
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/3950896.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      F/F, Gen, Multi
  Fandom:
      閃乱カグラ_|_Senran_Kagura
  Relationship:
      Mirai/Hikage, Mirai/Yomi, Mirai/Haruka, Mirai/Homura, Mirai/Suzune_|_Rin,
      Mirai/Harem
  Character:
      Mirai, Hikage, Yomi, Haruka, Homura, Suzune_|_Rin
  Additional Tags:
      Futanari, Self_Confidence_Issues, Body_Image, Angst_and_Fluff_and_Smut,
      Threesome_-_F/F/F, Foursome_-_F/F/F/F, Female_Friendship, Friends_to
      Lovers, Crack_Treated_Seriously, more_or_less, futanari_pseudo-loli_with
      a_harem
  Stats:
      Published: 2015-05-16 Updated: 2016-12-03 Chapters: 9/? Words: 22958
****** Perplexed ******
by EvilFuzzy9
Summary
     Hikage discovers something about Mirai that leaves her... at a loss.
***** The Discovery *****
Chapter Notes
     WARNING: This fanfic depicts activities of an adult nature between
     characters who would be minors in the real world. The author of this
     fic does not endorse such things being done by minors in real life,
     and in fact strongly discourages minors from reading this, and also
     from participating in any and all such activities until they are at
     the age of majority/consent as defined in the laws or customs of
     their state or principality.
     FUTANARI WARNING: This fanfic also contains content heavily
     fetishizing "futanari" or hermaphroditism. Originally male characters
     with female parts, or originally female characters with male parts,
     will likely abound. If this disturbs or disgusts you, then please
     kindly click the PAGE BACK button in your browser of choice.
See the end of the chapter for more notes
Hikage stared blankly at Mirai. Her eyes were affixed to a spot just below the
raven-haired pettanko's metaphorical belt. Slitted pupils flicked back and
forth, scanning uncomprehendingly over the thing dangling between the girl's
legs.
While she was not particularly given to feeling – or expressing – emotion,
Hikage imagined that she must have looked almost downright gobsmacked right
about now. She certainly felt a definite kind of disbelief, staring at Mirai's
penis.
Ah.
Yes.
She had a penis. Mirai had a penis.
Hikage wasn't sure how to take this. The analytical part of her mind noted,
with a sort of clinical detachment, that the organ was one of exceptional size,
particularly in relation to Mirai's overall body mass.
The nigh-emotionless verdette momentarily wondered whether, if she were someone
else, she would have found the contrast between Mirai's petite body and that
almost grotesquely large phallus comical.
A second later, she concluded that she would not.
For another moment, Hikage wondered if the presence of this organ meant that
Mirai was actually a male. It would certainly explain her flat chest, a part of
Hikage reasoned. But then her eyes flicked a little bit down, and a slight
shifting of Mirai's body weight caused her member to sway the slightest bit
sideways, exposing a tight vertical slit immediately below that ponderous
protuberance of a male sex organ.
Ah. So she also had a vagina.
Simultaneously, from two disparate parts of her mind, Hikage's brain produced a
pair of applicable terms. The scientific designation of hermaphrodite, as well
as the more colloquial slang term of futanari. One was either Greek or Latin in
origin – Hikage wasn't sure which – but the other was familiarly Japanese.
Both, she vaguely knew, meant basically the same thing, although they had
somewhat different connotations.
Hermaphrodite. This was, if she understood it correctly, the scientific
designation for a relatively benign mutation, or intra-womb hormone fuck up,
that caused an infant to be born with both male and female genitalia. It was,
as Hikage understood it, incredibly rare.
Futanari. This one she knew meant, more or less literally, "two genders". She
had only a very vague notion of this term's origin and connotations, but she
understood that among certain communities it was used in a very charged,
fetish-oriented fashion.
Hikage wasn't entirely certain which term would be more appropriate for this
case. 'Hermaphrodite' would be a pain in the ass for her to work her mouth
over, but 'futanari' felt a little too colloquial and familiar to use in this
situation.
In the end, she decided to take a third option.
"You have a penis," she said, once more meeting a mortified Mirai's eye.
The girl seemed to tense up a little bit more at Hikage's decidedly blunt
proclamation. She had been sitting there frozen in awkward silence for what
felt like several minutes, long old-fashioned skirt and and cute teddy bear
panties lying bunched up around her ankles. She still held that phallus in her
hand, stiffened up in fear, caught red handed as it were, in the act of self
pleasure.
A lingerie catalog lay forgotten on the linoleum floor, open to a dog-eared
page starring an underwear model with a strong superficial resemblance to
Haruka in a decidedly provocative pose. The margins were stained with white
blotches of an origin that Hikage felt fairly certain she could guess.
Mirai was sitting on the toilet, fem-boner in hand. This was the same position
she'd been in when Hikage had initially barged into the bathroom.
She had walked in on Mirai jerking off to a lingerie magazine. Not even porn
but a fucking Sears Catalog.
Hikage hadn't even known they stillprintedthose.
In hindsight, of course, Hikage supposed she should have guessed something like
this was going on. Not the penis thing, of course, but just the fact that Mirai
was masturbating. Hikage had trouble with handling complicated secondary
emotions, and many of the more advanced primary emotions, but she was no
stranger to LUST.
Not that she herself had ever really felt the need to do something so odd as
masturbate, but she had walked in variously on Haruka, Yomi, and even Homura
relieving stress and venting frustrations via self pleasure enough times to
know that this was just another thing normal people apparently did.
Although it hadn't been until Homura that Hikage had learned this was something
most people preferred to do without an audience. Yomi had no real concept of
personal space or privacy, coming from such poor living conditions as she had,
and Haruka was just... odd. So it had been up to Homura to set Hikage straight
on certain details of sharing living space with growing, hormonally charged
young women.
So after those first few encounters with Homura, Hikage probably should have
learned the signs. Most people apparently preferred to be left alone when
masturbating, and thus typically did it in normally private locations such as
the bathroom. She probably should have realized what Mirai was doing the second
she heard the moans.
But Hikage was also a shinobi, and it went against every instinct she had to
NOT act when she heard those noises coming from the bathroom. Academically, she
had known it was probably just Mirai dropping a stubborn deuce or something
else, but her shinobi training had taught her to never make assumptions. For
all she had known, a zennin, or an akunin from a rival faction, could have
somehow sneaked their way down into the heart of Hebijo to pick off member's of
the school's elite class.
Hell, it could have been their fellow schoolmates attempting to clear up a
space for advancement into the elite class. And while Hebijo prized individual
initiative, only an absolute idiot would stand by and let one of their comrades
be killed. Not when they had good odds of being able to successfully intervene
on their teammate's behalf.
Skilled ninja didn't grow on trees. Mirai was a member of the elite class for a
reason, and Hikage would be damned before she saw another one of her friends
killed.
... yes.
Her friends.
"You have a penis," Hikage absentmindedly repeated, staring curiously at the
member in question.
Mirai's cheeks reddened a little further. Her one eye flicked anxiously between
Hikage's twin amber lamps. Then it swiveled to look past the verdette for a
second, before a thoroughly mortified-looking Mirai buried her face in her
hands.
"Eeeeeaaaaaaahhh! Don't look!" she squealed, sounding absolutely humiliated.
Belatedly, Hikage became aware of the fact that the door was still open behind
her. She chanced a look back over her shoulder.
She saw Haruka, Homura, Yomi, and even Rin-sensei all staring disbelievingly
into the bathroom. All eight sets of eyes were locked onto Mirai's twitching,
veiny erection.
Hikage briefly wondered if this was what sympathy felt like.
"... ... ...ah, yes. Apparently, Mirai has a penis," she said lamely.
The others drooled.
Yeah.
This probably was sympathy.
Hikage felt sympathetic to the arousal of her friends.
Chapter End Notes
     A/N: What is with me and making pseudo-loli characters into futanari?
     First Futari wa "GOD DANCE", and now this. Dunno if I'll do anything
     more with this. For now I think it can stand on its own as just a
     silly, pointless little thing.
     With that said, it was interesting writing this with the perspective
     of a character like Hikage. Usually I tend to do characters who are
     very impulsive and emotional, but this was a neat change of pace.
     Updated: 7-25-14
     TTFN and R&R!
     – — ❤
***** Shock and Awe *****
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
They can see me.
Ba-dump. Ba-dump.
They can see it...
Ba-dump. Ba-da-bump.
They can see my...!
Thump. Thump. Thump.
Mirai tried in vain to cover herself. She brought her hands together over her
groin, striving futilely to cover her naked, throbbing erection. It was in
vain, however, as the source of the junior kunoichi's humiliation utterly
dwarfed her small, almost childlike hands.
It was not for no reason that Mirai usually wore such concealing garb. The
spacious, puffed out skirt of her shinobi outfit was perfect for covering up
any erections she might get during a battle, and even the well over knee-length
skirt of her school uniform left Mirai with plenty of room for tucking away her
secret shame.
But her skirt lay in a tangled mess around her ankles, and everyone could
already see it. Could already see her for what she really was.
Stupid!
She mentally berated herself, wanting to sob. She could barely fight back the
tears. She wanted so much to let it all go right in that moment.
Stupid, stupid, stupid! I never should have come in here. I should have waited
until I was back in my room... Dammit...!
Mirai couldn't bring herself to meet the others' eyes. Her own she squeezed
tightly shut against the hot pricking of tears, gritting her teeth and lowering
her head, letting dark bangs fall across her face.
She sniffed miserably, trying to will her erection down, to cover herself up
and hide that filthy thing of hers from her friends' sight. But she could do
neither.
And it would have been pointless anyways. They had already seen it.
They could still see it.
Her eye snapped open, half against her will. It scanned up, taking in the sight
of Hikage, Homura, Yomi, Suzune-sensei, and Haruka-sama. She saw how they
stared, how they looked at her in shock and disbelief, unable to tear their
eyes away from the spectacle of her penis.
A part of her, base and animal, felt pleased by their attention. Her erection
stiffened, twitching as a thrill of pleasure shot up through her petite frame.
Mirai shivered, her eye rolling back in her head for a fraction of a second.
Her tip was wet, moist with precum. Both of her slits – male and female –
leaked moisture. She could smell sex, her sex, the mingled scents of sweat,
female, and male hormones.
Mirai's nipples felt hard as rock. Her cheeks were burning red. Tear tracks
stained one half of her face.
She felt disgust, an icy flash of bitter, long-nurtured loathing for her own
hideous freak body.
Why was I born this way?
Mirai wanted to scream. She wanted to lash out, shout at them to leave her
alone, beg them not to hate her, run away and never come back.
"...There she is..."
"...yeah, it's her..."
"...she's the one with..."
"...no way..."
"...she's really a..."
"...gross..."
"...nasty..."
"...freak..."
"...pervert..."
"...deviant..."
Memories flooded Mirai's head. She heard all the muttered conversations of
schoolmates hurrying past her, remembered the uneasy looks, the distance
everyone kept from her. She could see the faces of all the girls who had
refused to change in the same room as her, all the boys who had stayed away
from her or called her gross.
Her ears burned with the memories of whispered rumors, volleyed taunts, and
lectures – yes, lectures – from the teachers who did nothing, all but outright
saying that it was her fault for not being able to fit in, that she shouldn't
expect special accommodations for such a rare condition, that she should just
suck it up and accept that she would never be accepted by her peers.
Mirai didn't even notice it when she sprang off the toilet seat and shoved past
her classmates, fleeing the bathroom, leaving her skirt and panties behind. She
was lost in bitter reminiscence, tasting bile in the back of her throat. She
felt sick. Her stomach roiled.
Hatred surged up inside her, the hate of a lonely, bullied child who wanted
nothing more than to fit in. She wanted to curse fate, to rail against heaven
and earth. She ran through the classroom, the common room of Hebijo's elite
class.
In the back of her mind, Mirai was aware of the stares following her,
judgemental eyes pursuing her half-naked form. Tears poured from her one good
eye, and she stumbled through the computer area. That shameful protrusion
swayed and bobbed between her legs, and so distraught was she that Mirai was
scarce even conscious of it when she barreled through the curtains of the
dressing room, out the back and into the extensive wardrobe storage beyond.
===============================================================================
Rin, a.k.a. "Suzune-sensei", was dimly aware of a pleasant warmth spreading
through her body as she watched Mirai's round, pale behind vanish into the
dressing room. Her cheeks were hot, and her breath came in faintly shuddering
gasps.
She closed her eyes, steadying her heartbeat. It went from a thunderous
hammering against her ribs to its accustomed lub-dub.
"Mirai... so it was like that, was it...?" she whispered quietly to herself,
opening her eyes once more.
In her mind she saw still the sizable phallus which had protruded from the
girl's crotch. A great, throbbing mass of hot, rigid flesh that might have
excited or enamored a more perverted – or less controlled – woman.
Rin shivered. She took a slow, deep breath and counted to ten.
Only years of hard-learned discipline kept the woman from following after her
student. The desire to comfort and reassure the obviously distressed lass was a
natural one, and something that would do Mirai no good in the long run. Rin had
learned as much from her own near-death experience, her failure as a zennin,
her need to go into hiding and become a rogue, an akunin, all due to the
sentimentality and ill-advised coddling of her mentor.
Not that Suzune could wholly blame the man for this. Even knowing what his
soft-heartedness had wrought, how it had all but sabotaged her training, it was
still hard, sometimes, for the woman to distance herself from her students.
Humans were social animals by nature, instinctually empathetic and gregarious
with those like themselves.
The more you knew a person, the more likely you were to sympathize with them.
As the teacher of these girls, their master and commander, Suzune knew them
almost better than they knew themselves.
She controlled her breathing, forcing herself to take a step back from the
situation. She hardened her heart, and looked at the matter from a logical
perspective.
Mirai was a hermaphrodite.
So what?
This shouldn't particularly impair her abilities. It wasn't a terminal or
debilitating condition. It didn't put the girl's mental health into immediate
question.
This will be good for her, thought Suzune, the cool and aloof instructor of
Hebijo's elite class. For all of them, maybe.
Mirai had a dick.
So what?
Assuming this changed the group dynamics – even assuming that any of the girls
became curious, inclined to experiment – it would be hasty and foolish to
automatically assume that Mirai's "condition" would do any particular harm.
Skilled shinobi adapted quickly, were able to adjust to sudden paradigm shifts.
In a world of lies and secrets, one could not afford to be caught off balance
by a sudden revelation. This abrupt discovery of Mirai's gender would make for
a good lesson, a fine test of how well her students could adapt to the sudden
upheaval of something they held as fact.
Suzune knew this would be an excellent object lesson in the subjectivity of
"truth", in the folly of assumption, and the naivety of accepting information
at face value.
Rin had faith that her students would be able to look past the superficial, and
see that Mirai was still the same person she had been yesterday.
And if this revelation spurred the girls into exploring their sexuality...
...well, so long as they didn't develop any unhealthy attachments, she would
not intervene. It was only healthy for women to experiment while they were
young, and a convenient outlet for emotional release could very well do them
some good.
Sex was a useful tool for kunoichi, both as a weapon, and a means of relaxing.
It could strike at their enemies weak points, and also shore up their own
vulnerabilities, energize them and relax them.
It was both a sword and shield.
... ... ... and it should also be amusing to see what kind of relationships
would develop from this. So with that in mind, Suzune glanced sidelong at the
other four members of the elite class.
She saw a strange gleam in Hikage's eyes, detected the subtle hints of arousal.
The verdette stared intently at the now-still curtain which led into the
dressing room. Her frame was also ever so slightly tense – although it would
have been wholly imperceptible to a person of lesser insight – almost as though
she was internally debating whether to go after Mirai.
Hikage was a very thoughtful and controlled person. Even now she was very
nearly emotionless, and not at all given to rash behavior or flights of fancy.
Yet at the same time she had few compunctions about more "immoral" deeds, and
very little care for societal conventions.
Haruka, Hikage's fellow third year, was all smiles and husky giggles, twinkling
eyes and licking lips. The buxom blonde, the absolute bustiest member of the
elite class, ran a hand through her elegantly styled hair, lightly caressing a
pink bow. Everything about Haruka's stance and expression bespoke arousal...
and amusement.
