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Gods of the Mountain

Gauf Oct 4th, 2015 (edited) 3,069 Never
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  1.         You shiver in the cold October night despite the layers of cloth that both burden and protect you. Your feet move almost on their own beneath you, propelling you up the forested mountain path. You think back to earlier today for the eighth time as to why you are walking this lonesome road.
  2.         “You’ve been chosen, son!” the old oracle had shouted, nearly deafening you while clapping you heartily on the back, shaking your spine. “The gods’ve chosen you to serve! A great honor for you and your family to be sure!” Thunderous applause from the crowd drowned out whatever else the diviner had planned to say. Roars of approval and smiles spread from the pavilion to the town center surrounding you in a wall of sound and joy, not only for the approval of the gods and the guarantee of a good harvest next year, but also because it was not one of their sons to be sent up the mountain.
  3.         You would curse them for their scapegoating of you but you know that in their place you would have done the same. The gods did need their sacrifice despite your personal objections. Whether it was fate or random chance the powers that be held both in their grasp, so with only minor complaints you accepted your fate and trudged up the mountain in ceremonial robes practically covered in protective charms that would not save you from the dark end that awaited you at the summit.
  4.         Sooner than you expected the first of many peaks was beneath you. A small clearing, an altar, a shrine and a bench greet you. Well, a brief rest couldn’t hurt, right? You plop down on the bench with a heavy sigh and crane your neck back to try and find the distant top of the mountain but give up after a minute.
  5.         The shrine and altar catch your eye. There is no dedication, no etching of the god or even an indication of their name. It sits hollow and empty with naught but a few grains of rice as a sacrifice upon the altar.
  6.         Finding yourself struck by an odd fancy, you stand and approach the shrine. Perhaps a bit strange to pray to the gods who chose you for sacrifice, but you think that you need their blessing more than anyone else. You kneel and pray for blessings at the altar, silently wishing for luck and deliverance from the chill and danger. A glow penetrates your closed eyes, and when you open them a hovering silent blue flame is the first thing that greets you.
  7.         You stare, mesmerized, at the floating flame. It slowly bobs up and down seemingly staring back at you, oscillating slightly. Then it suddenly zooms left, out of your sight as you stagger to your feet and wheel around only to find the blue fire flying around you, top to bottom and front to back. You hold your arms in tight, clutching at your sleeves and you desperately hope to yourself that it isn’t hostile. It stops just as suddenly, hovering opposite the shrine with you between the two. You glance back and forth, wondering if perhaps this is a sign from above, and if so, for what? The fire jerks away from you, towards a section of the woods off the path, both up and down. And then it floats there in the air, as if waiting for you to follow. You breathe in deep and take a tentative step forward…
  8.         It dodges back as you step forward, and again and again as you follow it. Soon you are trailing through a dark, seemingly untraveled set of woods. You should be more cautious following strange lights, but then again what’s the worst that could happen? You could die, but you were expecting that anyway. The woods are dark and deep, and you stumble occasionally on your long robes, but the will o’ wisp always remains close to you, providing just enough light to see when added to the sporadic moonlight. Then a cloud goes over the moon, and the fire winks out and you are alone in the darkness, clutching at a too-large robe in a pitch-black forest.
  9.         “H--hello?” You call out to the dark, self-conscious of how ridiculous you sound. “Is there someone there?” Silence is the only response. You gather your courage and set off in roughly the direction you were walking. The darkness is thick and oppressive and you find yourself stumbling over tree roots and cracking twigs underfoot. Just as you are about to despair, however, a light flickers into view far off among the trees. Carefully, you walk towards it until it comes into clearer view. A large, sprawling manor of vaguely eastern design sits incongruously in the middle of thick forest, some trees right up against its sides. The only word you can think of to describe it is ‘massive’ though perhaps ‘nonsensical’ would work too. Without rhyme or reason the builder had tacked on dozens of rooms stacked on top of each other and hanging out into thin air, giving the entire building a rather otherworldly look.
  10.         You step out of the treeline towards the entrance of the manor with your robe wrapped tight around your body, feet tapping against the flagstones lining the path to the grand double doors that lean ever so slightly open with golden light spilling outside. The door springs open at your hesitant touch with a loud creak of ancient wood. Every square inch of the entrance hall is coated in either gold or red velvet, or often both. Steeling your nerves, you step inside.
