“Will this do for a cue?” she asked, cordially.

The Wolf Tengu’s confounded, crimson gaze batted between her top and bottom halves. Had he not grown so damn big, he could have been staring right where he’d soon be planting his puppies…

Tsukasa’s belly fluttered at the thought. Simple sex would’ve taken the edge off; was she really about to allow this brute to spill his seed inside her?

Yes, her pussy and womb were clamouring in tandem. Yes, yes, yes!

Something congealed behind the veneer of bewilderment. It hovered on Yuuzou’s tongue, hopefully. “… You’re a fox,” came the tardy accusation.

“And you are a wolf,” Tsukasa agreed, pleasantly. “Close enough, I say. Wouldn’t you? Sir?”

Taxonomical preoccupation suffused the Wolf Tengu’s expression.

Tsukasa spurred her fingers for one more minute of effort. “Want the truth? No false modesty? Well, then,” she lied. “Imagine, I really have come here to have an itch scratched. Without my, ahem, ilk catching scent of it and tattling to my Master Iizunamaru. I am Her counsel and Hers alone; dallying with others could be… construed,” she said with what could, in the circumstance, be called self-restraint. “You and I, however, are civil servants both. We know these… trifling matters can be kept mum. And, to my very evident frustration, Outrider Yuuzou—” she feigned a moue of annoyance, “—I’ve found no luck thus far with these money-minded monkeys.”

Just like that, he was at her womb again. Just like that, the thick, raw girth of his cock had rubbed all traces of afterglow out of her pussy walls, clearing the figurative decks and girding the less figurative loins for another round of rough copulation. There was no flirting with unspoken ideas or gunning for orgasms now; not three thrusts later, the Wolf had settled into a steady, inexorable rhythm of canine breeding. The rapid-fire clap-clap-clap of Tsukasa’s dainty butt on his denuded waist was as good as a singularly impatient metronome.

And the only way it’d be put off its stroke, let alone stopped, would be the coda of a womb-deep, interspecies creampie.

Tsukasa wilfully ignored the aching of her elbows, head thrown back, shallow breathing clocked to the knock of his cockhead on her cervix. There was no more playing coy; this was nature taking its course, deadening her mind and body to the incoming impregnation. The post-orgasm sensitivity served only to melt the remaining defiance out of her hectically clenching vaginal muscles. Whenever he was out, she craved him back inside; whenever he was in, she wished him deeper in still, rubbing harder on those unfaithful spots that turned a hard-boiled tube fox into a tame female. Her pussy lips polished the swells and slopes of his red, bellied cock like he no doubt polished his curved sabre, the all-natural oil of mixed precum and pussy juice dribbling from her erect clit. A rogue trickle of spillover slithering down her inner thigh startled her rear straighter up.

Clap-clap-clap-clap it gavelled on, against the Wolf’s uncompromising loins. This, slightest, shift in the latitude of insertion introduced the brunt of his breeding thrusts to entirely new areas of Tsukasa’s unsuspecting womanhood. The fox’s fuzzy head snapped upright on its own accord, ears shooting up bolt-straight, even as her mouth warped into an O of near-hyperventilation. She panted like a hound-dog after a gallop. The first slip of already tenuous self-control saw those collapse into strangled yips of helpless glee.

… Scratch that. Nowhere near strangled enough.

The Wolf Tengu laughed – swallowed air – and managed to master his v

She’d been dressed the same when Tsukasa had arrived: a sheer, blue negligee, strained from the volume of a matronly bust, atop colour-coordinated underthings which had left Her wealth of pubic hair peeking out over the groin. The sight of the latter had choked up Outrider Yuuzou, who’d escorted the tube fox even up unto her Master’s bedchambers’ door. The Great Tengu had all but ignored the gawping Wolf, disobliging him with a curt wave as she’d pulled Her wayward familiar into her boudoir. The door had shut on his questions.

There in the privacy of her sky-high apartments, her Master Iizunamaru had inspected Tsukasa from top to bottom, touching concerned fingertips to places that made and didn’t make sense. Her attention had stalled at the freshly scabbed-over teeth-marks on the back of Her tube fox’s neck. A vengeful hand had hovered over to one of the bell-pulls on the nearby wall, their pulleyed ropes criss-crossing the tower like a centralised nervous system.

