Sometimes, when Shura paused and let herself reflect, a sense of awe stole over her. It had only been eighteen months since Yuki had swept into Hanei, beautiful redhead at her side, her brittle alias fraying as the story she told wove a caustic truth about Inari's disgraced exile...and then promptly told Shura that her wards were shit and she couldn’t use magic worth a damn. Without quite meaning to, Shura had fallen into the undertow, fascinated by the wards and history and the war, until she found something more beneath the black fur and frigid eyes and the nogitsune's curling, signature smirk. Lover. Teacher. Mistress.
In just eighteen months, Yuki had pushed Shura beyond what she thought was possible. Stoking her foxfire into something she could wield, like a blacksmith forging a fine blade from a block of steel. Honing her instincts with wards. Teaching Shura to fill her illusions with emotions and compulsions and a belief she rarely held in herself since that night at the gate. And... carving a place that was solely her own.
One thing the kitsune hadn’t learned, though, was when the next teaching would come.
“Come on, Bubblegum. It’s time for your next lesson.”
“Huh?” Shura twisted around from her seat on the floor, taking her eyes off the gameshow on the apartment’s TV to gaze at the nogitsune across the room. Merielle also looked over from the couch, curled up in an oversized t-shirt that barely concealed the selkie’s sensuality. “Now? It’s a bit late, isn’t it?”
Yuki loomed above her, clad in a silk kimono. The nogitsune folded her arms beneath her breasts and leaned against the doorframe, the fabric hitching up her muscled thigh. "The world isn't going to wait until it's convenient for you to use your foxfire. But if you're too tired after a full, stressful day of sightseeing...I understand."
And there it was. Their song and dance. Or was sparring a better description for it? Blows were certainly exchanged. Soft spots nudged and exploited. Fires sparked. And all of it was uniquely theirs.
Oh, hell yeah.
Shura leaned back on her palms. Grinned as familiar embers stirred in her chest. "Nah, I was just worried about you. Old people need their sleep, y'know? But if you think you'll be able to stay awake, let's do it."
Yuki smiled, pushed off the frame, and sauntered into the room. Each shift of her kimono cast shimmering shadows across her body. The obi cinched at her waist drew the silk taut to the swell of her breasts, the fabric clinging to her hips and curves. It was like the garment had been fitted specifically for her, responding to every sway, every tic, every breath.
"Good. Stand up. Red, turn off the TV. Shura here is going to need as much focus as she can get.”
“Sure thing.” Merielle reached for the remote, stretching from her lounging position on the couch. The room went quiet as she sat upright and crossed her legs. Her green eyes glimmered, a playful smile dancing on her lips. “I’d much rather watch this anyway.”
“So...” Yuki said, moving into the middle of the room. “We’re going to start nice and gentle. Make an illusion of yourself.”
“What? That’s easy! Any teenager can do that! At least give me a challenge," Shura said.
“You’ll see. Now do it.”
The kitsune quirked an eyebrow and frowned. What the hell was Yuki up to? It was definitely something... Shura was familiar enough with these sessions to know that her mistress never did anything without intent. Every command steered her towards a destination. A new move, a combat technique even Ichika didn't know, or a new application of foxfire. Still, understanding she would ultimately benefit didn't dull the frustration of not knowing where it was going.
That, though, was not the same thing as trusting Yuki. Shura did, implicitly, perhaps more than anyone she knew.
Breathing, she tapped into her foxfire. An illusion seeped into existence, matching every detail right down to the fanning, bright blue tails.
Yuki slowly roved over it and made a small noise of appreciation. "Well done, Bubblegum. It's perfect. But as you said, illusions are child's play." The nogitsune circled it lackadaisically, eyes lingering on the place where Shura's hips swelled into her ass. Watching Yuki examine Shura’s illusion like it was her felt... weird, to say the least.
“This might be fine for a prank or if the person you’re trying to fool is standing far away. Your foxfire is capable of producing a better light show than anything the humans have. But... that’s all it is. A light show. A shallow mimicry. If anyone tries to interact with it...”
The nogitsune extended her hand, fingers aimed to grope the illusion’s breast. But instead of finding purchase, Yuki’s hand slipped through, up to the wrist. Shura couldn’t suppress a shudder. Inari, that looked wrong. Even though it was an illusion, her illusion, the wrongness still evoked a visceral reaction.
“You’ve learned how to use illusions to fool someone’s sight, hearing, smell. The issue is, everyone who’s a threat knows kitsune use illusions. They don’t trust anything they can’t feel. You need to learn how to fool their sense of touch.”
Wait...
“What?!” Shura said, her frustration slipping. “You mean, like... make an illusion they can touch? Th... that’s impossible!”
“Impossible.” Yuki sighed and rolled her eyes. “Just like getting you to focus on a lesson for longer than five minutes. Shut up and pay attention.”
Anger bubbled into a sharp riposte on the tip of Shura’s tongue, but curiosity stopped her. This had to be a joke or some kind of trick. No one had ever even talked about making touchable illusions. Foxfire just didn’t do that, or surely Ichika or someone else would have mentioned it.
