✱

“So, then,” Marisa wrapped up her write-up, “I tells them the salve should be ‘nuff, but if they notice somethin’, well… Sure as the lightnin’, two days later – that is, today – the lad’s dad finds me at the market an’ asks me to come by again.”

Reimu eyed her over the steaming, clayware tea-cup. “You botched the ward?”

Marisa ventured a shrug – as much of one as her own cup would allow. “Who knows? Said nothin’ but that his boy needed another session. Haven’t been by; like as not will tomorrow.”

“Sloppy,” insisted her best friend, and took a long sip.

“Maaaybe,” granted Marisa. “Gods know that boy’s a hunk. Could’ve gotten distracted…”

There was a world of suspicion – mostly confirmed – in Reimu’s replying look. Yet, the shrine maiden made no comment. Only busied at her tea – as though the Ordinary Witch reportedly failing an art she had been polishing for years and years was nothing to warrant one.

Yup, thought Marisa. She can tell.

Though she had mentioned nothing beyond rubbing the salve into the boy’s broad back; though she slipped not a peep of then rolling him around to pour the rest over his naked crotch, Reimu had to know. How little Marisa had told made Reimu’s absence of inquest all the more telling.

And then, there were parts of the scene which Marisa wished she could hide even from herself. How she and Tarou had scrabbled for their clothes the heartbeat they had heard his parents returning. How the witch dove for her discarded panties, only to then pull them up her slippery legs. How the stud Tarou had positively dived into his underwear – ahead lying down on his stomach and suggesting, at a furtive hiss, that the witch pretend to be lathering his back still. And though the ruse had been successful on the surface, and they had been treated to no imputing remarks beyond the good-humoured – all the same, having to explain the treatment to Tarou’s father, while his adolescent son’s cum was sloshing in her womb, had b

Oh, yay, you finished.

Now, about that continuation of a certain rabbit's tale...

That's some damn fine witch fuckin right there.

I do not want to recall it.

I do up the topmost button of my jacket and tug down the rune-embroidered sleeves. I do not wish to review the remainder of that night. How I kicked the feet out from beneath my rabbit slave, toppling him to the floor. How I straddled his hips without pity for his little friend’s sensitive state. I would sooner not remember bouncing up and down on him at a wild, mindless tempo – racing for the orgasm after which I had lusted since my first taste of Daiki’s leporine cock. The thrill of domination from staring into his wide, ruby eyes, while I used him like a living sex toy. My shirt’s buttons coming loose and unveiling my swinging bust. My slave reaching up to flick open my bra with astounding skill – causing my breasts to fall out and dangle over his entranced face. My speeding up the pace in revenge. The shameful sound of my butt-cheeks smacking his thighs on every abrupt descent. And then, the obscene squelching of our genitals when Daiki’s earlier ejaculation began to leak out and do us the office of added lubricant.

I will not recall my first orgasm atop the rabbit boy’s cock – for the simple reason I cannot. A millennium of chastity had done nothing to prepare me for the tidal wave of bliss from having real sex again. Once I had reached my peak and started to cum, the ashen deserts of the Moon may well have ceased existing altogether. I cannot say how long I’d slouched on top of my handsome slave, quaking and twitching in my orgasmic throes. Only that I hoped – in some far-off, detached part of myself – that I would not let slip any rash words while off in my little, ecstasy-filled world.

When at length I regained faculty over my delirious senses, it was to the sight of Daiki’s ruddy face half-swamped under my drooping bust. The rabbit boy boldly cupped and lifted my right breast from his chin. And then, he asked me the question I, for a change, hadn’t at all needed – yet wanted to hear.

“… Again, Lady Sagume?”

I felt a tingle, down below my bellybutton, which told me in no ambivalent way I was absolutely ready – and willing – to go again. Therefore, I granted my br

This was really fucking good, thank you

Where's that continuation, hmm?

Then she remembered where she was. She remembered what her job was. She’d come here to prove her abilities. To make her partner scream with pleasure.

The only person to have felt anything was her. As the strength ebbed from her body, so too did her will.

Her heaving breaths took on a quaking, uncertain quality. Her arms fell across her face.

