Chapter Text
Under the streets of Tokyo, through secret corridors of concrete and hallways of metal, a single woman walked. Lit by harsh yellow lamps on the ceiling, her purple bob cut and fringe sucked in the artificial light, framing her red eyes. Her lips, plump and soft, were touched with a thin layer of lipstick, the same hue as her hair. Her expression was confident, but underneath the mask of ease there could be seen hints of the hard monster below.
Oboro, the Demon Ninja, was dressed for a pleasing evening. Her body, fit and slim, showed off her wide hips and palm-filling breasts. Her red evening dress plunged beyond mere décolletage, the V-shape of the cloth coming down past her navel, reaching its apex right above her pubic mound. The red silk wrapped around the top of her hips to reach the single square piece hiding her backside, leaving her long, lissome legs free to catch the attention of unwary eyes. Her high heels clacked rhythmically on the dingy concrete floor.
Far from despising the dirty underground, Oboro positively relished the environment. It had all been her design, though the impetus for the complex had come from her lord. The Chaos Arena, the gladiatorial deathmatch pit, had been Black's idea. The people of Japan needed the bloodsport, he reasoned – they needed something more than lazy peace, they needed the spectacle, they needed the blood. And contra humanity's claims of moral height over demons and monsters, the Arena had gained a huge underground following once it had started activity.
All sorts of depravities had gone on in that ring. Bloodsports, snuff, debaucheries, rapes, orgies, all saved to video and sold in secret shops and the deepest parts of the internet. Oboro took pride in arranging the most-viewed events – from female gladiators being fucked senseless by ogres and orcs, to fights between warriors that ended in decapitations and gallons of blood being spilled. Humanity had a desire to see horror, and Oboro was perfectly happy to indulge them in their desires. It meant greater power and influence for Black, her demonic master, and more power for Black meant more power for Nomad, and if more power for Nomad meant more power for Oboro herself… that was a nice bonus.
Oboro passed by a pair of orcs, who gave her a wide berth even while leering at her beauty. She dismissed them out of hand. If either of them had tried anything, she would have sheared their hand off with her own, and shown them just why she was so feared as one of Black's top enforcers. She wasn't the only one, but of the small group, only the Hell Knight possessed power beyond Oboro's. Ingrid… Oboro had to admit the woman was beautiful, maybe even reaching Oboro's level, but she wouldn't give up easily. Oboro would win over Black's heart, and take her proper place by his side as his Demon Queen. Tonight was only a part of the plan.
Reaching a reinforced door, Oboro spoke a word into the little security panel and the door slid open, revealing a dim room, filled with computers and other strange equipment. It was dark except for the lights of dials and switches, and the one screen that was currently in use. The creature using it was a short little goblin of a man, his skin wrinkled and a mottled brown-gray color. His head was bald except for a ring of curly gray hair reaching from ear to ear around the back of his head. He wore thick circular glasses perched on a thin nose, with lips that jutted out as he concentrated. He wore the dress of a scientist or technician, and he watched the numbers and readouts on his screen with intensity.
Oboro watched the goblin for a moment. “Is she ready, Doctor Fazzo?” she asked as the door closed behind her. The man kept clicking away on his keyboard, scrutinizing a piece of information, before clicking on another program. Oboro lost her easy smile, and put on the face most saw – one of short temper and easy violence. Her eyes narrowed, her smile melted. She slammed her fist into the wall, surprising the goblin and sending him jumping into the air.
Fazzo looked to Oboro, his hand over his chest. “Oh! Oh, Miss Oboro. Forgive me. I had no idea you were here! I-I was just about to send you a messa-” Oboro cut him off.
“Is. She. Ready?” Oboro spoke, each word punctuated by a step forward. She towered over the doctor, even seated on the raised chair as he was.
Fazzo hemmed and hawed. “W-well, she's not unready! With a little more time I think all the modifications will be perfectly settled into her body!”
Oboro snarled. “More time?! You asked for a week, and I've given you a week, Doctor. Would you prefer it if I looked for someone more competent to fill your position?” How Fazzo would vacate it, Oboro left to his imagination.
Fazzo shivered. “N-n-n-no! No, Miss Oboro, that's not necessary at all! The subject… she should be ready now. Everything has settled into her nerves and bodily systems.”
Oboro turned from Fazzo to look at the wall behind his monitor. “Then drain the tank. I want to talk to her.”
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'How long have I been here?' the woman thought.
Her mind reeled, assaulted by sensations she couldn't register, she couldn't parse. Sensations as powerful as a tsunami smashing over her. Was it pain? It hurt. Was it pleasure? It made her orgasm. Were they different?
Every time she tried to get her bearings, she was hit by another wave. She tried to remember who she was. Asagi. She could remember her name. But then she bucked as pain engulfed her entire being. Was this life?
She remembered. A young woman's face, bright and happy. Asagi knew that face, knew that young woman. But before she could remember more pleasure broke over her, smashing her down into the depths, from which she couldn't find escape.