Then again... this wasn’t exactly Shura’s first brush with ‘impossible’ where Yuki was concerned, was it? Hanei’s ward stones alone were proof of that...
“Shadows aren’t just touch illusions. Fooling someone's sense of touch isn't much use if their hand goes right through it immediately afterward. You need to combine it with an element of enchantment, a compulsion that makes your target treat them as a physical object. Otherwise, you'll never fool them. Of course, creating a convincing Shadow means splitting your focus even more. On top of everything you were already doing, you need to watch your target and react accordingly or your Shadow will fail, regardless of how well you did everything else. You need to weave in your will to make them believe it’s real, and you need to fool their touch at the same time.”
Hot breaths tickled her ear. Shura jumped. A wave of clove-spiced storm air washed over her as Yuki pressed against her back. When the hell did she move?! “You are going to turn your illusion into a Shadow that I’m satisfied with. And I’m going to be very, veeerry thorough with my inspection. After all, there isn’t one part of this slutty body that I haven’t explored. That I don't own...isn’t that right, Bubblegum?”
Hands slid over her abs, then trailed up until the nogitsune cupped Shura’s breasts, extracting a gasp as she squeezed. Her other hand delved down, brushing past the patch of blue fur until Yuki’s fingers slipped over Shura’s clit. It sent a sharp frisson ripping through her; she bit her lip to stifle a moan. Suddenly, a very different fire flared inside her, and she fought to throw it off her.
“G-Gah! Let go, perv!”
Yuki laughed, and it sounded low and dark and delicious. It... promised things that Shura couldn’t afford to think about. Not if she was going to succeed. “I’ve barely started, you bratty slut. But if you fail, you will be punished. Take that as motivation... or don’t. We both know where you and your tongue always end up one way or another...”
With that, Yuki stepped back, leaving Shura bristling and trying to shove her desires into a box in the back of her mind. Touch. Shadow. Focus.
Shura frowned at herself. If what Yuki said was right, this illusion already had the bones of a Shadow. All she had to do was push one layer deeper. She didn't know what that was supposed to feel like, but that had never stopped her before. When Yuki taught her to push her own feeling into someone else using foxfire, she had been exhausted and horny out of her mind, but when she'd finally managed to push what she felt into Yuki without touching her, something had just resonated. It'd felt right, and it had worked. Surely, it would be the same this time around.
Delving into her foxfire came more naturally than breathing. Gathering every ounce of concentration she had, Shura pushed outward into the illusion. Sight, hearing, and smell were already there, woven from her magic. Each sense demanded attention and she needed to maintain them all at once. It was like balancing spinning plates, if each plate was a different shape that needed to be spun at different speeds in different directions, and thrown into the air after a certain number of rotations. The strain tugged at her, but it felt manageable... maybe.
Drawing a deep breath, Shura bundled up her will, directed it at her illusion, shoved... and almost instantly, there it was, like a notch settling into place. Her elation was brief as her focus split, threatening to yank everything apart. She growled quietly, willing the illusion to stay together as the sheer effort of doing so threatened to make it splinter. Come on, come on...!
Seconds passed like minutes. But when they did, her illusion held. One breath. Two breaths. Three.
FUCK YES!
If the effort of shouting might not have tipped her concentration over, Shura would have cheered. Instead, she waited, teeth grit, until Yuki approached the illusion. After another slow eye-roving — Inari, the bitch had to be doing it on purpose! — Yuki touched the illusion‘s shoulder.
Immediately, a gasp tore from Shura’s lips. She felt the urge to stumble, despite nothing pulling on her. Well, nothing physical, anyway. But the second Yuki touched the illusion, it was like trying to keep all of those plates spinning while someone tied a boulder around her waist and launched it over a cliff. Shura’s focus scattered and the illusion didn’t fade so much as shatter, disappearing like a firework winking in the night sky.
She stood there dumbfounded, blinking. “W-what the... fuck...?!”
She’d never lost an illusion before. She’d never felt anything like that before. Not even when she was weaving illusions at the Paradisium with a hundred vulpan hungry to tear out her throat.
“Your magic was pushed beyond its limits. When that happens, it doesn’t affect just one point. Everything falls apart. For this to work, your foxfire needs to be able to adjust to sudden demands.”
As Shura’s mind raced to catch up, Yuki chuckled. “You didn’t think this would be easy, did you? Touch is the hardest sense to fool. Most of the time, people see what they expect to see. If something looks or sounds a little off, the brain will subconsciously fill in discrepancies to bridge the gap. It’ll be much harder for people to notice anything is off. But...”
In an instant, Yuki was there again, hands on Shura’s breasts, her voice tickling the kitsune’s ear. “If these are off? Or this?” Her hand trailed down and back, groping Shura’s ass, her tails grazing the kitsune’s thighs. “Trust me, Bubblegum, I’d know in a heartbeat.”
