3. This Incredible Ecstasy

“It seems your s*xual compatibility wasn’t good.”

“What?”

Catherine quietly confided about last night to Laura as she brushed her hair. Laura whispered sympathetically while gently arranging Catherine’s red locks.

“S*xual compatibility. Well… since it was the first time for both of you, it might just be inexperience rather than compatibility.”

Laura continued brushing, speaking as if this was perfectly understandable.

She clicked her tongue in sympathy, but her face showed she understood.

“Inexperience?”

“Yes. You said it was huge, right? When it’s big and clumsy, it feels like a weapon, just as you described. There’s a saying that bigger is better, but I think differently. The perfect fit between shapes and technique. That’s more important.”

“…A fit between shapes? You mean my thing and a man’s thing can match perfectly?”

“Of course! Like a well-made lock and key, just right!”

Laura put down the hairbrush and made a small circle with one hand. Then she took a finger from her other hand and slid it into the circle, saying:

“Like this. Perfect!”

…Good heavens.

The gesture was so lewd that Catherine’s face turned bright red as she stared at Laura in astonishment, her eyes wide.

“Is that what s*xual compatibility means?”

“Yes, s*xual compatibility. Very important. And skill is crucial too. What’s the most sought-after profession these days? All technical jobs. It’s no different in the bedroom. Skilled technicians are very important, I think.”

Laura was disappointed not only about her Miss’s poor compatibility with Michael but even more about her having a painful first experience.

What if our innocent Catherine becomes afraid of men because of this?

While it’s true that Miss never needs to be with a man if she doesn’t want to, Laura hoped that if Catherine desired it, she would find someone to share a beautiful love with.

If that person were Michael, it would be perfect, but if they weren’t sexually compatible, that was another story.

‘The best solution would be for Michael to become more skilled, but that would require him to gain more experience… which I don’t like either. Still, our Miss is so intelligent that when taught one thing, she understands ten, so perhaps it’s better for her to learn how to find pleasure herself.’

After all, our precious Miss Catherine must be happy.

Before coming to this mansion, Laura had served a perverted master.

Though not a prestigious noble, that aristocrat had inherited considerable wealth and hosted decadent parties every night.

He would bring in women from unknown origins, s*x slaves from distant foreign countries, and occasionally men more delicate than women, and Laura, being the maid who cleaned the bedroom, witnessed it all.

Bizarre instruments, collapsed men and women sprawled everywhere, pungent yet strangely arousing scents, and all sorts of food.

Laura had to clean the bedroom that resembled a battlefield every day, testament to her former master’s extraordinary s*xual appetite.

Yes, cleaning was her job, so she could endure it.

No matter how dirty or disturbing the sights were.

But when that perverted noble finally brought in children much younger than herself, she couldn’t stand it anymore.

Two children around the age of her younger siblings. Laura secretly helped them escape.

When the noble later discovered this and lunged at her, saying he would violate her instead of the children, she instinctively kicked him hard between the legs.

The enraged noble beat Laura nearly to death, but fortunately, she was neither killed nor violated.

Locked in the underground dungeon, she barely managed to escape with the help of the mansion’s gardener.

With her bloody, battered appearance, she limped to the capital. There, she was saved by this little Miss.

‘Hey, why are you bleeding so much?’

‘I was beaten.’

‘Why were you beaten?’

‘I kicked my former master.’

‘You kicked your master? Why?’

The small, pale little Miss approached Laura, who had collapsed in an alley, without any fear.

Though Laura found the young Catherine annoying in her pain, she was also glad to see her.

For the past ten days, no one had spoken to her, let alone responded to her words…

The pretty little Miss, like a snow rabbit, approached Laura as if by miracle.

She struggled to keep herself from sobbing as she barely managed to answer.

‘…He tried to do bad things to me.’

‘Why would a master do bad things to a servant?’

The innocent Miss tilted her head in confusion. That expression, suggesting such a thing could never happen in her world, made Laura both resentful and envious.

So she cried. The tears she had been holding back finally burst forth.

At seventeen, she cried in front of a Miss ten years younger than herself.