Haruka could be the most playful of the elite class, yet she was also a master
manipulator. She acted twisted and hedonistic – an almost theatrical caricature
of her inner self – to hide her insecurities, chief among which was a fear of
abandonment. She had not come from a happy household, and was possessed of an
almost frightening sadistic streak, but Rin knew that the young woman genuinely
cared for Mirai, her kouhai. She wouldn't do anything to seriously hurt the
girl.
...probably.
Yomi, rather like Haruka, seemed quite unconcerned about Mirai's penis. She
smiled and giggled, commenting absently that she would be happy to help Mirai
get her erection down. But where Haruka spoke with a touch of facetiousness, an
almost teasingly theatrical sensuality, Yomi was quite earnest, almost innocent
in her manner of speech.
Yomi, while nearly as buxom as Haruka, and fond of wearing similarly low-cut
battle gear, had nothing perverted about her. She was frank and cheerful, a
sweetheart to the core (if rather wearisomely obssessed with bean sprouts). If
she expressed a willingness to fellate her underclassman, it was entirely
sincere and with no ulterior motives.
Homura's eyes were wide, and her cheeks were deeply rosy. Her chest was
heaving, and she shivered visibly. Suzune could practically smell the confusion
and desire coming off of the young woman. She could read the conflicted desire
to go after Mirai and cheer her up, and perceive also a hint of self-denial, a
refusal to accept what her own body was telling her.
Homura was a natural leader, charismatic in a brusque and uncomplicated way.
She had a strong sense of responsibility for her classmates, and underneath the
prickly facade she had a heart of gold. She was a better person than many self-
proclaimed zennin, "Good Ninja", and yet also had the kind of ruthless ambition
that made an excellent akunin, or "Evil Ninja".
Rin did not doubt that Homura would go far, no matter what path she chose.
Suzune saw the spark of raw talent inside the young woman. But Homura still had
her own emotional baggage, and was obviously the one most conflicted about the
revelation of Mirai's true gender.
She was aroused, of course, but this arousal was tempered by a certain
awkwardness, an anxiety and fear of intimacy. The last time she let someone get
close to her, she had nearly been killed, and for killing her assailant had
been shunned by her family.
Rin didn't know whether to sigh or to smile. Suzune kept her expression stern,
betraying nothing. She would wait to see what happened next. Patience was a
crucial skill for shinobi. Discipline and restraint, a razor focus.
She hummed almost silently, eying her students and trying to guess who would go
after Mirai first. Whatever the outcome, it was sure to be entertaining.
===============================================================================
Chapter End Notes
     A/N: So, two reviewers wanted me to continue this, and another person
     fav'd and followed.
     However, I've decided to make this as different as possible from
     Futari wa "GOD DANCE", a.k.a. my OTHER "futanari pseudo-loli with a
     harem" fic. In particular, this will be much more introspective and
     character-driven – partly because this is my first time writing these
     characters, unlike in FwGD.
     Also, after writing up a rough twenty page outline for the end of A
     Lewd New World, I then did a fifteen page outline for this fic. Not
     all the way to the end, but enough to give me a general idea on where
     I want to take it for now.
     ...let's just say that some characters will need a lot of development
     before they'll be open to getting down with Mirai (coughhomuracough).
     Others will be much more liberal-minded.
     Lastly, because I am kinda tired of being unable to reply to
     anonymous reviewers, I'll just put my response to Anon-san here:
     To Anon-san:
     Thanks! I'm glad you think so. Haha, as much as I enjoy writing smut,
     I also enjoy exploring interesting characters. And this isn't even my
     first futanari fic – it's my second. XD
     Futari wa "GOD DANCE" is admittedly much sillier and tongue-in-cheek
     with this, of course, but it's got its fans. (And I should probably
     get working on another update for it, now that I mention it...)
     And futa!Rukia x Cirucci Sanderwicci... that seems like a rather
     random pairing. But it does pique my interest the tiniest bit. I
     might wind up giving it the old college try... but considering I did
     a grand total of three classes at community college for a single
     semester before growing all but wholly disillusioned with "higher
     learning", I can't guarantee anything will come of it. ;P
     TTFN!
     Updated: 7-27-14
     TTFN and R&R!
     – — ❤
***** Angst and Assurance *****
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
Mirai shuddered. A low moan escaped her lips.
She sobbed, her chest heaving.
Her breath hitched. Tears streamed down her cheek, hot and wet. They stung her
eye.
Mirai's face was buried in her hands, her half-naked form curled up behind a
clothes rack in the spacious, expansive wardrobe that lay in the back of the
Hebijo elite class's changing room. The smooth fabric of a french maid outfit –
all low neck, high skirt, and frilly lace – brushed against the back of Mirai's
head.
She was in a fetal position. Her dick, still painfully erect, rubbed against
her own thighs, her knees brought up nearly to her chest. Her pert, bare bottom
squished minutely against the floor.
Her eye was red and puffy, her nose running. Her hair was a mess, and her cheek
was raw and splotchy, sore and sticky from tear tracks.
She looked dreadful. Absolutely miserable.
They know, she thought morosely, sniffling.They know about it... they've seen
it... my penis!
Mirai gave another shiver.
Despite the excited state of her member, she did not feel particularly randy.
Not anymore. Despite her dick getting harder and harder, Mirai did not notice
the least bit of arousal.
Desire she felt not. Lust she felt not.
Only misery did she feel.
Misery and despair.
It's just like back then, in middle school, when the girls saw it... Mirai
thought. After gym class, when we were changing our clothes, and my panties...
She let out a weak whine.
Mirai shrank a little more into herself. She felt cold – not numb, but
perfectly aware of every little stab and twinge of biting pain.
...yes. Pain.
Her body was not injured, but today ill chance had dealt her heart a wound most
grievous, a wound from which she might never recover.
The other girls in the elite class were Mirai's friends: her kind and generous,
helpful and supportive sempai. She admired and looked up to every single one of
them in some way or other. They had helped her come out of her shell, come into
her own as a kunoichi-in-training, an apprentice akunin.
They had been so nice to her, in their own way, and Mirai wasn't sure what she
would do without them. But the good times were over now, she was sure of it. No
more milk and honey.
They had seen her dick. They knew her most dire and lurid secret.
Her sempai knew she was a futanari, a hermaphrodite. It was too late now to
tell the truth or make excuses. They saw her cock. They had seen her erection.
It was over. She had no more future as an akunin, she was sure of it.
It was too late.
Mirai wished it had never come to this. She wished she could have taken this
secret with her to the grave, no matter how impossible it might have been. She
didn't want her friends to reject her, to be disgusted by what she was.
Hermaphrodite.
What a nasty, loathsome word. It was the source of all her troubles.
Why did she have to be a shi, a hir? It galled her to be considered something
other than a girl or a boy. To be treated like something extra, an aberration,
an afterthought.
Those words made her feel hideous, unclean, unnatural.
There were boys, and there were girls. In an ideal world, as far as Mirai was
concerned, this was all the classification you would need. But this was not an
ideal world. Mirai was neither a boy nor a girl.
She was a freak. A godforsaken futanari.
Nobody liked that. Who could possibly like someone like her? Boys were unnerved
by her penis. The last and only time she had ever tried to ask a guy out, back
in middle school, he had completely shot her down. He was unable to handle the
fact that she had a dick.
The girls in gym class refused to shower or change clothes in the same room as
her. They said it was weird that she had that "nasty thing" dangling between
her legs – they said she was basically a guy. They couldn't trust her not to
try something funny, or look at them with lustful eyes, they said, no matter
how small and nonthreatening she may have seemed.
Boys didn't like her. They were grossed out when they learned of the thing
between her legs, said she wasn't a real girl. So she tried to become one of
the boys, but then they said that she wasn't a real boy, either, and that it
was just weird.
They said she wasn't a girl, despite have girl parts, a girl's mind and
mentality, despite being a girl in all but one way... and where that one thing
was sufficient to disqualify her as female, all of the rest made her flatly not
a guy.
So what, then, was she? Where did she truly belong?
Mirai didn't know. She was she, was she not? That was how she saw herself, or
maybe how she WANTED to see herself.
It was so frustrating, so unfair. She had considered taking matters into her
own hands before, fixing the mistake she felt God to have made. But every time
Mirai had tried to do it in the past, she had lost her nerve at the last
second.
She just didn't have it in her.
Perhaps the girls at her old school were right. Maybe Mirai was a perverted
deviant. No matter how she may have tried to deny her penis in the past, it
didn't change the fact that she greatly enjoyed looking at her sempais' bodies.
She had certainly ogled the other members of the elite class enough times in
the past.
Sure, initially she had justified this to herself as jealousy, an anxiety over
being surrounded by such gorgeous bombshells, particularly when they were all
so buxom while she was, well... as flat as a board. But... this excuse no
longer covered everything she did, did it?
Not since that dream she'd had about Haruka-sama.
Mirai could no longer remember the exact contents of that dream, aside from a
vague impression of eroticism, of heat and ache, of sweat and passion, of
grunting, moaning, groaning voices, bodies coming together in a secret tryst,
expressing a forbidden desire, losing themselves in the heat of the moment.
That, and the impression of pressure all over her dick, a wondrously
constricting tightness, follow by the sensation of a final POP. Then she woke
up to a wet and sticky pair of panties, sweaty and breathing heavily.
The only other memory she could dredge up about the dream was some dim
recollection of saying very rude and degrading things to Haruka-sama. The
vaguely guilty pleasure of calling the most buxom and sensual of her sempai all
kinds of obscene names, disrespecting the woman in every way but honorific.
(Even in Mirai's naughtiest dreams, Haruka-sama was still Haruka-sama.)
Of course, the other girls had featured in her secret fantasies since then, as
well. Homura, Hikage, and Yomi were all attractive, unfairly sexy in their own
respective ways. And despite everything else she might have said about hating
her penis, Mirai definitely found the things it felt when she thought about her
fellow elite class members to be most pleasant and agreeable.
Usually Mirai wished she had been born a girl. Sometimes she wished she had
been born a guy. And, very rarely, she wished simply to be accepted for who –
and what – she really was.
If you know what I mean.
Mirai blushed, and she shook her head. Her eyelid was heavy, and her head
drooped intermittently. A piteous sniffle escaped her. She was the very picture
of wretchedness, wearing nothing but a uniform blouse – a top, with no bottom –
and hugging the hem of a criminally short-skirted french maid uniform to her
bosom like a lacy, fetishistic security blanket.
Combined with the erection she was sporting, a part of Mirai weakly mused that
she must truly look like a fool, or else some kind of pervert.
She sighed.
"I'm awful..." the petite apprentice ninja whispered to herself, shaking her
head sadly. "It's no wonder nobody likes me."
Just then, a voice interjected on her self-pity.
"Ohhh? But Ilike you, Mirai-chan." The voice was sweet and musical, sounding
almost angelic to the depressed chit's ears. She recognized it immediately.
"You're my precious, adorable underclassman, after all~!"
Mirai looked up and turned her head to face in the direction from which the
voice came. Just as she expected, it was none other than the Beautiful Baroness
of Bean Sprouts herself.
"Y-Yomi...sempai...?!" Mirai yelped, her eye going wide.
The buxom, once-impoverished blonde smiled beatifically down at the raven-
haired cyclops. She met Mirai's gaze with an unmistakable warmth in her
expression.
Mirai blinked, looking up at Yomi. She matched her sempai's gaze with a quiet,
fearful squeak, momentarily frozen in shock.
Yomi's eyes flicked downward, peering now clearly below the belt. So to speak.
Mirai panicked. With a yelp, she yanked the maid dress off of its hanger,
ripping the shoulders, and flung the garment frantically over her naked lower
half. It was just enough to cover up the angsting hermaphrodite's sexes.
Yomi, to Mirai's complete surprise, pouted.
"Awww," the older girl whined, cutely sticking out and curling her lower lip.
"Won't you let me see it again, Mirai-chan? I didn't get a very good look last
time."
She batted her eyelashes, giving Mirai the sweetest and most innocent
expression she could manage.
Despite her misgivings, the raven-haired lass knew her sempai well enough to
know that, for all her quirks, Yomi was not one to do things halfheartedly.
Aside from this knowledge, she could also readily see the flush in the young
woman's cheeks, and the way she leaned ever so slightly forward, arching her
back and shifting a little bit from one foot to another.
She was excited.
In more than more than one sense of the word.
Mirai shook her head, more just in expression of disbelief than an actual
answer. Her eye was wide, and her mouth hung wide open. She gaped at her
upperclassman, uncertain how to take the woman's words.
"Y-You... actually want to see it?" she stared at Yomi, uncomprehending. "Why?
Isn't it... disgusting...?"
Yomi giggled at this question, looking beautifully serene, deceptively regal.
The musical tinkle of her sempai's laughter gave Mirai goosebumps in the best
possible sense of the phrase. In an instant, the young girl's face went from
ashen white to cherry red.
The maid dress strewn across Mirai's lap stirred a little, the fabric shifting
infinitesimally over a visible bulge.
Yomi noticed this, and the glint of hunger in her eyes was unmistakable. She
licked her lips.
"Not at all!" the second-year chirped, beaming at her adorable kouhai. "Even if
you bundled up a whole pound of bean sprouts, you wouldn't have something as
big or as beautiful as the thing you've got between your legs."
Mirai sweatdropped at this. She didn't even notice the sense of malaise
beginning to leave her, or the doubts starting to melt away.
Is that... meant as a COMPLIMENT...? she couldn't help but sheepishly wonder,
quietly considering Yomi's words.
"I thought you said you didn't get a good look at it, though," she absently
responded to her sempai's words. "How can you be sure it's really..."
Mirai nervously gulped.
"...beautiful?"
Yomi smiled at the girl. She clasped her hands, slender fingers delicately
threading together. Her arms came together under a sizable bust – nearly as
large as Haruka-sama's – pushing her breasts up underneath the fabric of her
school uniform, causing the large and pillowy mounds to squish and deform so
interestingly under their own weight.
Mirai couldn't help staring at the sight. Her face was burning, lit up like an
oil lamp.
Her lips suddenly felt oh so painfully dry.
Yomi's smile widened ever so slightly. Her eyes twinkled.
"If it's Mirai-chan's..." she posed softly, brightly, "...how could it ever be
anything else?"
Those words pierced the first-year's breast like an arrow.
Cupid's arrow, to be exact.
Mirai spluttered, and averted her gaze shyly, anxiously. She felt incredibly
self-conscious of her present state now, but in a decidedly different way than
before. It was a warm sort of anxiety, shivers racing across her skin.
She licked her lips, trying to stop them from feeling so dry. Risking a glance
back at her upperclassman, Mirai tilted her head ever so slightly to once more
face in Yomi's direction.
Yomi was leaning forward, much-too-comfortably close to Mirai. Her breasts were
practically right in the girl's face, and had the blonde been wearing her
shinobi battle outfit, Mirai would have had a perfect view of her expansive
cleavage, straight down Yomi's blouse.
Mirai gulped, and "something" stirred under the maid uniform on her lap. Her
blush deepened.
Yomi did not miss this. She beamed down at her kouhai, an already pretty face
seeming even more beautiful as she peered at the tent that had been pitched in
Mirai's lap. The expression on her face gave the brunette butterflies.
Mirai's stomach flipped and flopped in her abdomen, her heartbeat racing. Her
worries seemed to fall away, gazing into Yomi's eyes. She could see the honesty
there, the earnest curiosity, as well as the warmth of a kind, supportive
spirit.
The raven-haired gothic lolita felt a pleasant warmth in her breast. She smiled
softly.
"O...okay," she said quietly, glancing down into her lap as she spoke. "I'll
let you... I'll show it to again, if you really want to see it."
Yomi nodded eagerly, and she giggled once more.
"I do~" was her answer, and Mirai gave a sort of half nod at this.
"Okay," the girl said, taking a deep breath and counting to ten. "Okay," she
repeated. "L-Let's do this."
Mirai gripped the fabric of the maid uniform in her fingers. It was soft,
smooth and silky in her hands. She shivered a little at the sensation of the
cloth shifting and rubbing against her member as she started to pull, slowly at
first.
Her penis throbbed mightily, a heavy ache in her loins. The desire to fill, and
be filled, was nearly all Mirai could feel in that moment. She was aroused,
yes. Yes, she was getting excited, feeling a perverse thrill of anticipation as
she lifted the dress up from her lap. Her erection was as hard as she could
ever remember it being, so stiff and rigid that it physically hurt.
