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states of undress
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Keiki Haniyasushin, Sculptor Goddess of Creation, was in high spirits. She swept through the smooth hi-tech passages of her new garden with a spring in her step that her aloof, regal bearing couldn't quite hide, her long azure hair bouncing girlishly as she went. Haniwa armsmen scattered at the sight of her, sketching brief bows and curtsies before skittering back into the shadows. Their goddess was a strange woman; fey and unpredictable, her mind seemingly unable to settle on any one thing for long. She treated her subjects well—very well, as those lucky enough to catch her interest could attest—, but stories of the woman's temper hung around her like a cloud. No matter how polite she acted outwardly, Keiki was above else a deity of prodigious power, and only her closest underlings viewed her without a seed of unease in their hearts.

And that, Keiki thought as a pair of diminutive clay statuettes scuttled out of her way, was as it should be. The duo had been in the process of stripping away the wild, untamed vegetation of old and replacing it with new trappings more suited to her tastes. One, wobbling at the top of a stepladder and already overburdened by the vast heap of bright tapestries in its arms, stepped back a hair too quickly and overbalanced. Keiki clicked her tongue in annoyance, the thin shriek as the haniwa fell cutting into her thoughts like a knife. She turned and snapped her fingers, catching the animated effigy with a cushion of divine wind and lowering it gently to the ground.

“Careful now,” she said. “I understand that few can control themselves when faced with my divine beauty, but perhaps next time, you might," she placed a long, calloused finger on the top of the haniwa's cap and gently pushed it down, "avert your eyes? It would be a shame if I were forced to... rebuild you.”

The little statue bowed nervously and hurriedly collected the pile of metallic sheets it had dropped. Behind it, its companion fiddled nervously with its own burden: colorful neon lights in appropriately futuristic shades of blue and red, mattresses etched with modern-looking circuitry and towers of weird artifacts to decorate them. Several weeks ago, the
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Yes, that was it. He was like an artist’s impression of a crossbreed, depicting something imagined but never seen. Beautiful in its own way; the rich, deep hazel of his skin, the sleek lines of his horned skull, the powerful tension in his raw muscles. She imagined the way he might move; a tall, proud step, befitting a great, hulking mythical beast. Her thoughts drifted, other images flitting through her imagination. Hot, slick flesh and smooth bone against her skin, a thick tongue against her intimacies, the satisfaction of gently teaching him to appease her needs… Needs which were growing quite real. A familiar restlessness was settling upon her, an irresistible urge to act upon her endless curiosity. Keiki felt the first pangs of genuine arousal forming inside her, firing her imagination. She saw Taisho in her mind's eye, the body she would sculpt for him hunched over hers, her back arched and her derriere raised up as he rutted at her in a union of beauty and adoration. The goddess found herself drifting closer, caressing Taisho's jawbone, her fingers running along the tendons that bound it together. Thin strings of drool stretched from his languid tongue, pattering against her arm. She let out a long, low sigh, her skin tingling as she imagined herself sat in her throne, Taisho lying next to her like a faithful mascot, ready to trample and gore on whichever poor fool next dared to oppose her. The beast hung still in his restraints. She could feel his ebony eyes on her, running across the subtle curves of her slender body, trying to look past the apron and intricately decorated robes that hid her homely figure from his gaze. Keiki had seen that same look from her previous captives, and she knew she had Taisho right where she wanted him. When confusion and suspicion warred with desire and temptation, the latter always won out.

“Toutetsu isn't the only one who can grant you a body. I can do that and more.” Keiki's hand slid down Taisho's body, over his slick, throbbing musculature. His jaws clacked. She felt his thin fur over her fingers giving way to raw skin, and kept going lower, until her fingers came to rest on the lumpen bulge growing between his legs. Her hear
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Crickets and shadow smothered the village’s evening streets. Sweat beaded on her knuckles, invited in part from the warm, muggy air. But the real reason for the moisture on her skin was, well…

It was the same one that kept her fist paralyzed, just before the humble home’s door.

Kosuzu gulped. This, this was it. Too many possibilities for her to process laid on the other side.

Possibilities hotter and wetter than the air. But also… possibilities much darker than the dimming sky.

Whatever she did here, she’d need to be back in her bookstore the next morning.

Early the next morning. Not for fear of her family’s response, nor for the health of their business.

No. If she showed up too late, her stick-in-the-mud friend would know. If her friend knew, she’d suspect. If her friend suspected her, she might not be able to come back.

And worse, she may even lose everything she’d built this all on.
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The petite, silver-haired Taoshi manacled to the wall squirms, legs shaking beneath her stuck-out ass. The disciplining chamber stinks of sex. Gnashing my teeth, I drive my hips forward, closer – ever closer – to that round, pearly bottom. The Taoshi’s thighs tremble, their insides runny with slick arousal.

Nn—aaay,” she whines down the collar of her loosened outer cloak. “Nay so deeeep… hnn!

