(X) Tried to make her great-uncle come first.

Youmu would not be had. The Konpaku name was weighed in the balance, and the youngest of it would ill humble her master by foundering in the presence of their noble mistress.

“—mightn’t be Konpaku-original,” maundered on her great-uncle, “yet, I warrant you, my lady Yuyuko, on my pride, decades of contemplation have fathomed deeper into its nuances than—”

He’d underscored how deeply his insights went by poking Youmu’s womb. Itchy, oozing their combined arousal, Youmu steeled herself as her great-uncle hauled her leaky kitty inchmeal off his rigid manhood. And then, just as she’d felt his glans begin to spread out her labia—

“—but for our Youmu, who has transcended and severed the Karmic Win—nguhh.”

—then, Youmu thrust back with her butt: enfolding master Youki’s whole erection in one stroke, her tightened walls scrubbing it harshly from the bare tip to the throbbing hilt. A vicious twinge shuddered up his length to squirt more warm pre-ejaculate straight into Youmu’s baby-room. Striking while the iron was hot, she gingerly mashed her denuded rear into her great-uncle’s lap – cuddling his weakened and overstimulated penis inside her vagina. His breath erupted all over her nape this time.

Yes. Youmu’s kitty may as good be her great-uncle’s plaything, yet she, too, had learned bit by bit of his own, infrequent faults. The old half-phantom might earn three points for every one of Youmu’s merely through his impervious stamina, but she’d sat on, swallowed and withstood enough bullying from his manhood to recognise where it fell, as it were, short. And that was in fending off sudden counterblows. The same manoeuvre that’d let Youmu to crack her shinai on his forehead was the key to making her great-uncle spew his white surrender up her precocious womb. Lady Yuyuko, Youmu rather fancied, must’ve been privy to this as well – except she had way more hip to slam into master Youki’s crotch.

“… Youki, dear?” cued their ghost mistress now. “Is something the matter?”

On the edge of her focus, Youmu read the amused tinge in her voice – as if she’d welcomed and pitied the interruption all at once. Master Youki, ever strategizing and seldom wrong-footed, coughed over the disturbance, smartly fettering Youmu’s hips to head off further ripostes. Inside her, his manhood flexed and throbbed still – corroborating plenty to Youmu that she’d done a decent number on her great-uncle’s staying power… as well, also, that a half-hour of teasing his grand-niece’s tight, submissive kitty had been too much to stand, even for him. His penis did stand on, however, and no mistake – its head flirting with Youmu’s deepest parts and its meaty trunk – girdled lovingly by her pubescent labia.

He cleared his throat with ostentation. “A—A bit of a hack, my lady Yuyuko,” was his emergency dodge. “Nothing lethal yet, let me warrant. Growing old is no picnic, I’ll tell you.”

“Ye-es,” drawled lady Yuyuko. “Only, my dear Youki… you claimed for the Heaven God Sword to furnish you with a source of concern – and yet, for the last, oh, five minutes, you have been warning me against the Hell God’s instead. Could they both hold tantamount perils? Hmm?”

Youmu sensed her great-uncle’s grip slacken as the mistake dawned. Within that heartbeat opening, she stole a glance at lady Yuyuko, whom she found in a complacent study of the old half-phantom’s face. So insured, Youmu pushed forward with her modest hips – until fully two-thirds of master Youki’s strained length had been deprived of her intimate embrace. His callused fingers clutched the band of her skirt, readying to drag his unruly grand-niece back in and onto himself again. Youmu resisted, digging her toes in, waiting her master to answer to their mistress—

“… Certainly, yes, ma’am,” he managed to at last, “from a practitioner’s standpoint, the two may differ but in the name before such a time when the rites are perfor—rrghh.”

—at which verbal mark, Youmu once more drove her butt hard into his waist. Her pursed, narrowly fitting vagina ate up her great-uncle’s manhood in an instant: engulfing it from tip to root in its cramped, slippery goodness and torturing the head with another smooch from her unprotected baby-room. Master Youki’s lap quaked below her, his penis stiffening rock-hard inside her belly. He hadn’t come, though. He hadn’t but, Youmu much suspected, only since he’d girded his loins beforehand. She’d simply presented too obvious a tell – even if her pouncing kitty had stripped his manhood of its final defences. Youmu could feel it: rearing to shoot her great-uncle’s seed into her pregnable womb. She could sense it dribbling over her insides in apish impatience. It beggared belief lady Yuyuko hadn’t yet scented the sordid aromas of incestuous sex wafting from under her younger retainer’s dress.

