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It didn’t seem like such a bad deal in the beginning. In fact, it was practically a bargain considering what she was asking for in return, which was the reason why she agreed before the rest of her brain could catch up and tell her to maybe wait a second and really consider the consequences. But no, her fingers flew across the keyboard and, after a few more messages back and forth, signed the digital contract.
All of this researcher’s data on digital taste receptors in exchange for her participation in the trial run of their latest VR creation: an attachable penis, complete with connection to the nervous system for full sensation and functionality. Theoretically, at least. That’s what her participation in the trial run is meant to test.
She really should have said no when the offer first fell into her lap, but now that the offending object is literally (digitally?) in her lap and twitching under the combined gazes of her two companions, she’s starting to feel hot under the collar in a way she hadn’t expected.
Sure, she knows logically her nervous system is probably freaking out from being hooked up to something alien, but that doesn’t explain the heat beginning to simmer beneath her skin. The only possible explanation she can think of is one that doesn’t quite sit right with her brain...
She always thought she was beyond base instincts like... like that, but... well, it wouldn’t be the first time she thought she understood her body and was proven wrong. Still, after much scolding from nearly everyone in her life, she’s since learned to sleep more often and eat better, and if she can do that, then she can deal with... with this.
Right?
“My, my, my...” With a sly grin, Yachiyo is the first to speak, as Kaguya is still frozen with wide eyes and an open mouth like a fish out of water. The difference in their reaction would normally make Iroha giggle, but she’s hardly in any position to be laughing when she’s already got her hands full trying to breathe normally and not combust on the spot.
Those efforts immediately go up in smoke as Yachiyo crawls forward and gets right up in Iroha’s face without an ounce of hesitation, her grin growing wider as her eyes narrow with the hint of something dangerous.
As alarm bells go off in her head, Iroha’s first reaction is to scramble backwards, but her tail bumps against the wall not a moment later, quickly putting an end to that avenue of escape. She could’ve sworn the room was bigger than that. Did... Did Yachiyo change the room when she wasn’t paying attention?
Eyes darting rapidly around in panic, Iroha places her hands on Yachiyo’s shoulders, trying to keep her from getting any closer. “Let’s just calm down for a second, okay? We should talk about this first!” she pleads, her voice getting higher with every word.
Unfortunately for her, Yachiyo shows no signs of stopping as she easily overwhelms the arms at her shoulders and squeezes herself between the fox girl’s legs. Her piercing gaze shifts down to the unfamiliar part sitting there, before she tilts her head back up to look Iroha in the eyes. “What is there to talk about? I thought you already signed the agreement to test this. Unless... you’re going to go back on your word?”
She’s right. Iroha already agreed to this. Legally. Even if she hadn’t signed a contract, she hates taking back something she’s already said yes to. All her life, she’s had a habit of committing to whatever crazy idea takes hold in her mind and charging full speed ahead. Why change now? With a thick swallow, she manages to croak out, “I guess you’ve got a point—”
Iroha’s mind short-circuits as Yachiyo reaches out with her hand and brushes against the soft shaft they’d been debating about.
Yachiyo’s light touch leaves a trail of fire across her skin, which is a detail her brain hones in on and files away because the subject’s been on her mind. She’d only just finished fine tuning the temperature detection settings that managed the theoretical temperature of Yachiyo’s virtual body last week, for purely scientific reasons unrelated to sexual acts.
Sexual acts.
Like the one she is currently engaging in. Her and Yachiyo. And... Iroha barely has a second to adjust to Yachiyo’s hand before another hand joins in, gripping with much more force than is necessary, but she supposes that isn’t surprising when the hand belongs to none other than Kaguya.
Releasing a strangled yelp, Iroha manages to hiss out, “Not so hard!” before she sucks in a pained breath, cursing internally that the thing was so sensitive. Thankfully Kaguya gets the message quickly and loosens her grip, but she doesn’t pull away. Her heat lingers just as hot as Yachiyo’s, the unhelpful part of Iroha’s brain points out, which has Iroha cursing internally for an entirely different reason.
“Sorry! It’s just...” Kaguya’s blushing, but she doesn’t shy away. Her apologetic smile flips into a pout as she continues, “Not fair if Yachiyo gets to have all the fun.”
