To the new stuff

 

Cologne’s wizened old face was pressed tightly to the crack of the door, one beady eye gazing into the room. Inside, amidst the monochrome shadows of darkness, her great-grandaughter lay in bed, face against her pillow, hair scattered around her, quietly crying at the latest indignancy heaped upon her by her lawful husband.

The Reversal Gem had spawned a good plan: Ranma’s ego would accept no less than that he be almost worshipped, or at the very least respected and acknowledged. Shampoo’s sudden switch from adoration to revilement had brought said ego roaring to the surface, to the point that Ranma actively paid court to the young Amazon, trying to win back her favor at any cost. Of course, Akane Tendo had ruined that. And in the ensuing madness, Ranma had completely ignored Shampoo, as if she had never been there in the first place.

Though she was strong both of body and will, this latest humiliation was apparently more than she could bear, and Shampoo had retired to her room to let out her grief and hurt before it could be seen by others. But Cologne knew. She knew what it was like to desperately hope that the man you loved had finally come around, was willing to give up his selfish ways to settle down... and to not only have that hope utterly crushed, but in public, in front of peers, friends, family, and rivals.

The little old woman’s face was grim as she turned and quietly made her way down the hall to her own room. ‘Ranma Saotome... strong addition to my tribe or not, you have gone too far. I will revisit the humiliation you have given Shampoo upon you tenfold.’

Once safely locked in her private quarters, Cologne threw aside the mat on the floor covering the intricate spell circle she had drawn almost immediately upon her arrival in Nerima. The wizened matriarch then moved to her sleeping pallet and drew from under it an ancient tome, a book from a period before books were supposed to have come into existence, and moved back to the circle, sitting with a creak of old bones and carefully opening the volume.

‘How convenient that young Saotome is already carrying around within him the necessary volume of magic to attach the spell to. And thus the perfect vessel for revenge.’ In a language that was not Chinese, nor Japanese, nor Latin, nor anything used by mortal voice in millinea, Cologne began to read off the curse, raising power for it. Unlike flashy ki battles, there was little visible effect to this, other than a slight echoing of her voice.

Her voice was hoarse, her throat raw and dry by the time she finished, but she still had voice enough left to whisper the Mandarin words that would give the ancient curse form and function. “Ranma Saotome... from this day forth, when in female form, you shall be irresistable to men... and you shall be unable to resist them.” She paused for a bare moment, and then a cruel smile curled cracked and withered lips. “And you shall be forced to enjoy every attention they visit upon you. So be it, from this day forth.”

She felt the power leave the room, moving off to do her will, and the old woman’s shoulders slumped. Her great-grandaughter’s sorrow would be avenged... but at what cost? Ranma would surely be ruined for the tribe, likely rendered incapable of marrying Shampoo and giving her strong children.

But even stronger in her than the wisdom of a matriarch was the heartache of a young girl betrayed. ‘Happy... this one is for you, and all men like you.’

 

Ranma snorted quietly, watching the rain-dark sidewalk pass by beneath her through sodden gray bangs. Bad enough, all that crap that had happened earlier today, but to out of the blue have a rainstorm? It seriously made her wonder whether there was some higher power conspiring to punish her for something. What had she done to anyone, anyway? Nothing! Everything bad always happened to HER!

Sighing, Ranma looked up, running a hand through her hair to momentarily get it out of her face. A number of the stores had closed, their owners having used the downpour as an excuse to take an early day. She brightened somewhat as she noticed several nice, large awnings that would provide adequite shelter, with some surprise noting the figure standing beneath one of them. As always, throwing caution and better judgement to the wind, Ranma picked up her pace to a trot and hurried under the awning, shaking herself off a bit.

“Hey, Ryoga, not feel like pigging out today?” she quipped merrily, smirking at her rival.

Ryoga turned a dark scowl on the little redhead, but otherwise didn’t move. Ranma recognized that mood... it was almost more bothersome than the “I’m going to kill you!” mood, because the lost boy simply tended to sulk around and brood when he was like this... something Ranma didn’t understand at ALL. She really wished he wouldn’t upset her like that, it was completely selfish of him.

“I heard about your little adventure today, Ranma,” Ryoga growled after a few minutes of silence, his voice low and huffy. “You’ve humiliated Akane yet AGAIN by being such a skirt-chaser.”

“Hey, that ain’t it at ALL!” Ranma snapped back, folding her arms over her chest. “This was TOTALLY Shampoo’s fault, I just got caught in the middle, like always!”

“Oh really?”

Ranma blinked, taking a slight step back, her blue eyes turning cautious. She’d never heard him sound like that before... voice so deadly calm, so focused. The earthen shades of his eyes flashed like she’d never seen them before, with something unfamiliar and...

He was advancing on her, making her back up. Suddenly, for some reason, she was very conscious of the silk Chinese clothes she’d changed into after the fiasco, plastered against her skin with cold rainwater, pressing against her thighs and hips and belly and breasts. Her nipples were hard... from the cold, of course... and every breath seemed to rub them against the fabric, sending little sparks through her body that she’d learned to ignore, but were now making themselves known with a vengeance.

And suddenly Ryoga’s fingers were tangled in Ranma’s hair, and he was shoving her down, pressing her to her knees. She knew that she should be able to shove him off, break his hold, any of dozens of escape moves, but her body wouldn’t react, and she found herself looking at the black cloth covering Ryoga’s crotch.

Cologne’s curse was working its way on the lost boy, bringing desire raging to the surface, mingling it with anger and frustration, focusing all the layers of both into a single course that Ryoga would be able to follow, even with his lack of directional sense, for he had as little choice in the matter as Ranma.

“So, you like making yourself feel big by chasing girls around, huh?” Ryoga growled, his fangs bared in an almost feral smirk. “I think you’re just a slut, Ranma. And now you’re going to prove it. Right here, right now.”

“Ryoga, no,” she whispered, bringing her hands up to rest on his legs, intending to push him away but finding herself unable. “C’mon, man, don’t do this.”

“Do it!” he roared, eyes flashing. “Pull them down, Ranma, now!”

Ranma’s hands slowly moved up, her delicate fingers hooking into the waistband of her rival’s pants and slowly pulling them down. She couldn’t believe she was actually going along with him forcing her, couldn’t believe the quickening of her breath, the warmth and fluttering sensation spreading through her lower body. She pulled down his pants and boxers at the same time, and almost yelped as his hard shaft nearly hit her in the nose.

“Lick,” came the terse command, a slight tightening of the fingers in her hair reinforcing the fact of who was in charge.

Ranma closed her eyes, and began to do as ordered, her tongue sliding along the silky skin along Ryoga’s shaft. She realized she enjoyed the taste, the sensation, that something inside her was telling her she’d wanted to do this for so long. Tears of shame began to slide down her damp cheeks, and that only made it worse. Guys didn’t cry! Of course, guys also didn’t lick other guys’ cocks. Well, that she knew of.

Ryoga hissed quietly as Ranma’s licking slowly gained experience, the little redhead seeming to pick up what he wanted in no time at all. Her tongue slid in long, firm licks up the underside of his shaft, then danced lightly along the sides, the tip moving gracefully along the skin. Then she’d swirl her tongue in circles around the head, and he could feel a shudder run through her body every time she tasted a thin drop of precum. Looking down, he could see her tears, but by the expression on her face, knew that the shudders were not of disgust.

“Now suck,” he growled, voice shaking a bit with pleasure.

Without hesitation, Ranma opened her lips and let the head of Ryoga’s cock slip between them, closing them around it and suckling. She heard him moan aloud, and despite herself felt encouraged and complimented. She continued to suckle the head of his cock, swirling her tongue around it, until he yanked on her hair, stuffing more of the shaft into her waiting mouth.

With movements of her head and occassional shoves from Ryoga, Ranma worked more and more of the shaft into her mouth, slowly becoming aware of just how long he was, the thickness enough to spread her lips wide, her tongue pressed so tightly to the underside that she could feel the throbbing of his heartbeat. With one last shove, he pushed her throat open and slid in, Ranma’s throat visibly bulging slightly on the outside.

No command this time, simply action, as Ryoga’s hand began guiding Ranma’s head over his shaft, the little redhead now actively cooperating, swiveling her tongue from side-to-side as he stroked his cock in and out of her mouth. One of her hands came up to rest on his hip, the other on his waist, as he used her mouth to pleasure himself, and she willingly helped him do so.

“You like it, don’t you, Ranma?” he muttered, looking down on her rather contemptuously as she repeatedly swallowed his shaft. “I told you you were a slut. And in any form you’re a slut.”

Rather abruptly, Ryoga uttered a quiet curse and yanked his cock out of Ranma’s mouth, leaving a small bridge of saliva between her lower lip and the head of his shaft. Ranma panted, her impressive chest heaving under the clinging red silk. She finally opened her eyes and looked up at him, felt his damp shaft rub along her wet cheek, and saw his face contort as he visibly tried to control himself.

“Get up,” he snapped, releasing her hair. Ranma quickly hopped to her feet, but instead of running, simply stood before him, squirming and waiting. After a moment, Ryoga let out a long huff of breath, and ordered her to strip out of her pants and lie down on her back on the ground.

Nodding meekly, Ranma peeled off the damp black silk and dropped it to one side, revealing curvy, hairless legs and a thick patch of red curls, conveniently kept off of her labia by the shapeshifting. She lay down on her back, feet resting on the cold pavement, and without being told spread her legs wide, lifting her rear off the scratchy concrete.

Ryoga snorted disdainfully as he lay down atop his rival, easily holding himself up with one hand as the other moved down to guide his cock. “You see, Ranma? You’re practically eager to get fucked like a girl.” With that, he pulled his hand away and slapped it over Ranma’s mouth, muffling her scream as he rammed himself into her waiting pussy to the hilt. He waited until her shaking body had relaxed somewhat before removing his hand and beginning to thrust, earning little squeals with every ram of his hips.

“Don’t you?” he growled, voice shaky with the pleasure of the warmth and growing wetness surrounding his cock, clenching around it with every particularly hard thrust. He moved his hand around to sink it into the slightly loose hair around Ranma’s pigtail, yanking her head back and earning a loud yelp. “Don’t you love being fucked like a girl?! Say it!”

“I..!” Ranma gasped, her hips jolting to meet Ryoga’s in the little space that was provided, that tenseness growing inside her as she was forced towards the edge of climax. “I love being fucked like a girl!”

Ryoga smiled wickedly, slamming into his rival all the more brutally and earning wails of ragged pleasure in response. “That’s right... you love lying on your back and having a fat cock shoved in you, don’t you!”

“Yes!” Ranma managed, feeling as if she was being shaken apart by the power of his thrusts, her entire body jolting with them, breasts bouncing beneath her shirt.

“You want me to cum in you? HUH?! You such a slut you wanna feel a guy’s cum in you?” Ryoga, too, was having difficulty getting the words out, his cock swelling slightly inside her, his warm breath washing in quick bursts over her face.

“Cum in me!” the redhead howled, arching her body up high, alerting everyone in the neighborhood that didn’t already know what was happening beneath the awning. “Cum in my pussy, Ryoga!”

She felt a sudden rush through her, like sparkles had been injected into her veins, a sort of bursting of invisible light inside her head and rushing up and down her body. Distantly, she felt a fresh rush of warmth inside her, felt Ryoga’s body go tense above hers. Then she was trembling, as if every muscle in her body had been held tense for too long, and she felt cool air against her hot face and along her inner thighs and drenched sex.

Dazedly, she watched Ryoga stagger to his feet, he himself seeming rather confused as he righted his pants and opened his umbrella. With a strange look in her direction, he raised the umbrella and walked into the rain, and in moments had disappeared down the street, having never said a word.

Ranma lay there on her back, slowly letting herself relax, feeling the cold concrete against the curves of her ass, and feeling a mixture of fluids trickling from her slit and along the smooth skin to tickle slightly at her puckered rosebud.

‘... Okay, what the hell was THAT?’

 

Ranma stumbled in the door, wincing a bit yet again at the soreness between her legs. She felt more... confused, than anything. Something seemed to be holding off the real trauma of feeling as if she’d been raped. It was a little hard to feel as if she’d been raped when she’d so thoroughly participated and enjoyed it. That STILL was perplexing.

‘Could I have actually... wanted it? Is that why... no, no way! This is some weird thing Ryoga did.’ She nodded, hugging herself as she started up the stairs, no thought on her mind other than to flop into bed. It was comforting, putting the blame on Ryoga. There was no way it could possibly have been her own fault. ‘Weird day. Weird day, that’s what this is. One hell of a weird day.’

She slid open the door to the guest room she and her father had made their own, not bothering to be very quiet, as she suspected the old man could have slept through it if she’d marched in playing ankle-cymbals and a trombone. Stepping over to the dresser, she peeled her pants and boxers down, legs still glistening with the wetness of the rain, and as she noticed when she bent over, other fluids. Muffling a sound of mortification, she swiped at her inner thighs with her wet pants, trying to clean them off.

“Ranma.”

She almost yelped and jumped at the sound of her name, whirling around so fast that her wet pigtail slapped her cheek. Ranma winced a little as she noticed her father sitting up on his futon, gazing levelly at her. No, wait... his eyes were lower down. ‘What the hell? How long has he been awake?! Was he staring at my ass when I was bending over or something?’

“Ranma, what have you been doing that you need to wipe off your cunt?”

The last word was said quite sharply, and the redhead winced at the rare strength in her father’s voice. In fact, it reminded her a bit of the tone Ryoga had started using. Oh god...

“N-nothin’, pop... just-”

“Come here.”

“Hey, pop, m’tired, just lemme-”

“Come HERE, boy!”

Wincing again, Ranma slunk towards her father like a whipped puppy. She stopped at the foot of her father’s futon, trying to look at him without actually looking at him. He was glaring at her with his “stern teacher” expression, which had actually stopped working several years ago, but for some reason seemed newly formidable. He looked her steadily up and down.

“Were you out fucking some guy?”

“N-no, I’d ne-!”

“Don’t LIE to me!” Genma snapped, eyes flashing behind his glasses. “You went out and got fucked, didn’t you?”

“It... ain’t like that pop, really, see it ain’t my fault, it was-”

“Shut up,” Genma interrupted once again, standing slowly and glaring down at Ranma.

Ranma gulped audibly. As a boy, she’d been taller than Genma for almost three years, it had helped remove much of the imposing nature Ranma’d considered him possessed of as a child. But in girl form, Genma was still larger, if not by much height, he was still considerably broader and bulkier, and not THAT much of it was fat.

“Take off your shirt, Ranma.”

“... Pop...”

“Now.”

Ranma bit her lower lip, resisting the urge to let fall some tears, and instead bringing her shaking hands up to start undoing the clasps of her Chinese-style shirt. In a few moments, she was peeling the wet cloth off her skin and truculently letting it drop, revealing the large, firm mounds of her breasts to Genma, wet skin glistening faintly in the moonlight filling the room.

“Are you proud of them, boy?”

“W-what’re you talkin’ about?”

“Your tits, boy. Are you proud of them?” Genma sneered. “It certainly has seemed that way on a number of occassions. Still, I hadn’t expected you to be proud enough of them to go use them to get yourself a man.”

“No, pop, you got it all wrong, it was-” This time, Ranma was not interrupted by her father’s words, but his hands, her protest ending in a surprised gasp as Genma’s large, calloused hands cupped her breasts and squeezed, slowly but very hard.

“Don’t give me your bullshit, Ranma. Now...” Genma glared, stroking his rough thumbs in circles around the hard nubs of his daughter’s nipples. “Who. Did. You. Fuck?”

