[X] The Land of Rear Doors

“…Perhaps the Land of Rear Doors?” At least you can’t be cornered there, right?

“Land of Rear Doors?” Aya puts a finger to her chin. “That could work… if I still had my own back door.”

“Uh, hey, the land of what?”

“Rear Doors. I did a story on it just after the four seasons incident. It’s sort of like a giant intersection to every place in Gensokyo. Not the easiest place for a simple human to try and live. But in this girl’s case, it might be a step up from the alternative.”

Shizuha grumbles as she slides your panties back up your leg. “And how many youkai live there?”

“I’m not sure that any youkai live there. The only people I encountered were the local goddess and her servants.”

“Goddess.” Shizuha repeats.

“Yes. Okina Matara. Goddess of secrets or something.”

Shizuha snaps your underwear pack into position. “But nothing else?”

“Nothing I know of.”

“Fine. Land of Rear Doors it is. Just tell me how to get there.”

“Sorry, I lost my only ticket back in.” Aya flicks her head to the side. “Crap. Gotta go.” Aya turns back to you, pulling a small wallet out of her shorts. She places it on your belly. “Here’s a sort of… parting gift. Promise you won’t lose it, and you won’t open it near anyone else, okay?”

“…Okay?”

“Good. Now, Shizuha, Naoko. If you want to try and get there, you should look for somewhere Okina’s been operating recently and hope she left one behind.”

Aya leaps backward and slips through your door. Heavy footsteps echo in the distance. Nue peeks her head out your window, those… things splaying out behind her. She turns back to you.

“Hey uh, Naoko? Shizuha? We gotta go.”

“Right.” Shizuha starts working your arms back into the sleeves. Straining, you shift your arm slightly toward the hole.

Nue pushes Shizuha aside. She grabs one side of your kimono and pulls it across your body. She pulls the opposite side across. She pulls both sides tight, pinning your arms to your sides, and the wallet to your waist. Grabbing your obi with one hand, she lifts your waist with the other. Slipping the obi underneath, she pulls it up and around, tying it across your stomach.

“…What the hell are your doing?”

Slipping her arms beneath your upper back and your knees, Nue heaves you up. And extends her arms out.

“Here you go.” You fall into another pair of arms.

“I’ll buy you guys some time, if Naoko promises a date when she gets back.”

“She’s not coming ba-”

“I’ll do it.” She’s already saved your ass once, and you kind of want to know how a youkai shows her affection when she’s not about to force herself on you. If you can just get over her extra bits.

“Sweet! Trust me, this monster will be ancient history by the time you’re back.”

Nue takes off, her form shifting just before she leaves your sight.

Shizuha rocks you from side to side, pressing your face and knees against her breasts. She settles your body against herself, all but burying you in the soft fabric of her dress. She steps toward the door. She peeks around the corner, then jogs out and into the street. Dodging through back streets, she leads you toward the edge of the village.

Skirting around the still-bustling markets, Shizuha glances at the walls. She leaps up, reaching at least double your body’s height and clearing the wall. With a quiet whump, she lands on the other side.

“So, genius, what’s your master plan now?”

You… never quite thought it through this far. You’d kind of spit-balled that name, not necessarily expecting anyone to go along with it. It sounds wonderful: no youkai, and numerous exits, so you’re never cornered. But as to how you’d get there…

“…the Hakurei shrine, maybe?”

“The Hakurei shrine.”

“There’s always a party there when the incidents end, right?”

“That one was at least a year ago.”

“Oh.”

“So, we’re back where…” Shizuha trails off. Amid the cricket cries of sunset, a gentle, melodious voice wafts through the air.

“There she is!” A guard cries from the wall.

Shizuha takes off, surging toward the woods. She flies close to the ground. Odd.

Kogasa did something similar. And come to think of it, so did Ayame… no, Nue. Maybe you should ask someone about that, next time you catch a break.

The singing grows loud enough for you to make out some of the words.

“When first I heard your voice, I knew I had no choice~ My love is far too much to tame~”

And it’s apparently a cliché love song.

“Your kind, lovely voice, still makes my heart rejoice~”

Light drains from around you as Shizuha plunges deep into the woods. The sound of crickets fades, replaced by calls and cries from insects you’ve never heard before.

“When first the passion came, I lost all sense of shame~”

That… sounds uncomfortably familiar.

Shizuha stops to lean against a tree.

“Land of Rear Doors… How the hell do we get there?”

“You!”

A finger jabs at you, attached to slender body, in a light blouse and dark, poofy shorts. A bowl of green hair frames her glaring face. There’s… something on her back, probably. Maybe a cape of some kind?

“Your damn siblings can’t stop me now!”

The song grows a touch louder. Is the singer moving toward you?

“Though I never won your game, please tell me your name~”

“…Who are you?” There is something familiar about her. But just barely. Like a neighbor who needed help once. Or one you caught trying to swipe something.

“Wriggle Nightbug! We met behind your house, but those bastards tore us apart! And you never came back!”

The girl reaches out to grab you. Shizuha jerks away. The girl throws herself at you, crashing against both of you. She wraps her arms around you and tugs.

“Let me go!”

“No, goddamnit! You belong with me!”

A thump. Shizuha shakes but holds firm. The girl trips backward but refuses to let go. You crash into her flat chest, as Shizuha falls on top of you. For one peaceful moment, they both let go.

The girl’s hands shoot back around you, but Shizuha shoves them away. Shizuha pushes you away, and you tumble into the leaves of the forest floor. The girl twists toward you, but Shizuha yanks her back.

“Run, Naoko. I’ve got her.”

The singing grows louder. And clearer. The singer is moving toward you. With Shizuha distracted, you’ve got no one left to protect you. Slowly, you heave yourself into a sitting position. Your hands are still tangled in your mis-tied dress, but you don’t have time to try to correct it. Instead, you lean forward, press your feet beneath you, and drag yourself upright.

“I hope it’s not too crass, how much I need your ass~”

Your legs shake, your body wobbles, and your muscles whine. But you’re upright.

You take a few shaking steps back. That girl lunges toward you, but Shizuha tackles her. Something stirs in the near-black air around you. With four awkward steps, you swivel around, looking deeper into the forest. You plant one foot forward, then the other. You shamble into the darkness.

You trample through soft, wet leaves as you march through the woods, traveling as fast as your weary legs can carry you.

“Please, don’t make me act like a whore~”

Long, winding branches hang just above your head, covered in old and rough bark. It feels like you’ve done all this before.

“It's too lovely a mass, to ever let it pass~”

You glance behind you. You see nothing but the darkened trees immediately near you. Everything else is black. If you just had use of your arms, you might use the nearby trees as leverage. Still, you force your sluggish body forward.

“We’ll join ‘till you’re sore, and you can’t stand anymore~”

Scattered webs enter your view, perched in the corners where branches meet their trees’ trunks.

“Oh, we’ll fuck again and again~”

You look back again, to find a pair of fluffy ears on a mop of fluffy pink hair, and bizarre, brown wings spread wide. You’re too tired and worn to jump back. Instead, your foot catches on a root. Instantly, a pair of hands are wrapped around your back, long nails sliding against your bundled dress.

“You’ll beg for more, forgetting who you were before~” She sings into the crook of your neck.

Her hands guide you into her chest, depositing your chin between her heavy breasts.

“Do you like my song? It’s about us.”

“It’s a bit forward, isn’t it?” Like the way she’s pressing her tits against your cheeks.

She chirps.

“Of course not. We’re getting married, right?”

“Married?”

“Yes. You stood me up for a year! Don’t you remember? You promised!”

Did you? A year ago would be… that summer. Was she part of the onslaught? Did you do something weird to get away from her?

You know, most girls would ditch someone for pulling that. Why couldn’t she be one of those girls?

“Would it be too late to call the whole thing off?”

“Well, I guess. But then you’d have to be my mistress, and that’s just weird.”

“What the hell, Mystia!” That’s the girl from before.

Mystia looks back over her shoulder. “…Oh, hey, Wriggle. Uh… This is not what it looks like…”

“Urgh, that’s not why I’m mad! ‘Mistress’ is the opposite of what she’s supposed to be!”

“Different kind of mistress, Wriggle.”

“Still, you thought you’d have her all to yourself, didn’t you?”

“Uh, well…” Mystia’s arms press your face into her chest.

There’s a dramatic sigh. A floral perfume assaults your nose from the fabric of Mystia’s dress, as she buries your face in it. The might of her seemingly delicate hand threatens to smother you between her breasts.

“Whatever.” Wriggle grunts. “But you heard her. She doesn’t want to marry us, and you know what that means.”

“That’s too cruel! How could you do that to her?”

Your eyes flutter, as your muscles sag.

“Excuse me? She blue balled us for decades!”

“One year, Wriggle. It was one year. And besides, we don’t have balls.”

“Still.” Wriggle lets out a strangled sigh. “No. She said no. We’re going with my plan now.”

Their voices grow distant.

“But she didn’t actually say no yet, did she?”

“Well, no, bu…” Your mind trails off into oblivion.

--------------------

Wet leaves rustle against your head, and the bare flesh of your ass and side. Coarse rope pins your wrists together, behind your back. You’re naked again, but your strength is back.

Pulling your torso upright, you glance around. You’re in some kind of clearing. Well-lit leaves extend out a few paces, before they plunge into impenetrable shadow. Aches and creaks makes themselves known across your body, but they’re manageable. Almost as an afterthought, you snap your thighs together, hopefully hiding your pussy.

Mystia and Wriggle are nowhere to be seen. Thank god.

Footsteps sound, rustling the leaves beneath them. A thick, but curvy figure steps out of the shadow. Like you, she’s completely nude. Full breasts and giant hips sway as she steps forward. A head of full, wavy hair. A face you’ve seen before…

It’s Masami. Masami Honda.

Your mother.

That forest between the thighs, that you’re staring at right now, belongs to your mother.

She turns and drops to her ass next to you.

“How was your day, Naoko?”

She slides her hands to your sides and pulls you into her lap. She’s still a bit taller than you. Hard nipples press into your back, as her pubic hair rustles against your bound hands.

You throw yourself forward, but her arms wrap around your belly and hold firm. Confused, you fall back into her, and fall back on old, old habits.

“I… made a new friend…”

“That’s good to hear. Is she taking care of you?”

“I… well, I lost her recently, but she’s been really helpful so far. I wish there was something I could do for her, though.”

“That’s good, but you should be more careful. Goddesses aren’t as safe for you as they seem.”

Goddess? When did you say that?

“I hear you’ve had some troubles lately, do you want to talk about it?”

“Troubles, like what?”

“They say some mean girls have been pushing you to do things you don’t want.”

“I… it’s fine. It’s under control.” You shut your eyes. Now’s not the time to break down. “I’ll get away from them soon.”

There’s a bright, clear blue sky through the window. You’re sitting at the dinner table now, your bare ass still resting on your mother’s thighs. The table’s bare, and the room is likewise deserted. No fire, utensils, dishes, tools, or anything.

Not even any sounds from outside.

Soft hands slide down your arms, rubbing them.

“You have a plan, right?”

“Of course. I just need to find the right door.”

“What sort of door are you looking for?”

“I’m… not sure. But I need to find one that leads to the realm of the rear door.”

“‘Realm of the Rear Door,’ hm?” She slides one hand across your belly, rubbing circles in it. “And how do you plan to find that door?”

“I… don’t know.”

She slides her hands beneath your breasts. “Well then, perhaps I can help.”

“Really?”

“Yes, but I’m afraid it will come at some cost. You see, I have a friend who knows the way in, but she won’t give that away for free.” She gives one breast a light bounce. “She’ll need something from you. Your name, your face, your humanity, or something like that.”

“…What does that even mean?”

“I’m afraid I don’t know. How badly do you want to access that realm?”

“I… I’d give…”

--------------------

[X] ‘My name.’ It’s valuable, but losing it probably wouldn’t hurt you.

[X] ‘My face.’ No way this could hurt you, right?

[X] ‘My humanity.’ What does that even mean?

[X] ‘Nothing.’ This has ‘scam’ written all over it.

[X] Write-in.

--------------------

If you find the votes a bit cryptic this time around, I'm fine with clarifying them.

[X] ‘Nothing.’ This has ‘scam’ written all over it.

“I… I’d give… Nothing.”

A pressure tightens around a nipple as your… As ‘Masami’ pinches it.

“Life will be difficult for you without that help. You know that, right?”

“Yes. I… I know.” You can’t quite remember what happened to you before this, but you’re certain you were in peril. And yet… to give in to strange demands, from a strange woman, with only vague promises of help? No. Whatever trouble you faced before, you’re better off facing on your own. “But I’ll face it myself.”

For some reason, you don’t quite feel comfortable openly admitting you don’t trust her. Or her ‘friend’. You’re starting to wonder if they’re really different people.

“Well…” A pair of fingers closes around your other nipple, and Masami tugs at them. Your skin crawls at the feeling. “I won’t try to stop you, but I’m not sure when you’ll ever find help again. Are you really okay with that?”

“…I am.” More okay than giving what she wants, anyway.

Pain coils through your breasts, as Masami twists your nipples.

“Very well. But I’ll be watching.” With one last, painful twist, Masami lets go, and her hands return to cupping your breasts. It’s… technically an improvement.

“Why… why does that friend want to help?”

“She didn’t say. All I know is that you’ve managed to catch her attention.” Masami rubs circles around your areola.

“Why does she want those things?”

“Hm…” One hand slides down to your crotch, gently rubbing your pussy.

“Could you… could you not touch that? Please?”

A finger slips inside.

“H-how’s Shizuha? Is she okay?”

“Oh, she’s fine. But you… well… I hope you like chains…”

--------------------

Birds chirp as the smell of grilled meat floats toward your nostrils. Your head throbs in pain, but you’re not quite sure from what. A soft cushion and warm sheets comfort you, but the way your nipples rub against them feels weird. You stir, only to feel metal dig into your wrists and rub against your crotch. Groaning, you open your eyes. You’re in a bedroom, with a short table to your right, and a chair in the corner. You twist your wrists, but they’re locked tight behind the headboard. Flipping your head back, you find a pair of metal bands chained together behind the wooden bars. A chain that's barely three links long.

You’re pretty sure that being chained to a stranger’s bed isn’t the worst position you’ve been in. Yet. The strange metal wrapped around your crotch might change that, though. Or the legs straddling your stomach. You look down your torso at the green-haired girl sitting on you, her black cape draped over your blanket. Her creepy antennae wiggle, and she pulls the blanket off your breasts.

Goosebumps crawl across the bare flesh of your breasts. You're naked under the sheets.

“Morning, bitch.” That voice is far too cheerful to have uttered that sentence.

Wriggle’s crotch pinches the blanket over your stomach, twisting it with each movement. She leans forward, planting her hands on your breasts to support her weight. She’s grinning, somewhere between playful and vindictive.

“Slept well?” She leans in close, two black antennae all but touching your face. She pulls back. “’Cause I did. Best sleep I’ve had in ages!” A grin breaks out across her face. “Hey, how ‘bout I give you a free preview of what you’re doing tonight?”

“No?”

Wriggle shrugs. “That’s cool. I don’t mind if you struggle.” Her grin grows. “That just makes it more fun.”

Something primal wells up within you. You can’t help it, and can’t resist what happens.

You scream.

“Hel-”

In a split-second, Wriggle’s leg flips over your body, turning her around. Your breath dies in your throat. Her ass looms over you, as a pair of shoes press against the sides of your face, draped over your arms. You try to pull yourself toward the headboard, but her feet prove stronger. Slowly, her ass sinks toward you. Darkness falls, as her black shorts blot out the light. Then it happens. Her ass-cheeks first press against your face, then sink to either side. You can feel the depression of her asshole through the shorts.

“Naturally, you’ll be eating this out ‘till your tongue falls off. But we still haven’t quite figured out where Mystia fits in.” Wriggle’s voice is muffled, but still understandable. She plants her hands on your breasts. “She wants to do something more ‘romantic’, but that’s gonna be kind of hard.”

The scent of denim and her ass fills your nose. You push upward, arcing your body for every ounce of strength you can muster. You push. But Wriggle’s just too goddamn heavy. You twist your body, hoping for some kind of leverage. Nothing.

Mercifully, Wriggle lifts her ass up. You take in a deep gulp of purer air.

“Thank y-”

Wriggle sits it back down, burying your face again. “Aw c’mon~ We can play around a little longer, right?”

You strain to breathe, as Wriggle’s ass dominates your lungs. At least you’re not forced to sniff directly from her asshole. Still, what you’d give for a moment of clean air. Her ass lifts back up again.

