The room was silent.
Too silent.
Akira Kitagawa shifted under his thin blanket, the only sounds being the rhythmic ticking of his wall clock and the soft hum of Tokyo's night beyond his window. He had just barely drifted into sleep when something warm—and very soft—pressed against his chest.
Then his nose was filled with the scent of lavender and… something faintly sweet. Like magic sugar and heat.
He opened his eyes.
And saw a girl's cleavage hovering inches from his face.
"...WHA—WHAT THE—!?"
Before he could flail, scream, or throw himself off the futon, a delicate finger pressed against his lips.
"Shhh," Sera whispered, smiling mischievously. "You'll wake your neighbor. Or scare off the spirits."
"What are you—why are you—are you on top of me!?"
She giggled. "You talk too much for someone who's about to become my Master."
Akira froze.
She was sitting astride his waist, the hem of his T-shirt barely covering the tops of her thighs. The fabric strained tightly around her huge chest, every curve outlined in moonlight. Her silver hair spilled over her shoulders like flowing water, and her glowing eyes shimmered with something dangerous. Magical glyphs slowly hovered around them, etched in golden light.
Sera Rymer, sorceress from another world, had broken into his bed.
In the middle of the night.
To form a magical pact.
With boob massage involved.
"This isn't how contracts are made!" Akira hissed, trying to shimmy away without making it look like he was enjoying anything.
"This is how mine are," she said, reaching down to grab his right hand—and guiding it straight toward her chest.
He yelped. "Y-You can't just—!"
"Don't worry," she whispered, voice velvety and soft. "It's for mana circulation. You touch. I bind. Simple."
His trembling fingers barely brushed the underside of her breast—and magic pulsed through his palm like a shot of heat. His breath caught.
Sera shivered. "See? You're already resonating with me."
"Why does magic feel like second base!?"
"The spell needs stimulation. Physical connection heightens the pact. That's what the manual said."
"You have a manual!?"
She didn't answer. Instead, she leaned in closer, her face inches from his. Her breath tickled his lips.
"Say the words," she murmured. "Say, 'I accept the bond.'"
Akira swallowed hard. His brain screamed at him to run. His body… well, it had other ideas.
"I… accept the bond," he whispered.
Light flared across his hand—and that's when things got weird.
Sera took his index and middle fingers and slowly—deliberately—pressed them between her breasts.
"You're the vessel," she said, voice husky. "Your soul guides mine. As long as I bear your crest, your will is my command."
His fingers tingled, soaked in both magic and something definitely not safe for school. Her skin was hot, flushed. The glyphs danced faster.
Sera moaned softly—"Nnnh… don't stop... The mana flow's peaking... just a bit more... push inward…"
"I swear this is either a hentai or a religious hallucination," Akira muttered.
The shirt she wore slipped slightly, revealing even more skin, as she moved to press her chest tighter around his hand. The symbols glowed gold and red now, swirling around her neck, her collarbone, her belly.
Then—snap.
The crest sealed.
A small, flame-like tattoo branded itself over Akira's wrist.
Sera exhaled sharply, slumping onto him with a satisfied grin.
"It's done," she whispered. "You're officially my Master now."
"You used me," he said, half-dead, voice muffled by her boobs pressing into his face. "I feel violated in like seven dimensions."
"You're welcome," she giggled.
Then she licked his neck.
"WH—WHY!?"
"Seals it properly. Just a little mark for fun."
Suddenly—
SLAM!
The door burst open.
Kurumi Ogino stood there. In pajamas. Hair messy. Holding a slipper like a weapon.
And she saw everything.
Sera straddling Akira. Shirt nearly see-through from sweat. Akira with glowing fingers still awkwardly stuck in cleavage territory.
And Sera just smiled.
"Oh, hi, neighbor. Want to join the pact too?"
Kurumi's eye twitched.
"Y-You freaking perverts!!"
THWACK!
Akira didn't know whether the blow was meant for him or Sera—but he got hit anyway.
---
To be coninued