WARNING: Highly fucked-up shit ahead.

 

 

As Saitou latched to her, Kagome sighed. His baby fangs hurt like the devil. Already she could feel blood threading down her belly from where he’d pricked the soft underside of her breast. 

But Kagome didn’t mind it. Her love for him had always been bound up in pain. What she felt now was only a shallow ache, against the overwhelming relief of having him back in her arms.

“This is where you belong,” she murmured to him, skimming her fingers against the silver feathering of his hair, the thin violet slashes in his cheeks. “With me.”

His shaded lids remained shut as he nursed. Looking at him, Kagome couldn’t help but think of his father. The resemblance between them was more than striking—it was uncanny. If anything, this only made her feel that much more possessive of him, as if drawn by the polarizing void of her presence in him.

For the thousandth time she despaired to herself, Is there any of me in you, baby? Her greatest fear was that he’d prove to be a carbon copy of his father.

Even from her tower room, she could sense Sesshoumaru’s simmering ire. But Kagome didn’t mind this either.

“Serves him right,” she muttered to her nodding son.

As Saitou napped against her, Sesshoumaru’s aura dimmed in her perception. The tightness in her chest eased somewhat, but she didn’t have much time to appreciate it. Like diabolical clockwork, the mists beyond her balcony thickened, and Hirokin appeared. 

“My lady,” he greeted. At her baleful look, his smile became a shade more silvery. “Your boy is back with you I see.”

“He’s spurned another wet nurse,” Kagome replied.

Hirokin’s eyes glittered with pure, unvarnished insolence. “Imagine that.”

Kagome glared aside. Between that look of his and the gloating swell of his youki, there wasn’t a doubt in her mind that it was he who’d sabotaged Sesshoumaru’s repeated attempts to separate Saitou from her. Not that Hirokin was remotely trying to hide it. He was practically preening at her where he stood.

Biting the inside of her cheek, Kagome wondered how he’d managed it. Threat or trickery, or some combination of the two? While she wasn’t ungrateful for it, if he thought she was going to thank him, he had another thing coming.

“If you’ve cast some spell on my son…”

“I swear to you, my lady, I haven’t touched him.”

She didn’t miss the subtle emphasis on the word him. Pursing her lips, she’d known even before she spoke that there wasn’t a curse on her son. She’d inspected him thoroughly the moment she’d gotten him back. She’d made that accusation purely out of spite, and Hirokin knew full well that she had. He wasn’t fazed by her vicious remark any more than he was fazed by her ingratitude. Judging by the way his slit pupils had dilated and his aura was teeming, he was excited, if anything. Shows of menace and anger from her were tantamount to foreplay.

Her eyes flicked to the long wooden chest under his arm. “What’s that?”

Hirokin’s fey smile steepened. “A gift, of course.”

“Show me.”

Light scattered across the cracked crystal of his irises. “Perhaps you’d like to put your son to bed first.”

So exhausted from his latest wet-nurse debacle, Saitou only spared a groggy blink toward the demon he’d otherwise be whining and pawing after. Her son’s fascination with Hirokin was a source of consternation to Kagome. She didn’t understand it. 

Maybe there was some truth to her accusations of ensorcellment after all. But by what means Hirokin so enchanted her son lay in a realm more mystical than ordinary magic. The closest thing she’d seen to inspiring this attitude in Saitou were the stars themselves, which he’d reach for with his sharp little claws, as if he could pluck them down from the night sky and hold them to himself.

A bit of cold bright heaven to keep.

Thinking of it this way, maybe Kagome did understand a little. There was something ethereal about Hirokin that went beyond the demonic. He was a youkai through and through, of course. But there must be a touch of his mother’s divinity in him.

The thought unexpectedly heartened her, as she looked to her drowsing son. “Bedtime for you,” she decided.

After taking Saitou into the next room and settling him into his crib, she returned. With the chest laid out horizontally before him, Hirokin had seated himself on the dais, on her cushion there. Kagome’s brow twitched.

“On second thought,” she said, setting her hands on her hips, “I think I’ll turn in myself. Come back tomorrow.”

Hirokin’s look was mild. “You are irate,” he observed, as if in sympathy.

Kagome’s cheeks reddened. If she wasn’t irate before, she certainly was now! While she figured he was deliberately trying to provoke her with his usual subversive, passive-aggressive tactics, she resented how well it actually worked.