Kanako swallowed the last of her juices and leaned back, shiny violet silk stretched over purple hair. “I must have done quite well to satisfy my godd-”

“I’m sorry.”

Reimu laid there, her meager breasts rising and falling as unsteady breaths pushed themselves through her lungs. Kanako kept silent.

“I…” Reimu inhaled, “I’m worn out.”

“Already, huh?”

Reimu gritted her teeth. “Sorry.”

Kanako sighed, audibly disappointed.

Reimu dragged herself up, staring Kanako down. She huffed and stood, lifting her right leg to step around, behind Kanako.

Falling to her knees, she gripped the last knot by Kanako’s right arm.

Kanako twisted, pulling it away.

Reimu reached for it again. Kanako thumped her side into her, knocking her back.

Brow twitching, Reimu paused, too tired to argue. A moment of silence passed.

“We still have half an hour.”

Reimu groaned. “I just said, I’m beat.”

Kanako mumbled something, stunning Reimu.

She had no idea what the goddess said, though. Just that Kanako mumbled.

“Speak up.”

Kanako sighed, long and slow and dramatic. “I can take control for the rest of our time, if you can’t.”

Reimu narrowed her eyes. “What?”

“You said you’re unable to continue. If you’re so sure you can’t handle it-”

I can handle this! I can please one damn woman.

Gut trembling, Reimu found anger burning her fatigue away. She stood and, wrapping her arms under Kanako’s oversized, bound tits, heaved and flung her onto the be

Reimu stirred, shifting her weight atop the uneven surface of a great woman’s naked rack and legs.

She blinked her eyes open and planted her hands on the surface’s breasts, lifting herself up. She stared down into Kanako’s bashful eyes. She groaned and pushed herself to the side, rolling off the goddess.

Landing on her back, Reimu stared to the ceiling.

She’d laid one of Gensokyo’s most powerful goddesses and would even be paid for the pleasure of doing so.

If only she’d performed a bit bett…

“Could you untie me?”

Reimu blinked, staring back at the goddess lying beside her. Ropes still wrapped tight around those giant tits.

“Sure, sure.”

She pulled herself up and went to work. It took a few moments to find the knots and get them all undone, but soon enough, Kanako sat up, her naked ass facing Reimu as she flexed her arms. With bright pink marks crossing her back.

The goddess sighed and peeled the panties off her head. Reimu looked away.

“Thanks, ‘Jun.’ That was a decent first effort.”

Reimu scowled. “Don’t mock me.”

The goddess giggled. Reimu couldn’t help some small wonder at the way her athletic back moved as she did so. “You’re getting, what? Eight hundred a night?”

Reimu glowered. “Five.”

“Well, how about you stop by the Moriya Shrine some quiet night.” Kanako glanced back, eyelids low. “I would pay a fortune to see my goddess again.”

Reimu looked away, cheeks red. “I’ll think about it.”

“Please don’t make me wait too long.”

Reimu took only a glance back to find Kanako stepping back into her fancy, lacy underwear.

Reimu stared down into the barely-trimmed patch between her thighs, sighing. It did feel good. Maybe she could just pay one visit.

The door opened. “Next time, I’ll show you how it’s done, first.”

Reimu’s head spun to the door, just as it shut.

She growled and swung her legs off the bed. Standing up, she shuff

Kanako trudged through the quiet, darkened main room of her shrine, feet shuffling to her personal chamber. After all the grief that former outpost brought, all the believers demanding she take their side in that damn property battle, it did bring her the occasional gem.

However coarse that gem would turn out to be.

She stepped through her door, shutting it behind her to block out what little light eked into the main room. Sighing, she groped around her bed and peeled the large, heavy breast harness off it, then walked to her closet. She slid it open and dumped the harness inside. She shrugged the coat and hat off, tossing them in with it. Closing it again, she trotted back to her bed.

Crashing into the sheets, she sighed again, a little happy this time. She’d finally spent a night in bed with Reimu. She even got the girl to dominate her.

She groaned, thumping her hands once behind her. She was so close. So damn close. But Reimu, clearly, wasn’t ready. The girl needed training. She needed to learn how to confine, to control, to overwhelm a goddess of the heavens.