  11.         “Hello?” you call out, closing the door behind you. “Anyone there?” Thumping footsteps from your left wake you from your reverie as a red armored figure bursts out from what you thought was wall paneling, skidding to a halt in front of you. Two long, fox like tails poke from the back of her armor and a sword is clearly at her hip but she hasn’t drawn on you yet. Nonetheless, you instinctively take a step backwards right into the door.
  12.         “Pardon my tardiness!” she practically shouts at you. “I didn’t expect you to arrive for another hour! Did the guidefire arrive early?” She tilts her head sideways and stares right at you, face obscured by a demonic mask. You drop your arms from the defensive position they had thrown themselves into. “Well, jeez, no need to look so worried. I’m not gonna eatcha or something.”
  13.         “Where am I?” You manage to get out after a moment of calming your nerves. “And who are you?” The guard leans back slightly, looking up at you with yellow eyes you can barely see through the mask.
  14. “This is the estate of the Asamu. If you’re asking about the building itself, we’re currently standing just inside of Shiro Akaneden. And I’m Shizuka Yumi. I’m a guard, though clearly not a very good one.” She chuckles at her own lack-of-joke. “But man, you’re early. Everyone thought you’d get here in an hour or so.  You might actually get to participate!”
  15.         “Participate in what, great god of the mountain?” You’re proud that there’s only a bit of quailing in your voice there though she still looks at you oddly.
  16.         “Why, the ceremony of course. I can’t exactly let you drink anything before it starts since you need to be clean, but you can get a bite to eat if you want.” Oh god. She’s going to eat you, you’re sure of it. But this is what the gods want, so you accept her offer and she bounds off down the corridor just fast enough that you can barely keep up before slowing to a much more sedate pace after a few twists and turns through virtually indistinguishable red-gold decorated rooms. Yumi takes a deep breath and glances back to make sure you’re still there before whispering “Draw yourself up, man! Gotta look good for your audience!”
  17.         “Audience?” You manage to squeak out, straightening your shoulders and fixing your posture almost on reflex. Yumi doesn’t respond, she just knocks thrice on a door you could scarcely see before throwing it wide in a manner that somehow comes across as respectful. The door swings wide, revealing a room of chattering women who soon fall silent, all staring at you. Each of them is dressed in clothes more beautiful and detailed than the last, and foxtails sway to and fro behind them as they stare at you with hunger. You can’t help but feel ridiculous in your sacrificial robes, with ridiculous protective charms embroidered on them compared to the magnificence of the first woman on your left, silk dress richly embroidered with a scene of a dragon teaching a woman how to read.
  18.         “Ladies, this is tonight’s entertainment,” Yumi pauses for a moment. “Um. What’s your name, again?” There are a few short, polite chuckles from some of the fox women and one loud cackle from a woman all in black in the back, but most lean forward and listen intently for what you have to say.
  19.         “Anon. My name is Anon.”
  20.         “Anon, huh? That’s a new one. Well, Anon here is just dropping by for some food before his big moment on the altar. Though I’m sure he wouldn’t mind some polite conversation…?” You find yourself led through the crowd by the crowd as Yumi abandons you to ‘go back to her post’ or something. Giggling women surround you, faces carefully covered by highly decorated fans. Food is pressed into your hand by a woman with only a single tail. You’re fairly sure this is fish and some sort of fried bean curd but you only have so much time to eat in between the questions hurled at you en masse. Who are your parents, how did you like the food, do you mind if I touch your hair, those clothes are simply fascinating what is this pattern for, what IS that scent on your skin, my, aren’t you handsome? The questions and your answers blend together in your mind until a hand yanks you out of the crowd and a soft but firm voice speaks over the polite din.
  21.         “I think he’s had enough for now. Come with me, Anon.” The woman in black has a firm hold of your wrist and whether you want to come with her or not was irrelevant given the strength that she pulls you along with. You find yourself sat on a stool in front of a low table across from two women. The woman in black gazes at you with interest, nine tails twitching gently. Next to her sits a brown-haired and irritatingly chipper woman with three tails perked up as she stares at you with a smile hidden by the cup of tea clenched in both hands.
  22.         “A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Anon. I am Sang Yi.” The woman in black says, smiling at you.