“Yeah,” she said through gritted teeth, advancing on him. “I’d say that I am. I’d say that I have every right to be. My husband keeps trying to take my son from me, and if that weren’t aggravating enough, the violent way Saitou’s rejected his wet nurses has demonesses far and wide sending me vials, clamoring for my milk like it’s some sort of magic elixir.” Pausing for breath, Kagome shook her head. “What am I, a dairy cow?”

Hirokin absorbed this tirade with a solemnity that somehow made her angrier still. “I think, my lady, you are doomed to be forever discontented.”

“Thanks, Hirokin,” she said witheringly, turning away. “Just the sort of the pep talk I was hoping for. You really are a font of optimism, you know that?”

“Disappointment is a given. Expect it, and when fortune turns in your favor it will be a most pleasant surprise.”

Kagome shook her head. “Gods, what a bleak outlook. But I can see the sense in it.” Her shoulders slumped as she turned back to him. “Even if Sesshoumaru lays off, it doesn’t matter. Saitou’s growing everyday. It’s only a matter of time until he breaks from me himself.”

“When his true fangs come in, my lady, it is you who will break him.”

Kagome frowned. She wanted to believe that she could bear it, but her baby’s milk fangs were already piercing and scoring her. If even a demoness’ stony hide couldn’t endure the stab of true fangs, how much more would they shred her own soft human flesh?

She wasn’t a pain-lover like Hirokin.

Kagome approached the dais. Arms crossed, she peered down at him where he sat. With cold alien fixity, he returned her stare, ringed in his mists like a many-coiled snake. The pearly tips of his nails touched to the resplendent chest.

“Shall I present it to you now, my lady?”

“What,” Kagome scoffed, “no story first?”

“I’ve not heard one yet to suit it.”

Despite herself, Kagome felt her curiosity pique. “All right.”

Hirokin inclined his head. “Without preamble then,” he said with an ironic smile, as he opened the chest.

At the sight that met her eyes, Kagome retreated a step, nearly tripping backward off the dais. “What the—” Pointing, she choked out, “What the hell is that?”

“A gift,” Hirokin repeated placidly, in the face of her flaring reiki. “You don’t like it?”

“Like it? It’s an abomination!” As he sighed and made to shut the lid, Kagome bit out, “Wait.”

Heart hammering, she crept forward. With bated breath, she peered down into the chest again. On a bed of smoky silk lay what appeared to be two severed demon cocks—one that was light and smooth with a wicked taper to the end, and another which was dark and ridged from base to bulbous tip. Though differing in length, both were enormous and pulsed dimly with latent youki. An engraved golden band conjoined them root-to-root and was fitted with a few loops of golden chain. Agitated in her presence, the fused cocks stiffened and seethed.

This so-called ‘gift’ was the most hideous thing Kagome had ever seen. But she couldn’t tear her eyes away from it, either.

“You made this—this thing—didn’t you?”

“Yes,” Hirokin said, with a touch of pride.

Swallowing thickly, Kagome looked to him. “How did you—their owners, what happened to them?” As Hirokin started to reply, she jerked her chin. “Never mind. I don’t want to know.”

Shakily, she turned and descended the dais. Her stomach was roiling. Crossing her arms over it, she tried to bring her internal state back under control. Demons could regrow almost anything, she reminded herself, provided they were still alive. She told herself this again, told herself that they were. She repeated it in her head like a mantra to keep her rising bile at bay.

A cool touch to her shoulder made her stiffen. “Keep your hands off me,” she snapped.

Hirokin drew his hand away. “Please, my lady, don’t dwell on such trivial details. They aren’t worth an ounce of your thought, I assure you.”

“You assure me.” Kagome rounded upon him, glaring. “What the hell good are your assurances? You’re a butchering psychopath!” When she saw he wasn’t looking at her, a vessel in her temple throbbed. “Sorry, am I boring you?”

“A little,” Hirokin replied, inspecting his nails. “Pardon me, Kagome-sama, but I find these dramatics of yours both tedious and stupid. If I am what you say, it has not repulsed you until now.”

“Everyone has their limits.” Her finger slashed toward the box. “Mutilated cocks grafted together is well past mine!”

“Mutilated?” Hirokin said, miffed. “They are pristine, perfectly preserved and intact. Enhanced, I’d dare say.”

“An atrocity is what they are.”