She wanted it to stop. She wanted it to end. She wanted to die, as long as she might have peace. But even in the waves she couldn't drown. She breathed water as painfully as air. Was this what her existence had always been? It couldn't have. If it had been, she would have disintegrated by now, melted into the limitless ocean around her as her ego died. There was a part of her, a part of her she could feel, that still fought. No matter how painful, no matter how pleasurable, that part still fought the overwhelming forces around her, to keep her sanity intact.
If she kept that, she could keep fighting forever, and beneath her fear Asagi knew that. Even as she floundered, her body wracked, she could hold on to that core inside of her.
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The first thing Oboro saw was the green-tinted light, spilling from the cylindrical tank. As the metal shields dropped, she saw the state of her hated foe. But what she smiled at, what she took pleasure (so deep it was in her womb) in, was how Asagi was trussed up. Not in the leather, the blindfold, the nose-hook, the straps that brought her knees to her chest and her feet to her ass. Those were merely tools.
It was the tentacles she was smiling at. The beginning of Asagi's degradation was in them. And they had done their work perfectly.
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Asagi erupted from her inner world of turmoil with a painful orgasm, her muscles clamping on something huge and squirming inside of her pussy, spurting some hot, thin liquid into her body.
She was awake. She felt tendrils pushing into her nipples, violating her breasts with their every movement, and she groaned heavily, feeling a thick and leathery appendage filling her throat. She was awake. The tentacles slowly pulled out of her, and she kept cumming with every jolt they gave her. She could feel everything. She felt the straps digging into her skin, she could feel the very air, hot and heavy with moisture, rubbing against her aching, engorged clit. It felt huge.
Unable to speak, unable to move, unable to think straight, Asagi was lowered to the ground, and her blindfold ripped off. Above her loomed Oboro, and at the sight of her smirk a thousand memories resurfaced in Asagi's mind.
“Oh ho ho!” Oboro laughed, “look at you, Asagi! Did you have a good nap?” Asagi, her eyes half-lidded, only groaned. With her limbs unbound, her legs splayed out to the side, her back propped against the curved wall of the container she'd been kept in. The dripping of liquid onto her thigh made her pussy spasm with each drop.
“What...” Asagi choked out, “what did you do to me?” Her voice was ragged.
Oboro laughed. “Oh Asagi, can't you tell already?” She leaned down to Asagi's face, and trailed a finger down Asagi's cheek. Asagi felt lightning bolt through her body, and sticky juices splattered onto the floor below her, soaking her ass. Oboro grabbed Asagi's chin and forced her to meet her gaze. “Your body's been changed.” The glee in her voice was unmistakable. “Every nerve, every sensation… they've been enhanced. You feel pleasure a hundred times more powerfully than before. And pain?” Oboro reached down and pinched Asagi's nipple, fat and pink, between her nails, jamming the sharp points into Asagi's skin.
Asagi screamed, but the pain wasn't painful. It was beautiful. She could feel the tears pooling at the corners of her eyes. Her clitoris, still feeling huge and swollen, felt like it was on fire. Oboro howled.
“Pain! You don't feel pain anymore, Asagi!” She brought her face right next to Asagi's, her breath washing over her captive's face, her eyes full of malice. “It's all pleasure. Everything I do to you, you'll only feel pleasure in it.” Oboro raised herself to her full height. “I'm going to break your mind, Asagi. By the time I'm done with you, you won't be dead. But you'll be my pet. You'll beg me to hurt you, beg me to let you cum, beg me to abuse you like you deserve!”
Oboro smirked. Her foot went out, between Asagi's legs. “That wasn't the only change though, my little whore…” Asagi followed the line of Oboro's leg, and looked down. Oboro laughed. Asagi screamed.
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Asagi woke up from the nightmare. She took a moment to regain her surroundings. She wasn't in the Chaos Arena anymore. She wasn't Oboro's prisoner anymore. She was back home. She was in her bed, big and luxurious, her head almost swallowed by the soft pillow below it. She didn't like pillows that soft, preferring harder ones, but this one had been a gift from Kyousuke, and Asagi had been loathe to reject it.
Asagi heard the birds chirping outside her window, and moved just a fraction. She froze as her body was assailed by the pleasure of the silk covers sliding over her skin. Gritting her teeth, Asagi reasserted her control over her body. What Oboro had done to her, deep underground in that abomination she'd created, was irreversible. Asagi's body would be forever tainted by the modifications made to her nerves. But with her ninja training, and considerable concentration, Asagi could tamp it down, disassociate her mind from her body, and in other ways handle daily life, even with what had been done to her.