  23.         “And I’m Miyako! Mori Mikayo, but you can just call me Miya if you want.” Miyako sips at her tea and grimaces. “Too bitter. Hey, Sang, can I-” Sang cuts her off before Miyako can finish whatever she wants to say.
  24.         “You seem a bit nervous, Anon. Is something on your mind?” You snatch your eyes away from the chattering crowd and guiltily meet her gaze. “It’s natural to be concerned, but such worrying will only cast a shadow on the ritual to come. Tell me what’s wrong.”
  25.         “O, great gods of the mountain, I ever struggle to be worthy,” you recite from the holy book whose pages you can practically see in your mind's eye, “Yet… Still I worry that I may not be the right choice?” Sung snorts.
  26.         “‘Great god of the mountain’ huh?” Sung turns to Miyako, red eyes flashing. “I’m more of a plains kind of woman myself. You’re still telling them this garbage?” The three-tail smiles apologetically.
  27.         “We did try to get them to stop, Mrs. Yi, but you tell them the new and they stick with the old, you know?” Realization starts to sink into your brain, that perhaps you may have misunderstood something.
  28.         “Ugh. That’s human for you I guess. Stupid but delicious.” Sung licks her lips with a too-long tongue and you become intimately aware of how sharp her teeth look. No, you’re pretty sure you got it right the first time.
  29.         “Quit it, Sung. You’re scaring him, and it’s nearly his big moment!” Miyako turns to you, setting down the cup. “Listen, you’re not delicious. Sung’s just weird.” Her voice hitches and the next few words tumble from her mouth. “Not that, like, you’re not sexy or something! I’m sure any woman would be happy to be your blushing bride! Lady Toumaru will be delighted with you, I’m sure! You’ll make an excellent husband!”
  31.         What.
  33.         Your brain spins to a screeching halt. Husband? Sung laughs at your confusion, loud and long.
  34.         “What- you didn’t know?” She slams the table with a clenched fist, tears spilling down her face. “What -- what did you THINK was happening?” The entire crowd has turned to you again, dozens of golden eyes watching you carefully.
  35.         “I--Um--I’m supposed to be the sacrifice, right?” You stumble for a second but a grim resolve grips you. “The oracle chose me so I was the one to go up the mountain and die this year. For the harvest. It has to be done once every three years or the rice won’t grow.” Your voice trails off into the complete silence that envelops the room. Sung has quit her laughter and the stare she directs at Miyako is murderous. The three-tail clears her throat.
  36.         “I’m sorry, Anon. I- Something must have gotten lost in translation, I mean, we never wanted you to think you were a-” Miyako waves a hand in the air, searching for the polite way to express herself. “a-a sacrifice. Even in the old days we didn’t kill anyone. A husband for a harvest, that’s what I told them…” Sang switches her gaze to you and her expression softens.
  37.         “We’re not going to kill you, Anon.” The weight on your shoulders vanishes and you straighten up. And then the rest of it hits you. Married? You haven’t even met this woman and yet you’re getting married in twenty minutes? You must have said or whispered as much as one of the women watching you with four tails speaks up.
  38.         “Yes, dear. Lady Aya Toumaru will be rewarded for her faithful service to all our people with your hand in marriage.”
  39.         “And I don’t get a say in this?” The woman eyes you curiously as another with six tails speaks up.
  40.         “No. That is, after all, the deal.”
  41.         “It wouldn’t be much of a deal if we didn’t get our end of the bargain, would it?” the first woman sniffed. “Really, Anon, she’s a powerful noble from a rich family! What is there to worry about?”
  42.         “Love? General attraction? A chance to get to know each other?” you say. There are a few polite snickers and the six-tails smiles.
  43.         “I do say that you will get to know her remarkably well. The rest comes with time, Anon.” She looks like she has more to say but a bell chooses that moment to ring.
  44.         “Ah, it’s time!” she says, relieved. “Let’s be off then!” Sung grips you by the wrist and practically drags you out of the room, leaving Miyako with the crush of people and pulling you into a corridor nearly empty except for a few one-tailed maids. She pulls at your wrist, dragging you to an unknown and surprisingly scary future.
  45.         “Ask your questions.” Sung says flatly. “Better to hear the answers from me instead of your bride.” You clear your throat.