It stops a hair’s breadth from your face. It’s enough to breathe a bit easier, but you can’t see anything beyond the black-clad cheeks. For several excruciating moments, it just sits there. Her feet remain clamped to either side of your head; there’s still nothing you can do if she chooses to sit back down.

She stays still.

“Uh… Wriggle. P-please, I’ll do wh-”

Her ass buries you again, her asshole nearing your lips again.

“If I want you to do something, you’ll do it. Besides.” She lets out a quiet, surprisingly feminine moan. Her ass wiggles from side to side, carrying your face with it. “I doubt anything could feel better than this seat.”

Then she stops. Wriggle leans back, burying the entirety of your face beneath her ass-cheeks. Your lungs strain, but barely anything makes it through the barrier of denim and flesh, pressed against your nose and mouth. It feels as if, for this moment, your entire world is just Wriggle’s taut, but suffocating ass.

Then, in a move that squeezes her ass-cheeks around your face, Wriggle hops off the bed. Gripping the edge of your blanket, she yanks it off. You shudder in the suddenly-cold morning air. Wriggle crawls back onto the bed, to sit between your legs. Gripping each by the thigh, she hefts them up. Revealing a metal ‘T’ shape wrapped around your crotch, with some sort of grill in front of your pussy.

The vision of your otherwise utter nudity doesn’t surprise you anymore.

“What do you think?”

You stare at your own crotch, as blood rushes to your head.

“…What is it?”

Wriggle sets your thighs back down, beaming with pride and… something else. Sadism, probably.

“A chastity belt. Now you don’t get to cum unless I allow you. And hey, check this out.” Wriggle fishes through a pocket, then pulls out a small, pink block with a couple knobs on it. She pushes a button.

Something vibrates inside you. It pushes against your flesh with a light thrum, just behind the ‘belt’. You can’t help but squirm a little, but it doesn’t do much.

Wriggle giggles, in a way that’s somehow menacing. She pushes the button again, and the vibrations stop.

“By the time I’m done, you’ll be begging me to fuck you. Just like I would have, had you even given me the chance.”

“Breakfast is ready! Wriggle, bring her over!”

Wriggle shrugs and hops back off. Leaning over you, she fiddles with the bands. There’s a click, and one opens.

You try to bolt out and away from Wriggle, only for her to catch you by the wrist and pull you back. Grabbing the empty shackle, she yanks. Thrown off-balance, you tumble off the bed, held up by your still-bound wrist. Stumbling to your feet, you stagger forward as she opens the door and drags you through it.

You should use your free hand to find something to fight back or escape with. Instead you use it to hide your pussy, and the short hairs now growing near it. You squirm as she drags your naked ass toward Mystia.

There’s a plate of rice and some kind of meat on the table. Mystia stands next to it, beaming.

“Sit her down.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Wriggle hauls you to a chair. She shoves you onto it and pulls one arm through the bars at the edge of the seat’s back. Then, pulling the other arm through the opposite gap, she snaps the cuff back around your wrist, binding your wrists behind you again. The angle bends your arms such that the entirety of your forearms are trapped behind the bars. And you’re forced forward at an angle that exhibits your breasts to your captors.

You give the restraints a light, experimental tug, too intimidated by her earlier aggression to do anything more… obstinate.

“Welp, I’m done here.” Wriggle takes a plate and returns to what must be the bedroom.

“Hey! Don’t make a mess.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” The door closes.

“Honestly. If I hadn’t needed her help…”

You glance at the plate in front of you. You lean forward, twisting your arms. You can’t reach the plate. Is this a cruel joke?

“Oh, sorry!” Mystia leans in front of you, using a fork to pick out a piece of meat. She raises it to your lips. “Say ‘ahhh’…”

Biting back frustration, you open your mouth.

She extends the fork, and you clamp down. She pulls the fork back, and you chew. It’s not too bad. Weirdly sweet and a bit bland, but not bad.

“I’m sorry about the handcuffs, but Wriggle’s just so convinced you’ll run away.” Mystia readies another fork, this time including some rice. Obediently, you open back up. Your dry mouth can wait. Mystia slips a hand under your chin as she glides the food in. You take the bite.

“You said you loved me, you know. Why’d you leave?”

You take your time to chew. You need an answer that doesn’t piss her off, but also doesn’t promise too much. Not until you know what will or won’t bite you in the ass. You decide on something partly true.

“I was just… confused.” You start. Some thought or feeling flits across Mystia’s face. “Everything happened so fast. By the time you came, I barely knew who I was.” Technically true. You ran through dozens of theories as to why every youkai around suddenly wanted to fuck you. At one point you figured you must have actually been a youkai. “I’m sorry.” Sorry you got caught, that is. You still put on as contrite and sorrowful a face as you can muster.

Mystia’s face melts. She rushes toward you and throws her arms through the bars to hug you. “It’s okay. We’re together now, and we can finally do everything we promised!”

That puts a pit in your stomach. After a year of memories you wished to forget, you suddenly wish you had perfect memory. Just what the hell did you promise her?

“Well, we can’t do the chocolate tonight, but maybe the pet-play?”

…What the hell is that?

“Oh! You’re probably thirsty too.” Mystia rushes off. Your plate’s barely started. Mystia returns with a clay cup. She extends it to you. “Actually…” She pulls it back. “I’ve got a better idea.”

At just that moment, you feel a click. That thrum starts back up. That… thing vibrates against your walls again.

Mystia raises the cup to her own lips and takes a drink. Grinning, she sets the cup next to your plate and turns to you. She swings a leg over your lap and straddles you. Your legs squirm at the vibrations between them. Sliding her arms behind your head, she leans in and presses her lips to yours.

For a moment, nothing happens. Then Mystia grunts. You part your lips. A sweet, tangy fluid pours down your mouth, and drips down your chin. Fruit juice, but not a fruit you’re familiar with. It’s a welcome relief to your throat, at least. A hard pulse beats against your walls, jolting you and spilling some of the juice down your chin and breasts. Mystia pulls back to take another swig.

She leans back in for another ‘drink’. The vibrations cease. You open up. Just as the first drops slide down your tongue, another hard pulse hits you. You jerk, pushing Mystia back and spilling more of the juice down your bare chest. Mystia takes another gulp and goes right back in, undeterred.

You swallow almost all of it, but her tongue follows. You lock up. You can’t bring yourself to play to this. Mystia pulls back.

Mystia buries her face in your shoulder. “It’s okay. You’re a bit confused right now. I just love you so, so much.”

“You don’t know the first thing about me.”

“That’s not true… Your name is Naoko, you helped check the crops in the morning, but by evening, you’d either play card games with your sisters, or throw a ball with your brothers. You’re a C-cup with a plump ass and…”

“…About who I am.”

“We’ll figure out together.”

Three hard pulses hit your walls. Then it hits a constant thrum, much, much harder than before.

Mystia leans back from you, as a tremor rocks your body. She pops the top button off her dress. She looks at you, bashful. “Do you… do you still feel that way I…”

You open your mouth to respond, just as a ring falls between you and her, held aloft by a pair of metal brackets, each fixed to a leather strap. Before you can speak, it’s jammed between your teeth and latched up behind your head.

“Bweh?”

Your tongue lolls just beyond your jaw, now held wide open by that ring. The brackets pull at the sides of your lips. The vibrations ease to a low hum.

“Hey! We were having a serious discussion, Wriggle!” Mystia steps off your lap.

While they’re talking, you lean forward, straining against the chair.

“Yeah, about sappy shit. Now are you gonna help me train her or not?”

You have no hope in breaking the cuffs on your wrists, but maybe you could snap the wood?

“She doesn’t need to be trained!”

You pound your forearms against the bars, to no avail.

“Mystia, do you even know what a sex slave is?”

“Hweh?” You can’t hide your alarm at that remark. Small beads of sweat form on your skin.

“Shh, girl. Your fiancés are talking.”

Sex slave? Spittle flies from your mouth, as you make one last, desperate heave against the chair.

“Fiancé? Are you kidding me? You still seriously think she’ll even consider fulfilling her marital duties?”

You sag in defeat, staring down your moistened breasts. Saliva trails from your chin, to your bare breasts, down your naval. Small shivers still climb up and down your body, caused by hum inside your pussy.

“If you’d been listening, she’s already all but confessed her love!”

Wait, you did what? When?

“Anyway, take that horrible gag away.”

“You sure you want me to?”

Mystia hesitates. “Why wouldn’t I?”

A hand wraps around your chin. It forcibly angles your face to Mystia’s.

“’Cause I could’ve sworn there was something you really wanted to with these lips.”

“I…” Mystia looks down at you. Well, more leers than looks. “I shouldn’t. You know I shouldn’t. I should just wait…” She glances at Wriggle. “Just this once. And only for a moment.”

Mystia pops every button off her the top half dress in record time. She’s flushed, breathing heavy, and licking her lips. She's shaking but doesn't even slow down. The blouse is half-undone before you notice, both sagging on one side to the deep red of her bra, and the breast it supports. She pops the cup up, exposing her pendulous breast. She leans forward. Wriggle’s hand forces your gaze a bit lower. A single, swollen, brown nipple slides through the ring. Her heavy flesh sealing the hole. The nipple slides against your tongue.

“Ohh… Oh, Honda. We are so going to do this every day.”

“Which is why we should just keep her as a sex slave.”

“But that was not. The. Deal.”

Whack! Your ass burns from the force of Wriggle’s slap. Mystia’s hands fly around the back of your head, keeping your lips on her breast. Her rock-hard nipple slides along your tongue.

“Come on, Mystia! She stood you up. Left you cold and alone. Besides, why do you even want to marry her when you could just fuck her?”

“I…” Mystia nudges your head, trying to force her breast deeper inside. “It’s love, Wriggle. You wouldn’t understand.”

“Love, huh? And if she doesn’t want to fuck you? Would you love her enough to leave her alone?”

“I don’t know! Maybe?”

“And besides, don’t you have work today? Do you really think you can take her with you?”

“I’ll work something out! Now let her speak, so she can prove she still loves me.”

“Fine.”

Wriggle circles around in front of you and pushes Mystia to the side, finally freeing your tongue from her breast. You’d try to cleanse your mouth, if you could move it. She slides her hands behind your head, leaning in close. Quietly, she speaks.

“You and I are going to have a lot of… fun, if she or I find out you lied today.” She leans back and speaks louder. “Actually, I don’t think she really needs to speak. So, girl. You love her or not. Just nod your head to say yes, or shake it to say no.”

Mystia stares at you, hiding nervous shivers behind a bright, but plastered-on smile. Wriggle looks more… eager. Like she’s just waiting for you to fuck up.

Could you possibly do it? Pretend to not only like, but love the woman who’ll rape you? And keep up that charade for who knows how long? Could you possibly say no, knowing your fate may be even worse?

“Oh, don’t forget. You’re not just marrying her. If Mystia gets you as a bride, then so do I. Aren’t you such a lucky girl?”

A part of you really wants to just kick her. Groin, stomach, legs, wherever. It’s a stupid, stupid idea, but this might just be your only chance to wipe that grin off her face. There’s no way it’d be worth her retaliation, is there?

Thinking on it, drool still gliding down your chin, you…

--------------------

[X] Nod. You need every ounce of protection you can get.

[X] Shake. You can’t do it. You just can’t do it.

[X] Kick. This is a terrible idea, but it'll feel so good.

[X] Write-in.

--------------------

I should probably lay off on the facesitting for bit.

[X] Nod. You need every ounce of protection you can get.
[X] Kick. This is a terrible idea, but it’ll feel so good.

…You nod, disrupting the saliva flow from your locked-open maw. Goddamnit. Mystia’s face lights up like a star, as her wings fan out. She pops the cup of her bra back over her breast, but leaves her dress and blouse sagging open.

Her smile’s nice, but if you’re doing this, you need some protection from the green sadist. And since you can’t speak, you do the only thing you can think of. Hauling one naked leg up, you pound it into Wriggle’s gut. Amazingly, she actually stumbles backward.

“You piece of sh-!”

Mystia leaps forward, knocking Wriggle aside as she buries her tongue behind your locked teeth. She drapes a hand behind your head, and another around your back. Her tongue drifts between your lips, sliding against your own and taking brief tastes across the sides of your mouth. Like she’s testing the waters. She pushes her tongue underneath yours, then sweeps it back over.

She pulls back, licking her lips. You suck a breath in, through jaws still locked wide open.

Mystia hops back and circles behind you. Wriggle rubs her stomach, muttering under her breath. She grabs a fat, white stick of some sort, with a black cap. Looming over you, she extends it toward your forehead. You swing your leg back for another kick, only for her to catch it with her foot.

“Don’t hurt her, Wriggle.” Mystia fiddles with your cuffs.

“Yeah, yeah.” She pops the cap off, revealing a very short black brush at the end, and presses it against your face. You wince as she rubs it against your forehead, moving it in squiggly lines for a few moments. When she pulls back, you open your eyes to catch her bringing it down to your lower belly.

You squirm helplessly as Wriggle scribbles something just above the belt, just before a cuff snaps open. Wriggle bounces back and walks away. You pull your wrists out from the chair, as Mystia circles back around. She takes one look at Wriggle’s handiwork.

“Wriggle!”

“Just leaving her a few… reminders.”

Mystia groans in frustration. She turns to you and stretches out her hand. Hesitant, you accept, and she helps pull you upright.

“C’mon, Naoko.” Mystia wraps her arm around your shoulder, her almost bare breast against your side. She leads you back to the bedroom. Your heart pounds and your fingers twitch. She’ll probably expect you to do it with her. Enthusiastically. Like you want her inside you, or to be inside her. You’ve been through a lot, but that… What’ll happen when she finds out you lied? Will she tell Wriggle?

A hand snaps around your free wrist and drags it behind your back, snapping the cuff back on it before you can act. You throw your gaze behind you, to find Wriggle slipping a key down her shorts.

“Iheea. Ieh. Eeuh,” you blurt out, trying to force words through the ring.

Mystia opens the door and turns back to you. “Oh. Heh, heh, sorry. Gimme just a sec, okay?”

She leads you to the bed and sits you down on it, then plops down beside you and starts working the straps to your gag. Her wings encircle you, not quite touching your skin. With a clack, the clasp is undone, and she pulls it loose. Then, leaning against you, she pulls the straps away from your head and pops the ring out of your mouth. She pulls it back to herself as you exercise your jaw. It’s already a bit sore.

Then Mystia wraps her arms around you and throws you into the mattress, wrapping her body and wings around you.

“Oh, this is a dream come true!” She nuzzles into your shoulder. “It’s finally happened! After that long, cold year, you’re finally here, where you belong!” She plants a quick, soft kiss on your neck.

A click. The vibrations start again, having stopped at some point during the chaos. Your breath hitches, but you manage to keep from letting anything more embarrassing out.

“So, where do you want to go first?”

“Go? For what?”

Mystia swats your thigh. “For our date, silly. We can’t just get married without going on at least one, right?”

Date. Of course. Just what y- hrk. A bead of moisture trickles out from behind the belt. No. You could use this. If you play your cards just right, you could hold off on actual sex until afterward, right?

“So, where do you want to go?”

“I…” There’s only one place you want to be right now. But there’s a much worse monster waiting there. You clamp your legs together, fighting the urge to rub them against one another as the heat builds.

The vibrations die back down. Wriggle’s playing with you. Taunting you. You need to get the hell out of here before she breaks you down. If you could just yank that thing out of your…

Your stomach rumbles.

“Oh, oops. I kinda forgot to finish feeding you, huh? Give me just a second.” Mystia lets go and stands back up. “Oh, stay there for a bit, okay?”

She walks back through the door.

For one precious moment, you’re alone. You’re bare-ass naked, hands tied behind your back, but you’re alone. Idly, you wonder if you could escape like this. There’s a glass window that looks like you could just pop it open, if you could work the latch with your teeth.

Well, if you sat with your back to it, you could use your hands…

But either way, streaking through the forest, bound, is probably even worse than staying here.

The door opens, and Mystia walks back in, carrying your plate and cup. Her wings flutter as she sets the dishes on the bed-table. She scoops up a portion of your breakfast with her fork and extends it toward you.

“Say ‘ahh.’” She holds one hand under the fork, smiling.

“Ahh…”

She slides her spare hand under your chin as she guides the food in.

She spends the next several minutes feeding you. It’s quite nice. The food’s good and no one’s pestering you for pleasure. You take a moment to relax and savor the taste, until she’s fed you everything on the plate. Then she grabs the cup and empties it behind her own lips. Her cheeks swell. She leans in close, puckering her lips.

