Rita: "????"
Wait...
Not only was it not exaggerated, but she had actually held back a lot?
Something was wrong.
Rita noticed a pattern; Mashiro's manga used to be dry and uninteresting because of her lack of life experience.
Had she even attended school properly? She used to just draw things at random, based on pure assumption.
But this new work... although it was incredibly lewd, it was surprisingly engaging and made the reader want more.
According to Mashiro, she was gathering material from her immediate surroundings.
She might have other friends Rita didn't know about, but the closest people were the ones they just ate with: Rin Ito, Kaede, Suzu, and Nanami, who had been looking after her.
And finally, Mashiro herself.
The working title of her new series was The Daily Life of a Manga Artist.
Currently, only one chapter was finished, featuring three characters.
The male lead, a doujin artist; the male lead's manga assistant; and a girl who dreams of becoming an artist and joins as an assistant for "training."
The prototypes for these characters were glaringly obvious.
The heroine seeking training was undoubtedly Mashiro.
The male lead artist was definitely Rin Ito. And the assistant... based on her personality, it was certainly Nanami.
The plot involved the new heroine finding an assistant job, thinking the male lead was a "proper" artist, only to walk in and see him pinned on top of his other assistant, kneading her breasts.
The heroine wanted to leave, but she decided to stay because she needed the job and figured doujins were still "manga."
Even though the plot hadn't fully unfolded, the erotic art style was enough to hook any reader.
Mashiro never had the ability to create stories before. She claimed these plots were adapted from real-life materials.
And she said she wasn't exaggerating; she was toning it down.
Hiss...
Rita sucked in a sharp breath as she thought about the plot.
Did Mashiro walk in on Rin and Nanami doing something perverted the moment she moved in?
"Fine, let's set the plot aside for now." Rita took a deep breath and shook her head to clear the intrusive thoughts. "Did Miss Aoyama... really masturbate in front of you as a demonstration?"
"Mmm." Mashiro nodded. "Nanami can do it. Can't Rita?"
Mashiro wasn't asking if Rita could do it; she was stating that Nanami could, and questioning Rita's capability. It was a direct comparison.
Rita had been the "Senior Owner" who lived with Mashiro for ten years. Nanami had only been the owner for a few months.
To Rita's ears, it sounded like Mashiro was saying: Zako, zako... Rita can't do what Nanami can do at all~
"O-Of course I can!"
Mashiro had laid down the gauntlet; there was no way Rita could say no. To refuse would be to admit she was inferior to Nanami.
A ten-year veteran losing to a few-month rookie...? The NTR vibes are real!
"Then show me, Rita. Show me your wanton, bashful face."
"Uuu..."
Rita usually maintained an air of composure, even when Mashiro first kicked her out. But faced with Mashiro's gaze—which felt like it was stripping her bare—Rita made her choice.
Off with the clothes!
Hesitation was never Rita's style.
If Nanami could do it, she could too. As the first owner, she refused to lose to anyone!
We've showered together before... we've showered together before... we've showered together before...
After repeating the mantra in her head, Rita unbuttoned her pink shirt, revealing her simple, elegant lingerie.
First the shirt, then the plaid pleated skirt, and finally, she shed her underwear in one go.
If it were just acting as a nude model, Rita wouldn't care; they had bathed together countless times. But masturbating for her was a first.
Mashiro pulled a chair in front of Rita. "Put both feet on the armrests. It's more convenient this way."
"..."
Why is Mashiro so practiced at this!? How many times has she watched Nanami get off!?
Though her heart was screaming, Rita maintained her facade of calm and sat in the chair. She leaned back and hiked her legs over the armrests, exposing her most private area to Mashiro.
Even in the bath, she had never been scrutinized quite like this!
"H-How is it?"
"Just as beautiful as Nanami." Mashiro nodded expressionlessly. "Begin masturbating."
What the hell does 'just as beautiful as Nanami' mean!?
Rita wanted to cry. She knew Mashiro's talent—one look and she would never forget a detail. Every inch of her would be etched into Mashiro's memory to be used as reference material for her lewd faces. No wonder the girls in her manga looked so adorable; it was all based on live practice.
But... for the dignity of an owner!
If Nanami did it, she had to do it too!
With that thought, Rita pressed her thighs together slightly and let her hand fall to her crotch, rubbing gently.
"..."
"..."
"...Is that all?" Mashiro spoke first, a hint of disappointment on her face.
Rita was no better than the old Mashiro—she was a pure girl raised in an art studio. her "masturbation" consisted of just rubbing her legs together or using a finger lightly. She hadn't learned from anyone or the internet; she had just discovered one day that rubbing against her blanket felt good.
She was currently performing the most basic, mild stimulation possible.
Facing Mashiro's question, Rita was equally confused.
"Just this? This is masturbating, isn't it?"
"It's not just this." Mashiro shook her head and opened the wardrobe. She pulled out a massager—a real, powerful wand meant for shoulders.
Rita didn't recognize the device, but as Mashiro approached with it, she had a terrible premonition.
"M-Miss Shiina... what... what is that in your hand?"
"A tool to make girls feel good." Mashiro walked toward Rita, her face devoid of emotion. She blocked the overhead light, casting a shadow over Rita like a Dark Lord wielding a cursed blade.
BZZZZZZZZZZZZT...
The sound of the motor was crystal clear. The tip of the "Magic Sword" was vibrating so fast it left an afterimage.
Before Rita could say another word, Mashiro pressed the Magic Sword directly against her most delicate spot.
"EEEYAAAHH!!!!"
The sensation, something Rita had never even dreamed of, made her instinctively clamp her hand over her mouth to stifle her shameful screams.
Her voice was blocked, but the "other mouth" between her legs offered no resistance, instantly soaking the Magic Sword in Mashiro's hand.