Ranma writhed as if she were being interrogated by having her toes burned, keening faintly, eyes clenched closed. Finally, in a shaky voice filled with shame, she managed, “Ryoga.”

“That stupid lost boy, eh?” Genma snorted, giving Ranma’s hard little nubs a sharp pinch, making her give an aborted little yip of mingled pain and pleasure. “That’s who you went out and fucked, hm? Did you suck his cock? Did he make you cum?”

“Yes,” Ranma groaned, shame rushing through her more than ever, pushing along the back of the building pleasure, heightening it like before. “I... he made me suck his cock... and I came when he fucked me...”

“My son’s become my little slut daughter, it seems,” the older man snorted. “Nodoka will kill us for sure. So in the meantime...” He gave Ranma a shove, sending her to the floor with a small ‘oof’. Then he shrugged out of his gi shirt, revealing a wide paunch that was still only a mild layer of fat overlaying muscle, then shoving down his pants.

Ranma stared unbelieving at her father undressing, before her gaze naturally wandered downwards. Genma was at least as thick and long as Ryoga, she couldn’t really tell in the poorer light and with the man moving around still. But his balls were noticably larger, hanging down and swaying heavily with what was probably a good deal of pent-up seed.

“No, pop, please, don’t...”

“Quiet, GIRL,” Genma growled, sitting back down and folding his legs. He took hold of Ranma’s upper arm and hauled her close. “You’ve had a boy, and now you’ll have a man. You’ve put my life in danger, so I’ll make you pay for it, in the way the common whores like the one you’re becoming earn THEIR pay.”

Ranma closed her eyes, trying to fight down panic. She knew what was coming, and sure enough, it was only seconds before her head was pushed down and she was commanded to lick. She stayed very still for a moment, trying not to hyperventilate even with the musky odor of male sex so close by, the feel of her breasts hanging down and swaying just a little with every breath, brushing against Genma’s thick, scruffy legs.

After long seconds, she opened her eyes to the barest slits, a few tears slipping loose as she lapped lightly at her father’s shaft a few times. Ranma could taste him, a headier and stronger taste than Ryoga’s, and she found herself lengthening her licks without thinking about it, stroking her tongue along the underside of his shaft.

“If you’re going to suck cock, Ranma,” Genma said with remarkable calm, smirking down at the little redhead. “You’re going to learn to be the best little cocksucker I can make you. Use that tongue... tilt your head to one side, and curl your tongue around the other side of my cock.”

Ranma sniffled a bit, then gave a tiny nod, turning her head a little to the right and sliding her tongue out as far as she could, curling it around the side of Genma’s shaft. She felt her father’s hand in her hair, guiding her to bob up and down, a motion she’d learned when sucking Ryoga off, and was soon applying on her own, pausing occassionally to switch the side of his cock to wash with her tongue.

“Mmm, that’s right... that’s a good little whore. You like sucking cock, don’t you?”

‘Oh god, I do,’ Ranma wailed internally, without urging slurping the head of Genma’s cock into her mouth and suckling noisily, slurping her tongue around it and collecting drops of precum almost greedily.

“Ahhhh,” groaned Genma, tilting his head back a bit, then leaning forward again to watch Ranma as she started bobbing her head. Reaching under her, Genma found his daughter’s nipples and began tweaking and pinching, delighted by her little squeals and whimpers around his shaft. “There we go, slut. I’ll just amuse myself with your tits while you suck me.”

Ranma moaned as her father’s coarse hands stroked and squeezed at her large breasts, undeniably feeling urged on, and forcing herself downward until she felt the head of her father’s cock press her throat open. The little redhead was an adept learner, and this time had no problem using swallowing motions to carress the head of his cock with the working of her inner muscles.

Soon Ranma was moving her head in long, smooth strokes up and down Genma’s shaft, pulling him all the way in each time, feeling his warm balls press against her chin rather ticklishly. She could also feel herself getting wetter and wetter, almost dripping on the floor, her honey coating her inner thighs, warm on her cold skin. She felt a quickened throbbing of the shaft filling her mouth, and heard the quickening of the dirty talk pouring from her father’s mouth, and began sucking harder, her cheeks hollowing.

“Nnng... get up at the head and stroke me the rest of the way off, my slutty little daughter,” Genma grunted, squeezing Ranma’s breasts. “I want you to swallow the nice thick load I’ve been saving for you.”

‘Swallow?!’ Ranma thought, remembering that Ryoga had pulled out and calmed down before taking her pussy. Still, she obediently rose up and sucked only at the spongy head of her father’s cock, raising a hand off the floor to stroke his saliva-slick shaft. She felt it throb, then actually swell a little just before her mouth was filled with hot seed, salty and somehow spicey. “Mmph!”

“Swallow,” Genma demanded throatily, then groaned as Ranma obeyed, feeling her mouth work around him as she gulped down his cum.

‘How much has he GOT?!’ Ranma thought in a bit of awe as she slurped down her third mouthful. She made a low sound of confusion in her throat as he grabbed her hair and pulled her off his cock, only to close one eye and turn her head away, streamers of white spattering over her cheek and chin.

“Decorated like a proper whore now, aren’t you, girl?” Genma snorted. “Now, get on your back and spread your legs. I’m sure you know how.”

‘He’s got another one in him?’ Ranma groaned internally, feeling a bit of dismay well up, but rather hastily obeyed, finding that the ache in her drenched pussy was speaking louder than her thoughts of protest. She watched with trepidation as her father looked her over, running his calloused hands from her breasts all the way down to her ankles. Finally, it was her legs he took hold of, pushing them up and forward.

“Let’s just see if you can take the nice deep fucking I’ll give you, girl...”

“P-pop...”

Genma leaned forward, easily finding Ranma’s entrance and pushing in, encountering little resistance from the redhead’s recently-fucked pussy. Ranma groaned long and low, yielding to the urge to clench around him a little, delighted at how it made him feel even larger.

“Well well, if the eager little slut isn’t working my cock with her cunt,” Genma chuckled, sheathing himself fully in his daughter’s sex, then starting to thrust down into her, using his weight to give his movements more forced, pinning Ranma against the futon with his shaft.

“Ah! Oh fuck, pop!” Ranma whimpered, tossing her head like a mare being studded, closing her eyes and biting her lower lip to try and muffle any further outbursts. But she couldn’t help it, the feeling of a man’s heavy weight atop her, a cock filling her, she was loving it, and the fact that it was her own father only seemed to sweeten the deal. Her concerns fled before her newly-heightened libido, Ranma groaned aloud. “Oh, pop, fuck me hard, just like that!”

“That’s right, whore, beg for it!” Genma smirked, ramming down into Ranma’s sex. “Come on, keep begging me!”

“Ah! Pop! Ram your cock in me!” Ranma shuddered. “I need your hard cock! Mmmph!” The redhead opened her blue eyes wide in surprise at finding Genma’s lips suddenly jammed against hers, but merely moaned again as the assault on her pussy continued, not giving it a second thought as she sucked hungrily on her father’s tongue as it was shoved in her mouth.

Genma continued to muffle her with the rough, deep french kiss as he pounded away at her sex, his balls slapping firmly against the curve of her ass with each thrust into her. Her felt her stiffen under him, heard the faint scratch of nails against the futon surface, and felt more than heard her long wail into his mouth as she spasmed, her pussy milking at his pistoning shaft. With an animal grunt, he felt himself start pumping his second load into his daughter’s pussy, his thrusts turning faster, sharper.

Ranma barely registered rolling onto her side as she started dozing off in the aftermath of her orgasm, but it was with an almost purr of contentment that she slept, Genma’s still-hard cock throbbing where it was firmly imbedded in her sex.

 

She woke up in a fog, an odd taste in her mouth, wondering why she was so sore and felt oddly... full. ‘Wha? What’s goin’ on?’ Then Ranma gasped as her father shifted against her, and began pumping his hips against her where they lay on their sides facing one another, his cock stroking in and out of her rapidly-slicking pussy.

“Good morning, girl,” Genma grunted, voice gravelly. “Since you’ve decided to be a slut instead of a martial artist, I think this will serve in lieu of your morning workout.”

“Ahhh!” Ranma gasped in reply, the strange events of last night rushing back to her on the wave of pleasure building from between her legs. The redhead clenched against her father, breasts pillowing against his broad chest, tossing a leg over his hip and almost immediately starting to pull herself against his thrusts. She was again surprised as his lips mashed against hers, but again dismissed rational thought for pleasure, father and daughter’s tongues stroking over one another.

In this position, Genma’s cock rubbed firmly against Ranma’s clit with every stroke, and it wasn’t long before the little redhead was shuddering and cumming all over her father’s cock, feeling it spasm and shake and spurt inside her. Ranma panted as she rolled onto her back, feeling Genma’s cock slip out of her with a faint wet sound.

“Hurry up, girl,” Genma muttered distantly as he pulled on his gi and sauntered out of the room. “You may be a slut, but you’re still not going to hang around here all day.”

Ranma groaned quietly, tossing an arm across her eyes. If anything, she thought her strange condition might at least get her out of school. After a few minutes, she shoved herself up and got clean clothes out of the drawer, pulling on last night’s shirt and feeling thankful that it was long enough on her female form to cover everything. Then, using what stealth she had, Ranma slipped out into the hall and headed for the bathroom, doing her best to avoid contact with anyone.

It felt infinitely good to dump water over her head and feel the grime of rain, the street, and two men off of herself in the privacy of the bathroom. And as Ranma slipped into the hot water of the furo, a good number of the sore spots simply disappearing. ‘Well, thank god for small favors,’ Ranma sighed, sinking lower into the water.

He remained in the furo for as long as he thought he could milk it, then reluctantly rose from the water and dried off, pulling on his clothes and heading out and down the stairs, feeling about ready to jump out of his skin.

“Ohayo, Ranma,” Kasumi said brightly, and from directly behind him.

“GYAH!” The pigtailed boy jumped several feet in the air, whipping around and pressing his back to the wall, staring at Kasumi with wide eyes, expecting her to plaster herself against him at any moment and start... start... uh, what exactly was he afraid of, again?

Kasumi blinked, tilting her head. “Maa, Ranma, are you alright?”

“Um... fine?” Ranma ventured, feeling sweat bead on his forehead.

“Well, hurry up to breakfast, then, you don’t want to be late,” the older girl chirped, turning and heading into the dining area.

‘Um, okay... maybe it doesn’t happen with girls?’ Ranma turned to follow, a twitch developing in his eyebrow. ‘Geez, are pop and Mr. Tendo gonna maul my male form?!’ Now there was a... scary... thought. Shaking his head in foreboding, he entered the room and sat down at his usual seat.

“Ohayo, Ranma,” Soun said in his usual lightly-formal tone.

“Mr. Tendo.” Ranma, confused, glanced at his father, who merely grunted in greeting while shoveling down his own breakfast.

“Ranma, just what were you doing last night?” Akane groused. “Were you and your dad sparring in the middle of the night?”

“Yes, Ranma. Were you sparring?” Nabiki repeated, though her tone and the gleam in her eye said that her own suspicions were somewhat closer to the truth.

“Y-yeah, that’s it. Always training, hahahahaha!” Ranma answered quickly, trying to concentrate on eating and not on the way Nabiki was staring at him, making it quite clear she didn’t buy his lame exclamation for a second. “Er, uh...” He suddenly bolted down his food in record time and leapt to his feet. “I really gotta go, gonna be late for school an’ all!”

“Whaaat?! What’s with you today?!” Akane demanded, eyes wide. “You never want to get to scho-... hey, wait!” She leapt to her own feet as Ranma ignored her questions and raced out of the room, following him. “Wait up, you jerk!”

Ranma was already running headlong along the fencetops by the time that Akane was able to catch up to him, the short-haired girl glaring up at her fiance. “Just what is the matter with you?! I mean, besides the usual?!”

The pigtailed boy paused to stick his tongue out at Akane, then gradually slowed himself to a light trot along the fence. “Er... let’s just say I’m... not quite feelin’ like myself today.”

“Hmph.” Akane turned her nose up. “If I were you, I’d be relieved to feel like anyone but myself!”

Ranma leaped down from the fence into a seperated area forming a gate, whirling to shout a retort at Akane... only to stagger forward lightly in surprise as a rush of cold water hit against his back. Dripping, the now redheaded Saotome turned to gaze flatly at the old woman that had splashed her almost every day for a year. How, HOW did she do it, HOW did she sneak up through Ranma’s defenses and innocently douse her like that? It was one of the great mysteries of the ages, no doubt, because whatever it was, it was NOT Ranma’s fault.

The pigtailed martial artist turned back to Akane to find that the other girl was... staring at her, looking a little dazed. “Er, Akane... you okay?”

“W-what?” Akane shook her head lightly, then nodded. “Er, yes, I think so. ... Maybe you’re right, Ranma, maybe there’s... something in the air today that’s weird.”

“Or a full moon’re somethin’,” Ranma muttered, trotting off towards school on the sidewalk this time.

“Right, right, a full moon!” echoed the other agreeably, keeping pace beside Ranma. “That’s probably what it is, really. Keeping people from sleeping right, keeping them from acting nor-... usual.”

‘Could that be it?’ Ranma blinked a little, absentmindedly fiddling with the straps of her backpack. ‘The moon causing all this weird stuff to happen? I guess weirder things have happened. Maybe that’s what it is. It’ll be gone in a few days and I can just forget about it.’

The gates of the school loomed in front of them, Ranma and Akane making their way into the courtyard, which was empty today, save for a lone figure. Upperclassman Tatewaki Kuno stood waiting near the school doors, a light breeze ruffling his hakama and his slightly wild brown hair. He was striking one of his more dramatic poses, bokken angled downwards with one hand, the fingertips of the other lightly resting against its base, brown eyes narrowed, focused, and intense. So easy to forget what a formidable fighter he was, when he had to measure up to the likes of Ranma Saotome.

Ranma groaned internally, hoping she could get away without too much groping to sneak off and find hot water somewhere. But to the mutual surprise of herself and Akane, there was no headlong rush with shouts of “Akane Tendo! Pigtailed girl!” Instead, Kuno strode slowly forward, lowering his bokken from the ready position, his eyes settled firmly on the small redhead.

‘Oh no.’ Ranma felt a quavering inside, as well as felt a low burn starting at the cleft of her legs and a tension at the cap of each breast. ‘Oh no, not again, not with Kuno, it’s not fair, the moon’s not even out...’

“Pigtailed girl,” Kuno said, voice low and seeming to rumble with the thunder he styled himself after. “As I have stood here, awaiting the presence of your loveliness, and that of the beautious Akane Tendo, a vision came to me. In this vision, all of the gods did whisper their whims into my ears, and told me that today was a day not for dating, but for a culminating of passion with my crimson-haired love...”

“What are you waiting for?” Akane hissed out of the side of her mouth. “Sock this idiot and let’s go in!”

Ranma turned a bleak look towards Akane, then an equally helpless one to Kuno. She didn’t even give a sound of protest as the tall, broad-shouldered boy swept her off her feet, cradling her with one arm under her knees and the other supporting her back, and started carrying her back through the gates towards the street.

“HEY!” Akane squawked, her eyes bugging. “What’s going on here!”

“Fear not, Akane Tendo!” Kuno called over his shoulder as he bore away the unportesting Ranma. “For I believe the gods shall inform me that our own day of passion draws nigh!”

“...” seemed to be the only appropriate response to THAT.

 

‘At least he didn’t do it in front of the whole school,’ Ranma thought, expression flat as she allowed herself to be carried. ‘Though this’s bad enough.’ One of the most galling things, though, was that it wasn’t so bad, being carried around like this, especially when he wasn’t groping or shouting poetry.