Before Shura could muster a strangled noise, her focus nosediving, Yuki had stepped back again. “You’re not making the object real, you’re making it feel real. Focus on the sensations. What does it feel like to run your fingers through your hair? Think about each strand as it brushes against your skin. What does it feel like when you brush your hand across your thigh? You need to grasp how it feels, and push that into your target. Now try again.”
Scowling, Shura did. But understanding what she had to do was a whole ass forest's throw away from being able to pull it off. The yank still reverberated through her, and she tried to “brace” herself for it somehow. Weaving another copy, her frustration spiked as she realized trying to do that was useless without knowing what it was supposed to feel like. This time, when Yuki reached out, Shura pushed back. If being touched created a feeling of being pulled, then all she had to do was create an opposing push force... right?
Wrong. So. Very. Wrong. Though Shura was better prepared, the force still jerked violently at her magic. Desperate, she directed more foxfire against it... and as she did, the other senses started slipping. It was almost like the force also pulled on every plate at once, and only her balance would keep them from falling to the ground. Her illusion began wavering and flickering like she was viewing her reflection on a rippling pond, and she knew the sheer strain of holding this had taken her to the brink. Again.
Her illusion barely crashed down before another took its place. She was going to do this, damnit!
Except... she didn’t. Couldn’t. No matter what Shura tried — applying the smallest dollop of magic to make the other senses work, waiting until Yuki extended her hand to push feeling into where the nogitsune touched, focusing on nothing but what a finger felt when it touched smooth skin, or trying to eke more from her foxfire through a stream of muttered curses and sheer, roiling frustration — her illusion disintegrated beneath Yuki’s fingertips, failing in new ways each time. There was a moment where Shura thought she had it, would've sworn up and down the apartment that she saw Yuki's fingers meet some resistance... but that fleeting hope ended like the rest.
“Fuck!” Shura screamed, punching the ground as if she could siphon off her irritation. Sweat misted her forehead and dampened her t-shirt.
“You’re still thinking of it as part of the illusion,” Yuki said, shaking her head. “It’s not. It’s no mere trick of the senses, Bubblegum... it’s a separate spell, an enchantment to make them avoid taking an action without even thinking about it. It’s separate from the illusion, even if you need to maintain them in tandem. You need to focus.”
“What do you think I’ve been doing?! It’s not like I’m-mnphg!”
Fur, lots of it, filled Shura's mouth, her protest dying as Yuki's tail pushed past her lips. Her ears perked, eyes widening in outrage.
“I’m sorry, did the whiny little baby think I was teaching her new ways to concentrate and push her limits for the last year for kicks? That she wasn’t going to need them for something? Now... did you want to chew on this, or did you want to get serious?” The nogitsune pumped her tail, sliding it teasingly over her tongue, pinning the piece of well-worn gum that was there down and leveling a mocking, challenging smile.
Her words were icy poniards, slipping beneath Shura’s skin to the exact buttons Yuki wanted to press. Mistress had always been able to do that... extracting the exact response she wanted with little more than words, or a smile, or simply with her imposing stature that made Shura shiver...
This time though, her angry retort came out as a muffled, strangled noise. All Shura could do was glare, golden eyes narrowed with fury, lips wrapped around her mistress’ obsidian fur - and even then, staring into Yuki’s frigid ones felt a bit like casting a match into a tsunami.
After a pause, the nogitsune’s tail slipped free, a string of saliva trailing from the tip. Yuki cocked her head slightly.
“I can do it,” Shura gasped. She could. She would. She'd create a Shadow so convincing that even Yuki wouldn’t have any complaints. She’d show her!
Bravado though, made for a poor buffer. Using foxfire was exhausting. Each failure sapped a little more strength. Each subsequent attempt felt more like pushing a progressively heavier boulder up a mountain. There were only a few tries left in her before just the thought of touching foxfire would make her stomach lurch.
What Yuki was ordering her to do, though... Shura couldn’t see how. She’d conjured a mass illusion at the Paradisium, and she’d also channeled feeling, real feeling, into Yuki... but both of those had been separate, and both of them had utterly depleted her foxfire then. Still, the waiting, challenging smirk on Yuki’s face was enough. Enough to blow on the sparks that were left, coaxing out reserves of foxfire she hadn’t had in either of those situations...
Or so she thought. But Yuki hadn’t been wrong about what Shura needed to do, and pulling off two different spells, both of an insane magnitude that the kitsune had only recently started to dip her toe into, was too much. She barely managed three attempts, each of them warbling and distorting and ultimately failing like the rest, before she knew there was nothing left. The third attempt brought her to her knees. The last made even that impossible.
Defeated, the kitsune wobbled and collapsed, skin sheened with sweat, chest heaving as she flopped onto her back and sucked at the air.
“Giving up already?" Yuki asked snidely.
“Screw you!” Shura snapped between breaths. “It’s like I said, this is impossible!”
