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On the Other Side – Part II

Yup. Still here.

Coen let his eyelids flutter open and shut. The vision never changed, no matter how many times he did. He kept thinking if he did it enough times, he’d wake up home, in his bed, or back at the museum. His friends would pick him up, laugh at him for passing out on a trip and things would go back to normal. But that wasn’t the case. This vision was real.

He pushed himself up, rubbing his head. Huh. Two days now. Two days since he wandered into whatever the hell all this was. Ah, well, he wasn’t totally oblivious. By his recollection, he was in in Feudal Japan, as insane as the concept sounded in his mind. He was staring at a painting of an old Temple, maybe for too long, and then this. Drawn through literal time and space, spat back into an ancient time. It couldn’t nor shouldn’t be possible, and yet here he was. Every time he woke it never changed.

Well, he could spend an eternity trying to sort it all out, but to what end? Besides, that wasn’t even the strangest part. Oh, you’d think getting drawn into a literal time painting would be up there as “odd things that happened to me,” but no. There was Seishin. Ward and guardian of the temple he currently resided at, a magnificent kitsune of stunning orange-red fur and multiple mystic tails, a specimen of ample features and curvy dimensions. She was also uh, larger than him. Much larger. He wasn’t good on estimates, but it was about, say, three of him stacked? So about sixteen feet or go? God almighty.

And. . . naturally. . . she bedded him. That was always the end result, right? A perfectly comprehensive conclusion, h-hah. Hah. Yeah. He didn’t regret it, not at all, but it wasn’t what he expected. Like all of this. Nothing seemed to fall into place.

Oh well. No use in fighting destiny now. He was sure now that he was forever trapped in this pocket of time. Seishin, the keeper, wasn’t just a spirit wanderer came to pray too, she was also a mystic entity, magical in nature. If there was anyone who could figure out dimensional shenanigans, it was her, and yet she seemed flummoxed too. What, then, was Coen to do? Wander off by his lonesome? He didn’t know the surrounding lands and god knew somebody of his character would probably be met with leery eyes, were he to even attempt travel. No, alas, he was stuck for now. A good kinda stuck, but still.

Leaving the bed, he tried to push the thoughts aside with some focused work. Seishin was kind enough to look after him (among things) so he at least wanted to lend a hand where he could. That was hard, considering how large most things were around him, but, he tried. Bonus, at least, he got free range of Seishin’s kitchen, which at least had some cookware suited for his size. Apparently in her earlier times, attendants and monks would prepare food for wanderers, themselves, and fashion honorary meals for the kitsune. This translated to a whole slew of ingredients and things he could experiment with, although he had no ability to read the ancient Kanji and Hiragana for recipes.

Beyond that, other work was fairly mundane. Polishing statues, sweeping, and picking weeds away from the stone steps. It felt nice to do something. Though, it lost its appeal rather quickly. Knowing the age he’d come from – one bound and saturated with electric content – it was surprising how much time he spent “living” in screens. So much small time blurred between multimedia. It meant now he had hours to ponder, and if he had time to think, it was spent on his situation. Brr.

The only other thing was Seishin. Brr. Boy, it was hard not to ogle her. She was already a curvaceous lass, with wide hips and full, fat bottom that wiggled with every step. Her front, too, was equally perky, often pushing through her slim robe without much issue. And, the foxy-qualities she possessed only made her that much more exotic. He knew some Hybrid girls back home, and well, gosh dang, they were all scrumptious for the eyes, adding to his overall appreciation of Seishin.

He chastised himself though. Come on now, she was a holy lady! Er, kinda. Yes, he humped her while she was on all fours but that didn’t mean he could just think lewd all the time. Right?

It didn’t help, at all, that Seishin appeared to be the type that liked to indulge in holy wines. Not like there was much need for them now, the Temple saw no service (or any trace of a visitor at all for that matter). But, it meant she enjoyed consuming vast quantities of it, and it seemed her reservoir was boundless. In the few days he was here, it wasn’t uncommon for Seishin to have a gentle rose color flushing her cheeks, her eyes a touch watery. She loved to lounge and loved to watch Coen go about his working business. Always watching, thinking. But of what? Well. . .

Coen didn’t want to chance another go with the large kitsune. Or not yet, the heat of the moment was precisely that. He was too confused by his current predicament, and if he did it again, bah, his desire to get back would fade more. He didn’t know what he thought about his “life,” and a drunk, half naked vixen trying to lure him back to her bed didn’t assist in that equation.

He spent the afternoon attending to chores and things to keep himself preoccupied. Unfortunately, while his surroundings were both beautiful and rustic, there wasn’t a whole lot to do. Usually you could bury yourself in distractions and “stream the day away.” But now there was time, time to think, and if he was thinking he was only dwelling on his current predicament. Not a good mix.

He sat on the edge of the shrine’s stone steps, all the way at the top, casing his gaze to the horizon. The forest below sprawled on like an infinite pattern of green giving way to mist and nature. No sign of civilization out there, unfortunately. And, if there was – like a village or town – it was too risky. The fact that he was displaced by time and space was already concerning enough.