“So silent, my love,” murmured Kuno without taking his eyes from the mansion they were nearing. “Worry not, for soon your cries of ardor shall express your feelings most eloquently.”

‘That’s what I’m afraid of,’ Ranma sighed mentally, letting her head lean against Kuno’s chest.

Through the gateway they walked, entering the opulent yard of the Kuno Mansion, but thankfully not passing near to any of Kodachi’s pools or pens or gardens. As they went up the steps, the front doors swung open to reveal Kodachi standing framed in the large doorway, her hands on her bared hips, as usual wearing nothing but a tight black leotard. What she was doing skipping school herself, who knew, but it seemed it was her prerogative as much as Kuno’s.

“I see you’ve brought your redheaded harridan home with you, brother,” Kodachi said in a low, contemptuous tone.

“Silence!” Kuno barked with uncharacteristic forcefulness and firmness towards his sister.

Kodachi blinked, seeming surprised as well. But whatever it was that was affecting Kuno apparently had an impact on her as well, causing her to snap into Good Japanese Girl mode. Kodachi put her hands together and bowed her head lightly, tone now formal. “Forgive me, brother.”

“Very well,” Tatewaki answered haughtily, walking past Kodachi while still carrying the nonplussed Ranma. “I assume you have not forgotten your duties.”

Kodachi raised one eyebrow, swinging the doors closed before following her brother. “It has been some time, but I have not forgotten.”

“Excellent.”

Ranma had run the obstacle course of the mansion’s halls often enough to recognize that she was being taken to Kuno’s room. Once inside, the tall boy set her down on her feet before resting his hands on her shoulders and looking down warmly at her. “Being of a noble house, my sister will, in the ways of ancient tradition, prepare you for our time of passion.”

“... Hai,” Ranma replied quietly. ‘I never heard of no tradition like that...’

Giving an approving nod, Kuno stepped back, moving a short distance away to sit in a nearby chair. Kodachi glanced at him briefly, receiving another approving nod, before moving to Ranma in a few graceful steps and smoothly beginning to undo the clasps of her shirt.

“It has been some time since my brother brought a girl home in such a manner,” Kodachi said quietly, tone still mildly contemptuous towards Ranma, but kept down so that she would not be reprimanded again. “You will have to forgive me, girl, if my manner is somewhat rusty.”

“Whatever,” Ranma muttered back as Kodachi tugged only lightly at the shirt to send it fluttering to the ground. But even Ranma’s tone had no fight in it, and she obediently stepped out of her pants, boxers, and shoes as the other girl knelt to pull them down and off.

The leotard-clad girl stood, moving around Ranma and towards the door. “I was not given warning, and thus have not brought the proper things. I will return quickly, brother.”

“Very well,” Kuno answered easily, eyes never leaving Ranma’s nude form.

The redhead stood there, hands at her sides, letting her eyes sink closed. But still, she could feel his gaze on her, roving over her body, far calmer and more appraising than his wild leers had ever been before. Why this change? And why did it arouse her to know he was simply sitting there, watching her, thinking of all the things he was going to do to her?

But the sound of the door sliding open and then closed again came quickly, and Ranma opened her eyes to watch Kodachi striding forward, holding a tray with a number of different-colored bottles and pots on it. The gymnast knelt in front of the redhead without a word, setting the tray nearby, and chose a dark grey pot about the size of a softball. Removing the lid, Kodachi dipped her fingers inside, scooping out an amount of the mostly-clear gel inside, and began slathering it across Ranma’s pubic mound.

Ranma bit her lower lip, starting to squirm lightly, then quickly forcing herself to stop as Kodachi turned a mild glare up towards her. The raven-haired girl’s touches were not even intended to arouse, merely to spread the substance to all the applicable areas around Ranma’s mound; yet nimble fingertips still encountered flesh that was becoming wetter and more ready by the moment. The substance frothed lightly as it was spread and worked in, turning into a thick white foam that smelled lightly of roses.

Once the foam had completely covered Ranma’s crotch (and the applying of it had her breathing a bit heavier, breasts rising and falling more obviously), Kodachi unfolded a hand towel from the tray and lightly stroked it over the area with smooth, deft strokes, the foam coming away as easily as water and leaving behind skin as smooth and hairless as if there had been none in the first place. Replacing the lid and resting the jar back in its spot, Kodachi stood and picked up the tray.

“Go lie down on the bed, girl. On your stomach.”

By now, obeying such orders was starting to become instinct, and Ranma immediately turned, walking over to Kuno’s bed and sliding down onto it, feeling soft sheets against her breasts and belly, folding her arms in front of her to rest her head on them. The circulation of air through the house sent a soft, steady rush of cool breeze across her legs and buttocks, a rather pleasant sensation. She watched as Kodachi strode across the room, turning her tray so that a number of brightly-colored jars and bottles were towards him, and bowing slightly.

“I think...” Kuno said airily, seeming to easily fall into the role of a haughty emperor taking part in the preparation of his royal property. He raised a hand, fingers hovering over the rows of bottles, before settling on a light green one. “The apple.”

Kodachi nodded once before turning and moving to the bedside, setting the tray down and retrieving only the chosen bottle, before moving up onto the bed on her knees. The oil felt cool on Ranma’s back, making her shiver as it pooled lightly between her shoulderblades and ran down the light groove formed by her spine. Kodachi’s hands went to work, rubbing the apple-scented (and flavored?) oil into Ranma’s skin; they were hands just as deft at this as at gymnastics, apparently, for even the light strokes of spreading oil over the skin were as good as any massage, and soon the small redhead was laying almost bonelessly on the bed, suppressing a faint groan of relaxation despite the situation.

Those soft, deft hands slid across her back, over her shoulders and arms, even stroking her cheeks and forehead, thumbs sliding along the shape of her lips, leaving what was indeed an undeniable taste of sharp, delectably tangy and sweet green apples. Kodachi’s hands slid along Ranma’s buttocks, leaving them gleaming with the oil, and then down over the long curves of her legs.

“Roll over,” Kodachi ordered with attempted impassion after what felt like hours; despite her attempt at curtness, her voice nevertheless carried a slight huskiness.

Obediently, already having fallen into the place where she no longer cared about pride or the whys and hows, but only that what felt good should continue, Ranma flopped over onto her back and let her arms sprawl above her head. Kodachi’s hands set to work again, pouring fresh oil and slathering it across Ranma’s neck and throat, in simple, sweeping strokes over the full curves of her breasts, making the redhead gasp softly at even the casual touch to her achingly hard nipples. Slick hands slide over Ranma’s firm, quivering bare belly, spread the flavored oil across the newly-smooth expanse of her sex, slid in easy, confident movements across her inner thighs and her shins.

Finally, Kodachi seemed satisfied that she had fully coated Ranma with the apple oil, and stood, capping the bottle and setting it aside, having left her brother’s intended as gleaming and shiny as a statue of precious metal. She turned around as one expecting to see something, and seemed unsurprised that Kuno had risen, shedding his hakama and standing nude nearby. Ranma appraised him openly, not even twitching mentally as she observed, with satisfaction, that he was as well-endowed as Ryoga.

“Orange,” Tatewaki said succinctly, holding his arms out to the sides. With an obedient nod, Kodachi plucked up a clear bottle filled with transluscent orange oil and stepped the few paces required to bring her near, wiping her hands on a clean towel in a businesslike manner. Soon, her talented hands were sliding over his bare chest and arms, leaving gleaming skin and more perfectly outlined muscles in their path.

‘I love oranges,’ Ranma thought, feeling almost giddy with anticipation. She watches as Kodachi quickly coated Tatewaki’s upper body, including his face and neck, with the oil. The raven-haired girl knelt, pouring more oil and rubbing her hands in broad circles over his hips, unabashedly and without blushing stroking the oil over her brother’s erect cock, cupping his balls with both hands and moving them in a light motion that left them gleaming as well. She gave it no special attention and soon moved onto his legs, though Ranma’s sharp eyes caught a dart of Kodachi’s eyes to that erect shaft and a quick appearance of soft pink tongue across the gymnast’s lips, but Kuno never even looked down.

Soon, Kodachi was rising again, collecting her tray and bowing lightly. “If that will be all, brother?”

“You may go,” Tatewaki said in an offhanded manner, waving a hand dismissively.

Kodachi nodded, turning and striding gracefully to the door. As she turned back around to close it behind her, Ranma saw those violet eyes focused on her in... desire? Jealousy? Both? And then the door was sliding closed.

“Ah, pigtailed girl,” Kuno breathed, drawing slowly closer to the bed, his toned body glistening like that of some Greek god of myth. “Now it is our time to culminate our passions...”

‘Shut up and get to the culminating, already, geez,’ Ranma thought, despite her rapt expression. ‘This would be so much less embarrassing if you’d just quit talking.’

Luckily, it seemed Kuno had other pursuits in mind for his mouth, his lips pressing to Ranma’s in a deep but tender kiss, his body pressing down atop hers, slick cock sliding across her equally-slick belly. Ranma mmphed softly, surprised by this different kind of kiss, but finding herself rather pleased by it as well, her eyelids feeling heavy and lips seeming to turn softer and more receptive to the touch of Kuno’s, the light dance of his tongue and hers slower, more deliberate than the kisses she’d experienced before.

His hands stroking over her were also far less urgent, more calculated and gentle, than any of the fondling Ryoga or her father had done. But Ranma somehow found it less... fulfilling. Her body was used to rough treatment, to punches, kicks, living off the land, it had grown accustomed to that kind of interaction with... well... everything. The soft squeezes and carresses to her hips and buttocks and along her breasts were definitely an interesting change, though.

Kuno broke the kiss and began lipping his way down the side of Ranma’s neck, his tongue darting out in quick little strokes and sliding through the apple-flavored oil glistening on the redhead’s body. Ranma groaned quietly, twining her fingers through the tousled brown curls of Kuno’s hair and arching her back, presenting her full, glistening breasts for his attentive lip service. And attentive he was, almost immediately starting to swirl his tongue around each globe from its base right up to the nipple in a long, lazy spiral.

Ranma let out a long, slow exhalation of breath that contained the low beginnings of a moan, pressing Kuno down a little bit each time his tongue worked over one of her achingly hard nipples. Each little lick and small bite just made her that much more needy, and soon her legs were twitching with it, heels digging into the sheets, fingers clenching in his hair. Trying her best to take her mind off it lest she go completely crazy before anything else even happened, Ranma forced her eyes open and tilted her head back, rather abruptly noticing the very large posters of herself and Akane adorning the walls and ceiling around Kuno’s bed. ‘Geez, she’s not actually here, but I think the photo looks pissed...’

Her mind was pulled from the photographic Akane’s possible ire back to what was actually going on as Kuno began moving lower, resuming his kisses and licks down the midline of Ranma’s stomach. ‘Huh? What the hell’s he doing? Wait, can guys use their mouth to-’ “WHOA!” Ranma’s eyes shot open and her head dropped back as Kuno began putting what was turning out to be a very talented mouth to work on Ranma’s tender pink sex.

“Indeed, pigtailed girl,” Kuno said solemnly, before pressing his mouth in close against Ranma’s pussy, working his tongue against her at close range, working it around and inside, stroking over sensitive, wet flesh with his agile tongue.

Ranma pressed one palm hard against her mouth, highly suspecting that Kuno wouldn’t react positively to a passionate cry of profanity from his ‘innocent pigtailed goddess’. Her hips twitched upwards against his mouth, seemingly of their own accord, wanting that nimble tongue to press in even deeper. As his head started to raise back up some, Ranma gave a soft moan of dismay, trying ineffectively to push him back down. But Kuno seemed insistent on searching around above her entrance instead, and-

“AH!” Ranma’s back arched like a bent switch, her eyes going wide again, as there was direct stimulation on a part that had only been rubbed incidentally before. Kuno’s lips fastened tight around the redhead’s clit, clamping it lightly between his teeth and using quick movements of his tongue like a combination of pressing against it and licking along it. With each such movement, Ranma gave a loud, pleasured cry, and after only a handful, her body was bucking and trembling, the cries having turned into one loud, long, shaky one.

Ranma slowly settled down, her breasts heaving with every hard breath. She didn’t know if that one had been so intense because Kuno had used his mouth or because she was smooth down there, or maybe a combination of both, but right now she didn’t care.

“Now, my love, it is of course only fitting that you return the favor.” Kuno moved up, straddling Ranma’s shoulders and leaning in somewhat, Ranma blinking in a bit of surprise as his cockhead brushed lightly over her lips. “I will, of course, forgive you for not being experienced.”

‘Oh, you’ll forgive me, huh?’  Ranma thought, pride and competitiveness coming raging to the surface. Without a second thought, she wrapped her lips around the head of Kuno’s shaft, closing her eyes after a moment to focus on the taste of sweet oranges, giving a faint coo of pleasure at it that seemed to go over quite well with Tatewaki, as a shiver ran all through his body. She began almost immediately bobbing her head, tongue washing over the underside of his shaft in an attempt to gather up as much of the orange flavor as possible.

“Ah... that bastard Saotome has no doubt forced you to practice such arts on him,” Kuno ranted briefly, leaning forward and putting his hands on the wall, then thumping a fist soundly against it and giving a loud groan. “Damn him!”

‘You sound more like you’re thankin’ me, and that’s just what you should be doin’,’ Ranma mused, smug now as she twisted her head lightly from side to side, trying to get a bit more of the oil onto her tongue before pushing herself fully down on his cock, her lips working lightly around the base. This time, when she began moving her head in long strokes, Kuno began working his hips lightly, small, slow thrusts down past her lips, giving Ranma even more of a feeling of having her mouth fucked. She gave a few soft mmmms and a couple of swallows as she worked over his member, pressing her lips in when drawing back, then gulping him down eagerly.

“My love... I come!” Kuno declared, thrusting down a bit harder, at the same time reaching down to shove Ranma’s head against the pillow, sliding her back until just the head remained in her mouth. Ranma knew by now to start gulping as she felt his cock shudder against her lips, the tangy, sweet taste of orange mingling with the salty, almost spicey taste of Kuno’s seed.

“Ah, pigtailed girl,” Tatewaki huffed lightly, pulling away from Ranma’s mouth and scooting down on the bed. “Truly, your mouth is a sweet and delectable flower. But now I shall be truly joined to you, and take the sweetest flower of them all.” Taking firm hold of Ranma’s thighs and lifting slightly, Kuno began pressing his glistening cock into the redhead’s equally shining folds.

Ranma couldn’t deny, this time, that she was absolutely eager to feel a hard cock filling her up, and she raised her hips to let him angle his push more easily. Her hands came up to rest on Kuno’s slick shoulders, desperate for some sense of being grounded as the feeling of hot hardness spreading her, filling her began already to push her to the edge.

Kuno slid his cock fully into Ranma’s eager pussy, making no comment about her lack of a hymen, thankfully, and immediately began to pump into her, slowly and steadily. Ranma groaned quietly, feeling that molten heat within her stoked, but so gradually and slow, not hard and fast like before. “H-harder,” she gasped quietly, closing her eyes and letting her fingers clench lightly on his shoulder. “More.”

“As you wish, my pigtailed goddess,” Kuno breathed throatily, speeding up with each thrust, the strength of them starting to press Ranma down against the mattress. Soon, she was giving short, soft cries with every thrust, feeling his balls slap lightly against the underside curve of her ass, feeling the throbbing of his cock against her sensitized inner walls. She let her fingers clench a little more, leaving shallow scratches on Kuno’s shoulders, bucking her hips up against his thrusts more eagerly.