Her eyes drifted through the shadows to her closed closet. The fun toys would have to wait. The toys made for Kanako. Tomorrow, she’d need a set for someone smaller and thinner. Someone who needed to learn, first-hand, what she needed from her. Perhaps, once that girl learned the ropes, they’d finally get to do what she dreamed of.

Looks like there's no other forthcoming votes, so the winner is...

[x] What were those preparations about? Anyway, the place was cozy.

Will the question be answered? Is the place actually cozy? Can Kinkan actually enjoy his cognac? Does Tenta care about any of this? Wait warmly and find out.

>>39726
Any news, man? Waiting for the followup, eagerly.

>>39850
Don't feel like putting on my trip for this, so just trust that you're talking to OP.

It's a complicated answer. Things have been kind of rough since I essentially killed off my main story. I have some intention to get back to this, but that's all I can really concede right now. I'm participating in NaNoWriMo and decidedly not with this story, because >daily updates.

So, I dunno what else to say, anon. Sit tight and watch this space, I guess. Or come to the Discord and bother me. Or maybe get adventurous and write your own stuff. There's no right or wrong answers here.

Well, okay, there are but let's not think about that too hard.

Called for thigh action.

(X) She could settle for non-penetrative sex with her thighs.

Withal these thoughts, Mononobe Futo was, above everything, an enlightened woman. Or, more rigorously, a moral one. The distinction was somedeal of an import. It told apart those women who achieved their ends with wiles and ample busts from those who, occasionally, found themselves in the intimate presence of eminent men who wished, among mutual assent and respect, to relieve some of the stress contingent in courtly life – commonly ahead of delivering on seminal decisions.

Futo had never beguiled a man. A few she may have coaxed – and reached certain agreements with others still. Mostly, however, Futo had paved her Way. When it had run parallel to that of someone else, she had welcomed the opportunity for exchange. When those Ways had run astride, she would take subtle pains in order to preserve both. Futo had never, not once, hindered on purpose the natural course of the world; even her disgust and culling of youkai, for which she had been reproved, furthered their existence in the end – which was Gensokyo’s purported goal and therefore a good deed of a sort. When Water flowed, Futo let it; when Wind blew and fire burned, Futo ushered on their rage. That had been the one immutable constant of her life.

The one lesson her blood brother had implanted deeper than anything else.

And so, she would impose nothing on her younger, more squeamish one – even if it was, expressly, the thing they both longed for. Once Handai Mu ironed out those humps in his Way which stymied his desires – once he judged himself ready – then Futo would give him her full, willing cooperation. The whole, unbridled stretch. Until his hips were trembling from fatigue and her still, immortal womb was pumped tight with his youthful, virile seed. Until she couldn’t walk to the temple’s baths without having to lean against a nearby wall. Until, weeks afterwise, she may say beyond t

Back to the main story: >>/shrine/42083

With her straddling him, and his body now nearly laid out back midair, Gen slipped the first joint of his finger inside Ibuki Suika.

“MyahaAHhn!”

Suika’s mouth left his, and she clawed deeper into his clothing, enough that he started to worry the little oni would soon reach his flesh. Because of that, and his concern that he might reach something inside the young(-seeming) woman that he did not want to use a finger to pierce, his plunging remained shallow.

... In spite of his lust’s best efforts to push much, much further.

Suika’s mouth was held open, her tongue lolling somewhat as he rubbed her. Her drool fell on his body and face slovenly. To keep his sense, he held her hand tighter. This was necessary, as he’d already begun to stiffen enough that his mind was becoming clouded.

Hiding themselves in water had proved to be a very good idea, for more than simple concealment. Suika’s body was gleaming; the lights he’d cast were illuminating her skin with a shine that, through appearance alone, was forcing him near to a finish. The lines of her abdomen, the hills of her ribcage, and that face flush and lost to pleasure, eyes distant—not thinking, he squeezed her mound.

“Khah! Hah!” she panted. He felt the blood in his face.

He looked down then past her glistening navel to his hand, and to her swollen clit. He bit, and ground his teeth together.

“Gen...” Suika spoke to him, getting his attention. Her voice was high, and she sounded a full measure more intoxicated than usual. She requested, pleading, “put it in...”