“It’s not like you won’t get a turn,” Iroha groans, but she hardly has the capacity to comment further as two hands begin to explore in tandem, turning her groaning into moaning. She’s not sure if they’re communicating in the privacy of their own minds or if they’d simply had the same thought at the same time, but the double assault starts overwriting the pain from a second ago with a feeling Iroha’s not sure how to frame.
“There, there,” Yachiyo soothes, leaning close to Iroha’s left shoulder and letting her hot breath tickle the fox ear atop Iroha’s head. All the while, her hand strokes the underside of Iroha’s shaft in a slow, steady rhythm. “We’ll make it better.”
“Pain, pain, go away!” Kaguya practically sings, before she leans down and, without missing a beat, kisses the tip of Iroha’s rapidly hardening dick.
A strangled whine escapes Iroha’s lips, her pulse jumping into her throat at the multitude of sensations threatening to overwhelm her. Her first instinct is to panic. Her second is to run. She follows that second instinct. “O-okay, that’s far enough, I think! This thing one hundred percent transfers sensation even though I... I don’t really have one in real life! We can call the test successful, right?” she squeaks out, voice climbing to a pitch she didn’t know she was capable of.
Yachiyo giggles into Iroha’s ear, which, wow, makes her stomach do flips in a way she didn’t realize was possible. “If we don’t test all of it, can we really say we’ve done our job?” she says in a low voice that promises something Iroha isn’t sure she’s equipped to handle. Well, in a metaphorical sense. This equipment is what got her into this mess in the first place—
Kaguya, eyes wide with a curiosity that Iroha would normally call cute in any other situation, gives the tip of Iroha’s now-fully-hard dick an experimental lick. Something about the sensation is off, but the lick goes by so fast that Iroha doesn’t have time to register what exactly it is, only that she’s unconsciously let out an embarrassing whimper.
Neither Kaguya nor Yachiyo are about to let that slide.
“Oho?” Yachiyo smiles in that smug, yet elegant way of hers.
“You liked that!” Kaguya laughs, pointing out the obvious in a way that Iroha wishes she would stop doing when it comes at her expense. But she isn’t given the grace to voice her indignity as Yachiyo moves to drape herself over Iroha’s side, allowing Kaguya to take her place in between Iroha’s legs.
“Wh-what...” Iroha’s head darts back and forth between the two. They’re totally communicating privately, she concludes, and that is definitely not going to end in her favor. A part of her recognizes that she should just give up and let them have their fun, because there’s no way she’ll be able to resist the both of them when they’re tag teaming her. The other part of her is still screaming about her dignity.
Her indignation is immediately silenced by Kaguya bending over, humming, “I wonder...” and taking Iroha’s dick into her mouth and sucking.
The overwhelming heat sets her blood aflame, while the suctioning pull has her gasping for air. If she hadn’t already been sitting down, she’s sure her legs would’ve given out on her. But just as soon as she feels ready to admit that this feels good, Kaguya separates from her with a smacking noise so indecent that the complaint she’d been ready to voice dies in her throat.
Surprisingly enough, it’s Kaguya who lets out a whine of disappointment, her big rabbit ears flopping down more than usual. “It really doesn’t taste like anything...”
Iroha sputters. “I... That’s... Obviously not! The whole reason we’re doing this is for that data, and we’re not getting that data until we...”
“We what?” Kaguya looks up from between Iroha’s legs, her red face shadowed by Iroha’s stiff log standing at attention. Sheesh, when had it grown that big? The manual mentioned growth as part of the process, but this has to be excessive by normal standards, right? With no point of reference to go off of, Iroha just stares transfixed until Yachiyo makes her presence known with a caress against her tail.
Iroha nearly jumps at the touch. Wait. She felt that against her tail? Her tail shouldn’t be transmitting any sensation!
With an amused chuckle, Yachiyo wraps her hand more firmly around the tail, dragging it up and down in a motion that has Iroha’s dick quivering in response. “Until we see how it responds to every kind of stimulation...”
Crap. She didn’t sign up for being handled from the front and the back at the same time. Yachiyo must have copied some of the code embedded in the penis and edited the data of her avatar using her admin privileges, which means that she’s now in a whole new heap of trouble.
“Then let’s get to testing!” Kaguya cheers, startling Iroha out of her thoughts, which is the only warning Iroha gets before she dives back down and captures as much of Iroha’s hard length inside her mouth as she can.
A desperate, pathetic moan escapes through Iroha’s mouth before she can even think to cover it, which would have been mortifying enough on its own, but Kaguya just has to giggle too, a response that Iroha feels more than hears through her now overstimulated shaft. She reaches out a hand to Kaguya’s head, hoping to shove her away, but the traitorous limb threads through her soft hair instead.