She felt herself getting close, so close, but the closer she got, the slower it seemed she was getting there. Finally, her body shuddering with need, Ranma angled her legs to get her heels behind Kuno’s thighs, encouraging him to thrust into her with more strength. That seemed to do it, and she felt herself suddenly hurtling towards the edge, screaming out as her pussy clenched tight around that pistoning shaft inside her.

Kuno gave a sharp cry of his own, grabbing Ranma’s hips and suddenly pushing her forward slightly, at the same time pulling back, yanking his cock from her fluttering cunt and abruptly shoving forward again, the underside stroking along the redhead’s clit as he fountained long streamers of milky cum across her stomach, a few spatters of it even hitting the undersides of her breasts. Arching his back and giving a long shudder with the last of his orgasm, Kuno then fell forward, resting on his hands.

Panting, acting on some half-conscious thought, Ranma raised one hand to her belly and slid a finger through some of the cum pooling there, bringing it to her lips and licking it off, this time tasting a mixture of salt and apple. Kuno noticed this and gave a low, confident chuckle. “Worry not, pigtailed girl... you will have many opportunities to taste of me this day. I only require perhaps fifteen minutes rest, and then we may start anew.”

‘Well, I’ve had worse ways to kill a day skipping school,’ Ranma mused with a philosophical air, giving her finger a few more speculative licks.

 

Cologne chuckled as she hopped into her room to pull back the mat covering the visual representation of her curse. She’d skillfully maneuvered Shampoo away from any Furinkan students that might have had rumors about Ranma’s activities, and in waiting on them herself had learned that Ranma had not quite made it past the gates before being scooped up and carried off by the foolish kendo boy. She knew full well Ranma’s disdain for the boy... what humiliation it must be!

She blinked a little bit at the swirling circle of prismatic light that represented the curse. ‘This is quite strange. It’s weaker than it should be... as if a month or two had passed rather than a day.’ She leaned closer, peering at the spell with her lanternlike eyes. ‘Could her body already be adapting to the spell? So quickly? Even for son-in-law, that seems unlikely. I should investigate further...’

After a moment, Cologne tossed the mat back into place. ‘Later. For now, perhaps it is for the best. My actions may have been rash, in any event.’

 

Ranma sighed, rubbing one shoulder and rolling her head around to try and get a kink out of her neck. By the time Kuno had muttered something about a bath and dropped off to sleep, the sun had already been sinking over the horizon. Ranma had indeed taken a bath, and found her clothes laundered, folded, and smelling of roses. (Luckily, there didn’t seem to be any poison or paralysis powder on them. At least, nothing that had taken effect yet.) Resting both hands behind her head, Ranma continued trotting along the sidewalk, taking the scenic route back to the Tendo Dojo.

‘At least it’s a nice evening,’ she thought without any real enthusiasm, looking up at the dusky sky. ‘Be nicer if I knew what the hell was going on.’ At least none of the men passing by her on her walk home had tried to grab her or do anything... they’d just leered at her, openly and perversely, basically in a way she would have beaten the crap out of someone for, before. Annoyingly, now it made her a little flustered, and she’d wound up blushing every time.

“Fresh bean rolls!” called a solitary sidewalk vendor, raising a plate of his wares up and forward for inspection by those passing by. “Best you’ll find around here!”

‘Eh, I should probably eat, who knows if I’ll get any dinner back home.’ Ranma turned and made her way over to the vendor, feeling her cheeks heat as he looked her up and down. “Uh, yeah, I’ll take...” She flushed even darker as her stomach gave a loud growl. “... a dozen.”

“That’ll be 1200 yen, then,” the vendor replied, grinning at her.

“Uh...” Ranma dug around in the pockets of her pants, then even went so far as to swing her backpack off her shoulders and dig around through it. Nothing. ‘Crap, must’ve given my last to Nabiki for some hot water the other day or something.’ Groaning quietly, Ranma stood, giving the vendor a soulful look. “Um, I don’t really have it, so if I could maybe... owe you...?”

“Sorry, don’t extend credit,” he shot back with a mild sneer, deliberately setting the plate of bean rolls down, deliberately as far as possible on the cart from Ranma as they could be.

Ranma looked after the food longingly for long moments, then heaved a heavy sigh. ‘Oh, hell, why not?’ Dropping the soulful act, she just gave the vendor a lightly pitiful look. “So can I maybe pay for them some other way?”

The vendor took a quick glance around, then waved her back. “Around here, girl.”

Mentally squaring her shoulders, Ranma ducked around to one side, coming to stand to the right of the vendor, then giving a soft mmph as he put a hand on her head and pressed her down and forward. She went to her knees in front of him, finding herself mostly in darkness between the curtains hanging down over the back of the cart, jostled in with the plates and spare utensils and heating pans.

“Fresh bean rolls!” the vendor continued to hawk as Ranma pulled the flap of his apron up and to one side and unzipped his pants, pulling out his half-hard cock and stroking it, almost idly appraising its length and width in the shadows of the cart’s recesses. Deciding that he was nothing spectacular, Ranma dipped her head forward, taking in the head and suckling quietly, letting her tongue roll around the head.

‘Just think of it as the first of the bean rolls,’ Ranma encouraged herself, despite the fact that she was finding herself not needing much encouragement. She let her hands rest on the man’s hips, starting to move her head back and forth, working more of his shaft into her mouth.

“That’s a good girl,” the vendor murmured quietly, giving a faint moan as Ranma deepthroated him, then called, in what was a passably normal voice, “Best you’ll find! Bean rolls!”

“I’ll take four,” came a woman’s voice, Ranma flushing brightly at the thought of people so nearby as she performed her dirty little deed. Still, it was hard to think it was a coincidence that she was now feeling soft, ticklish little trickles down her inner thighs as she hollowed her cheeks to suck harder on the vendor’s by now throbbing cock.

“Yes ma’am, four,” the vendor replied, covering the shakiness in his voice with a light cough.

“Mommy, mommy, can I have a drink too?!”

“Alright. One can of cold tea as well, please.”

“One drink... coming up, ma’am,” the vendor said with a soft grunt, spilling a thick load into Ranma’s mouth, the redhead hurriedly swallowing it down, too hungry and turned on to care about what she might think of herself later.

“Thank you. Now, come along, Akiko, and don’t drop any...”

“Haaai!”

Ranma quickly slipped the vendor’s limp member back into his pants and zipped him up, then scooted out from under the cart as he stepped back some to give her room. She found him grinning at her broadly, and holding out a plate stacked high with bean rolls. “Fourteen... you definitely earned ‘em.”

“Yeah. Thanks, mister,” Ranma said in a mildly surprised tone, taking the plate and turning to set off at a slow trot, grabbing one of the buns and tearing into it with her teeth. ‘Well, hell, the most I ever scored just doing the cute act was two... here’s a whole big plate for free.’ It was a simple equation, in the oft-hungry Ranma’s life, that whatever resulted in good, easy food couldn’t be entirely a bad thing. ‘... Maybe there’s somethin’ to this, so long as nobody finds out.’

 

Ranma called “Tadaaaiiimaaaa” quietly as she slide the foor closed, giving her shoes a light kick to the edge of the step. She heard steps nearby, and Kasumi leaned out from the hallway.

“Oh, Ranma. Akane’s gone on a sleepover, and Nabiki’s out as well. I left a plate in the fridge for you... father and Uncle Saotome are watching television, if you want to join them.”

“Thanks, Kasumi. I already got something to eat, though.”

“Alright. I’ll be upstairs!”

Ranma slipped over to the edge of the door, listening to Kasumi’s footsteps recede up the stairs, then the faint sound of a door closing. Then, she leaned her head against the wall. The fact of the matter was, she was horny. Despite spending all day getting thoroughly taken by Kuno, sucking off the street vendor had gotten her ready to go again. Whatever was happening to her, it was hard to ignore the insistent ache of her female body. So, since it seemed the universe had conveniently set things up for her... she’d just have to take advantage of it.

The redhead squared her shoulders a little, taking a deep breath, then moving over to the living room and heading in. The overhead light was turned out, the room lit only by the flickering of a black and white martial arts movie. Ranma slipped around to stand in front of the couch, looking back and forth between the two men sitting on either side of it. “... Hey pop. Hey, mister Tendo.”

“Ranma, do sit down, you’re in the way,” Soun murmured almost absentmindedly, wabing a hand in Ranma’s general direction.

“Yes,” Genma added, though his eyes wandered up and down his daughter’s body. “Out of the way.”

Ranma frowned, coming dangerously close to pouting. Last time, her father had almost jumped her... what, didn’t she look as good? Sulking, Ranma moved over and flopped down on the couch between the two men, folding her arms over her chest and slumping low, glowering at the screen. This movie was better than sex with her?! It didn’t even have Jackie Chan in it! They’d somehow dug up an old martial arts movie that didn’t have Jackie Chan in it!

She glanced back and forth between them without turning her head. Well... she’d just have to take things into her own hands, to get what she wanted. Literally. Slowly unfolding her arms, she slid her hands into both mens’ laps, starting to stroke exploringly over their crotches.

Both Soun and Genma stiffened, in more ways than one, both men sitting up a lot straighter. But by some unspoken agreement, neither spoke nor looked away from the screen as Ranma started rubbing more insistently, her fingers following the outlines of their hardening shafts, stroking down over the cushioning of their balls. ‘You guys can’t ignore ME. Just watch.’

Smirking, Ranma tugged their pants down in front, fishing out both hard cocks and wrapping her hands around them. She eyed Soun’s for a moment as she began stroking... hmm, he was actually a little bigger and longer than her father. Still grinning, Ranma settled back more comfortably on the couch, stroking her hands a little faster, letting her hands twist lightly in the middle of each stroke. ‘Yeah... hey, this is cool. I’ve got ‘em right in my hands... got control over ‘em... this’s great.’ She licked her lips lightly, then letting her thumbs stroke over the heads of their cocks.

Soun and Genma were starting to gasp and grunt, hips arching up towards Ranma’s hands pumping over their cocks. The pigtailed redhead started squirming back and forth in her own seat, feeling moiture starting to ooze down her skin, tickling over her rear pucker. ‘That feels... kinda good... whoa...’ Ranma gasped a little herself as she felt trickles of precum dribble over her fingers.

Finally, satisfied she’d gotten them sufficiently turned-on, Ranma got up onto her knees on the couch, bending her head over Soun’s lap and wrapping her lips around the head of his cock, starting to bob her head, tongue collecting the light sheen the precum had left. She felt the couch coushions shift under her as her father moved up behind her. The redhead moaned around Soun’s cock as she felt Genma pull her pants over the curve of her ass, letting the loose black silk fall down around her knees, before grabbing her hips and starting to push into her needy pussy.

“Mmmm!” Ranma began moving her head faster, tongue stroking over the silky skin of Soun’s shaft, slipping one hand down to cup and gently fondle his balls. Genma started thrusting into her, not bothering to build up, just taking her hard, pounding his cock into his eager daughter’s molten cunt, Ranma’s tight inner walls grasping warm and wet all around his pistoning shaft.

Feeling Genma pound into her was getting Ranma just what she needed, and her blowjob was getting steadily sloppier, loud sucking and slurping sounds escaping from her lips where they were wrapped around Soun’s cock. She gave a squeal around it as Genma shoved hard into her one last time, feeling that warm spread inside her that came with his cum. Ranma arched her back hard, her pussy working around his cock as she orgasmed from the feeling; as her head came up off of Soun’s cock, her ponytail fwipping behind her, the first shot of the mustached man’s cum filled her mouth, subsequent sprays spattering over her face as she moaned through her climax.

“How kind of you to finally show some gratitude for your room and board, son,” Soun rasped, pulling Ranma up and forward and quickly undoing her shirt, calloused hands cupping under her breasts and lightly lifting them, pressing them together and kneading them, working them against one another, his thumbs rubbing over the tight little pebbles of her nipples.

“Hey, whatever I can do to be of service,” Ranma moaned in reply, rolling her shoulders to drop her shirt completely off, then shaking her pants off her lower legs. Soun shoved his own pants down and off as he lay back, resting his hands on Ranma’s waist and pulling her forward atop him.

Ranma spread her legs, resting her knees on the couch on either side of Soun’s body, and eagerly sliding herself back, her dripping slit swallowing up the older man’s cock. At a mixture of the urging of his hands and her own desires, Ranma began rocking back and forth, grabbing Soun’s shoulders and shoving herself back against his cock. “Mmmm!”

Then, she felt hands coming to rest on her buttocks, spreading them apart, a second shaft’s underside rubbing over her tight little puckered rosebud. Gasping, she looked over her shoulder. “Hey, what’re you...?!”

“Quiet, girl,” Genma growled, bringing a hand down in a loud slap on Ranma’s ass, making the redhead squeal in something that wasn’t quite protest. Then, grabbing her hips and keeping her slid fully down onto Soun, he began pressing the thick head of his cock against his daughter’s tight little asshole, starting to push in slowly.

“Ah!” Ranma quickly dug the ball of her palm against her upper teeth to try and muffle herself. “What’re you... ah, geez, that hurts so fuckin’ good...”

Ranma’s tight, virgin ass continued to slowly spread around her father’s thick shaft, the little puckered ring closing around the head, seeming to be trying to suck the rest of the shaft in after it. Genma grunted, keeping up the hard, steady pressure, not letting the tightness keep him out, until his hips pressed up against Ranma’s firm, curvaceous buttocks.

“G-god... so full,” Ranma whimpered, then yelping as Genma grabbed her pigtail and yanked back on it.

“Yeees, that’s right, girl,” Genma growled, working his hips back and forth less than an inch. “Beg us for it, show us you want it...”

“Fuck me,” the redhead gasped, working her hips around in any direction that seemed to help her feel the cocks filling her ass and pussy rubbing her inner walls. “Please, fuck me!”

Both Soun and Genma began to do just that, Soun thrusting up into Ranma as much as he was able, pressing himself against the couch to get down lower and thrust back up into the petite redhead’s dripping cunt. Genma had much freer reign, slamming himself down against Ranma, pressing her down against Soun, his hips slapping against Ranma’s buttocks audibly with every thrust.

“Nnng! Aaa! Aa! AA!” Ranma tossed her head as much as she could with her father still holding her pigtail tightly in one hand. Her honey dribbled and swirled around Soun’s shaft as he pulled out of her, and squelched audibly and sent out a light spray as he thrust back up into her. As Genma started pounding into her faster, the shock carried through her body, setting her full breasts to jiggling and bouncing. “Fuck me! Cum in me! AH!”

Genma groaned loudly, his broad, muscled form gleaming lightly with sweat as he worked the length of his cock deep into his daughter’s tight ass, the impacts working her pussy down against his best friend’s shaft. Soun brought his hands up, catching Ranma’s bobbling tits and kneading them thoroughly, digging his fingers into the yielding flesh deep but with a competence brought from years of marriage.

Ranma bit down on her lower lip, just barely managing to muffle herself as she came hard, pussy and ass clamping down around the cocks filling her, the tightening sending rushes of thick, hot seed flowing into her as if she’d pushed a button. Ranma tossed her head, arched her back, thrust her hips backward, anything to somehow work off this sensation without letting Kasumi know just what was going on down here, right out in the open of the living room.

After long moments, Genma pulled his cock out of Ranma’s ass with a long squelching sound, allowing the redhead to slowly swing herself off of Soun and stand on the floor. Ranma bent over and rested her hands on her thighs, trying to catch her breath, a mixture of the mens’ cum and her own slowly trickling down the insides of her legs from her pussy and ass.

“That was very good of you, Ranma,” Soun said calmly as he pulled up his pants, settling back on the couch, avoiding the damp spot that the middle cushion had become. “Thank you.”