  46.          “Can you at least tell me about her? She’s a stranger still.”
  47.          “She won’t stop being a stranger just because I tell you what her favorite color is.” Sung grumbles. “She’s a manager and bookkeeper of no small importance. She’ll have time enough for you and your children so don’t worry about that. She’s on her fifth tail, which if you didn’t know means that she’s about four hundred years old.”
  48.         “Four hundred?!” you parrot.
  49.         “Four hundred and fifty… three, I think? Don’t look at me like that, we live a long time compared to humans.”
  50.         “Does that mean you’re eight hundred?!”
  51.         “Didn’t your mother ever tell you it’s not polite to ask a lady her age? But yes. Older than that, actually. Kitsune and Kumiho live, well, we live practically forever. compared to most mamono and men -- and you will too.” You decide to just not think about that for now.
  52.         “What does she look like?” You blurt out.
  53.         “You’ll find out, won’t you?” Sung says, stopping before a richly decorated set of double doors. She turns and places both hands on your shoulders. “I can’t promise this officially Anon, but if Lady Toumaru proves to be a hateful or… vicious wife know that I will take you in. The house of Yi does not suffer such nonsense. Now, it is time for you to go.” She pushes you towards the door and vanishes down a side passage when you look away. You find yourself wondering what prompted that offer and feel slightly queasy.
  54.         Steeling yourself, you throw open the doors into the bustling hall. A maid spots you and leads you to the altar at the head of the room where a woman in grey robes frantically whispers to an eight-tailed fox. In a few dizzying minutes you are knelt, fussed over, re-positioned, blessed, fussed over again, hair fixed, re-positioned and finally told to just wait there. So you kneel patiently in silence as the hall fills with guests before you feel someone settle down next to you.
  55.         You open your eyes and look around. A woman in a golden robe stares back when you look at her. She’s short, maybe a full head or more shorter than you but with her kneeling position it’s hard to be sure. Her platinum gold hair hangs loose over her neck and upper back and cut short only over her eyes which examine you much as you examine her. Her frame is mostly hidden by the gold dress she wears but you can still make out the curves of hips and breasts through it. She catches your gaze, smiling but saying nothing.
  56.         Her five tails are bound tight together with a gold ring which blends in with her fur and Sung’s comment about her age comes back to you.  Four hundred and fifty three? She can’t be more than thirty two, and that’s being harsh. A light touch on your right hand wrenches you from your reverie. Her hand overlays yours as she turns her head fully to look at you. She mouths ‘we finally meet’ and you nod and smile. Then the preacher-woman claps her hands and the crowd falls silent. Lady Toumaru pulls her head back and stares straight ahead and you reluctantly do the same.
  57.          The ceremony is both mercifully short and soul-crushingly long. The priestess’ words drag on and on about duty, love and acceptance but when all's said and done it only takes about twenty-five minutes before she runs you through your vows. In a haze you agree to accept ‘Her Ladyship Aya Toumaru’ as your lawfully wedded wife, to protect and serve faithfully, to never desert her and so on. She promises much the same but her voice is steady in contrast to how you feel. Two hours ago you thought you would be dead and now look-
  58.         “You may now kiss the bride.” You turn to Lady Toumaru and the eyes of the entire congregation burn the back of your head. She looks at you expectantly, lips slightly parted and you lean in to meet them. The kiss is not perfect with your noses bumping against each other for a moment yet you manage. The uproar from the crowd of cheers and loud music starting up is more than enough to draw attention away from you and obliterate all thought. You and your wife stand and turn to face the crowd individually just as the first guest literally jumps on Lady Toumaru, squealing with joy.
  59.           Most of the reception goes by in a blur with dozens of people introducing themselves as Countess this or Duchess that or Baronetess so-and-so until they all blur together in your mind. The one thing that does stick out to you is the alcohol. It’s surprisingly sweet with a bitter aftertaste that reminds you of strawberries somehow. Your wife keeps passing them along to you with a “drink this” or “try this one” accompanying each from one of the guests, when you can hear over the noise at all. It’s a bit funny to you that these are the first words you and your wife have ever spoken even if it’s in a roundabout way, but a lot of things are starting to seem funny.