“What if I told you they were freely given?” Hirokin’s blue eyes glinted. “Gladly given, in fact.”

Kagome ground her teeth. “That’s an even worse commentary on you.”

“Perhaps,” Hirokin said, smiling a sliver. “But not on the cocks. They are beyond reproach, wouldn’t you agree?”

His silver-shaded lids dipped suggestively. Flushing, Kagome turned away again.

“I don’t know why you’d bring me such an atrocious thing.”

“Don’t you?” With ghostly swiftness, he was at her back again. His breath breezed past her ear. “Come now, my lady, cease this dull charade. How many times have you said you wished you could fuck me?”

Kagome clenched her jaw. Quick as a flash, his fingers slipped through the part in her robes, wove tugging through the tangle of curls at her mound. Angrily, she blasted him off her. With her reiki still crackling in the air around them, she glared down at his recoiled form in open contempt.

“I told you to keep your filthy hands off me.” When he started to rise warily from his kneel, she said, “No—stay down there where you belong.”

Something dark flickered in his gaze. Kagome felt the echo of it ripple through her. Hirokin bowed low before her. It seemed at first that he was simply prostrating himself at her feet—until she felt the skim of his lips against her instep.

“Forgive me, my lady,” he murmured into her skin.

When she didn’t spurn him for it, he continued to her ankle, up the inside of her calf. Slowly, he rose, caressing her with his mouth in supplication. Her silk robe twitched apart at his advance, her legs also. He was at her knee when she clamped her thighs shut against him.

“I should bathe,” she said.

She was messy between the legs, not from the cocks and not from him. Not for the most part, anyway. Before Saitou had been returned to her, her afternoon nap had been disturbed by Sesshoumaru invading her room unawares. 

She’d been sleeping on her stomach. Before she’d fully woken up, before she could do more than gasp, he’d shoved her robe halfway up her back and started devouring her from behind. Her sleep-fogged mind had reeled, wondering whether she was still just dreaming. Then he’d stripped her and mounted her, and the stab of him breaching her had startled her awake with a jolt. She’d thrashed, but he had her trapped within the cage of his arms and legs. All she could do was burn and moan as he moved in and out of her, tortuously shallow at first and then deepening to a bone-jarring pound as he took up one set of claws and curled them around her throat.

With the last bit of fight in her, she’d wrenched up one of her own hands and latched her blazing fingers to his. “…Fuck you, Sesshoumaru. Am I your wife or your bitch?”

“Both,” he’d rumbled back, bottoming out in her so hard she’d have choked whether he’d been throttling her or not. 

Eyes streaming, walls cinching, she’d shaken her head in vicious denial. Darkly, he’d laughed.

“Then come for me, bitch.”

Cursing him, she had.

Thinking back on it now, it was a good thing he’d busted in on her and fucked her, or otherwise he’d be tearing down the place in his infuriation over Saitou. As it was, he’d simply taken himself off to gods knew where. Probably to tear the roof down on someone else.

Frowning askance, she realized belatedly that Hirokin had spoken. As if reading her train of thought in that unguarded moment—no, almost certainly reading her train of thought—he’d said huskily, “Please don’t.”

Untying her robe, Kagome let the silk slither from her shoulders. “You really fiend for his scraps, don’t you?”

There was a sullen undercurrent in Hirokin’s youki, almost like a lashing tail. His expression was shadowed. Kagome smiled down at him.

“Did I hit a nerve? Interesting…” Tapping a finger to her chin, she roved her eyes over his kneeling form. “Take off your clothes.”

Sulkily, Hirokin complied, shrugging out of the layers of watery silk that concealed him. There wasn’t much use trying to pretend she wasn’t ogling him. No need for it, either. 

Though he wasn’t densely muscled like Sesshoumaru, Hirokin’s lithe body was sculpted just as immaculately. Flashy too, with those pretty bits of scale decorating his pearlescent flesh. His body was jeweled almost as much as his hair, woven through with glittering strands of silver bead and diamond-crystal. Reaching out, Kagome combed her fingers through the white-gold, gossamer silkiness of it. It was like trailing her fingertips in a moonlit stream.

“You’ve grown out your hair,” she said, skimming to where the fine ends flowed past the backs of his shoulders.

At the admiration in her tone, Hirokin’s lips lost some of their pout. “Yes, what do you think?”

That he looked gorgeous went without saying. Didn’t it ever? Wrapping her fingers in the spill of his hair like reins, Kagome gave his head a yank.