Iroha has to focus not to push down when Kaguya begins to bob her head up and down, giving her hot, delicious friction—
Wait. Friction?
A confused groan sneaks out between her uneven breaths, one that doesn’t slip past Yachiyo’s notice. She pauses her stroking of Iroha’s tail, which has thankfully been light enough not to drive her to complete insanity. “What is it?” she asks with what seems like curiosity, but what Iroha recognizes as an undertone of concern.
Iroha, for her part, manages to cobble together the brain cells to assuage her fears. “It’s nothing... big...” At this, Kaguya makes a muffled comment around her dick that Iroha both recognizes and chooses to ignore. “It’s just... a little dry...”
“Dry?” Yachiyo tilts her head to the side, cutely reminiscent of the mini versions of herself that she sometimes has running around.
Iroha shakes that thought out of her head and tries to focus. She really does, but Kaguya refuses to let up on her ministrations, and Iroha can’t bring herself to stop her. Not that she’s ever been that good at saying no to her in the first place, but this... This is important. For science. She manages to wheeze out, “Liquid detection settings are... probably off... But liquid calculations are... hard to program anyway...”
Luckily Yachiyo picks up on what she’s trying to say. “Oh! Does it hurt?”
“No...” She has to bite back another moan as Kaguya takes her even deeper this time down.
“Is it uncomfortable?” Yachiyo prods, almost as if she can read Iroha’s mind. Crap, she’s got that mischievous look in her eyes now.
“I... I guess you could say that?” Now that has Kaguya pausing. Iroha tries not to feel disappointed.
“How is it uncomfortable?” And oh, there it is, that grin of hers that makes Iroha want to instantly cave in and babble every thought running through her head. But surely she can’t let the goddess of Tsukuyomi have her way every time, right? Especially not when any information she gives can and will be used against her when Yachiyo is like this.
Unfortunately for the scientist, however, she’s outnumbered here.
Kaguya releases the hard length from her mouth with an alarmingly obscene slurping noise, leaving a trail of saliva that clings to her lips from Iroha’s tip. Iroha tries not to stare nor analyze what that is doing to her mental state, and instead focuses on how weird it is that she can see all the moisture forming but not feel any of it.
“I just...”
“You just...” Yachiyo and Kaguya say at the same time with question marks appearing over their heads.
Ugh, these two. They’re so adorable she can practically forgive them for anything, including this coercion. Whatever. She’s starting to feel too restless and hot under her skin to deny them their fun... and her own. “Since we’ve come this far, I feel like it’d be a waste not to get the whole experience... since I’ve heard... part of the enjoyment is it being hot a-and...” She swallows. Here we go. “Wet...”
Yachiyo grips her tail hard at the word, while Kaguya perks up slightly. Iroha takes that to mean that they’re interested in what she has to say, so she continues with, “If you guys wait a bit, I can probably fix this—”
“How long?” Kaguya cuts in, already impatient.
Yeah, Iroha expected as much. “Maybe fifteen, twenty minutes? Maybe less if you don’t distract me.”
“That’s way too long!” Kaguya’s cheeks puff out in protest. Iroha wants to point out that, actually, compared to other people her working speed would be considered incredibly quick in comparison, but Kaguya probably already knows and doesn’t care.
Well, it’s fine. It’s not like she needs to feel the wetness (or what counts as wetness in a digital simulation) to know it’s there and properly lubricating the process of what they’ll attempt later. She can feel her ears burning at the thought. “Alright, alright! Forget about it, okay? We can just keep going as is.”
“But you want to feel it, don’t you, Iroha?” Yachiyo finally speaks up, sounding oddly distracted.
When Iroha turns to look at her, she sees that the master of Tsukuyomi has summoned a panel displaying a familiar screen. Oh. Oh no. A nervous bead of sweat slides down Iroha’s forehead. Damn her admin privileges! “H-hold on, let’s not be too hasty with those settings! If you accidentally set one too high...”
Without hesitation, Kaguya reaches over and slaps a haphazard hand against a variety of buttons and bars before anyone can stop her.
Not a moment later, Iroha lets out something between a whine and a yelp as suddenly even the virtual air is too much stimulation for her poor dick. She instinctively tries to curl up into a ball, near-painful pleasure taking over all her senses, but ends up pressing her face directly into Kaguya’s chest.