But even with her powerful willpower, Asagi's mind was still plagued by memories of the Chaos Arena. How long had she been trapped down there, a plaything to be used by Oboro, thrown to crowds of degenerate men, foul orcs, and more? How long had Kyousuke had to watch her fellate cock after cock and scream as she'd cum? Asagi closed her eyes. She didn't want to remember those trials. But they were there, free-floating atoms of humiliation and degradation that, no matter how hard Asagi tried to ignore them, would boil in the back of her mind. Snippets of memories, sense impressions unmoored from any narrative, filtering into her conscious mind without prompting.
It had been a month. A month she had been kept down there. And that morning marked a month since she had gotten her revenge on Oboro.
Asagi opened her eyes again. Thin rectangles of light shot from her window, seeping past her blinds to sit on the cream-colored carpet and up her bed. Turning her gaze from the tent in her beige sheets, she looked to her side table. Shining gently on the dark wood were two simple gold rings. And as her eyes fell on them her heart ached the way it did every time she saw them. They sat on the bedstand like fallen meteors from a strange world, signs of life from something alien to Asagi now.
Asagi had defeated Oboro, in the end. Through all the horrors and pain she'd been put through, seeing her sister violated, she hadn't broken. And when she'd gotten her chance, to attack the horrible lump of magical flesh that had sustained Oboro's second life, she'd taken it. But Kyousuke had died too.
Kyousuke. Her fiance. In killing Oboro, Asagi had killed Kyousuke too. Her hands had plunged her sword into Oboro's chest, and as she had died, her takeover of Kyousuke's body had failed, killing him too. Asagi had gotten her revenge, and with Oboro's death the Chaos Arena had fallen apart as the Anti-Demon Ninja had moved in to rescue Asagi and Sakura. It had seemed like a belated success, except that Lord Black had escaped the Arena. He was still in hiding, as far as anyone at the ADN knew.
That was how things had worked out. The only thing Asagi could do was kill, and even then she hadn't been able to kill the bastard in charge of Oboro.
Kyousuke. They'd met when Asagi had still been a full-time Anti-Demon Ninja operative. He, however, had been perfectly ordinary. For Asagi, who had spent her life in the shadows, dealing almost entirely with other ADN agents, people like Kyousuke had mostly been victims and perpetrators – victims when demons went on their rampages, and villains when they joined gangs and organizations. But Kyousuke was neither. As a journalist, he gave her a glimpse of a life that Asagi hadn't known, and the glimpse had been enough to sow seeds of doubt in her mind that being a Ninja for the rest of her life was what she wanted to do.
Even after Asagi had told him what her life was, he'd seen past the tabloid understanding most people had of the ninja and seen her as a person. On Asagi's 27th birthday, under a full moon, he'd proposed to her. Asagi had accepted without hesitation, and knew from that moment that her time as a ninja was numbered.
And then Oboro had gotten her hold into him, and captured Asagi. She could see Kyousuke's face in front of her, bloody and dying, as he whispered his last words to her.
Asagi clenched her fists. No. She wasn't going to blame herself over it again. Not until she'd taken her shower.
Flinging off her sheets, Asagi got to her feet. Getting some clothes from her closet, she threw them onto the sinktop in the bathroom attached to her bedroom. Peeling out of her bra and panties, Asagi had to groan as her panties, crusty and filled with juices, stuck to her crotch. Dropping them to the tiles and sighing as she noticed they were torn, Asagi took a breath, preparing to enter the shower. For all her willpower, for all her training and abilities, there was still something that she had trouble controlling, a change in her body that Oboro had done to humiliate and horrify Asagi.
Stepping into the glass-walled shower stall, Asagi turned on the spray, making sure she had her back turned to the shower head. The warm water rushed over and down her body, washing away the stiffness in her muscles the nightmare had left. Rivulets of water ran between her large, firm breasts, each one large enough to fill a hand. Topping them off were soft, pink areolae the size of quarters, with her nipples softly standing out of them. Droplets were pulled down her arms, strong and toned, and her flat abs. Her ass, well-defined and tight, funneled the water between her cheeks. Her body was that of a trained Ninja – a near-perfect female form with few flaws. Even the welts and marks left on her skin by Oboro's whip had begun to fade quickly enough.
Asagi took a breath, and turned around, letting the water hit her crotch in front. She grit her teeth, and even knowing what was to come she was still surprised. As the water struck her body, Asagi came, messily. “Nnnnggggkkkk!” Asagi strangled a scream in her throat as her mind was shocked by the strength of this orgasm. Thick ropes of chunky, off-yellow cum erupted from her crotch, to splash against the tiled wall. The sour smell mixed with the humid air in the shower, and filled Asagi's nostrils. The smell, joining the aftershock of her orgasm, made Asagi's tongue loll out of her mouth, as she felt so good. It took her a few moments to recollect herself. As much as she tried, the other change that Oboro had made to Asagi was much more difficult to deal with than just the change in sensations.