Shivers of delight raced up Mirai's spine, and she was dimly aware of her
breath coming in short pants. Goosebumps erupted all over her skin, her heart
pounding thunderously in her breast. She watched Yomi's eyes, saw how they
followed the movement of her hands with an almost trance like fixation.
There was a tightness in Mirai's chest.
She really wants to see it... she thought. She wants this. And... maybe...
Mirai gulped, and mentally shook herself. No. Now was NOT the time for such
thoughts!
She would save those outlandish fantasies for a later date, when they would
actually be useful for her.
Casting the french maid combat uniform aside, Mirai completely exposed her
lower body. She stared hopefully, anxiously into Yomi's eyes, the pessimistic
part of her waiting for the other shoe to drop, for the disgust to manifest,
for Yomi's expression to twist in anger and dismay now that she had a real look
at Mirai's disgusting thing.
But it never came.
Yomi continued to smile. Indeed, her lips seemed to curl up even further now
that she had a good, up close view of her junior's erect penis. Her eyes
twinkled brightly, flicking eagerly up and down every inch of Mirai's ponderous
cock. It was almost like Yomi was trying to commit every detail of her kouhai's
penis to memory, wanting to see it and experience it from every possible angle.
But that was preposterous.
...right?
"Oh, my!" Yomi squealed girlishly, wiggling her hips in excitement. Her skirt
flared, swishing and fluttering dangerously suggestively this way and that.
"It's even more gallant than I expected!"
The blond unthreaded her fingers, and she clapped her hands. With her arms
still underneath her bosom, this action caused some very intriguing reactions.
Mirai watched the bouncing of Yomi's breasts, feeling not jealous but...
something else. She barely even registered her sempai's odd choice of words, so
completely fascinated with the movement of the beautiful blonde's bountiful
bosom.
At least until she heard what Yomi said next.
"Can I touch it?"
Chapter End Notes
     A/N: Many thanks to everyone who has favorited, followed, and
     especially reviewed so far. It's been a while since I've put this
     much character development into an intended smutfic from the very
     beginning. Hehehe... next chapter, though, should finally have some
     actual smuttiness. At least a little. ;)
     But, man... this chapter not only had an outline, but ALSO a rough
     draft... so that's a lot of room for tweaking and fine-tuning.
     And we got our internet connection back right around when I finished
     typing this chapter. Clearly, this fanfic is fate! XD
     Updated: 7-31-14
     TTFN and R&R!
     – — ❤
***** Exploration, Experimentation *****
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
"Mm... She's adorable, isn't she?"
Hikage blinked. Slow and bleary.
She turned her head to look sidelong at Haruka, her face the usual mask of
expressionlessness. Yellow, serpentine eyes coolly assessed the buxom third-
year. For all the world, she seemed to be completely emotionless.
A cold-blooded killer.
But Haruka knew her classmate better than that. She smiled at Hikage, meeting
her fellow third-year's eyes. The verdette was standing awkwardly in the
computer area, noticeably close to the dressing room.
Hikage wasn't tech savvy by any stretch of the imagination. She didn't use
computers. Virtual reality was outside her element.
She wouldn't be standing there without a very good reason.
Even if her face was expressionless, Haruka could tell from the slightest
tension in Hikage's frame that the girl was worried. Perhaps the woman herself
didn't consciously realize it, but to Haruka it was clear that the knife expert
was concerned.
She probably felt anxious about Mirai, on some subconscious level.
Most people who interacted with Hikage made the assumption that the young woman
was truly emotionless. Even most of her fellow elite class members accepted
what they saw at face value. But not Haruka.
She knew better.
Humans weren't machines. Emotions weren't a feature you could switch on or off.
As a mistress of poisons, perfumes, and mind-altering chemicals, Haruka
perfectly understood the chemistry of the "heart".
Emotions were chemical reactions. Hormones were released into the endocrine
system as biological messengers, signals from the brain to the body, from the
body to the brain. Fear, anger, satisfaction, lust. All of these were governed
by specific molecules, chemicals that primed the body in response to the
brain's judgements.
Emotions were an inherent part of cognition, human or otherwise – a fundamental
adaptation of the animal neurology underlying basic sentience. Intelligence was
not a matter of cool, rational calculation. The brain wasn't designed to think
objectively.
You couldn't shut off emotions. Even if you could, to do so would be the very
antithesis of beneficial. If a person never felt hunger, they wouldn't eat. If
they never felt satisfied, they wouldn't stop eating. If they didn't feel fear,
they wouldn't recognize danger. If they didn't feel anger, they wouldn't stand
and fight. Without lust, there would be no desire to procreate.
Emotions regulated behavior, dictated human nature. Loneliness made people seek
out others, caused humans to live in social groups. Happiness gave people a
sense of a job well done – without that rush of satisfaction, the anticipation
of that biochemical high surging through your system once you finished, there
would be no motivation to do anything.
A person could no more live without emotions than they could without short term
memory or higher brain function. They were a fundamental aspect of
neurobiology, inherent in all forms of life to some degree or other.
Hikage was not truly emotionless.
That was impossible. Haruka knew this, even if Hikage herself had forgotten.
"Who?" Hikage said, her voice sounding as dry and monotonous as ever. "Mirai?"
She shrugged, a lazy gesture with no committment behind it. "I dunno. I guess."
Haruka giggled.
"Oho? You only guess?" Her eyes twinkled, and she smiled teasingly, sensually
at her classmate. "I could say a great deal more than that, and with perfect
certainty too. A girl is at her cutest when she acts a little shy❤"
Hikage stared at Haruka.
"That must make you pretty disgusting, then," she said dryly.
Sarcasm.
Or maybe she meant it seriously.
But either way, Haruka laughed. Her exposed midriff, smooth and lean, reacted
visibly to the spasms of her diaphragm. Her breasts – hands down the largest in
their class – jiggled like a bowl full of jelly, the motion perfectly apparent
even through the fabric of her black uniform blouse.
"My, what a tongue you have, Hikage-chan," Haruka chortled, smiling lustily at
her comrade and classmate. She winked suggestively. "Fufu... but I imagine you
could put it to a much better use. Isn't that right? You certainly looked
interested enough in Mirai-chan's pe—"
She was cut off. Her speech was interrupted by a sound, something almost
between a strangled yelp and wheezing cough.
A pause.
Haruka blinked. She took a moment to process what she was seeing.
She stared at Hikage's face.
A moment passed between them in silence.
Haruka's jaw hung slightly agape, caught frozen in a weakly twitching half-
smile. She couldn't believe what she was seeing.
Hikage was blushing.
Blushing.
Sure, it was only the lightest, faintest dusting of pink in the edges of her
cheeks, but the point still stood. Hikage was blushing.
Another moment passed, and Haruka regained composure. Recovered from her shock.
She smiled wider than ever.
"Ohoho. Now this is interesting..." she purred.
Hikage looked away from Haruka. She fidgeted.
"I don't have any idea what you're talking about," she lied.
There was just the faintest quiver in her voice.
===============================================================================
At the same time this was going on, Mirai was staring at Yomi.
"Can I touch it?"
Those words echoed in the girl's mind, reverberated off the insides of her
skull, bounced on her brain and mashed any semblance of logical thinking into a
fine pulp. All she could think was she really wants to touch it oh my god, and
it took every ounce of the young kunoichi's willpower to keep her from
immediately shouting YES.
Her erection throbbed, as though personally aware of Yomi's gaze. Mirai's dick
seemed to have its mind already made up, and her pussy did not seem to begrudge
the phallus all of this attention. They were both fellow members of the lass's
body, after all.
Mirai felt her cheeks burn red hot as her brain processed Yomi's words. She
analyzed the statement from every possible angle, considering the intonation,
the context, and the literal verbal content. Her heart was pounding in her
chest.
Her one red eye met Yomi's soft gaze. She saw the warmth in her sempai's
expression, a gleam of genuine and undisguised fascination.
Despite herself, Mirai nodded her head. Her pulse raced.
"Y-Yeah..." she said slowly, giving her answer. "Sure, you can."
The long-haired first-year felt like you could have fried an egg right there on
her face. Her cheeks were redder than a tomato, and her knees felt like jelly
beneath her.
Yomi clapped her hands together with a cheery giggle. "Oh, thank you! I've
never touched a real one before!"
And, saying this, the blonde reached out. A slim hand – pale and delicate in
appearance, but with a firm, unyielding grip – wrapped around Mirai's shaft.
Everything the lass thought she knew about sex went right out the window with
that first touch. It was absolutely unreal, completely unlike even the most
vivid wet dream.
To have such a beautiful young woman as Yomi touching her penis, running her
fingers curiously up and down its length, tracing the bulging veins, following
the slightest creases in smooth and velvety skin, pressing her fingertips ever
so slightly into the unyielding hardness, gingerly testing the rigidity...
It sent shivers up Mirai's spine. She gasped.
"A-Ah...!"
A single eye went wide. Cute lips parted in a small O. Mirai shuddered, and the
most adorable squeal escaped her mouth.
"N-Nyaaaah...! Yomi... Hnnnngh!"
Yomi smiled at Mirai. She saw the expression on her junior's face, and couldn't
help but feel a touch of giddiness.
"My, my~" she cooed. "Does my touch really excite you that much, Mirai-chan?"
A single, subtly calloused finger lightly circled the lip of the young
brunette's foreskin. The cute cyclops shivered, squeaking and grunting. Mirai
squirmed, grasping at the fabric of her uniform blouse. Cloth furrowed and
creased as the umbrella-gunslinger dragged her fingers over her own petite
frame.
"Uwaaa... awawawaaa..." Mirai moaned, her breaths coming slow and heavy. "H-
Hot... I feel so hot...!"
She gripped the hem of her shirt, tugging frantically. Stitches began to pop,
and the top started to come undone at the seams. Mirai was quite literally
tearing her clothes off, ripping the shirt straight from her torso as she
writhed and groaned.
Yomi continued to touch and test her kouhai's penis. Even as she watched Mirai,
out of the corner of her eyes, beginning to anxiously cup and fondle her own
breasts, the blonde persisted in exploring the girl's dick.
The tip was slick with moisture, precum. Yomi rubbed her palm over the
sensitive meatus of Mirai's cock, moistening the skin along her love and life
lines. She inhaled deeply, sniffing the heady odor of pheromones: her
underclassman's mingled sexes.
"Exciting," Yomi mused, half to herself, eyes twinkling. "This is so much
bigger than anything you'd see in a textbook..."
And it was – a fair deal larger.
Yomi reckoned that such a phallus would have seemed large on a full grown man,
let alone dangling from Mirai's slight, diminutive frame. It had to be twenty
centimeters long, nearly a full eight inches, and it was no slim rapier,
either. This hunk of hot, solid, pulsating flesh was like her greatsword: long,
thick, and just massive overall.
Looking at it made her stomach twist in a most fascinating way.
Yomi licked her lips. She could probably count the individual beats of Mirai's
heart, just with how powerfully the girl's erection throbbed in her hands. It
was quite thoroughly engorged, hard as rock. Yet the skin felt smooth,
possessing a pleasant, almost silky texture.
She gripped the penis firmly, grasping it as confidently as she would the
handle of her sword. And Mirai was much reminded of Yomi's swordsmanship in the
way the girl handled her dick. Her movements were straightforward, powerful and
confident. Rough and coarse, in a way, and yet there was also a certain,
undeniable grace to the way her fingers danced up and down the pulsing length.
Her handiwork would have brought the lass to her knees, if she hadn't already
been on her ass. As it was, Mirai was blindly squirming and squeezing her own
small breasts, cupping the almost nonexistent nubs and rolling them in her
palms, sharply pinching cute pink nipples between her fingers.
Mirai writhed in agonizing delight, her slim and slight body wracked with mind
numbing pleasure. Yomi's hands were incredible. The girl's fingers were fucking
magical. That she hadn't already come all over the blonde's shirt was nothing
short of a miracle.
"Unnngh... Yomi... ahhhn...!" she gasped. Her buttocks mashed against the
floor, smooth and pale cheeks sliding suggestively across a dark, polished
hardwood surface. A small puddle formed between her legs, nectar dripping
liberally from the lass's excited young pussy.
Yomi watched this, enraptured by Mirai's body. She examined all the subtle ways
in which the girl responded to her ministrations. Particularly where it related
to Mirai's penis.
"So cute~" she chirped, beaming at the petite first-year. She stroked up and
down the lass's shaft, squeezing and firmly gripping her junior's cock.
The two of them were too absorbed in their explorations to notice a third
presence intruding on the spacious wardrobe. Neither one of them felt the eyes
on their bodies.
Nor did they perceive it when the figure turned and sneaked back out, slipping
up into a gap between ceiling tiles.
Homura's face was a vibrant shade of maroon.
Chapter End Notes
     A/N: Maybe it's just me, but between pussy and vagina, I feel like
     the latter sounds more... vulgar? Pussy has a pleasant sound when
     spoken, and looks nicer – to my senses – when written. It also has a
     nice sort of duality with penis, sounds similar yet different, like
     two sides of the same coin.
     Vagina, in contrast, just feels clumsy and unwieldy. Especially the
     long i in the middle. It just doesn't flow as well into a sentence as
     pussy does. It is one word that I just greatly dislike using.
     Is that odd? I greatly prefer the slang terms of pussy, and even
     cunt, to the more technical vagina. Womanhood, blossom, maiden-head
     are more poetic, of course, but pussy is just a good all-rounder,
     both sexual AND practical.
     I also mentally assign "cock" the highest value of bald sexuality and
     vulgarity out of the male trio, with dick having a sound or
     connotation that works well with humor, and penis feeling the least
     sexual, but most classy. Well, until you get into stuff like
     "manhood", or "hardness", but that's almost a whole other category.
     ...I'm not sure what it says about me and my writing that I've put
     this much thought into my preferences on names for genitalia. XD
     Updated: 8-5-14
     TTFN and R&R!
     – — ❤
***** Confusion and Acceptance *****
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
Laundry's a real pain in the ass.
This thought, random as it might seem, was the first thing to cross Homura's
mind once she was back in the ceiling crawlspace. She was on her hands and
knees, breathing in the hot, stagnant air. Dust was in her hair, and covering
the back of her skirt – it was all over her clothes.
It dark and cramped, a tight fit, and she grimaced a little bit every time she
felt her butt hit the roof of the crawlspace. This was not somewhere Homura
liked to be, but there were almost no other ways to get around the elite
class's quarters unseen.
Not for the first time, the swarthy kunoichi silently bemoaned the rather
overgenerous size of her chest. Her boobs rubbed against the crawlspace floor –
the topside of the ceiling tiles, and the framework into which they fit –
squishing uncomfortably inside her blouse and giving her some unpleasantly
exciting feedback. The bandages she used to bind her chest were no silken bra,
and their modestly coarse texture was presently all too noticeable to the young
woman.
Homura was painfully aware of the stiffness of her nipples. She felt with a
shameful clarity the warm, sticky dampness in her underwear. Her stomach was
still tingling a little as she recalled the scene she had come across just
moments earlier.
This is so messed up...
Her cheeks were burning as she thought about it. The images had seared
themselves into her retina, and she could see the scene replaying itself on the
inside of her eyelids.
Yomi knelt before Mirai. The latter was naked, and the former was smiling.
Slender hands gripped and squeezed a long, thick, pulsating phallus. Yomi's
hands stroked up and down, caressing and exploring every inch of Mirai's shaft.
Homura shivered at the memory, but not out of fear, or disgust.
Arousal.
She blushed fiercely, feeling ashamed at the mere thought. It galled Homura to
think she would have such a reaction to the scene. The moisture, the warmth,
the slightly niggling ache between her legs... all of this burned at her
conscience, and her pride.
Mirai was a hermaphrodite. This fact had been revealed to Homura and the rest
of the elite class today, in a way that obviously upset and distressed the poor
girl. Clearly Mirai had a complex about her true gender – she would not have
hidden it so long, if she hadn't – and if this was the case, then Homura saw it
as her responsibility to help Mirai work through those issues.
At a time like this she needed to be there, to give her underclassman emotional
support. That was Homura's unspoken obligation as Mirai's sempai... but she
wasn't able to do it.
She was too ashamed of herself.
Getting turned on by Mirai's body was counterproductive. How could she be there
for the poor thing, Homura asked herself, if she couldn't look at her –
couldn't even THINK of her – without getting horny? It was humiliating. There
wasn't anything she could do to help Mirai.
