts filled my entire view.
”You mustn’t ask such things of your future spouse,” she whispered softly.
”U-Uh…”
She lowered her body slightly, and then her breasts enveloped me completely.
Wait, what? My entire lower half disappeared into her chest. Her breasts were so large they covered not just my groin but my thighs, too. It was almost… heavy. Soft, fluffy warmth pressed against me, overwhelming.
This is too much.
I’d suspected it might be like this, but my p***is was nowhere to be found—completely buried, no tip peeking out from her cleavage.
”Here I go, my lord,” she said, pressing her breasts together with both hands and moving them slowly up and down.
”Oh, no, wait—this is too much!”
It felt insanely good. I’d heard breast play wasn’t supposed to feel this amazing, but what was this?
She stopped abruptly.
”Haa… haa…” I gasped, trying to catch my breath.
”Was there an issue, my lord?” she asked, her brow furrowing slightly.
”N-No, it’s just… why does it feel this good?”
Her cheeks flushed, a smile breaking through her usual composed expression. Joy seeped out, impossible to hide.
”I wasn’t taught that a male could find such pleasure in intercourse,” she said, her voice soft but warm. “Seeing Your Lordship like this—so spirited, so endearing—it fills my heart with delight.”
She lifted her breasts once, then lowered them gently, a single deliberate motion.
”W-Wait, stop! I’ll finish too soon!”
”My apologies, my lord.”
I mean, I wouldn’t mind finishing, but it felt like a waste to end it so quickly.
She looked at me with such affection, like a woman gazing at a puppy or a baby. I couldn’t even be mad.
Blushing furiously and breathing heavily, I tried to reason with her. “Slower, please. Don’t rush it, I’m begging you.”
”…Understood.”
I wanted to savor this for at least ten minutes.
True to her word, she took her time, rubbing me gently with her breasts. When I asked her to position her areola and nipple just right, she obliged without hesitation.
This was beyond incredible. Whoever said breast play wasn’t great was dead wrong.
But maybe it was only this good because of Maggot-san’s uncanny ability to read me. Her control over pressure was almost divine—she was a sorceress of breast play.
Then, she went further, carefully peeling back my foreskin within the warmth of her chest.
When I asked her to ease up, her breasts spread softly over my hips. The sensitive tip of my p***is barely peeked out. I asked her to take it in her mouth, and though she gave me a puzzled look, she agreed.
”Mmm… mm…”
It felt so good.
Her technique was clumsy at first, but she quickly learned, watching my reactions. The sound of her lips, like a dog lapping at water, echoed in the dark room.
Her refined face was flushed, fully focused on pleasing me. Her hardened nipples pressed against my hips, the visual alone pushing me to the edge.
Maggot-san, I love you. Breast play is the greatest cultural invention…
”I can’t hold back anymore,” I gasped. “Keep going—faster at the end!”
”Mmm… mm…!”
I let out a cry as her movements quickened, the stimulation overwhelming.
It hit me faster than I expected.
”Swallow it all!”
”Mmph…!?”
A rush flooded her mouth. My p***is pulsed, each wave leaving her lips slick.
”Ugh… cough…”
”Sorry, it came so suddenly. You okay?”
”I am… fine, my lord.”
Choking slightly, she swallowed my semen in small gulps. This world probably didn’t have a culture of swallowing, so she must’ve been shocked but followed through anyway. A bit dribbled at the corner of her mouth.
Maybe because it was my request, she wiped it with her finger and swallowed that, too.
”You don’t have to push yourself,” I said, sitting up and rubbing her back gently.
I noticed her checking the sheets, scooping up a stray drop of semen with her finger and licking it clean.
”No, it’s fine, you don’t have to do that!”
”Serving Your Lordship is my joy,” she said, her tone formal yet warm. “Please lie back; I’ll take care of the rest.”
She gently pushed me down again, licking the lingering drops from my p***is, even sucking out what remained in my urethra.
I wasn’t ready for it. It felt insanely good.
Having just finished, I was hypersensitive, but she was gentle, her touch perfect. This woman might be a genius at this.
”Oh, right,” I realized. “You wouldn’t know what fellatio is, would you?”
Yeah, that made sense.
It clicked.
The things I know about intimacy and what Maggot-san was taught about men are totally different. When I told her to swallow, she took it to mean every last drop, even licking up what spilled. Normally, no one would do that, but she must’ve thought it was part of the “common sense” I picked up in the learning simulation.
Swallowing isn’t some sacred ritual, like drinking from a holy grail for immortality or something.
Still, her devotion made my heart swell with joy, even if it came with a pang of guilt—like I was tricking her somehow. It all mixed together into this overwhelming feeling of affection for her.
”Thanks, Maggot-san,” I said softly. “That’s enough.”
”…Yes, my lord.”
As she lifted her face, a thin strand of saliva stretched from her lips to my tip, glistening in the dim light.
”So, uh… I hate to ask after all that, but I’m already wanting more. Is that okay?”
”Of course, my lord.”
Just looking at her, I was hard again. Usually, one round with her leaves me satisfied, but something about her oral attention didn’t bring the usual exhaustion.
I needed to finish inside her. Breast play was incredible, but it felt like a waste to stop there. Maggot-san caught my desperate gaze, saw how much I still wanted her, and gave a faint, knowing smile.
”Tonight, may I take the lead, my lord?”
Can I be the one in control tonight? That’s what she meant.
I let my imagination run wild. Maggot-san doesn’t show much emotion or desire on the surface. But for her, this must be like a girl she’d brought to climax with cunnilingus begging for penetration. As a guy, I could relate to that kind of longing.
Before I knew it, she was on top, guiding my p***is into her.
”Wait—huh? That was fast! Are you okay? No foreplay or anything?”
Her body was already slick, ready for me.
She started moving her hips, and the pleasure was so intense I teared up a little. Maggot-san noticed, and I swear she looked… excited. Maybe really excited.
”No, it’s too good!” I gasped. “Slow down, please, I can’t handle it!”
”My apologies, my lord.”
I clamped my thighs together, trying to slow her down. She eased up, but instead of quick thrusts, each motion became deeper, longer, more deliberate.
”Is this pace suitable, my lord?”
”S-Slower’s just as bad…!”
A hoarse whimper escaped my throat. I could barely breathe.
Her v****al walls tightened around me, gripping my entire length. Waves of pleasure shot up my spine, electric and overwhelming.
Each time she lowered her hips, she seemed to shudder lightly, like she was reaching small peaks of her own.
I’d thought her devotion was what drove her earlier, swallowing so carefully. But now? I started to wonder if she knew exactly how I felt and was teasing me on purpose.
I can’t keep up with her. She’s too clever for me.
I hit my limit and came hard while she rode me. The familiar wave of exhaustion washed over me instantly.
”Sorry… I’m so sleepy,” I mumbled. “Is it okay if I just pass out like this?”
”Yes, my lord. Rest.”
She pulled me into her arms, her face glowing with quiet fulfillment. Her large, sweet-scented breasts enveloped my face.
My consciousness faded, sinking into her warmth.
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Edited by Kanaa-senpai.
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