“Oh. Oh? Someone’s finally getting into the mood!” Kaguya practically cheers as she wraps her arms around Iroha and squeezes her even closer. The movement shifts them so that Iroha’s throbbing rod now rests against Kaguya’s stomach, warm and soft even through the fabric covering it.
Iroha groans pathetically in response.
Her hips twitch forward of their own volition, seeking more stimulation entirely against her will, which draws a surprised squeak from Kaguya. How adorable...
Before she can stop herself, she grips Kaguya by the hips and begins to jerk into her stomach, the sparks of pleasure from every shift of fabric driving every other thought out of her mind. Suddenly all that matters is chasing the next hit of heat and building the fire that’s begun to burn inside her own body.
It’s demeaning, to be reduced to nothing but a rutting animal.
Thankfully for her, Kaguya seems to be into it, if her rapidly increasing breathing is anything to go by. Iroha clearly hears it from her position against her chest, which has her thrusting more vigorously than before. She wants to hear more. Needs to hear more.
So she slides her grip from Kaguya’s hips to her bottom and lifts, giving herself the perfect angle to rut against the heat between the smaller woman’s legs, drawing out a gasp that turns into the most beautiful moan. Between that and Kaguya squeezing her harder against her chest, Iroha finds it difficult to breathe, but somehow breathing is the least of her concerns.
No, she’s more upset that even after all that, she still can’t feel any moisture against her ramrod stiff dick.
“Kaguya...” she groans, never once stopping the motion of her hips. “Does this... feel good?”
“Y-yeah,” Kaguya admits breathlessly into her ears. “Why?”
Iroha should just believe her, but there’s no better way to make sure than by checking the evidence herself, so she sets Kaguya down on her lap and snakes a hand down to her underwear. “Damn it...” It’s wet. Definitely wet. Soaked through, even, which she can detect through her hand because it’s working properly.
She should be flattered that Kaguya wants her so bad, especially because Iroha’s barely touched her, but the frustration is hard to brush past. So what if she’s being greedy? She wants to bask in every aspect of this woman she is horrendously infatuated with, which includes feeling the virtually simulated wetness leaking from her core against this infuriating meat pole.
The thought alone has her groaning again.
“Still no moisture detection?” Yachiyo asks from the side.
Iroha shakes her head from where she’s smooshed against Kaguya’s chest, rubbing her cheeks along soft breasts.
The motorboating prompts a giggle out of Kaguya, who gives her a pat on the head. “I guess I didn’t fix it after all! Oopsie!”
“Is that... all you’ve got to say for yourself? I’m about to lose my mind here, you know!” She should sound irritated, but the complaint comes out more like a desperate, muffled cry for help, which Iroha punctuates with another thrust up. She’s not sure how much longer she can keep her instincts from completely taking over, but she’s sure it’s not far off. “Kaguya... You... You!”
Kaguya breaks out into full-on laughter. “What? Do you want something? I can’t help if you don’t tell me what it is!”
Every torturous second that goes by without relief for this raging hard problem brings her closer to not caring about the dryness anymore. Or about her pride. She’s not beyond begging at this point.
So she begs.
“Please... Please, can I put it in?” She pulls away from Kaguya’s chest to face her and finds that the other woman seems just as frazzled as she feels, hair slightly tousled and cheeks red. But more than that...
Her eyes simmer with hunger that rivals her own. “Okay,” Kaguya replies simply, then moves her arms to grip Iroha by the shoulders, letting her bear the brunt of her weight as she wiggles her hips to adjust their position. With a flick of her head, she unsummons her clothes.
Now Kaguya’s naked core dangles dangerously over the source of Iroha’s current woes, but she doesn’t take the last step to seal the deal. Instead, she looks Iroha right in the eyes with barely contained excitement.
Right. Iroha asked to put it in herself, so Kaguya is allowing her to do the honors. Knowing better than to keep her waiting, she grabs her own dick with a shaking hand and tilts it upward, sucking in a strained breath as the tip sinks into soft warmth.
It’s too much already, but it’s also not enough at the same time. She pushes up to chase for more and finds pure heat that grows the farther in she goes, until she’s fully sheathed and basking in just how good and... and comforting it feels to be connected to the person she cares for most on such an intimate level. It’s like they were always meant to slot together, snug as can be.
Her blood rushes at the thought, awakening a primal part of her brain that immediately hounds her to start moving.