A peach, gold light sticking to violet hues mixed into the sky, the far sun slowly descending. Huh. Was that his sun, or an alien one? Was he in the same world? Was this a fraction of time? God, it made his head swim, he was really not ready for this. A big titted vix only added to the conundrum.

He let his eyes trail to the distant feet of the shrine, a fair fifty yards down at least. He blinked, rubbing his eyes. He was getting tired already, the shadows were moving.

Hang on, the shadows were moving?

Coen stood with a start, broom falling to his ankle. Nope, he wasn’t going crazy, a figure was moving. Like a shadow. Was that bad? He glanced behind him, thinking to call Seishin. Before he could open his mouth, however, the “figure” was upon him, quick as death, silent as night. He felt a breeze as the wind gently shifted and behold, there above was. . .

Oh god, another one!?

Did he miss the memo where ancient Japan was filled with tall, busty vixens? Or rather, of proportions similar to Seishin. He assumed the majestic entity possessed such size because she was, well, mystic. But, no, what stood over him was another foxy female, one carrying height of at least fifteen feet, her curvaceous frame shrouded in dark attire, shimmering with hints of violet at the touch of the evening sunlight. A hood adorned her head and a distinct snowy-white fur covered her frame, piercing purple eyes staring down at him. Uh oh. Was he gonna’ die?

“Uh. . .”

Coen craned his neck upwards, immobile. He was powerless (again) to do much of anything, at a loss. He thought to run or call for Seishin, but would that save him? Probably not. She could punt him across the shrine for all he knew.

The vixen tilted her head. Then, her features stretched with an amused smile. “Hello? That’s not very clever, is it?”

He blinked. She could speak English too?”

“Uh. . . e-er. . .”

A laugh. “And neither is that.”

Her tail – no, tails ­­– swished about, all six of them, much like Seishin had. A hand went to hip and she cast her gaze about the shrine, pulling hood off, ears perked. Her nose flared and she rumbled with a foxy purr.

“You’re an attendant of this holy place, yes?”

Coen didn’t know what to say. He wasn’t dead, that was a start. “Ahhhhh. . .”

Well, best to play along. Technically he sort of was? “Yeah, um, I guess. I’m Coen.”

The vixen – or kitsune – glanced back down. “You’re not from around here.”

“Huh?”

She leaned, hands to knees, where the supple curve of her weighty bust pushed into Coen’s view. She took a sniff, drinking his scent, musing.

“No, certainly not,” the kitsune went on. “From a place far away. . . very far.”

She gestured to the shrine. “In service of holy matters, I’m guessing?”

Coen did his best not to stare, taking a step back. “Huh? Wha- oh, uh, not exactly, I mean sort of but, no. Well.” Shit, what was he even trying to say?

“I just help around,” he finally said. “Not really uh, a student, or whatever. If you want that I could get Seishin?”

The kitsune straightened herself, eyes widening. “Ohhhh? I thought I smelled another one. So, it’s not just you. Tah, a pity. . .”

She winked. “I thought I’d get the cute one all to myself.”

Coen’s throat caught. “W-what?”

The newcomer cackled with predatory laughter. “Oh nothing, nothing, little morsel. So, you’re only in service, where is the shrine-keeper? I’m looking for sanctuary, you see.”

She looked behind her. “I won’t bore you with the drab and dramatic, but let’s say I need solace for a while. Surely, you wouldn’t turn away a soul in trouble?”

Who was Coen to deny her? Not like he had any business being here, anyway. Besides, this was more Seishin’s specialty, so he obliged.

“Ah, sure. No problem. Um, just follow me, I guess?”

No holy words to spare, eh? Ah well. He cleared his throat, grabbing the broom and heading back into the shrine, past the massive scarlet arches. The newcomer followed, her steps light as silk despite her size, and Coen had to glance back to check if she was still there. Once inside, they were bathed in the golden light of lit candles, surrounded by the various statues of divine figures – Seishin’s metallic bust included. Though Coen didn’t see, the kitsune’s eyes widened, chops licking as she gazed across the sections of gold.

“Uhh, hello?” Coen called out.

For a while, there was no sound, save for the distant, muffled creaking of wood and scurrying of rodents. But soon, a shuffling of feet was audible, and Seishin emerged soon after, her cleavage spilling free of her loose robe, cheeks gentle and flush. Drinking the holy wine again, no doubt.

“Ahh, little one, what is it?” she said, yawning, strutting towards the entrance. “Was dreaming as I usually do and. . .”

Her eyes snapped to the newcomer. “Oh.”

A moment of still hesitation choked the room. Coen looked between the two, uncertain. Uh, was this gonna end badly? Seishin found him amusing no doubt because he was literally smaller than her and posed no threat. But another kitsune?

The newcomer broke the tension with a humble bow. “Oh, please excuse me, your greatness. I’ve wandered here, a lost and lonely soul, seeking refuge.”

Seishin tilted her head, watery, alcohol laden eyes blinking. “Greatness? Oh, hohohoho, what a thing to be called. Coen, did you hear that? From now on, you must call me ‘greatness.’”

Coen gave a weak chuckle. The other kitsune flushed.

“Ah, well, begging your forgiveness, I do-”

Seishin raised a hand. “Dispense with all that, would you? A wandering kitsune like yourself I suspect is as mannered as a drunk ogre. No need to hide yourself my dear, I see right through it.”