Asagi looked down at what Oboro had added to Asagi's body – a huge, functional, orc cock, along with a pair of heavy balls to go with them. Erupting from above her pussy, the green, wart-covered meat pole had stubbornly resisted any attempt by Asagi to control it the way she did the rest of her body. Fully erect it was almost a foot long, but what was worse was its girth – it was thick enough that Asagi had a hard time getting her fingers around it when she had to grab it. It twitched at her anger, standing tall and radiating a masculine sense around it, a terrible contrast with Asagi's feminine form.
At the most importune times Asagi would feel it grow hard, and without warning she would be met with a huge sticky mess of cum on the floor, or filling her panties and dripping down her leg. Even without an erection, she could feel her baseball-sized balls radiating heat like a furnace against her pussy and thighs, and knew that real orc-cum was somehow being produced inside of them. It was awful.
Oboro hadn't told Asagi why the cock had been put onto her, but she could guess. Futanari were rare, but they did exist. Most of the time due to genetic quirks, but other times because of demonic influence. Futanari were particularly over-represented in the ranks of demonic organizations, a fact Asagi was all-too aware of. She'd done her fair share of putting them behind bars.
But before she could find a way to get this cock off of herself, Asagi needed to at least try and deal with it, distasteful as it was. Cringing from the smell, Asagi's fingers gingerly pulled at the leathery, fat foreskin covering the purple cockhead. Doing so revealed the buildup of smegma under the skin, around the head. Asagi hated the stuff, hated the look of it, hated the smell of it, hated the taste of it, everything about it. She'd had enough unwashed orc dicks shoved into her mouth, her tongue used to clean them off.
The pressure of the water began to wash off the smegma, the yellow clumps and stray pubic hairs falling off her tip to wash into the drain, along with the semen dripping down the wall. The drain was filled with the mess from Asagi's dick, smegma and semen mixing together into a pudding-thick mass, at risk of filling the drain. Asagi felt the warts under her palms, and another small spurt of sperm burped out of her pisshole. Letting go of her cock, convincing herself it was clean enough, Asagi made sure to mush the stuff down through the grate with her toes, hating how it felt against her skin.
Asagi got her shampoo and soap and lathered herself up, the soap giving a sheen to her body in the yellow light. Her hands roamed up and down her body, soapy suds growing on her smooth skin before she let the spray wash it all down.
Stepping out of the shower, Asagi sighed in relief as her cock began to soften and go flaccid. As she wrapped a towel around her torso, she sighed as she could feel that half of the cock and her balls swung underneath the thick cloth. 'Ignore it,' Asagi told herself, 'if you ignore it, it won't be such a problem.'
But try as she might, Asagi couldn't just totally ignore it. She hated it. She hated it because Oboro had changed her like this, had made her into some freak. And she hated it because every time she looked at it, she was reminded of the countless orc cocks that had smothered her face, pounded her ass and pussy, and the gallons of filthy, foul cum they'd dumped into her mouth, her holes, her face and body. She hated it because of how it made her feel. How ever since she'd escaped the Chaos Arena, Asagi had been forced to hide herself from her sister (who could, thankfully, barely remember the exact details of what had happened down there), and everyone she knew. How it made Asagi terrified of being found out, of someone seeing it and thinking her some kind of perverted freak.
Drying off her hair, looking at herself in the mirror, Asagi took a deep breath. She looked the same, if she looked at her face. The same stoic expression, the same sharp nose, the same green eyes. On the surface, her roiling thoughts and emotions couldn't be seen. She had stayed strong during her ordeal with Oboro, she could stay strong now. And part of that, she told herself, was thinking about how to solve her problems.
Well, Asagi wasn't going to let Oboro get the last laugh. She was going to get it removed, somehow. But that was the major question, wasn't it? At first Asagi had hoped that maybe it would go away on its own, but that had clearly failed. Every day she woke up with morning wood, and every day it seemed like her cock and balls were just as much a part of her body as the rest of it. The little goblin scientist, whose name Asagi had never gotten, he must have been involved in the modifications. Would he have some way of removing the cock, and maybe even reversing the effects of the nerve heightening? The little bastard hadn't been caught by the ADN in their sweep of the Chaos Arena.
He had to be somewhere, Asagi thought. Either on the run or hidden in some demon-infested locale. She wouldn't be able to find him just running through the underground of Tokyo, she would need help. Orcs, prostitutes, gang members – they might all have leads on Nomad, Edwin Black's organization. As much as Asagi wanted to see how the official investigation of Nomad was going, she was loathe to ask the official ADN heads for help. She had wanted to leave the ADN life. To be thrust back into it like this… it was disappointing and painful in equal measure.
But whatever she did, she needed to find the guy sometime soon. She was running out of panties. It felt like every time she tried to squeeze her cock into a pair of her old panties, the dick would just tear through the material, ruining them completely. Asagi had tried strapping it to her thigh, but that had felt terribly uncomfortable. So far she'd decided on just sticking with skirts and other open-legged bottoms. Those at least wouldn't show off her bulge to anyone who happened to send an eye her way, though they had a tendency to tent.