“Yes, good work, girl,” Genma grunted, yanking his own pants mostly back into place and slumping in his seat, eyes fixing on the screen again.

“Yeah... welcome,” Ranma huffed, still feeling a little breathless. After a moment, she grabbed up her clothes from the floor, taking a few swipes at her inner thighs before turning and padding out of the room on wobbly legs, still naked. The halls were still desserted and quiet, and Ranma had no problems getting to the bathroom.

He rubbed his chin as he relaxed in the steaming waters of the furo several minutes later. It was embarrassing and humiliating, finding himself so helpless against men when in female form. However... the pleasure of it was pretty impossible to deny, even for him. Kuno had wrung way too many orgasms out of his other half to even count, and then... well, after that, she’d actively chosen to suck off the street vendor, and even made an effort to get her father and Soun to take her.

“This is all just really weird,” Ranma muttered, running a hand through his hair.

“Weird? Maybe. Profitable? Oh, most definitely.”

With a yelp of surprise, Ranma sat up and scrambled back against the side of the tub, staring with wide eyes at Nabiki where she was leaning against the bathroom counter, wearing a pair of very short denim cutoffs and a tight orange long-sleeved t-shirt with the sleeves pushed up to her elbows. She had her arms folded over her chest, smirking broadly.

“My my my. The poster boy for loud cries of manliness fucking his own father and that of his girlfriend.”

“No... I, uh... it’s something... not my fault, I can’t help...!”

“I find it hard to believe you couldn’t help pulling their cocks out and giving them handjobs.” Nabiki held a hand up, spreading photos like a hand of cards. “I got home juuust in time to catch that little show. I’ve got so many photos I could make a flip show into a decent movie.”

“But... I can explain, it’s something that I-”

“Oh, shut up, Ranma.” Nabiki pushed lightly off the counter, sauntering over to the tub and looking down at the pigtailed boy. “This is way, way beyond something like Shampoo cuddling on you or you running around topless. I’ve already got scans of these, the computer’s sending out copies to all my hidden databases. I. Own. You.”

Ranma’s eyes narrowed, and he sat up taller. “Hey, no one owns-!”

“*I* own you!’ Nabiki snapped back, smirking again as Ranma sank sheepishly back into the water. “Now get up here and sit on the edge.”

Ranma gulped lightly, then bobbed his head once, slowly standing up and stepping over the edge of the furo, hands clasped over his crotch as he sat back down.

“I don’t recall telling you you could cover up... slave.” Nabiki raised one bare foot up to rest beside Ranma’s hip, stroking a hand along his cheek in a manner more reminiscent of possessiveness than affection. “Move those hands right now.”

Ranma swallowed audibly again, feeling his breathing starting to quicken again as he moved his hands to the side, letting his thick cock raise up from captivity, angling outwards as if pointing upward between Nabiki’s legs at her pussy.

“My my, looks like my new slave’s already all hard. Is it the recent fucking? The pictures?” Nabiki’s voice dipped down into a sultry coo. “Or maybe the fuckslut’s actually getting turned on at being ordered around?”

“I... I...”

“Shut up,” Nabiki repeated in a much milder tone, slapping Ranma lightly on the cheek. “I do the talking. You’re the fucktoy. You talk when I tell you to, say what I tell you to. So tell me what you are.”

“I’m...” Ranma shuddered lightly, finding his eyes sliding over the full curves of Nabiki’s breasts, down to the creamy flesh of her legs, the thin strip of denim hiding her crotch. “... I’m a fucktoy.”

“You’re MY fucktoy,” Nabiki corrected, slapping Ranma’s other cheek lightly with the back of her hand.

“I’m your fucktoy,” Ranma murmured apologetically, lowering his eyes, suddenly feeling unworthy to look upon the vision before him.

“From now on, you’ll do whatever I say... whoever I say. These pictures mean you belong to me. You make me unhappy, you disobey, I’ll show Akane, I’ll put them on the school bulletin board, I’ll send frickin’ posters to Ukyo and Shampoo. You understand, fucktoy?”

“Yes,” Ranma whispered. “I understand.”

“Oh, you do? That’s a GOOD fucktoy, then.” Nabiki smiled, lowering her foot down from the edge of the furo and sinking gracefully to her knees. “Well, since you’re being such a good fucktoy, mistress will take care of this awful little discomfort for you.” Catching Ranma’s eyes with hers and holding his gaze, Nabiki slipped her lips over the head of Ranma’s cock, sucking lightly and swirling her tongue around it.

Ranma immediately groaned loudly, tossing his head back, shudders going all through his body. Over the past day and night, he’d given, in girl form, any number of blowjobs, either voluntarily or somewhat less than. But this was the first time actually feeling a girl wrap her mouth around his own cock, feeling the hot, wet embrace and gentle, varying suction.

Nabiki began bobbing her head, quick dips downward and long, slow drags back up, her tongue nimble and agile, obviously practiced at this task. She lightly stroked the base of his cock with one hand, squeezing around it and pushing up, as if encouraging him to get longer and harder than he already was, which didn’t even seem possible to Ranma.

And soon, he felt her throat push open around the head of his cock and accepting him in, her lips working over the root of his shaft. Then she began moving her head quickly, tracing all the slight rises of veins and raises of silky flesh with her tongue. Ranma started groaning, whining, his wet pigtail thwacking audibly against his neck and cheeks. And then he felt as if everything Nabiki had been causing to build up in him was pouring out of his cock into her mouth.

Nabiki raised her head up, suckling hard at the tip of Ranma’s cock, her lips forming a tight seal around the spongy flesh. As the flow of Ranma’s seed trailed off, she raised her head, a creamy trickle running from one corner of her mouth. Turning her head, she spat the thick load right to the drain in the floor, running her thumb across her lips and wiping it on the side of her cutoffs.

Ranma groaned, his breath coming in hard shudders, eyes closed. Then they shot open wide again as he felt Nabiki’s mouth on his cock again, moving quickly over it, her tongue dancing wildly over it, the blowjob twice as intense as before. Ranma couldn’t help bucking up against the hard suction the was providing, pushing his cock deeper into her mouth and down her throat.

But this time, it just went on, and on, for long minutes that kept stretching out further and further, the pleasure building and waning, then gradually rising up again, only to level out into a long plateau. It got to the point where it was almost pain, it was certainly torture, making him gasp repeatedly in need and frustration.

When he came in her mouth again, it was almost more of a relief than anything else, the tension in his cock lessening and spreading out through the rest of his body as pleasure. Left breathless and panting, he looked up at Nabiki as she rose to her feet. Then the middle Tendo daughter smoothly leaned forward, putting a hand to Ranma’s cheek and kissing him hard. Groaning softly, Ranma kissed back, shuddering as Nabiki’s tongue pushing into his mouth was accompanied by a light rush of his own cum into his mouth. Nabiki pressed her lips against his, keeping them closed, waiting until she felt his jaw move in a swallowing motion.

Standing tall again, Nabiki smirked and swiped the back of her hand across her mouth. “You’re going to make a good, and very profitable, fucktoy, Saotome. Be in my room tomorrow morning after breakfast. We’ve got preparations to do.” And without another word, she turned and walked out of the bathroom.

Ranma stared after her for long moments, then turned and slipped back into the tub, sinking down all the way up to his nose.

... Oh well, at least things weren’t all bad.

 

The next morning at breakfast was... odd. Kasumi was the same as always, all smiles and sweetness. Akane just sat at her place at the table, staring at Ranma and not looking away with an obvious ‘What the hell’s going on?’ look. Nabiki looked perfectly calm, despite the fact she had Ranma squirming with a foot in his lap and bare toes working over his cock through the cloth. Sound and Genma both seemed mildly withdrawn, occasionally speaking quietly to one another and planning a night of drinking.

“I’ve been invited to a party tonight,” Nabiki spoke up after a moment, giving Ranma a quick, wicked smile. “Mind if I borrow Ranma for just one night, Akane? I really shouldn’t go unescorted, and I know Ranma would NEVER let anything untoward happen to me.”

“Um... I dunno,” Akane murmured, looking down and poking listlessly at her breakfast.

“Aw, please, imouto? I really need someone to go to the party with, and it’s not like an actual date...”

Akane looked up, giving Ranma a long, searching look. After a few moments, she just shook her head. “Yeah, do whatever you want, it’s not like I care.”

“Good! Well, Ranma, you’ll need a brush-up in manners, so come on up when you’re done.” Nabiki stood, hips swaying lightly under the high khaki shorts she was wearing this morning.

Ranma huffed, relaxing a little, though his hardon was now throbbing rather insistently. He blinked some as Akane scooted over to be a little closer to him, the short-haired girl speaking in a hissing whisper.

“Just what’s going on?! What was that yesterday with Kuno?!”

“I... just didn’t feel like fighting and stuff, and it was a good excuse to get out of school,” Ranma said after a moment’s thought, keeping his head lowered to hide his guilty face.

“Guess so.” Akane shrugged a little bit, then sighed softly and rose, leaving the room with one last glance back at Ranma.

Ranma glanced at the others, noting that Kasumi was starting to turn away... just the right time for him to hurry out of the room without his obvious hardon getting noticed. Scrambling up to his feet turned out to not be a good idea, however, as his foot caught on one leg of the table and sent him sprawling forward. Grabbing out for anything to balance him, his arms of course wrapped around Kasumi’s waist, his desperately-flailing hands coming to rest on her breasts.

Both Ranma and Kasumi were abruptly as still as statues, seeming frozen in place with the pigtailed boy’s hands on the eldest Tendo daughter’s breasts and his hot hardon pressed firmly against her rear. Genma and Soun watched, both seeming more curious than scandalized or angry. Finally, Ranma broke away with a yelp and ran from the room as if his hair were on fire.

Blushing, Kasumi smoothed out her skirt. “... Oh my.”

 

Glancing around nervously, Ranma rapped lightly on the door to Nabiki’s room.

“If it’s Ranma, come in!”

Ranma pushed the door open just enough to slip inside and close it behind him. He gawked as he took in the sight of Nabiki, her back to him, bending over and apparently just finishing stripping. Perfectly calm, she straightened up and whirled around to face him, breasts swaying lightly to either side from the movement.

“Well? Strip and down on all fours, fucktoy.”

Nodding nervously, Ranma quickly doffed his clothes and walked to the middle of the floor where Nabiki was pointing, getting down on his hands and knees, cock jutting below him, a few drops of precum leaking from the tip to make tiny wet spots on the floor.

“You’re all eager, aren’t you boy? Yeees you arrre,” Nabiki cooed, ruffling Ranma’s hair, obviously using a tone of master to a dog on purpose. “Good boy needs to look straight forward and not what mistress is doing. One bark for yes.”

Noting a little wryly that there was no option for “No”, Ranma cleared his throat and gave a weak, “Arf.”

“Tsk, that’s not very good at ALL,” Nabiki bemoaned melodramatically, putting a hand to her cheek. “We’ll have to see if we can’t get something better out of you.” Moving slowly to one side, Nabiki reached down and yanked the tie off of Ranma’s pigtail and gave the braided hair a shake, letting the raven locks spread out into a looser tangle. “Your coat needs some brushing, I think, boy.”

“Woof,” Ranma replied flatly.

“Oooo, and puppy is insolent, too,” Nabiki gasped in mock outrage, giving Ranma a light slap on his bare ass. “Well, we’ll get that taken care of!”

Smirking as she noticed that Ranma shuddered and kept his head straight forward, Nabiki opened up a drawer and pulled out a strapon, rubbing her thumb lightly along the smooth, eight-inch black rubber shaft it sported. Sliding part of it between her legs, she gave a soft “nnn” as the short plug on the crotch slid into her damp pussy. Ignoring that for the moment, she went about pulling the various catches and latches tightly-closed, the thin leather straps digging into her lightly-toned and taut flesh a little.

“We’ll just have to see if we can make puppy howl a little, yes we will,” Nabiki continued, the cutesy talk blatantly carrying a mocking tone now. The entrepeneurial young woman slid the end of a tube of lube along the length of the shaft, then giving it a toss before starting to stroke the cool, slick liquid over the rubber, making sure that a great deal of it wound up on the stylized head.

“Alright now, puppy,” Nabiki purred, settling down on her knees behind Ranma and grabbing his hips, the glistening, dripping strapon hovering just behind him without quite touching. “HOWL for me!” With those words, she rammed forward into him, shoving at least half the slippery rubber cock into Ranma’s ass at one go, and steadily continuing to push in.

“AAMMPH!” Ranma yelled, having barely managed to bite down on his tongue to muffle his cry of pained pleasure, his cock throbbing steadily underneath him.

“Ooo, that’s a good puppy... knows when to do as his mistress says in moderation.” Nabiki smirked even broader as she raised one leg to brace the ball of her foot on the floor, using it to shove herself forward a bit harder, the leather of the strapon’s main body rubbing against Ranma’s firm buttocks. “So we’ll see if we can make puppy howl, even when he’s ordered not to make any noise.”

‘Oh, dammit,’ Ranma whimpered mentally, feeling sound jump in his throat as Nabiki started pulling back. ‘Not even a girl this time, and I’m getting fucked... BY a girl.’ The thought made his traitorous cock give a light jerk of arousal, more precum dribbling out to dampen the floorboards.

Nabiki shoved back into Ranma hard again, earning another strangled whimper. Soon, she started stroking into him faster, the slickened rubber shaft disappearing into the boy below her’s asshole. Pressing one hand against his lower back, she slapped his firm buttock with the other hand as she pulled back. “Like it, don’t you, puppy? Taking it up the ass, just like you did for your old man!”

‘Ah! Dammit!’ Ranma arched his back, his throat working around groans and whimpers he was suppressing. It did feel great, Nabiki filling up his ass with that smooth fake cock, knowing it was a girl’s curvy hips smacking against his rear, imagining her breasts bobbing and jiggling with her thrusting motions. His cock was literally painful now with its throbbing, begging for attention, as needy and wanting as his pussy had ever been.

Finally, either relenting or just deciding she wanted to, Nabiki leaned forward, her breasts brushing over Ranma’s back with the faintest touches, one hand dipping under him to grab his cock and pumping it hard, not bothering to match the pace to the rough thrusting of the strapon into his ass. Ranma let a small yelp escape before he clamped his teeth together, grinding them a little with the effort of staying silent.

After a few minutes, Nabiki changed to hard, sharp slams into Ranma’s ass, with long pauses in between them, while her hand all but blurred over his cock. Ranma threw back his head, only making a sort of gargling sound as he began to cum, his thick, white load spattering on the floor, dribbling over Nabiki’s fingers, some even splashing over his chest and arms.

Nabiki muffled her own low groan, having quietly climaxed several times while fucking her sister’s fiance up the ass, the leather crotch of the strapon and her inner thighs glistening with her honey. She gaves Ranma’s cock a few rubs against his stomach, smearing some cum over his sixpack, before slowly standing up, the rubber shaft pressing down against the lower walls of his ass before giving a quiet *pop* as it slid free.

“Good puppy,” she said, a little breathlessness seeping into her businesslike tone. Releasing the strapon to clatter lightly to the floor, she picked up a convenient towel and wiped off her hand, then slid it along the insides of her thighs. Apparently satisfied that she was clean enough to continue, Nabiki picked up a glass of water from her bedside table and tossed it almost negligently over Ranma.

Giving her head a shake sent damp scarlet tresses falling in tangles forward of her shoulders, and Ranma huffed lightly. “C-can I get up now... mistress?”