The newcomer stepped backed. “W-what!?”

“You’re another lonely wanderer, nothing more. You don’t need to pretend. My shrine is open to all those in need.”

“Oh.” A relaxed sigh. “Well. . . thank you.”

“Don’t thank us,” said Seishin. “Tell us your name.”

An air of hesitation followed after, where the white furred kitsune glanced around, as if expecting a foe or an ambush. Seishin noticed.

“Well?”

A nervous chuckle. “Yes, yes, of course. Shizuka, you gre- er, miss.”

Seishin studied the newcomer. “A title? Fascinating.”

Coen, of course, didn’t recognize the name or what it meant, but no doubt Seishin was quite familiar. She leaned, resting arm on hip, giving this Shizuka an extensive once over.

“Hmm, well. . . ‘Shizuka,’ you’re welcome to stay here. This is a sanctum for troubled souls, and something tells me you’re quite troubled.”

Shizuka forced a smile. “Why thank you, you’re most kind.”

Coen found himself shuffling closer to Seishin. It was a strange thing to see to mystical creatures of this size carry on like this, casual conversation and all. There was, also, something rather off about the newcomer, this Shizuka. She was light of foot and carried an aura of mischief, and he noticed her eyes darted about the shrine, searching. But for what? Her gaze lingered on the golden fineries and statues, and he had to wonder what her plan was, if anything. A wandering, troubled soul? Really now? He didn’t know about this.

Hah, funny, why did he care, anyway? He was feeling rather protective of this realm he wanted to escape from, now wasn’t he?

Here, Shizuka drew her eyes down, upon him, and her smiled grew. “Oh, I almost forgot, who’s this little morsel?”

He drew back. Morsel!?

Seishin laughed. “Ahhh, him? Oh, this is my dutiful attendant, Coen. A blessing from the sky, he is. Like you, a wanderer, but from a place quite far away.”

Coen blinked. “Uhhh. . .” He wasn’t so sure he wanted to be ‘known’ by this other large kitsune.

Seishin only laughed. “Oh, come now, Coen, don’t be shy. We owe it to our guest to be friendly.”

Shizuka seemed to ease, tension falling from her frame. “Ah, I understand. You certainly aren’t from here. I don’t recognize your scent or your clothes. Are you from offshore?”

Coen cleared his throat. “That’s one way to put it.”

A laugh from the spirit. “How coy! Don’t mind him, he’s getting used to this place. I eased him into it, you know. Between you and I, traveler, he makes a wonderful bedmate.”

Coen flushed. “H-hey!”

Shizuka tilted her head, still leaning. Unfortunately for Coen, even with her attire he could make out the ample, busty cleavage of the new kitsune. Of course, because of her size, it was fantastically large, and more of those thoughts stirred inside his head. Brr.

“Hmm, does he now? Cute.”

He drew back. “Can I go. . . uh, sweep something?”

Seishin’s head wobbled with laughter. “So shy, so shy. Coen, perhaps we should prepare some food for our new guest?”

He blinked. “You want me to cook? That’s a lot!”

Shizuka straightened herself. “Oh, please, don’t fuss over me, I don’t need. . .”

“Nonsense!” interjected the spirit. “I’ll help! Oh, there will be much food, and wine! So much wine!”

Coen grumbled, conceding. Not like he could say no. It would, at least, give him something to do and he liked Seishin enough. But this Shizuka, he just didn’t trust her, not yet. Maybe he was judgmental? Wait, what was he saying! He was in a different pocket of time! He had every right to judge!

Bah. If there was trouble, certainly Seishin could handle it. Right? Ah, so he hoped.

“I’d be most honored,” said Shizuka. “I haven’t eaten a good meal in, well. . . I don’t remember when!”

“Settled it is then,” chimed Seishin. “Coen, if you please. . .” She gestured with finger for him to follow. He shrugged. He set aside his broom, following along, glancing behind to gaze at the newcomer.

“Find yourself somewhere to relax,” said Seishin as she waltzed off with her human companion. “Dinner in a while!”

-*-

Coen gawked, because that was all he could usually do in the presence of his new caretaker. Seishi, of course, wasn’t the type to do something normally. No, no, the enormous kitsune wasn’t going to cook as is, she had to cook in a robe apron, and just a robed apron. She stripped out of her attire, bouncy cleavage and all before adorning herself with the pale white cloth. This pushed out her, fat, supple rump, hidden cleft visible with her motions, her weighty, heavy bosom barely held together by her choice of “attire.”

She, of course, was better suited to the kitchen’s size, gathering ingredients and all (sporting some terrifying meat cleavers the size of Coen). The boy was helpless to watch, face going red. Oh, why did she always have to do this!?

“Nice soul,” hummed Seishin, pulling out flanks of exotic fauna chops. “It’s been so long since I’ve had guests. Ahh, I wonder where she hails from?”

As she pranced about, there were several times where the kitsune nearly stepped and tripped on the poor kid. God, he really had to remember how much she had on him in terms of size. Twice he had to shuffle out of the way!