The nogitsune towered above her, porcelain skin a stark contrast to the nine black tails billowing behind her. Power radiated through every lithe inch, belying her relaxed pose. Arms folded, she looked down at her student with eyes that could skewer steel, a warning, predatory curl to her lips. “Screw you, mistress.”
Shura shuddered despite herself. “Screw you, mistress. This is impossible. I’m not playing... whatever this fucked up game is anymore!”
“Oh, right. I forgot you were the master here, and I was taking lessons from you.”
That voice... it was undoubtedly Mistress Yuki’s, but... her lips hadn’t moved. What the fuck? Wait. There was no way... the sound, it was coming from...
Another Yuki emerged from the doorway. This one was naked, skin glistening like she’d just come from the bath, her nipples firm and dark in the cool of the room. Clone Yuki crossed the room, all grace and preternatural athleticism and every bit as smug as the original.
Illusion, Shura told herself as it - she? - approached. Just an illusion. It couldn't touch her, any more than Yuki had been able to touch Shura's.
Then the clone raised her leg, lowered a toned calf towards the kitsune’s face, and nudged her toes against the blue-furred kitsune’s lips.
And she felt it. The warm, soft press of Yuki’s big toe, a shifting weight as that toe pressed Shura’s bottom lip down. Inari, she felt it. She even smelled a faint hint of the soap her mistress used. In one swift moment, Yuki had kicked Shura off the cliff of the known, sending her tumbling down and down into a schism between her knowledge and the vast, disconcerting expanse of what was possible. The fall left her dizzied, her mouth open to deliver words her disbelieving mind couldn’t produce.
“So okay, Mistress Shura,“ clone Yuki said, sneering. “Which lesson are we learning today?”
The real Yuki spoke, circling to stand before Shura. “Are we learning the best ways to lie down on the ground and give up when things get hard?”
“Naturally, you would know what’s possible and what isn’t possible...” Clone Yuki said, wriggling her toe. Without thinking, Shura parted her lips just enough for it to slide in. She stared up at them as they took turns speaking, the dual Yuki effect causing the kitsune’s head to spin.
“No doubt from your years of experience outside of your village, unless you learned the secrets from cows and rice paddies...”
“...Where the only true foxfire master is an old woman too busy to teach you, even if she wasn’t incapable of illusions because she’s blind as a bat...”
“Well?"
Shura trembled, fury and need twining around her. Every barb Yuki dealt gouged deep, nailing her insecurities and bringing them surging past the dam Shura had built to suppress them. In the past, that tidal wave would’ve pulled Shura under, smothering her attempts to surface.
Today though, wasn’t one of those days. She wasn’t that Shura anymore and when her volcanic anger bubbled this time, she channeled it into her foxfire, sharpened it into a blade, and struck. It billowed forth in a downward slash and cleaved the Shadow Yuki apart, the illusion dissipating like water drops sizzling against forge-heated iron.
Except it wasn’t the one who had just walked out that blew apart.
No...
No.
The real Yuki hadn’t been real at all.
But... but she'd felt the black fox's fingers groping her tits. Tweaking her nipples and squeezing down on the bar of her piercing! Felt her silken fur graze teasingly across her body! And the warm breath caressing her ear! Before, Shura could believe that Yuki, with all her centuries of experience, could produce a simple sensation like a toe on her lip, even if that alone shouldn’t have been feasible. But it hadn’t been like that at all…
She had been speaking with, being touched by, and interacting with a Shadow for the last hour, and she’d never suspected a thing.
From the couch, Merielle chucked. Seeing Shura like this at the hands of their mistress wasn’t new, but the amusement of it never faded.
Yuki bent down, smirking, and flicked Shura’s nose, drinking in her student's shock. “As you can see, not only is it possible... it’s very useful. You are going to learn this. But first...”
Black tails lashed out. Shura could barely yelp before she found herself pinned, wrists on either side of her head, ankles bound together. Yuki loomed above her, a long black something clenched in her fist, and Shura's vision faded as a blindfold was wrapped around her head. A brief pang of panic tightened her stomach.
Seconds later, a violent noise rented the air. It took a second for Shura to realize she could feel cool air sweeping over her. Another to realize that was because her clothes had been torn off.
"H-Hey!"
"You won't need those for this part of the lesson.”
"So you had to rip them off like an animal?! I liked that outfit!"
“Mmm, what can I say... you know how it is with old people and impatience. Now Merielle, lover? Get your tongue between this needy slut’s legs.”
"With pleasure, Mistress," the selkie purred.
Being blind, Shura quickly learned, was goddess-damned terrifying. Her respect for Megumi spiked along with her heartbeat as her mind searched desperately for something that wasn’t there. She couldn’t see anything, not even shadows imprinted across the fabric. If she wanted a cold chance in hell of guessing where Yuki and Merielle were, she had to strain for the quietest whisper. Soft footfalls pitter-pattered closer, barely discernible over her shaky, uneven breathing. Knowing what was coming and trusting Merielle didn't dull the anticipation rippling through her.