His thoughts succumbed to turbulence, alarm bells going off in his head. As a magician, he had to often be of clear mind and solid reason, but that plea was enough to push his manhood too far. The gentleman seemed genuinely close to bursting out through the belt and zipper. Reason, reason...

“No...” he growled, pulling his hand back.

“Put it in... put id...” she mumbled. Her saliva dropped onto his bottom lip. He closed his mouth, swallowed it, and shivered from the taste.

“S... Miss Suika...” he whispered harshly, breathing out. He stopped for a moment, par

“You really want this, huh...” he remarked, holding himself in front of her. “Alright, here,” He said, and with one hand atop her head, he pushed his cock as close to her face as he could before contact.

Suika’s face glowed as she was presented with his rod. She swallowed, stared, stared longer, and even longer until she seemed to be in some sort of daze, judging by how her expression relaxed. She sniffed at his tip, and he hurried to stop his semen from flying out then and there.

Suika continued to sniff at his cock for quite a while, and he found himself unable to move as she did so. His ears felt hot, his cock even hotter, and overall he was fairly certain he might literally explode at any moment. Suika did not stop, getting her fill of his scent from the front, sides, below, and above. She pressed her face, eyes closed, against his pubic hair and huffed. She then went lower and breathed in at his testicles. Gen was thoughtless all the while, until she opened her mouth to drag her tongue against the underside of looser skin.

“...!!” He silently held his ground, exhaling through his nose. This had mostly tickled, at least, what the youkai did next however was an outright test of endurance. She lapped along his shaft repeatedly, coating it in her warm saliva while he stared down at her and started to moan. “Oh... Ohhgh... Hh...” he breathed, unable to keep his mouth shut now. Her tongue slid along him too pleasurably, like a roll of sparks. When she swallowed him without warning while he was contemplating life in the tree’s bark, he grabbed both of her horns, bit hard onto his own teeth, and growled.

He already knew this sensation, but it was so, mercilessly, unbelievably, delightfully hot inside of Suika’s mouth. He did nothing himself other than hold on to his senses and back his orgasm, because the sooner he ejaculated the sooner this stupefying pleasure would end.

Tickling, sparkling—her hard teeth and rolling tongue—all too much. Too much. He thought his heart skipped a bit. Holding his breath, he let her continue.

“Mmf... chp... Gg... Mwm... gg... hm... hm...”

The noises, too, push

[X] Turn her into a duck the first time she makes an echo! Perfect nightmare and still counts!
[X] Well, if there's one thing you know about her kind of music, it's that liberal amounts of sex are involved! Bring on the groupies!
[X] Duck groupies!

But first, a short intermission. Expect it in a little bit, assuming nothing comes up.

[2.1] Write-in! Because, seriously, sometimes the voices have good ideas!
-[2.1] Make her hum a fugue of which you've heard the music's din 'afore
--[2.1] And whistle all the airs from that infernal nonsense Pinafore!
---[2.1] And whistle all the airs from that infernal nonsense Pinafore!
----[2.1] AND WHISTLE ALL THE AIRS FROM THAT INFERNAL NONSENSE PINA-PINAFOOOOOOOOOORE.
[2.1] The best thing it's unsure if it's a nightmare or a dream for her. Sooooo it can be whatever!
-[2.1] We are the BEST voices right?
--[2.1] Obviously.



I started blinking in confusion as a sing-song voice began to sing like sing-song voices do, though this one was weirdly fast in its doing so. Weird scratchy noises dragged across the inside of my skull as I heard an older man belt out enough words to give me a headache.

Makeherhumafugueofwhichyou'veheardthemusic'sdin'afore! Hrm... Din 'afore, din 'afore... Got it! AndwhistlealltheairsfromthatinfernalnonsensePinafore!

Before I could even try to figure out what I had just heard, a group of women took over, though I could barely hear it over the sound of a crazy amount of xylophone drumming against the inside of my skull.

AndwhistlealltheairsfromthatinfernalnonsensePinafore!
AndwhistlealltheairsfromthatinfernalnonsensePinafore!
ANDWHISTLEALLTHEAIRSFROMTHATINFERNALNONSENSEPINA-PINAFOOOOOOOOOORE

I wrenched my ear, ripping flesh in an effort to find the off switch.