“I guess so,” he muttered, staring while she worked. He couldn’t help it. Her plump breasts jiggled about with every stride of her legs and her hips danced in quick sashays with her motions. Was she doing that on purpose? She had to be. That, or she didn’t care.

It had to be the latter, because several times the kitsune bent over to push out her plum, curvaceous rear, hinting at the hidden cleft. He shivered. It wasn’t unpleasant to look at, not at all, but damn, he had to keep himself under control here, especially with a new “person” lurking about. And, he wasn’t sure what to think about said new person. Sure, Seishin was a holy mistress (or claimed to be at least), open to anyone looking for refuge, but where Coen came from? Never was a bad thing to not be immediately trusting.

“Oh, why all the frowns, little one?” Seishin said, pulling free a large skillet and slicing through cuts of vegetable. “Still troubled by your predicament?”

Well, of course he was.

“Ah, not exactly,” he said, watching. He couldn’t do much else as the kitsune tossed her hips, a light sizzle emanating from the pan.

“I mean yes that, I guess,” he continued, eyes stuck on Seishin’s tails. “But the new person, I dunno’ about them yet.”

A chuckle. “Hah! Oh, young one, full of doubts, are we? She’s a wandering soul, much like yourself. Who are we to turn a pained one in need of refuge?”

Gah, she was right. She did take him in, after all, he had no right to judge. And yet, he couldn’t shake the feeling there was something off about the newcomer. Her attire, her mannerism, quiet paw-steps. He noticed where her eyes were going, how they lingered on different things like the priceless gold objects hung around the shrine. And how’d she locate this place, anyway? He was no expert, but the Temple wasn’t exactly easy to find.

Still, he planned to be wary. It was an odd feeling, this protective instinct, but Seishin was his only source of comfort in a literal aspect of ancient history. He wouldn’t let a newcomer do her any harm.

-*-

Dinner was on a while later, and Shizuka made herself comfortable in the main foyer of the shrine, cross legged and meditative. She pulled down the hood of her dark attire, revealing the carved features of her foxy muzzle, a strange symbol emblazoned on her forehead. Coen, obviously, didn’t recognize it, and made him wonder about her origins. How likely was it to encounter two large kitsunes in the same proximity, anyway?

When he and Seishin arrived with the food, she accepted with all the grace expected of a guest. And also, someone hiding something. Coen couldn’t shake that feeling, and Seishin’s persistent reveling in intoxication didn’t help, making her oblivious and unaware.

Seishin set out a wood plate of traditional meals with an ample helping of white rice. There were thin cuts of vegetables and marinated goat meat (or, magical fauna with enough size to sate the appetite of two enormous kitsune). Wine was there too, though Coen opted for water – he wanted to keep his wits for the evening.

Here a conversation opened in brief about Shizuka’s happenstance and her history, though she was notably flighty on the subject.

“Oh, I’ve wandered for months,” she said after a bite of goat. “I kept myself as a beast, didn’t want to frighten the laborers, you see.”

Coen didn’t understand. “A beast?”

Shizuka’s gaze went to him, smirking. “Why yes. Shapeshifting. A common trait I share. And, I’m guessing you do as well, Lady Seishin?”

She laughed, waiving a hand. “I haven’t taken the ‘mystic’ approach in years! No, I must attend to the Shrine. Only magic I bother with is the little one, you see.”

Magic? Coen quirked a brow. What did that mean? He looked up to Seishin, curious. Was there something he needed to know.

Seeing his concern, Seishin continued to explain. “Oh, worry not, my helper. The water you drink, the food you sup, all made for. . . resilience. We can’t have you getting hurt, now can we?”

By this, she meant his body was enduring, that it wouldn’t break from physical encounters one might consider “arduous.” It sounded nice, but in the back of his mind, he had a feeling there was a reason for his resilience. Bed reasons.

Shizuka noticed. “Oh? Isn’t that interesting,” she said, gazing down at Coen, smirking. Uh oh.

-*-

It was late evening.

Dinner had gone well – or as well as it could go when serving a strange Kitsune. Coen didn’t know what to make of her, and he still didn’t trust her. And, unless he was crazy, he was pretty sure he saw her slip a shiny something into her pocket earlier. Or, was he seeing things? Damn, confusing, all of it.

He’d left the supper a bit early, tired from the day, leaving the two to talk. About what, he didn’t know, but he figured Seishin could handle herself. He was too exhausted with day and his predicament to give it much thought. If this Shizuka still lingered tomorrow, maybe he could bring up his concerns. But for now. . .

He didn’t even hear the door slide open. Didn’t even notice the gentle fall of footpaws as someone entered his quarters.

“I came for exotic trinkets, but I never expected something so rare as you.”

Coen spun, looking up at the smirking Shizuka. He didn’t even hear her enter his room. A pang of fear took him, considering her speed and, again, size. She was up to no good, he knew it!

“What are you doing here?” he questioned, voice flat, crossing arms.

Shizuka tilted her head. “It’s not obvious? Hah! Y’know, Seisei was telling me a lot of things about you. . .”

She leaned, hands to knees, cleavage wobbling into view. “You’ve got a big appetite for such a little morsel, don’t you? Good taste. There’s so much kitsune to enjoy, after all.”

