11. Nipple Masturbation (2)

What’s the big deal about that damn clock.

Or so I thought, but the parts that went ‘pop pop’ when I disassembled it seemed suspicious.

“You definitely said it was mechanical, right?”

I examined the scattered wreckage on the desk once more.

Because I felt like I’d seen parts in it that I’d never encountered in clocks I’d taken apart in my past life.

Shattered gears, bent springs…

“This is…”

A single bead whose purpose I couldn’t discern.

It looked exactly like the magic stones Jane often used in experiments.

“No way.”

A single hypothesis flashed through my mind.

“Gasp! It was a magical artifact!”

No wonder.

She must have been worried that someone ignorant of magic like me might touch it carelessly and cause serious trouble.

But since I was the one who touched and broke it, she’s giving me punishment.

“Tch. If she’d just told me, I wouldn’t have touched it.”

The malicious thought that momentarily crossed my mind was something I decided to simply forget.

No matter how seriously Jane enjoys tormenting me, she wouldn’t be such a pervert as to set traps in things like this.

“…Right?”

I felt slightly depressed.

“Time to go upstairs.”

I had nothing to do, and even if I did, I wouldn’t have the energy in this mood.

I’d already eaten dinner and finished preparing for bed before Jane arrived anyway.

I still jumped down from the high chair with a bounce.

And then trudged up to my second-floor room.

***

Now familiar with the door to my room, I subtly glanced at the room next door.

Is she asleep?

I didn’t even get to say goodnight…

“Ugh.”

Shaking my head vigorously, I immediately dove onto the bed.

-Plop

Burying my face in the plush mattress, I wiggled my feet restlessly.

“Gwaaah!”

A strange feeling of being trapped in an inescapable pit, blocked on all sides.

That same stifling sensation I’d felt once before.

“Ah.”

It was the same feeling I had after my first outing.

Back then too, Jane had called it a bet while injecting love gel into my butt.

That love gel had been mixed with an aphrodisiac.

This time too, before I knew it, I was swept away by Jane like a wave crashing over me.

“At least I avoided wearing women’s clothes. That’s a relief… or is it?! Uwaah!”

I feel suffocated.

This is utterly frustrating.

Nipple masturbation?!

In 26 years of my past life, I’d never once attempted it, nor had I even imagined it.

“I don’t wanna do it…”

But I have to.

Because Jane is the kind of responsible adult who always keeps her word.

Or is she?

Anyway, if I give up on the bet, a disgusting imitation sea cucumber will immediately wrap itself around my entire body.

Jane would absolutely do that and more.

“Hng.”

After kicking the bed repeatedly until exhausted, I flipped over with a huff.

Staring holes into the brightly lit ceiling from the magic lamp, I closed my eyes.

Masturbation.

Onani.

Self-pleasure.

“I have to do it…”

But how can I in this mood?

When I was a guy, I’d sometimes slip my hand into my underwear and stroke my dick until I came.

Or sometimes while using the computer, something would catch my eye and I’d get turned on and jerk off.

But now, that doesn’t work.

Is it because my body has changed to female?

No, I was trembling in fear just moments ago, so of course.

The human heart is fickle-when forced to do something, the desire to do it disappears.

“Ah.”

Lying face down, the breasts Jane had tormented earlier began to ache.

I got up from the bed and walked to the mirror.

Then sat roughly on the floor and lifted my shirt.

Pale, smooth, but somehow frail-looking breasts.

The left breast Jane had pinched was tinged red.

“No wonder.”

The redness would fade soon, but touching breasts like this is bad in the first place.

How can she, a woman herself, be so utterly lacking in consideration?

I gently cupped my breasts with both hands.

A slight relief from the dull pain.

Suddenly, Jane’s monstrous chest came to mind.

Those enormous breasts that sometimes looked like they could triple in size.

The difference between Jane and me isn’t just in size.

I sneakily checked my modest breasts again.

A “1” carved into the pink areola caught my eye.

“This is kind of uncomfortable.”

I have inverted nipples; Jane has perfectly shaped ones.

From my experience of sucking them, they’re five-star quality.

Of course, five is the highest rating.

In an instant, my mind was completely filled with thoughts of Jane’s tits.

Because they’re the only female breasts I’ve ever closely observed and touched in both my past and current lives.

Mom’s breasts don’t count.

Ah, I miss my mom.

“What am I even doing right now?”

Suddenly snapping back to reality, I was startled.

Sitting on the floor in the middle of the night, toying with my bare breasts while staring into the mirror.

I’m doing something really weird right now.

“Sigh…”

The unconscious sigh I let out was hot.

I realized my body temperature had risen compared to earlier.

The memory of peeking into Jane’s room through a hole came to mind.

“Ah.”

The me in the mirror had flushed cheeks, even though they hadn’t been pinched.

A creepy feeling.

My stomach tightened.

Just moments ago, I definitely wasn’t in the mood to masturbate, but in the blink of an eye, here I am.