Not like this.
Almost, it seemed like... Homura just didn't know how to approach this problem.
In the past, when Mirai had similar emotional outbursts, she had been able to
talk to the lass about how they weren't so different, about how plenty of
people had problems like hers, but this was something else. Homura couldn't
even pretend to understand what it must be like for Mirai.
Homura was a girl. She had been born a girl, raised a girl. In all likelihood,
she would die a girl. There were billions of people like her: almost half of
all humanity, even. As far as gender, sexuality, Homura knew where she stood,
what she was. Of all the anxieties she'd ever had, her gender was one thing
Homura had never doubted, never felt insecure about.
She was a girl. She knew what she liked. She knew what she would want, and
could expect to get, from a sexual encounter. Whether it was with a man, or a
woman...
Homura blushed.
In an all-girl's academy like Hebijo, it was natural for teenagers to do a
little... experimentation... probably. Surrounded by nubile females in the
prime of youth, hormones rushing through their bodies, sexual frustration at
its peak, it was to be expected that some would awaken to other possibilites.
Not that she was an out-and-out lesbian, mind you. Homura'd had her share of
fantasies, but at the end of the day she was straight.
...probably.
She liked cock, at least. And perhaps this was a grossly vulgar way of putting
it, but when Homura thought of the future, of possible romance, settling down,
marriage, she thought of men. She wasn't homophobic, or averse to the idea of
doing it with another girl, but that was not her primary interest. At the most,
she occasionally entertained the notion that her classmates might turn her on a
little.
But what Homura felt right now was FAR more than just a little. She was soaking
wet. Her panties were drenched straight through, the cotton saturated with her
nectar, and she felt hot and tight all over inside, especially in her abdominal
region. It was all she could do to keep from moaning every time her butt bumped
the low ceiling of the crawlspace, from whimpering for every inch of tile her
breasts were dragged across.
She was horny, aroused, turned on. It was shameful, how much she wanted to go
back and... do something. She wanted Mirai, and she felt an unquenchable need
to make the girl want her in turn. She wanted to throw Yomi off of the girl,
yank down her own panties, straddle Mirai's hips and impale herself on the
first-year like a wild boar on a spit.
Homura didn't even care how forced that simile was, she was just that horny. It
was very nearly more than she could stand. She wanted to get hot and heavy with
Mirai, wanted to do all sorts of disgustingly shameless things with the girl.
The base, animalistic portion of Homura's brain wanted nothing more than to
spread her legs and...
She blushed, and shook her head.
"No, don't think about that, Homura," she whispered to herself quietly. She
could tell her destination was just ahead. "Get a hold of yourself. This is
Mirai we're talking about... she's our classmate. Our kouhai. I... I could
never take advantage of her like that."
But what if Mirai took advatage of YOU? A stubborn, perverted, contrarian part
of her mind whispered. What if Mirai overpowered you, and threw you down, and
had her wicked way with you? Mmhmhm... would it be alright THEN?
Homura's cheeks burned even hotter at the mental image her brain conjured up.
It was one part comical, and two parts erotic. The difference in size and
physical strength between her and Mirai was considerable, to say the least, and
even besides that...
"Mirai isn't that kind of person," Homura said under her breath, surely
convinced of what she was saying. "She wouldn't take advantage of her friends."
They say it's impossible for true friendship to form between a man and a
woman,her mind retorted.
"Mirai isn't a man."
She isn't a woman, either. And you saw how Yomi was jerking her off.
"That's Y-Y-Yomi's business, n-not mine..." Homura stammered weakly, her face
practically glowing in the dark.
Which one do you suppose was being taken advantage of?
Homura winced inwardly, reminded of her own wording. "Yomi isn't that kind of
woman. I'm sure... I'm sure it's mutual..."
For some reason, saying this made her feel almost... disappointed. Like she was
conceding a victory to someone else.
Homura refused to scrutinize the possible reasons behind this emotion.
But then, could not something...mutual... happen between you and Mirai, too?
"..."
Homura was stubbornly silent. She refused to argue with herself anymore about
this.
She had finally reached her destination.
===============================================================================
White on black.
Stars in a night sky. Snow on asphalt.
Yomi giggled at the embarrassed expression on Mirai's face. She was smiling
warmly, and her cheeks had a healthy pink flush. Mirai was redder than a
tomato.
"S-S-Sorry!" the brunette yelped, abashed. "I... I didn't think I'd..."
Mirai trailed off with a squeak. Her one eye was looking up at Yomi with all
the wretched penitence of a kicked dog, lower lip quivering. It was almost
criminal, how cute that lass could look. Yomi just wanted to gobble her right
up!
"Oh? Why are you apologizing?" the blonde sweetly inquired, clasping her hands
and cutely tilting her head to one side. "You didn't do anything wrong."
Mirai felt her heart skip a beat.
"Buh," she said eloquently, staring blankly at Yomi's smiling face. After a
second, however she weakly shook her head, recovering her senses. "But, your
shirt—!"
"I think it looks better this way," Yomi interjected. "I makes me happy to know
you like me that much, Mirai-chan. This stain is like a proof of your love❤"
"L-L-Love...?!" Mirai yelped, her eye widening. Steam could have been shooting
from her ears, and it wouldn't have looked out of place. "I... I love you...?"
she whispered, blushing more deeply than ever at the thought of this.
Yomi smiled.
"The moon is beautiful, isn't it?" she said warmly.
Her lips brushed against Mirai's. An electric jolt surged through their bodies,
and the blonde quietly moaned. Her lips tingled sublimely at the touch of
Mirai's skin, so soft and warm.
Mirai's blush lessed, and she smiled a little dreamily. Her sole red eye met
Yomi's twin sapphires with a gentle gleam, almost too hopeful to bear. A tear
welled up, tracing a slow and meandering path down the girl's red, splotchy
cheek.
"I... I never thought anyone could accept me like this," the brunette
confessed. She sniffled, a miserable, wretched sound.
Suddenly, as though a pipe had been unstoppered, the words came tumbling from
her mouth, flowing unchecked and uncensored straight to Yomi's ears.
Mirai told her sempai everything. About why she'd been bullied, how she had
been ostracized for as long as she could remember, either pitied or mistrusted
every time the truth of her gender came out. She related the pain, the
loneliness of forever being on the outside looking in, the hopelessness of
despairing to ever find true love, or understanding.
She poured out everything: all the worries, all the fears, all the heartache.
She hid nothing from Yomi, bared her heart fully to the girl. She opened up,
daring to trust one more time in the good nature of another.
And Yomi did not betray this trust. She did not scorn Mirai, or reject her, or
treat her like a freak. Yomi hugged the girl, embraced her, held Mirai close to
her bosom and let the lass's tears wash the white from her blouse.
She kissed Mirai's forehead, whispering comfortingly as the girl's speech
sputtered out into shuddering, cathartic sobs.
"There, there, Mirai-chan," Yomi said sweetly, cradling the petite chit in her
arms. "It's okay now, you're with friends. We won't hurt you. Everything will
be alright, Mirai. We'll help you get over this."
She smiled.
"I'll help you get over it."
Mirai looked up at Yomi. She had no idea how much time had passed since coming
into the walk-in wardrobe, but she didn't care. All that mattered right now...
"...th-thank you, Yomi..."
...was that the tight, horrible, death-like feeling in her chest had begun to
loosen and lessen as her insides unknotted themselves, and misery slackened its
grip on her heart. A warmth rose up inside of her, soft and fuzzy, a gentle
tingling that made her wish she could stay right here, in this singular moment,
held in Yomi's arms, forever.
"I love you, Mirai," Yomi whispered. "And I'm sure the others feel the same
way. You're one of us." She tightened her hug, all but burying Mirai's face in
her bosom. "We don't want to see you sad, not like this. What do you say? I'm
sure they'd love to help you deal with those... frustrations... you've been
having."
Softly, gently, one of Yomi's hands went down to Mirai's member. The organ was
flaccid and soft under her fingers, but Mirai squirmed nonetheless at the
blonde's touch.
"Yomi..." the raven-haired cyclops groaned. "Hnngh...!"
Mirai nuzzled her face into Yomi chest, rubbing her cheeks against the damp,
sticky fabric of Yomi's shirt.
"Aw, so sweet," Yomi giggled. "I'd be happy to eat your bean sprouts every
day❤"
The blonde felt Mirai's hands begin to wander. The younger lass peered up into
Yomi's eyes with an unreadable expression, though not emotionless or blank.
"You... don't mean...?"
Yomi's expression brightened a little more, and she pecked Mirai's forehead a
second time. A hand slid down to gingerly cup the mound of Mirai's sex, causing
the brunette to quietly whimper under this almost painfully exciting prelude to
pleasure.
"Would you have me as your girlfriend, Mirai-chan?"
Mirai stopped breathing. Her heart skipped a beat, and she stared up at Yomi.
Her mouth gaped.
"Are you serious?" she whispered, scarcely able to believe what she was
hearing. Her eye was wide. Her heart was racing. She felt like she had
something big and bulbous caught in her throat. "Do you... really mean
that...?"
Yomi smiled.
"As serious as a clearance sale," said the once-impoverished young woman.
Fingers left Mirai's body, only to move to the buttons of Yomi's blouse. "I
want to see you happy." She started to lift her shirt up over her head. "I want
to explore your body, and teach you to be proud of what fortune gave you❤"
Yomi's top came off. She wore a bra underneath, of course, frilly and cute and
delightfully skimpy, but for how Mirai reacted you'd think Yomi had stripped
completely naked. The young kunoichi's penis stiffened, stirring and standing
up; her eye gazed fixedly into the deep, luscious, creamy valley of Yomi's
bountiful, doughy breasts.
Mirai's face was rosy, a blush traveling down her neck, right to her chest. Her
nipples felt painfully hard, erect. Her shaft quivered, rising to full mast at
the mere sight of Yomi taking her top off. Her slit moistened, nether lips
swelling minutely, mindlessly longing to spread and be filled.
Something smouldered in her belly, a heat in her loins like hot coals ready to
rekindle into a roaring blaze. Her throat tightened, lips started to feel dry.
Mirai's tongue flitted out, laving saliva over her lips and tasting the
remnants of her last mouth-to-mouth kiss with Yomi – only minutes ago, this
was, yet it felt as though ages had passed in the interim.
Yomi's skirt was riding up, Mirai quivering in the blonde's lap. Her ample
bosom heaved with slow, deep breaths. Yomi's bra strained against the swell of
her breasts, which struggled for freedom with every contraction of her
diaphragm. Her panties were wet – visibly soaked, if you happened to peek from
a low angle.
Mirai whimpered, inhaling the smell of Yomi's feminine musk. Her face was close
enough that she could have licked up the sweat between her sempai's breasts,
and a repressed part of her was certainly tempted to do so.
For a moment, Mirai thought she saw a flash of green behind one of the clothes
racks, out of the corner of her eye, but then she blinked and it was gone.
Probably nothing.
"Yomi..." she murmured. "I..."
"I want to make you feel good," Yomi whispered in response, cutting Mirai off.
"Please, let me at least be a little selfish, hmm? I want to have fun with your
body."
She unhooked her bra.
Mirai went silent, stuck dumb with either lust, envy, or sheer awe. She had
seen Yomi in varying states of nudity before, but never in so intimate a
position as they were now in. This wasn't like other times, where she happened
to catch a glimpse of something here or there from the corner of her eye.
This was all for her. Yomi was showing herself to her, displaying that gorgeous
body of hers all for Mirai.
Yomi wanted to be selfish, she said?
Mirai's hands came up, fingers sinking deeply into the soft, supple flesh of
Yomi's bosom. Her palms were buried in rolling hills and valleys, nearly
vanishing into the ponderous expanse of the blonde's wondrous breasts. She felt
a thrill, shivering gleefully from below the waist and up, licking her lips and
drinking in every inch of Yomi's chest.
"Let's both be selfish, then," Mirai said.
She saw Yomi smile at her words, and leaned up impulsively to mash their lips
together. Her tongue slipped into Yomi's mouth, and her hands kneaded deeper
into her sempai's breasts, eagerly and passionately fondling the beautiful,
buxom young woman.
She tasted like bean sprouts. This was so obvious it hardly bore mention, and
yet the subtleties of the flavor entranced Mirai, intoxicated her. She devoured
Yomi's lips hungrily, tasting the woman's mouth.
Yomi fell down on her back, moaning against Mirai's lips, panting and sweaty as
Mirai fondled her breasts. Her nipples rubbed against Mirai's palms, being
pinched and twisted between fingers, tugged and tweaked and teased in every
possible way. Her skirt rode up, and Mirai's erection dug into her belly.
A large, throbbing cock slipped this way and that over Yomi's abdomen. Mirai
continued to kiss and grope the woman, as well as spooning her, thrusting her
manhood up and down against Yomi's lean, flat stomach. Precum left a perverse
sheen on her skin, mingling with a hot and tangy sweat.
Mirai's pert, round white buttocks bobbed up and down in the air. Her ass was
shapely and tight, compact and perky. Nectar glistened, dribbling from between
her legs, a puffy blossom gushing its arousal.
Yomi purred beneath Mirai, and hands reached down under the blonde's skirt,
hooking the waistband of lacy panties with delicately calloused thumbs. She
worked them down, panting into Mirai's passionate kiss, arching her back as
small, deft fingers massaged themselves deep into the ample, doughy tissue of
her breasts.
Mirai broke off the kiss, and she looked into Yomi's eyes.
"Please..." the blonde whispered, blushing and moaning. "Mirai... put it
in...!"
Yomi parted the lips of her pussy. Mirai shivered, thrilled at the thought of
what was about to happen. Her lips brushed Yomi's one more time, before she
inched her torso down, lining her male sex up with Yomi's entrance.
"O...okay..." Mirai panted, her eyes level with Yomi's breasts. She lowered her
pelvis, pressing the tip of her cock to Yomi's labia. "I... I'm going in...!"
Mirai prepared to plunge in, but a hand grasped the base of her shaft, and held
firm. She was stopped from penetrating the buxom, bean sprout-loving swordsman.
"Well, now, this doesn't seem very fair..." Hikage drawled blandly.
She was glancing between Mirai and Yomi. Her face was as unreadable as usual,
but there was something in the verdette's eyes that gave Mirai pause... and
were her cheeks usually that colorful...?
Hikage looked into Mirai's eye, and something about the third-year's glance
gave the brunette shivers.
"...What if someone else wanted a turn?"
Mirai blushed. Yomi pouted.
Hikage almost looked like she could have frowned.
Chapter End Notes
     A/N: Hehe, Yomi shouldn't be the ONLY one to get to have fun with
     Mirai's sexy loli-futa body. ;)
     Semi-unrelatedly, I just recently pre-ordered Senran Kagura: Shinovi
     Versus for the PSVita. Now all I have to do is save the money to
     actually BUY a Vita, preferably before the game actually comes out...
     haha. *sweatdrop*
     But when I do get that, it should hopefully provide me plenty more
     fodder/inspiration for SK kunoichi sexiness~❤
     Updated: 8-13-14
     TTFN and R&R!
     – — ❤
***** First Taste *****
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
Cheeks grew hot, fingers curling around a rigid, pulsing phallus. Each breath
was a conscious effort, agonizingly arduous. Her chest rose and fell, straining
against the ripped and torn confines of a slashed up uniform blouse.
Ba-da-bump. Ba-da-bump.
Her heart was pounding in her ears, the rush of blood nearly blinding her eyes.
Extremities trembled, palms sweaty, skin shivering. She felt curiously weak,
and it took her a disconcertingly considerable effort to keep her hands steady.
"Mm... She's adorable, isn't she?"
Haruka's words repeated themselves in Hikage's mind as she looked down at the
tangled, sweaty forms of Mirai and Yomi. A pang of... something... made the
verdette inwardly wince. Unconsciously, she gripped the base of Mirai's shaft a
little tighter, and tugged a bit harder to keep her classmates apart.
The brunette mewled, whimpering quietly as Hikage squeezed her penis. A thin
trail of glistening saliva connected Mirai's lips with Yomi's. Ruddy, round
cheeks subtly dimpled as her mouth contorted, working open and closed as if
trying to speak.