“What do you think I think.”

Hirokin smirked. His naked cock was hard, she was pleased to see. Heavy and slightly curved, it hung suspended between his folded legs. The flared crest of it just skirted the tatami floor. His cock was as sleek and beautiful as the rest of him. It was the finest one she’d ever seen, after Sesshoumaru’s. Though Kagome couldn’t quite put her finger on it, there was something vaguely snaky about Hirokin’s. But then maybe she was just projecting, knowing how well he could make it twist and undulate inside her.

Her legs cracked open at this thought. A drop of spermy wetness trickled palely down the inside of her thigh. Keeping his hands to himself, Hirokin dipped his head and caught the drop against his tongue. His youki shivered, faintly writhing. Chasing the shining trail upward, he fit his mouth to her dripping slit and groaned.

His tongue flickered in and out of her, gleaning her of Sesshoumaru’s sticky spend. Another fetish to add to the list, Kagome thought snidely, as she slid her knee up onto his shoulder, opening herself to him further. Tangling her fingers in his silky hair, she bore down on him, hard.

“You’re a glutton for his cum, aren’t you, Hirokin? Make sure you get it all then, you greedy slut,” she panted as she fucked his face, biting her lip at the broad sweeping plunge of his tongue. “Every. Last. Trace.”

When he had, when he’d retreated from the hole he’d been coring out in her and sucked her clit into his hot fanged mouth instead, Kagome gasped, halting him with a jerk. The leg supporting her was violently shaking. Her breasts heaved, mottled and sheening and pearled at the tips that had drawn so piercingly tight at the precipice. 

“Okay,” she snapped out, half-rabid with lust, “go get the cocks.”

Breaking from her, Hirokin peered up at her from between her thighs, the lower half of his face glistening with her juices. “I thought perhaps we’d take the edge off first.”

She glanced down at the blood-gorged, throbbing cock he’d been clutching. Precum was already stringing from his shining slit to the floor. 

“You haven’t come yet today?”

“I haven’t had the time.”

“My leg’s about to give out.”

“Ah,” he said, as if her human limitations were a passing nuisance to him, now remembered. 

As his tongue flicked out across his glossy lips and chin, Kagome said, “Lie back.”

Hirokin lay back on the floor. Knees to his shoulders, Kagome mounted his face. Spreading her outer lips apart, she fed her pulsing clit into the dark balmy heat of his mouth. She squeezed her eyes shut when his lips closed around it. If she hadn’t been bracing herself, she would’ve come at the first ribbonlike stroke of his tongue. 

Watching him fist himself, she started to ride him, started to command him. “That’s right, Hirokin, you suck it good. Suck me off like Sesshoumaru’ll never let you, and maybe you’ll get to spill your slimy seed in my presence.”

His youki simmered darkly, intoxicatingly. Mesmerized by the deft way he worked his cock, Kagome ground her hips into him, rolling harsh and slow, trying to draw out the pleasure that was imminently overtaking her.

“Use your nails,” she rasped. “I want to see you bleed for me.”

His aura was a riot already. But as the points of his nails scored finely along his shaft, Kagome could sense him on the bleeding edge of boiling over—even before a glaze of red coated him in his frenzied circuit. Bucking, she cried out when he swore venomously into her. The searing jets of his release shot clear across the smooth planes of his torso, streaking her belly and breasts.

Dazed and blurred, Kagome swirled a fingertip in the hot cum that laced her. Bringing her fingertip to her mouth, she tasted the salt and musk of him, so different from that of her husband. Delicate, somehow. She had the urge to sample him at the source. Bending over his spent form, she caught the head of his half-hard, bloodied cock in her mouth. When he hissed at her—actually hissed—she lanced her reiki-edged nails into his thigh.

“Shut the fuck up,” she growled around him. “I’ll do with you what I like.”

Sullenly, he submitted while she fondled him with her lips and tongue. Bobbing her mouth over him, she ringed the abused head of his cock. The metallic tinge of his blood had a quality she couldn’t place. When she pried into his raw little slit, he stirred. Kagome released him then. Easing down the length of his body, she pushed her tongue into his pliant mouth. At the taste of himself which she fed back to him, he arched and moaned.

“You’re such a shameless narcissist,” she said, nipping at his full lower lip. “I’ll bet you always taste yourself, after. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a creature more steeped in self-love than you.”