In front of a noble Miss who had grown up without knowing hardship. The young Miss, not knowing what to do, patted Laura’s hunched shoulders with her small hand.

‘Don’t cry.’

Laura stopped crying in surprise and stared blankly at the child. She was stunned by the warm touch of the child who so casually stroked her shoulder despite Laura’s beaten, unsightly appearance and dirty state.

‘Don’t cry. Are you hurting? Let’s go to our mansion. There are lots of medicines there. I get sick often. Come with me. I’ll put medicine on you. So don’t cry.’

Pat, pat, the small white hand that had been stroking her shoulder really did take Laura away. Michael, who had been guarding the young Catherine, helped Laura according to Catherine’s wishes.

It was said that at that time, not long after Catherine had fallen ill because of Michael, he followed her like a shadow and did whatever she asked.

In any case, Laura was saved that day. As Catherine had said, no one in this mansion mistreated the servants.

From that day on, she decided to devote all her dedication and soul to Catherine’s happiness.

So that this innocent and fragile Miss, who knew little of the world but was full of curiosity, who nearly died from even a common cold, could be happy.

Catherine lifted her flushed pink cheeks and asked Laura with eyes full of curiosity.

“Technique? There’s such a thing?”

“Oh my. Miss, you need skill to make bread, and skill to style your hair like this, so wouldn’t the most meaningful act in human history require technique?”

That made sense.

Catherine found herself nodding.

Laura smiled at Catherine’s admiring gaze.

Soon, she lowered her voice and whispered secretively, though no one else was in the room.

“But Miss, it’s not just men who need technique.”

Catherine opened her eyes wide behind her glasses, as if asking what that meant.

“Remember Cindy’s book I showed you before?”

Ah…!

Catherine brought her fist down on her palm and looked up at Laura with eyes sparkling more brightly than ever.

⁕⁕⁕

The red light of sunset seeped into Catherine’s room.

Having skipped lunch to read in her bedroom, Catherine jerked her head up at the sound of knocking. Her glasses had slid down, precariously perched on the bridge of her nose.

— Miss, Michael is here.

Laura had rushed in ahead of Michael to announce his visit, as if warning Catherine to prepare herself.

Michael.

That name instantly made Catherine’s face flush.

“We parted this morning, why is he coming at this hour?”

They had parted ways just hours ago, amid the morning dew. He had come quickly, taking advantage of the dawn to avoid others’ eyes. Yet just hearing his name made her feel as if Michael’s presence was reawakening in the p*ssy he had penetrated.

His fingers probing her wet flesh and his large, hot c*ck pushing into that tight place.

Catherine’s face turned pale then bright red as she recalled that dark red c*ck that had clung to her flesh.

In the book, the man’s thing was called a d*ck. And the woman’s place was called a p*ssy.

“d*ck and p*ssy.”

Somehow…

“It’s cute.”

Saying it aloud, those incredibly lewd words were strangely cute. They matched well as a pair too.

“What’s wrong with me? This isn’t the time for such thoughts.”

Catherine, her face flushed, quickly collected herself and hid the book she had been reading behind her pillow. Just as she finished straightening the edge of her blanket, there was a knock at the door.

— It’s me, I’m coming in.

Catherine’s heart pounded violently at that familiar yet somehow strange voice.

Until they parted at dawn, she had felt normal, but now she couldn’t understand why she suddenly felt so awkward and embarrassed.

Catherine secretly composed herself as the door opened and greeted Michael.

“What brings you here at this hour?”

Catherine greeted him with a bright smile, pretending to be casual, but Michael’s face as he approached her was far from fine.

Why does he look like that?

Michael’s blue eyes staring at her seemed darker than usual. Perhaps it was her imagination, but the temperature of his gaze, scrutinizing her face, felt different from usual.

How to describe it—before, no matter how much she met Michael’s eyes, she never felt heated, but now just looking into each other’s eyes made some part of her body feel itchy and hot.

Michael, who had been staring at Catherine, hesitantly sat down beside her.

Along with a soft sigh, a flash of guilt crossed his face.