Blue eyes met yellow. Yomi pouted at Hikage, perhaps upset about having her fun
interrupted. Large, torpedo shaped breasts squashed and quivered under Mirai's
groping hands.
Hikage wondered what this feeling was. Mirai's erection throbbed in her hand,
and the verdette experienced a rare thrill jolting her heart. Her mouth was
dry, and she felt hot. Unbearably hot. It was excruciating. Her face burned,
and it felt like her insides were being broiled.
There was a pressure in the pit of her abdomen, a weighty scratching and
tingling sort of sensation not entirely unlike the need to piss, and it was all
Hikage could do to keep from shivering. The pressure steadily mounted as she
drank in more and more of the sight of Mirai's naked form, Yomi's exposed body.
Hikage licked her lips.
Yomi's eyes did not shy from her senior's stare, but rather met the challenge
head on, gazing fixedly into Hikage's eyes. Mirai squirmed between her two
upperclassmen, her cock still firmly in Hikage's grasp, the member agonizingly
restrained from intercourse with Yomi's sex.
Absentmindedly, Hikage realized that she was doing a whole lot more than just
holding Mirai's shaft. Her fingers were working up and down the hot, pulsing
organ, feeling up and fondling the first-year's sizable erection.
She was groping Mirai. Hikage's free hand had somehow found its way to her
junior's chest, and it was now squeezing and rubbing the small, perky nubs of
her tits.
Sexual harassment. That's what this was called, right?
Yes.
Hikage was sexually harassing Mirai. Groping, fondling, molesting and teasing.
Her hands seemed to have minds of their own, dancing eagerly over the length
and breadth of Mirai's petite form.
Hikage wasn't sure how to feel about this. On the one hand, her body seemed to
greatly enjoy what she was doing, her genital regions growing increasingly
sensitive, something that could only be sexual arousal making her heart race
and stomach twist... and yet, on the other hand...
...
...okay, she was having trouble thinking of a reason not to like this. Perhaps
"lust" was compromising her cognitive faculties, overriding the finer nuances
of intelligent decision making with the primal urge to mate. Perhaps her
inexperience in dealing with emotions left her defenseless against this sudden
onslaught of sensations from the sight, the touch, the smell and sound of the
naked, adorable, whimpering, sweaty and blushing Mirai beneath her.
Or maybe there just weren't any real reasons for her to dislike this. Maybe it
was only logical and sensible and natural that Hikage should find herself
panting and licking her lips, pulling Mirai off of Yomi, rolling the girl onto
her back and staring at her massive, throbbing erection. Maybe it was perfectly
normal that the first thought in her head should be a query as to how good
Mirai's penis might taste, how good it would feel to shove that rod up her
aching cunt.
"Hi...Hikage...!" the lass in question squealed, her one eye widening, her cute
cheeks flushing a ruby red.
"Oho... So that's how it is," Yomi chirped, her eyes twinkling. "...You want a
turn."
Hikage felt a curious warmth in her cheeks. Her face was hot, and she wondered
at the sudden impulsive desire to try and hide from the other two.
Through a modest effort of will, she locked eyes with Yomi.
"Yes, I think you're probably right."
Hikage's tone was measured, even, sounding almost disinterested. Yet her lips
quivered slightly, and her eyes flicked over to Mirai's crotch. She stared with
an unaccustomed intensity at the younger kunoichi's erection.
Unconsciously, Hikage licked her lips. She felt her insides contort, her breath
catch, her heart skip a beat or two. Her top, which had never before seemed
uncomfortable, now felt a hundred times too tight and confining to bear.
A bead of sweat trickled down her brow.
Yomi smiled at Hikage. One of the blonde's hands moved down her abdomen, coming
to a rest over the slight bulge of her pubic mound. A single finger traced the
puffy, swollen lips of her womanhood. She moaned immodestly, her loins visibly
moistening.
Hikage, out of the corner of her eye, saw Yomi's free hand move to cup one of
the second-year's generous breasts. Soft and supple flesh dimpled beneath long
and slender fingers, nipples standing up proud and firm. Her skin was rosy,
flush with sweat.
Yomi began to fondle herself. She squeezed her tit, pinching and twisting the
nipple between her fingers. Arching her back and softly mewling, she then
gingerly slipped a single finger inside herself, gently thrusting back and
forth, torturously teasing herself higher and higher.
The blonde, in the midst of her steadily mounting self-pleasure, somehow
managed to smile at Hikage, and nod. An unspoken approval passed from her to
her senior.
Go ahead, she seemed to say with her actions. I can wait a little longer.
It was almost imperceptible, but Hikage returned the nod. The corners of her
lips twitched the slightest bit.
"Thanks, Yomi," she said. "I appreciate this."
Then the verdette turned her focus entirely onto Mirai, and once more she found
herself to be licking her lips. Her eyes skirted the height and width of her
junior's cock, committing every vein and crease to memory.
Hikage perceived a spreading dampness in her panties. She discarded them
without a second thought.
Mirai looked up at her senior, blushing and quaking. She smiled a touch
nervously.
"So... you don't hate me, either...?" she asked tentatively.
Hikage stared at Mirai.
"Why would I?" she asked in her usual, bored-sounding tone of voice. "I didn't
hate you before, and I don't hate you now."
"You don't think it's weird?" Mirai whimpered. "That I have... a p-penis?"
"Oh, yeah, it's weird alright," Hikage answered blandly. "But weird is okay.
Maybe even better than okay."
She began to stroke Mirai's shaft in earnest, kneeling over the spreadeagle
hermaphrodite's legs. She leaned in, bending low until her lips were nearly
touching the moist, fleshy tip of Mirai's cock.
Mirai shivered. Hikage's breath felt hot against her manhood. She let out a
soft whine, biting her lower lip.
"Do you..." she began hesitantly, not quite able to look Hikage in the eye. "D-
do you... like it, Hikage...?" She gulped audibly, undoubtedly nervous. "Do you
like my penis?"
Hikage looked up at Mirai. Her eyes scanned over the brunette's lean and pale
abdomen, her perky little breasts, her slender neck, softly rounded cheeks, and
into her warm, deep red eye. The verdette was silent for a long moment,
pensive.
Her lips hovered but centimeters above Mirai's penis.
Hm. That's a good question. Do I?
Hikage thought about it.
She contemplated the sensations she was experiencing. The warmth in her belly,
the pounding of her heart, the excitement rushing through her veins. She
considered the way she looked at her underclassman's sex, the thoughts that
went through her head when she looked at Mirai's erection.
Hikage was an intelligent young woman, incomparably capable of distancing
herself mentally from a conundrum and analyzing it rationally. Out of the whole
elite class, probably only Haruka – who almost exclusively used very cerebral
and arcane kinds of ninjutsu – could be readily considered more gifted in this
way.
Homura was clever after her own fashion, but also brash and hot-blooded. Yomi
was not an idiot, but her strengths lay in the realms of brute force and
destruction. Mirai had a promising sort of cunning, but it was tempered by
inexperience and an occasional lack of confidence.
None of Hikage's classmates could analyze a situation as coolly or
dispassionately as she. This was her chief talent as a kunoichi, aside from
speed and skill with knives.
It took her little time to reach a conclusion.
"Yes, I suppose I do like it," she said honestly. "It's... different.
Interesting."
Her words washed over Mirai's hard, throbbing shaft well before they actually
reach the girl's ears. Her breath was warm and humid, damp air brushing over
agonizingly sensitive skin.
Mirai blushed. A smile found its way onto her face.
"I'm glad..." she whispered. "It makes me happy to hear you say that."
Hikage hummed.
"Ohhh...? Then how about I make you feel even happier?" she drawled.
Slim, calloused hands curled around Mirai's shaft. The brunette gasped,
slightly bucking her hips. Soft, plump lips brushed over the slit of Mirai's
cock.
Hikage's tongue flicked out, tentatively sliding over the tip of Mirai's dick.
"Ah... ahhhn! Hikage~!" she squealed, her face going red as a tomato.
Hikage stroked Mirai's cock, lowering her lips to thoughtfully kiss the head of
her kouhai's penis. The brunette's shaft pulsed and throbbed in her hands, hard
and rigid, enormous. She felt the skin shiver at her touch, sparks jolting her
fingers at every point of contact.
"Mm... you two❤" Yomi purred, watching with bedroom eyes and a healthy flush to
her cheeks. Her finger was wet, moist with her fragrant nectar. She moaned,
arching her back, brushing a hand delicately across her bosom and shivering.
The blonde stimulated, pleasured herself patiently, passionately, watching and
appreciating as Hikage showed just how much she liked Mirai's dick.
Juices glistened, Mirai's pussy dampening with glee. Precum welled up from her
penile meatus. Yomi's mouth watered, and a part of her slightly regretted
letting Hikage have a turn before she could properly christen herself.
Hikage's nostrils filled with the scent of Mirai's arousal. A musky aroma
tantalized her, drawing the emotionally stunted verdette's curiousity. Lips
pressed hungrily against the fleshy head of the brunette's cock, parting almost
anxiously, a mouth opening wide, sliding gingerly down.
Yellow, slitted eyes rolled in their sockets. Smooth, soft cheeks bulged out.
A third of the way in.
Hikage moaned incoherently, her voice muffled, gagged by Mirai's meat. Her lips
smacked obscenely on the sides of the rigid shaft, and her tongue curled over
itself, dragging its moist, soft length this way and that across the throbbing,
solid cock which filled her mouth.
A free hand made its way south, fingers tracing the exposed pink folds of
Mirai's pussy. The girl shivered, her body quaking, helpless under this two-
pronged assault.
Smack. Smack. Smack.
Hikage sucked on Mirai's cock, taking as much of it into her mouth as she
could. She licked and kissed it, fingering and fondling her cutely whimpering
kouhai. Her lips were noisy on Mirai's dick, wetly slapping the sides of her
throbbing hardness. Saliva dribbled down her shaft.
"H...Hikage...! Awauuu!" Mirai squealed, shuddering and throwing her head this
way and that, twisting her body and arching her back, unable to hold still as
ecstasy wracked her slight, nubile form. "Ohhhh! Hikage~!"
Hikage moaned, closing her eyes. She explored Mirai's erection, feeling it out
with her lips and her tongue. It tickled her uvula. Nectar gushed over her
fingers, Mirai's pussy discharging in euphoria. She serviced the girl,
thrusting two slim fingers deftly in and out of Mirai's cunt.
"Mmph... Mmm..." the verdette groaned, humming.
Mirai grunted, panting and pumping her hips, squealing and moaning, tongue
lolling out of her mouth. Hikage's lips chafed her rod, brushing back and over
bulging blue veins. Skillful fingers pinched and fondled her clit, driving the
poor girl absolutely mad with pleasure.
It was too much.
"Hikage... I'm...!"
She came.
Like a rush of vertigo, Mirai slammed headfirst into a wall of hot dizziness.
The world was spinning, and she could hear the blood roaring in her ears. She
buckled, collapsing in a mewling heap of aching, delighted confusion.
Her extremities tingled as they regained feeling – when had they gone numb? –
even as she slumped further than ever onto her back, boneless and limp. Her
cock twitched, disgorging a spurt of semen, shooting thick ropes of pungent,
delicious spunk into Hikage's mouth.
Mirai's nipples were hard as rock. She felt a glow in her abdomen, soft and
warm. Her pussy gushed all over the floor, hot nectar spraying once-dry
hardwood with the brunette's natural perfume.
Mirai came, and Hikage swallowed it all. Yomi watched, and shuddered, coming to
the brink of orgasm herself.
Vision faded. Mirai's eye fluttered shut.
She swooned, spent. Satisfied. She fell asleep with a smile on her face, all
worries forgotten.
Hikage smiled at her. So did Yomi.
And just outside the dressing room, Haruka chortled demurely. Her eyes
twinkled.
"My, my..." she whispered to herself. "What a noisy bunch they are❤"
She licked her lips.
Chapter End Notes
     A/N: Umm. Trying to think of something to say here.
     Oh, I know! As a little bit of trivia, much of the blowjob scene was
     cannibalized (with numerous modifications) from a similar scene in
     the yet-unfinished final chapter of One Shot, One Kiss. Which has
     been an extremely slow work-in-progress, spanning what feels like
     several months at this point.
     Chiefly because it's SO DAMN BIG. (like mirai's penis and the others'
     boobs lol geddit? hurr hur)
     Ugh, my back hurts.
     And, wow, this is already the second popular SK fic on FFN. That
     still surprises me a little.
     Updated: 8-19-14
     TTFN and R&R!
     – — ❤
***** Day's End *****
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
Hikage watched absentmindedly as Yomi got herself dressed back up. The second-
year was a very lovely young woman, attractive by nearly any standards with
that perfect skin and salacious figure, and the subtle reactions of the
swordsman's body as she bent over to pull up stained and sticky panties mildly
intrigued the stoic verdette.
There was a faint ache in her belly, the knife-wielder noted, detachedly
observing the quiver of Yomi's buttocks, the alternate spreading and squeezing
of her tight posterior crevasse. Her own panties lay wet and strongly scented,
discarded off to one side. Her skirt felt unusually tight, conforming almost
snugly to the curvature of her toned yet generous bum.
Yomi was beautiful. Hikage had sufficient emotional awareness to realize at
least this much. The younger woman was an absolute bombshell in her own way,
distinct from the dark athleticism of Homura and the bold sensuality of Haruka,
and no less appealing.
Hikage licked her lips, glancing away from Yomi and back down at Mirai.
This was... enjoyable.
That thought was foremost in Hikage's mind as she peered at the naked,
insensate form of the slim, petite first-year. She looked at Mirai's sleeping
face, the peaceful expression. A small serene smile tilted the edges of her
lips upward, innocently contented, unworried in the realm of her dreams.
Hikage felt her mouth twitch infinitesimally, and a warm tingling blossomed in
her chest, rising to her face. Her cheeks faintly heated, and her insides felt
strangely but not unpleasantly light.
Very much so.
Her face was getting warmer still as she continued to gaze at Mirai's sleeping
form. A slight giddiness was seeded in her stomach, her extremities eager for
motion, activity. She felt... ... ... happy, perhaps?
A moment passed, and Hikage glanced back at Yomi. The girl had her bra on, now,
whistling cheerily to herself and beaming. There was a sense of brightness to
everything she was doing right now, a graceful ease to the movements of her
limbs. She was relaxed, her stance betraying almost zero tension.
She was all but glowing, in Hikage's eyes.
The warmth in the verdette's abdomen deepened, spreading further out through
her arms and legs. Her lips were curled upward – not excessively so by any
standards, but still Hikage felt pointedly conscious of her mouth's unfamiliar
pose.
This was a smile, she realized. She was smiling, looking from Mirai to Yomi,
from Yomi to Mirai. She really did feel happy, a sense of satisfaction growing
more and more noticeable in the back of her mind: a rush of chemical messengers
telling her she had done a good job, something she usually only felt after the
most challenging of missions.
Hikage was glad. She knew now what happiness felt like, beyond any shadow of a
doubt. She recognized the sensations going through her, familiar to her from
many past occasions, if in much diminished forms from this.
Satisfaction. Giddiness. A hint of subdued mirth.
Hikage looked down at Mirai's face, saw the peaceful expression thereupon, and
smiled ever so slightly to herself.
"She looks so cute," she whispered, not really meaning to address anyone, just
absentmindedly voicing a thought which crossed her mind. One of her hands came
up, calloused fingers gingerly brushing over the soft and girlish curve of
Mirai's cheek.
She heard a giggle from Yomi's direction.
"Isn't she, though?" the blonde agreed, stepping fully-dressed into view.
"Mirai-chan is absolutely adorable. I could just eat her right up!"
Hikage saw Yomi clasp her hands in front of her bosom, and her attention was
drawn unavoidably to the stains on the girl's blouse. Mirai had ejaculated a
rather generous amount onto the blonde's clothed chest earlier, before Hikage
had even followed them into the wardrobe. Even aside from the rather strong and
unmistakable odor of the girl's sex coming off of Yomi, the now-crusting and
flaking mess which stubbornly clung to her top could hardly be confused with
anything else.
"It looks like you had plenty of chances to do that already," Hikage dryly
commented, pointedly glancing at the drying semen.
Yomi giggled, and bent over Mirai's nude form. She stood next to Hikage, her
eyes crinkled by a sweetly cheerful smile.
"Mm, but that was only an appetizer," she replied warmly. "You interrupted me
before I could ever get to the main course, after all."