When, finally, Yuki's tails pried Shura's legs apart and something feathery caressed her stomach, Shura gasped, squirming. She wasn't ticklish, but she hadn't been prepared for how much she would feel.
Merielle must have been shimmying up Shura's body, rounded ass swaying back and forth in the air for Yuki's benefit, because the sensation moved upward. The selkie's red locks trailed a path, tracing over her patch and then the crevices of Shura's muscled stomach, sweeping over her breasts and the glinting gold piercings adorning her perky nipples, before coming to a stop on Shura's neck. Goosebumps sprouted across the kitsune's skin as she shook, the embers of her desire stirring. A hand gently cupped her cheek, Merielle's thumb resting on Shura's lip.
"Well, well, don't you look pretty, " she said, quietly sultry. "Don't worry, Shura, I'll make sure you feel good. And in the meantime... you don't mind taking care of this for me, do you?"
Before Shura could ask, Merielle pulled down with her hooked thumb and crammed something into Shura's mouth. It wasn't silicone. It was much softer and vaguely fuzzy. Fabric? She blinked, confused. Then, a familiar musk filled her nostrils. Oh, Inari—it was her panties.
Shura wretched, coughing the wadded panties up as she tried to wrench her hands free. But Yuki's tails were faster. Two dug into her wrists, pinning her. Another darted forth, shoving the ball back into Shura's mouth, and then pushed towards the back of her throat. The kitsune gagged, writhing uselessly against her restraints. Her throat spasmed and her mind screamed against the degradation... but at the same time, she knew what Yuki wanted. Shura could fight it all she wanted… but she couldn’t win. Reluctantly, slowly, she forced herself to unfurl her bunched hands and loosen her throat to accept the new intrusion in her mouth. Somewhere around her, Yuki made a pleased note. Shura shuddered at the pride of earning her Mistress' approval for doing something so humiliating.
Something wet and icy prodded her pussy. The shock of it made Shura yelp. She bucked, back arching.
"Oops, sorrryyyyy. I just finished eating my popsicle, my tongue may be a teeeeensy bit cold," Merielle said, not sounding at all apologetic.
"Oo...Oo iiiiit kh..." Shura panted.
"Aww, I love you, too. Now, just relax..."
And with that, Merielle's mouth closed over the kitsune's clit. Shura’s gasp of shock tapered into a deep moan, toes curling. Merielle sucked rhythmically, gently pumping and coaxing the bud from its hood. The chills gradually abated, overtaken by the wet warmth of the selkie's mouth. Her tongue glided downward, lavishing Shura's pussy lips with long, smooth strokes. Occasionally she would delve into Shura's cunt with short jabs that never went quite deep enough to stroke her g-spot before pulling back for more maddeningly teasing sweeps, lapping delicately at the kitsune's insides.
As Shura squirmed, two mouths closed over her nipples. Yuki and... another Shadow, it must be. They wasted no time sucking and kissing, swirling their tongues over the kitsune’s perky nubs. They milked cries of pain-twined pleasure when either Yuki rolled a nipple between her teeth or crooked a finger through the nipple rings Yuki had given her three months ago and pulled, stretching her teets to the point where she cried out. Eighteen of Yuki’s tails danced over every part of her body, brushing her inner thighs until she was squirming and mewling, sweeping over her stomach and ass and every inch of skin they could reach, rising to dry the drool leaking out around her panty gag. Yuki and Merielle knew their lover’s body. They lingered on their plaything’s most sensitive spots, working her like putty between them.
No matter what Shura told herself — that it was an illusion, it wasn't real, it was all in her head — it didn’t work. It felt real, and her body drank it in as easily as if there were two Yukis there, and the sensory overload overrode Shura’s meek protests until she didn’t believe them herself.
Coupled with her exhaustion, it took only minutes for the kitsune to be reduced to a writhing, panting, desperate mess, her breaths quickening beneath the now-damp fabric. She didn't have it in her to resist... She didn't think she'd be capable of forming words if she could speak. All Shura knew was the burning ache between her legs that was churning into an inferno.
That blaze would incinerate her, she knew. By this point, Shura was plenty familiar with their threesomes. Those orgasms were akin to steering a sailboat into a tsunami. Orgasms caused by Merielle and two Yukis? She might as well be facing that tsunami in a paddle-less raft.
And she would be lying if she said every cell in her body didn't scream for it.
Crave it.
Need it.
"Mmmmm... she’s soaking, Mistress," Merielle said, over Shura’s muffled whimpers. The selkie licked her lips that were slick from Shura's arousal, tasting the kitsune and spreading her swollen folds to reveal her glistening, twitching cunt. Shimmering strings of fluid stretched between her plump labia, drooping as Merielle held them open.
"Of course she is. Her body knows its place, even if her bratty mouth doesn't." The right Yuki spoke this time.
"It's too bad she's so stubborn," Merielle said, blowing on Shura's engorged clit and drawing another muffled keen. "Instead of begging for what her needy cunt really wants..."
