Shameless Reincarnation

The first year passed in a blur of milk, mess, and manipulation.

Kensuke… no, Willbert now, had settled into the rhythm of his new life like a parasite nestling into warm flesh. He shat, he slept, he suckled. Every feeding was a victory. Every orgasm he wrenched from Emma's unwilling body, a trophy. Some might call it cruel, but to him? It was just fun.

By the time his first birthday rolled around, Willbert had already trained Emma like a well-bred mare. She still pretended to resist, still mumbled half-hearted scolds whenever he pushed too far, but her body had stopped lying a long time ago. The moment his lips closed around her nipple, she'd tense, waiting, and by the time he was done, she'd be flushed, trembling, and desperate for Arnold's cock.

The cycle was perfect.

Which was why his birthday party was such a delicious torment.

The baron's estate had been transformed. Banners hung from the rafters, tables groaned under platters of honeyed meats and sugared fruits, and the air was thick with the cloying scent of perfumed nobility. Dozens of guests had arrived (some from neighboring estates, some from the city) all eager to meet the baron's celebrated heir.

Willbert didn't give a damn about any of them.

His attention was locked on Emma.

His mother had outdone herself: her dress was a deep green affair, cut dangerously low, the fabric straining around her enormous tits. Every step made them jiggle. Every bow to greet a guest made them bounce. Even breathing seemed like an invitation for them to spill free of their silken prison.

It was maddening.

"My son, Lord Willbert." Emma beamed, cradling him against her chest as she introduced him to yet another gaudy noble.

Willbert barely spared the man a glance. His tiny fingers dug into the curve of Emma's cleavage, kneading the soft flesh greedily. A sharp inhale was his only reward. She didn't even scold him anymore, just adjusted her grip and pretended nothing was happening while he groped her like a pampered lord with a favorite pet.

Gods, she's unbelievable.

Every woman in the hall was dressed similarly: low necklines, exposed cleavage, delicate fabrics that clung to their shapes like second skins. But none of them could compare. Emma's tits were legendary. Plump, bouncy, ripe. The kind of chest that could starve a man to death and still have milk to spare.

Willbert smushed his face between them, inhaling the scent of her skin, her perfume, the lingering sweetness of the last time he'd suckled her.

Perfect.

He was so lost in his appreciation of her chest that he didn't notice the eyes on him.

Not until he snuck his thumb under the neckline of Emma's dress, tracing along the bottom curve of her right breast just to feel the way her breath hitched, did he realize Tanya was watching.

The maid stood against the far wall, arms crossed, lips pressed into a thin line. Her cold stare locked onto his hand, onto the way his fingers pushed just a little too deliberately into Emma's soft flesh.

Willbert froze.

Then, with practiced innocence, he blinked up at Emma and let out a happy gurgle.

Tanya didn't buy it. Her expression darkened.

Willbert ignored her, turning his face into Emma's cleavage with a coo.

Whatever. What's she gonna do? Lecture a baby for grabbing his mom's tits?

Emma, oblivious, laughed and pressed a kiss to his forehead. "So lively today," she murmured, before turning back to the noble, resuming her hostess act.

Her absence of outrage only made Tanya's glare sharper.

Willbert smirked, or as close as an infant could manage.

Yeah, bitch, she lets me do it now.

If Tanya suspected anything more, she didn't act on it. Just disappeared into the crowd, though he could feel her watching him for the rest of the evening.

Luckily, there was too much happening for him to care.

Arnold was drunk by midday, boasting to everyone about his son's strength, his intelligence, his noble bearing.

Willbert, when not groping Emma, peered around at the guests, cataloging their reactions. Most nodded politely, some cooed at him like he was the one acting cute.

A few, though…

A noblewoman with dark hair and a neckline just as shameless as Emma's leaned in close, her breath smelling of wine. "Oh, what a darling boy."

Her hand grazed Emma's arm, her fingers lingering just a moment too long.

Willbert hissed, actually hissed, at her.

The woman jerked back, startled. Emma laughed, mistaking it for playfulness. "Oho! Protective of your mama, aren't you?"

Damn right.

His mother was his personal stress toy. No one else got to touch.

By nightfall, the guests were drunk, the hall was loud, and Willbert was exhausted. Too much stimuli, too many people, and Emma still hadn't let him feed yet. She had been too busy playing hostess.

His tiny fists clenched.

This isn't working.

So, with the kind of tactical genius only a reincarnated pervert could muster, he let out the loudest, most pathetic wail he could muster.

The room fell silent.

Emma flustered. "Oh-oh dear! I think it's time for his feeding!"

Arnold, red-faced and grinning, waved her off. "Go on, go on! The boy comes first!"

Emma nodded, murmured apologies to the guests, and hurried from the hall as Willbert clutched possessively to her chest.

As soon as the doors closed behind them, she exhaled, slumping against the wall. "Honestly, child."

Willbert kicked his legs.

Emma glanced down.

His lips were already puckered.

She hesitated. All day, she'd been the perfect noblewoman. Poised, graceful, untouchable.

But now, away from the guests, her eyes darkened. Her throat bobbed.

She sighed.

Then, without another word, she slid into the nearest sitting room, locked the door behind her, and sank into a plush armchair.

Willbert didn't wait for an invitation.

He latched on, sucking hard, his fingers digging into the other breast like he owned it.

Emma yelped.

Too bad. She'd denied him all day. Now he'd make her pay.

Her back arched. Her fingers tangled in his hair.

And somewhere, in the back of his mind, Willbert wondered just how much worse, how much better, this could get.

But for now?

He had a mother to break.