"Ah, yes. So I did," Hikage said. Her words were bland and free of inflection,
betraying no sense of sheepishness or contrition. "And after that there wasn't
even time for dessert."
Yomi laughed, warmly beaming at her reticent sempai.
"Well I suppose that's fair enough," she said. "I don't think I could have
picked between the banana split and lemon meringue, anyways. You know? I could
have gone for the popsicle or the pie~"
Hikage shrugged.
"Meat's more filling anyways," she said.
"Oho? Is sempai a carnivore, then?" Yomi teased, her eyes twinkling.
"I don't really have any preferences," Hikage blandly replied. "As long as it's
filling."
She bent over, scooping Mirai up in her arms. With an ease borne both of her
deceptive strength and the slightness of Mirai's frame, Hikage slung the naked
first-year gently over her shoulder. The brunette's flaccid manhood rubbed
against her exposed midriff, moistening her sempai's skin with a mixture of
sweat, saliva, and lingering precum.
"Mm, I suppose that is very important," Yomi cheerfully agreed, leaning forward
to pinch the unconscious Mirai's cheek. "But then, some say it's all about the
presentation."
The blonde cast her eyes over Mirai's nude form, lingering especially long on
the milky white peaches of the girl's cute little rump.
"How it looks is as important as how it tastes, right?" Hikage guessed,
shifting Mirai's weight in her arms. She followed Yomi's gaze, and found the
sight which met her eyes to be most agreeable. "You make the first impression
with sight, after all."
The verdette looked from Mirai's butt to Yomi's eyes. At the edges of her
mouth, a faint twitching was momentarily evident. Amber lamps glinted with an
unaccustomed light.
"It's what some people say," Yomi said innocently. "Though personally I care
more about substance. An apple could look delicious on the outside, yet have a
completely rotten core."
"What's on the inside counts just as much..." Hikage mused. "Is that it?"
She and Yomi started toward the dressing room, making their way to the
expansive wardrobe's distant exit.
"Bruises are only skin deep, but a worm burrows all the way in," said Yomi
sagely. "It's the smallest oranges that have the sweetest taste."
Hikage briefly pondered the extent of Yomi's repertoire of food-related
proverbs.
They passed by racks of magical girl outfits and various styles of swimsuit.
Some very skimpy lingerie hung prominently throughout the subterranean chamber
where their various disguises, outfits, and combat uniforms were stored.
Hikage eventually came to the conclusion that Yomi probably had as many
culinary aphorisms in reserve as Hebijo had inappropriately suggestive
costumes.
"Mirai is sweeter than any fruit," the verdette belatedly remarked. "Don't you
think?"
"She is a darling," Yomi concurred with some enthusiasm. "It's just a pity that
she's so ashamed of her body."
Hikage nodded, humming softly.
"She's got nothing to be ashamed of," she agreed, with the slightest tinge of
unfamiliar emotion in her voice.
"I know, right?" Yomi giggled. "I'd be happy to be her girlfriend! And if she
had a boyfriend, she could do both girlfriend AND boyfriend things with him.
Isn't that so convenient? Plus she's just such a sweet, adorable little thing~"
Despite herself, Hikage imagined Mirai in bed with a generically handsome young
man, both on the receiving and giving end.
A tiny bit of blood trickled from her nostrils.
"I don't get why most guys are so averse to that kind of thing," she
absentmindedly confessed. "I'm a girl, but that doesn't mean I can't find other
girls attractive. Isn't it the same for them?"
Yomi shrugged.
"My mom used to say that men can't take pain like women can, and I know a lot
of girls who would think twice about having sex that way. If it's uncomfortable
even for girls, then I guess most guys just don't have the pain tolerance."
"It's not like that's the only way to do that sort of thing, though," Hikage
remarked. "I've heard a lot of guys don't even like the thought of licking
another guy's junk." She cocked her head to one side. "If women can have fun
doing that kind of thing, I don't see why men can't."
"Boys are so silly," Yomi concluded. "Mirai's a guy and a girl, but I love both
sides of her just as much. I'd do it with her any way I could!" She laughed,
wiggling her hips. "I guess it's their loss for being so prudish."
"Guess so," Hikage agreed, a distantly thoughtful look on her face. Their
conversations passed into a contemplative silence as they neared the exit.
When they were almost to the dressing room proper, Hikage grabbed a towel from
a rack. With a moment's finagling, she managed to wrap it around Mirai's torso,
before letting her form drape once more over her shoulder.
===============================================================================
Haruka was smiling when she saw the three of them emerge at last from the
dressing room. Her frame was leaned against the wall beside the dressing room's
entrance, arms crossed languidly beneath an ample bust.
"Did you girls have fun?" she queried with twinkling eyes, looking especially
at Hikage. "From out here, it sounded like you three were going at it quite...
mmm, vigorously❤"
Yomi giggled. Her cheeks dimpled cutely with a sweet, innocently suggestive
smile.
"Is that so? And here we didn't even get to the main course."
Hikage tilted her head, shifting Mirai's lightly wrapped frame on her shoulder.
She looked sidelong at Haruka, her fellow senior. She glanced also at Yomi,
briefly. Her small smile had by this point faded once more into a neutral,
unreadable expression; but still a flicker of something went through her golden
lamps when she turned them back to Haruka.
"...it was fun, though," she commented, on her own behalf as much as Yomi's. "I
enjoyed myself."
"I think Mirai-chan enjoyed you too," Yomi agreed, her words carrying a realm
of additional meaning for the perceptive and intelligent Haruka.
"Oho-ho... is that so, Yomi?" Haruka said with a glint in her eyes.
The strawberry blonde glanced knowingly at the flaking white mess on Yomi's
blouse. Her lips curled in a playful grin, and she shifted her weight on her
legs. Her chest shifted, her exposed belly curving slightly and suggestively,
toned and smoothly muscular. Haruka's skirt rode a centimeter or two higher up
her legs, baring a bit more of her soft and youthful skin.
Hikage took a couple of steps past Haruka, heading toward the concealed
elevator which would lead back up to the ground-level main facilities of the
Hebijo School for Girls. She had never been one to indulge much in the way of
conversation, and at the moment her main concern appeared to be getting the
insensate, half-naked Mirai back to her own living quarters.
Yomi looked torn between staying behind to talk with her other upperclassman,
and going ahead with Hikage to lay the softly snoozing Mirai to rest. After a
moment, the desire to be with Mirai overrode any further interest in Haruka's
conversation.
"Ah... Hikage, no fair! I wanna come too!" she said, hurrying after the
verdette.
Haruka smirked knowingly, watching the pair head off.
"Ufufu, how amusing," she remarked to herself, watching the elevator doors
close behind Yomi and Hikage's forms. "Those two are quite smitten with Mirai-
chan, aren't they? To completely shut me down like that..."
She took a step forward from the wall, straightening and stretching with a
slow, deliberate sensuality. Her eyes glinted, and she hummed, low and husky.
"I think I might be more interested now than ever. Ohoho... at this rate,
before we know it even I'll be fawning and cooing over our dear little kouhai,"
Haruka whispered to herself. "Don't you think so, too... sensei?"
In the slightest bit of shadow in the corner of the room, there was a waver and
a flicker of something that Haruka couldn't quite place. The elite class's
homeroom teacher abruptly stepped forward, seeming to materialize from the
absence of light in the corner.
The dark and cool woman was quiet, her eyes closed as she strode with all the
fluid, sinuous grace of a stalking panther into the center of the common room.
She did not initially seem to register Haruka's comment, and for a second or
two almost it seemed that her appearance at just that moment was really nothing
more than a lucky coincidence.
At least until she opened her eyes, a keen and penetrating glance immediately
pinning Haruka on the spot. For a second even that confident young mistress of
ninjutsu felt slightly intimidated by their mentor's gaze.
Like a snake transfixing a mouse.
Haruka shook herself with a quiet, amused laugh, brushing off the momentarily
impression of fear.
"My, my... that's a very frightening glare you have," she said, smiling with a
mischievous cheer at her teacher. "Could it be that sensei is feeling jealous
of her students?"
Rin was quiet, but the temperature in the common room seemed to drop by a
couple of degrees. Haruka noted the tellingly awkward way the woman held her
legs so close together, and the slight betrayal of a tensing around her lips
and eyes.
The buxom blonde's eyes glittered, and she turned with a light hum.
A moment later, Rin sighed.
"Even akunin have lines they believe should not be crossed," she said lowly,
stoically and stealthily divulging a hint of something further down. "It would
be troublesome for all involved parties... for a teacher to involve herself so
intimately in the affairs of her students."
Haruka smiled suggestively, facing away from her sensei.
"Rules are made to be broken," she said simply. Licking her lips, she took a
step toward the elevator. "...and lines are there to be crossed. Don't you
think so~?"
Rin blushed the smallest, most insignificant amount. Her lips quirked ever so
slightly.
"That is a remarkably straightforward thing for someone like you to say."
"Perhaps, perhaps," said Haruka, shrugging theatrically. "But then I am a very
simple woman heart. When I see something cute, I just want to play with it and
take it for myself."
She raised a finger to her lips, smiling lustily.
"Mirai was a real cutie to begin with, but now... I don't think I'll be able to
resist myself the next time she calls me Haruka-sama." She shivered, the
smallest and softest of moans escaping her mouth.
"As long as it doesn't hinder your grades, or your mission performance," Rin
said.
Her tone almost sounded superficially aloof to Haruka's ears, as though the
woman was trying just a little too hard to make it seem as though she didn't
really care. This was very telling.
With a smile, Haruka pressed the button for the elevator.
"I daresay it will do quite the opposite, at least for one of us..." she said
suggestively. "Really, if there's anyone I worry about, it would have to be
Homura."
The doors opened, and Haruka set foot into the elevator. Turning to give Rin
one last smile, she knowingly added:
"After all, self-denial is bad for the soul~"
Rin scowled minutely at the knowing way Haruka said this. That girl was far too
perceptive for her own good.
The elevator doors closed, and Rin quietly allowed herself to blush. She felt
all too aware of her bosom's considerable heft as she slowly and shakily
inhaled and exhaled, softly shivering and sucking on the tip of her index
finger.
Her eyes were distant, as if looking back still to the events of barely an hour
past. Shuddering and shaking her head, she strode over to the couch.
"I really do hate when she's right..." the woman sorely grumbled.
Squeezing her eyes shut, she touched herself and let out a hiss through her
teeth. Her frame, voluptuous and mature, quivered in a decided sensual fashion.
A hand traced its way down to the hem of her skirt, rogue fingers boldy tracing
light and teasing circles down the deep, glistening valley of her cleavage.
The buttons of her blouse began to come undone. Her skirt rode up her thighs,
black and lacy adult panties soon enough coming into view. Her hips bucked,
legs squeezing sorely, achingly together. A fire kindled in her belly, and Rin
let out a low, husky, longing moan.
"Ahhn... Mirai..." she breathed, fingertip lightly brushing the moist, warm
crotch of her panties. She licked her lips, tugging on the front of her blouse
and exposing her racily-clad breasts flop out. "Mm... ohh, why must you make me
feel this way...?"
She arched her back, fondling herself with a groan and slipping aside the front
of her underwear. She rubbed a pair of fingers gingerly, anxiously up and down
the moist, exposed slit of her womanhood, grunting huskily and rolling her head
on her shoulders. She touched herself more deeply, reaching a hand up her bra
to stroke and pinch a stiff, aching nipple.
It was at that moment that Homura walked into the common room, leaving the
bathroom in a visibly flustered and disheveled stated. She was blushing and
sweaty, looking as though she had just finished running a marathon.
Rin froze and stared at her student, realizing immediately how stupid of her it
was to masturbate here where anyone could walk in on her.
Homura blinked, staring uncomprehendingly at her teacher. It clearly took the
young woman a moment to process what she was seeing.
Rin, after a second of staring at Homura, remembered what else Haruka had said.
She noted the second-year's suspiciously disheveled state of dress.
Homura saw the glint of realization in her teacher's eyes, and averted her gaze
briefly, blushing hotly and abashed. She anxiously fidgeted.
Silently, without a word spoken on either side, Rin and Homura both agreed to
tell no one of what they had seen or deduced. The tanned, curvaceous sword
mistress walked up to the elevator. The tall, dark, and gorgeous sensei quietly
removed her hands from herself and shifted her clothes back into place.
With a nervous cough, she left the common room, headed in the direction of her
own private quarters. Homura, a second later, boarded the elevator and ascended
to the ground floor.
This marked the end of a very eventful school day.
Chapter End Notes
     A/N: Auggh, this chapter took me so damn long to get done and up...
     the first half of it was written up not that long after posting the
     previous chapter, but I was stuck/distracted from the second half for
     the longest damn time... yeesh.
     Maybe the next chapter will come out more easily, once I get around
     to it.
     Also, as a pretty much heterosexual male, it was a very curious
     exercise to tilt my perspective and see what a couple of bi-the-way
     anime females would think of the average guy's aversion to even the
     implication of homosexuality, haha. But it also seems only fair I
     explore something like that, even if only in passing, since I
     admittedly tend to play the "all women are bi" card pretty damn often
     in these sorts of works.
     Remember, everyone! Double standards are bullshit. If one sex is
     gonna be objectified, it's only fair that the other sex is
     objectified too! Haha~ XD
     Updated: 10-10-14
     TTFN and R&R!
     – — ❤
***** That Which Bears Fruit *****
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
It was a peaceful, serene morning in the forest. Birds chirped longing mating
calls, and threatened intruders away from their territory with warning trills.
Squirrels scampered through the branches, play fighting and looking for food.
Hares zipped through the underbrush at erratic intervals, springing away at the
slightest hint of motion.
A mother bear trundled down a game path, occasionally pausing to sniff the
ground or poke her muzzle into a bush, foraging for tasty roots and berries. A
pair of fuzzy, fresh-faced cubs trotted along behind her, curiously following
their mother's example on how to seek out sustenance, slowly learning the
skills that would one day enable them to fend for themselves.
One of the cubs perked up, seeing a brown hare dart across the trail behind
them. It looked ready to try and follow after the small animal, but the mother
turned her head around and let out an authoratative huff. Thick hair bristled
down her spine, close to a quarter-ton of imposing maternal bulk silently
remonstrating the curious cub before it could even try to wander away.
The adolescent bear lowered its head, slinking contritely back to its mother's
heels. Its more obedient sibling continued foraging through a bush their mother
had pointed out, stripping a few unripe berries from the lower branches.
A small family of black squirrels skittered up a tree trunk a little ways
further up the game trail, the slight scritch-scratch of their tiny claws on
the bark quite audible. The mother bear's ears perked up, and she turned her
head curiously eastward. Her cubs did likewise, just barely picking up whatever
sound it was that had caught their mom's attention.
Suddenly, a trio of gunshots rang out in quick succession.
A moment of silence.
Just as quickly, an instant later, three mechanized shinobi training dummies
fell amidst the brush and brambles not ten yards away.
Spooked by the sudden noise, the cubs huddled close behind their mother. The
ursine matron snuffled and chuffed, and turned around to nudge her cubs back
down the way they had come. Dismayed and startled, the adolescents needed
little more direction than that, and they slunk away warily from the gunshots,
hiding in the safety of their mother's shadow.
A mildly irritated growl was the mother bear's last acknowledgement of the
disturbance, before she and her cubs disappeared into the distance.
Mirai paid the animals little heed, having already determined that the bears
were not part of today's obstacle course. She darted through the upper branches
of the forest, moving as nimbly as any squirrel. Despite the seemingly
impractical nature of her gothic lolita dress for something like this, the
young shinobi-in-training did not seem to have the slightest difficulties with
movement.
With an uncanny grace and awareness, she picked a course quickly and
efficiently through the branches, perceiving almost intuitively which ones
would and would not support her weight. No twigs snatched at the frills of her
dress, nor did any leaves happen to get caught in the straps or clasps of her
outfit. The boughs she landed on scarcely had time to even bend before she had
already sprung away, off onto the next one.
Just looking up at the canopy, one hardly would have guessed that a human being
– however small or light – was traveling through the branches. Only the
faintest rustle of leaf or quiver of branch betrayed Mirai's passage, maybe
enough to make a perceptive civilian think there was a squirrel moving
overhead. Even most animals would not have marked the prospective shinobi's
presence until she had already completely passed them by.