“Next time, my lady, I shall gift you a mirror.”

Kagome huffed, pinching and pulling at one of the jewels that studded the scalloped edge of his ear. “Very funny. You’re in a cheeky mood today. You must be feeling particularly proud of yourself.”

“Yes,” he said, as he reached up and pulled her down to him, and let her taste like an offering the lingering tang of herself on his tongue.

Kagome gave herself over to it, as he flipped her under him and continued to kiss and pet her. The rush of him over her skin, the crisp taste of him on her lips reminded her of a cold mountain spring. Periodically, he brought his groin to hers, rubbing his soft wet cock against her soft wet sex until the friction of it stirred them both back to attention. 

“Now?” he asked, licking her clean of the seed and blood that still smeared her.

“At your leisure, my lord.”

She’d said this mockingly, of course. But he frowned briefly and inscrutably at it all the same.

From the platform he returned with the conjoined pair of cocks. They hung limp in his hold, but when Kagome took the double-ended demonic dildo into her hands, the cocks rared to seething life again. Whether it was her feminine arousal, her miko aura, or some combination of the two, she wasn’t certain. Like a heavy weapon, she held the twinned lengths out before her, eyeing them and the smooth golden collar that fused them together at the base. There was a certain morbid beauty to this sorcery, she had to admit.

“Which one do you like best, my lady?”

“Which one do you like best?” she returned.

Hirokin pointed out the lighter and longer one. Kagome took this to mean that he really preferred the darker and thicker one, and was banking on her to give it to him out of spite.

“All right,” she said, “you can have it then. I’ll take the other.”

The rueful quirk of his lips told her she’d guessed right.

Out of the kindness of her heart, she let him suck the dark ribbed one to get it ready for her. It was very thick, and very mean. Clearly averse to being encroached upon by a male. Raptly, she watched the way Hirokin’s jaw detached to take it deeper despite its surly stoutness, watched the way the ridges of it bulged and corkscrewed faintly in the column of his throat.

Unable to take it any more, she commanded hoarsely, “That’s enough. Give it to me.” 

Seated at the edge of the platform, she spread her legs as he unsheathed the raging, ridged cock from his throat. She angled up her hips, showing him just where to put it. She could feel the slight, anticipatory gape of her own slit, the way it drooled for the thick demon cock that was being guided to it. 

Still, its blunt head was a chore to swallow. Kagome dug her nails into the ledge. She used her reiki to dampen the burn of entry, both physical and spiritual, while Hirokin studied the stretching mouth of her frail human sex with scholarly fascination.

“It amazes me what you can take without tearing,” he remarked, as he worked the head into her at last.

Swallowing the mammoth shaft that followed was a near thing. Her channel screamed in protest, pushed to the brink by a girth that was nearly twice as much as Sesshoumaru’s. Kagome had to halt Hirokin several times so she could acclimate. Her whole body felt stuffed, let alone her cunt. The aggressive heat of the buried cock’s youki permeated through her, surging and receding at the reiki that checked it. It was darkly excited inside her, she could tell. Along her straining walls, it bulged at intervals. Registering where to push to arouse her most, it remained swollen and pulsing both there and at the flexed limit of her sex.

“I’ve never felt so stretched-out,” she whispered, staring down at just how thickly impaled she was.

Hirokin nodded, studying her still. Even with the brutish bulk of the cock trapped inside her, he was still rocking it faintly in and out. He watched how her entrance quivered at the motion. No doubt he was reading the sensations ebbing through her reiki as well.

“Quit playing around,” she said huskily, blushing brightly all down her taut front. “You’re going to make me come.”

His eyes flicked to her, faceted and darkly radiant as chipped sapphire. “I want you to come. I want to see it.” Her rear entrance was so slick with the seep of his saliva and her wetness that his slender finger glided right in. Through the thin barrier of her flesh, he pressed against the pulsating ridges that were fast undoing her. “I want to feel it.”

Kagome whimpered. She couldn’t help it. The assault on her G-spot from all directions was too much. The meaty rocking in her insides, the blunt ram at her cervix…

“Damn it!” she cried, her head going back and spine bowing out at the force of the orgasm crashing through her.

So much for taking off the edge, she thought sourly as she came back down.

The demon cock in her was beside itself. Within the cage of her being it smoked and banged like a corralled bull, wanting to charge full steam at her but powerless on its own to do so. Maybe it was a bull’s cock, she considered—but only briefly. Mulling over its origins would only depress her.