Coen took a step back, flushing. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

She clicked her teeth. “Of course you do. Don’t have to be shy, do we? Hee, mortals, always so prudent. I see the way you look at Seishin, and I’m sure your mind begs for her pussy, yes?”

Heat and embarrassment flooded Coen. What?

“I. . .”

She waived her hand. “Ahh, but I’m getting off topic, aren’t I? You know, I came around this place looking for something of intrigue, something to please the Others, but. . . never did I imagine I’d come across you.”

She licked her chops. “Oh no!” Now, her hands went to cheeks.

“I’ve spoiled my big plan, haven’t I? Tsk tsk. I suppose I’ll have to do something to keep you from spoiling my namesake, mmm? A little secret between us? Oh, you wouldn’t turn me over if I did something for you, would you, little morsel?”

A tremor of panic took Coen, feet going cold. Oh shit. She was going to kill him, wasn’t she!? Or worse! What could he do now, cry for help? He’d caught onto her plan (or at least she blurbed about it) and, like he assumed, she was naught more than a thief!

“I don’t trust you,” Coen said. “You can’t fool me!”

Shizuka chittered with laughs, straightening. “Oh, dear morsel, if I wanted to fool you, we wouldn’t be having this conversation, now would we?”

He didn’t like that, not like how she called him morsel. Shit. Was she going to eat him? This was awful!

“I’ll get Seishin,” Coen tensed.

Another chuckle. “If you did, it would only double the fun.”

Uh. What?

Before Coen could process that little tidbit, Shizuka shuffled with her top and unfastened it from the back, allowing the dark violet cloth to fall to the ground. At once, her fat, full breasts were revealed in the dull light of Coen’s room, perky black nips teasing through the soft snowy mounds.

“Ahh, much better,” she cooed, arching her head while her palms danced under the supple front, giving them a gentle touch and squeeze. Coen gulped. He couldn’t help but stare, eyes racing over the ample cleavage, strolling down her chest and looking at her cute tummy.

Of course, the rest of the attire came off, slipping past her wide hips as she wiggled them away.

“There,” she intoned. “Nice to be out of those rags for a bit.”

Coen took another step back. “What the hell are you doing!?”

Shizuka’s ears flagged. Her head tilted and she laughed. “You’re not as clever as I thought. . . I see why Seishin is so. . . obvious with you.”

Coen’s fear washed away, instead replaced by an unusual sense of exciting, lust driven anxiety. Oh, oh no! it was happening again! A kitsune was trying to seduce him! Well, trying implied that she failed, this was working well enough.

C’mon, Coen, are you really going to get swayed so easily?

Shizuka stretched, her tits wobbling again.

. . .yes.

“You’re still standing, which is good news for us both. Endurable little morsel, aren’t you?”

He blinked. Certainly, his agitation waivered, but that didn’t mean he was completely trusting of her.

“I don’t. . .”

“Understand? Yes, yes, I know.”

She took a step forward, hand on hips. “Tell me, Coen, does it make you feel powerful to fuck magical creatures like us? To have them subdued and submissive? Oh, I can only imagine!”

Like poison in the well. Or maybe, honey in the wine. The words put fire in Coen’s veins, like a sweeping wave of magma. His chest hammered and adrenalin consumed his mind. Shit, why’d she have to go and say something like that?

Once again, Shizuka approached and leaned, her hefty bosom wiggling into view, the plump sacs bouncing together as she did.

“It’s very simple, Coen. I’d rather Seishin not know about my ‘interesting’ past, and you’re the only one with any kind of suspicion. So, to keep that cute mouth of yours quiet, how about I use mine instead? Among things.”

Whoa, whoa. What did she mean by that?

What the hell do you think, man!?

Not like he had time to contemplate this. Shizuka was quick to demonstrate her strength by sheer size alone, picking him up by the scuff of his shirt and – with gentle force – tossing him into his bed. She looked it over, tapping chin.

“This will do.”

By that, Coen meant the bed size. Guest he was, but some of the furniture was still intended for, well, creatures of Seishin’s stature (it made him wonder who previous attendants were). But, little time for that! He landed in the silk sheets with a soft thud while the curvaceous creature looked him over.

“You wouldn’t tell on poor old me, would you Coen?” she cooed, crawling over to him, or at least, placing her large vixen head over his chest, sniffing at him.

“I. . .”

Not so good with words, was he? The situation was well beyond him. One thing to have someone offer themselves in such a blunt way, but for it to be a kitsune? One far larger than him? He wasn’t used to it. He tried to push aside his desires, but it wasn’t much use. God, what would Seishin think or say? Would she be mad? Probably.

No time to muse, because Shizuka’s fingers quickly pulled him out of his clothes with quick indifference. Tethers ripped yet again, revealing his loins, which sprung into the air, hard and bothered. Damn, his own body betrayed him! His thoughts were full of confusion, but his flesh was ever so willing.

“Are you gonna’ hurt me?” he said, uncertain. Shizuka laughed.

“HAH! Precious.”

Her wet, soft tongue flicked out and draped over Coen’s flank, lapping at it with enthuse. It’s size was enough to massage and engulf the member, even curling around it around. At once, Coen groaned, his concerns pushed to the side as the kitsune serviced his inches.