Dropping her towel, Asagi didn't even look at her tight training leotard, hanging in her closet. She stepped through her quiet, empty home, and tried not to think about how different it would be if Kyousuke were still alive. She felt, sadly, free without anything around her cock. It swung up and down, left and right, slapping against her thighs with the steps she took. She did her best to ignore the weight of it, how it was pulled down by gravity, but it was hard for her. As much as it almost hurt, if she was going to train she needed to stop it from flopping around.
Heading to the dojo, Asagi figured some old-fashioned training might help put her mind at ease. Grabbing a length of sarashi, Asagi wrapped her cock against her thigh – not too tight, but enough to keep it from swinging around like a club.
Pulling out a wooden training dummy, she began basic strikes and blocks. The dojo began to ring with the *thock* of her palms and forearms on the wooden limbs jutting out at different angles. Slowly at first, she then began to pick up speed. The movements, drilled into her muscles from years of practice, began to flow closer together. At first Asagi could just fall into the motions, ignoring the world around her, and even herself, concentrating just on the attacks and blocks. But although her cock was stationary, her balls weren't.
The faster she went, the more she felt her testicles swing between her legs, and the more she did so, she could feel her cock grow harder under the sarashi. She ignored it, and continued speeding up. The thocking sound of her hands on the dummy grew louder and faster, and her breathing grew harder. Asagi didn't notice her nipples stiffening, or the dripping of precum from her cockhead turning the sarashi dark. Her balls rubbed against her clitoris, sending sparks through Asagi's body that she had to clamp down on.
She couldn't stop her balls though. As if to prove that her appendages couldn't get in her way, Asagi went faster and faster. She could feel the churning in her scrotum. How much orc-cum was in them? It felt like she was already replacing what she'd blasted out in the shower. What had felt comfortable was now feeling like it was over-full with yellow semen. Was this how orcs lived? 'No wonder they rape women,' Asagi idly thought, 'they need to constantly empty their balls.'
Her breathing intense, Asagi let out a massive shout with her last strike. She stood there a moment, breathing through her mouth, trying to stop the shaking in her body. It hadn't worked. As much as she tried, she couldn't get her head out of the problems presented her by this cock. It was everywhere, it was making all her life a problem.
“Rrraaagh!” Asagi yelled out, pushing over the dummy with a clatter as one of the arms on it broke. Asagi kicked it down the dojo floor, not caring what it hit.
Leaving the dojo, Asagi threw herself onto a couch in the living room, thankful that all the blinds were drawn. In the soft, dim room, she untied the sarashi. The bandages were soaked in precum, and Asagi knew they'd need to be washed or they'd be stiffer than boards soon enough. Exposing her purple cocktip first, Asagi unraveled more and more. She was halfway through when she felt the pressure in her balls boil over. Without meaning too, she came again. Even as she threw her hands over the tip, a flood of hot, thick cum spilled out of her hole.
Asagi let out a whimpering groan with her head thrown back as she ejaculated, her toes curling as her hands were covered in the sticky mess. After a few moments, it was over, and as she brought her eyes back to her crotch, she felt a little drab of drool slide down her chin from her lips. “Fuck!” she yelled out, seeing the semen drip down around her fingers to fall onto the couch below. Each plop stained the cream-colored cushion below her leg, and Asagi knew it would take some work to clean it fully.
Swinging her leg over the hardwood floor instead, Asagi got to her feet and awkwardly shuffled to the nearest bathroom, trying her best to not leave too much of a cum trail behind her. Asagi tried to move her hands as little as possible, the cum almost tingling her skin. It was as if she could feel the little swimmers in the semen, desperately looking for the egg they were meant to fertilize, digging into her skin. Asagi sighed in relief as she got to a sink and washed it all off her hands, as well as her legs. Untying the last of the sarashi, she threw the bandages in the trash. They weren't worth saving.
Grabbing a mop, Asagi did her best to clean the floor of the living room, the bucket of water and soap she was using soon becoming filled with sticky ropes of cum floating in the liquid. The couch was harder, and even after spraying it with half a bottle of stain remover the spot the cum had left behind on the fabric was easily visible. Asagi turned the cushion over and put it back on the couch, swearing to herself she'd clean it properly soon enough.
Asagi was particularly glad that Sakura wasn't here to see this. Being already almost 10 in the morning, Sakura had already left for the Academy, and by now had already begun her school day.
Asagi had been horrified to see her sister subjected to much of the same monstrosities that she had endured in the Chaos Arena. Her sister had been violated by mobs of men, foul orcs, and Oboro's cruelty. But though her sister's memory of what she had gone through was hazy, and what she didn't remember sometimes came in her nightmares, the ordeal hadn't broken Sakura's spirit. The first moment she was ready, she wanted to go back to the Ninja Academy and finish her training.