Following the course that had been laid out for her by Suzune-sensei, Mirai
moved through the trees, her lacy umbrella folded and cocked at the ready. At
irregular, unpredictable intervals she would be ambushed or attacked by hidden
dummies, the wooden shinobi automatons armed with all the kinds of weapons a
modern kunoichi might be realistically expected to face during a real mission.
It was a brutal test, as befitting Hebijo (or any respectable ninja academy),
with all of the blades razor sharp, all of the cudgels fully-weighted, and all
of the guns firing live rounds. So not only did Mirai risk failing and getting
assigned more training if she got hit, but there was also a very real chance of
death if she let her guard down.
Thus far, however, she had performed admirably. Even for a member of the elite
class, Mirai was doing excellently. She was moving with a confident purpose,
detecting with perfect clarity every simulated enemy, and with a cold razor
focus ruthlessly dispatching every training dummy she came across.
None of the puppets had so much as had a chance to move at her. Out of the
forty-six she had dispatched so far, only one had actually managed to get an
attack off, springing out at Mirai from her blindspot, armed with a keen tachi.
Without even flinching, the girl had countered the attempted blow, striking
through the opening in the dummy's attack, separating the control mechanism
from its main body, and knocking the sword out of its lifeless grip before the
swing had even gotten halfway.
Now, nearing the end of the test, Mirai could see her goal coming into sight.
Her eye scanned the foliage in every direction, ears listening for the slighest
out-of-place rustle. Her mind was crystal clear, every fiber of the girl's
being focused intently on completing her training assignment without a scratch
– the only passing grade here being a perfect, flawless score.
All at once, the goal barely ten paces away, she sensed them. Four dummies
popped up, armed with various melee weapons.
They were hidden far more cleverly than any of the others, many of which had
been made deliberately conspicuous. Mirai almost didn't notice them until it
was too late. But at the last second before she would have been right on top of
them, the kunoichi caught whiff of the faintest scent of lubricant.
Under normal circumstances, it was doubtful that Mirai would have caught that
giveaway. Today, however, she was operating in peak condition. Quickly espying
the hiding places, she judged the best trajectory and adjusted her umbrella,
beginning her swing fractional seconds before she actually landed.
The first puppet sprang, and her umbrella knocked its head clean off. Simple
but effective mechanical failsafes locked up the dummy's movement, one of the
eight master switches representing vital targets flipping in the head's
absence.
The next puppet caught her blow straight to its arm, the elbow joint dislodging
with an audible snap. It tumbled out of the tree, wakizashi lost with its
dismembered limb. The third dummy took her attack in the midsection. The
barrel-ribbed torso caved from the force, another of the anatomical master
switches flipping and freezing its movements.
It then fell to the ground below, the follow-through on Mirai's swing plowing
right through to the fourth dummy. This one she caught in the leg, unbalancing
it and causing it to teeter precariously. Before the internal gyroscope could
right the puppet's balance, Mirai pivoted and brought her umbrella up in a
piercing thrust, a bayonetted barrel gouging the simulated pelvis and carving
up across the midsection, tripping another master switches.
For a coup de grâce, she swung her umbrella around, with one shot each taking
out the two sniper dummies hidden seventy yards away from either side of the
goal. Fifty-two puppets in total, a number which could have easily caught more
methodical souls off guard.
With the final threats eliminated, Mirai confidently crossed the metaphorical
finish line at the end of the course.
Hikage was there already, and before Mirai even had time to say hello Haruka
made her appearance, the sound of splintering wood and clashing steel echoing
just behind her. A little ways in the distance, from another direction, Mirai
could hear the sound of explosions, and the ground shuddered infinitesimally.
She, Hikage, and Haruka stood in a small, unremarkable clearing deep in the
forest. Trees loomed up around them, a densely woven canopy sheltering them
from the sun's rays. Specks of dancing light fell across their shadows. High
above them, leaves were stirred by the slightest and gentlest of breezes.
Mirai could see that, in a circle around them, five separate trees were marked.
A single kunai was embedded in the gnarled, knotted bark of each one. This was
the only indication of their course's end point, the destination and path
changing every week.
Each of the five elite class members had taken a different course from a
different starting point. Their end destination was the same, but every one of
them would face a unique array of challenges. The number, armament, and
distribution of training dummies across the five courses was randomly decided
by their instructor – a periodic exam that varied in as many ways as possible,
all to keep the elite class members as squarely on their toes as possible.
It was little more than a regular test of proficiency, by elite class
standards. Anyone who couldn't get through the course was clearly not cut out
to remain in the upper echelons, and would be demoted all the way down to the
lowest rank in the academy. There were effectively no exceptions.
Haruka didn't have so much as a hair out of place. Hikage looked downright
bored. Mirai herself hadn't gotten a single scratch, and she smiled proudly at
the two third-years. It was to be expected that the most senior members of the
elite class would have little trouble with a course like this, but to come in
before Yomi – let alone the masterful Homura – was worth no small bit of
satisfaction for the cycloptic brunette.
Haruka gave Mirai a small and playful grin, seeing the spotless state of the
first-year's attire.
"My!" she said. "How good to see you, and finishing just before myself. Even
better than I would have expected~"
Mirai stiffened up a touch, nodding respectfully to the buxom blonde senior.
"It was no trouble at all, Haruka-sama!" she chirped, beaming.
Haruka cooed at this, and sidled over to pinch one of the slim lass's cheeks.
Mirai blushed hotly, shivering a little at the brush of Haruka's skin against
hers.
"Homura's late," Hikage remarked, eyeing Mirai with a languid intensity,
interrupting Haruka's impending molestations.
The strawberry blonde puppet mistress let out a mirthful chortle at this, a
knowing twinkle in her eyes. She stepped away from Mirai, smiling at the
verdette knife-wielder.
"I am certain our esteemed leader is simply... distracted," Haruka said
huskily, sending a pointed and almost amused glance at Mirai. Her lips quirked,
and shifted her stance a tiny bit, striking a pose you might normally see in a
gravure shot.
Mirai stiffened again, seeing how sensually Haruka's pose emphasized her large
and proudly-displayed assets. Silently, Mirai thanked her lucky stars that she
herself had chosen such a poofy, concealing goth-loli dress for her shinobi
battle outfit.
Hikage eyed Haruka, and pursed her lips ever-so-slightly.
"That so...?" she said. "Hm."
She set a hand on her hip, short and tattered jeans clinging snugly to shapely
and toned legs. Her posture seemed to straighten a little, a touch of something
akin to subtle and unspoken menace in her stance. Amber eyes narrowed
infinitesimally.
Mirai felt her cheeks warm up, something in Hikage's glance reminding her of
yesterday's events. Sheepishly, the first-year chuckled.
"I hope Homura-san isn't having trouble..." she said. "She's usually the first
one to finish, right?"
"Hikage is a bit faster," Haruka said, smiling loftily at Mirai. "But Homura
does come in first as often as second."
"You've come in second a couple times, yourself," Hikage drawled, speaking to
Haruka. "Yomi's usually around fourth or fifth, though."
Another explosion sounded, nearer to their location than before.
"Ufufufu... she takes things nice and slow, doesn't she?" Haruka purred, eyes
twinkling.
Mirai's cheeks grew a touch hotter, and she coughed.
"I reckon I can take my time, too," Hikage said, one of her eyes glancing at
Mirai for a split second. "When it really matters."
Haruka smirked. She gave Mirai a long stare, raking her eyes slowly up and down
the raven-haired otaku's garb. Mentally undressing her, perhaps.
"Yes, some things certainly do have to be savored," she said, smiling lustily.
Licking her lips, she gave Mirai a wink. "I'm sure there are... many things..."
Haruka posed subtly, leaning forward to emphasize her voluptuous figure. Most
especially her bust, vast and soft.
"...that Mirai-chan would just love to take her time and explore..." she
whispered, her words more breathed than spoken as she leaned in closer to her
junior. "...inch by slow, careful, patient inch..."
She finished with a moan, sounding so genuine that it might have been only half
an act.
Mirai squeaked, blushing redder than ever. Something in the way she held
herself bespoke a certain pleasurable discomfort somewhere below her navel. Her
one visible eye flicked hesitantly over Haruka's form.
"Ah... does Haruka-sama, also...?" she murmured, a softly abashed look on her
face.
"Hohoho! But of course, my dear little thing❤" Haruka cooed, winking at the
first-year. "How could I not love every inch of my... mm... adorable little
junior?"
Mirai blushed. Hikage's posture seemed a touch stiff, and her cheeks had
curiously more color than usual.
Before things could progress any further one way or the other, Yomi came
crashing into the clearing, flame and thunder crashing behind her. Bits and
pieces of obliterated puppets rained down on them seconds later, trailing thin
wisps of smoke as they crumbled to cinders.
Yomi beamed at Mirai, Hikage, and Haruka. A partially bifurcated automaton was
lodged a third of the way down her enormous broadsword, her arm-mounted
crossbow completely bare of quarrels. The barrel of her cannon was smoking and
steaming, visibly hot and the slightest touch red.
"Heehee! There were an awful lot of dummies this time," she commented, smiling
especially warmly at Mirai. "I almost came close to getting scratched once or
twice!"
The raven-haired gothic lolita laughed softly, scratching her cheek. Her eye
locked on to Yomi's face, the lass visibly exerting a fair deal of willpower to
keep from looking below the blonde's collar.
Hikage glanced between Yomi and Mirai, and appeared to be contemplating
something.
"Your times were better than usual," she remarked.
"Especially Mirai's," Haruka concurred. She met Hikage's eyes. "But I'd say you
seem to have done a bit better for yourself than usual, too."
Hikage hummed.
"That so?" she drawled. "I didn't notice."
At that moment, Yomi paused in dislodging the puppet from her sword to look
around the clearing.
"One... two... three..." she counted just under her breath. "Wait! Where's
Homura-chan?"
Before anyone could respond, almost as if summoned, Homura herself at last came
into the clearing, half stumbling and half staggering past the tree marking her
respective goal. Her face was a deep shade of maroon, sweat pouring down her
skin, and her shinobi uniform had a number of conspicuous tears from nearly-
missed attacks.
Half of Homura's six katanas dropped from her hands the second she landed,
falling amist dirt and moss and broken twigs. The other half only barely
remained in her grip, the tanned young woman panting heavily, shoulders
heaving. Dark circles were under her eyes, which were only just hanging open.
"Damn... that was too close," she muttered to herself, shaking her head.
"You look awful," said Hikage bluntly, eyeing their team leader.
Homura's smiled weakly at the verdette, chuckling.
"Do I...?" she mused. A sigh. "Hehe... I guess today wasn't a very good day for
me."
"You passed, though, didn't you?" Yomi inquired, sounding concerned.
Homura let out a confident laugh.
"It look like I'm bleeding...?" she said cockily, an effect that would have
worked better had she not been practically bent over double and gasping for
breath. "Of course I passed. It was just... a little harder than usual, is
all."
She then looked around, taking in all of the four faces looking at her.
"Wait, I'm seriously the last one here?" she said. "Damn... I've gotta step up
my game!"
Homura shook herself with a self-deprecating laugh, taking one final deep
breath before standing up straight and confidently grinning. It was still clear
that she was more fatigued by this exam than she should have been, but she no
longer looked half as miserable.
Work through the pain, as they say.
"Are... are you okay, Homura...?" Mirai asked worriedly, concerned for the
young woman they all respected as a leader.
The brunette met Mirai's gaze for an instant, before blushing and looking away.
"Training's no good if it doesn't challenge you, right?" she said, still a
touch shaky. "Whoo. Just gotta walk it off, then I'll be good as new."
Haruka smiled knowingly at Homura.
"Mm. It seems like someone didn't get that much sleep last night," she observed
shrewdly. "Am I right~?"
Homura blushed, and nervously cleared her throat.
"I-I have no idea what you're talking about," she said, obviously evasive. The
bags under her eyes were clearly evident. "Come on, enough talk. If we're all
done out here, we might as well head back to the showers. Eh?"
And, saying this, she started off in the direction of the school, her cheeks
clearly red even from behind. It was clear that she was simply dodging the
issue.
But Mirai, at least, wasn't about to press the matter.
"A shower sounds good..." she said, coughing a bit anxiously.
Yomi clapped her hands, beaming.
"Ooh! Are you going to join us for real, then?" she said to Mirai. "No towel,
or bathing suit, or that kind of thing?" The blonde's eyes were twinkling with
excitement. She bounced up and down eagerly.
Hikage's lips quirked. Haruka quietly purred.
Mirai blushed, and hurried on after Homura, quickly followed by a cheerful
Yomi.
"Homura seems very stressed," Haruka remarked, smiling knowingly.
Hikage shrugged dismissively.
"She gets worked up over stuff like that," she said. "Ain't all touchy-feely
like those Hanzo girls."
Haruka laughed.
"Perhaps!"
Chapter End Notes
     A/N: The only thing that I dislike about the new Senran Kagura game
     is that Homura's Crimson Squad isn't playable from the get-go. Other
     than that, it is a very fun game. Hehehe... I've already completed
     the story missions for Hanzo and Hebijo, and am on the first chapter
     of Gessen...
     So you guys get another chapter of Perplexed, since I've been feeling
     pretty SK~! ;P
     Updated: 10-18-14
     TTFN and R&R!
     – — ❤
***** Release and Surrender *****
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
The water was hot on Homura's skin, gushing forcefully from the nozzle
overhead. Dirt and grime were peeled from her epidermis by the scalding spray,
flushed in steamy rivulets down her naked, voluptuous form. A rosy flush became
evident in her skin, tanned flesh soaking in the relaxing spray. Her head was
tilted back, eyes shut as she silently luxuriated in the sensation of hot water
droplets lovingly massaging her tense and aching muscles.
Soap was in her hands, fingers working over the wax-colored bar. Watery suds
streamed down Homura's arm, tickling her navel and coursing past her thighs.
Her bust and nether regions were paler than the rest of her, a farmer's tan
which extended to practically everything but her privates. Firm, toned muscles
rippled beneath deceptively soft and smooth skin, lithe and sinuous limbs
showing just how gracefully they could move.
Homura had her back to her classmates as she showered. Her eyes were clenched
tightly shut as she worked the suds over her naked body, shivering minutely
whenever her thoughts strayed to the possibility of a certain first-year's
gaze.
What was wrong with you today, Homura...? the young woman silently asked
herself, laving soapy water gently over her round and pert breasts, shuddering
a little as her fingers accidentally brushed against troublesomely stiff
nipples.
She thought, with a grimace, of her performance in the obstacle course. Usually
she was the second or third to finish – on her better days she came in first as
often as not.
But last place?
Even if it wasn't a competition, still this irked the girl. She'd been sloppy,
more than once coming dangerously close to slipping up. How many of those
dummies had been only inches away from scoring a hit on her? Far too many, by
any reasonable person's measure. In Homura's personal opinion, her performance
had been unacceptably poor.
She was scarcely able to focus. Her thoughts kept being drawn away from the
task at hand. Certain... recent events... had kept Homura terribly distracted.
She grit her teeth, blushing almost imperceptibly as she thought of Suzune-
sensei's position...
It was obvious what the woman had been doing, and also who she had been
thinking of as she did it. As difficult as it was for Homura to admit – even to
herself – she had just finished doing something very similar when she stumbled
across their teacher, half-naked, in that very compromising position.
Thoughts of it had plagued her all night. It had been almost impossible for
Homura to fall asleep, and her rest had been quite fitful. Her body ached far
too pleasantly at the recollection of Suzune-sensei's moans, and at the memory
of a certain first-year's most unlikely member.
Even now her skin was burning hot in a way that had nothing to do with the
temperature of the shower. She thought of Yomi, and Mirai, and even Hikage. It
was clear to her that those three had quite enjoyed themselves yesterday, and
Haruka seemed similarly pleased with the squeals and yelps she was presently
managing to elicit from a certain eyepatch-wearing otaku.
"Eeek! H-Haruka...sama...!"
"Oh, my. Your expression is so adorable, Mirai-kun~"
Some decidedly lewd whimpers came to Homura's ears even over the sound of
running water from five distinct nozzles. The young woman's cheeks felt hotter
than the flames of her seventh sword, and she imagined that her face was just
as red. In her mind's eye, she could not help but see the lusty, seductive
Haruka doing some very NC-17 things to poor, lucky Mirai's pe...