Her pleas fall on large yet deaf ears. There is no halting the punishment. I push on, each jaw-setting moment seeing more and more of my rigid shaft vanish among the creases and folds of the Tao woman’s obedient pussy. Instincts – primal, youkai instincts to terrorise and dominate – vie in my head with the senses of loyalty and duty to my Acharya saviour. The horny, female moaning lends itself to but one of these. I continue the slow insertion even so. Until the root. Until my bare, engorged glans presses up against the mouth of the Taoshi’s virgin womb.

Only then, I give in to the masculine feeling of conquest. With my penis threatening to get her with child should she but disobey, I raise a palm… and then clap it solidly on the Tao woman’s defenceless behind.

A throaty, feminine cry rattles the disciplining room’s window shutters. Another chases it out under the barred, basement doors once I spank the other hemisphere of the Taoshi’s splendid ass. They are everything but repentant.

“… Will you now apologise, Scourge?” I try, not believing it overmuch myself.

The Scourge, Toyosatomimi’s hound, Mononobe Futo, screws up enough of her faculties to smirk back at my one-eyed face over her shoulder. “… Wood Boddhist,” she mocks, despite her insides wringing wetly around me. “Thinkest thou this enow? To me with yon long, hardy cock of thine sentence? Thou shalt woeful twice… nay, thrice thy seed in me plant afore I thine of might orts acknowledge!”

“Won’t be too difficult,” I grunt in reply.
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Another one not particularly to my own tastes, but I appreciate the craft in the words nonetheless.
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Futo's archaic dialect does things to my dick that I never knew was possible. Bravo, another masterpiece of the erotic genre.

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Thread the previous: >>39853
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(X) There were magicians out there, but none in here. Someone must keep it so.
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>>40767 here. Changing my vote to

[x] Check out what scraps the hyenas had left at the market for him and the night owls.

I'd rather take the mystery option.
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(x) Check out what scraps the hyenas had left at the market for him and the night owls.
mystery box!

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Sequel to >>40675 & >>40692 (& refers to others)
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(x) Counting tomatoes with Sakuya.
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(x) Counting tomatoes with Sakuya.

re-tying things up
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[X] Counting tomatoes with Sakuya.

He might not be able to talk, but that doesn't mean he can't request for service.

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a world of girls
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I have been afflicted.

“Curse” could be the wrong word to use. After all, my new condition could be construed in a more complex way than “well, Odou, you’ve rolled a bad pair of dice, you’ve drawn the wrong hand, you’ve been put in the proverbial shit”.

It’s complicated.

“Hahh... it’s complicated,” I lament, my voice echoing throughout the room.

I became the target of a whimsical god.
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ah yeah >>40761
>I still really want to see Shinmyoumaru inserted into another girl after we creampie them.
That's a bit too up on the fetish scale for my tastes. This fantasy will have to be written by yourself or another
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[x] “Let’s head to your place now. They can wait and as you can see, I’d like to get going.”
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[X] “Let’s head to your place now. They can wait and as you can see, I’d like to get going.”

Much as a five-way orgy would be quite fun, the less girls involved, the more attention can be paid to Satori and Komachi.

After all, seems only right to make Satori's first time a mind blowing experience.

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Somewhat follows >>40675
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C’est délicieux.
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I don't know what it says about me that I found your writing, your pure ability to string words together, so enthralling that I forgot there was a porn aspect to this, but I know that it has captivated me on every instance of reading your work.
And again, just like all the others, this was excellent.
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Your love for the fat spider never ceases to give me pleasant feelings. I guess some of the dialogue stylistics have to do with the perspective character's literal muteness? I'll admit that I'm not at all fond of dirty talk for various reasons that nobody cares about, so that nagged a bit, but I suppose it 'works' in a way with that sort of setup? That said, I guess it's hard for me to connect with this kind of thing where the description geared heavily towards conveying the physical sensation of everything. Again, preferential misses at play, I suspect.

I'm not sure how I feel, in the end. It was not unenjoyable as a read despite not falling into my particular set of preferences. Strange how things like that happen sometimes. Anyway, thanks for more spider and more writing in general.

...wait a second.

>reminiscences about Remi
>Yamams contamination panic end
jolly good current events reference


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Previous Thread: >>38360

[x] Play around a little. You’ve still got some frustration to work out on your would-be ‘lover.’
[x] Blast Mystia with your orgasm beam for so long, and make her cum so hard, that Mystia reaches a level of pleasure and ecstasy she never thought possible.
 - [x] Tell Mystia that we will never use the orgasm beam on her ever again unless she never tries to rape us ever again, and does whatever we say for the rest of her life.

You can’t help the evil twitch at the edge of your lips. You give Mystia’s leash a tug and she approaches, one timid step at a time. You lean in close, feeling her excited breath wash over you again. “Close your eyes.”

Her eyes flutter closed as she puckers her lips. You wait only a second before you bring the ball to her lips and press. Her brow furrows and her stubborn lips twitch. Her eyes open, questioning, or perhaps pleading. You push and for another rebellious moment she resists. Then she allows the ball to slide behind her lips and through her teeth until it hits her throat, stretching her jaw wide open to accommodate its sheer, curving girth.