You can’t help a nervous twitch as your eyes bounce left to right, but you close them tight and open your lips. Gotta pl-

Mystia plants her lips against yours and forces the juice down your throat. She rubs her tongue against yours as she shoves you down against the mattress. Juice drips down your cheeks, onto the sheets. Everything tastes sweet and fruity. She all but collapses on top of you, wrapping one arm around your back while burying her other hand in your hair. You let out a quiet mewl as she assaults you with her tongue. She pulls back for air, ruffling your hair, but before you get a single breath in, she buries her tongue down your throat again.

She pulls back again, this time to slip her dress over her head and wings, then drop it on the floor. Her blouse follows. She must’ve unbuttoned them while she was-

Her lips crash into yours again. She holds back her tongue, for at least a moment, as she grinds her body against yours. Heavy breasts, tipped with painfully erect nipples rub against your own, as she slides a leg between yours and presses it to your crotch.

It hits metal, but she doesn’t even seem to care as she returns her arm to your back. Her tongue returns, this time poking at your own.

The hand around your back slips down and gives your ass a squeeze.

That sets something off. Before you can think about it, you’ve turned your head away, breaking the kiss. Mystia’s gyrations stop, and you make yourself drag your gaze back to her.

She stares at you, blinking, saliva still trailing from her lips. You take a few moments to catch your breath, the rise and fall of your stomach pressing against her own.

Her brow wrinkles in worry.

Shit. You’re supposed to be ‘in love’ with her. You need an excuse. Now.

“I- I… I, I’m sorry. I just… I wasn’t ready. Let’s…” Keep going. Keep going. Keep fucking going. She’s the only thing between you and Wriggle right now. Just tell her you’re ready to… “Maybe later?”

Goddamnit. You can only pray this doesn’t ruin it.

“Oh, heh heh. Sorry.” She rubs her neck. Wrapping both arms around your back, she stares deep into your eyes, a dreamy expression on her face. “It’s okay. I always knew we’d be here. Wriggle thinks it was a lie, that all your talk of love and submission was just a ruse. Just an excuse to get me to let go. And who knows? Maybe that’s true.” She strokes your hair. “But it’s okay. You’re mine now, and that’s all that matters.”

Right. Hers. You’re her little sex toy now. Just like you were Kagerou’s toy, and Kogasa’s toy, and that… thing’s toy. You’re shivering. You’re not quite sure why. You wrap y- Your cuffs clink. Right, you can’t even hug yourself.

You choke back what might be a sob. Or a cough. Or just something stuck in your throat.

“Are you okay?”

You push away with your feet and flip, turning your back to her.

“Is it something I said?”

You fold your legs in, against your stomach. You can’t do this. You can’t pretend to love her. You can barely pretend to like her. Weren’t you supposed to be in some esoteric realm by now? Rear door, or something? How the hell did one simple, goddamn trip get so badly derailed? Where’s Shizuha? Shouldn’t she have saved you by now? You never should’ve left the farm. What’s Ayame doing right now? Wh-

A faint buzz stirs against your flesh.

No. Not now. Not f-

The toy explodes into action, beating against you. Your body’s quaking in seconds. You try to choke back a groan, but your breathing’s already labored. A heavy, throaty moan escapes your tongue, and you can already feel more on the way.

“Naoko? Are you okay?”

Mystia rests a hand on your shoulder. You try to twist away from it, but you’re shaking too hard and your motor control’s shot to hell.

“F-f- i-ine.”

Your legs betray you, squirming in a vain effort to push the toy in deeper. Then the toy hits a sweet spot, arcing your back and forcing a squeal past your lips.

“You… you know, I hear some girls could get off just by playing with their breasts really well, maybe…”

What? No! Your muscles lock together, as a spasm runs through you. Your juices slip down your hips and seep into the blanket. Your body curls forward.

You feel the edge approach. She’s about to make you climax without even touching you.

Then it stops. The toy dies down to a low hum.

Your muscles sag, partly in relief, as you bite back a frustrated scream. Mystia pulls you into her arms, her still-rigid nipples reminding you of her desire.

“There, there. I’ll talk to Wriggle. I’m sure we can convince her to go a bit easier on you.” A hand slides across your breast. There’s some pleasure from her touch, which makes your skin crawl.

“…I don’t have to marry her, right?”

“Eh heh. Sorry. But you kind of do. Unless you really did want to be her slave.” Mystia idly plays with your nipple.

“Hell no.”

“Well, then I guess you’ll be Ms. Lorelei and Ms. Nightbug. I’ve got an awesome wedding dress picked out for you, you know. I think you’ll love it.” She buries her nose in your hair. “All white, and pretty, lots of lace…” The hand not fondling your tit travels south to paw at your iron belt in slow, sleepy motions.

One heavy moan escapes your lips as the toy starts back up. You bite back the next one. The returning quakes aren’t helping. Mystia’s motions soon slow to a crawl, then stop altogether. Then her other hand falls off your breast, slumping to the mattress beneath you. Her stomach pushes against you in a steady rhythm of rise and fall.

She’s asleep. Mystia is now the first person to fall asleep molesting you. And there’s still sunlight pouring over the whole goddamn room.

There’s a quiet knock on the door. Then it clicks open, and a pair of feet step around the bed, until a pair of black shorts enter your vision. Wriggle drops into a crouch, bringing her eyes level to yours.

“Hm. I guess you would make a pretty good body pillow, huh?” As far as you can tell, she’s not actually carrying any weird toys. What does she… “Well, Mystia needed the sleep anyway. Now.” She gives your breast a light swat. “Get up. We need to talk.”

You nestle into Mystia.

“Don’t bully her, Wriggle.” Mystia stirs, her voice bleary.

“Don’t nanny me, Mystia. It’s just a talk.”

“…Fine.” Mystia scoots your legs off the bed, and Wriggle hauls you upright. You squirm in her grip, twisting against her, but she just presses your arms into your torso and shoves you forward. She pushes you around the bed and back through the door. She hauls you toward that chair and drops you in it. At least she doesn’t bind you to it again.

She pulls another chair out, until it’s facing you. She sits down in it, propping her feet on your lap.

“I need you to do something for me, before I let you off the hook.” She pokes your stomach with the tips of her shoes.

“…I thought the deal was just about whether I loved Mystia?”

“The deal was that both of us got to fuck you. The question was whether we’d be fucking our wife or our slave.” She levels a glare at you, rubbing her stomach. “Somehow, I don’t trust you to follow through on your own.”

“Do you… need me to do something?”

“I need you to prove you won’t waste the past year of my life.” Wriggle swings her legs off your lap and stands up. She unzips and kicks her shorts off. There are simple black panties underneath. She sits back down, spreading her legs. “I’m not taking the belt off until Mystia and I have both come, but I need to know you’ll do your part. So, you can eat me out, or you can lick my feet. Or do something else, but I’d better come out convinced.”

A sleepy, inaudible mumble floats in from the bedroom.

Wriggle looks away and lets out a frustrated sigh. “If… If you do well enough, I might ease up on the torment. I guess.”

“If… If I…”

“Don’t? If you don’t, we go back to doing things my way.”

You gulp. In retrospect, this was probably the best you could expect from someone so deep under your “talent’s” influence. Still doesn’t ease the bile at what you’re being asked to do.

You decide to…

--------------------

[X] Eat her pussy. You’ll fuck, but you won’t bow.

[X] Lick her feet. It’s not sex, at least.

[X] Refuse. All or nothing, even if you’re bound to get nothing.

[X] Write-In.

[X] Lick her feet. It’s not sex, at least.

A part of you really wants to just come out and tell her why she wants you so badly. Maybe she wouldn’t be quite so eager to fuck you if she knew she was being manipulated. On the other hand, what if she takes that as an admission to having lied to Mystia? Now seems like a terrible time to learn what she meant by ‘fun.’

You part your suddenly dry lips.

“I… I’ll do it. I’ll… I’ll lick your, your feet.” You’re shaking. You hate submitting like this, but if it delays having to fuck someone again, even for just a moment, you’ll do it.

“Well, what are you waiting for?” Wriggle taps her feet.

You plant your hands against the seat and lower yourself to a kneel. With how close she’d been sitting, you’re already between her feet.

“Good girl.” Wriggle pops the strap off one shoe, then the other. She slides the first to your face. “Take it off for me, would you?”

She’s kidding, right? She’s the one that locked your hands behind you. What does she expect you to…

No. She’s not expecting you to do that, is she? You look up at her, praying that you’re wrong.

She lets out a dramatic sigh. “With your teeth, dumbass.”

Of course. Returning to her feet, you bite down on the front of her shoe. Her foot slips out, and you drop the shoe on your lap. She offers her other shoe. You move to bite that one as well, but she pulls away. You look to her, but she just smiles back. You lean forward, and she pulls her foot back against her crotch. You lean further, finally closing your teeth around it. Using that foot, she pushes your head back, before finally retracting her foot from the shoe. You throw that shoe to the side. All that’s left between you and your inevitable, repulsive job is a pair of short, white socks.

“Good girl.” She says, wearing that condescending smirk. “Now, how about you help me with these?” She prods her foot against your lips.

They smell like sweat and, well, used socks. You wrinkle your nose, but part your lips wide open, hoping to keep all but your teeth away from the wool. You bite into the edge, pinching the sock between your teeth and pulling away. It slides across, and then off her foot. You drop it to your lap the split-second her toes pop free. Wriggle presents the other sock, rubbing it across your lips. The aroma of used sock fills your nose. You bite down and rip it off, swallowing a taste of her sweat to end it early. You spit it to the side.

“So far, so good. Maybe I won’t have to bully you so much, after all. Now, about your promise.”

Wriggle presents you with her bare foot. For a moment, you stare. Her toes flex in anticipation. The smell nearly smothers you. You need to lick that thing, to run your tongue along her foul feet. Her gaze hardens. Up to now, you’ve managed to get her in a relatively good mood, and you need to start soon if you want to keep her that way.

You press your lips to the big toe. You look back up to her smug face. You slide your tongue along the tips. You have no idea how to do any of this. Sex, at least, is something you understood, conceptually, before your first time.

Your first rape.

There’s a taste of dirt and sweat. You angle your head up to slide your tongue over the top of her foot, avoiding the worst of it. Wriggle angles her foot down, allowing you to slide up from the toes to the ankle, and back down. It feels like you’re tilling the ground, trailing each lick along fresh skin. As unpleasant as it is, it’s somehow a step up from what’s become the norm of your life. You wish you could just lick someone’s feet all day.

Just as you reach the end of her foot, she swipes it away and pushes her other foot to your lips. You repeat the process. Back up and down the dirty skin of your captor’s bare foot. Soon you’ve licked the tops of both feet clean.

Then she angles her foot up. She doesn’t push it toward you or rub it against you. She just lets it sit there. She knows what you’re going to do. She knows what you must do. Forcing down disgust and frustration, you lean forward, planting a kiss against the ball of her foot. The smell almost does you in before you force your tongue out. It tastes… quite a bit worse. For a moment, the scent and taste of Wriggle’s sweat, mixed with some dirt, overpowers you. You pull back, hacking out your disgust.

Then her leg slips over your shoulder, and she presses her foot against your face. Her toes block out your sight, as her heel squashes your lips. All you can do is sit there. Naked, save for the chastity belt. Kneeling, hands bound behind you, inhaling nothing but the scent of Wriggle’s sweaty foot.

She pulls her foot back, slightly. “I believe you still have some work to do. Right, Naoko?”

Grimacing, you stick out your tongue and force yourself forward. You drag it down from her pad to her sole. It’s foul, but you force your tongue all the way to the heel. You drag it back up, fighting the urge to gag. Even after several long licks, as you coat her foot in your own saliva, the smell lingers. Muted, but very present. Struggling, you flick your tongue across the top edge of her pad, grazing her toes.

Wriggle pulls the wet foot back and plants it on one of your bare breasts, pushing you back as she slides her leg off your shoulder. Setting the wet foot on your lap, she presses the underside of her other foot to your lips. More sweat and dirt greet your tongue, but you fight your way through. Eventually, with a flick, you finish off that foot as well.

Wriggle pulls that foot back, and sets each foot on one of your breasts, pushing you backward. You’re forced to plant your bound hands to the floor, but you don’t fall.

“Did… did I do good?”

“Hmm…” Wriggle strokes her chin like there’s a beard there. “You did okay. But I still have one little thing for you to do.” She extends a foot forward. “Open up~”

She slides her big toe past your lips, followed by its neighbor. The foul taste that tormented your tongue now fills your mouth.

“Make sure to get between them, okay?”

Wincing, you slide your tongue between Wriggle’s toes, as she slides them through your mouth.

“Oh! I just forgot. How silly of me.” A click. The toy roars back to life between your legs, pounding and thrashing against your flesh. Your tongue falls limp as your body quakes. That body, denied ever since the library, screams for release.

A foot taps your gut. “Keep licking, girlfriend.”

Struggling to focus as your muscles rattle, you drag your tongue back inside and just manage to squeeze it between her two smaller toes, as the toy dies back down. Your tongue droops past your lips, as Wriggle pulls her toes free of your mouth.

You sag forward, sweating and worn out from the endless stream of teasing that Wriggle has put you through. A pair of toes lifts your chin up.

“C’mon, you’re almost there~”

Wriggle raises her other foot to your lips. You open up for her, as she slides her toes inside. You’re too weary to care about how disgusting it tastes, as you slip your tongue between her smallest toes. Exhausted, you drag it between each pair, picking up who-knows-what on your way to the big toe.

Finally, you manage to haul your tongue across the side of the last toe, as Wriggle drops her other leg back over your shoulder. You look to her, confused. She pushes her foot further past your lips, jamming three of her toes inside and tapping the base of your tongue with the big one. Revolted, you try to pull back, only for her leg to hold you firm.

“C’mon, give it a good suck, would you? Then we’ll be done, I promise.”

Relenting, you do as she says. You’ve already licked off most of the sweat and grime, so it doesn’t taste much worse. Then the vibrations start again. Once more, your body warms up fast. Small shakes and tremors return, but the toy sticks to a low hum, allowing you to continue squeezing against her toes.

After a moment, Wriggle pops her foot free of your lips, before she rubs it across your face.

“Good girl. Maybe we can get along after all, huh?”

“Will you leave me alone?”

Wriggle gives you a flat look, pressing her foot to the side of your head. “Very funny. But,” She retracts her leg and sets both feet down. “I guess I shouldn’t leave you in suspense anymore.”

“…About what?”

A devilish grin splits Wriggle’s face, as she hops off the chair and rummages through a nearby cupboard. She pulls out a polished bronze disk. She settles back into her chair and presents it to you.

It’s a mirror. You see the image of a young woman naked, kneeling and bowed. You. There are scribbles on your forehead and lower belly, but it takes a moment to decode them. Reversed by the mirror, the writing on your forehead spells out ‘bitch.’ Scrawled just above your belt is ‘property of Wriggle and Mystia,’ with an arrow pointing downward.

“See, it’s not too bad, is it?” Wriggle strokes your belly with her foot. “I mean, I could have called you so many, much meaner things. Instead I just wrote that you’re slightly mean.” She pinches your nose between two toes and drags your face close to her crotch. “Now, neither of us have cum yet, so you’re still wearing that belt for a while, but maybe you can get ol’ Mystia taken care of soon.”

“…What do you mean?”

Wriggle lets go. “I’ve got some business to take care of. So I…”

There’s a knock on the door.

“Just a second.” Wriggle stands up, hauling you up after her. “C’mon, this way.” She pushes you back toward the bedroom. She throws the door open and pushes you inside, closing it behind you. After a moment, there’s a click, and the door locks. You slump against it, squirming at the toy whirring away inside you.

You hear what you assume to be the front door opening, and an unfamiliar voice engaging with Wriggle. This… this could be your ticket out of here. If this woman is powerful enough, and cares enough to take you away. Of course, even if she does, she’ll likely try to force herself on you instead. And if she doesn’t get you out, you’ll blow all favor you’ve managed to earn with Wriggle and Mystia.

…It’s probably better just to play along, for now. But then there’s the question of the belt. So long as you wear it, neither of your captors will touch your pussy or ass. Probably. But at the same time, that sex toy will stay lodged inside you for Wriggle to tease you with.

You look to the bed, where Mystia sleeps, splayed out only halfway under the covers, likely due to the rising summer heat. Of course, even waking her up from that, you doubt it would take any effort to ‘seduce’ her. But you just doused Wriggle’s feet in your own spit for the sole purpose of delaying this kind of thing. Is now really the time to start fucking someone for a favor?

Or you could try telling her about your aura. She’ll probably be hurt, but she’s likely not as eager for an excuse to punish you as Wriggle seems to be.

What do you do?

--------------------

[X] Seduce Mystia. You need to get Wriggle’s toy out of you.