Homura gulped and forced herself to try and think of something completely
unsexy and unarousing. The subsequent mental image of a certain member of Hanzo
National Academy's elite class in a skimpy, semi-transparent teddy did nothing
to stem the growing ache.
If anything, Homura only got that much wetter and hotter.
Her state still had nothing to do with the shower.
"Ah, Mirai-chan is standing up!"
"Mm. It seems big no matter how many times I look at it."
A part of Homura wished she could just die right there. Another part urged her
to turn around and join her classmates.
She hesitated.
===============================================================================
Haruka tittered lustily, cupping Mirai's small and perky breasts in her hands.
Soap suds overflowed from between her fingers, and glittering eyes drank in the
view of her adorable kouhai's trembling body. Under the very thin pretense of
helping the girl wash, she laved her hands up and down Mirai's front, trailing
from the tiniest swell of a petite bosom to the leanest curve of a tight belly.
Mirai's head was sandwiched between the sultry blonde's breasts, wet raven
locks spilling suggestively over vast, heaving mounds. Blushing hotly and
looking a tad shamefaced as moisture dribbled from a cute slit while a
formidable length of boneless flesh stirred and stiffened, Mirai gasped and
shuddered. Her lips parted in whines and mewls and whispers of "Haruka-
sama...!"
Hikage watched with an almost dispassionate expression as Haruka molested the
first year, fondling the slight and slender Mirai with zealous abandon. The
verdette's lips were quirked a tiniest bit at the corners, and her cheeks were
dusted with the faintest hue of pink. Trembling minutely, quivering and quaking
with a physical arousal, she beheld the scene unfolding.
Yomi hummed with eyes closed, giggling a little bit as she listened to the
sounds Mirai and Haruka were making. She worked a lather of shampoo into her
hair, smiling as hot water poured down her voluptuous form in coursing streams
and rivulets that trickled over and around the swell of ample curves. She
swayed her hips absentmindedly, loins moist.
"Hoho, Mirai-kun... you really are astoundingly large down there," Haruka
teased, brushing the tip of her index finger over the base of her junior's
shaft. Her bosom heaved around the girl's head, and her legs wrapped around
Mirai's.
"I wish it wasn't so big," the lass mumbled, squirming and appearing distinctly
self-conscious. "It's so awkward when I wear panties, or a swimsuit..."
"It doesn't bulge any more than my chest does," Haruka coyly replied, giving
the shaft a squeeze. "Significantly less so, I should think."
"Yeah, but your chest is..." Mirai blushed. "W-Well, I'd rather have boobs like
yours than a penis like this."
She hissed, then, whimpering as Haruka began to stroke. Yomi cracked her eyes
open as she rinsed the shampoo out of her hair, and Hikage shut off the faucet
of her own shower.
"Your penis is nicer to look at than Haruka's tits, though," the latter bluntly
remarked, walking over to Mirai and Haruka. "I feel happier staring at your
dick than at her rack."
Mirai blushed still more hotly, and Haruka cocked an eyebrow at her classmate.
"Really?" said both, one in a tone of glad expectancy, the other with an air of
wry, almost facetious disappointment. Mirai smiled bashfully while Haruka
theatrically pouted.
"I think both are perfectly lovely," Yomi cheerfully supplied, turning off her
faucet as well and shaking her head to cast off some of the moisture.
Glistening beads of water flew through the air, a gorgeous sight that made at
least one classmate's breath hitch for just a moment.
"Yes, be proud of that marvelous thing between your legs," Haruka purred,
sensually stroking up to the tip of Mirai's cock, teasing the phallus to full
height. "It's so much fun to play with... and it looks far more appealing on
you than it would on anyone else~"
Mirai shivered and turned her head to one side. Blushing fiercely, she buried
her face in Haruka's chest and arched her back in torturous delight. Weakly she
bucked her hips and groaned into the beautiful blonde's breast. Her tip brushed
between Haruka's thighs, making her coo sultrily.
"You guys are spoiling me," said Mirai softly, nuzzling Haruka's bosom as the
water streamed over their skin. "If you keep telling me that my dick looks so
nice, I'm gonna start feeling tempted to show it off..."
"I don't see any problem with that," said Hikage bluntly, idly running a hand
through her short, green hair. "It'd be a nice view."
"I could shorten the hem of your skirt for you," Yomi sweetly offered, gently
clasping her hands together. "Who knows what I could make from the fabric?"
"Cut it above the thigh, and Mirai-kun can go commando underneath," suggested
Haruka playfully, her eyes twinkling with a fairly evil glee. She squeezed her
legs together, feeling Mirai's hot phallus twitch and pulse between them.
The showerhead above them continued to spray. Apart from their voices, that was
the only sound in the room.
"D-Don't tease me," said Mirai, although she looked rather pleased with all
this flattery. "Ngh!❤" she whimpered, bucking her hips and panting. Her manhood
ached against Haruka's skin, and her chest felt tightly constricted. "Everyone
would see it if I did that..."
"Is that a bad thing?" asked Hikage.
"Well, I mean... I'd be embarrassed."
"Ah. I don't get it," said Hikage. "We've told you what a good dick it is. Why
should you still be embarrassed of it?"
"Not of it, maybe," said Mirai, blushing and looking up from Haruka's ample
bosom. "But I don't want strangers looking at it, you know?"
"I don't," said Hikage flatly. "Yomi?"
"I don't, either," said Yomi cheerfully. She embraced Mirai from behind and
laid hands on the girl's chest, caressing the nubs of her breasts. "Does it
matter what strangers think?"
"I'd get arrested for indecent exposure if I went around with it hanging out,
though!" Mirai said weakly, nervously chuckling.
"Mmm! I'd enjoyseeing you handcuffed and strip searched~" Haruka tittered,
patting her junior on the bum.
Mirai flushed, feeling herself harden still further between Haruka's thighs.
Her mind went pleasantly hazy as the warmth of that voluptuous body seeped into
her own. She pressed her lips to the skin inside Haruka's cleavage, rosy from
the warmth of the water, and she kissed with an open mouth and searching
tongue, tasting a saltiness and a sweetness that pleased her immensely.
Feeling Yomi's hands on her chest, and hoping in secret that the older girl's
ministrations would have a beneficial effect on her bust size, Mirai closed her
eyes and let herself sink into the pleasant, mindnumbing sensations of...
"Hey," came the voice of Homura, interjecting itself with a certain slight
hesitance. "Um, hey, guys."
Hikage turned to face the de facto leader of their merry little band.
"Hi," said the verdette in her droning, languid tone. "Do you want something,
Homura?"
Homura blushed and fidgeted, looking unusually conscious of her present nudity.
The way she positioned her hands made it seem almost like she half-wanted to
cover herself and hide her bare flesh and private places from the searching
eyes of her classmates. That was silly, though. Homura had never been
especially bashful around comrades, not as far as it concerned her body in
platonic situations.
But then, this wasn't quite platonic, was it? They were presently in the midst
of doing some very lusty and perverted things to Mirai, indulging at the most
generous in a romantic sort of passion for their classmate, and at worst taking
advantage of her sweet personality and conveniently pleasing body.
Homura looked at Mirai, her eyes flitting to where the petite lass was
sandwiched against Haruka's body and embraced by Yomi, spooning the dirty
blonde and being fondled by the more flaxen. Her cheeks reddened more deeply,
seeing Mirai's perky white ass and small, trembling breasts, and she stared
uncontrollably at the base of Mirai's manhood.
She swallowed, her eyes wide and faintly glassy.
Hikage understood without having to be told.
"Oh," she said slowly. "You want to fuck Mirai."
Mirai turned her head, removing her entranced lips from Haruka's bosom. She
clearly started, and she looked at Homura and Hikage with an abashed
expression. It was not a shamefaced look such as she had given on the first
revelation of her gender, not a guilty or self-doubting visage that was turned
in their direction. But neither was it a super confident or seductive look, not
rakish or playful or overly pleased.
She looked like a deer in headlights, for a moment, and she stared at Homura
with a very red face. A shiver convulsed her slight form, making her shudder
and rock against Haruka, writhing beside Yomi. She panted cutely and bucked her
hips, unconsciously and compulsively thrusting herself between Haruka's thick
and quivering thighs.
"Ohoho," said Haruka, looking pleasedly at Homura and stroking Mirai's bum. "Do
you want to join in, now, captain?"
She said the title facetiously, having never been one for deference or
formality. It was a technically accurate appelation, though none of them ever
really verbally acknowledged the reality of Homura's unofficial authority
within the elite class. They did respect her, though, and they generally
followed her lead. But that didn't mean they were her subordinates, or in any
way beholden to her.
Homura knew this, and she was clearly irked therefore by Haruka's cheeky
courtesy. She crossed her arms over her chest, blushing a little more hotly.
"It... It's not like that," she said, her words sounding a bit hollow when her
eyes wandered very quickly back to the proof of Mirai's phallus, the base of
that cock sawing between Haruka's legs, rubbing up against her sex. "I'm not a
p-pervert, or anything like that."
"What's perverted about it?" asked Yomi. "We're just spending time with our
precious classmate. There's nothing wrong with that."
"No, of course there... there's nothing wrong with it," Homura weakly agreed,
gulping. She visibly shivered despite the warmth of the showers, and the sheen
of the water dripping down her frame emphasized the beauty of her well toned
figure and dusky, tanned skin. "It's not like I'm saying you're perverts,
but..."
"You must be a real deviant, if you think what we're doing is perverted,"
Hikage deadpanned. "Get your mind out of the gutter."
Homura blushed, and she shot a heated look at the verdette. Quite
uncharacteristically, or at least unusually, Hikage smiled. It was a clear
betrayal of cheek that left Homura rather out of her reckoning, and she stared
now at Hikage in an expression of clear bewilderment.
Hikage shrugged.
Homura shook her head, deciding not to let herself get too worked up.
"Look," she said softly, shifting uncomfortably and eyeing her classmates with
a new and pronounced awareness of their bodies, all beautiful and sensual in
their own, respective ways. "I'm not... it's not like, like I'm... I-I just
want to help."
"Help?" said Mirai, looking a little confused.
Homura fidgeted.
"I don't want you to, uh..." she said uncertainly. "To feel like you don't b-
belong, or anything like that." More resolved, she put a hand to her breast,
and a light kindled in her eyes. "I know you must be feeling confused, Mirai,
and I'm sure you're upset. But you're a member of this class, the same as any
of us. You're one of us. Nothing can change that!"
It was an impressive thing to say, and Homura did not lack either force or
conviction. Still, the timing and context of her statement were a little...
well, it was a bit pointless to say this now, wasn't it? The sentiment was
appreciated, but it seemed a bit comical for her to say all these things at
this point, when Mirai's primary fears and insecurities had already been tamed.
Homura seemed soon aware of this, and she flushed a little shamefacedly,
looking down at her toes.
"...well, that's what I should have said a while ago," she finished. "I'm
sorry, Mirai. I would've talked to you sooner, if... if I wasn't, myself...
well..."
She fidgeted yet again, and it was clear that she couldn't entirely bring
herself to look at Mirai or the others. A deeper still flush rose in her almond
cheeks, and for all her usual edge and passion she seemed very shy and abashed.
It was almost as though she had picked up a share of the insecurities that
Mirai had discarded.
Mirai smiled softly. Slowly, and just a little reluctantly, she pulled herself
away from Haruka, extricating her head from the older girl's cleavage and
removing her erection from between Haruka's thighs. Homura stared with a nearly
awestruck expression, her mouth hanging open and her eyes going as round as
Yomi's breasts.
"I get it," said Mirai quietly. She looked at Homura, her scarlet eyes shining
in a way that made the swordsman shudder. It was not an unpleasant sort of
shudder. "You... it's the same for you as it is for them. I'm sorry, Homura. I
didn't mean to, er, frustrate you."
"It's not frustrating," Homura blurted out. "I mean, uh, I don't dislike this,
or... well, you know? It's my own fault, if I'm frustrated. I'm the one who got
myself so worked up. I just... I was just stressing myself out about it,
because I was guilty. I felt like I was... I don't know."
"Like you'd be taking advantage of sweet, innocent little Mirai-kun if you
tried to satisfy your filthy desires?" suggested Haruka playfully.
Yomi giggled.
"You shouldn't get so worked up, Homura," she said. "It's not good for you.
Just relax and join us!"
"Yeah," said Hikage unconcernedly. "There's enough of Mirai for us to share."
The girl in question smiled wryly.
"Don't I get a say in this...?" she wondered, mostly unseriously.
"Sure you do," said Homura, scratching her cheek. "But... what do you say?"
Mirai's smile became more earnest, and stepping up she took Homura's hand, and
tentatively—hesitant of crossing any boundaries too soon, but secretly eager to
start—she rested her face against Homura's bosom, and she kissed the girl's
chest very close to one of her nipples.
Homura tensed up, going ramrod straight and red as a beet. Shivering
convulsively, toes curling as loins moistened, she felt herself melt under
Mirai's soft, skillful yet slightly nervous touch.
"I'd say," began Mirai slowly, whispering to Homura's nipple and sending her
breath, warm and sweet, rolling over the older girl's breast, making her shiver
a little more. "I'd say that I want to do it. I'd say I'm so, so, so happy to
have friends like you. I'd say you're beautiful, and that I've wanted to do
this since I first met you. I'd say that this is better than anything I'd ever
hoped or dreamed of, and that... that I love you guys so much. Really!"
Her eyes were a little teary, as she finished, and with a slightest sniffle she
wrapped her lips around Homura's nipple. Mirai suckled sweetly and softly, yet
with a force that she couldn't quite restrain, an eagerness of one whose
wildest and most hopelessly hopeful fantasies have come true.
Homura gasped. She arched her back, and she let out a breathless whine. Her
mind went nearly blank, for an instant, as Mirai began to slurp and suckle in
earnest. This was only the beginning, too.
Hikage draped her arms over Homura's shoulder, lazily embracing her from the
side, pressing her bosom into Homura's flank. The verdette was back to her
usual expressionless visage, though something lively and lusty now lurked under
the surface. She leaned in close and, with twinkling eyes and the slightest
quirk of her lips, kissed Homura on the cheek. There was a lot of tongue
involved.
Now came Yomi, who embraced Homura from the other side, wrapping her arms
around her hips and stroking her brown, perfectly plump and muscled ass. Her
breasts she parted around Homura's arm, and their pillowy expanse made for a
most pleasant weight and warmth. She, too, kissed Homura on the cheek. Her kiss
was warmer than Hikage's, but less explicitly sexual.
Then Haruka came up from behind, and she too wrapped her arms around Homura's
waist, but her hands she rested over the girl's thighs, and her fingers she
brought up to tease Homura's pussy and softly part her nether lips. Her breath
was hot on Homura's ear, and her bosom mashed lustily against Homura's shoulder
blades. She giggled sultrily, and she noisily smacked her lips.
"You... you guys..." said Homura, feeling her face burn and her body thrill.
Electricity coursed through her veins. "Ah... d-damn, that's...! OH!"
She gave a start and a gasp when something big and hard and hot suddenly
pressed itself up against her, slipping between her legs, which spread
themselves in a spasm of eagerness, and pressing its tip between her labia,
which Haruka held so considerably open.
It was Mirai's penis.
That's right. Mirai had a penis. Of course, she knew this already. They'd all
seen it. She'd seen it very well. But now, now she truly knew it. She felt it,
and she measured it with her flesh, feeling it out and exploring its every
contour as it was slowly, gently, torturously thrust inside her.
Homura wanted to know even more. She wanted to know everything about this
strange and marvelous thing that plunged itself into her core. She wanted to
know Mirai more deeply still, she wanted to know all her classmates, and she
wanted them to know her.
In the biblical sense, of course.
Chapter End Notes
     A/N: I think I wrote the first half of this chapter not long after
     the last part of this fic. But the second half... well, as I'm only
     posting it now, I think you can guess how recently I actually got
     around to completing this chap. I really liked this fic, it's a very
     sweet one for all the smutty premise, and I've long felt a touch
     guilty about leaving it hanging. And while I've been working
     variously on commissions and my feeble excuse for an attempt at an
     original novel, I think I might try and wrap this up in one more
     chapter.
     Just to give it closure, you know.
     Updated: 12-3-16
     TTFN and R&R!
     – — ❤
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