When I first met her, she had just finished blowing a hole through a dragon's chest.
It was massive—its wings blocked out the sun, its roar split the sky—but none of that mattered. My body had been frozen in terror, too weak to run, too powerless to scream. She landed beside me like a shooting star, elegant and impossibly beautiful, her heel cracking the earth and her magic rending the air. One chant. One spell. One boom. And the dragon's head rolled away from its neck like it had never belonged there in the first place.
She turned to me, and with a smirk, said, "You're cute. I think I'll keep you."
That was how I ended up becoming the apprentice of the most powerful mage on the continent. Her name was Saphielle the Starborn, though she never let me call her that. "Just 'Master' is fine," she would say, grinning devilishly while dragging her finger down my cheek, "or 'Goddess,' if you prefer."
She also liked to call me her shota.
Which… I guess was fair. I was eighteen at the time, but short. Baby-faced. And next to her, with her towering, buxom figure and seductive charm, I must've looked like a lost schoolboy. She teased me relentlessly. The day I moved into her tower, she pulled me into her bath, claiming it was a "ritual of cleansing." I had never seen that much skin in my life. I nearly passed out when she pulled me into her lap and pressed her enormous, wet breasts against my back.
Her voice echoed in my head every time I saw her. "You'll grow up big and strong if you listen to your Master… or maybe not too big—I like my little cutie just the way he is."
She would strut around the tower half-dressed, her long flared sleeves dangling as she bent over to pick up her books, her plunging dress doing absolutely nothing to hide the heavy curves of her chest. That star-shaped pendant always seemed to dangle perfectly between them, as if the universe itself had arranged it to torture me.
She had silver-lavender hair, straight and cut just to her shoulders, with pale blue eyes that sparkled whenever she teased me. She wore a white and black dress trimmed in gold that hugged every part of her voluptuous figure—so tight at the chest that it made me avert my gaze—and stockings that clung to her thighs with sinful elegance. Her massive wizard hat, white and navy with a golden star crest, tilted jauntily over one eye, somehow making her even hotter. Whenever she conjured spells, her blue ribbons swayed behind her, and her open book floated at her side, always glowing with magical script.
She was the definition of fantasy.
And she was all over me.
Like this morning, when I was just trying to have a simple breakfast.
"Master, can I eat now?" I asked, holding a piece of toast.
She leaned down over the table, resting her chest right on the wooden surface as she grinned. "Only if you share. Come on, feed me. Let's have an indirect kiss, cutie."
"M-Master!" My face flushed. I held the toast to my chest like it was a shield. "That's… that's so inappropriate!"
"But you're my apprentice," she purred, crawling across the table. "My darling little apprentice. You're supposed to obey me."
She was impossible.
Later that day, she had me practicing my wind projectiles in the courtyard. I stood with my arms outstretched, sweat dripping down my brow as I struggled to shape the gale into sharp spears.
"Focus!" she shouted from her levitating chair, lounging midair with a glass of wine and not a care in the world. "Your aim is sloppy, your form is adorable, and your butt looks cute when you concentrate like that."
"Master!"
"Oh relax, you're getting better," she said, twirling her finger to nudge my wind spear into place. "Besides, you'll need to improve before your summoning ritual."
"Summoning ritual?" I blinked, confused.
She smiled mischievously. "Tomorrow. You'll see."
And see I did.
Because the next morning, I woke up to a soft warmth against my chest… and skin. A lot of skin.
I blinked groggily, then went stiff.
She was in my bed.
Naked.
Curled up against me, her arms wrapped around my back, her legs tangled with mine. Her soft breath tickled my neck as her generous breasts pressed firmly against my chest, squishing with every inhale.
I tried to move, but her grip tightened.
"M-Master?!"
Her eyes opened slowly, half-lidded and playful. "Morning, cutie…"
"W-Why are you in my bed?!"
"Because you looked lonely," she whispered, pressing her hips against me. "And warm. And soft. And I wanted to see how cute your little hands felt on my big, squishy boobs."
My hands were already there.
I didn't remember moving them.
But I was groping her chest—cupping them, trembling, unable to stop myself. My fingers sank into her pillowy curves like they were made of magic themselves.
"I—I'm sorry—!"
"Don't be," she cooed. "You're such a good boy, always listening to me… I thought it was time I gave you a little reward."
My heart pounded.
"Go ahead. Play a little. I don't mind." She smirked, brushing her fingers through my hair. "Your little hands are so cute. I wonder what else they'll grow into…"
The blanket slipped lower, revealing even more of her bare form. My entire body was burning.
Then she leaned up and kissed my forehead.
"But before we get too excited," she whispered, slipping out of bed with zero shame about her nudity, "I gathered the materials you'll need. Today, we summon your familiars."
I stared dumbly as she walked naked across the room, her hips swaying, her hair shimmering in the morning light.
"S-So casually…"
She turned and winked. "Get dressed, cutie. Your harem's about to begin."