Satisfied, you step around her and pull at the straps, buckling it tight against her head.

You run your fingers across the rigid frame of her wings. She groans a quiet, muffled protest. You hum, rubbing the crescent depressions. No response. Your hand slides back up, out, and down, eliciting a shiver as you hit the base. You smile as your tone drops close to menacing. “Say, Mystia, did I ever tell you how I managed to satisfy Wriggle?”

“Hwogh…” She shivers.
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If anyone would be so kind as to drop one last vote, preferably on either confronting Shizuha or trying to restrain her, I would greatly appreciate it.
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[X] Restrain her!

Hopefully she says something really cliché like "You dare to oppose a Goddess??"
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Next Thread: >>40689

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The aloof face of the Moon slides up the night sky over the shrine’s roof. The many feminine voices of the flower-viewing party out front are no more than a muted, drunken buzz. A nature-gazing party after dusk sounded a dull idea when brought up first, but the guests have readjusted their attentions as appropriate. When you go back far enough, hops are nature too.

It is with that thought uppermost in my mind that I refocus my own attention on the natural beauty before me. Seated on the back porch of her home, Hakurei Reimu, the shrine maiden of Gensokyo, peeks up at me – pink of face but calm. I rather expected she would call our “breather” off at the first interruption, but no. Instead, she holds the bottom edge of her short, Summer vest pulled up to her chin and says,

“Just the wind. Go on, keep at it. I haven’t all night.”

I nod my assent and wrap my fingers back around my unsated erection. Reimu’s gorgeous, keen eyes lock onto my selfish motions, and she leans back to present me with an even clearer view of her nude chest. There is a certain underbite in her expression, a controlled annoyance, as I resume stroking myself to the sights and shapes of her nudity. It is an underbite I understand. A servant ought never to be serviced by their master. A shrine maiden should never leave her charges to play around. It is why, I imagine, we are both a smidge jumpy. It is why, I presume, Reimu’s cheeks are flushed pink… and her nipples stiff and cherry-red from arousal.

At the back of my preoccupied mind, the wilful little miss Reimu whom I met once years before at somebody else’s behest refuses to concede. She refuses to accept she is one and the same as the ripe, young woman now tamely baring her tits for a man behind her shrine while a besotted reception goes merrily on in her front yard – precluding her supervision. Nor am I without trace mistrust. The Reimu I am gratifying myself to is little no more. Her slim, girlish hips have widened, readying her for childbirth. Her breasts have plumped out beyond even the largest palm-size. Her tongue has taken on an e
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Damn, I don't think I've ever felt sad at the end of an /at/ update before. This was very nice.

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Content warning (tags, if you will) below the story post

______

Satori Komeiji trembled in inexplicable excitement. Today was it. The day. The momentous day, after nearly a year of sending Rin out to cajole, market, hawk her mistresses’ services to any who would hear. Even Satori herself, if asked, could not tell why she’d put so much effort into this project of hers, and would balk at looking inwards at it. In her heart of hearts, she knew the intentions were not wholly pure.

Regardless, now it was done. All she could do now was wait for her mark. She tapped her desk, bit at her nails, kicked her legs, got up and paced back and forth at regular intervals. Rin would laugh if she saw her master acting as such, for certain, but Satori could not contain herself. It was a wonder and a testament to Koishi and Rin’s skill that she had achieved it at all. Luring a young girl into the den of the most hated youkai to freely talk about their problems specifically should have been near impossible, but time and insistence were on the mind reader’s side. She knew first hand that Rin was a tremendous talent at getting what she wanted and annoying people, and there were a number of good arguments going for her, after all. She knew many people’s secrets already, and had never let a single one pass her lips without very good excuse. She’d been very well behaved in all fronts, ever since the underground was unsealed a good year ago. All in all, she’d made herself as trustworthy as she could have.

She paced again, running a hand through her messy hair and took a sip of her strong wine, calming herself as best she could. It was only the first session, and she wasn’t burdened with any over malicious thoughts. Only an edge, a blackened thorn in the corner of her mind that, unbeknownst to her, would come to grow and corrupt her mind into the one thing she didn’t want to become, the very fear that others held when they beheld her, ever since she was a flesh-eating, uncivilized stripling, running wild with her sister.

But for the time, no such thing went through her head. She was helping, yes, helping the poor girls of Gensokyo, burdened as t
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[X] Stick to the plan and do her job properly before anything else.

Work now and strangle Orin later.
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Sorry lads, finals and projects and whatnot this week and the next. I might manage one update in the meantime but I'll pick up in full again only in january.
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It's been two months since January ended. Please, anonymous writer, know that I enjoyed your story and looked forward to its continuation. I hope you have not given up on this this entirely.

And yes, I am bumping this thread solely to say that.

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Previous thread >>33941

Cosplay threads are not hot, that's what we don't want to see.
So this time, let's start with Musou Kaihou.
Hardmode
http://g.e-hentai.org/g/768449/3a71a50152/
Extramode
http://g.e-hentai.org/g/768709/49b0377bc1/

Well, no lunaticmode.
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