… Then, the Great Tengu had changed Her mind. She’d collected a comb from Her bedstand and headed for the open balcony. Tsukasa had followed, needing not be bidden.

Though, not before furtively tugging the bell-pull her Master hadn’t.

That had been an aeon ago. Or minutes, though stretched to the point of verisimilitude.

The silence was worse than any rebuke. Tsukasa fidgeted on the stool, impatient. The wind whipped at her ears.

“… Would—” she spoke over it, if only to prove she could, “Would my Master like me to report?”

Iizunamaru’s calm, quiet reply didn’t sound bothered by the ambient noise. It rang clear here in Her queendom. “No need. All has proceeded to plan.”

You know that moment where you realize you kinda regret doing something? I kinda feel that way now, like a mental sage time of sorts. Course I aint no coward so I’ll just update and consider this a done deal after. That said, let’s a gooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo.

---

“I’ll show you real power.”

There was an inscrutable silence for a moment, then Reimu felt Seija’s hand on her lower back, and her whole body tensed, her heartbeat quickening more than it should have.

“Don’t fucking touch me,” she hissed, shutting her eyes tightly to show no weakness.

Seija ignored her. “You still don’t get it, do you?” she said casually, her other hand slipping down, sliding easily between her sore flesh and her black laced panties, and between the cleft of her ass.

Reimu bit her lip, swallowing a pained whine as Seija’s finger reached her raw, dry asshole. She tried to shift her weight away from but the youkai’s arm was in the way…

“I can do anything I want to you, whether I’m nice about it is up to you.”

Well? What are you waiting for, Lee? You better damn well reciprocate. Girl's going the extra mile for you, shoving her tongue in your earhole.

Ｔｈｅ　ｓｏｕｎｄ　ｏｆ　ｆａｌｌｉｎｇ　ｌｅａｖｅｓ．．．

🍃👂　Ｕｈｏ　🍃👂　．．．

“You make such cute sounds,” Shizuha teased. “I should do this more.”

Lee sighed. Despite his embarrassment, he was clearly content to let Shizuha nuzzle into him.

The two of them continued embracing. Though Shizuha had just satisfied Lee, her own desire had not yet been quenched. She could feel her need for his touch still smoldering in her chest and her loins.

She leaned back to look at him with what she hoped was a seductive expression. “Say, Lee… My turn?”

Lee didn’t reply, but he didn’t need to. He slipped away from her side and sidled between her legs while she slid off her long skirt, taking care to not snag the leaf-patterned hem. Shizuha propped herself up on her arms to look at his face. He gave her a small smile, gently raised her left leg by the knee, and went to work.

He trailed kisses across the pale skin of her inner thigh in just the way she had taught him. It was her turn to shiver and tense in pleasure now, with each touch of his lips and tongue causing her to curl her toes and press her legs together with Lee inside. The small spots of moisture left behind from his mouth felt wonderfully cool when his breath brushed them.

Maybe it was because of the attention she had just paid to his ear, but Shizuha felt like Lee was attending to her with extra care. She adored how thorough he was in fulfilling his duties as the priest for her and Minoriko, but the thought that it was nothing more than a duty to him gnawed at the back of her mind even now.

For better or worse, she was nothing like the sort of god Kanako was, and that meant that she could not demand worship in such an imperious manner, as though it was simply something naturally owed her.

Wake up OP

>>41337
Nah. I don't have any obligation here beyond the few images I dumped at the start of the thread.

Anyone and everyone has been free to dump their own.