“Not yet, slut,” Nabiki snorted, rising to her feet and bringing one foot up to rest lightly on the back of Ranma’s head, giving a mild push down. “Clean up the mess you made.”

Feeling utterly humiliated, Ranma scooted back and leaned far down, lapping at the little puddles of cum and precum on the floor, her soft pink tongue stroking over the hardwood floor and leaving the polish lightly shining. Nabiki sat back down on her bed to watch, lips curled in a smirk as she folded one leg over the other. After several moments of the redhead licking at what was obviously a clean floor, she called. “Okay, come here, slut, but you can just stay on all fours like a proper bitch.”

Wincing a little, Ranma made her way over to the bedside, staying on her hands and knees, ass wiggling enticingly and breasts swaying lightly underneath her. She found herself looking right at one of Nabiki’s dainty, perfectly-formed foot. Chuckling as she noticed the proximity, Nabiki angled her foot to press her big toe against Ranma’s lips, and made a pleased sound as the younger girl picked up on the cue easily and took the toe into her mouth, suckling lightly and working her tongue over it, eyes downcast subserviently.

“Now that’s a very good slut,” Nabiki said, allowing a trace of approval to seep into her tone. “You can just keep doing that, but look up here at my face.” Grinning at the sight of baby blue eyes fixed on her gaze, seeing the near-worship that Ranma was trying to hide, Nabiki leaned back on her hands. “I’ve got you in every way it’s possible to have someone, Saotome. You’re fucked. I don’t actually do the fucking myself, of course, other than a blow or using one of those things.” She tilted her head briefly at the strapon. “So my little forays into the high society’s parties and gatherings aren’t quite what they could be.”

Ranma mmphed enquiringly around her toe.

“Well, of course the rich old men come to parties like that to have a chance at fucking all the hot young girls. I’m building a solid network of connections, money, and business practices, and all I have to do is be willing to get down on my knees and provide some suction. But you can’t go all the way if you don’t go all the way.”

Ranma dragged her tongue along the underside of Nabiki’s toe, sighing softly through her nose as she realized where this was going.

“That’s where you come in, Saotome. You’re going to be my whore. While I know I’m drop-dead gorgeous, let’s face it, of the two of us, you’re the more fuckable. I might even do better when I let them fuck my ‘protege’ instead of doing it myself. Mm, alright, that’s enough. Sit up on your knees, hands behind your back, back arched, slut.”

Ranma followed Nabiki’s instructions, her breasts lifting up in a display pose, stomach looking taut as she assumed the position as ordered. “What... will I do?”

“You’ll go to the parties, look pretty, and get fucked, of course.” Nabiki chuckled some. “Basically, I’ve got until eight o’clock tonight to teach you the proper way to hold a wine glass, not eat like a starving pig, and walk in an evening dress and look good.” Nabiki leaned forward, giving the redhead a light thwack on the side of the head with her palm. “I know crap like that’s buried somewhere in your thick skull, Saotome, you’ve pulled the girly act before.”

“But I...” After a moment, Ranma sighed and shook her head. A mildly sneaky look came to her features. “What do I get out of this?”

“Your continued existence, since that revolves around these not getting out.” Nabiki immediately held an image of Ranma sandwiched between her father and Soun Tendo in front of the redhead’s eyes.

“... Oh. Right.”

“Well, depending on how well you do,” Nabiki continued with an offhanded air, tossing the photo to the bed beside her. “Some of the money might work itself your way. But the thing is, Ranma, so long as you’re my property, the better I do, the better you do. Do well enough, I’ll get daddy to switch the engagement to me again... if he doesn’t want to keep you for himself.” Nabiki smirked for a moment, then shrugged. “By then, I should have built up enough resources to protect myself from the other girls if they decide to make themselves problems again.”

“... But...”

“No buts, Saotome. You fuck the guys, you pay the price. And the price is fucking who *I* tell you to.”

“... Yes, mistress.”

“Alright, then. Let’s get started.”

 

 

Kodachi sighed softly, laying on her stomach in the broad expanse of her bed, black satin sheets supplying stark contrast to her pale, supple nude form. Rubbing her cheek lightly against the pillow she was hugging to herself, she felt the strands of her loose hair brush over her cheek as they fell away from her face.

It had been so LONG since anyone had shared this bed with her. So long since she had pressed another girl down against the mattress, made her beg and scream and cry and climax. Far, far longer since she had deemed any man worthy of being brought back here to be bound, teased to near-madness, and then ridden until he was barely conscious. So long... she ached, a spreading sensation from every part of her, the need for another’s sensual touch caressing her body, the feel of taking someone... but never being taken, no, that was reserved for Ranma-sama. Only he could be the one who would pin her to the bed, to make her his...

Giving a quiet sound of vexation, Kodachi slid up a little onto her knees, feeling the slinky fabric of her sheets moving against her skin. Slipping a hand down, her arm pressing against the side of one breast, she began stroking lightly along her pale pink labia with two fingers, spreading her slit a little bit with each stroke. She groaned quietly as she felt wetness start to slide down her slim fingers... this was nowhere near as good, but it would have to do.

Her hips began moving up and down in a slow, graceful rythm, stroking herself against her fingers as much as stroking her fingers against herself. Her lithe body slid lightly along the sheets, the scent of roses wafting up from fabric. Her eyes fluttered closed... perhaps Ranma-sama would touch her here... or here...

But her violet eyes shot wide open as she felt a pair of hands come to rest on her smooth, perfect ass, the full head of a cock pressing against her conveniently-spread pussy. Looking wildly over her shoulder, she saw her brother with his most gallant expression on his face. “You should not be forced to such solitary disgrace, my sister.”

“Tachi... AA!” Kodachi threw back her head as Kuno pushed in, smoothly sheathing himself in the gymnast’s receptive, wet depths in a single stroke. “No, do not... I must.... be on top!”

“Ssshhh.” Tatewaki leaned forward, one hand coming to rest on the bed beside Kodachi’s head, the other stroking her hip as he began to thrust, long, steady strokes, using the utmost of grace in every move he made.

“Nnng... aaa...” Kodachi closed her eyes again, groaning at the feel of her brother filling her again and again, pressing into her, gently rocking her body forward against the satin. “Tachi!” She grasped handfuls of the sheets in her hands, drawing them closer to herself reflexively. It had been so long...

“You must occassionally be reminded that I love you,” Tatewaki replied magnanimously, his voice breathy and a little shuddery despite his calm. “If this is how I choose to do so, so be it!”

“Love me,” Kodachi gasped, throwing her head back. “Love me, my brother!”

Tatewaki pulled her fully up onto her knees, Kodachi’s cheek still resting against the bed, her breasts lightly swaying against the fabric with the new angle. Tatewaki increased the speed and strength of his thrusts into his sister’s eager sex, but never failing in the grace of his movements, the perfect samurai fluidity of them, fucking his sister as if it were an intricate kata with only one perfect culminating move.

“Yes! Yes!” Kodachi threw her head back, a wild smile on her lips, eyes flashing. “OH YES!”

Kuno gave a long groan, shoving his cock deep into Kodachi’s pussy, leaning his head back and letting shudders race through his body as he painted his sister’s pink inner walls with thick splashes of milky white. After a moment, he started to pull out. “Having aided you, I should go and seek the pigtailed girl for a Sunday date, sister...”

He erked as he felt a leg wrap around his side, yanking him back in close. Kodachi looked over one shoulder at her captured prey, smirking. “And who said you could leave... brother dear?”

 

 

Cologne examined the weakened prismatic swirl of the curse she’d placed on Ranma. It was still going fairly strong, but by now it wouldn’t even be having the same effect. At least, nowhere near as strong an effect. Picking up some of the special chalk she used for such spell-monitoring diagrams, she added a few lines around the circle. Immediately, a shimmering yellow miniature of Ranma’s female form appeared in the middle of the circle. And shot through the yellow were little swirls and patches of silvery prisma.

‘The spell is becoming integrated with Ranma’s ki and chi!’ Cologne drew back, then scowled. ‘No wonder the spell is weakening. It’s becoming internalized. This is an unforeseen development... I have made a grave error.’

Still ruminating on the possible meaning of this change, Cologne began rather absentmindedly drawing a much larger circle around the first, using it to denote the entire Nerima area. Once done, she muttered another incantation, intent on seeing if there had been any more bleedoff... and stared.

Instead of the little flat-lying patches she would have expected of some of the spell remaining on a wall or floor or bed where Ranma might have been, she instead saw at least five other distinct spell-circles, not as strong as the first had been originally, but quite visible all the same. Two were grouped together, and seemed to be in an entirely other part of town. One was directly next to Ranma’s own spell-circle. The fourth was about a block from the Tendo dojo. Another looked to be a few blocks further away. Even as Cologne watched this one, it shimmered, stretching out on one side, then suddenly popping into a pair of adjacent circles, rather like an amoeba dividing.

“Damn Ranma and his unpredictable nature,” Cologne swore quietly. Quickly, just to make sure, she drew another, smaller chalk circle outside of the large one to denote any area outside of Nerima. Immediately, another swirling spell-circle popped into being, this one almost as strong as the first. And there were more appearing around it. ‘It’s spreading... using the ki of those it encounters to keep itself strong as it divides. The colors are different... it’s changed, perhaps made itself more general-purpose. I’ve unleashed the magical equivalent of a lust virus on this world.”

The old woman huddled within her robes, clutching her staff like a lifeline. The question was, now that she’d done it... what could she do about it?

 

Ryoga grunted loudly, sweat pouring off his skin, his hair drenched with it, fingers digging into the hips of the girl beneath him as he pounded away at her with his diamond-hard cock. The dyed-blonde tossed her head, squealing and arching, falling down onto her elbows from her hands, still managing to rock herself back on her knees towards him. Her inner thighs were drenched with honey, her skin shining with sweat, her breasts swaying and bouncing beneath her, brushing over the sheets.

Sprawled in other parts of the room were a few other girls, equally sweat-drenched and with equally messy pussies, most of them asleep or just barely conscious. In a few other rooms of the brothel, other girls had roused enough to grab new male patrons and start going at them with unprecedented desire.

The lost boy’s breath came out in long rushes between clenched teeth, eyes almost ablaze as he pounded into the blonde like a machine. He’d spent his load a dozen times since he’d wandered into the brothel in a daze, showing that his stamina and endurance was not limited to fighting. But no matter how many times he came,  it couldn’t seem to satisfy him. Nothing could, not like that strange encounter with Ranma... the encounter that, before it had occurred, Ryoga would have fainted dead away with a gushing nosebleed at even realizing what this place was.

With a grunt, Ryoga slid back out of the girl, stroking a hand almost contemptuously along his dripping shaft, before sending long ropes of cum to spatter over her buttocks and the drenched pink lips of her sex. The brothel-girl threw her head back, screaming at the feel of hot liquid spattering on her skin, then collapsed on the bed, already out cold, a smile on her face.

The fanged young man staggered to his feet, grabbing his pants and pulling them on, not bothering with his shirt, just grabbing it and his backpack as he weaved his way out the door, stepping into his shoes as he went.

He had to find out what had happened...

More importantly, he had to get relief.

 

Ranma sighed quietly as she sat, naked, on a stool in front of Nabiki’s full-length mirror while the older girl ran a comb through her hair. She’d been thoroughly cleaned, lightly perfumed, hard-drilled in how to hold a wine glass and eat like a lady, and told to basically shut up and not do anything unless Nabiki told her to or had earlier told her to.

Nabiki finally stepped back, pondering her work. Ranma’s hair now hung loose down past her shoulders, gathered back behind them. The brushing had teased it into light waves instead if rather scraggly straightness, and the effect was quite feminine. Nodding in approval, Nabiki leaned down and lightly smacked Ranma on the butt with the back of the brush. “Up!”

Ranma obligingly (and quickly) stood, then glanced over her shoulders. “You’re not gonna make me wear any girly underwear, are ya...?”

“No underwear, not even the girly kind,” Nabiki replied with a smirk, pulling a pair of white garment boxes out of the closet. Opening one, she pulled out the black dress inside. “Arms over your head.”

Sighing, Ranma held her arms straight up, darkness descending as Nabiki dropped the dress over the redhead’s body. The brunette tugged the dress down and began fitting it close into place, making sure it was snug in all the right areas, and pushing all the other right areas up. She spent a few minutes with the brush fixing Ranma’s hair where it had gotten a little rumpled. “Okay, take a look.”

Ranma looked into the mirror, and couldn’t help twisting a little side-to-side to look at it. It was black, of course, straps going over her shoulders but leaving them mostly bare, and showing off at least a third of her breasts with its low, flat top. It hugged up under her breasts, and kept close against her stomach and sides. The dress part itself came down to her ankles, less like an actual dress than a curved flap on either side, trimmed in broad white lines, with the sides slit all the way up to the tops of her hips. Turning and stretching showed the bare curve of her leg sliding out from the side.

“That’s good... looks very good,” Nabiki said approvingly, then gestured for Ranma to sit back down. “Gonna put a little makeup on you, scoot over here.” She sat down in her chair, pulling out her makeup case.

“Awwww.” Ranma sighed, then sat down, forcing herself to practice doing so in ladylike manner, and scooted the stool over some to be closer in front of Nabiki. She spent the next little while having brushes run over her skin, leaving her with a faintly heavier feeling on her lips and eyelids.

“All done. Now, you get into your shoes, while I get dressed.” Nabiki made a light shooing motion, apparently not wanting to relinquish control of her readiness process. She stepped into her own black dress and pulled it up, sliding the thin straps over her shoulders. The front of the dress was a little bit like the one she’d worn on Toma’s island, but just slightly more modest, covering more of her breasts, but still falling in the same luxurious folds and with the same high slits on the sides. She slid her feet into a pair of low-heeled black pumps almost identical to the ones Ranma was wearing, then sat down to brush her own hair and apply her own makeup.

“Now, when we go out in a few minutes, I’ll go down first and distract everybody. You make sure and be quick about slipping out the front door... don’t get spotted.” Standing and kissing at her reflection, Nabiki sashayed past her redheaded sextoy. “Alright, I’m going down... when you hear me talking, that’s your cue.”

“Got it.”

Nabiki headed on down the stairs, disappearing around the bend. A moment later, her voice filtered back. “Okay, I’m leaving now!”

“What?! Wearing that?! How could you, Nabiki?!”

“Oh, daddy, come ON...”

Ranma slipped out of Nabiki’s room, glad that her practice running along fences meant that it wasn’t too hard walking in women’s shoes... even if they were low-heeled, they were a bit odd. She hurried down the stairs while Soun, Nabiki, and Kasumi were still debating the merits, or lack thereof, of Nabiki’s dress. She made it all the way to the front door before bumping into Akane, literally.

The short-haired girl stepped back, putting an arm across her chest, which was still moving slightly from impacting against Ranma’s. Akane didn’t say a word, looking Ranma up and down for long moments, before silently turning and walking away. Ranma blinked after her a few times, then just shrugged and turned, hurrying out the door.

A long black limo was indeed waiting, a uniformed man standing and holding the door open. Ranma glanced at him, then shrugged and bent down to climb in. She ‘eeeeped’ quietly as the chauffeur’s hand stroked over her ass and gave it a light slap, but just blushed lightly before turning and settling in on the seat.

A minute or so later, Nabiki slid a little more elegantly into the limo, without giving the chauffeur an opening for fondling. She slipped into place near Ranma and set her small purse down on the seat, daintily arranging her legs as the door closed. A moment later, the car started, and the subtle hum of movement surrounded them.

“Now, Ranma, what are the rules?” Nabiki said primly.