I wasn’t originally this kind of pervert…

Or was I?

What was the bet about again?

I stuck out my tongue to check the symbol Jane had carved in the lab.

A strangely lewd-looking heart.

Jane said this symbol would glow when I felt an orgasm.

“She said I just need to make it sparkle once.”

A memory of reaching climax solely through nipple stimulation naturally surfaced.

The difference then was that Jane was the one touching me, not me doing it myself.

But the fact that I have some experience gives me a tiny glimmer of hope.

“Damn it.”

Along with the joy, post-nut clarity hit me immediately.

Why was I happy about having experience with nipple orgasms?

Anyway, I gained a little confidence.

If I recall the sensations from when Jane touched me and try to replicate them, it should work.

“Hoo…”

My exhale was still hot.

My shy nipples remained hidden.

I began recalling the times I’d been intimate with Jane.

The way Jane drew out my buried nipples varied each time.

Sometimes she’d torment them by squeezing hard, other times she’d tease them gently until they stiffened.

I closed my eyes.

Looking at my reflection in the mirror was still too much.

Slowly, I brought my index finger to my nipple.

Then pressed down lightly and rubbed.

“Mmm…”

Is this not it?

It just feels like touching skin.

Is it because it’s my own hand?

Thinking it might just be the start, I kept rubbing.

But all I got was sweaty palms-none of the stimulation I was hoping for.

Wondering if my method was wrong, I retraced my memories again.

“Ah.”

Come to think of it, Jane never just rubbed them directly with her fingertips like I’m doing now.

She’d start by slowly touching my breasts, not the nipples, to build arousal.

“Was it like this?”

Recalling Jane’s gestures, I matched my breathing to the rhythm.

Then gently stroked upward from the rounded curve beneath my breasts.

“Huu…”

A shiver ran down my spine again.

I exhaled at the familiar yet insufficient stimulation.

But my nipples still showed no intention of emerging.

Do I have to force them out?

Suddenly, a scene from an erotic novel I’d read in my past life came to mind.

A heroine so sensitive one might suspect she had hypersensitivity.

The moment she had a lewd thought, her nipples would stiffen and become drenched.

“But that’s just fiction…”

Grumbling, I nonetheless began picturing the most erotic female body I knew.

Luscious breasts, a slender waist, firm buttocks.

“Ah, this works.”

As if asking where it had been hiding, my bashful nipple popped right out.

For some reason, it felt unpleasant.

But I immediately shook my head.

“Just with the tip of my nail…”

I lightly scratched the erect nipple, just like I’d done with the underside of my breast.

“Ahhk!”

Before I knew it, I’d clenched my thighs and let out a delicate moan.

Finally feeling something resembling pleasure, I held my breath and focused.

“Haa…, ngh, ngh.”

Trying to imitate Jane, but I could never be as skilled as her.

How could I possibly replicate her way of teasing to the brink before delivering just the right amount of pain at the perfect moment?

Still, I could at least manage to tickle myself as best I could.

“Hnn, ah! Haa…”

If I’d known it’d be like this, I should’ve brought a quill pen.

The air in the room grew hotter and more humid.

My mind grew foggy, and I started feeling like I was floating.

“Ahhn!”

It felt like some unfamiliar organ deep in my abdomen was buzzing.

My lower belly tingled, and I even felt something trickling out.

I opened my eyes slightly and was startled.

A face flushed red to the ears.

Eyes glistening with tears, hazy and unfocused.

A lewd girl biting her lip and panting with pleasure sat reflected in the mirror.

“Gasp!”

Embarrassment sent heat rushing up to my neck.

Suddenly yanked back to reality, I stopped my movements and hugged my chest.

I momentarily forgot my original goal of reaching orgasm.

This seems like the right direction, but I still felt resistance.

If I go any further, it feels like my identity might shatter.

I could feel my 26 years of past life desperately resisting.

“It’s gone. It’s gone.”

The boiling excitement vanished like a popped bubble.

The girl in the mirror stared back at me with a blank expression.

The symbol on my tongue, which I’d forgotten about, came to mind.

Opening my mouth, the obscene-looking heart was still there.

“Huh?”

The inside of the heart was filled with a lurid pink light.

It seemed to be faintly glowing?

“Or not?”

Come to think of it, Jane did say something.

To make the symbol fully glow.

The colored portion was about 20% of the heart, starting from the bottom.

Far from what Jane called “fully.”

“Ah, what is this?”

Once I stopped masturbating and the lewd thoughts faded, my body naturally cooled down.

And the pink in the heart gradually faded until it disappeared.

In the end, I failed to climax through nipple stimulation.

“But what about this?”

The problem was the evidence of my masturbation.

I tried to wipe away the sticky traces of arousal.

But due to the magic Jane had placed, I couldn’t touch my own groin.

Feeling too uncomfortable to sleep like this, I finally knocked on the door to the next room.

Of course, Jane opened it immediately, as if she’d been waiting.