[X] Tell Mystia the truth. Maybe you can avoid Wriggle’s punishment this way.

[X] Wait. You’ve avoided sex so far, and you’re not about to start now.

[X] Scream. Better to gamble and lose, then miss what might be your only chance.

[X] Write-in

--------------------

Due to the delay in getting this update out, the voting period will again extend until about 19:00 on Wednesday.

[X] Tell Mystia the truth. Maybe you can avoid Wriggle’s punishment this way.

You can’t count on whoever’s on the other side to help you. Even if you get through the door, it’s bound to piss Wriggle off. If you want to hold off sex in any meaningful way, you need to try what you’ve never quite done before. You gulp and turn to Mystia. Sunlight shines across her wings and breasts, only half-covered by the sheets. Her arms splay out across her wings, as her chest rises and falls in a steady, quiet rhythm. You step toward her. It would be nice to just go sit in a corner and wait for nightfall, maybe fall asleep there. You almost drool at the thought of hours upon hours of not getting fucked or molested.

Then you suffer a short spasm, reminding you of the thing still whirring away inside you. Besides, so long as you remain trapped in this house, it’s all certain to be nothing more than idle fantasy. Your hands remain locked behind your back, and that damn belt still rubs against your bare flesh.

Warm, sticky fluid slips down your leg and drips onto the wooden floor. The voices in the other room grow heated as you glance over Mystia’s sleeping form.

If you want any hope of easing your stay here, you need to make yourself less desirable. You must convince one of them of the truth. You lean down to push your face against Mystia’s arm. But she barely stirs. You drop your face into the sheets and shove against her arm. Her arm shifts, but she remains still.

Then she rolls over, her other arm falling across your neck and pulling in, pushing your head against her bare chest. She physically drags your body partly into bed as she presses your face to her chest. Your face is trapped in a tight, wet, and warm space as her breast brushes against your cheek. Yet the gentle rhythm of her breathing remains perfectly steady.

“Uh… hey, Mystia?” you whisper. No response.

“Hello? Wake up please…” you raise your voice incrementally. Even as the weight of her body presses against you, the last thing you want to do is piss her off before you have a chance to talk. “Please, wake up. I need to tell you something.”

There’s a few soft, incoherent mumbles, but nothing more.

You don’t know how long Wriggle will be distracted, or what she’ll do when she’s done. You need to get this conversation started now.

So, you do the only thing you can think of. You open your mouth, strain forward, and bite into her breast.

Mystia yelps and spins to her other side, knocking your teeth back and dragging you with her. Her eyes flutter open, weakly, as your body slumps into the sheets, next to her.

She gives you an almost angelic smile, wrapping her legs around one of yours. She drapes a wing over your body.

“Hey, Naoko. You need something?”

“Yes, I… there’s something you need to know.” Best ease into this.

She pulls you back. “Well then, go ahead.”

“It’s, well. I think something’s sort of, uh, you’re being tricked. Manipulated, into…” Her legs rustle against yours. “I have this… aura, I think. It, well…”

You clear your throat. Focus.

“You and Wriggle weren’t the only ones who wanted to, to be with me.” You can’t quite bring yourself to say the R-word. Not to her face, at least. “There were a lot of… people, chasing me down.” Mystia’s brow furrows. “It’s…”

“Every youkai I meet wants the same thing you and Wriggle want. They all want to be with me. To play with me.”

Mystia’s gaze softens in sympathy.

“If it wasn’t for that aura, we’d never have met. You wouldn’t even know I existed.” Well, probably. Hopefully.

Mystia leans in to plant a light kiss against your lips. “I guess I should be thanking it then, huh?”

Is she even listening? You don’t want to irritate her, but you need to press her on this, “Mystia, do you think every youkai near my farm just happened to decide they all wanted me? That all of them just happened to decide on the same farm girl, at the same time, for the same reasons?”

“Hm?” she gives you a blank stare.

“You… you don’t really love me, y-”

Her eyes narrow. “Excuse me, what?”

The toy still whirrs inside you, and Mystia’s flesh still presses against you. “I’m still shackled, Mystia-”

“Handcuffed.”

“Whatever. I don’t even know what happened to my clothes, and you’ve barely even protected me from Wriggle. You don’t love me. You just want me for your own pleasure. And-”

“No. You’re wrong, Naoko. I-”

“It’s fine. You don’t have to love me. I really don’t even…” Wait, you don’t want to admit to your deception yet. Not until you have the aura thing out of way. “Anyway, your feelings aren’t really, well, real. It’s just my au-”

“Then turn it off.”

“What?” Your legs squirm against hers, still agitated by that buzzing toy.

Mystia pouts and pulls you tight against her. “If my feelings aren’t real, if it’s just something you’re doing to me, then surely you can turn it off, right?”

“If I could, I would have last summer.”

Mystia rubs your back. “No helping it, I guess. If my feelings are so fake, I guess I should just give up now and leave you with Wriggle.”

“What?” No. She’s just joking, right?

“No, no. You’re right. Clearly my feelings are too fake, so I should leave you with the girl who doesn’t care where hers come from.”

“I… can we talk about this?” This is almost the last direction you wanted this conversation to take.

Mystia pulls you into a tight hug, squishing your face against her breasts. “The thing is, I can’t help how I feel about you. Maybe it’s not love, but it certainly feels like it. And besides, being here with you feels so much better than without you. So,” she pulls back, and her eyes flatten, “you can be with me, or alone with Wriggle, which do you really want?”

“I, I don’t…” Something’s wrong. It smells fishy. It-

She strokes your cheek, face settling into a glare. “Naoko. You don’t… You don’t really love me, do you?”

And there it is. As inevitable as this was, you’d hoped that maybe you could sidestep it somehow. Still, you need to find a way to ease her desire.

“Really, Mystia. The only reason you want me i-”

She wraps a hand around your head and plants her lips against yours. She pulls back. “Naoko. Do you love me. Yes or no?”

You swallow hard. She’s not Wriggle. She probably won’t hurt you for looking at her weird. Your wrist-cuffs clink. Your heavy tongue lifts as you part dry lips.

“I… I’m sorry, Mystia. I don’t.” For a split-second, her eyes fly wide open. Her expression then turns black. “Listen, when Wr-”

Mystia buries her face in your chest. She wraps her arms around your back and lets out a muffled screech. She pulls back, glaring at you.

“So it’s true. You lied to me back at that farm, and you lied to me here.”

“I’m sorry, really. But y-”

“No, no. It’s fine. Just fine.” She sighs, planting a hand against your breast. “You don’t want to touch me, right?” A hand slides down your back and squeezes your ass. “You don’t like me doing this, do you?”

“I…” As uncomfortable as her wandering hands are, there’s something in her tone that bothers you more. No point to lying now, though. “Please don’t. I just w-”

She kneads the base of your breast. She lets out something between a sigh and a groan. “Looks like Wriggle had the right idea all along. You need those handcuffs on your wrists. If we didn’t chain you up, you’d already be gone, huh?” She pulls you close. Her breasts press against yours, as her wings envelop you. “You’d leave us lonely and frustrated, wouldn’t you?”

“…What?”

“It’s been a year, Naoko. Do you really think these things will just go away?”

“I, guess not?”

“And rather than try to help, you’d abandon us to it? Curse us to live all our days as slaves to desire, unable even to experience even the simple joy of your company?”

“I, I’m sorry. I just want to be left alone. Is that really so much to ask?”

Mystia groans.

“It… it’s not like I can’t understand, you know.” She leans in to plant a kiss on your forehead. “I’m sure it must have been difficult, hiding all the time. So…” She flicks your nipple. “I guess I’m willing to offer a compromise, if you’ll hear it.”

“…What is it?” She’s not completely pissed off, right?

“I still can’t bear to be without you, so…” She gives your ass a light squeeze. “We’re still getting married, but you don’t have to pretend to love me, at least when we’re alone, okay?”

You let out a defeated sigh. “Do I have a choice?”

“Of course you do. There’s always Wriggle.” A shiver runs down your spine. A sly smile creeps across her face. “For such a pain in the neck, she can be just so convenient. So, you don’t want to go back to her, right? Without my protection?”

Slowly, you nod your head.

“Good.” Mystia nuzzles your cheek. “But…” she pulls back, “we do still have to handle your little fib. And if Wriggle won’t punish you, I guess I have to.” She sits up and swings a leg over your body. “So, we can do this one of two ways.” She hops off the bed and moves to the closet. She rummages through it, pulls out a pair of objects, then turns back to you. She hops back to the bed, holding a white puff-ball attached to a series of beads in one hand, and a headband with a pair of white rabbit ears in the other.

“If you hate my touch so much, I guess you just have to make good on your original promise and be my cute little bunny. Or we tell Wriggle.”

“…Do I just wear the ears?”

“Hm…” Mystia eyes the headband. She looks back to you. “No. I think I’ll have you hop around too, and good pets don’t say mean things like how they don’t love their masters, so I’ll also need to get the gag back out.”

“Are there any other options…” You trail off, catching a glimpse of very pale, green hair whip through the closet.

“Unless you’d rather fuck me, right now, no. Or you can come up with a better punishment, I guess. But if I don’t like your offer, I’m leaving it all up to Wriggle.”

Mystia hesitates, then offers an apologetic smile. “If you choose to stick with me, I promise I’ll at least try not to force you into anything explicitly sexual. I can’t control Wriggle, though.”

--------------------

[X] Take the ears. It’s still not sex.

[X] Refuse. Cooperation’s getting you nowhere.

[X] Check the Closet. You’re not ready to make your decision just yet.

[X] Write-in.

[X] Check the Closet. You’re not ready to make your decision just yet.

“Can I look in your closet first?” You can’t quite meet her eyes.

Mystia frowns at you.

“Just, just for a second! I’ll take whatever punishment you want. I just want to, you know, see what options I have.” She gives you a flat look. “I-I mean, what if we find something you’ll like more?”

Mystia narrows her eyes. “Fine.” She sets the ears and puffball near you. “C’mon then. Follow me.”

Hesitantly, you push off the bed and follow behind her. Your hips jerk as the still vibrating toy pulses once, before settling back into that endless, insufferable rhythm.

“C’mon, c’mon.” Mystia slides an arm around your hip as she wraps a wing around you. She pulls you close to her side, rubbing her hand up and down the side of your ass.

“Could you maybe, not touch…”

“Shh. You don’t want to fuck me, right?”

You nod.

“Well, I’m trying to hold myself back here, but you need to give me something to work with, okay?”

You look away, allowing her to fondle your ass as she pulls the closet door completely open. There’s a series of dresses hanging from a rack, and a pile of assorted things beneath them. The first for you to recognize being at least three more sets of shackles, or handcuffs as Mystia called them.

There’s a very short roll of some shiny, gray fabric. A short black sash of some kind. A paddle, a whip, a coil of rope, a leather leash, and a black box.

Half the outfits and dresses on the rack are familiar or common enough, but some are just strange. There’s a very lacy, sleeveless white dress, with a tight midsection, but a see-through skirt and similarly transparent chest, which tapers up to a white collar. There are a few more dresses and outfits with holes or transparent fabric over the breasts, tiny skirts, or slits in strange places.

“What’s in the box?”

“Eh he he. Just a little jewelry we scrounged together.”

Mystia folds her wings against her back as she kneels down to pop the box open. She pulls out a pair of silver earrings with a weird chain between them. “These go on your nipples…”

“My what?” Okay, not earrings, exactly.

“Here, let me show you.” Mystia leans over you.

“No, no. I’m good.” You back away, falling on your ass and scooting back toward the bed. She soon stops, and so do you.

“Well, if you insist…” Mystia goes back to rooting though the box.

You settle down, stretching out your legs and planting your hands underneath you. You’ve no doubt Mystia will find something horrible in there to force you into, but so what? You can’t run, fight, or even meaningfully resist her. There’s just no point. She’s going to force you into something humiliating, she’ll force you to go on some ‘date’ with her, and she’ll no doubt rape you eventually.

This isn’t a question of if she’ll violate you, and maybe it never was. Perhaps they had sealed your fate the moment they saw you. Maybe you should have just stuck with Kogasa. Let her do whatever weird stuff she wanted with your ass; at least she never forced you to touch or taste hers. Idly, you tug at your handcuffs. You’re shaking, a bit, as your fluid drips from the belt to the cool wood beneath your ass.

Maybe you never had a chance to escape this. Maybe you were destined to be Mystia and Wriggle’s bitch the moment they laid eyes on you. Your family had performed admirably, but it now seems like the entirety of their accomplishment was in delaying the inevitable. If only you could go back to the time before that horrible summer.

If you could just return to living on that farm, busting your ass during the day, then goofing off at night. Before that summer. That goddamn summer. Those fucking monsters. Th…

“You think this would look good on you?”

Mystia holds up a cutesy, pink apron.

“What would I wear it with?”

Mystia lets out a soft, longsuffering sigh. “You just don’t get it. You’d wear only it. Nothing else. That’s the point.” She shuffles through the rack some more. “Maybe I should get something more exciting.”

If Ayame was still here, maybe she could’ve saved you. If she saw you like this, surely, she’d at least have tried. No one in your family was exactly a Reimu Hakurei or a Keine Kamishirasawa, but they were used to fighting off youkai. A skill that, despite your efforts, you never quite got a hold of.

“I guess we could do a maid thing, maybe? Or, hm…”

You lean back, closing your eyes. Of course, trying to explain this to your family would get weird fast. ‘Oh hi, mom. Hey, Ayame. Do you guys know it how felt to be molested by what seemed like you?’ Well, Nue didn’t molest you, exactly. Hell, she didn’t even force you into that ‘date.’ Still, if you went back, it’d probably be best to avoid those topics the first few weeks…

Mystia’s voice, along with the sound of her shuffling through jewelry, fades out. Confused, you open your eyes back up. Vague, muddy colors swirl around you, until they converge into a whole lot of red.

--------------------

Books. There are tall, imposing bookshelves everywhere. Balconies stretch above you, containing even more of these books. A soft, red carpet rests beneath you.

“Good morning, Ms. Honda.” A shockingly familiar voice calls. Thin, tired, and raspy, like that one book you talked with. A woman sits before you, slouching behind a desk. Long, violet hair droops from her pale hat past her shoulders and down her back. She wears what appears to be a lavender set of warm nightclothes.

“Please tell me, young lady, just what it is you’re doing on my arcane payroll.”

“Your what?”

She lets out half of an exasperated sigh, before it degenerates into a dry cough.

“I have a project of utmost importance underway at this very moment, and therefore no time for games.” She sets her hands down on the table. “I have enough of my power drained by my current servant and I cannot afford a second waste, especially for one who offers nothing in return. So, precisely how have you managed to accomplish this feat, and what would it take to remove you from my command?”

“I… what are your talking about?” At this moment, it strikes you that you’re not sitting or standing in the room you see. In fact, it’s as if you’re not even physically present.

She rubs her temples. “Do you know what a familiar is?”

That term sounds weirdly, well, familiar. “I’m not entirely sure. Was it some kind of servant?”

“I suppose I’ll have to start from the beginning then. Like magicians, familiars come in both natural and occupational forms. Since you have not spawned from the maelstrom of my energies, you are an occupational familiar. The function of a familiar is to perform arcane tasks while her mistress is otherwise occupied. Now, please, both my time and my power are precious; would it be so terrible to tell me how and why you’re draining it?”

She glares. You wince. This, this is your arcane mistress, then?

“I needed help. I was…” You take a moment to think. “Under attack. A book had possessed someone and used her to assault myself and my, uh, friend.” In retrospect, your relationship with Shizuha is a little weird. “A different book promised to help me if I signed a pact. I didn’t have any other choice.”

She somehow leans back further. “That’s it?”

“That’s it.”

She leans forward. “So you signed a pact with a book and somehow, that attached you to me?”

“I guess? Kosuzu said it was a familiar pact, and I never signed any others.”

“Hm…” She returns to slouching. “What sort of book was this?”

“I don’t know. But it was purple and it sounded just like you.”

She puts her finger to her chin. “Then, perhaps it is… No, it must be that book.” She focuses on you. “I take it you know of no way to revoke the contract yourself, correct?”

“No, but I think it’s only supposed to last a week.”

The woman waves her hand dismissively. “Still too long. But I may yet get something in return for my trouble. Bring me that book, and perhaps we can work something out. You have three days.”

“…How do I get it to you?”

“Do you not know who I am?”

“I, no, not really.”

The woman coughs again, quietly.

“Then simply bring that book to the Scarlet Devil Mansion and ask for a Ms. Patchouli Knowledge.” She sighs. “That’s me, by the way. My name.”