  60.          You mention this to Lady Toumaru and she gives you a funny sort of smile as she leads you down red-gold corridors, up flights of stairs and impossible corners. You’re not drunk, really. More like an advanced state of tipsy but it still helps to have a guiding hand when you take your fourth ninety degree turn in a row. She pushes open a door completely indistinguishable from all the rest and stumble into a bedroom. A dresser slightly open and the somewhat mussed (red) sheets on the bed are the only sign anyone lives here, but it’s clearly not a permanent residence by any means. Lady Toumaru lets go of your arm and immediately drops onto the ‘bed’, more a tangled mass of sheets and pillows than any sort of mattress.
  61.         The gold ring around her tails is discarded and Lady Toumaru lets out a sigh of relief as her tails bob free. Sitting back she looks at you like she’s noticed you for the first time.
  62.         “Come on, what are you waiting for?” She spreads her legs and gives you a seductive look as she leans back onto the pillow, gesturing with a finger for you to come. “Isn’t it about time for our wedding night?” Later you’ll ponder the strangeness of those being her first real words to you but for now your dick gets the better of your brain and you jump on her. She giggles and widens her legs even further with just the faintest sliver of pale flesh showing through her dress now to make room for you and wrapping you in a hug as you press your body against hers.
  63.         Lady Toumaru practically rips your clothes off your body, robe coming off in a flash and the light tunic and underclothes underneath it following it seconds later leaving you exposed in front of her (or rather on top of her). Her eyes fixate on your cock rubbing up against her dress and you can hear her breathe sharply. Fear and tension rise in your head.
  64.         “Lady Toumaru, am -- am I not-” you say. She snaps her gaze away from your cock and focuses on your eyes as a blush rages across her face. Unconsciously she licks her lips before she speaks.
  65.         “Aya. It’s Aya to you.” Absentmindedly she reaches down with one hand and rubs the head of your dick while pulling at her sash. Her dress comes undone in fits and slides down her body, exposing her bit by bit. She’s lying there naked on her gold wedding dress and her tails, smallish breasts heaving on her chest. Aya is pale and unmarred in every respect, the only staring at you with lidded eyes and biting her lip, just waiting. Now or never, you decide. You aim yourself and press your cockhead against her slit, causing Aya to snort and turn her head to one side. After a few seconds of fumbling you find your angle and a quick buck of her hips hooks you in. Air hisses between your teeth as you try to catch your bearings, hands resting on either side of Aya’s chest but slender legs pull you inwards towards her.
  66.         Aya’s insides burn at you and clutch with frightening intensity at your cock but still you manage to slide deeper every second, slickness guiding you to her burning core. You’re hunched over her now, trying to keep your eyes on hers as you slowly slide as deep as you can. Aya stares back with a smug look on her flushed face and a knowing smile.
  67.         “You like?” Aya teases.
  68.         “Holy FUCK...” is all you manage to pant out in response. And then you’re as deep as you can go. Aya twists her hips a bit and grunts but otherwise simply waits, looking up at you. You take a moment to catch your breath and then start moving. It’s slow and somewhat clumsy but you soon establish a rhythm between the two of you and you can enjoy watching her reactions, the flush spread from Aya’s face and down her chest while she closes her eyes and bites her lip even harder as you thrust in and out of her. Her hands reach for nothing around her, eventually settling on grabbing fistfuls of bedsheets as you slam into her. The air between you two is thick with lust and something almost sticky-sweet that you can’t quite place.
  69.         Soon, too soon you can feel yourself nearing your end. She must be able to tell, because a smile twitches at her lips and you feel her legs wrapping around your lower back and tugging even as you try to slow down, to pull out and cool off or something. Huffing with exertion she slams her hips up into yours as you mentally beg her to stop, sliding back an inch or so away from her but it’s fruitless -- she’s locked onto you and her insides are squeezing at you now. Your eyes flutter shut as you fall over the edge, seed pouring into her like a flood. Aya hums wordlessly as you stiffen and paint her insides white. And then it’s over.
  70.         You’re panting above a woman (your wife, your brain reminds you) who you just met not two hours ago. You just fucked her (on her wedding dress) and came inside of her like she was some kind of cheap prostitute. Disgust for yourself wells in the pit of your stomach and you try to pull away from Aya. Once, twice, and then she pulls you down onto her with superhuman strength. Surely you must be crushing her, but she looks fine -- happy, even.
