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Hatate Himekaidou used all her restraint to keep from smashing the screen of her computer. She had been in the newsroom for nearly three days in a row, ignoring the need for her to sleep or eat — or shower. It was not the first time she had done so since becoming an intern at TNN, the highest-rated news station in Gensokyo. Her record for staying at work — 63 hours 50 minutes and 29 seconds, she timed it herself — was not far off, and of course, her request for overtime pay would be denied. They always were.
Only the scent of roasted coffee relaxed her. A steaming cup had been placed by her keyboard while she focused on the screen. Hatate sucked the black drink down in three big gulps. The burns were a small price to pay for relieving the headache that had been building up in her skull for the past hour. Her throat would heal fast, anyway.
“Rough couple of nights, huh?”
Only one person bothered to make coffee or conversation for Hatate. Despite this, Hatate felt no need to turn around and address her superior directly. “I’m busy working — on your story, Aya.”
“You’re working too hard,” Aya Shameimaru insisted.
“I’m working for you.”
Hatate bit her tongue as soon as the words left her mouth. She meant to say “because of you.”
Aya put her slender hands on Hatate’s thin shoulders. “Now this is a surprise. Is that loyalty I hear in that sweet voice of yours?” she cooed in one of Hatate’s long ears. “I always thought you were attached to work, but was it me you were attached to all this time?”
Hatate shook Aya’s hands off and stood up indignantly, more than willing to let her complaints ring out through the entire newsroom. “Wh, who would attach themselves to a dumbass like you?! I’ve pretty much rewritten this whole shit-fucking article from scratch! Did you even learn how to write before you became a journalist?”
However, the other computers were all empty. Hatate glanced down at the clock display on her screen. The time was approaching three-thirty in the morning, and the two crow tengu were the only ones in the office — probably the whole building. She hadn’t even realized.
Aya, who stood half a head higher than Hatate, rustled her assistant’s greasy hair with one hand and didn’t show any interest in scolding her — or pointing out that an intern’s job was to rewrite their supervisor’s shitty stories. “I like your sharp tongue,” she said, “even if everyone else hates you for it.”
Aya’s touch balanced out Hatate’s mood, so she returned to her state of persistent, weary sourness. “Fuck you and fuck them,” she remarked as she dropped back into her seat. “I just want to get the news out to the humans and out of my hair.”
Not that it was much news in the first place. Hatate was editing a fluff piece about a new human school being built and its young teacher — a filler, “feel-good” story that would pop up at the very end of a broadcast.
“Bullshit,” Aya replied with a smirk. “I know what you’ve been up to.”
Although she was strictly told “no sleuthing” by her long-nosed superiors, Hatate couldn’t help herself. This teacher had big breasts and a nice face, Hatate thought, but something about her was off — and that turned into fifty hours picking apart her records looking for something, anything that might give this story some spice and satisfy her hunch. However, the teacher and her entire family were completely spotless — bizarre, Hatate thought, but there was nothing she could do. In the end, she was reduced to trying to make this dreck both readable and interesting before the deadline later that morning.
“If you really cared, you would’ve brought me some food from the convenience store,” Hatate grumbled.
Aya laughed. “There’s a limit even to my generosity. After all, you didn’t find anything. That’s why sometimes you gotta stop investigating and start slinging shit around until something sticks.”
Her words stung, but Hatate knew it was what she deserved. After all, as a self-proclaimed “psychic detective,” she had failed — again. Nevertheless, Hatate retorted, “Isn’t that method why your newspaper was canceled in the first place?”
But Aya took no offense. Instead, she placed one foot on Hatate’s desk to stand proudly and declare to the empty office, “They can take away my Bunbunmaru, but they can’t take away the truth!!”
It was a display of Aya’s distinct lack of shame — since she was wearing a short, black skirt and nothing else in terms of legwear. Hatate mentally noted that her panties were white before she replied, “Spoken like a true tabloid writer.”
But, it was because of that tabloid writer that she even had a job there in the first place.
Aya stepped off the desk and stretched. “Well, I better leave you to it. I just thought I’d check up on you.”
Hatate smirked despite herself. “That’s very cute, Aya. I know you’re just interested in the deadline.”
Aya shrugged. “Maybe, maybe not. I like to keep you guessing.” She moved to leave. “Later, Hatate.”
“Good riddance,” Hatate called after her, before returning to her screen.
But the focus wouldn’t come. Aya’s little visit had distracted her weary, floaty brain and she needed something to ground herself with.