“The… Scarlet Devil Mansion?” You hesitate. This woman is likely the source of that power that broke you free of the book’s bindings. Learning from her could save your ass. But to willingly surround yourself with youkai? “Is there any other way to…?”

“No.” She flicks a finger, and everything swirls into confusion again. After a moment of muddy colors, daylight once more pours down upon you.

--------------------

A soft pair of lips press against your own. Mystia pulls back, outstretched wings folding in as her ample breasts squeeze between her arms. She fidgets, possibly seeking what to say. Now that things have moved around a bit, you catch a glimpse of a tall mirror against one wall. You slump at the reminder of ‘bitch’ written on your forehead, and the property markings on your lower belly. You glance to the rack, still confused by the white, see-through dress.

“So, what is that dress for?”

Mystia looks at it. “That? Oh, that’s your wedding dress.”

“…What does it go on top of?”

“On top of?”

“Yeah, I mean, how do I cover my, you know, my privates?”

“Hm? Oh, you mean like your breasts? You don’t, silly. I can’t have you hiding something so valuable from me at such an important moment, you know?”

“…What?”

“Besides, it’s the skirt that’s really important. Anyway.” Mystia waves her hand. “I think I’ve got another idea, if you don’t want to be my pet.”

“You can wear this,” she pulls the apron out, “and these.” She pulls out a pair of oddly angled black shoes. “They’ll take some getting used to, but you can be my pretty little maid.” She closes her eyes in thought. “But you know, I’m not quite sure how I should gag you.” She opens them back up. “Oh well, I guess I’ll just say that if you ever say anything that’s not a direct response to a question or command, or something I just don’t like, I’ll let Wriggle do whatever she wants.”

She puts the apron and shoes down, before she flashes you another apologetic smile. “I couldn’t really come up with anything else, though. Sorry.”

You glance through the closet. “Can I just wear-” a gasp breaks past your lips, knocked loose by that toy, “my, my old kimono?”

Mystia giggles. “Of course not, silly. I need some eye candy.”

“Some underwear, maybe?”

“Hm…” Mystia tilts her head to the side. “I guess we could do that. I’d still have to gag you though. And throw in a blindfold, I think.”

You slump; no matter what, she’s not letting you speak freely.

“Oh, don’t get like that. Once you’re behaving better, I’ll be happy to take it off.” She goes back to the box, then turns around. “Oh, and that also applies for the other punishments.”

You’re about to speak, when something catches your eye. The mirror’s slightly askew, and you could swear you saw something move behind it. Yet there’s no space for anything to be there. Then it’s gone. Something funny’s going on, and a small part of you dares to hope you just might have a way out.

On the other hand, if there is anything there worth checking, any attempt to use it would no doubt anger your captors. If you want to play it safe, you’ll have to just accept a punishment. Taking the ‘maid’ role gives you a chance to speak, but a single verbal misstep could land you right back under Wriggle’s full power. The other two roles are safer, but one sounds like it still leaves you completely naked, and may even hobble you, while the other straight-up blinds you, even if it does allow you to cover up a little.

You squirm, shifting your weight across the wet wood. “Then, I guess I’ll take…”

--------------------

[X] The apron. Your voice is probably the only hope you have left.

[X] The ears. You’re not about to gamble what little protection you have.

[X] The underwear. You’ll take some blindness to cover up a bit.

[X] The mirror. Hope is just about the only thing you have left.

[X] The apron. Your voice is probably the only hope you have left.

“…The apron.” As much as you’d like to imagine that some safe haven lies behind that mirror, any attempt to reach it will almost certainly just piss Mystia off again. She’s already threatening to take your voice away, and you really don’t want to find out what she’ll take if you push her any further. Best to just accept what leaves you with the most freedom.

“Okey-dokey. Just stand up, please.”

You fold your legs underneath you and push up, your balance threatened by weary thighs.

Mystia lifts the apron’s top loop over your head to let it fall around your neck. The apron descends across your front, mercifully concealing most of your breasts and crotch, as its frills brush against your sides.

“Lift your hands, please.”

Embarrassed, but relieved to finally wear something, you lean forward, angling your hands as high as your cuffs allow.

“Your butt is sooo cute. I just want to hug it.” Mystia slides her hand across your ass, giving it a soft squeeze. Your body quakes, whether in revulsion or frustration, you can’t tell. She lifts her hand back off you. “Oh, uh, don't worry. I know you're not ready for that kind of stuff yet.”

Mystia pulls the loose strands around your waist, tying them together in what you think is a bow. You let your hands fall back against your bare ass.

“Okay, socks next.” Mystia returns to the closet and pulls out a pair of short but frilly pink socks. You lift your feet, one at a time, for her to slip them on.

“There, now you just need your shoes.” Mystia pulls out the black shoes, sets them in front of your feet, and pops the latches off. “Step in, please.”

Now confronted with them directly, a pit forms in your stomach. You’ve never worn tilted shoes before, much less ones so… extreme. Can you even walk in those?

“What… are those?”

“These? high heels, silly.”

Well, now you have their name, at least. With a light gulp, you slide your foot in one. It comes to rest at a steep angle. How are you going to walk in these things? Mystia clips the shoe shut, and you try to lift your other foot. Your body wobbles and your weight tips backward, but Mystia wraps her arms and wings around your back, then pulls you upright.

She takes a deep whiff of your apron.

Resting against her, you slip your foot in the other shoe. Slowly, Mystia lets go, folding her wings back in. You falter but hold your balance long enough for Mystia to clip that shoe shut as well. Mystia takes a few steps back toward the bed. “C’mon, this way.”

You take a step forward, swaying. Another step. By the third, you’re teetering. You take a moment to regain your balance, then take another step. Your ankle twists and sends you plummeting. Mystia rushes toward you just in time for your face to crash into her generous breasts. She rights you, then moves to stand beside you.

“Here, let me help.” She places a hand on each hip and guides you toward the bed. You almost tumble forward, but she pulls you back. She guides you around it, and slowly, your steps grow steadier. Once you’re standing between the bed and the main room, she sits down. She pats the bed next to her. You settle down next to her, and she wraps her wing around your back.

There’s still a slight trickle, moistening the bed with your unwanted lust. Your face burns at the realization, though you’re certain your captor won’t mind.

“See, that wasn’t so bad, right?”

“I… can learn to live with it, I guess.”

Mystia fidgets. “Hey, can you try calling me ‘mistress?’”

“Mistress?”

“No, no. With my name.”

“Mistress Mystia?”

Mystia smiles, then wraps her arms around your neck presses her lips against yours. Her tongue pushes through, almost choking you as she rams it in. She takes a moment to rest it atop yours a-

There’s a click, just before the door slams open and Mystia pulls back, yanking her tongue and wing back with her. Her spit trickles down your chin. Wriggle stands before you, glaring over her shoulder.

“Pain-in-the-ass preacher stopped by. Harvest goddess looking for new followers, or something. Barely managed to- why is Mystia awake?”

“Oh, Wriggle, good timing.” Mystia lets out a dramatic yawn. “You’re right. I gotta go back to sleep, so you can look after her now.” She rubs your side. “We made a little deal. She doesn’t get to speak unless spoken to, and she can’t say anything that’s not a direct response to a question or command. She also has to address us as either master or mistress.”

You look back at her, preparing to object. You open your mouth, only for her to place a finger against it. “If she breaks any of these rules, you get to do whatever you want.”

An almost lecherous smirk climbs up Wriggle’s face. She steps forward. “Is that all?”

“That’s all.” Mystia slides back into bed. “Nighty night.”

Sunlight’s still pouring in through the window. Judging by the angle, it’s about midmorning.

“Goodnight, Mystia.” Wriggle turns to you. “This way, Naoko.”

You glance back to Mystia. She nods.

Sweating, you stand up and take a shaky step forward. Wriggle plants a hand against your hip and nudges you to the door. You step through, just in time for her hand to pull back and crash against your ass, propelling you forward. You soon slip, but Wriggle catches you by the wrists and pulls you back. With a click, she unlocks a cuff and glides your free hand in front of you. Pulling the other hand to your front, she snaps your cuff back on.

She steps in front of you and pulls out that pink block again. She slides something from one end to the other and pushes a button. The toy bursts back to life.

After ages of near-constant strain, your thighs all but collapse on the spot. Before you fall, Wriggle catches you and hauls you back up. She leans in close.

“How about you fetch me a cup of water?”

“…Fine.”

Wriggle cocks an eyebrow and a lopsided grin. You realize your mistake just as she opens her mouth.

“Yes, mistress.”

She shuts her mouth, her grin smaller and softer, but still quite visible. You turn toward the table, wobbling, but not falling. A steady stream of your personal fluids trickles down your leg, staining the floor behind you. It irritates you that she all but entirely controls your need and desire, but it humiliates and infuriates you that she’s also free to force such secretions out of you.

“You know, I could watch that ass all day…”

You bite back a curse at her. Relax, just relax. Stop fighting. Stop wasting your captors’ patience. Stop giving them reasons to bind or hurt you. You reach the table, finding it largely empty. Behind, however, there’s a short counter against the wall with a few clay cups and a couple bottles. Stumbling over to it, scooting your bound hands across the table for balance, you find one bottle to be sake, while the other is unlabeled, containing a similarly clear fluid. Popping the cork, you take a whiff. No identifiable odors, so you’ll just assume it’s water.

For a moment you hesitate, fearing this may be some trick on Wriggle’s part. But a quick glance reveals no other obvious sources, and the heels have crippled your mobility. Seeing no real alternatives, you pour its contents into one of the cups. Once the cup’s mostly full, you pick it up and turn back to Wriggle. You take slow and measured steps toward her, hoping to keep your quaking thighs from breaking your already waning balance. Miraculously, you reach her without having spilled more than a few drops.

Wriggle takes the cup from you and sips at it. “Not bad, now how’d you feel about serving as my footstool this morning?”

You shake your head, too nervous to openly deny her.

She smiles. “That’s what I thought. So, how about you sweep the floor for me, so I don’t give you another intimate moment with my feet?”

“…Yes, Mistress.”

You look around, and find a broom resting against the wall by the outside door. You sway and stagger forward, almost tripping on your heels. But you reach the wall, planting your cuffed hands against it for balance. You take in a heavy breath. You can see the shape of your nipples through the apron. Quivering, you grip the broom and push it against the floor. Your thighs clench as the toy dies down again.

Half-using the broom as a walking stick, you push some dust under the door, before moving out from it. You start working on one corner, between the door and the table. You spend a few minutes in uninterrupted, peaceful labor. It’s almost blissful, just performing a simple chore without the incessant buzzing inside your pussy.

Your feet twist in their heels, but the broom keeps you steady. Then, just as you’re about to finish the space between the table and the door, the toy flares back up, beating against you and breaking your focus. You collapse into the shaky support of your broom.

“Hey, how about over here?”

You veer toward Wriggle, stumbling but pulling yourself up. Slowing down, you return to measured steps, recovering some balance. As you step next to her, she slides a finger up your leg. You stop to let her, but shiver as it picks up the sticky residue of your arousal. She pops the finger in her mouth and appears to savor your taste.

“Hey, how about you take a little break? Just a quick little rest on your girlfriend’s lap?”

“I’d really rather…”

“My lap. Now.”

Suppressing a scream, you stumble toward the table to set the broom against it. With a more careful gait, you return to Wriggle wearing a forced smile.

“How, how do you want me to sit?”

“Facing me.”

“Of, of course.” You place your hands on Wriggle’s lap as you slip one leg through the chair’s arm, then the other. You sit down, your weight resting against her knees. Wriggle fondles your ass, kneading it as she stares into your eyes. “Give me a kiss, will you?”

Shutting your eyes tight, you lean forward, puckering your lips. Wrapping her hand in your hair, she pulls you in, but merely plants a soft kiss against your lips, sparing you her tongue. The vibrator dies back down. Your mounting frustration strangles what little relief you’d otherwise have felt.

She pulls back.

Wriggle slips her hands under your apron to squeeze your breasts.

“Bet you’re getting real tired of that belt, huh?”

You bite your lip. “No, I’m fine. No, no problem. Really.” You’re panting, sweating, and moistening her legs as you speak.

A click. For one violent pulse, the toy pounds your flesh, tearing a squeal out of you. Wriggle gives you a knowing smirk. “Are you sure you couldn’t go for just a little bit of relief?”

“I’m, I’m fine. I, huh, I’m just a bit, winded.”

One hand tightens its grip, slowly squeezing and twisting. “Do you really think you should be lying to me right now?”

You look away, as her nails dig into your flesh. Your breast burns in her constricting grip.

“I… Fine. I, might, I guess, prefer to be, uh, free of it.” A strand of drool slips free of your lips.

Wriggle lets go. “There, that wasn’t so hard, right?” She gives both breasts a short squeeze, then lets go. “You can get off now.”

“Oh, uh, okay.” Planting your hands against her lap again, you slide your legs back out, soon standing before her.

“Kneel.”

Confused, you lower yourself down, until you’re resting on your shins. Wriggle steps up and stands in front of you. She pulls your head toward her crotch, all but rubbing you against her shorts.

“You remember the arrangement, right?”

“But, but I proved myself, didn’t I? So I wouldn’t have to…”

Wriggle angles your head back. “Don’t worry, I won’t force you into anything. But like I said, I’ve got some business to attend to, and…” She gives you an almost cruel smirk. With a flick of that box, her toy beats another violent pulse against your flesh. Your hips jerk as it rips a strangled moan out of you. “…Well, I’m just trying to help, is all.”

She lets out an almost compassionate sigh. “I just want to do my part to help free you from that horrible belt.” Her caring frown falters. “But… I’ve already offered you my pussy once. So…” She turns around, still gripping your scalp. Your nose grazes the seat of her shorts. “If you want to do this the simple way, you’ll be licking my ass.” She lets go, turning back around to face you. You pull your head back, looking up her shirt and her small, but visible breasts, to her glinting eyes. “If you really don’t like that idea, then I guess I could lend you my pussy, but only if you let me put something of my own on you. I’m thinking… how about a leash? A nice collar I can wrap around your pretty little neck and attach to, oh I dunno, maybe Mystia’s bed? This chair? Maybe just wherever I feel like.”

She guides you back up. “So, what do you say?”

Your lip quivers. She’s been playing with your pussy almost nonstop since you awoke. As much as the idea disgusts you, it might just be worth it to pleasure her so that you’re one step closer to finally freeing yourself from her depraved toy. If you do, the obvious choice would be to eat her ass to protect what little autonomy you have left. But could you do that? You barely made it through her torment on the bed and fared little better with her feet. Maybe it’s better to just refuse her, unless…

She never gave you a chance to bargain before, but Mystia appears to have softened her tone a little. Maybe. And she seems to like embarrassing you. If you begged her to leave you alone, you might yet win some relief without fucking her. Or she’d just egg you on, then turn you down at the end.

--------------------

[X] Eat her ass. You need to keep what freedom you still have.

[X] Eat her pussy. Anything but that sadist’s ass.

[X] Refuse. You’ll suffer whatever she throws at you.

[X] Beg. Not like you have any pride left anyway.

[X] Write-in.

[X] Eat her ass. You need to keep what freedom you still have.

You swallow hard. Your skin burns and sweat coats your body. You really are going to do this, aren’t you? All for some stupid, fleeting dream of escape. You’re really going to…

“I’ll do-”

“Ah, ah, ah.” Wriggle nudges your head back. “I’m doing you a favor here, so how about you ask for it? Politely, of course.”

You bite back another curse.

“Please, mistress,” you blush, bracing yourself for what you must say next, “let me lick your ass.”

She pats your head. “Good girl.” She slides back into her chair, popping a button off her shorts and pulling the zipper down. She stops. “Say, why don’t you help me out here?” Licking her lips, she shimmies the shorts down to her knees. “The sooner you start, the sooner I finish, after all.” She pats her shorts.

Shaking, you lift your hands to her shorts and tug them down her legs. Your pulse quickens.

“You know, I’m impressed.” She slides her fingers through your hair. “Just this morning you were fighting me, yet here we are.” She hums a cheery tune. “If you keep this up, we might even get to take your cuffs off soon.”

You drop her shorts around her ankles and look back up to find her panties now stretched between her knees. You grip them and yank them down to her ankles. She lifts her feet out and sets them atop her shorts. Done.

You look back up to find a neatly trimmed but thick, dark green bush, thinning as it nears her pussy. As much as you hate what you’re about to do, you feel a tinge of relief that at least you won’t have pubic hair all over your face. Hopefully. Wriggle rubs your scalp as she stands back up. She turns around and with a snap, her black cape falls from her shoulders to join her discarded shorts and panties. She pats her bare, round ass.