Something else pressed briefly against her pussy but it didn't stay there long, sinking easily into her hungry fuck tunnel. Shura threw her head back, moaning. Merielle's fingers slid past the first knuckle, then the second, then up to the third. She twisted them back and forth, first one way and then the other, taking her time as her thumb pressed over Shura's clit. The selkie was careful to never go too fast as she pumped in and out, careful not to apply too much pressure with her thumb as her fingers curled inside the kitsune's cunt sleeve, seeking the place that made Shura melt.
It hadn’t been that long since she'd last come... but that hardly mattered. Merielle's ministrations were masterful, a maestro effortlessly milking one perfect note after another. Or, in this case, keeping Shura perched on the precipice before the abyss of mindless bliss that she longed to throw herself into. She whimpered, trying to gyrate her hips in time with Merielle's hand. Her climax was building and building, the sheer force of it threatening to uncoil and tear through her body, and yes, yes, please, she fucking needed it!—
Which was, of course, the precise moment Merielle pulled her hand free, leaving Shura's pussy aching and throbbing in phantasmic twitches around the selkie’s now absent fingers.
"Gmmmhp!" Shura groaned and thrashed, her promised orgasm ebbing away.
The Yuki on her left laughed. "Did your lust-addled brain forget what I said? This is a punishment. You won't be coming unless I decide you've earned it, despite your failure. Luckily for you, Bubblegum, I'm in a good mood today. You're going to get one more chance."
A pair of footsteps retreated and another set took its place. There was a soft thud, like someone kneeling in front of her. Suddenly, the tails around her ankles tugged Shura onto her side and yanked one leg up and out, completely exposing her holes.
"Producing a Shadow isn't the only useful skill. Learning how to tell them apart is, too. So..."
A voice spoke from directly above her. "You're going to figure out which one is real. Oh, and Bubblegum? This doesn't stop until you succeed. So how long we're edging your slutty, needy body for..." the Yuki above her trailed off.
"... That's entirely up to you," the first Yuki finished.
Deft fingers touched her lips as someone pulled the thoroughly damp panties from Shura’s mouth. Before she could utter a protest though, a weight settled on her face, and something else was smothered against her lips. Shura gasped, inhaling a dizzying dose of Yuki’s scent. It was intoxicating, and the kitsune’s cunt clenched instinctively. Trembling, she let out a quiet mewl and the Yuki above her moaned as the sensation hummed against her labia.
“That’s it... you know what this is and what to do.”
She did. But Shura wasn’t entirely broken. Not yet. There was still an ember of anger there and she grabbed onto it. Gritting her teeth, the kitsune growled her defiance. Hell no, she wasn’t giving in this easily. Yuki would have to do a hell of a lot more to—
Her ears twitched as she picked up on the light swoosh of something sailing through the air. Then, whatever it was cracked against her tit and her world exploded in pain.
“MNNNGH!” Shura barely had time to cry out before the next blow landed. Then another, and another. They alternated tits until her breasts were alight with agony. The thin welts burned, and Shura wriggled, squirming, trying to escape from her iron-clad restraints.
The strikes didn’t stop, coming too quickly for her to process or try to deal with. They didn’t just whip her tits either, but also struck the sensitive strip along her inner thighs and her clit until finally, desperate to make it end, Shura thrust her tongue as deep into Yuki’s cunt as it could reach. Her mistress was already wet and the kitsune’s nose bumping against her clit only encouraged her.
“Ohhh, fuck yes... that’s a good whore. Keep going just... like... that...” Yuki groaned, grabbing Shura’s head and forcing it against her.
Noticing the absence of lashes now, Shura did, shamelessly burying herself into her mistress’ pussy, more desperate than deliberate as she sloppily ate the nogitsune out, the fresh, stinging lashes a cruel reminder of what would happen if she slacked off...
As she lapped and sucked, the sloppy slurping noises echoing around the living room, one hand grabbed her hip, the other pushing the leg that was pulled out further down, towards her stomach. Shura yelped but knew it wouldn’t matter if she complained. If Yuki wanted her holes spread wider, there was nothing she, or Merielle, or fuck, even Inari, could do about it.
The other Yuki had barely finished pushing her leg back when Shura felt something soft brush across her swollen, drenched lips, that slight contact amplified a thousandfold. The kitsune shivered, trying her best not to let her resolve dissolve right then and there. Still, she was unable to help herself. She knew what was coming and she... she yearned for it. If Shura was being completely honest with herself, she wanted it, and by the time one of Yuki’s tails finally slithered into her eager and waiting quim, she didn’t swallow her moans, didn’t bother suppressing the pleasure rippling through her whole body as she opened her hips wider, silently begging the nogitsune to explore deeper. This was expected... comforting... safe.
What came next wasn’t, as one of Yuki’s tails slid over her puckered asshole. Shura’s eyes widened beneath the blindfold, alarm seizing her body. But Yuki merely let it flicker idly back and forth, back and forth, circling the tight cluster of nerves. Eventually, the light, furry strokes began stimulating the kitsune’s asshole, only helped by the slow, gentle pumps in Shura’s pussy. She felt her mind fracturing beneath the weight of the pleasure, beneath the other Yuki’s cunt as every breath she tried to draw was soaked in her mistress’ arousal.