“Um... anyone that wants can feel me up if they ain’t too obvious... I fuck who ya tell me to, you tell me ‘cold’ for just a blowjob, ‘warm’ for regular sex, and ‘hot’ for any kinky thing they want.”

“Aaaand...?”

“And I keep my mouth shut unless it’s ta put food or a cock in it,” Ranma muttered a little sulkily, ducking her head and blushing slightly again.

“Perfect,” Nabiki said happily, resting her purse in her lap and giving it a confident pat. “Tonight’s the night, Saotome. Tonight, you’re going to make me as successful as I really deserve to be.”

 

 

Akane paced back and forth in her room, frustrated. She’d felt odd every time she looked at Ranma’s female form lately, like something about the redhead had changed to ensnare the raven-haired girl’s senses, draw every bit of her attention in and..

She stopped in her pacing, giving a little shiver and raising one hand to clasp it over her breast, moaning a little bit as she gave a light squeeze and a knead, rolling it in her hand. Then she yanked her head away and shook her head. ‘No, no way... I’m not gonna masturbate while thinking of Ranma’s girl form!’ Her cheeks and the bridge of her nose flushed dark red. ‘... Again.’

After a moment, Akane headed over to the closet and threw the door open, rifling through it. ‘I have to get out of this house, get my mind off of it...’ Yanking down a few hangers, she threw the clothes on the bed and yanked her shirt off, breasts giving a little bounce as they were freed from the tight cloth.

A few minutes later, she peeked around a corner downstairs, and ‘pssst’ed to get Kasumi’s attention. “Kasumi... where’s dad?”

Kasumi blinked, glancing over at her sister. “Ah... father and mister Saotome decided to go out to a bar.”

Akane nodded, then stepped around the corner, reaching down to make a smoothing motion at her skirt. She’d changed into a white formal shirt, left unbuttoned but tied just beneath her breasts, leaving it tight against her breasts and showing the valley of skin between them. Over that was a shiny plastic black jacket with glittery silver around the edges. Her skirt was also black and shiny, hugged tight against her hips and buttocks, and barely coming down to the bottom of said hips. A pair of black pumps topped it off, and she’d accessorized with some bracelets, a small black purse, and a light smear of sparkle glitter on each cheek.

“Oh my,” Kasumi murmured with another blink. “Akane, what are you wearing?”

“I’m going clubbing,” Akane said firmly, flicking her fingers through her short hair to give it a light toss.

“Ah. Alright. Well, be safe.” Kasumi looked Akane up and down for a few moments, then turned and went back into the kitchen.

‘Maybe, maybe not,’ Akane thought, a bit smugly, as she turned and headed for the door.

 

 

“This ain’t so bad, is it?” Ryoko chuckled, draping herself across the seat of the booth. The cyan-haired space pirate smirked at her companion, showing a fang, her yellow cat’s-eyes glittering. She hadn’t dressed up significantly, wearing a blue shirt with long sleeves in stripes of dark yellow and blue, and a matching long blue skirt.

“I do not see why we had to come all this way to go to a plain little bar,” Ayeka answered distastefully, eyeing her drink as if not really wanting to touch it. The purple-haired princess was dressed in her typical kimono in various shades of purple, her long ponytails done up with their usual care. She looked entirely out of place in the drab, dim confines of a working-person’s bar in a residential area.

“Becaaause, it’s neutral ground,” Ryoko answered, rolling her eyes. She drained her sake cup, then set it down to fill it again. “We’re not gonna see anyone we know or, more importantly, Tenchi. Nothing to argue about, see?”

“We could argue about your choice of establishments,” Ayeka shot back primly, though without much rancor.

“You’ll live,” the golden-eyed woman snorted. After a moment, she glanced off to the side. “... You know, I dunno what it is, but I keep lookin’ at those guys over there.”

Ayeka blinked and turned her head to follow Ryoko’s gaze. The space pirate seemed to be looking at a pair of men the same age as Tenchi’s father, one rather broad and wearing a white gi, a bandanna covering his apparently bald head, and, as if that weren’t enough, a pair of small round glasses. The other man was a bit better, thinner, taller, with long black hair and a bushy mustache, wearing a dark red gi. In fact, he reminded her a tiny bit of her father.

“THOSE men?” Ayeka said, her tone shocked. Then she realized she wasn’t looking away, either. “... Yes,” she continued, voice a bit quieter. “There is something oddly... compelling... about them.”

“Hey, c’mon...” Ryoko pushed herself up out of the booth, resting her hands on her hips, the very realistic prosthetic tail she’d decided to wear tonight flicking behind her. “Let’s go talk to ‘em. Couldn’t hurt.”

“...” Ayeka visibly waffled for a moment, various issues of propriety and snobbery warring with the odd compulsion welling up within. Finally, she sighed and slid out of the booth, standing up and running her hands along the front of her kimono to smooth it out. “Oh, very well.”

Ryoko smirked and made her way over to the small table where the two were sitting, Ayeka trailing along after her with her hands clasped lightly in front of her. Ryoko thumped a hand down on the table to make sure she had their attention, leaning forward and grinning.

“Hey, boys. My name’s Ryoko, the little priss there’s Ayeka.” She chuckled, knowing that her companion would be bristling. “How’s it goin’?”

“Good evening, girls,” the mustached one said, looking both girls up and down in a none-too-subtle appraisal. “I’m Soun Tendo, this is my good friend Genma Saotome.”

“A pleasure to meet you,” Ayeka said, feeling considerably more odd now that she was closer to both men... her breathing had quickened somewhat, and she found herself blushing a bit.

“Pretty forward, coming up to two men in a bar,” Genma drawled, turning his chair towards the girls, Soun doing the same a moment later. “A man might think you wanted something.”

Ryoko and Ayeka both looked at him in confusion... confusion because they couldn’t understand their own complete lack of desire to destroy the man for such a statement. They glanced at one another, and after a moment, Ryoko shrugged. “Well, I guess someone could think that, yeah.”

“In fact,” Genma continued, leering at Ryoko openly. “A man might think a couple of girls who did that were looking to get some cock.”

“It has been a pretty long time,” Ryoko found herself answering, her gaze drawn to the bulge in the bespectacled man’s pants.

“Interested in this, then?” Seemingly uncaring for the fact that this was a public place, and that they were far from concealed, Genma undid the drawstring of the pants and shoved the front down, his erect shaft springing free, balls falling to rest over the edge of the fabric.

“... It’s not bad,” Ryoko answered, licking her lips, considering that it did indeed seem rather larger and thicker than the glimpses of Tenchi’s she’d been able to get. She tossed a glance at Ayeka and saw that the princess was staring, her entire face flushed, lips parted a little in shock.

“You know what to do with one of these, girl?” Genma goaded lightly, raising his eyebrows.

“... Yeah, I know what to do with one,” Ryoko said huskily, stepping over in front of him and sinking down to her knees, long fingers brushing along his shaft as her tongue lolled out to swirl around the head.

“Mmm, yes, that’s right,” Genma growled, taking a gulp of his beer as Ryoko ducked her head down, lapping at his balls, sucking some of the loose skin into her mouth.

Ayeka stared incredulously, not understanding why Ryoko was doing what she was doing, or why she herself wasn’t reacting more strongly to it. In fact, she could feel that her nipples were painfully hard beneath her underthings, and that her panties were starting to cling to her with her growing dampness. She glanced around nervously, seeing that the other bar patrons, all men, were staring, some with looks of shock and bewilderment, but others smirking or leering at Ryoko on her knees... and at her...

“Quite a tongue you’ve got there,” Genma chuckled as Ryoko stroked long licks over the sides of his shaft, the long falls of hair that draped over her ears brushing along his still-covered legs, her hair tickling at his stomach. “I bet this one likes it,” he added, giving a jerk of his head towards Ayeka before taking another pull from his beer bottle.

“Mmmm, she wishes,” Ryoko answered shamelessly, with a smirk and a little growl of her own. She rolled her eyes up to watch Genma’s face as she slipped the head of his cock into her mouth and sealed her lips tight, suckling and rolling her tongue languorously.

Ayeka opened her mouth to say something in outrage, then closed it, simply shivering as an image forced its way into her head, of herself sitting in that seat with her legs parted, Ryoko’s long tongue stroking over her most private place. She watched silently as Ryoko began bobbing her head, Genma’s dirty talk turning to low groans of pleasure. The Juraian princess almost yelped as a hand took hold of her wrist and pulled her forward and to one side.

“You won’t forget me, will you?” Soun said lightly, grinning.

Ayeka stared down at Soun’s own bared cock, trembling some, but feeling whatever civilized restraints she had crumbling, eroded by something she couldn’t understand. Soun gave her wrist a light tug downward, and she rather inelegantly fell to her knees in front of him, her ponytails seeming to leap from the motion before they fell back into place. Ayeka swallowed heavily, looking at the long, thick member in front of her face, then turned her rather helpless expression up towards Soun.

“Well? Go on,” the mustached man urged lightly.

Trembling, Ayeka leaned closer, slowly closer, and finally let her tongue poke out, giving a soft, tentative lick over the underside of the head of Soun’s member.

“Ha... this one is a cocksucking virgin, Saotome,” Soun said, resting a hand on Ayeka’s head and pushing her closer encouragingly.

“Not this one,” Genma groaned, leaning his head back and closing his eyes, both hands resting on Ryoko’s head, spiky cyan hair jutting from between his fingers. The alien girl’s head was moving up and down in long, smooth motions, tilting side-to-side as she endeavored to stroke her tongue over as much of the silky skin of his shaft as she could. Genma moaned, shuddering at the feel of her fangs ever-so-lightly brushing along the sides of his cock, not enough to scrape him, but just enough to provide a new and thrillingly dangerous sensation.

“Come on, now, keep licking,” Soun encouraged as Ayeka continued giving his shaft tiny, almost kittenish licks. “You can do better than that.” He pushed her head downwards, aiming her tongue and lips at his balls.

Ayeka fought the urge to whimper as she dragged her tongue over one of Soun’s balls, then let it slip into her mouth, the princess’ tongue continuing to inexpertly stroke over it as she suckled lightly. She could still feel all those lecherous eyes on her, watching her as she performed this despicable act with a man she didn’t know, right in front of them all, as if it were some disgusting back room sex show for them all.

Ryoko smirked around the length of dick stroking in and out of her lips, managing to watch Ayeka out of the corner of her eye. Yeah, the snotty little busybody definitely looked good on her knees and sucking some guy off. Speaking of which, she had things to do! She let her lips slacken up a bit, allowing long slurping sounds to emanate with each stroke of her head up and down along his length, little rivulets of saliva trickling down his shaft.

“Yeeaaaah, that’s right, slut, earn your big drink of cum,” Genma groaned, voice still carrying that slight hint of a growl.

“I’m tired of waiting,” Soun announced almost idly, tightening his fingers in Ayeka’s hair and yanking her head up with a yelp, then pushing his cock steadily into her mouth, the princess almost gagging as it pushed her throat open, but somehow managing to take it all in, her nose tickled by the coarse hair at his crotch as her lips pressed around his root. The mustached man put his hands on the sides of her head, forcing it up and down, quite flagrantly fucking her mouth, using her to get himself off. And the damnedest thing was, Ayeka could feel herself getting extremely turned on by it, starting to give little moans around his plunging cock, her inner thighs damp beneath the concealing folds of her kimono.

Ryoko’s only immediate warning was a loud grunt before Genma started gushing in her mouth. She raised her head back up and sealed her lips just under the head of his cock in an almost vacuum-seal, swallowing and gulping repeatedly at the thick spurts of cum splashing across her tongue. She gave a low purr-like sound, looking up at his face again, and felt his cock jump against her lips and give a few more gushes, even thicker and harder than before.

Ayeka rested her hands on Soun’s thighs as he kept shoving his cock past her lips, using her mouth, her whimpers of humiliation and guilty arousal seeming to spur him on incredibly. It was only a few more moments before she felt his shaft throb and actually swell slightly in her mouth, before he suddenly yanked back, grabbing her hair with one hand to hold her in position and wildly pumping himself with the other. In less than a second, long spurts of cum began flying forth, and Ayeka quickly closed her eyes. But she could feel the hot splashes on her equally hot cheeks, her bangs feeling heavy with thick gobs of cum... and she could still feel all those stares, those leers, shaming her... exciting her...

 

 

Naru Narusegawa, eighteen, recently admitted to Tokyo University, sighed, sinking down low in the steaming mineral water, her breasts lightly bobbling on the water’s surface. She let her eyes closed, trying to allow the hot spring to leech away her constant anxiety over her grades and schoolwork. Her long auburn hair rested against the smooth stone behind her, the two long ‘antennae’ of hair strands jutting out in front of her face looking rather droopy, as if indicative of her attempt to relax.

Close at hand was her slightly younger friend, Motoko Aoyama, the kendoist also settled low in the water, all the way up to her chin, dark charcoal-colored hair drifting lightly through the water around her. Her eyes, too, were closed, but she seemed much more composed about it, as if meditating instead of simply relaxing.

“Heeey!” Another of Naru’s friends, Mitsune Konno, waded through the hip-high water, coming to stand in front of the other two. Her voluptuous, damp, naked body gleamed lightly in the light from the inn nearby, short, sandy hair still mostly dry, save for the very tips in places. Mitsune looked like she perhaps worked out a little less than she should, but the extra pound or... several... had simply layered onto the curves she already had, making them a bit more supple, without actually giving the impression of being overweight. “Are we just gonna sit around all night? I thought we were gonna drink, too! A hot spring’s no good if you don’t drink sake to go with it?”

“I have no need of sake to enjoy the hot spring,” Motoko replied solemnly, not opening her eyes.

“Kitsuneee,” Naru said, with the barest hint of a whine, peeking one dark brown eye open a bit. “I can’t drink, I need to go back to studying once I get out.”

“Naru needs to study, what a surprise,” Kitsune drawled, folding her arms over her rather generous chest, frown given a bit more weight by her near-constantly closed eyes. “You know, you’ve already ruined your eyes with all your studying. Pretty soon your body’s gonna waste away from not being used in all the ways that a young woman’s body should be!”

“K-Kitsune!” Naru squeaked, blushing brightly and sinking up to her nose in the spring. Motoko opened one eye to look over, as well, a light blush of her own coloring the bridge of her nose.

“Well, it’s your own fault!” Kitsune scolded playfully, grinning now. She leaned forward to look at Naru, breasts swaying with the movement. “You haven’t paid me even a tiny bit of attention since you started pre-testing for the Toudai exams...” She shook a finger at her embarrassed friend, then smirked broadly, resting the finger against her cheek. “Or is it since Keitaro arrived?”

“Like I’d ever be distracted by a loser like him,” Naru muttered sulkily, her words muffled and bubbly from her mouth being just under the surface of the water.

“Indeed, even the mention of the ronin’s name is an insult in the women’s baths,” Motoko affirmed, nodding solemnly.

Kitsune started to tease again, but held off, smirk fading to a confused look at a rustle from the bushes. The other two girls blinked their eyes open, turning and moving to stand beside Kitsune, all three of them peering curiously at the foliage. And all three shrieked as a definitely very masculine form staggered out of them and fell into the water. However, two shrieks immediately turned to those of outrage.

“KEEEEITAAAAAROOOOOO!” Naru howled, rushing over to one side and bringing up a fist.

“KIIIIIIIIISAAAAAMAAAAA!” Motoko roared, whipping her sheathed sword from seemingly nowhere and almost teleporting across from Naru, raising the weapon.

“Whoa, whoa, guys!” Kitsune quickly splashed her way over, waving her hands. “Wait!”

More surprised by Kitsune’s attempt to defend the boy, both paused in mid-downswing, looking over at the sandy blonde in astonishment.