“Well? Go ahead.” Wriggle leans forward on the chair, rubbing a circle on one cheek.

This is it. You swallow one last time as you plant your hands between her legs and lean in. Her ass-cheeks fill your vision once more as you approach her crevice. As she removes her hand, you veer off to kiss one of the cheeks.

You lick the cheek. The salty taste of her moist skin is hardly pleasant, but it’s no worse than her feet. You drag your tongue out in slow, lazy circles. You do this partly to delay the inevitable, but also in the hope that it’ll warm her up enough to finish the job quickly once you're inside. You lick across the crack to her other cheek, and with a few more circles, you’ve tasted about as much of her ass-cheeks as you can tolerate.

Still, encouraged by the relatively mundane taste, you plunge in, wedging your face between her cheeks. As a faint and bitter, almost floral scent drifts to your nose, the full weight of what you’re doing hits you like a hammer. With the weight of Wriggle’s ass pressing against your cheeks and your own lips poised near her asshole, you struggle to retain your nerve. You’re committed now. You must see this through. Unable to use your hands for anything more than support, you wedge yourself in a bit further and plant a kiss on her asshole. It’s not awful, but it’s weird enough to give you pause. You can’t quite bring yourself to push any deeper. Not yet.

You take a deep breath through your nose and let it out over Wriggle’s asshole. She shivers. You slide your tongue down her crack, working up the courage to taste it. As shivers run down your spine, you slide your tongue back up, tasting only skin. You lick around the edge a few times. Finally, bracing yourself, you take the plunge. You press your tongue against her asshole. It doesn’t budge. It’s clean, but that bitter taste hits you harder, almost choking you.

Wriggle hums a bouncy, bubbly tune you can’t quite recognize, as she wiggles her ass from side to side. Without her weight pinning you down, you’re forced to shift your head along with her or lose your momentum. You push your tongue against her, straining to keep up the pressure as she threatens to throw you off. For a moment, you feel the sphincter give, just slightly. Then you break through, your tongue slipping through to the interior of Wriggle’s ass.

Wriggle’s voice catches, but you almost choke on the bitterness engulfing your tongue. You keep going, but struggle to keep taking her alien flavor. You can’t give up yet. Wriggle’s already won, but you stand the thought of her smug face, should you pull out now. You slide your tongue along the edge, scared to go any deeper. You can feel small shivers crawling across Wriggle’s body as they run across her ass to vibrate against your face and your tongue.

You take a few more experimental licks, triggering new shivers each time. For once, it almost feels like you’re in control. You slide your tongue back out, eliciting a quiet whine from Wriggle. It would be fun, if you didn’t have to bury yourself in her ass for it. Taking a moment to breathe, you stare at the soft, round flesh before you. Wriggle’s ass wiggles a bit.

She speaks up. “Look, if you really want to wear that leash, you could just ask.”

Taking the hint, you lean back in. Letting a soft breath out, you press your tongue against her hole. You straighten your tongue and shove it back through her hole, forcing it down as far as it will go. Wriggle squeaks and clenches around your tongue as you force your way down her insides. Suddenly unsure of what to do next, you allow your tongue to go slack.

“W-What’s wrong? Can’t h-hoo-handle me?”

You drag your tongue back until only the tip sits inside.

“Bet you c-urk!”

You shove it back down, grinding against the walls of Wriggle’s now shaking ass. You drag it back and push it forward once more, getting a heavier quake out of her.

Something drips onto your hands. One drop, then two. It builds into a slow but steady rhythm, evidence of her desire moistening your palms. You’ll want to wash your hands, but at least you’re nearing your goal.

You pump your tongue up and down Wriggle’s asshole as hard as you can. You get her quaking, and her ass bouncing against your face, but you can’t quite seem to finish the job. You lift your hands up and rub your knuckles against Wriggle’s wet pussy. You hear her moaning now, but she’s still not cumming.

You scrape your tongue against one side as you flip your palms to cup her dripping slit, then rub one finger against her. She jerks, her ass smashing against you and jostling your tongue free. Anger blossoms, and you shove your face, with your suddenly tender nose, back into her crack. Your tongue surges through her sphincter to grind against her. Your finger slips through her folds to shove against her walls. She’s jerking and moaning. You hammer your tongue and finger against her. Then it hits. More of a screech than a scream, Wriggle’s voice rips through the air. For once, you thank the presence of her ass for dampening it.

Wriggle collapses in the seat as you haul your tongue from her ass. With a pop, her twitching asshole releases your tongue and you fall back on your own ass. For a moment you just sit there, dazed. As the fury subsides, you choose to thank whatever god might be watching that you didn’t do something stupid.

The bitter taste lingers on your tongue, as Wriggle’s juices drip from your fingers.

Still twitching, Wriggle hauls herself off the chair and sways toward you. Gripping your scalp, she presses your face against her hairy crotch. She rubs herself against you a few times, then pulls back.

“Sorry… ‘bout uh, that. But like I said, business. Can’t… can’t afford to be all wet for it, you know.” Wriggle turns around and crouches down. She picks her panties up and slides her legs through them as you slump into the hard ground.

You turn your head and spit a few times, but it does little for the taste. Relief fills your chest, as shame fills your stomach. You made it through everything without pissing anyone off or earning any new restraints, but you had to bury your face in Wriggle’s ass to do it.

A soft leather package thumps against your apron. You turn your head back to look at it, as you catch Wriggle, dressed again, standing over you. One hand holds that weird, fat-handled brush again.

“It’s from when we found you.” A tired grin creeps into her face. “You, uh, probably don’t want to let Mystia see that.” She hops down, popping the lid off her brush, and pushes your apron up to your stomach. She scribbles something on your upper thigh, before popping the lid back on and standing back up. “Just so Mystia knows to unlock you if you do, well, you know what.”

You glance down again, working through the difficulties of reading upside down, you manage to parse the message. ‘Fucked Wriggle.’

She turns and walks to the door. Struggling a bit with how close your wrists are stuck together, you peel the wallet open. The first thing you see is a flawless rendition of firm, full tits with hardened red nipples, lovingly cupped by their owner’s hands. Across from that is another image, this time of a spread pussy. You’re about to close it when you notice the side with the second picture is slightly thicker than the first. Reaching behind the picture of the pussy, you find a folded note.

Pulling it out and unfolding it, you find a message. ‘Last known sighting: forest of magic, deep.’

You press the note back inside. Great, just when you’d discarded most of your secrets. You look back to the door as a droplet of Wriggle’s arousal falls from your chin. You’re alone and no more restrained than when you arrived. If you took off your heels, you could try to sneak outside while Wriggle’s away and Mystia’s asleep. They may have prepared for this, but you might never get another chance.

Or you could try checking the mirror now that Mystia’s asleep. You can probably do it without waking her, but even if there were no risk of irritating your captors, you have no idea what you’d find. Maybe it’s nothing, maybe it’s your ticket out, or maybe it’s a trap, possibly leading to some other predator’s domain.

Or you could just surrender completely. Do whatever they want and hope they treat you better after having their way with you. Just focus on keeping them content until someone hopefully saves you. Maybe offer a prayer to some unknown god for luck. Maybe they’ll at least stop locking you in weird stuff.

--------------------

[X] Leave. This might be your only chance to ever leave the house.

[X] Mirror. It’ll steer you clear of Wriggle, at least.

[X] Pray. Anything to stay out of new restraints.

[X] Write-in.

[X] Mirror. It’ll steer you clear of Wriggle, at least.

After what you put yourself through with Wriggle, you’re not wasting a chance to do something. Spitting again in one last attempt to get that taste out, you haul yourself up into a sitting position, holding the wallet in your lap. You want to hold on to it, in case it contains some further secrets or information, but as the warming summer air hits your bare back, you’re reminded that you really have nowhere to put it. You could try just holding on to it, but you’d rather not have Mystia catch you with porn of another woman. No matter how thoroughly disinterested in it you yourself are.

Either you take it with you, risking everything just to hold on to something that likely won’t even help if you make it through, or you find somewhere to hide it so that if you’re caught, you still have a chance of salvaging things. In the end, it’s not even a real choice. Pushing against the floor, you haul yourself onto your unstable feet.

Mystia’s asleep and Wriggle’s gone. You’d like to think that gives you at least a few hours to do this, but you’re not optimistic enough to count on that. You need to get in and out now, while you still have the chance. You drop the wallet and kick it into a corner. No one should notice it immediately, and without Wriggle there’s nothing clearly connecting it to you anyway.

Walking as quietly as you can in these irritating, clacky heels, you approach the door and slowly, gently, turn the handle. Nudging the door open, you find that Mystia’s once more collapsed in her bed, this time on her side, with only her wings and ruffled hair poking out from the sheets. Wobbling a bit, you scoot toward the closet. Your heels clack against the floor as the silent toy shifts inside you. At least it’s not buzzing anymore. Glancing to the side, you catch Mystia’s wings twitch slightly, but nothing else. Click, clack. After a few more steps, you’ve finally reached the closet.

Pushing the door aside, you slip in. You muscle your way through her weird dresses, gingerly stepping over her toy chest. Finally, you stand before that mirror once more, confronted again by Wriggle’s insulting graffiti. Stepping to one side, you slide the mirror askew. Rotating it to face the side wall, you find something utterly bizarre.

A door. There’s a door on the backside of this pane of polished silver. Your heart leaps as the forbidden, sensuous feeling of hope rises within you. You yearn to shove those doors open and just plunge straight in, no matter what lies beyond. But your sanity reigns and instead you simply prod at the door, finding no obvious traps or dangers.

You put only the tiniest pressure on the handle. Then a little more. Now that you’re so close, you can’t stand the thought of screwing anything up. Increasing your effort in tiny increments, you slowly, eventually get the handle all the way down and push the door forward. It swings open and you step inside.

Your foot plunges, dragging you with it. There’s nothing on the other side. Your other leg crashes against the floor and sends you careening into a pitch-black abyss.

You roll and spin through the endless shadow. All around you, in every direction save for the rapidly fading, dim light of Mystia’s closet, is oblivion. Then a new light appears and, even through your chaotic, uncontrollable tumbling, you just manage to keep track of it. Soft, pale green peeks out from behind a pair of doors opening in the distance. Then another color, this time a dim red, cuts through the shadow.

Then the door you came from closes, sealing its light. Another light appears. Not a door, but a purple sphere. Light blasts out from it in a cascade of arcane bullets. Calling on your borrowed magic, you strain to push your body away. The energy moves, shifts, and even twists within you, but nothing happens.

The light from the bullets illuminates the realm around you, revealing an endless expanse of doors in every direction, often in the process of either opening or closing.

A bullet crashes into you, searing your back and throwing you aside. Thankfully, it managed to straighten you out. No longer spinning, you see a strange, amorphous floor beneath you, which you’re descending toward. You throw every ounce of will into moving and manage to shift yourself just barely out of the next bullet’s path.

A screech rips through the air, dragging your eyes to a distant door with a faint brown-ish shape rocketing toward you. In mere moments, it resolves into the unmistakable pink hair and odd wings of your captor. Mystia Lorelei’s closing in on you. Looking forward, you find a door opening, and by straining your power, shift your trajectory just enough to fall toward it.

You crash against the floating doorstep, wounding your already sore back as you tumble through an unfamiliar stone basement. Leaping to your feet, you trip on your stilted shoes, barely catching yourself. Standing back up, you lurch around toward the door and shut it. You turn away and plant your bare back against it, just as Mystia pounds into it. One thump, then two. Looking forward, you catch a familiar face, her stark-naked body strung taut in glowing red rings.

Nue stands before you, her wings missing and her wrists hanging in the air, her body slender and lithe, save for a pair of perfectly shaped breasts. Another pair of rings forces her legs apart. Red whip marks adorn the skin of her bare breasts and a similarly red hue burns across her likewise bare pussy.

She looks away, her face flushing. She squirms, then looks back at you, giving a sheepish, apologetic grin. She opens her mouth to speak, but no sound comes out. Then you notice the red ring around her throat.

An awkward silence falls. Nue twists her arms and legs but fails to accomplish much. She nods in your direction.

You raise your voice. “What…”

Nue shakes her head, then dramatically purses her lips. You place a finger to your lips, the cuffs dragging your other hand with it as you cock your head in question. She nods. Whispering, you continue.

“Do you need my help?”

She shakes her head again, firm and controlled. She flashes a cocky grin, before returning to a more somber expression. She nods toward you again.

You point to yourself, questioning. She shakes her head. Looking behind you, there’s just the door. You point to it. She nods.

“You want me to leave?”

She nods again, emphatic.

“I… can’t.” The thumping dies down and you sink to your ass in relief. “Someone’s chasing me back there.”

She stares at you, a mix of sympathy and exasperation. She strains against her bindings a few times, whether to break free, or for effect, you can’t tell. She nods to the door again, giving you this look. Like your mother telling you to eat your vegetables, or not to go outside after dark.

You raise your hands, in what you’d intended to be a placating gesture, only to be reminded that they’re still locked together.

“Is there any other way out?”

She mimes a heavy sigh. Small, paper lanterns give off a weak glow, barely illuminating the rows of heavy barrels to each side. One such row runs behind Nue to the corner of the room. You’re in a cellar meant to store drinks rather than prisoners, but there’s only going to be one other way out.

“I’m uh, sorry for getting you caught up in all of this.”

Nue scoffs, grinning again.

“Is there anything I can…”

Footsteps sound above you. You turn to Nue, whose eyes fly wide open.

“You really think I should…”

Nue nods, a touch frantic this time.

You get up, careful to retain your balance as you rise. You take a step back from the door and turn around. Maybe she’s gone now, maybe…

The door flies open, Mystia lunging toward you. She grabs the chain between your wrists and hauls you forward, all but throwing you with her back into the abyss.

Where once there was one ball firing out barrages, there’s now several. Swarms and cascades of bullets rain down upon you. And up to you, and from your sides. Mystia presses your head into her bare breasts, and your poor pussy’s ‘belt’ against her bare thigh. She soars through the void, jerking and weaving around the torrent of light.

The flowery scent of her flesh fills your nose again, but she gives you space to breathe, at least. As she presses something thick, long, and rubbery against your hair. She rolls through one barrage and sort-of ‘leaps’ over another. After a few more ducks and dives, she halts before another pair of doors. Lurching to one side, she throws it open and hurls you through a moment later.

Once the confusion dies down, you find yourself back in the close-

Not the closet. You find yourself in a strange room. It’s made of a different, lighter wood, possibly cedar. The room’s empty, apart from a lone futon in the corner, a pair of wide golden rings propped against the wall, and a simple door across from you. There’s a thin window near the top of the wall, letting in a small band of daylight. Mystia tumbles through a moment later, shutting the door behind her.

“Finally! Back…” She looks around, apparently as confused as you are. “What the hell? This was the exact door I came in through.”

While she’s catching her bearings, you drag yourself to the side. She’s not touching you, so if she can just spend a little longer orienting herself…

Her hands slam against the ground on either side of your shoulders. Something rolls across the floor nearby.

“You. You’re never going to want me, are you?”

Really? Is now the time for this? What does she… wait. There’s a ragged edge to her breathing, and though she's no doubt still stronger than you, her limbs sag. Even her eyes flutter once or twice. She’s tired and, if you could just put her back to sleep, you should be able to get away.

Still, you need a diversion. This is not a subject you want to talk about right now.

“I… I fucked Wriggle.”

Her eyes snap to you, narrowing.

“I mean, she made me do it. Harassed me until I gave in. And uh…”

Mystia scoots up, planting her bare, moist pussy on your stomach. She places a finger against your lip. “Well then, if you’re never going to want me, I might as well follow her example. There’s no real reason to wait, is there?” She slides a hand over your breast, giving it a light squeeze. “So, are you going to pleasure your fiancé, or do I have to take a more forceful approach?”

A quiet, solemn chant echoes nearby.

You can’t fight her, but you’ve left her home. You could try calling out and pray that whoever arrives is strong enough to take her on, but not another youkai. Or, if you calm her down enough, you might just get her asleep again and try to figure out where you are before you expose your presence to every local in earshot. Of course, looking at her now, you have doubts about how ‘calm’ you can get her.

On the other hand, if you could just distract her with something, you could make a break for the void door. She liked talking about when she met you, so maybe try and get her on that again. Hopefully she'll be unable to follow you through that kind of chaos again.

--------------------

[X] Cry for Help. Maybe you’ll find an ally?

[X] Distract and Run. Lose her in the void.

[X] Relax and Scout. Could keep your options open.

[X] Write-in.

[X] Cry for Help. Maybe you’ll find an ally?

You’ve been here before, pinned down by someone dead-set on your body, and so far, only one thing’s ever pulled you out before you’d satisfied your captors.