“I think we both know I could’ve a long while ago, little one,” she chimed, continuing the motions. Such a tongue caressed every bit of Coen’s mast, letting it rest on her fleshy rug, giggling as he writhed and squirmed. Not from pain, oh no, simply the sharp, electric tingles erupting throughout his loins.

“Ggghaaa. . .”

His eyelids closed, swimming in the physical intensity overtaking him. Damn, he was so sodden and wet already, and mingled with his presex Shizuka had turned him into a sloppy mess with little trouble. Her messy, lapping sounds filled the room, muffling Coen’s small groans as her muzzle wrapped about his length with delicate force. Being that was she was much larger, she of course took care not to break the little thing.

Her ears wiggled, popping him free.

“Isn’t this interesting,” she said, licking her chops. “Seisei’s enchanted you, has she? I can tell. Made you. . . resilient.”

He blinked. How did the kitsune know? Oh, who was he kidding, she was magic too, he probably smelled of arcane wax or something!

“How fortunate for both of us!” said Shizuka with a sneer.

“W-what. . .” said Coen, trying to speak. Shizuka put a finger to her lips.

“Hush, you, can’t have you spilling all my secrets. In fact. . .”

She took one more slow, long lick of his root, savoring the youthful flavor before adjusting, shifting her frame. Here, she crawled over Coen – quite a sight to behold. Her size forced ample bosom to press and squish against him, embracing with soft, supple fur and flesh. But, she didn’t intend to remain there. Devious kitsune she was, Shizuka had other plans.

“I think I should silence you for a bit, yes? Just in case.”

What did that mean? Well, Coen found out.

The “convenience” of Seishin’s enchantments, he found, weren’t exactly for survival. Seishin was bored with the usual humdrum of her routines, so naturally, having a plaything that wouldn’t snap was handy. It appeared Shizuka full intended to take advantage of this.

Indeed, she swung herself around and pressed her full, fat rump against Coen’s face. Well, pressed was an understatement. Though she was naturally lithe for a kitsune, her size meant her ass was impressively large for him. Hips wide as the day and her rump was soft and generous. Much like he “suffered” this under Seishin (literally), it appeared Shizuka was having a go, too. She chittered, sighing as her mons and pucker ring planted over him, her hips rolling in smooth motions as Coen was assaulted with the weight of her haunches.

“Ghfmfmf!?”

He probably said a few more words, but they did him no good. Might as well have been screaming into a large pillow. Shizuka laughed, tossing her hips in upward dives, smacking her hips against him as gentle claps echoed throughout the room.

“Hmm? Sorry, didn’t quite catch that, little morsel,” she chided, looking back, her six tails wiggling. “Perhaps that mouth is put to better use, yes?”

Oh no. Or, oh yes? Coen wiggled his arms into the plus, generous white hills that was Shizuka’s bubbly bottom, squeezing it. What else could he do? Her intent was clear, and his sloppy loins were already hard as iron. But given her comment, he figured where this was going. Thanks to Seishin, he had an idea. (Un)fortunately for him, his added resilience meant the magic vixen might try something rougher.

“Can’t quite elaborate on plans when you’re like that, now can you?” she commented again, wiggling her hips in short sashays.

Was this her plan? Sit on his face to subdue him? Well. . . it was working.

“Hrnmmf. . .”

Fine, fine. If he was down here, he might as well enjoy himself (or try to). Of course, given Shizuka’s stature, this meant the “mechanics” of working her over presented some complications. He had only one smaller mouth, so as he started to attend with mouthing, kissing licks, she had to reciprocate by rolling her hips against him. She’d start with her nether lips, letting the dewy snatch glide across him as he mumbled with voracious kisses, tongue lapping wherever it could, savoring her flavor. She wore an interesting scent too, earthy yet sweet and pleasant. Almost like perfume? Like she’d bathed in flowers. Part of her kitsune magic, he figured.

“Ahhgn, that’s it. . .” she cooed. “Oh you practiced, didn’t you?”

If by practice she meant “had Seishin do the same thing,” then yes, sort of? Didn’t matter, she kept bouncing her fat, full rump on him, and were it not for the enchantments offered by Seishin, he’d be naught more than the human version of a cracked egg.

Shizuka leaned forward, but only so she could smack and bounce herself on his face with harder strikes. Not too hard, of course, but enough that Coen was treated to the sight of her rising and descending rear. Gah, thank goodness he wasn’t an object, or she’d probably use him as a dildo. Literally. All of him.

Fortunately, (for now) she had other plans, tossing her juicy kitsune pussy over him as he ran his tongue over her lips, cupping her rectal hole, doing everything he could given his size.

“Aha,” she intoned. “A decent warmup. Doesn’t look like you’re saying much, hm?”

Coen blinked, dizzy. “Nnnnr. . .”

“Didn’t think so.”

She glanced down again, smirking. “Seisei has magic, how interesting. . . makes me wonder what the high priest got up to, mm? But you know, little morsel, I’ve got a few things up my whiskers too!”

Uh oh, what did that mean?