It actually worked, so I left my poor ear sideways.

Maybe I'm the one having a dream, and I'm just gonna wake up like nothing happened? ...Wait, is this a nightmare, then? I mean, I think I was crying during that first dream.

Clearly I need to make this dream a happy one, meaning sex, and lots of it!

[x] Asked him to bend her over and take her from behind.

Been waitin a long time for Spiderbutt.

(X) Asked him to bend her over and take her from behind.

—And determined herself even more selfish than the evening had proven by now.

Not that much so as to proceed with her scheme right away; she would, generously, give Naoto a few more well-lubed strokes. She would tow her waist back – extracting his long tool to the point where her lips were smooching the tip; then, she would push onto him again – causing the shaft to disappear inside her plush hole. Naoto’s cock would give a contented throb each time it bottomed out and felt her tender lips squeeze lovingly around its root. A few more trips up and down between her sticky walls, and the crude thing would start squirting its delicious seed into Yamame’s deepest place. The place where it was meant to go. The place that was – but wasn’t – her stomach. Where babies were conceived. Her womb.

But Yamame was not about to let that happen. Not yet.

And so, at the apex of the next stroke, she missed the proper stop, and let Naoto’s cock spring out of her smooth, drooling pussy. Her human hissed a breathless curse into her breasts, scrambling to shove his twitching manhood back where it belonged. The spinstress weaved, spider-slick, out the way of his clawing hands, skidding off the side of his lap to land on the couch beside him.

Ahead Naoto might swear twice, the eldest, most dignified of the Underworld’s earth spiders shinnied up the couch on her elbows and knees, her butt stuck out high in the air. Her copious breasts hung below her, stretching to an almost reverse-teardrop shape, which left her nipples to brush on the wraps strewn about the daybed. She grasped for the pillow propped on the far armrest.

A prowling hand raced out beside her. It grabbed at one of her arms and jerked it back.

Unsupported, the top half of Yamame flumped down onto the pads of the couch: face, breasts and all. When she dug her nose out and cast back over a shoulder, Naoto was there, kneeling at her exposed rear: red, puffing, and dragging her slimy panties down her thighs.

Yamame’s fangs gnashed together. A flurry of base, animal excitement stiffened her back

✱

Afterwards, as they lay in a bodily heap, Yamame would feel vaguely unfulfilled. Oh, the finish had been great, that it had; and there were few perversions which the eldest of the earth spiders had taken to more satisfying than coming – and being come inside – while held down. The mathematics of it, however, had left her imbalanced. The five days of not seeing nor touching her lover felt hardly fair an equation to one (fantastic though it had been) bout of sex.

How had she ever held out six months?

Yamame Kurodani, purring, swelled up beneath her human. Naoto sensed the motion. He levered himself up to a half-rise on his arms. An effect of this disturbance, his limp, spent manhood flopped out to rest between the earth spider’s thighs. A trickle of warm, milky seed followed its example. It leaked out, clinging to Yamame’s loose lower lips.

This used to be such a fear, Yamame marvelled. Once they’d first had sex, after two whole days of tiptoeing, Naoto had spun a barring web around what he’d uninventively termed “finishing inside.” That web had lasted no longer than their second night of exploring which bits of their bodies could fit into other bits to feel really good. Though, he would re-thread that same promise at the end of each such “finish;” still, the allure of letting Yamame take the fruit of his orgasms had simply been too… well, alluring to properly resist, even then.

But, once the godling accident had happened… once Yamame had reunited with her human lacking for a baby-filled belly… That fear, too, had been dissolved like bare foundations in the rain. These days, the returns of Yamame’s work on her human belonged to one of three places. Yamame’s mouth, Yamame’s womb, or – on those clumsier occasions – her face. None of that, “I’ll pull out and come on your legs” business. Her legs had better things to do. Locking about his waist, for one.

A part of Yamame, in truth, envied Lady Satori and her plain enjoyment of motherhood. That part of her was silly. It was ignorant of the reality that Satori Komeiji was rare