“Help! Somebody! Please- hlph!” Gripping your head, Mystia smothers you between her heavy breasts. The flowery scent of her skin stifles you as her firm breasts crash against the sides of your head. You press your hands against the smooth skin of her stomach and twist your body in a vain attempt to free yourself from the crushing confines of her bust.

Your lungs soon burn. Straining, you push back against her grip in a vain bid for breath and speech.

“Quiet!” Mystia bites out, bunching your apron up against her crotch as she slowly retracts her hands. As you pull back, sucking precious air back into your lungs, she presses a finger against your lips. “I swear, if someone interrupts us…”

“Somebody! Anyone! Please save m- ulp!” Mystia shoves a breast through your open teeth, burying it inside your lips.

“Shut. Up.” She mashes your face against it, then rolls your mouth around her breast, rubbing her nipple in circles against your tongue. She gives you a nearly withering glare. “Do you really want to do this?” Releasing one hand from your head, she hangs two fingers before your face. Sliding them just above your mouth, she pinches your nose. You try to jerk your head away, but both hands remain firm. Your muscles strain, but she keeps your airways sealed tight.

Pulling you by the nose, she drags your mouth in a few more circles around her nipple. You hear a quiet moan as your muscles burn and your lungs quake. She looks down on you, expression softening, as your vision swims.

Your body trembles as sensations fade.

Then, suddenly, she lets go. You collapse back to the floor, quaking. You wheeze, gulping in every bit of air you can as Mystia scoots up to your breasts.

“Pleah. S- oh… ome… one…” You strain, forcing out what you can between each gasping breath.

“We could have been the most adorable couple, you know. Maybe we could’ve even ditched Wriggle.”

Mystia scoots over your bust to settle her full thighs on either side of your head. The short, pink strip of hair above her pussy looms before you. You barely exhale your dread before the inevitable happens, as her full, puffy slit presses against your lips.

“Sorry, honey. But you just keep shouting. I kind of need to keep you quiet.”

She rubs her pussy against your lips, smearing you with the steady flow of her juices. You take a breath and push your head from side to side, seeking an opening. Mystia rocks her hips, smearing up to your nose with her arousal, before sliding back down.

“Hhph. Mh.” Nothing but muffled, incoherent noises make it through her pussy.

Then Mystia swings a leg out, flipping onto her back and dragging you with her. You’re pulled onto your chest, head still buried in her crotch as she loosens her grip. She strokes your hair as you pull back, resting on the soft flesh of her thigh, panting.

Gazing past her ample breasts, you find an almost mischievous smile.

“Ready, honey?”

You give a nervous smile back. Sucking in another breath, you part your lips to speak-

Only to have them shoved back against her pussy, vice grip pressed tight against your scalp.

“Aw, c’mon. You don’t have to keep trying that, do you?”

She rubs your nose between the lips, letting out a happy sigh. You plant your hands against the floor and shove upward. Your back arches, but your head fails to budge.

Then her thighs clamp together, rubbing against your head as she drags your face across her crotch to scrape against her pussy. Her scent and taste seep into your skin as she grinds against you.

Back and forth, she rides your face and bathes you in her arousal. She soon lets out heavy, almost moaning breaths as you feel sweat bead across her thighs. You twist and strain, beyond hope of freedom, but unwilling to simply surrender to the cage of her smothering muff.

Even as the first tremors travel down her body, she slows down and eases her thighs off you.

“H-hey, Naoko. You hate th-that belt, right? Help me out so we can take it off, okay? Give me some of your lov-vely tongue, would you?”

You shake your head. Her thighs smash back against you as she shoves your head back into her flesh. Her legs squeeze around you, bearing down on your skull. For a few, defiant moments, you hold firm. Then pain flares across your cheeks and your jaw threatens to crack under their mounting pressure.

Fear overtakes frustration and your tongue slides against her pussy. The pressure eases, but your head remains locked within her legs and her grip. You lick at her moist mound, easing into the taste of her terrible lust. She’s shaking as you sweep up and down her slit. Your tongue grazes her clit, ripping a stunningly deep moan from her lips. You give a few more passes, sending her into contortions, quakes, and heaving, panting breaths, then push in. The dripping lips part around your own wet muscle and it slips with ease into her canal. You shiver, squirming at the taste as you slide deeper in, probing for her sweet spot.

She’s quaking as her sweat seeps down your nose and cheeks. You pull your tongue back and pump it in once, then twice. The third push drags an almost trilling squeal out of her and her thighs beat against you, slamming against your skull until her voice dies back down and they fall limp. Her hand falls from your hair. Now free, you pull back, wincing at the fluids dripping from your face.

You pull yourself back, sitting up. For a moment you just sit there, stunned. Is that it? Certainly, you’re not exactly bothered by the thought of finishing so soon, or not being ‘pleasured’ yourself. Even if Mystia’s left you smothered in the smell and taste of her own satisfaction. At least it’s overcome Wriggle’s taste.

Now would be the time to run or call for help again. Or do something. You look around, spotting that thing Mystia had held. A shiny, purple, double-ended cock. Something she must have decided to pick up before pursuing you through that door. You look back to Mystia’s resting form, her wings sprawled out across the ground. She stirs.

Mystia stretches, sitting up. Blearily beaming at you, she pushes herself onto her feet. Her wings droop, but her but crotch still drips in desire. She steps toward you, wobbling slightly and bringing that dripping slit closer to your face. She crouches down to your level, still beaming. She holds up a small silvery key.

“Well, Wriggle and I both came now, so I guess you don’t need that terrible belt anymore, right?”

“I, guess not?” This should be wonderful news, so why has a pit formed in your stomach?

“Good.” She pushes your apron back up and takes a minute to stare at the writing on your thigh. “Oh, that cheeky brat~” She slides the key along the side of the belt, into a contraption where the ‘buckle’ would be. “Lie down so I can take it off, okay?”

Still oddly nervous, you lie down.

With a light twist, something clicks, and the strip pulls free. Fiddling with something, she loosens the metal bands of the belt and pulls it from your crotch. As she drags it down your legs, you slide your own hands to your pussy and with one of them, reach inside to grab that damn toy. Pulling it out, you’re surprised to find the round, pink object smaller than you thought.

You throw it away as Mystia pulls the belt from your feet. You let out a sigh, finally free of at least one trouble. Mystia steps away from you.

You close your eyes, sighing again in relief. It’s over. You’re safe for now.

Mystia picks something up. Looking to your side, you find her holding that purple cock. It bends toward the ground, bouncing slightly, as she walks back to you. Standing over you, she presses one head to her pussy. Your stomach drops as the head slips through her eager slit and the shaft travels up, bit by bit. That’s why she cared so much about your belt.

Hands bound in front of you, you wiggle your back to shift away from her. She grabs one of your legs, holding the other head of her toy cock in the other. You whimper as she positions it against your pussy. She yawns but remains fixed on your crotch.

“You- you’ve gotta be tired, right?” She can’t keep going, right? “We just had sex. How about you get some rest?”

Mystia shakes her head. “C’mon, Naoko. That was just the warm-up! Now…”

“I’m here! Who needed sa… ving?”

Mystia freezes. You crane your neck to catch someone standing behind you, with black-streaked, dirty blonde hair and a rack superior to your captor’s. She steps forward, bringing her long, crimson dress close to your head, draped over a pair of white pants. There’s a wet flop when Mystia’s dildo falls to the floor. She stands straight, shoving her arms across her rigid nipples and dripping pussy.

“No one. No one needs saving, right, darling?” Mystia turns to you, hinting a threat beneath her forced cheer.

“Please, save me.” You scoot away from Mystia. Something feels off about this new woman, something that reminds you of Kogasa, Kagerou, and Wriggle. But you can’t afford to reject any would-be saviors right now.

She levels what you’d like to think is a heroic glare at Mystia. “What’d you do to her?”

Mystia lets out a soft but shrill laugh. “Me? Nothing. She’s pulling your leg. Right, Naoko? You’re not leaving me again, right?”

“She took me away and made me…” You’re shaking, but you can’t quite bring yourself to continue.

The woman kneels. “Relax, I’m here for you.” Standing back up, she steps over you. You shut your eyes just as her legs cross over your head.

“Naoko! Wait, please! I- I’m sorry, okay? We can go slower ne…”

“She’s under my protection. Leave.”

With your vision blocked by the woman’s admittedly firm back and shapely ass, you can’t tell just what Mystia sees. But she jumps at the low, feral growl the woman lets out.

For a moment, Mystia cowers. She stammers, stops, then she bolts through that strange door, slamming it behind her. The woman turns around and crouches over you. She looks over your body, visibly wincing. Then she takes a sniff, scrunching her nose.

“Don’t worry, you’re safe in our temple.” She grins, cocky and proud.

She sits down next to you. “Name’s Shou. So, there uh… anything you wanna talk about?” She gives you a worried look, before turning her head away, blushing.

“Where am I?”

“Where are… you don’t know?” Shou looks out the window, face scrunched together. “What sort of villain…” She clears her throat. “You’re in Myouren Temple, the center of Buddhism here, and a refuge for all who suffer.”

Myouren, huh? That’s… not good. Mystia and Wriggle might have been better than here. You can’t stay here. But… It’s close to the village, where that monster lurks.

“Uh, thanks for saving me,” you give the brightest smile you can offer, “but I really need to go.”

“Not yet.” She fidgets. “Wait just a bit, okay?”

You shiver, backing away from her. “How, how long?”

“Just an hour or so, ‘kay? You need to rest and stuff, I think. Then we can take you to your friends or something.”

You relax. You’re still in danger, but she’s probably not planning to jump your bones. Yet. Still, there’s something you need to know.

“You’re a youkai, right?”

She blinks, rubbing the back of her head. “I uh, guess so. But don’t worry. On my honor, the honor of this temple, and my assistant, I swear I’ll protect you ‘till you’re ready to leave.”

That’s… chivalrous, you guess? But…

“Are there any humans that could take your place?”

She droops. “No, really. You’re totally safe with me. I’m not going to eat you or anything.”

You heave out a sigh. “Yes, I know.” Well, not necessarily, but that’s a topic for another time. “But you’re going to, well…” You clear your throat. “Seriously, is there anywhere else I can rest instead?”

She looks downright offended now. “Really, we’re not all ravenous beasts, you know. But…” She closes her eyes, scrunching her brow. Opening them, she continues, “I suppose the human village is-”

“Besides there.”

She cocks her head, visibly puzzled. “I guess I could take you down to the mausoleum? I think there’s someone who could shelter you there. But really, what is your trouble?”

“I, I make youkai want to… well, do what she just did. To me, that is.”

Shou’s silent, whether she’s concerned or simply humoring you, you can’t tell.

She hasn’t attacked you yet, so maybe she’ll be more like Nue? If so, you might be able to afford sticking around for a little while, but could you possibly count on the rest of the temple showing such restraint? On the other hand, any escape route now all but promises more youkai on the way.

Where to you go?

--------------------

[X] Stay. Just long enough to get a plan together.

[X] Go back. Pray to find a better door.

[X] Mausoleum. Pray for a friendly human.

[X] Write-in.

[X] Stay. Just long enough to get a plan together.
-[x] Tell her, unambiguously and in full detail, exactly what your aura is, how it works, and why this would make you concerned with the fact that she is a youkai.
-[x] Put the chastity belt back on now that the toy is no longer a problem.

For a moment, you just lie there. Between the looming dangers of Mystia and Kogasa, both escape routes hold the threat of youkai who’re already primed and waiting for the chance to fuck you. The temple, at least, should contain only youkai who’ll eventually try to rape you.

So long as that book runs free, the village is off-limits, and a return to any of the outlying farms would undoubtedly result in nothing but a repeat of last summer. Beyond that, there are a few outposts with humans powerful enough to ward off most youkai attackers. But even then, with places such as the Hakurei Shrine, there are just too many youkai who either visit or operate nearby.

Besides, as much as you’d love to have a personal one-on-one with the Hakurei Shrine Maiden herself, the thought of burdening her like that makes you sick.

Which leaves you with, having had your attempt to reach Okina collapse the moment you left the village, no option but to wait and pray someone takes care of that book soon.

In the meantime, you’re stuck in a den of soon-to-be randy youkai, with your wrists still cuffed, more than half your body naked, and nothing to protect yourself.

“Are you… feeling okay?”

You turn to Shou, who struggles to meet your gaze.

“I’m sorry, but I’ve never really…” she shrugs, more defeated than indifferent, “never really had to help someone with this sort of problem.”

“What sort of problem?”

She glances away, pressing a finger to your face and wiping a streak of fluid off. “Well, this.” She sniffs it, wrinkling her nose. “I guess I’m just trying to say that, well…” She sighs, wiping her finger on her skirt. “Well, that I’m here for you. If there’s anything you need to get off your…” she gives a brief glance to your chest, “anything you wish to say.”

“Actually…” There is something. You don’t want to talk about it, but you sure as hell need to. “About m-”

“Oh, just a second.” Shou jumps to the door, giving you a quick, embarrassed shrug. “Be right back!” She rushes through it, closing it behind her.

Damn it.

Well, at least you’re alone. For now. The futon lies, still untouched, in the corner. Near your legs lie the purple cock, still sticky with Mystia’s ‘excitement,’ as well as the belt she took off your crotch, and the pink ball you pulled out. You’d rather not have to see either of those toys again and worry they may give the locals certain ideas.

But that belt, well, it’s not like you have anything else to protect yourself.

Pulling yourself up, you slip your legs through the holes and grip it on either side of the buckle, stretching your cuffs as far apart as they’ll go. You slide it up your legs, and with a quick flip with one hand, slip it under your apron. Cold metal slides up your crack until the thick, heavy bands hover over your waist once more. You push the loose band back in, snapping the belt tight against your hips.

The chain between your wrists jingles as you tug at the belt’s edges. To your relief, it holds firm. So firm that you’re certain any attacker must be far stronger than you to break it.

Which has been at least half of the people to attack you.

Still, it might resist them too, and it’s better than nothing. Crotch guarded, you sit back down to plan. Grabbing the key Mystia used to open it, you flip it between your fingers. Idly, you angle one of your cuffs up, exposing the keyhole. You line the key against it and push, only for it to bump against the edge, incapable of sliding inside. You grumble, but you’re not shocked.

Honestly, did they even have to cuff you? What were you gonna do, scratch them? You flip the key around. The thought of forever trapping yourself in the belt worries you, but so long as you hold on to this key, your attacker could always just take it, then use it to undo your one barrier.

Flushed, you look up to find a only blank wall. The door you just came from has disappeared, leaving a featureless plane of smooth wood in its place.

Crap.

You’ll need to hold on to that key for now, and just pray you can find somewhere to hide it. Maybe you could…

The door opens. You twist around to find Shou striding back inside, her giant tits drawing your eyes as she carries a small bucket with one hand and a bottle with the other, with a small, thin brown blanket thrown over her shoulder.

“I figured you’d want to, well, get that stuff off.” She circles around in front of you, giving a faltering, awkward smile as she sets the bucket and bottle down beside her. Dropping the blanket behind her, she pulls a wet cloth out of the bucket. Giving it a squeeze, she leans forward, bringing it to your face. “Close your eyes, okay?”

“Ms. Shou, I appreciate the help, really. But you…”

“The youkai thing?”

You nod. “Even otherwise innocent youkai try to force themselves on me eventually.”

She falters. “Well, someone needs to help you clean up at least. You’ll let me do that, right?”

Nervous, you nod.

She pushes the cloth forward. You wince as the cool, plush fabric hits your cheek. She drags it across your nose to the other side, smearing sudsy water behind it. She slides it down, then toward your mouth. For a split-second, you panic, visions of black tentacles, metal rings, and your own panties filling your head. You lock your jaw, preparing to run. But it just passes over, moving up to your eyes. She swipes it across your face a few more times, then pulls back.

You open your eyes. She’s scrutinizing you, staring at your forehead.

You wince when she pushes the cloth back against it. She scrubs back and forth, pressing harder with each pass. Soon it feels like she’s trying to grind it into your skin. She pulls back, and you loosen your face from the grimace you’d adopted.

She sighs.

“It’s just not going away, huh?” She runs a finger across your forehead. “I’m sure Hijiri could get this out, be she won’t be back for awhile…”

Her breasts sway slightly, nudged by even the subtle motions of her arm.

“Seriously, I don’t think…”

“Here, take this.” She holds out the bottle, its cork already gone.

Hesitantly, you take it.

“I can’t clean her profanity off, but this should help get the taste out, right? Just take a sip.”