“First thing,” Kitsune stated authoritatively as she came to stand nearby, resting one fist on her hip and holding her other hand out in front of her, a single finger raised. “That isn’t Keitaro.”

“Ehhh?” Naru blinked and looked at the face-down young man, taking in the tattered, sleeveless yellow shirt, black pants, and ballet-like yellow slippers, as well as the darker hair and the yellow and black bandanna.

“It isn’t the kisama after all,” Motoko murmured, too amazed by the fact that, for once, it wasn’t Keitaro stumbling into the baths, to be all that angry about there being a boy there period.

“Second,” Kitsune said, still with great ceremony, as she raised another finger. “He seems to be in enough trouble as it is.”

All three of them were perfectly silent and still for long moments, until single bubble drifted up to one side of Ryoga’s head and popped.

“AAAACK! Quick, quick, get him out of the water before he drowns!” Naru yelped, flailing her arms wildly for a moment before grabbing one of Ryoga’s shoulders, the other two hurrying to do much the same. After a bit of struggling with his limp body, the three of them managed to haul him out of the water and get him laying on his back on the stone-paved area between the hot springs and the laundry room.

“Who is this guy?” Kitsune huffed, looking the drenched and unconscious Ryoga up and down. It took only moments for the curious and mildly annoyed look to turn into a grin. “Heeeey, he’s cute.”

“Huh?” Naru looked oddly at her friend, then back down at the lost boy. “W-well... yeah, he is, kinda.”

“...” Motoko was silent for a moment, a slow blush building on her cheeks and the bridge of her nose. “... Perhaps we should not leave him in those wet clothes... he could catch... pneumonia.”

“Yeah... pneumonia,” Naru echoed, starting to blush, herself.

The curse had learned well... the more ki it had to work with, the stronger an aura of attraction it could generate, breaking down the barriers of those it had not yet ‘infected’ all the quicker. Ryoga’s ki was exceptionally strong, and, unlike Ranma, the fact that his gender remained constant between forms had allowed the curse to integrate itself more and more fully into him.

Of course, the trio of Hinatasou girls knew none of this as they pulled off his shirt and undid his shoes. Kitsune didn’t bother to hide her smirk as she tucked her fingers into the waistband of his pants and yanked them down, Ryoga giving an unconscious groan as his hard cock fell free and slapped lightly against his stomach. Naru got down on her knees on one side of him, while Motoko kneeled on his other side, Mitsune straddling his legs.

“Whoa,” Naru whispered, blushing even brighter. Ryoga’s cock wasn’t exactly huge (though it was actually longer and thicker than it had been before his encounter with Ranma), but this was the first time Naru had actually just been able to look at one from so close.

“It’s... very odd-looking, isn’t it?” Motoko murmured, wrinkling her nose a bit.

“Eh, it’s a weird-lookin’ piece of equipment on any guy,” Kitsune snorted, grinning and giving Ryoga’s hard shaft a light poke with one finger. “It either looks like a snake wearing a sweater or a snail wearing a helmet.” She blushed a bit herself, though, as that slight poke was enough to send a small dribble of precum dripping onto the toned contours of Ryoga’s stomach. She grinned again, though, and leaned forward, whispering conspiratorially to the other two. “They’re fun to suck on, though.”

“... Howso?” Motoko answered dubiously, glancing from her friend to Ryoga’s cock, as if wondering how sucking on it could give her anything other than a sore jaw.

Kitsune made a long-suffering face at Motoko, grabbing Ryoga’s shaft and stroking it as if to punctuate her words, making the unconscious boy groan lowly. “Well it’s not like it tastes like a gumdrop or something!” She slowed down her stroking, and smirked, though she was still blushing. “It’s the act itself, yanno...”

“... The act...?” Naru prompted in a whisper, her eyes not leaving Kitsune’s hand and what it was stroking.

“Yeah! Because you’re doing something naugh-ty,” the sandy blonde sing-songed. Then she held up the index finger of her free hand. “BUT! Not SO naughty that it really turns you off or makes you have to think all the time about doing something naughty!” Then she cleared her throat. “Plus, you’re in control... you’re toootally responsible for his pleasure... and all you gotta do...” She leaned down slowly. “... is this.” And she immediately dipped down, slipping the head of Ryoga’s cock into her mouth and closing her lips around it, a few quiet suckling sounds heard almost immediately, as well as another faint groan from Ryoga.

“K-Kitsune!” Naru protested faintly.

But her friend didn’t pay her any attention, just starting to bob her head slowly, lips fastened in a tight seal whenever she rose up, and opening slightly every time she moved down on him, allowing a few louder sucks to be heard. The other two girls watched in astonishment, but both had to admit, Kitsune certainly seemed to be enjoying herself. In only a few minutes, she had swallowed him all the way to the base, her lips pressing around the root of his shaft.

After that, though, Kitsune raised her head up more, coughing just a bit and licking her lips. “Been awhile since I did that.” She gave her head a shake, her short, damp hair flicking about. “But that was great... been a LONG time since I deep-throated such a big guy! C’mon, Naru, you suck on him now!”

“ME?! No way!” Naru protested, shaking her head quickly in denial, her “antennae” bobbing.

“Oh, c’mon,” Mitsune wheedled, smirking impishly. “You know you wanna.”

Naru bit her lower lip, glancing down at Ryoga’s glistening member. For some reason... she did want to. Without noticing she was doing it, she began very, very slowly lowering her head, looking at it closer and closer. She only noticed how close she’d gotten when she actually bumped her nose against it, causing her to squeak in embarrassment and blush brightly.

“Go ooooon,” Kitsune urged quietly, grinning like the devil urging someone to sign their contract on the infernally dotted line.

Naru swallowed audibly, then stuck her tongue out and gave Ryoga’s shaft a tiny, tentative lick. When her tongue didn’t shrivel up and fall off, she tried a second, somewhat longer lick. She almost jumped at a louder groan from Ryoga, but went ahead and dipped her head lower, taking just the tip of the boy’s cock into her mouth and sucking lightly at it.

“Suck it some more... go on!” Kitsune urged again.

“Mmph!” Naru gave her friend a brief annoyed look, then slid herself lower, letting more of Ryoga’s cock slide into her mouth, her tongue stroking at it uncertainly. But Kitsune had been right... it really was naughty, and it sent a little thrill through her. Starting to get a feel for the motion, she began bobbing her head, getting a bit more of him in with every downward stroke.

“You to, Motoko.”

“Wh-what?” The kendoist blushed brightly, looking as if she might bolt. “But...”

“No buts! If Naru can do it, you can! Get down there and lick the part of his shaft she hasn’t got in her mouth!”

Uneasy, Motoko nevertheless bent down and began lightly tracing her tongue over Ryoga’s prick where Naru wasn’t already sucking on it. With a grin, Kitsune scooted herself around and bent down, her body brushing along Ryoga’s as she leaned in to lick and suck at one of the bandannaed boy’s balls.

Ryoga grunted as he finally began to come around, and almost on instinct, he raised his hands, one finding Motoko’s ass and resting on it, giving it a squeeze, the other settling on Kitsune’s crotch and sliding his middle finger up inside her, starting to stroke it slowly. Motoko jumped slightly, starting to pull away, but feeling herself inexplicably held in place; Kitsune simply mmmmed in pleasure, wiggling her hips lightly. Naru pulled her head up, turning back to licking instead of sucking, and flushed anew as her tongue brushed over Motoko’s.

Ryoga continued to knead Motoko’s buttock and stroke his finger into Kitsune, at the same time working his hips lightly up and down, feeling the three beautiful girls’ mouths working on him. As he came more awake and raised his head somewhat, catching sight of just what they looked like, his cock gave a powerful throb, seeming to almost grow a little.

Kitsune let Ryoga’s ball slip out of her mouth and raised her head slightly, practically purring as the boy pushed a second finger into her pussy. She too began licking over his shaft, freely passing her tongue over those of the other girls, and occasionally seeking said contact out. Ryoga’s cock seemed to be throbbing harder and harder, and the girls began to lick him more fervently, stroking their tongues over his length and teasing at the head.

Finally, Ryoga gave a long grunt and thrust his hips up, beginning to spray long gushes of cum up into the air, to fall over Motoko, Kitsune, and Naru’s faces, the girls closing their eyes as the streamers of hot white jism fell over their cheeks and hair. In moments, all three had been nicely painted with his seed, Naru and Motoko panting, Kitsune grinning like a cat that had just caught a mouse. After a moment, the sandy blonde reached over and licked several large globs of cum from Naru’s cheeks, causing the girl to blush even darker. But after a moment, she turned and began doing the same for Motoko, who gasped loudly, a fresh trickle of arousal running down her inner thighs.

“You,” Ryoga growled, putting his hands on Kitsune’s ass and pushing her forward, the other two hurrying out of the way. Kitsune eagerly slid forward and then straightened up as she got her feet under her, letting herself be pulled down by Ryoga’s strong hands. Ryoga’s slick cockhead came to rest against the blonde’s slit, and then slid up inside of her smoothly as he pulled her down.

“Oooo, yeah, you’re big,” Kitsune squealed happily, settling down quickly, feeling herself get spread wide by Ryoga’s prick. She settled down fully after just a few seconds, her full ass pressing against his hips, then began riding him quickly, her large tits bouncing easily. “Ooo! Fuck! Fuck me!”

“Nnng,” Ryoga grunted in reply, starting to thrust up into Kitsune, feeling her buttocks slapping against him. He pulled her down against him as well, wanting to shove his prick as deep into her hot pussy as he could get it.

Naru and Motoko simply watched, with wide eyes, sitting back with their legs slightly akimbo. Slowly, moving almost in unison, both of them tucked hands between their legs and began to stroke themselves, slim fingers stroking over pink slits and brushing lightly over hard little nubs. Naru began working her hips lightly towards the stroking of her own fingers, her ass pressing against the stone ground every time she worked herself downward.

Kitsune let her head droop backwards, her mouth hanging open as she moaned and gasped, raising one hand up to grab one of her breasts and knead it, the other still bouncing and swaying with her motions. “Yeah, nnnnn,” she grunted, feeling the little ripples that went through the supple flesh of her ass every time it slapped down against Ryoga. After only a few more minutes, she thrust her hands down to grab Ryoga’s forearms, scratching him as she came, crying out loudly and arching her back.

Ryoga continued to thrust up into Kitsune for a few more moments, using his hands to help move her, then shoved deep up into her and gushing cum inside her. After savoring the feeling for a moment, he gently pushed her off and to the side, leaving her to slump in a contented heap on her side, her pussy leaking a few dribbles of creamy white. Moving forward, Ryoga grabbed Naru’s legs and hauled them up, tilting the girl onto her back with a loud squeal. “H-hey!”

The dark-haired boy leg go of one of Naru’s legs, and she tucked it lightly around him out of reflex. He let her other leg rest along his chest and held it there, then guided his cock to her opening, starting to push in.

“W-wait, I... ah...” Naru twisted her upper body, lightly scratching at the stone as she felt her pussy being spread wide by the entry of Ryoga’s cock. It hurt a little, but more than anything, it felt... amazing, like it was sending some sort of erotic energy rushing through her entire body. She glanced up, saw that Motoko was watching her, was still stroking her pussy to the sight.

Ryoga settled fully inside Naru, hissing at how tight she was. He began thrusting into her, slow but forceful strokes that shook her entire body, making her breasts jiggle within the confines of how she held her arms. Naru cried out a little with every thrusts, closing her eyes and angling her head, her mouth hanging open, breath almost visible in the night air. Ryoga’s thrusts made soft, wet sounds as his thick cock slid into her dripping sex, his balls pressing against the meeting of her thigh and buttock from the angle she was turned at.

Naru’s cries got slowly and steadily louder, her “antennae” bobbing in time with the slow but powerful fucking she was receiving. Her cries turned to quiet little screams as Ryoga pressed a hand over the soft, curly hair of her crotch and began stroking her clit with two fingers. She tossed her head back, suddenly going silent, her mouth wide as she came, her pussy squeezing around Ryoga’s cock. But he didn’t stop, continuing to pound away at her, pushing her climax higher and longer, until he finally pulled out and gave himself a few quick strokes, sending long splashes of cum over her stomach. Every wet impact felt like a new little burst of pleasure, and Naru quivered, finding her voice again with a low mewling.

Motoko’s eyes widened as Ryoga turned to her, and she scrambled backwards a little as he came closer. She yelped some as he put his hands on her waist and lifted her easily up, moving her around and setting her on her knees in front of Naru, who was just sitting up, still seeming a bit woozy. Ryoga pushed Motoko forward, and the charcoal-haired girl quickly wrapped her arms around Naru’s middle, their breasts pressing together as Ryoga settled himself into place.

“AAAAA!” Motoko threw her head back, crying out loudly, her eyes wide as Ryoga slammed into her in a single thrust and began slamming into her hard and fast, his hips slapping against her ass. His pounding pressed her against Naru, who quickly put her arms around Motoko, holding the other girl steady as she was fucked. Panting and gasping, Motoko pressed her face against the nape of Naru’s neck as Ryoga’s prick slammed home inside her. “Ah! Ah! N-Naru-sempaaaiiii!”

Naru gulped audibly as she watched her friend get fucked, and felt the other girl get pressed against her, their hard nipples rubbing over one another. Ryoga was grunting like an animal as he pounded away at Motoko, his balls slapping against her clit, the proud kendoist clinging to Naru, whimpering and gasping as she was taken.

Ryoga leaned forward, tongue hanging out a bit as he continued to pound into Motoko, and then gave a long “nnnnnng” as he let go his first gush of cum inside her. He quickly pulled out, leaving her pussy trying to clasp around nothing as he stroked himself again, spraying his load over the curves of her trim ass. More than anything, it was that sensation that pushed Motoko over the edge, and she wailed as she came, squeezing her arms around Naru and trembling against the older girl.

The fanged boy finally fell back to sit, panting a little, cock softening slightly but not going limp. He turned his head as Mitsune crawled over on all fours and tugged on Motoko, pulling the other girl down on her side and starting to lick at her dripping pussy, pink tongue stroking over pink flesh. Motoko whimpered, then grabbed at Naru’s hips and almost desperately pulled them closer, starting to do much the same for her beloved sempai. Naru yelped in surprise, then groaned, slowly sinking down to rest her head on Kitsune’s thigh. After a few moments just basking in the attention from Motoko’s tongue stroking over her and into her, Naru scooted forward slightly and began lapping at Mitsune’s waiting sex, tasting not a little of Ryoga’s cum still within her.

Ryoga stared at the little triangle of sapphism for long minutes, listening to muffled moans and cute little whimpers, as well as the wet lapping sounds. After a few moments, he stood up a little unsteadily, and looked down at them. He considered sticking around to watch, and participate some more, but despite the fact that he’d come in each of them and once before that, he still wasn’t feeling any less lustful in the least. He’d best just continue on to find Ranma. Staggering away, he grabbed his backpack and wandered away, still naked for the moment.

 

Ranma stared around as she and Nabiki walked through the front door of the palatial mansion the limo had deposited them at. The room was huge and mostly open, with a large number of well-dressed people milling about, chatting to one another, or just standing around and doing their best to look affluent. She glanced aside at Nabiki, and was not at all surprised to find that her “owner” looked completely at home here, snagging a champagne flute from a passing servitor’s tray with a graceful sweep of one hand.

“So, looking forward to sucking a bunch of rich old cock and licking a bunch of rich old pussy?” Nabiki murmured, smirking wickedly.

“Like you wouldn’t believe,” Ranma muttered sarcastically, rolling her eyes.