Coen watched as Shizuka shifting, turning once more so that her heavy breasts tossed into view. She raised a finger, and a dewdrop of serene, blue light flickered at the tip of her finger. She licked her lips, lowering it, touching Coen at the loins. At once, he felt his shaft grow both more sensitive and, well, literally grow.

At first, he felt a pang of fear. A very, very brief one, because the following sensation was amazing. His inches grew – not overly so, but enough that he was a bit more ‘formidable’ for the larger kitsune. Along with this, he felt sensitive. The air itself tickled his sensitive malehood and a dribble of thick presex escaped his tip, as though he would burst at the lightest tease or touch. Gah!

“I don’t think that will last forever,” commented Shizuka with a sneer. “But long enough for us to have some fun, mm?”

Fun? Nothing wrong with fun. Coen was well beyond the point of caring, now. He considered what Seishin might say, but knowing the big vixen. . . she’d probably just want to join in.

Once again, Shizuka lowered herself, but this time engulfed the enchanted prick with her plump breasts. It was like being swallowed up by fluffy hills, silk mountains, Coen’s flank vanishing in those slopes of plush white. He groaned, bucking upward, stroking himself against the silky embrace of her front, where Shizuka responded with hard, teasing squeezes. She mashed her hands together, running them up and down in short tosses, giggling as Coen moaned with each stroke.

More presex drooled from his crown, and he twitched, heaving hot breaths. “Nnngmmygoood,” he said, staring at the ceiling. He did so because the sensitive inches exploded with hot, electric intensity, growing each time Shizuka stroked herself against him.

“You’re quite the little toy, aren’t you?” she said, bringing her large muzzle to his bellend, breathing on it. Her large flat tongue rolled across it, tasting his flavor, and the added inches allowed her to take a “commanding” grip.

She suckled, mumbling as she did, keeping the shaft buried in her hot oral mouth. Damn, Coen wanted to explode, yet he couldn’t! Why? His balls were trembling, fit to burst over, but even as he edged near peak there was no relief.

The kitsune popped him free, nudging his length with her digits. “Aha, having trouble? That’s part of it, little morsel. See?”

Coen grunted, glancing down to see a ring of light at the base of his cock, as though a shackle.

“Until you promise to keep my secret safe, that little oddity will stay right there,” she said, sneering. “And I’ll be free to play with you as long as I want!”

Agh, damn that creature! Kitsune were nothing but trouble, Coen was finding. One drank wine and fucked him and this one played games and fucked him! Lessons on ancient Japan never mentioned any of this!

“Don’t. . .” Coen pleaded. It was an odd plea, certainly, because his malehood felt amazing. It wasn’t the worst fate to fuck a kitsune forever, right? But, a part of common sense clung to him. That wouldn’t do, so he really had no choice.

Shizuka kissed and mouthed his tip, taking a series of licks, coaxing it from him. “Wellll?” she mewled, watching him carefully.

Oh, it was an easy choice. The intensity of her touches combined with his urge to release was nothing short of overwhelming, like a storm raged in his loins. Not getting “relief” was an agony of a strange sort – pleasant but painful.

“Okay, okay!” he conceded, palms snapping to sweaty forehead. “I won’t say anything! I won’t, just, fuck! Lemme’ go!”

Shizuka tossed her breasts from side to side, wiggling the enlarged cock between them, chittering with laughter. “Ah, good, good, glad we have an understanding! Now we can really have fun.”

His words, a contract, had their intended effect: the shackle shook and waivered, vanishing in a sparkle of bluish sparks. It did not, however, reduce the size of his length, though Coen was moments away from losing it like a misfiring cannon. As for Shizuka, she wasn’t interested in losing out on such a rare treat. After all, this mortal was a prized possession, and she intended to take. If it started with his seed, very well.

“You know, you remind me of those wind-up dolls I saw in villages. . . fancy little things. You just twirl them and then they go!”

Coen didn’t quite know what she was talking about, or where she was going with this. Not at least until she moved herself into a different position, one quite familiar. Indeed, in a moment, Shizuka went to all fours like a dog, wiggling her fat, large haunches, spreading supple cheeks to expose her holes, tongue hanging from muzzle.

“I expect you to be my little toy. . .” she said, wearing a suggestive grin. Coen watched her move, observed her flatten her fat bust into the bed, and like before, instinct took over. It didn’t take a genius to figure out what the next move.

“Fine!” he grumbled, standing up in the sheets. Not from aggravation, simply resolution. He was gonna fuck the stuffing outta’ this kitsune! And if she was going to play games, would too. He was no pushover!

He could’ve driven his rod into her soft, awaiting pussy, the juicy cleft sodden arousal and his saliva, but dammit, she made a seat and fool out of him! He’d punish her alright, so, he settled on her other hole, her black, inviting ring which practically winked at him, teasing him.

Wind-up toy, eh? He’d wind up all right! Going to her haunches (having to stand), his hands sank into her snowy white rump, caressing the plump white cheeks, stretching them wide so his vision was left undeterred. With focus, he had to climb her. There was a phrase here about scaling mountains, he was sure. Because of the size difference, Coen couldn’t just rut her from behind, he needed a better position, and so clambered upon her fat rump, cock dangling between her cheeks as he found himself in a more “manageable” spot.