A part of you realizes this is a terrible idea. Accepting an unknown liquid from a youkai, given what your aura does to them. But you find it increasingly difficult to say no to such people. As if any sign of resistance will turn them into another Kagerou or Wriggle. Or another whatever-the-hell possessed Kosuzu.

You press the bottle to your lips and take a gulp.

It is refreshing, and it does do a decent job of washing Mystia’s residue down your throat.

“There, see? I’d like to say something like ‘all better now,’ but,” she glances at you, “that’d be a lie, wouldn’t it?”

You set the bottle down. “I guess so.” You sag. “But thanks. It’s… refreshing for, well, someone like you to help me, when…”

She looks toward the ceiling. “The youkai thing again?”

You look down. “It’s going to happen, you know. I can’t say how long it’ll take, but the longer you spend near me, the more likely it is take over… I think.”

“You think?”

You grumble. “Most youkai don’t attack me like that until we’ve talked or at least made eye contact a few times.” You turn to look at her. She’s looking more relaxed. Or maybe you’re feeling more relaxed? “But seriously. It’s going to happen. If you really want to help, you need to help me get out of here and take me somewhere that’s not crawling with youkai.”

She rubs the back of her head. “You know, I’m sure there are some youkai you can trust. But if you can’t go the village, where else is there to go?”

“I… I don’t know.” You sigh, defeated. It’s inevitable, isn’t it? Unless you can somehow find a haven in the village, there’s nothing that’ll prevent you from falling into the lap of another sex monster. Well, maybe if you snuck into Senkai or the Realm of the…

Back Door. That’s where you just came from, isn’t it?

God damn it.

Shou leans forward again, this time wrapping her arms around you. Her massive breasts threaten to choke you as she pulls you into a bear hug that squeezes the air from your lungs. Your skin heats up and you let out a wheeze, just before she pulls back. She pulls the blanket out and throws it across your shoulders. You realize it’s not a blanket just before she ties the threads across your collarbone. It’s a cloak. She tugs the edges, pulling them closer together to over your apron.

“It’s not perfect, but given your, uh…” she gestures at your hands, “restraints, this is the best I could do.” Your heart’s thumping. Not for love, but not from fear either. In fact, it feels a bit like that time with Nue.

She stands up, and you can’t help but watch the motion of her healthy, curvy thighs as she does so. Something’s wrong.

“Hey, I bet my assistant could get those cuffs off you. She’s really good at…” She trails off, her eyes resting on your crotch.

Then you feel it, moisture trickling out from behind your belt. Again. With nothing even forcing it out this time. You look back up at Shou, confused and flushed.

For a moment you just sit there, stunned. Then, in a flash, you clamp your hands over your crotch and lock your legs together. Your thoughts turn to a near-incoherent mush, every attempt to explain yourself or plan your next action derailed by the thought of having shown your… arousal? Having shown your lubrication to a potentially friendly, helpful stranger.

“I, uh, well, Mystia, she…” You raise your hands—forced again by those fucking cuffs to move them together—in a vague, grasping gesture. “She, uh…”

Shou gently pushes your hands back down.

“It’s okay.” She looks away. “A-anyway. I think you should stick around for now, I’m sure we can hold ourselves back for a few days, right?”

“Days?”

She winces. “It couldn’t act that fast, could it?”

You slump down. “A wolf youkai attacked me the moment we met.”

“Oh. Well, that’s…” She presses a finger to her brow. “But anywhere else would also have youkai. Look, I’ll just let everyone know that if they try to do anything weird, they answer to me, okay?”

Your skin burns, as the shivers fade.

“You sure that’ll work?”

She flushes. “It’s fine! Desire leads to suffering. To break free of samsara, you can’t go lusting after things. All that good stuff. Besides, do you even know why you effect youkai the way you do?”

You stop. “I… no, not really. If I knew, it wouldn’t be happening, would it?”

She shrugs. “Maybe. If it was some big rule of the universe, there wouldn’t be anything you could do, even if you did know, right?”

“I, guess so?”

She adopts a meditative posture. “Right. But maybe your energies or something are just acting strange. Then if you fixed them, it would stop happening, right? I could try and help you out with that, though Hijiri would be better suited for it.”

You look down at your cuffed wrists. You’d rather get these pieces of shit off, but a better understanding of your powers may be more useful in the long term.

“But I think you need something else right now.” A smile creeps up Shou’s face. Not lecherous or cruel, but silly. She holds up the bottle. “Booze!”

“…What?” Here? Now? Get drunk, surrounded by youkai? Wait, that didn't taste like achohol.

“Look, I can tell you’re not in the right place right now. Nothing’s better for what ails you than a nice, deep bottle of sake and a sympathetic ear.” She leans forward, planting a hand on your shoulder. “Trust me, once you’ve flushed out your worries and had a good rest, you’ll be thinking much clearer.”

“It’s morning.”

“Noon, actually. But if anyone deserves the go-ahead for some day-drinking, it’s you.”

You eye her, nervous. “You want to fuck me, don’t you?”

She sighs, drooping. “See? This is what I’m talking about. You need to be able to trust someone. And if you’re not in the village, that someone’s going to be a youkai.”

She… may have a point. You’re learning some things, but you’re still helpless on your own and, past the farms and village walls, humans are hard to find. Furthermore, your psyche’s taken a beating over the past several days which you’ve never really had a chance to work through. This might just be your only chance to do so without guaranteeing your partner follows up by fucking you.

But is it really worth the risk? If you need to wait, wouldn’t it be best to do so alone? You could always pray or something.

--------------------

[X] Get her assistant. Immediate problems first.

[X] Practice magic. Self-protection capabilities first.

[X] Drink. You need a clean psyche.

[X] Pray. Avoid the youkai at all costs.

[X] Write-in

[X] Get her assistant. Immediate problems first.

“Maybe later. You said you had an assistant that could help with these?” You extend your arms, presenting your chained wrists.

“Oh, right. That would be more pressing for you, wouldn’t it?”

“As much as I… appreciate your offer, yes.” The thought of drinking your troubles away tempts you, but first things first. Besides, you’re still not sure she doesn’t want to fuck you. Or that she won’t once her inhibitions drop.

Shou stands up, laying her hand on your shoulder. “You’ll be alright. Trust us, we can work something out.” She looks to the side, scratching her chin. “Actually, I’ve got an idea.”

She grabs your wrist and hauls you up.

“What, what are you doing?”

“This way.” She pulls you do the door. She is… way more powerful than you. “I’m not really sure if I can solve your problems, but…” She opens the door, pulling you into a tight hallway. “I know people who’re smarter and cleverer than me. If we all put our heads together, we’ll come up with something.”

“Wait! Wait. You’re showing me to the rest of the temple?”

“Well, I’m not sure showing is the right word, but yes, I suppose so.”

“Why? Didn’t you hear anything I just said?” You tug at her arm and set your feet into the ground. But you just stumble as she drags you along.

“Well, you did say it takes time for your power to take hold.”

“I said it usually takes time! Remember the wolf youkai? She attacked me immediately!”

Shou stops and turns to you. You relax your arms.

“If you stay here too long, we’ll all fall under your spell, right?”

You look down. “I, well, I think so.”

“And if you run? What happens if you meet someone so susceptible then?”

You look away. “She has her way with me.”

Shou resumes walking, dragging you with her again. “Right, so we need to take some chances. I’m the strongest youkai here, so I’ll step in if anyone gets weird, okay?”

“…Alright.”

Reluctant, you let her lead you to an open room with six rows of low tables, each long enough for about six or eight people to eat on at a time. A series of windows line the long wall across from you. She guides you to the nearest corner and lets go.

She pauses for a moment. “I’ll have Naz here in just a moment, okay? Just scream if someone gets weird.”

“Wait, what?”

…And she jogs off down a hallway on the opposite end, and even now you can’t help but note the way her breasts bounce on the way. You need to get your mind off feminine flesh before even your moments of respite start blending into your ever-growing list of traumatic attacks.

Unsure of what to do, you sit down at the nearest table and set your hands on it, cuffs clinking against the wood.

Birds chirp as a faint touch of incense wafts through the air. You draw your wrists apart, pulling the chain taut before they’re even parallel. You strain against it for a moment, then let them fall back together. You rub your thighs against the cool metal of your chastity belt. There’s still a faint ‘itch’ tugging at you.

“I promise, okay? Don’t worry about it.”

Your head flips to the distant hallway as two women walk out of it. One wears a dark hood atop a white dress, while the other wears what you barely remember as a sailor suit, complete with a cap and shorts.

The hooded woman speaks. “You don’t understand. The implications alone could destroy everything we’ve worked for.”

The sailor bops her on the head. The hooded one opens her mouth, then sees you and stops. She coughs, and the sailor follows her gaze. The hooded one gestures at something behind her, then walks up next to you.

Frowning, she leans over. “Are you okay?”

You shrug. “I’m… fine. Just fine.”

“Yo, what happened?” You turn to find her partner already sitting, cross-legged, on the table before you.

“A pair of youkai attacked me and carried me into the forest. Shou saved me.”

The hooded woman gives her partner a significant look, then sits down. “That’s what now? The fourth youkai attack around the village?” She turns back to you. “I’m Ichirin, by the way.” She gestures toward her partner. “This here is Minamitsu.”

“It’s Murasa, and hey, we don’t know it happened there.” Murasa flicks your forehead. “Hey, did those youkai write this crap?”

“Murasa!”

You swallow. “Yes. One of them liked… well, she liked to degrade me.”

Ichirin wraps a hand around your side. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s fine. More importantly, and please don’t take this the wrong way, but you need to avoid me.”

Ichirin pulls back. Murasa just cocks her head. “What, you sick?”

You shake your head. “No. It’s just that, well…” no use hiding it, “I make youkai horny.”

“What!”

Murasa and Ichirin clamp down their ears, while you’re forced to settle with cupping one ear, one hand hanging below it.

“What, what was that?”

Murasa waves her hand. “That’s just Kyouko, don’t worry about it.”

“O…kay.”

“But seriously, ‘make youkai horny?’ Mind explaining that one?”

You look down, setting your hands back on the table. “There’s not much to explain. Any youkai who spends time with me eventually decides she wants to have sex with me.” You shiver. “By then, they never really bother asking for consent.”

“You’re saying you meet youkai, and they try to rape you.”

You shiver, slightly. “They, they don’t just try.”

“What, they’ve actually…” Murasa cuts off, looking guilty.

“Yes.”

Ichrin speaks up. “Say, miss, how many youkai have you met, who’ve… desired you?”

“At least a dozen. Beast youkai mostly, but they weren’t alone. There were even some fairies after me.” Which would’ve creeped you out, had you been doing anything other than fighting off or running away from bigger, scarier youkai at the time.

Murasa claps. “I getcha. You think we’ll turn on ya, right?”

“Yes.”

“Well-”

“’Scuse me, coming through.” A short, gray-haired woman with big mouse-ears on her head muscles between you and Ichirin. She drops a wallet-like parcel on the table and unrolls it, revealing a series of picks. Selecting a simple, slender one, she pulls it out and motions for your wrists. Hesitant, you offer it to her, which she takes. She rolls the cuff around your wrist, angling the keyhole up.

“Name’s Nazrin.” She slides the pick down the hole. “I’ve got crap to do, so let’s get this over with.”

She slides the pick back out, pushing it to one side on the way. “Mhm, mhm.” She slides it back down, then up.

Murasa rocks from side to side. “What’s yer name and where’re you from, by the way?”

“I’m Naoko. Do you know the Hondas?”

Murasa and Ichirin look to each other, then both shrug.

“Nah. Not really.”

“Oh. Well, we work a farm a few hours south of the village.” You stop, thinking. “But the village itself is where I’ve lived the past year.”

Nazrin grabs a second pick and pushes it against the first, still inside the hole. She drags the first back out, then slides it back in, keeping the second positioned like a lever.

“That’s pretty far out isn’t it?”

Ichirin broods.

There’s a click, and your cuff pops open. You pull your wrist free as Nazrin reaches for your other cuff. You lean back, supporting your weight with your newly freed hand.

“It’s near the bamboo forest, but it’s not too close. I think.”

Ichirin perks back up. “Do you know the names of anyone who attacked you?”

“Well, the first two were Kogasa a-”

“Kogasa? Are you certain?”

“Yes.”

Ichrin quiets down. “After that, did anyone attack you in the village?”

“Yes. A, uh… a book.”

“Yo, Ichi, watcha thinkin’?”

Ichirin mutters something under her breath, before a grin bursts across her face. “Murasa, we have an explanation for the attacks. This will fix everything. We just need Ms. Honda to come with us to the v-”

“No.”

The two turn to you. With another click, the remaining handcuff falls from your wrist. Nazrin puts the picks back, rolls up their container, and takes the cuffs. “I’m done. Bye.” Before you can thank her, she walks off down the hallway Ichirin and Murasa came from.

“Why not? You said you had to go, the human village is better anyway…”

“The book’s still there. It’s why I left.”

“You left?”

“I…” You didn’t explain that, did you? “Yes, I left. That’s how Mystia caught me. Besides…”

There’s a crash. Moments later, someone sprints through the distant hallway, rushing toward you. Soon, a small woman with floppy dog ears pounds into the room. She skids to a stop near Murasa.

“You! Why’re you lying about Mystia?”

Stunned, you just stare back at this girl, broom clutched in her hand.

“You know her?”

“She’s my friend! And bandmate!”

You shrink back. “I didn’t lie! But if it helps, she might not have had a choice…”

The loud dog girl stops. “What?”

“Normally it only takes a few days, at most, for youkai to fall for me. We first met more than a year ago. The aura’s effect could’ve built to impossible strength since then.” You decide not to mention that she also tried to rape you back then. Or that by such logic you’d have swarms of youkai hunting you down by now. “Maybe it was impossible to fight.”

“Your aura?”

Murasa snorts. “Her youkai seducing aura.”

“Oh, right.” The dog girl pouts. “I still think you just don’t like Mystia. If you can super-powerfully seduce youkai, then do it on me!”

“What?” Does she have any idea what she’s even asking?

“I said do it on me. Make me rape-y.”

She’s kidding, right?

“Kyouko? Don’t you think that’d just make things worse?”

“I…” Could you do that? You’ve never tried. “I can’t. If I had any control over my aura, she never would’ve attacked me.” Either way, you sure as hell are not about to find out.

“Do you think we’re also vulnerable?”

“You are. That’s why you shouldn’t stay too close.”

“But you're not goin’ back to the village?”

“No.”

“Then what’s yer big plan?”

“I… I’m not sure. If someone takes care of the book soon, I can return to the village. But if that doesn’t happen, I’ll eventually need somewhere to go before I turn you all into… well, criminals. Do any of you know how to get to Senkai or the Realm of the Rear Door?”

“I’m heading to the village soon. I suppose I could talk to one of the hermits, but this book sounds like a more pressing concern.”

“Yeah, I’m sure we can handle whatever sexy powers you’ve got for a few hours. ’Sides, I’m kinda busy right now, but I’m sure Kyouko could help ya look around or something. Can’t promise you’ll find anything helpful, though.”

“I’m not helping ‘till she proves she wasn’t lying!”

“Oh, there you all are.” Shou walks back in. “Have they been helpful?”

“If you seek the Realm of Rear Doors, a visit to the Hakurei Shrine might be best.”

Shou sits down next to Ichirin. “Are you feeling better?”

“I am, thank you.”

“The drink’s still on offer, by the way. As is the training.”

“Hey, if you’re drinking, I’ll join ya.”

Ichirin frowns. “You said you were busy.”

“Yeah, but this is different!” Murasa turns to you. “’Sides, I know where Hijiri keeps the good stuff.” She stops. “Oh, hey, Shou. Naoko here says you had to fight Mystia off her. That true?”

“Mystia? Who was that again?”

“My friend! Someone who’d never do something like that!”

“Well, the attacker had fluffy pink hair and a night sparrow’s wings…”

Kyouko twitches. “But she didn’t actually try to rape her, right?”

Shou visibly sweats, offering a tight smile. “Well, if she didn’t, then she did a very good job of making it look like she did.”

Kyouko sulks. “Couldn’t have been Mystia. She’d never do something like that.”

You glance at Kyouko, who huffs and looks away. You’ve no idea how to adequately comfort her, given you yourself are the victim of her ‘friend,’ but you’d really rather she doesn’t fall for you while she’s still upset.

On the other hand, you still need to do something about your inability to fight off even weak youkai. And you still need a chance to rest your bruised and battered mind.

--------------------

[X] Drink. Whatever she’s after, Shou’s right about your mind.

[X] Training. You need to defend yourself somehow.

[X] Comfort. Try to at least calm Kyouko down.

[X] Seduce. Knowledge is power?

[X] Write-in.