Then again, it could be lady Yuyuko’s nose was maladjusted to things that weren’t, by definition, food.

“More than a bit of a hack, is it, Youki?”

Youmu had to suppress a triumphant smile when their mistress’s query passed without response. This’d happened before, it struck her. Yes, it had. Not in these same, precise circumstances but near enough to shake down Youmu’s memory. It’d been the dead of winter in the dead-realm then, and Youmu had crawled and fallen asleep under the kotatsu table she and her great-uncle towed out of the storeroom for cold seasons. She would come to a time later to sounds of hushed conversation… and two pairs of legs crammed together with her inside her favourite nap-space. The first of these had been master Youki’s: hairy and spread-eagled as they were wont to be whenever her great-uncle laid his guard too low.

The other legs had belonged to lady Yuyuko, and they’d stretched, pale and smooth, all the way to master Youki’s end of the table… where her flawless, nude feet had been sandwiching his brazen erection.

Youmu, mired in sleep and more than a little intrigued, had therefore watched on, quiet, not daring to move while their ghost mistress had serviced the old half-phantom between her heels, soles and under her toes. And once the young Konpaku had marshalled the courage to twist her head around, she would see the noble lady Yuyuko, for lack of other entertainments, comforting her bushy privates with the aid of her fingers. Almost, and Youmu would’ve purposed to emulate her mistress; only, her great-uncle must have stumbled on some conversational hurdle, because Youmu had heard their ghost mistress gripe and seen her perfect feet retract in an air of pique. She hadn’t quite quit toying with herself – but had left the old half-phantom’s manhood quivering and destitute.

And Youmu, who’d been turned on since waking up from her less than decent dreams, would use of this chance to wiggle between her master’s outspread legs. She’d touch his fleecy inner thigh: a secret indication she’d been there… and then take his neglected, needy penis into her mouth. For unremarked minutes, Youmu had fellated her great-uncle under the table; she’d polished his shaft from base to tip with her small tongue; she’d tugged his foreskin back and sucked on the bare glans; she’d slipped her lips up and down his fluttering length until pre-come-rich saliva had been trickling down her chin. And once her master, who’d throughout this held a faltering talk with their noble lady up above, had succumbed to her skills at last, Youmu would wrap her mouth around his pulsing girth – and gulp down spurt after spurt of her great-uncle’s clingy, pent-up seed.

She’d recover from her horny daze minutes later: shallow of breath and sticky of throat… with lady Yuyuko now gone and master Youki’s wobbly hand petting her overworked head.

“My lady Yuyuko!”

The adults straightened as one at Youmu’s exclamation, who’d snapped her eyes open to see her mistress’s glide over to her from her master. The young Konpaku bounced to attention, up and down on her great-uncle’s lap… extracting first then plunging his defenceless manhood back inside her tight, drenched kitty. His tip thumped into her cervix, startling Youmu half to death, all but causing all her poise to escape in a feeble squeak.

And yet, he didn’t come. His stiff, tumid erection night on jumped under her bellybutton, yet its Samurai owner refused to give his grand-niece her win. Indignant, caution shunted aside, Youmu feigned a discomfort in her seat and repeated the motion twice in swift succession. Smack and smack – a fierce, double stroke to finish off her great-uncle’s thick, tenacious manhood.

There was a wheezed grunt. A judder of her master’s thighs. A powerful throb inside her belly.

And then, Youmu Konpaku felt the first, long, vigorous squirt of his seed gush into her baby-room.

“M—My lady Yuyuko,” she spoke over the sensation, “I beg you to pardon my scatter-brained master. What he meant to say was—”

Underneath her skirt, Youmu’s kitty squeezed down on her great-uncle’s swollen, twitching penis as though to egg it on. Surrender, once given, came on in copious spurts. Overcome by the frailty of his own manhood, the old half-phantom nevertheless held her hips firmly in place – keen to ensure, at least, that the entirety of his load would end up in his grand-niece’s young womb.