We cannot cling to the old dreams anymore

>>41136
yeah its slow but alive, most recent translation is yuugi, kaguya, yumemi, nue, suwako and seija i think. that's for eratw. dunno about k but i see the git still being updated

This thread is a time capsule. Cool that it's still up and the eragames are still being worked on to this day.

https://wiki.eragames.rip/index.php/Main_Page

ta

k

>>41325

>>41324
Cirno's dress probably wouldn't make for a very good disguise, especially if you take into account the fact that sooner or later she'll come back, and probably spread the news around that some crazy guy assassinated her.
If you're looking to do things quietly, your best bet is to stick to anything that won't get better afterwards, and even then between the influence of certain youkai too powerful for you to pose a threat to, and Reimu's instincts clueing her in to the fact that something is up your days would be very shortly numbered.
My best guess as to an ideal target would probably be anything you're likely to put out of commission with a long sharp stick. A kappa/yamawaro if you can somehow catch it unawares, or maybe Rumia.
Avoid Youkai Mountain and the underground like the plague especially, given both are crawling with powerful and deadly youkai.

[X] Comfort Her

New chapter soon?

did it died?

Well done, well done, and merci. I enjoyed it--actually, there are some thing about this that make me wonder if they were points of fanservice aimed specifically my way. Funny, if so. I think you "got" Kokoro well and approached her character in a nifty way, and I also quite like how Taichi's character arc as it were has gone so far. Setting details were a nice touch too. With how this ended, I wonder whether you'll do anything more with Kokoro again.

So, did you like writing it? I know that when you were starting up the process it was like pulling teeth.

>>41287
>Funny, if so.
This was supposed to be a (somewhat) personalised prize; a gentle touch of pandering was apposite!
>I think you "got" Kokoro well and approached her character in a nifty way
Writing "youkai-like youkai" is definitely a kick, definitely in a body part... even if Kokoro never struck me as a particularly youkai-like youkai, by the series' purview. Nevertheless, I think it lent the piece that extra inch of novelty to elevate it above "just" a porn short. I think.
>how Taichi's character arc as it were has gone so far
As mother, as son with the sacred prostitution, eh? Just the clientele's shifted...
>So, did you like writing it? I know that when you were starting up the process it was like pulling teeth.
The start was an oof, for causes we discussed. No template for Kokoro in my head = mental roadblocks upon the slightest essay at constructing a scene/sequence of events. No sequence of events = no idea what the character ought to act like to facilitate it. Vicious circle. Well, but I went and did my homework, (re)READ THE FUCKING PRINT WORKS, read up on Japan's strange historical crossover of performative arts with prostitution, and something did emerge.

Thereon out, it was pretty fun. More vanilla-esque than most filthy smut I've done in recent memory, which helped things along, too. Truth be told, I had no idea Taichi had a crush on Kokoro until he, well, did. Always a funny feeling.

It was interesting as well to experience how my fiddling with illustrations fed back into the writing process. Which it did, to a surprising degree. There is potential there, perhaps.
>I wonder whether you'll do anything more with Kokoro again.
Not the pumpkin bun? Not even? Really. REALLY!

>>41288
Pumpkin bun if you want, I'm just remarking on the promise at the end here!

For me, I specifically just wanted to give you something challenging. I'm happy you wound up enjoying it.

It's always the Koishitfags...

>>41275

Least insane Touhou fan.

Here's a tip: when you make a thread, especially in /at/, give it a title. An untitled thread in /at/ looks like a certain type of unsavoury spam this board has gotten multiple times, which led me to entirely avoid this thread, until I noticed on the main page that it was still up after several days and had gotten new replies.

The season changed, and with it a festive atmosphere fell onto the village once again. The usually tranquil streets flooded with busybodies buzzing to and fro, their attention captured by the amusing games and mouthwatering smells that came their way. Powerful voices peddled their wares and attractions from their garishly decorated stands, amidst the hubbub of a colourful crowd that wore their best kimono for such a momentous occasion. This was not the first time Jin had lent his youthful strength and skills as a handyman—that is, he had hauled the heaviest pieces of lumber all over the town for days—to the elders in charge of the arrangement of these festivals, yet the quiet feeling of accomplishment he felt at the sight of his neighbours enjoying the fruits of his hard labour still hadn’t diminish in the slightest. The excitement was almost palpable in the air, so much that it felt like static over the young man’s skin, raising the hairs on his tanned, well-defined arms.