So, she listened closely. Then, she looked around. With Aya gone, Hatate was now the only person in the building. There was a box of tissues nearby. It wasn’t the first time she had been in this situation — when her body was so tense and her mind so gone, that only one thing could get her back to form.
Hatate pulled her panties and skirt down — releasing a wave of her own unwashed odor that she couldn’t help but delight in. Fortunately, there were cubicles between her and the entrance. Although that meant anyone walking in wouldn’t see her immediately, it also meant that she wouldn’t see them. She had enough time to pull her skirt back up if someone did come in, but only if she heard them.
After taking one final look around the office, Hatate sat down on her chair and leaned forward while arching her back. She moved her slender fingers — slowly — down her own backside and into the crack of her ass. She prodded her asshole with her middle finger, but it was stubborn.
Hatate had only recently began teasing her asshole after tiring of her usual routine. It was a discovery so recent that she still felt a powerful sense of shame from the act itself — which of course, was a huge turn-on. That was why masturbating with her asshole in the office would be a quick release, she hoped.
After pushing away the final dissenting voice in her head, Hatate took a deep breath and wrenched her middle finger into her body. A mix of pain and pleasure filled Hatate’s insides and went straight to her brain, releasing something between a gasp and a moan from her throat. Warm blood divided itself between her face and her nethers, and her other fingers dug into her skin.
Hatate didn’t start moving immediately, but instead took a moment to ride the initial feeling. She could already feel herself getting wet; her body had been craving this for a while. Then, she began stroking her insides with a careful rhythm. By this point, it was all pleasure — as long as she didn’t go any deeper or pull out. For a few minutes, she kept this going while keeping her moans in check.
“Looks like you’re taking a break.”
Hatate froze, and looked behind her. Aya stood there, arms crossed, with a huge grin. Panic set in, and she tried to pull her finger out of her asshole, but it clenched and held on. Hatate groaned, and before she could do anything else, Aya rushed over and held her.
“Easy, easy,” Aya whispered soothingly in Hatate’s ear. “You don’t want to hurt yourself. Take a deep breath. Relax.”
Hatate did so, and she managed to remove her finger without too much painful resistance. Tears pooled in her eyes as she collapsed to the floor. She never checked to see if Aya had actually left, and now her supervisor — someone she might have dared to call her only friend — had caught her in this embarrassing state. Her mind was simply too exhausted to process it, so all she wanted to do was curl up in a ball and cry.
Aya, however, was completely sympathetic, and kept holding Hatate. “It’s alright,” she told her. “Please, don’t be upset. After all, do you think I haven’t done the same thing?”
Hatate stared at her. She wasn’t quite sure if she was hallucinating or not.
“Let me see your hand,” Aya continued. When Hatate tried to offer her clean hand, Aya swatted it away. “Not that one.” Then she grabbed the hand Hatate had been pleasuring herself with only seconds before, looked at it, and then stuck Hatate’s middle finger into her mouth. Hatate watched with wide eyes as Aya took the finger in her mouth to the base, played with it a little using her tongue, and then pulled it out of her mouth. “A raw smell, but a clean taste,” Aya remarked, licking her lips. “I guess you would be clean if you don’t eat a lot, huh? You always were so petite.” Then she looked right into Hatate’s eyes. “So lovely.”
Hatate could barely keep track of what was going on, but she felt like she had to leave. She tried to stand up, but tripped on her panties and skirt that were still around her ankles. She caught herself on the table.
But before Hatate could stand up, Aya pushed her down on the table and bent her over one of the wide tables the interns shared. “That’s a good position,” Aya remarked, spreading Hatate’s ass apart. “Keep it that way, will you?”
Hatate didn’t realize what Aya meant until she felt something distinctly foreign slip into her asshole. She turned back to look, but Aya held her down with one arm — a testament to just how much she overpowered Hatate. “A, Aya, what are you doing?” Hatate finally croaked. “Someone might—ah!”
Aya took the opportunity to slip a second finger inside. “Don’t worry,” she assured her assistant with a wide smile. “I locked the doors. We have this time all to ourselves. So enjoy it.”
Two fingers were more than enough to keep Hatate from forming words. All she could do was moan and groan as Aya pumped her fingers inside her asshole. It was such a stronger sensation than when Hatate did it herself — and she had absolutely no control over it. Every few seconds, Aya would dig in and part her fingers, which would make Hatate yelp. Her ass started to burn from Aya’s fingerwork, and tears kept streaming down Hatate’s red-hot face.