“O-oh? What are you doing up there?” cooed Shizuka, her six tails sliding out of the way. Coen gripped a few for balance until his tip nuzzled her ring, forcing the kitsune to moan. Here, he wasted no time, shoving his pike into her backside, the tight ring wrapping around his bestial root, suckling it, creating tight, hot grip.

“Ahn!”

That grunt wasn’t good enough – not for Coen. He was so damn tired of being bossed around and treated like a fragile animal. Er, well, he was technically that consider Seishin’s and Shizuka’s stature, but that didn’t mean he liked it! So, with animal, brute force, he hammered himself into the tight pucker, beginning a smooth – if not awkward – piston rhythm into the thief. Each smack of hips sent jiggly, bouncing waves through the white rump, along with a corresponding groan from the large kitsune. Dollops of presex and saliva splashed about with each impact, only encouraging Coen to thrust with harsher gusto.

He gripped her tail, imitating a jackhammer, breathing steam as he plunged her pucker. All the while, Shizuka whined in response, bounced forward, tongue hanging free as her cheeks and eyes tinted with heat.

“T-t-that’s too much!” she complained (though did nothing to stop Coen).

Too much!? How about being a joke to a kitsune and stuck in a different reality!? That was too much! Well, if he was powerless to change his fate, at least he could do something with his dick, magically enhanced or no!

Like a storm, he surged, banging into the thieving Kitsune like a bronco. He didn’t know what she intended to steal, but whatever it was, he’d make her pay for having to keep quiet about it. Then again, maybe she liked it rough? Bah, didn’t matter. He was well beyond the point of cohesion and threw himself into her with wild, unforgiving thrusts, each one putting his flesh to heights of physical ecstasy he didn’t even know were possible.

But, tormented for so long – both by Shizuka’s enchantments and his own impatience – Coen could hold back no more. He grunted, his whole self buckling and trembling, releasing a wave of hot issue as he drove his sword into Shizuka’s metaphorical hilt. His cock twitched, testes roiling over as the issue of himself drowned her tight hole, Coen helpless to hang on as he poured his seed into her. He held her tails like a life rope, pouring with heat and sweat, an orgasm of such intensity overtaking him he thought he might pass out.

“Ggghggghh. . .”

He panted, drooling even, collapsing – literally. He fell from his position, popping from the kitsune, her hole leaking with issue and sex as she wiggled, hoping for more. Coen was surprised to see how much he. . . produced, dizzy eyes staring at the ceiling again, heaving for air.

“Holy shit,” he managed to say, face hot. Shizuka glanced back.

“Y-you’re hungrier than I thought, h-hah,” she said through rasping breaths. “Oh, but we’re not done!”

Not done!? Of course he was, he was spent! But, no. Combined with Seishin’s enchantments and Shizuka’s ravenous appetite, he was still hard, and the larger creature had every intent to use him as such. She shifted position, mounting him, this type taking his sloppy, gooey cock into her awaiting folds, the heat consuming him in one slick motion. He grimaced, still hazy from the afterglow. Seems there was no escape.

“Come now, little morsel, there’s much fun to be had!”

Goddammit, Kitsunes were ravenous.

-*-

Coen didn’t recall passing out, or, the moment he fell asleep. Did he, at all? Or was he just knocked unconscious by Shizuka, who’d seen fit to use him as her “wind up toy,” as she so eloquently put it? Regardless, he peeled his eyes open as the angry morning sun rolled through his windows, forcing him awake. He’d never felt more tired. . . and rested. An odd sensation.

He glanced around. No Shizuka. Was it a dream? Hah, no, of course not, none of this was. But she wasn’t there. His mind – sleepy as it was – snapped to reason, and he figured she probably took her trinkets and ran off. She looked and sounded a thief, so why cast any doubt at all?

In the meantime, he glanced at himself, specifically his loins. His cock was uh, normal. He was relieved, oddly. The added size was strange and left him in such a sensitive state it was a wonder he could move around. Besides, the less foxy magic afflicting his body, the better. He was already dealing with problems of the temporal sort.

He groaned, pushing himself out of bed (which was a complete mess of sexual congress). He bathed, trying to forget the night, and put on some form fitting robes. Well, guess he had to go explain a few things to Seishin. He couldn’t say what Shizuka had done (or what she implied she’d done) but, at least he could point out she had wandered off. It was for the best.

As he went to the main foyer of the Temple, he heard Seishin. At brisk pace he went to find her. . .

. . .only to see her sitting with Shizuka. The latter’s ears flagged, tossing him a glance and smirking, while Seishin waved. In front of them were plates of cut and salted hog and potato cakes, accented by cups of hot tea.

“Oh, there you are little one,” said Seishin with a wave. “Come eat, come eat! Shizuka had this wonderful little recipe I think you’d love.”

He blinked, looking between them. Oh no.

“Yes,” Shizuka added, taking a bite. “Thought I’d stick around a bit longer. This place is interesting.”

They both shared a laugh, a kind of laugh that made Ceon wonder what the fuck they’d been talking about.

“Are you hungry?” Seishin offered, pushing a small plate forward.

Coen sighed.

“Not hungry enough.”