https://twitter.com/DiisukeHan/status/1594705312027934722

He might actually be working on it.

>>41235
Gotta postpone it until Touhou 19 releases

>>41256
broooo what? that's actually huge.
only time will tell if he can keep up the motivation to work on it tho

[x] In the end, he made her wait.

Put some courtliness into it. Is it so much to ask?

[x] He gave into his—but mostly her—urges.
Don't spurn a fellow awoo; this is for the sake of peace among wolves.

[x] In the end, he made her wait.

awoo

He had the gods of the sea, no doubt, to thank for this.

At the foot of the Youkai Mountain, where wise men daren’t go, there was a big lake. It was called the Misty Lake with infallible accuracy, for an impermeable fog swirled milkily ever and always over the waters. Currently, however, it was locked in a dishonourable duel for its name with the summer sun, which, having singed the clouds off the sky previously, now turned its glare on the terrestrial lookalike. From afar, the Lake appeared as though steaming.

On its shade-less shore, in a tiny bay, somebody who hadn’t known better had built upon a time a no bigger pier. It was short, rickety, so close the water’s surface the flimsiest breeze could cause your boots to slosh for the rest of the afternoon and, on the whole, given a wide berth by fishers of sensible persuasion. The man occupying it today, simmered by the summer rays, knew, however, a secret.

You could take off your boots and leave them on the bank.

But for this stroke of genius he would’ve been mighty discomfited to sit where and how he was: on the pier’s far end, trouser-less legs over the edge, lazily milling the water. His name was Mondo, and he was a fisher. Or he could’ve been a fisher, perhaps of even some success, had his life turned differently and the land of his birth contained reservoirs with less self-possessed inhabitants.

A specimen of which was, at this very moment, half-clambered over the pier and Mondo’s naked lap. Her name, in turn, was Wakasagihime and, quite despite it, she was in obvious evidence a mermaid. This was tenable by the lower half of her body idly finning the murk: scaly and iridescent, in the heights of piscine fashion, from aforementioned fins up to where an amazing, toned behind could, Mondo was rather positive about this, otherwise have been found.

Of her upper half, he had a poorer view – due mostly to Wakasagihime’s flowing, seaweed-green kimono cloaking its back, while her lush frontage was squished, less than abashedly, against his own. Her pale, princess-slim arms hugged his tanned waist with surprising – or perhaps not – strength.

Wakasagihime murmured something loosely i

(Image cropped from https://danbooru.donmai.us/posts/1929642)
(I'm not sure how well this one fits the theme, but I wanted to contribute something and this was the best I had.)

The sunset never failed to stir Futo’s brash heart. The brilliant oranges and deep reds felt much like the heat and passion of fire. There was comfort there, in the warden that sheltered her, in warmth and ash, from the terrible image of Buddhist icons.

Sadly, she’d brought no oil nor torches on her trip out of the human village. No tools to conjure that glowing guardian again. It was perhaps just as well, for the the evening had done nothing to calm the sweltering heat of the day. But still it left her a bit on edge, given that she followed a Buddhist stooge into the wilds. Admittedly, one with lovely shoulders and an alluring butt to which her blue and white dress clung. Even the gold-and-brown tabard-the kesa-did little to hide any of it. The angry pink cloud accompanying that Buddhist, she could do without.

In absence of her incendiary tools, Futo’s eyes kept wandering to the sunset, as if she could conjure its flame for comfort. Or usher the day to a sooner close, so that she could bathe in something other than her own sweat. The stooge-Ichirin, she ought to call her-had personally invited her for a drink. Alone. Why? Why with her? They had fought alongside one another, certainly. In fact, the nature of their alliance had made it all… oddly intimate. She had allowed Ichirin to possess her, and taken control of Ichirin in turn. But they had fought against one another far more often, even after that whole ‘perfect possession’ incident!

“Thanks for your company, Unzan. I’ll see you back at the temple.”