Then Aya’s fingers stopped, and Hatate thought it might be over. Aya laughed. “Well now, Hatate, you really are making a mess. You’re dripping on the floor.” Aya bent down to inspect Hatate’s oozing sex, all without removing her fingers from her asshole. “I have to say, this is impressive. I always knew you would be petite, but you’re practically bald.” Hatate gasped as Aya stuck her nose in and took a big whiff. “Ah, it smells better than I ever could have dreamed. Your asshole is really tight, but it looks like I could have a lot of fun down here. It really is a perfect pussy, Hatate.”
Hatate didn’t know how to respond. She still couldn’t believe it was happening. For all she knew, she had passed out at her computer and was having a nightmare. That was far more pleasant than confronting whatever this was.
Then she felt something enter her, that she had never felt before. It was wide, thick, and slimy. When Hatate heard Aya’s muffled moans, she realized what was happening: Aya was eating her out. And this, she did with the same vigor as her fingers that continued to dig inside her asshole. The two different sensations, the confusion, and the shame all wore on Hatate’s mind, as something began to build up deep inside her. “Please, Aya!” she called out. “I can’t, I don’t, I—”
But Hatate’s words fell apart as Aya’s tongue and fingers only moved fiercer and fiercer. Aya even used her other hand to rub Hatate’s clit, adding another layer to the chaos. Each movement contributed to a knot that tightened and tightened within Hatate, until it finally exploded, releasing seething waves that overwhelmed her. Even as her nethers throbbed, Aya did not relent, and Hatate felt her mind erode away under an immense weight she had never felt before.
When Hatate came to, she noticed that a small puddle of drool had formed on the table. She didn’t feel Aya inside her anymore, but her nethers ached. She turned around just in time to be blinded by a short flash, and a loud click — that sound of a shutter closing.
“Ah, beautiful,” Aya remarked, as her camera printed out the undeveloped picture. “It’s even better that your face is in it. You’re quite a sight, Hatate. I think I’m going to start calling you my beautiful assistant—no, I think ‘partner’ has a better ring to it.”
Hatate’s greasy hair was ruffled, she felt red and hot all over, and her own fluids stuck to the inside of her thighs. She pulled herself off the table, but her legs were too shaky to support even her own meager weight. Even in her dazed state, however, she recognized what that picture meant. “Aya, that picture, you can’t—”
“I know,” Aya cut her off. “This picture is for my own pleasure, I assure you. I would never think of showing it to anyone else. After all, I’d like to think this commemorates our new relationship. We aren’t just co-workers, or even friends, Hatate. We’re partners now. And I think it will stay that way for a long time. Don’t you agree?”
Not like this.
Aya looked at the undeveloped photo fondly. “Well, thanks for the memory, Hatate. Hopefully we can make more soon. I’ll let you get back to work, for real.”
Later that morning, TNN bustled with the other tengu Aya Shameimaru was disgusted to call co-workers. She sat at her computer, mindlessly checking her emails while the others chatted about whatever dry, shallow garbage they felt like regurgitating at each other.
But Aya stopped when she noticed someone hesitating behind her. She knew who it was, but she wanted to make her get her attention.
“A, Aya.” Hatate spoke up after half a minute. Her voice broke and she hated herself for it.
Aya turned around and crossed her legs. “Ah, if it isn’t my beautiful partner. Do you have something for me?”
Hatate thrust the story at Aya’s chest. “It’s done.”
Aya took the papers, then glanced at the clock on her computer. “Just in time. I was starting to worry that you might have been too distracted to get anything done.”
Hatate took a deep breath. Her cheeks were warm. “I managed.”
Aya skimmed through the papers, and then looked up at Hatate. Her face was even paler than usual, and her eyes were a bit swollen and red. Aya could tell she was trying to focus anywhere else but on her. She would even fidget with herself every few seconds. When Hatate dared to peek at Aya’s face, she found herself meeting her dark eyes and twitched.
It all made Aya feel very good. She flashed Hatate her biggest grin. “It looks like shit, but I’ll accept it. Well then, great work, etcetera etcetera.”
Hatate nodded. “Okay.” Then she kept looking at Aya.
Aya let the silence drag on for a few seconds before she finally spoke up. “Was there something else, Hatate?”
There were many things, but Hatate no longer had the voice for them. “I don’t need to go home and sleep,” she muttered. “Just give me the next story.”
Aya watched her for a moment, and then nodded. “Of course. The truth doesn’t wait for us, after all! Onward to the next droll happening in the village, partner.”
Hatate thought about the truth.
But all she wanted to do was work.