She looked down the sweat-shimmered arc of her body. With her knees bent and splayed and such a girthy object protruding from the mouth of her womb, her attitude was perversely like a birth pose. Through the dark fringe of her curls, she saw that the golden band now lay nestled under her red peaking clit. Whether magically or otherwise, she’d arrived at the midpoint of the doubled cocks.

On the other end, Hirokin was already working away at the long pale one. Kagome watched him as he glided his hands and tongue along the shivering length. Its translucent, gel-like sheath of a foreskin scrunched back from him, as if in natural aversion to his attentions. Eventually, however, the sheer pleasure of being stroked and squeezed overwhelmed its instinctive dislike of him. Or maybe Kagome’s presence was goading enough. As she grazed her reiki against the dark heat of it, it formed into a vaguely harpoon-shaped beam of simmering marble.

“Help me with these chains,” she said, picking at them.

Hirokin rose from his crouch and helped her fit the loops of golden chain around her thighs and hips. When the harness was in place, it snapped snug against her with a glimmer. There was a thrum of live magic running through the chains to the band. Against her resting clit it warmed and hummed, and Kagome moistened anew at how titillating it felt. 

Hirokin knelt back down between her thighs. When he took the pale cock protruding from her into his mouth, her eyes flared wide.

“I—I can feel it!”

Against the tip he was teasing, Hirokin smiled slyly. Kagome shivered. Through the bands and chains that joined them, she could feel through the cock lodged within her an echo of the pleasure the other one was experiencing. It was as if the cock jutting from between her legs was truly her own.

“No more teasing now, Hirokin,” she breathed. Gazing down at him mistily, she stood and shoved the hooked head into his mouth. “Take it deep.”

He gazed back at her as she forced it into him. Through the enchantment, she basked in the pleasure of his hot envenomed mouth, savored the flex of his tightly straining throat. She felt the heady grip of him all down the length of the cock’s rigid shaft. Felt the almost blinding-white bliss when he choked against the hooked head that was shredding him raw in its unfettered aggression. Between the pleasure radiating through the welded shafts and the buzz of the gold band against her stiffening nub, Kagome was perilously close to coming again. 

“Okay,” she panted, feeling weak in the knees as she ripped the cock out of him. “On your stomach.”

Spitting blood, Hirokin turned over and lay flat. All but collapsing on top of him, Kagome sat resting for a minute with her thighs clamped around his hips. Lazily, she bumped the pale, slippery cock along the ridge of his spine, moving lower and lower as she regained her composure. 

Spreading his smooth cheeks apart, she eyed the crinkled entrance that remained sealed shut to her. She pressed a glowing finger to it, prying at him. Against the sharp hiss of his breath she wedged the tip in, smoking. When she removed it, he thrashed.

“Kagome—”

“Shut up and be still.”

He was tensed and wary. Not of her, exactly, but rather of the wicked cock she was sporting. Kagome didn’t doubt now that these were two particularly pernicious specimens he’d selected. On purpose, naturally.

“You bring it on yourself, you pain whore,” she said ruthlessly, as she slid back and aligned herself with him.

When she speared that fiendishly sharp tip into his ass, he tried to scald her on reflex. Kagome gave him a sizzling smack to the flank in response.

“None of that. You’re going to lie there and take it, no matter how hard you fight. So you might as well give the fuck up.”

She gave him another simmering inch which he swallowed with a pained groan. Her eyes rolled back at the fiery squeeze of him, though the cock itself was darkly furious. This one was a wall-shredder for sure. Though she’d have been able to blunt its edge, Hirokin either couldn’t or wouldn’t. As she delved deeper into him, the going went slicker and easier, lubricated by the glaze of his blood.

Beneath her he was sweating, shaking, hemorrhaging mist in waves across the floor. She knew he had an inhumanly high tolerance for pain, but this was insane. Touching her fingertips to the bit of exposed shaft remaining, she sent her reiki coursing downward to cushion the cock’s cutting edge. 

“No,” Hirokin groaned. “Don’t.”

“You really want it like this?” Kagome demanded. “Really?”

“Yes, my lady—please.”

“Please, huh?” Recalling her reiki to her, she leaned over him, thrusting down into him and rotating in a savage arc. “Is that all you have to say to me? How about, ‘Thank you, Kagome-sama. Thank you for fucking me bloody.’”