“You can trust me, sis!” Those had been Sakura's response to Asagi, who had asked her if that was the best plan. Sakura had been, and still was, so confident. “I won't let myself, or you, be put into that situation ever again! I'm going to defeat every monster who looks at us with a lewd eye!”
Asagi shook her head at the memory. Sakura would have to kill a lot of monsters then. She had no idea how many of her rapes had been taped by Oboro, but Asagi knew that not a small number had. And those videos, under a thousand pseudonyms by now, were traveling through the internet, shared among connoisseurs of foul sexual acts. Not even the ADN could stop the distribution.
Wrapping her torso in another fluffy towel, Asagi grabbed a drink from the fridge and tried to think of what to do with her life. She was in a limbo state, stuck between old and new, unable to move backwards or forwards, and she hated it. The dick was only part of the problem, though it loomed large over her day-to-day thinking.
Grabbing her purse, she rifled through it to get a pad of paper and a pen. Asagi didn't always like putting her thoughts to paper, but she did recognize it helped sometimes. She started putting possibilities down, along with their pros and cons.
She could go back to being an ADN field agent. She knew what to do there, she'd spent almost her entire life so far training to work in that environment. She'd faced life and death situations there. Even when Kyousuke had convinced her to leave it, she hadn't left because she hated it. She did good, and with usually pretty instant results, especially after cutting down some rape-beast before it took another victim.
But the Chaos Arena had been a close-run thing. Asagi had almost given up a few times. What if she met another enemy like Oboro? Would she survive it? And the cock was only a symptom of another problem – Asagi couldn't trust her body anymore. She had to constantly fight its urge to give in to pleasure. And with her body as it was, she would be forced to work alone, lest anyone see what she was packing.
She could teach at the Academy. There she could keep an eye on Sakura more easily every day. She'd already taught there a few times, mostly special seminars. And in a skirt she could hide her deformity. But if she were asked to demonstrate some technique, she'd be out of luck. And if she were honest with herself, Asagi didn't really like teaching for teaching's sake.
Finally, she could completely retire from the ADN force, and stay at home. Asagi had more than enough investments and savings to live comfortably for herself and for Sakura to do so as well. Indoors, she could stay away from situations where she could be found out. And it was what she had been planning to do anyway.
But that had been with Kyousuke in the picture.
Throwing the empty juice cup into the trash, Asagi knew she had to get out of the house. She couldn't stay stuck here forever, not if she wanted to get rid of her cock somehow.
Heading back to her closet, Asagi grabbed her clothes for the day, as her mind went over her options. She needed to go to Kyousuke's grave today, that was certain. Taking out the sharp black dress she'd worn the last time she went, she threw on a simple white bra before sliding into the dress and putting a thin, unbuttoned black jacket on top. She wasn't going to restrain her cock or try to shove it into some panties this time. She just hoped it wouldn't blow up in her face.
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The cemetery was situated on the slope of a hill, the markers all crowded next to each other, each one holding different memories for different people. Asagi stepped lightly on the stone path, aiming for the marker she cared about.
The black stone was polished and still-bright, Kyousuke's name emblazoned on it. Asagi could see her reflection in it.
His funeral had been almost too much for her. Dressed in her mourning clothes, with a black wide-brim hat to hold her mourning veil, from the outside she had looked to be a pillar of strength for everyone else there. But between the crying from Kyousuke's family, Sakura's sniffling, and her own desire to just let everything out in a torrent of tears, the fact that her cock had gotten hard had been infuriating to Asagi. Strapped to her thigh by a belt, her orc-dick had strained against the leather, rubbing against her pantyhose-clad thigh and growing hard for no reason Asagi could fathom.
Kyousuke's mother had sobbed as she read a little poem that Kyousuke had written as a child. Asagi couldn't bear it, and before the incense was lit, she walked away. She had shrugged off Sakura's hand on her arm, and had practically run from the funeral. But while the other mourners had thought it had been to cry, it had been instead so that Asagi could cum into a public toilet rather than stain her dress.
The memory of that little shame made Asagi start to cry. She bent down and put a little stick of incense in front of the stone. “I won't give up, Kyousuke,” Asagi said to the grave. “I won't give up because you wouldn't want me to give up.” Her fingers trailed down the incised characters, feeling the rough contrast to the polished surface. “I'll keep living, I'll keep fighting. I won't let Oboro beat me with this!” Her chest heaved with her words. Hot tears ran down her cheeks, dripping off her jaw onto her chest.
Getting to her feet, Asagi blew her nose on a tissue, wiping at her cheeks with her hands. She smelled something rank and gagged. Confused, she brought her hand to her nose experimentally and sniffed at it. Her hand was permeated still by the awful stench of her cum, even though it had been hours ago she'd washed them. “Blech,” Asagi noised, waving her hand in the air away from her. She let her hand drop and sighed. She bowed to Kyousuke's grave, and left the cemetery.