  71.         Aya lies there with a satisfied grin. Her hands occasionally stroke your chest and body while she lies tangled with you. Strangely, you don’t feel tired, like you could have done that forever. Your disgust still fills you and you roll off of her. Aya makes a little grunting noise and still clings to you while you lie on the blankets, tails wrapping around your chest and stomach. Idly you stroke one with a spare hand. It comes to your attention even through your drunken haze and self-hatred that Aya is hugging you.
  72.         She doesn’t seem upset that you fucked her like a whore on her wedding dress. In fact, she’s humming a tone into one of your ears while she pulls you flush against her. Guilt and shame slowly fade in her embrace as she spoons you. Your new wife kisses your neck and dimly you become aware of certain bits of her anatomy pressing into your back. The air immediately goes from ‘comfortably warm’ to ‘sweltering’ in only a few seconds. You stiffen in more ways than one when a delicate hand crawls down your stomach to your groin.
  73.         “H-hey,” You manage to get out when Aya rubs your glans with a thumb. From steel-hard to diamond-hard. She gives you a quick pump, then another, hand gliding over your still-slick erection as the last few minutes of doubt vanish from your mind. “What are you doing?” Stupid. Stupid, stupid. Could you ask any more obvious questions?
  74.         “Getting you ready to go again~” Aya says sweetly into your ear. “I didn’t quiiite finish.” Her hand tightens slightly to get a firmer grip while slowly but steadily increasing the pace of her strokes. Oh. Well. That’s slightly embarrassing. Still, you can fix this. You move to get up but Aya’s tails tighten around your chest and she whispers. “Don’t get up. I’ve got this.” With that, she releases her grip on you and rolls you onto your back.
  75.         Aya stands and stretches to the sky and from your position the view is magnificent. The candlelight isn’t enough to light the whole room but even so you get a much better look at her -- your wife, your brain reminds you -- your wife’s body. You spend a moment or two just looking, throbbing slightly while Aya stretches. Her tails wave faintly in a nonexistent breeze before she falls back to her standing position and looks at you hungrily before falling upon you. Her hips straddle yours and she leans over you in a mirror of your earlier position. Your cock bobs against her stomach and Aya giggles and smiles at you.
  76.         “Don’t hold back, Anon.” Aya whispers down to you as she guides her hips to balance perilously on your erection. You can feel her burning sex press lightly against yours, dripping her juices onto you. If you were hard as a rock before you’re hard as steel now, cock throbbing with desperation to just be inside of her. She bites her lip while her hand grips you, holding you steady while you press into her once more. Aya presses a hand against your chest as she slides slowly down in fits and starts. You wrap your hands around her ass and guide her down a bit faster, prompting a giggle from her but you pay it no mind. At last you bottom out inside of her, stomach bulging slightly where your cock reaches her core.The two of you sit there for a moment, panting for breath and embracing the heat. Aya is the first to break the silence. “I’m going to move now, okay?” You nod distantly.
  77.         True to her word, she gently begins grinding on your pelvis and with a soft hum from her lips she leans forwards over you, face only a foot from your own. Aya’s hips shake slightly, forwards and backwards and left to right as she grinds on your cock. Her lips twitch and you can practically see the blush erupt over her upper body once more. Her tails bat gently against your legs, twitching slightly. Soon she carefully lifts herself off of you and drops suddenly down again with a gasp from you both. She’s soft but impossibly tight and the way she clenches when you bottom out makes you worry about cumming again, so soon after you start so you close your eyes and grit your teeth. A thumb brushes over your eyelids and you open them again just in time for Aya to lean in and softly kiss you.
  78.         “Look at me, Anon.” She whispers. “I meant it when I said don’t hold back, okay? I want to feel you all.” She bobs her hips and you gasp. Quickly Aya settles into a rather unsteady rhythm, going fast and slow as she sees fit. Fruitlessly your hands squeeze at her ass while Aya milks you, pussy dragging and squeezing like it has a mind of it’s own. Eventually she tires of your single-minded fixation and guides your hands to her modest breasts one at a time without breaking the flow. She’s breathing heavily now, leaning forward to wrap the two of you in a curtain of her golden hair while you work at her tits.