But Kaguya’s arms start to tremble. A glance back at her face reveals that it’s a good kind of trembling though, if her half-lidded eyes and blissed-out grin are anything to go by. She returns Iroha’s gaze with a tilt of her head, before her eyes flicker elsewhere and she snickers.
“Wh-what?”
“Your tail’s going crazy!”
Iroha realizes Kaguya’s right: her tail is stirring up a storm. Crap, but she can’t stop it. This woman has her reflexes spinning out of control, and there’s nothing she can do about it.
Well, except for losing herself to the madness and seeing it through. Let her tail do what it will. She’s got other priorities.
“Forget about the tail,”’ Iroha growls, pulling her hips back, enjoying the drag of Kaguya’s inner walls before thrusting back in and drawing a squeak out of her tormenter. The simple noise sends a wave of heat down to her center, blending into the warmth that emanates from where they’re connected.
“Irohaaa...”
Her ears twitch. That. She needs more of that.
Her hips move of their own volition, producing another melodious moan from Kaguya who must be used to singing by now but not like this. Again, her brain demands. Again, she moves. Pretty soon, she’s building a rhythm to chase that steady flow of sound, listening as Kaguya’s vocal approval mixes with the thumping of her heart.
All the while the heat at her core roars for more kindling, even as she desperately adds more fuel to the fire by leaning up, capturing Kaguya’s panting mouth with her own, and slipping her tongue inside.
Kaguya instantly responds in kind, playfully chasing Iroha’s tongue around in a game of bunny and fox. The motions are as familiar as they are enticing, a contrast to the new experience of Kaguya now bouncing in her lap to meet her thrusts.
These sensations are properly wet, Iroha registers with satisfaction.
They’re wet, she thinks again, and her dick doesn’t feel like it’s about to kill her from the lightest touch against it anymore.
As the realization cuts through the haze of lust clouding her thoughts, Iroha pulls away from Kaguya’s lips (much to her displeasure, if her whine is any indication) and looks over at Yachiyo, expecting to see her proudly awaiting praise for a job well done.
What she finds instead freezes her in place.
Yachiyo, normally the picture of perfection as a songstress beloved across the world, kneels with her thighs splayed open and a hand between her legs, mouth open and chest heaving as her eyes devour the scene in front of her. But as soon as her gaze meets Iroha’s, she flushes bright red and turns away, too embarrassed at being caught to continue.
She’s cute like that, Iroha thinks, before Kaguya starts impatiently impaling herself on Iroha again and stealing her attention away. The friction eased by dampness and heat feels so good that she instinctively rises to meet her halfway, before her brain manages to beat back the pleasure long enough for her to grab Kaguya by the hips and force her to a stop.
Kaguya immediately voices her displeasure with an irritated “Irohaaa” but Iroha won’t be swayed. Not when the other half of her other half is being left out of the fun.
“Yachiyo,” Iroha calls out, watching as Yachiyo twitches upon hearing her name. “Come here.”
“I’d... I’d rather not,” comes the shy refusal. Her soft voice wavers with agitation from probably both mortification and pent-up energy.
“Yachiyo,” Iroha tries again. “Look at me?”
The earnest request produces the desired result: Yachiyo bashfully casts her gaze back over, peeking over her shoulder as her legs fold to the side to hide what she’d been up to. She’s red to the tips of her ears which peek out from her silver locks.
Iroha’s seized by the urge to touch her. “I want to feel you too. Please?”
Yachiyo shifts as if to comply, but freezes before she can commit to movement, her expression torn.
At this, Kaguya twists in Iroha’s grip and yells with no small amount of impatience, “Yachiyo, you big dummy! You think Iroha doesn’t want you? She got way bigger when she caught you staring!”
Iroha lets out a strangled noise. Had she? Well, either way, it’s true that she craves Yachiyo just as much as she does Kaguya. So when her eyes catch Yachiyo’s inquiring gaze, she nods without hesitation even when her face feels like it’s about to combust.
Finally, finally, Yachiyo gets on her knees and closes the relatively small distance between them, settling tentatively within arms reach in a pose that exudes uncertainty.
But Iroha isn’t about to have that. With a confidence she didn’t know she had, she cups Yachiyo by the chin and pulls her in for a kiss. Thankfully, Yachiyo accepts without much resistance, melting into Iroha’s touch as they press into one another.