Eventually, the tail stroking her asshole changed direction, prodding gently but insistently at her pristine rosebud. Shura whimpered—but she didn’t know if it was a protest or begging at that point. Maybe both. After all, she’d never taken Yuki in that hole before...
As if sensing her pet’s trepidation, Yuki continued her patient pace, gradually pushing the tip into Shura’s asshole. It was hardly deep enough to do more than spread her, maybe a knuckle’s length at most, but the burning sensation was uncomfortable enough that Shura clamped down hard enough to nearly squeeze the tip out.
“You’re only making it worse for yourself,” the Yuki who was fucking her said, her nails digging into Shura’s inner thigh. “Relax, and push out your asshole.”
Push... out? It didn’t make sense. Then again, this was a day where Shura had gone from eating yakitori and salad, enjoying a leisurely evening with some silly gameshow that seemed more geared to embarrassing the contestants for the audience’s amusement, to two Yukis, both of whom could touch her and fuck her. Sense clearly had no place in her mistress’ plans for tonight.
Taking in a deep, shuddering breath, Shura gathered her will and did as Yuki commanded, unnatural as it felt to do so. It worked, and the next time the nogitsune pushed inward, her tail was granted easier passage, burrowing into the kitsune’s nearly virgin fuck-tunnel. That, of course, didn’t make it any less painful, and Shura didn’t have it in her to hold her exclamations in anymore. She let herself cry out and groan, the sounds thrumming against the other Yuki’s pussy.
In all the distraction though, her tongue had stilled, and she paid for it when two tails wrapped around her breasts and squeezed. Tight at first, and then tighter, and tighter, until Shura was sobbing and squirming uselessly for release. Inari only knew what her tits looked like now. The abused mounds felt like they were getting the life choked from them, and her chest was starting to go numb. Thankfully, she knew what she had to do and she latched onto Yuki’s clit without hesitation, closing her mouth as tight as she could, sucking rhythmically the way Merielle had. Apparently, this was enough because, to her immense relief, the tails began loosening, the blood rushing back into her abused mounds.
And so, the next few minutes passed. The Yuki in her holes never pushed the tail in her ass very far, preferring to fuck her shallowly there and let the one in her pussy push and shove as deep as it could get until Shura was sure it was pressing against her stomach. Every time the tail pulled out it grazed her g-spot, driving the kitsune nearly mad with her need to orgasm... but of course, it never came. Meanwhile, she continued to pleasure the Yuki above her, adjusting her efforts to the loosening and tightening of the tails around her breasts, her mistress commanding her like she was nothing more than a marionette. Still, as degrading as it was, Shura silently savored the way her mistress’ cunt twitched and clenched around her tongue when she did things just right.
Lost in the haze, she’d nearly forgotten her task until words seeped into her ears.
"Well, Bubblegum? Don't keep us waiting now..." the upper Yuki said. She released her grip, allowing Shura a gasping breath.
Fuck, fuck! She was supposed to guess. Shura had been so caught up in the undercurrent of everything, she’d forgotten. Still, she wasn’t about to let Yuki know that. Even with a blind guess, there was still a 50% chance of getting it right.
“It’s... it’s...” Shura stuttered, blinking through the tears that seeped through her mask. Her face was smeared with rivulets of sweat and tears and Mistress Yuki’s juices. Dazed, she fought to contort her rubberized tongue into coherent words. “...the one over me, M-Mistress,” she managed, swallowing. “T-That’s the real one.”
"Are you sure it's not me?" a sultry voice purred in her ear. The nogitsune’s tails alternated pace as she lazily fucked Shura’s holes. She groped the kitsune's tit hard, the silky flesh bulging slightly beneath her fingers and setting fire to the welts.
"Y-Yes... No! I don't... Fuck, I don't know! How the hell’m I supposed to be able to tell?! You said these Shadow things are supposed to trick all your senses-"
Her words died in a scream. Yuki had slowly withdrawn the tails from Shura’s holes, letting the bristles caress every nerve and bump along the way. Once the tip barely puckered the kitsune’s fluttering rosebud and her other tail fluttered at the entrance of Shura’s sopping pussy, Yuki grabbed the kitsune’s hips, braced, and shoved.
Both tails drove into Shura at once. Pussy drenched, asshole stretched, Yuki’s tails easily bulled through what little resistance was left. The kitsune’s holes squeezed them like a vice, fitted more finely than the tightest glove and massaging every inch of Yuki's tails in spasming tremors. Only a thin membrane separated them, but to Shura, it didn’t feel like it was there at all. In a flash, she went from open, gaping holes and shimmying desperately for friction, to being painfully, agonizingly full.