Futo blinked. She looked up. Ichirin waved the angry cloud away. The cloud rumbled in response but, after trading some whispers she couldn’t quite process, the he billowed out and drifted off. Ichirin glanced only briefly to Futo, but didn’t even bother explaining, before she turned and resumed her march. Now, Futo’s mind rac

I think Kaiou/Fukutsuu Okosu may be either dead or just gone from art. His website is gone and his twitter and pixiv have been inactive since the start of 2020. What a shame.

This story, like all your others, gets the fap seal of approval from me. Many buckets were filled.

Captcha: HeRMiT5

You have a very unique style, and a talent for writing exceptionally engaging smut.

Mokou's story with that school aide milked buckets of cum from me, and this one has been no different. Thank you very much, count me among your group of avid readers.

Blessed captcha thread: WiLyOkUU54

I love reading how Sekibanki slowly succumbed to her perverted desire. And the Chimata cameo was really cute. I hope she appears in your stories more often.

This was Taiki’s. If these had sounds, his would be the sound of Miss Mokou being grasped forcefully by the chin. It sounded something like this:

“Mmwhuh? Whuh naoww?”

Taiki’s reply was to jab a thumb between her lips and gently yet staunchly haul the pervert girl upright. The slight, womanly hand bolstering his dick slacked then refastened higher up his shaft as Miss Mokou’s coolly phlegmatic face came to level with his own. Well, except the phlegm wasn’t phlegm, and it weren’t hers to begin…

It was anyway another thing strumming his pulled nerves. Miss Mokou was near as damn it as tall as he. All right, he may have had her out-spaced in other directions, but none rankled as badly as the one making it a tiptoe-less effort for her to jam her tongue into his mouth at any time of the day. And she did look a girl keen on no less even now, twirling said tongue round Taiki’s thumb like a piece of stuck hard candy.

There was no ignoring the RSVP. Not completely. And so, weathering the smell, Taiki leaned in with all his preponderance to smooch the cleaner corner of Miss Mokou’s lips. The type of woman he dreamt of marrying, mentally pinned and catalogued, was jarred out by something germinating beneath when the one who wouldn’t ever marry him on her – or, sooner, his – life tipped backwards against the paper-heaped desk with an uncharacteristic squeal. The students’ brainy outpourings skidded under a hectic palm.

“… Gettin’ a little feisty?” rallied Miss Mokou. “Careful, womenfolk go head over heels for that.”

For a heartbeat, even if it was among those look-into-her-eyes-and-you’ll-skip-it kinds of heartbeats, Taiki’s machismo wobbled. Then, leasing the grit from his dick, he swivelled Miss Mokou’s chin to the side and spoke into her ear.

“… You will take off these pants, Miss Mokou.”

Wait he lives in the scarlet devil mansion?

Jealous (in a sense) Kaguya next?

>knotted donger
I'm not usually one to remark on odd things in porn, but that made me squint. Alien fish vagoo was close enough to a certain edge for me.

>everything else
Going to be real honest, I didn't feel the same kind of vibe from previous stuff as this. I found myself skimming more than reading because there were bits that felt like padding. Maybe it's partly because I don't give a toss about Futo, or the Taoists generally, but I wasn't much feeling it this time. Maybe it's me? Dunno.

Still like your prose. I wish wordplay like yours was a bit more common here.

>>41158
>I'm not usually one to remark on odd things in porn, but that made me squint. Alien fish vagoo was close enough to a certain edge for me.
The theme was depravation/self-corruption from the very beginning, so light bestiality seemed the natural end of the slope. I understand it’s not everybody’s cup of… cuppable thing, but if it is wrong then in this particular case I do not wish to be right.

>Going to be real honest, I didn't feel the same kind of vibe from previous stuff as this. I found myself skimming more than reading because there were bits that felt like padding.
Some were, admittedly. Ichirin’s scene, for example, was a recycled scene from an earlier WIP of this work that I threw back in because why not. I am, however, of the idea that selective reading is natural and expected of written pornography, since your, ahem, interest in the contents of the text will inevitably be more selective than an absolute, 100% match for whatever the writer’s personal fancy was. It’s an unfortunate and inherent part of the genre, but perfectly understandable.