  79.         How much time has passed? It’s impossible to tell. It could be minutes. It could be hours. You simply can’t be sure in this closed room filled only with the sound of your and Aya’s breathing and the sound of wet flesh. Her pussy squeezes with every upthrust now, desperate to keep your cock from pulling free. Sweat pours off your body in rivulets, the air thick and sticky with desire. But you can’t hold on forever. Your stomach is coiled tight and every thrust down makes you think you’ve lost it. Your resolve only breaks when Aya stiffens and her sex goes into overdrive, rippling around you and dragging you over the edge. Your arms wrap around her back and drag her to your chest as burning cum spurts into her, once, twice, three times before stopping, joining the rest of your seed inside of her. She shudders as you come, legs squeezing your hips so hard you worry they might simply break.
  80.         Then it’s over -- her death grip releases you. You’re surprisingly tired when all is said and done, so you simply lie there cradling Aya until she pulls away from you to move her dress and retrieve a light blanket to throw over you. You watch her in the dim candlelight as she does something at the desk bare naked, tails covering most but not all of herself. She really is beautiful, golden hair and fox tails and all. Aya sets down whatever she was tidying up on the desk which to you still looks spotless as ever and sashays back to the bed, slipping under the covers and pressing her slim frame up against you. Her tails and arms wrap around your chest and with a wave the candlelight flickers out. Her legs twine with yours and she sighs heavily into your neck.
  81. “Goodnight, Anon.” Darkness and warmth swallows you, and you drift away…
  83.         You rise slowly from sleep like a man burdened with irons. Your head pounds with a dull and unpleasant beat to remind you that perhaps you did have too much to drink last night and your entire waist region is sore, but pleasantly so in a nice contrast to your skull. Someone is moving around in the room and when you crack your eyes open you are greeted with the admittedly lovely sight of Kitsune ass, bent over and searching through a ornately decorated chest of drawers. Aya -- your wife, you remember with a shock -- wheels around as if psychically attuned to your return to the land of the waking.
  84.         “Good morning, Anon! It’s time to get up and face your new in-laws.” The kitsune pulls a face that can only be described as filled with both extreme pity and schadenfreude. “It’s also time for several hundred questions about what you’ll do around the house. Just make up whatever you want, I didn’t get married to have a maid, I already have enough of those anyway.” You hear every too-cheery word of what Aya is saying, but the only thing that sticks is ‘time to get up’.
  85.         You really don’t want to get up and make this very clear through assorted mumbling, digging yourself into a nest of sheets, and closing your eyes and desperately willing the world away. Unfortunately, Aya doesn't seem to notice as she drags you bodily out of the bed by the arm. You immediately cover your nakedness before it hits you that it doesn’t really matter anymore. Aya still bats your hand away before you have a chance to remove it.
  86.         “Bashful, aren’t we?” Aya pulls you close by the arm so that you’re mere inches apart and then breaks her gaze to look slowly down. Well, you’re hard again. That didn’t take long. Aya smiles, ears perking to their full extent then looks away in disappointment. “We have a breakfast to be at in fifteen minutes. We don’t have time.” Somehow she seems more disappointed by this than you are, and you’re standing there across from your naked wife already. The Kitsune makes a bitter expression. “Unfortunately. Anyway, let’s get you dressed.” Something about the way she moves, the bob of her hips and the smell of the air has made you jump from ‘pretty hard’ to ‘desperately horny’ in the last ten seconds.
  87.         “Are you sure?” You say. Aya is already rifling through the chest of drawers once more, pulling out clothes that are suspiciously about your size.
  88.         “Yes.” She says firmly, holding up another red-and-gold robe and eyeing it (and you) carefully. “I’d want at least, oh, three rounds myself. More, if you can keep up.” She turns and throws the robe at you. “Put that on, please.” After a few moments of watching you struggle, she steps behind you and guides you through every proper step to folding it properly around yourself, bizarrely-complicated top and all. When you’re done, she grasps both shoulders and leans into your right ear.
  89.         “But that just means I’m going to ride you for a few hours when we’re done with this nonsense. Please be patient for me, okay??” Lips tease your neck for a moment and then vanish. Damn it. It was just going down, too. With a final check of her hastily applied makeup in a hand mirror, Aya bounces over to the door and flings it open and bounds out into the hall. She turns with a wide smile on her face and you follow her into the first day of your new life.
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