As she walked through the streets near the cemetery, quiet and suburban, Asagi wondered what to do with the rest of her day. Getting to the local train station, she decided to just get on the next train and see where she ended up.
The first train was a local, and Asagi was pleased to see that there weren't that many people in the car along with her. Taking a seat, she put her purse on her lap and tried to empty her mind. But she kept noticing that some of the men were throwing glances at her. The back of her neck shivered. Why were they looking at her? Did they know who she was? She didn't recognize any of them from the Chaos Arena, but what did that mean? Had they been part of the mobs that had raped her multiple times?
Asagi tried to calm herself. She was being irrational. She was dressed in mourning clothes, of course people were going to look at her. It didn't have to be related to the Arena. She was out and about in the middle of a workday, dressed to go to a cemetery. She smiled. She was just being silly.
As time went on, the people in the car changed, coming in and out. Not that many still, scattered around the car here and there, of various ages. For a little bit of time, Asagi was even able to put her cock out of mind, as it lay dormant between her legs.
In the early afternoon, the car was surprised when an orc got on board. While not strictly illegal, most orcs kept their interactions with human society to a minimum, an arrangement that served most humans just fine. This one was almost 7 feet tall, and dressed in a ratty, sweat-stained suit. His facial features were deeply carved, and his head was topped by a mohawk of brown hair. He took hold of one of the bars, and everyone shifted away from him as they could.
For a little bit, this seemed workable. But near the orc, in the corner of the car, was an office lady, not too much younger than Asagi herself. This woman had a generous bust, and the orc clearly had caught sight of her, as he stared at her breasts. He stepped closer to her, cutting her off from the rest of the passengers. “Hey babe,” he muttered, “you're looking pretty good today. Want to get off this train and hit a hotel?”
The woman shook her head. “N-no, I'd rather not,” she meekly replied, trying to get as far away from the orc as she could.
He didn't take no for an answer. He reached down and started groping at her tits. “Kyaa!” she cried out.
Asagi sprung into action. In the blink of an eye she was out of her seat, her ninja training giving her muscles explosive power and reflexes. Tackling the orc, Asagi slammed his head against the metal wall of the train car, near the door between cars. The rest of the passengers were shocked. Asagi flung off her little jacket and raised her fists. She'd fought orcs before, and knew that a single hit like that wouldn't be enough to put one down.
And sure enough, the orc roared in anger. “Fucking bitch!” He held his head as he got to his feet. The office lady was curled up on her seat, trying to hide herself. Asagi didn't give the orc time to re-orient himself completely, throwing her fist into his face. Her knuckles slammed into his mouth, and cracked against his thick tusks.
The orc grabbed Asagi's arm before she could pull it back, and with a gasp he raised her up and slammed her down onto the floor of the train on her back. The other passengers screamed and gasped in horror. “Ogghk!” Asagi coughed, rolling out of the way of the orc's foot slamming where her head had been a second before.
Asagi scrambled to her feet and stared at the orc. Reaching down she tore at the hem of her dress at her legs, giving her more room to move. Asagi swung her leg forward, the top of her foot striking against the side of the orc's knee. The orc howled in pain and fell to his knee.
Raising her foot over her head, Asagi brought the heel down onto the orc's face, a spray of blood erupting from his shattered nose, blinding him so that Asagi could bring her knee against his temple, knocking him out. Asagi stood over the unconscious orc, breathing heavily. She looked up and saw the woman the orc had groped staring at Asagi.
No, not staring at Asagi. Staring at Asagi's crotch. Looking down, Asagi saw her cock erect and pushing out of her dress. Her heart stopped. The woman's face was a mix of reactions. She was confused, grateful, intrigued, and more. But in Asagi's mind, all she could see on the woman's face was disgust.
As soon as the train slid to a stop, Asagi ran out of the car, grabbing her purse and fleeing as quickly as she could. She blew past the police waiting on the platform, called to deal with the orc, and fled out of the station. She tried to keep her cock hidden, but felt the eyes of random passerbyers on her. Dipping into an alleyway a few blocks from the station, Asagi hid behind some dumpsters and tried to catch her breath.
Flipping up her dress, Asagi was shocked at how hard her cock felt. It was harder than she'd ever felt it before. She tentatively reached out to touch it, and when she felt her fingers on the spongy flesh of the head, she let out a strangled squeal. “Nnnggghheeee!” she let out, cumming powerfully. She sprayed the alley wall with her cum, the sour smell overpowering that even of the garbage around her. Asagi leaned her forehead against the wall, watching the yellow splatter drip down the concrete wall.
'I guess I'm not going without panties again,' she told herself. But with most of her panties ruined or torn by the thing now slowly growing weaker between her legs, she needed lingerie particularly for futanari. It was distasteful and she hated the thought of stepping into one of those seedy places, but she needed them now.