For instance, I got a hefty kick out of writing Futo having her reliquary licked, but somebody who’s not personally into the idea will have little to no reason to read on once they’ve figured out what the paragraph entails. If titillation is the main goal, which it is here, there is simply no universal zone to strike. The D likes what it likes; what it doesn’t, there’s no point powering through.

At least such is my experience with written pornography, and why I endeavour to keep distinct paragraphs more or less “thematic” within themselves.

Alternatively, I’m making excuses and just didn’t put enough effort into some parts, counting instead on the fetish by itself to carry you through. The guess is anyone’s.

Did it died?

>>41144
>NTRfiends DECAMP
>write m:netorare with only the conceit of a dumb oni averting the premise
does me a thunk

>>41145
You read it; you don't get to criticise me!

>>41146
Sure.

You guys are forgetting to vote for the intention.

[X] Tell Youmu to use her hand on him, just once.
([x] Getting him totally relaxed, to attack then and exploit him.)

Putting his fate in her hands in a sense.

[x] Tell Youmu to show him her bloomers.
[x] Getting on his good side, for help.

[x] Tell Youmu to use her hand on him, just once.
[x] Getting him totally relaxed, to attack then and exploit him.

/ / / /

The rooms had plumbing. That was more than could’ve been said of most of New Hell’s denizens, let alone their homes. It had put Suiki, as it were, in context.

Hecatia strolled out of the shower, nude, crownless, lazily towelling her hair – red again. The choker and chained orbs were gone; had been gone, in fact, no sooner than the doors’ shutting out the party noises below. Out of her clothes and bereft of her devices, Hecatia Lapislazuli was as much a goddess as she had always been – but also, in a hefty, recent addition, a woman. On the raised, western bed, lying naked on its thrice-changed sheets, Suiki felt atingle in areas which, he would have sworn, had been pressed and juiced dry across the previous hours. Tingly in particular was the part the blue-haired Hecatia had clenched her teeth on while squirting on Suiki’s face. That part still reported for duty, sick leave notwithstanding.

There was a phrase, “an apple never falls far from the tree,” and it was Saṃsāra’s own truth, except for Hecatia, for she was someway three trees rooted in the same, unliterary space. They were all Hecatia, which Suiki had learned the hard, wet, intimate way – but Hecatia with slightly differing tastes and experiences. The blue one had a filthy mouth which nonetheless loved being plugged; meanwhile the blond one had acted the unutterable prude all the while roughly milking his dick in the cowgirl position. The red Hecatia, whom Suiki had seen flitting in whenever their lips had been engaged (then, often, married), was the touchy-feely type: all misty-eyed and “kiss me while you fuck me.” The moment-to-moment manoeuvring between the Three had been an exercise.

Where plenty was no plague, two were still company. Three had been a crowd.

And yet… the chief of the Kishin felt easy. Not the ease of a concluded hunt; nor even the pretty break of his straitlaced, bossy Yama reminding him with an oh-so-tragically crooked brow that she was a person with quirks, same as he. Watching Hecatia, a woman adjudged inaccessible by most, himself included, perusing the

That was a very nice read Reavie.

Liked how ya did the character Suiki a lot and it gave me a bit more insight on how hell is like. even if that's not really the main intent of reading smut I had fun reading it in my own way.

I looked up the Kisin in question and yeah they did appear in Wild and Horned Hermit.
May I ask why you chose said person as the viewpoint of this story?

Other than that, thanks for the time taken to write and share this.

>>41113
>May I ask why you chose said person as the viewpoint of this story?
Threefold!
1) Needed a male PoV. As I’ve absolutely no grasp of Hecatia’s character, narrating from inside her head would have been excruciating. A blank-ish slate was easier, compared.
2) On that note, I get off on sticking to canon, and Suiki was right there in WaHH, a male character ripe for lewding. What’s more, they both have a vested interest in Gensokyo – practically a ready-made scenario for how they met.
3) Which brings me to the point that somebody who is old-fashioned and/or stuck in their ways is the perfect foil for Hecatia’s explicit desire to modernise and adapt Hell.

I can only apologise their relationship isn’t more personal or heartfelt, but I couldn’t picture either of them committing to anything serious before breaking this particular ice. Oh, well, maybe in a sequel someday…