Nowhere was this more evident than at the stage erected at the central plaza, where the Prismriver Sisters had just finished their latest concert. From Merlin’s energetic horns to Lunasa’s heart-wrenching chords and Lyrica’s skillful keys; the trio’s melodies had captivated their audience for hours. Yet it had been the most recent addition to their merry band who had fascinated Jin the most. Raiko Horikawa’s percussion was, objectively speaking, not as prominent as the performance of the other members, but even someone as (self-admittedly) uninformed about musical theory as Jin could tell that it was the steady beat of her drums what turned the Prismrivers’ otherwise cacophonous sounds into the catchy tunes everyone enjoyed. The raw energy behind every pound of her batons shook the whole town, and rung deep through Jin’s ears until he could feel it inside his own chest.

The villager, however, had a suspicion that it wasn’t just Raiko’s musical skills what set his heart aflutter. The drum tsukumogami’s chosen human form was, in the words Jin had heard his boss whisper to his friend at work, an exotic stunner of a beauty. Several furtiv

The dark draped itself heavily over everything in the room, shadow on shadow obscuring the limits between objects, people, and nothingness itself. The moon had been full that evening—resplendent by any reckoning—but wind and cloud had acted as smoke, turning its luminosity into a slight pallor in the dense blacks of the night sky. Further filtered by the paper at the nearby window, the dregs of moonlight only served to add texture to the thick silk that enveloped them.

She sat up on the futon and rested part of her weight on her elbow and shoulder, keeping her face turned towards where she knew the window was. Otherwise lost in her own thoughts, she was nonetheless vaguely away of a tingle that would come and go, that would brush against and ripple across her naked flesh. It was a liminal sensation appropriate to the lack of form around her. She felt as though she had come close to death without realizing it, though that was clearly an absurd notion for her. Her heartbeat was as muted as her breathing but they were clearly there—clearly hers.

Still she felt as if she were just discovering herself; the movement of her palm and fingers in the dark felt unreal; the tingle came and went and remained unexplained. How could she figure out much in the dark? Any answers she might find could only prove themselves true in the light, if she endured. Endure what? Drunk on the dark, she felt too cowed to make a noise and affirm that she was still in her right mind.

After all, she had sought out the dark. She had left her home when the clouds began to gather, taking trails through the bamboo forest that were only known to fairies, youkai and herself. Since she knew those furtive trails as well as the back of her hand, there was no chance of her getting lost. She made good time, arriving at the outskirts of the village before too long. Lamplight came from a few homes but the streets were dark and mostly empty, allowing her to take a more direct path to her destination. In her audacity, she had even come to knock upon the front door!

Had she not heard a quote from a book long ago that women possess great mystery within themselves? That they wer

The immortal lay down, keeping her eyes up on the dark ceiling. Thin clouds must have come across the moon, she reasoned, as the light dimmed but not to the previously oppressive degree. She closed her eyes although that was something of a performative act. Sleep would not find her easily. She was aware of the presence beside her, of the warmth that radiated from the other human. She was hyper-conscious of that reality; her ability to forget that fact had been stripped away from her a few months after Keine had come to see her.

She had run into him on her way back from seeing Keine one afternoon. They exchanged a brief, austere, greeting. Nothing else happened. A few times after, the same thing happened. Once, when she had taken Kaguya to see a village festival from the margins, she spotted him in the distance. She was sure that he had seen her as well.

Over time, she became conscious that they spotted one another with more frequency. Neither was making an attempt to change their route, to force their meeting. Of that much she was sure. So why…? Perhaps it had been Keine who set things in motion: she had moved on so swiftly and so without lingering regrets that the other people in her life got caught up in her wake. Always with a simple nod, with a measured look in those clear eyes, he greeted her.

That scar, that teardrop … she thought of it whenever she spent more than a week without seeing one another. It seemed to be proof of a compact between them. Had that moment of near death deprived her of part of her life, the ability to forget? Her immortality did not seem quite so flawless anymore.

Sleep felt near enough to interrupt her recollections for the time being. A surge of activity in the mind and, later, the body postponed the inevitable a little longer. She thought of the first time that they met alone. No one had set up a meeting, they simply arrived at the same spot near the outskirts of the village at the same time. Neither had any real business there. They had just been drawn to the spot, drawn to one another. He had begun to speak but then chose to say nothing, casting instead a long glance at her that seemed to see her clearer than she saw herself.