“—it was,” Youmu resumed, her lower body aquiver with excitement, “that, in three days’ time, my lady Yuyuko, I shall be put to my final tests in magick duelling, officially to become your, my lady, envoy in matters offff… of policing. Yes.”

Abashed by the slip, the younger half-phantom surveyed her ghostly mistress’s face for signs of wariness. On the opposite, however, lady Yuyuko wasn’t wary. Not in the least.

She appeared… bored, somehow.

“Oh,” she said. “… Is that everything? Youki? Yooouki?”

Youmu felt panic bubble up in her chest. Her great-uncle’s penis was far from spent: still bucking inside her, still pumping its sticky yield into her exultant kitty. Only fools and children, nonetheless, dared brush off lady Yuyuko; though master Youki endeavoured to answer the call, all the same.

“Afraid—” was his grunted attempt, “Afraid hngyes, my lady—”

“Youki!” cut in their ghostly mistress, seeming discontent. “Youki, Youki, Youki. This is unseemly! Hoisted by your own mighty petard? You cannot be serious.”

“Apologies. Apologies, my lady,” sniffed the old half-phantom…

… and then jogged his grand-niece back and forth in his lap. He winced from the sensory overload, but stealthily. And Youmu, who’d scarcely followed the exchange – or, truthfully, not at all – now had to contend with her great-uncle’s seed being rubbed and kneaded into her kitty’s folds. It was… galling. Victory might be its own sugar, but Youmu had taken strongly to the thrill of keeping her great-uncle sheathed all the way inside her when he came. There’d ever been something fantastically right – and delightfully wrong – in having her womb receive the fruits of her hipwork. Oral service was fun, it was varied – but a poor distraction beside the mysterious joy of being come inside. A drop not in her baby-room, Youmu frustrated behind her stolid expression, felt a drop wasted.

Across the table, lady Yuyuko, who’d had no way to know all this – right…? – slapped her palms on the tabletop like two porcelain gavels. “Well!” she said. “Meseems then, my dear Youki, that you shan’t be going to… get to know Yukari’s new shikigami after all. We had an agreement, no? Hadn’t we an agreement, Youki?”

Master Youki mustered his pride. “C—Certainly, my lady.”

“And have you, Youki,” drilled lady Yuyuko, “failed in delivering on your part?”

“… Ye—Yes, my lady.”

A chill, crescent slice of a smile frosted over their ghost mistress’s lips. “Then I conclude,” she announced, “that our deal is off. Good day.”

Coolly as she’d arrived, lady Yuyuko arose from the table and span away to leave her two retainers, one of whom, if one were to go by her words, had misused grossly of her attention. At the doorstep, which the mistress of the dead-realm, being a ghost, was ill like to bother opening anyway, she cast a parting glance over her shoulder at the respectfully attendant, younger of the Konpaku. Something caught in one of her lavender eyes, causing it to blink. And then, true to her means, lady Yuyuko thoroughly ignored the door – and quit the room.

Outside the purview of their mistress, though buried inside her still, Youmu’s great-uncle leaned in, exhaled and planted a kiss behind her left ear. Youmu schooled her face.

“… Gone and done it now, you rascal girl,” was his groaned rebuke. “You haven’t the first what I had ridin’ on this.”

“No,” agreed Youmu, shaking her silver locks left and right despite the retribution promised by his tone. “No, master, I haven’t.”

And she didn’t. Youmu Konpaku hadn’t “the first” of many things. The goings-on of Hakugyokurou fell outside the scope of her understanding, as did most all of lady Yuyuko’s politic whimsies, and that was fine. The Konpaku weren’t advisors; they were a sword… or, well, a spade and a paring knife also when it came down to brass tacks… but a sword above all else. Swords needn’t comprehend; they needed edge, purpose and pride in their wielder. And these, Youmu Konpaku carried in her soul.

Among swords, however… Yes. Among swords, competition had a place. And this was the reason Youmu Konpaku smiled a catlike smile. She couldn’t guess at what’d just passed between her great-uncle and their mistress, but she knew this at least:

It had been worth two points and no discussion.


✱✱✱ HERE ENDS Konpaku Youmu Helps (Un)Make a Trade ✱✱✱