Finding where she was, on the west end of Tokyo's wards, Asagi knew there was a futanari shop not far away. Trudging her way through back streets of commercial districts, Asagi tried to come up with excuses she could give for being inside the place. She opened her purse and put on a pair of massive sunglasses, a gift given to her by Sakura that she'd never really had need of before.
Soon enough Asagi was standing in front of an unmarked store front, the only entrance on a side road, surrounded by old, decaying buildings. Asagi opened the door, and was immediately hit with the smell of old cum, mixed with lube and cheap perfumes. The store was lit by pink bulbs, throwing all the room into a weird half-lit state. Lewd, disgusting toys, sexual aids, dolls, dildos, strap-ons, and more leered at Asagi as she closed the door behind her, as if they were aware she was looking at them.
“Good afternoon, dear!” came a voice from the back, unctuous and feminine. Asagi looked, and saw a woman with a head of voluminous pink hair, framing a face that had seen better days, with dark rings under her eyes. “Oh my!” the woman said as Asagi came into view, and Asagi could feel the woman's gaze creep up and down her body. “Aren't you just…” she licked her lips theatrically, “delicious! How can I assist you?”
Asagi didn't shiver. “I'm looking for lingerie,” she replied.
The owner held a hand up to her mouth. “Oh really?” With her other hand under the counter, Asagi could almost hear her feeling herself up as she looked at Asagi. But she brought it up, and Asagi could see faint shiny patches on her fingers. “Let me show you what we've got!”
The proprietess took Asagi to the far wall, and showed her the selection of underwear. It was a dizzying array of choices for Asagi. “Well, depending on what your personal needs are, we've got plenty for everyone – keyholes, latex, lace, ball-holders…”
Asagi lost track of the woman's voice. She was too bewildered by the stuff in front of her. It was too much to take in, too much to sift through. She didn't want to be here, and she didn't want to spend more time than she absolutely had to. “It's fine, it's fine,” she said, as she grabbed at bottoms from the racks willy-nilly, uncaring exactly what they were or what their exact designs were.
Asagi, hoping the armful she had was enough, ran back to the counter. But the owner smirked, and grabbed a few things behind Asagi and brought them up too. She put down an onahole on the counter, along with lube for it, and smiled at Asagi. Asagi felt her face burn with shame.
“If you're feeling frisky, the onahole can take the edge off. I should know.” She glanced down at Asagi's crotch. “And cumming when you want to can help you not cum in public.” Asagi was about to object when the owner leaned over the counter. “I could smell your cum on you,” she said, letting each word hang in the air between the two.
Asagi, humiliated and without any other options, threw down enough cash for everything, and stuffed them all into a paper bag. “Come back soon, babe!” the owner yelled at Asagi as she fled as quickly as she could.
To get back home, Asagi avoided the station she'd ran from, and instead walked to the next nearest. Soon enough, she ended up back in her neighborhood, and felt a wash of relief as she walked by the familiar doors and houses. Getting inside her home, she grew nervous when she heard voices inside. Sakura was here with someone.
Asagi closed the door as quietly as she could, but Sakura heard her anyway. “Welcome back, Nee-chan!” erupted from the kitchen, and Asagi held her bag slightly behind her as Sakura bounded out of the other room. Behind her was Yatsu Murasaki, Sakura's best friend and a fine ninja in her own right. Murasaki smiled and waved at Asagi, and Asagi waved back.
“Hey, Sakura,” Asagi let out. Sakura saw Asagi's dress, and opened her mouth, but Asagi pre-empted her. “Orc on the train back from Kyousuke's grave. Had to knock him out when he got touchy-feely.” Sakura closed her mouth and nodded solemnly.
“What's in the bag, though?” Sakura asked, bending around to try and peek into it before Asagi clutched it tightly closed on her chest.
“Nothing important,” Asagi squeaked.
Sakura pouted. “Aww, come on! You can let me see!” She tried to grab at the bag, but Asagi kept it out of her reach. Asagi wasn't too worried about Sakura grabbing it if she didn't want it to happen, but to her rising horror she felt her dick harden. She couldn't stay in this room.
Murasaki held out a letter for Asagi and, taking the opportunity, Asagi rushed to grab it before fleeing upstairs. “I'll be taking a nap, let me know what you want to do about dinner later!” she yelled behind herself.
Slamming her door closed behind her she let out a heavy grunt, and came inside her dress, the cum slipping through the fabric and falling to the floor. Asagi threw her bag onto her bed, and was so frustrated she could almost cry. Had she ejaculated at the smell of her sister and her sister's best friend?! What was this thing doing to her? Where would it end?
Ripping open the letter, Asagi was surprised to see it was an official letter from the head of the ADN, Takakura Akira. An old, respected ninja, he was asking Asagi to officially come back to the agency and rejoin field ops. He knew it would be hard for her, he wrote, but it was necessary. Asagi read the last paragraph and nearly ripped the paper in half.
Edwin Black, head of Nomad, had been seen in Tokyo the night before.