Shura’s shriek reverberated through the room before tapering off into quiet, shaking sobs. Inari, she was so sensitive. Every nerve in her body felt like it had been doused in aphrodisiac and the surges of overwhelm that came with Yuki's touch threatened to toss her against the cliffs of her rioting lust. Shura couldn't guess if one or four tails were fucking her; only that they were, and it felt like one huge appendage was pummeling into her over and over again, stretching her holes beyond belief.
Inari, it was too much... Her body was going to split, or her mind, or possibly both as she teetered precariously on the edge of oblivion. Whenever that was about to happen though, Yuki immediately shifted pace. She began alternating again, her thrusts gentler but no less deep, reaching down to rub Shura's clit between two fingers, running her nail over the hood, adorning her quaking inner thighs with nips and kisses. The Yuki above her followed suit, gently squeezing the kitsune's tits and letting her fingers graze over Shura's erect nipples. Once her moans were glazed with more pleasure than pain, the Yuki in her holes switched back, her hands and tails keeping Shura firmly in place even as she squirmed and cried and her tits bounced from the force of the plowing, synchronized thrusts.
“Complain, complain, complain. Have you forgotten everything I’ve taught you?" The Yuki above her said sneeringly. "Maybe if you stopped whining for two seconds, you'd remember your lessons. What have I taught you about illusions, Bubblegum? You'll find your answer there. And in the meantime..." A firm grip yanked Shura forward, and her yelp was deafened against her mistress' slick cunt. "You can put your tongue back where it belongs. Come on, little fox. Worship me..."
Exhausted, her mind screaming for a climax, Shura latched on. She would have lifted a bus if Yuki promised to let her come, and worshipping her was easy. Natural. Repetition had become instinct and Shura performed on autopilot. As she quested inside her mistress’ pussy, easily probing the spots the nogitsune liked most and earning deep, throaty moans, she forced herself to focus.
‘What have I taught you about illusions, Bubblegum? You’ll find your answer there.’
But no matter how Shura worked that in her head it didn’t make sense, like a piece of clay refusing to take shape.
There were a few telltale giveaways for illusions, she knew. Usually, it came down to picking out mistakes. Something that looked, sounded, or felt out of place. But Shura couldn’t see, both Yukis sounded the same, and her blindfold-enhanced sense of touch was useless. The kitsune had tasted her mistress’ cunt and felt her tails more times than she could count. If one of them felt off, Shura would have equal chances of having a coin flipped and guessing which side landed up right now.
But what did that leave then? If none of her senses helped, and she had only seen the real Yuki for a split second—
... Oh. Duh.
If Shura could smack her forehead for how long it’d taken her to reach this conclusion, she would have. She didn’t need her senses or any tricks. She just needed to keep track of which Yuki was the real one. And since she’d dispelled Yuki’s first Shadow, she’d gotten a glimpse, at least for a bit, of where the true nogitsune had been. Now she just had to unravel everything that had happened since.
The next time Yuki let Shura pull away, the kitsune raised her head to where she thought the nogitsune's gaze would be. "It's you," she said breathily, Yuki's juices dripping down her chin—or rather, what Yuki’s magic made her think was them. Shura was sure of it, now.
Upper Yuki smiled. "You sure? You weren't so confident last time..."
Shura scowled with as much conviction as she could muster. "Fuck you, Shadow Yuki. I've got your number. Or are you gonna cheat again to make sussing you out harder?"
Silence stretched between them. The pause seemed to last forever and the lack of any visual feedback was like falling in a seemingly bottomless pit...
The blindfold was lifted. Shura’s vision returned and within seconds, the Yuki her lips had been pressed to vanished. The familiar musk of her Mistress’ cunt and the sensation of Shura’s drenched lips disappeared with it.
The real Yuki chuckled. Her tails were still buried deep but she didn’t thrust them now, merely wriggling them back and forth, stimulating and stretching her overtaxed protege. Shura could have cried out in frustration if she had any air left to do it with.
“Good girl, Bubblegum. I knew you could do it... but don’t think you’re off the hook for producing a Shadow of your own.”
A jumble of garbled, confused noises fell from the kitsune’s lips. She couldn’t move, couldn’t think after all that! How did Mistress expect her to...?!
“Don’t worry,” Yuki laughed, her breath setting fire to the hair on Shura’s neck. “We’re done for tonight. You’ll have another chance to impress me during tomorrow’s lesson. Succeed, and I may just decide you’ve done well enough to cum. Fail, and... well...”
Yuki wrenched her tails free, leaving Shura quivering on the floor. Her cunt spasmed, her asshole winking and twitching. After being so full, the sudden emptiness felt... strange. There was a definite coolness between her legs as the apartment air filled her still-gaping, still-parched holes.
Her mistress didn’t have to finish the threat; Shura felt the need tearing through her, occupying every nook in her mind. Instead, the nogitsune just let it linger with the scent of musk and sweat and arousal as she climbed gracefully to her feet, ordering Merielle to clean the dazed kitsune up. As the selkie hovered over her, prepared to start her task, only one thought rang through Shura’s mind.
If this was how the lesson started...what the fuck was coming next?
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