“…Thank you, Kagome-sama.”

“For what?”

Hirokin’s hips left the floor at the sharpness of her thrusts. “…For fucking me bloody.”

A welter of blood teemed around the shaft goring into him. Trickled down his cleft to thread along his taint and bulging sac. Somehow the grisliness of it cinched her lower stomach that much tighter, as the force of her thrusts reverberated blissfully through her.

And now he was rearing back on her, lifting her as he grated against the demonic cock raping his insides. Kagome could feel the churning in his aura taking on that familiar, portentous edge. At the torment to his precious inner gland, he was coming apart. Coming apart to the same dark revelry she could feel inside herself.

“You’re my bitch now,” she said, snatching up a fistful of his fine, pretty hair.

“Yes,” he choked out.

“Say it,” she growled, fucking him harder, deeper.

“I’m your bitch, Kagome-sama.”

She jerked forward in him. He bucked back just as wildly. In a frenzy they were coming, the four of them—she and Hirokin and the two severed cocks. 

Whatever she cried out when she came, Kagome couldn’t remember. There was a blank space in her mind. One dark gap among many where her spotty memory had failed her. But at the dim edges of it, she knew she’d said something. 

Something he’d heard. Something he’d remember.

Something she couldn’t take back.

When she rolled off him, when he turned on his side to face her, she could see that he had. She let her head loll away from him.

“Stop looking at me like that.”

“Like what, my lady?”

“Like I’ve hurt you.”

“You haven’t.”

“Then stop frowning at me.”

“I’m not.”

Kagome’s head lolled back to him. She studied his face, so serene and surreally beautiful. So strangely feminine, for all that he was male. Even after being brutally plowed at both ends, he still looked annoyingly perfect. The sweat-slicked strands falling into his face shimmered, seeming somehow artful in their wanton disarray.

Against her stomach, the flaccid pale cock sagged and slid slowly aside. Within her, the other one was just as limp. 

She wanted to tell Hirokin that he’d gifted her a mirror after all. But she couldn’t bring herself to say it.

“I feel so empty,” she said with a sigh.

“Later, if you like, we can try the other ends.”

“That’s not what I meant.” Frowning, she pushed herself up onto her elbow, meeting him eye-to-eye. “Kiss me.”

He leaned in, brushed his lips to hers so chastely it made her laugh at the absurdity of it all. Here he was, reamed-out bloody as a stuck pig, and here she was sporting the demonic equivalent of a strap-on.

Her fifteen-year-old self would have put an arrow through them both on the spot.

Lying back, she asked him, “What are we doing?”

“What does it matter?”

“It doesn’t,” she said, shaking her head. “Nothing does. It’s all just total fucking chaos, with little points of relief sprinkled in every now and again. Just to keep stringing us along for gods know what reason. Just to keep us from descending into absolute despair.”

“Yes,” he said, and though she couldn’t see where he was looking, she knew he must be gazing up through the skylight at the cosmos like herself.

Her hand found his and held it. She felt the cool, tumbled-stone texture of his skin, the steeliness of his fine bones and the flinty sharpness of his nails. She felt the rings he wore and the gems set in them, and the magic set in them, too. She felt that he was with her, and that he wasn’t. And that whether he was or wasn’t, all the rest was void.

Maybe he felt this too. Maybe he felt like she did.

His shadow fell over her, then his hands, his mouth. She grasped him back, kissed him back. The pale cock squished between them. He pushed past the dark one as he entered her, smooth and hard and heavenly to her. The chains slithered from her hips. She thought he’d like to leave the cock in her, let it harden so he could get pleasure from rubbing against it. But he pulled it out of her, shoved the doubled cocks aside like they were now just in the way. 

Kagome didn’t miss them. Alone, he stroked her, filled her. Her walls hugged around him as tight as her clamping thighs. And when at last he spilled out in her, she didn’t feel so empty anymore.

“I love you,” she heard herself her crying out to him again, and this time to her horror, she remembered it.

---

Inuyasha © Rumiko Takahashi

This is the final part of the ‘toy chest trilogy’ 🙂 My birthday’s coming up (I’m turning 29 again, yay!), so it feels like an early b-day present to have this fic written at last! <3

Series Navigation

<< Seasons of Life, Part 10 – WinterSeasons of Life, Part 11 – Winter, Continued >>