Kaguya, not one to be outdone by any means, takes advantage of Iroha’s distraction and resumes chasing her own pleasure on top of her lap. She moves slowly at first, leaving Iroha with just enough focus to kiss Yachiyo in earnest and slip her tongue in, but quickly ramps up to a fast, eager pace, distracting Iroha enough to falter in her efforts and moan directly into Yachiyo’s mouth.
Sparks of pleasure tickle Iroha’s senses as Yachiyo moans back, stealing her already limited breath away. In the fog of her oxygen-deprived system, Iroha thinks she wouldn’t complain if she passed away right then and there, but for the woman that crashed into her life and turned the world on its head, she knows it’s too early to throw in the towel.
Gasping for air, she pulls away from Yachiyo’s lips and tries to catch her breath, but the way Kaguya is now dropping herself up and down and landing with a wet smack every bounce leaves her no room to recover. It makes Iroha feel boneless, to the point where her body burns like there’s a fever coursing through it, but a glance at Kaguya reveals she’s not doing much better.
Beads of sweat fall down her forehead, framed by her rabbit ears flopping atop her head, trailing down her cheeks, down her throat, down to the valley between her swaying breasts. She’s riding Iroha with everything she’s got, her lips pulled into a happy, hungry smile and her eyes full of adoration.
“Kaguya...” Iroha breathes out.
Kaguya peers into her eyes and, after a moment of searching, leans close to her ear to whisper, “I love you, Iroha.”
Oh. Oh.
Iroha reaches out with one hand to grab Kaguya by the hips and slam her down to meet her sudden thrust upward. The motion has her seeing stars, while hearing Kaguya’s delighted scream has her blood singing. But she’s far from done yet. Reaching out with her other hand, she snakes it between Yachiyo’s legs, much to the other woman’s surprise, and rubs it against the slick folds waiting there.
“I-Iroha?” Yachiyo gasps, grasping at Iroha’s arm. She shudders in both surprise and arousal as Iroha immediately sets to work, slipping her fingers easily into the warmth of Yachiyo’s core and curling into it with ease.
“Let me... take care of you too,” Iroha manages to wheeze out as she struggles to balance the tremendous task of tending to both her partners against drowning in her own pleasure. She’s really got to concentrate, otherwise she’d be content to squeeze her eyes shut and let Kaguya ride her into oblivion.
But as nice as that would be, making sure both her partners are satisfied would be even better. With focus shaped by years of study, she curls her fingers and rubs her thumb along the hard nub peeking out from Yachiyo’s curls, noting with satisfaction that Yachiyo starts clinging to her arm like a lifeline, moaning an “Irohaaa” into her ear.
Kaguya, picking up on this, leans into her other ear and bites it.
Iroha is not proud of the way she jolts up and hilts into Kaguya in reaction, nor how she jerks her hand into Yachiyo, but even though both actions should have been painful, they both let out choked moans like they liked it. Which...
Sneaking quick glances between the both of them and seeing their flushed faces and needy gazes, Iroha thinks they might actually have liked that. Huh.
As a woman of science, she tests her theory by plunging into the both of them with enough force to lift them up and rapidly accelerating the pace of her pounding, observing how they both cling to her tighter than before. Kaguya goes in for another hot, heady make-out session, then giggles and pulls away to let Yachiyo have a turn, barely letting Iroha steal a breath before hungrily diving into her. It makes for a hot, sweaty, dizzying mess, and none of it gentle.
Still, she’s careful not to go too far, ready to adjust the instant she notices any discomfort from either woman. But with only their approving kisses and affectionate nips to her throat, the rapid rhythm continues, Iroha’s fingers working in time with her thrusts; a natural adjustment to make both tasks easier on her increasingly hazy mind.
At some point, somebody had despawned hers and Yachiyo’s clothes so that they’re all naked, which gives easy access for both Kaguya and Yachiyo to paw at her breasts while they pass around her mouth. It makes Iroha desperately wish she could taste them, but with how close she already is to losing her mind, maybe it’s for the better that her mind’s down one sensory function.
With that being said, against these two who are giving as good as they get, she can tell she’s a step away from finishing. Kaguya’s probably not far off either, given her haggard panting and how much wetness coats her thighs, but Yachiyo might be a little further off since Iroha is struggling to keep her movements precise in the face of all these distractions.
But it’s fine. Iroha’s got a plan. She always does.
Pulling away from Yachiyo’s lips and removing her hand from between her legs (and steeling her heart against the adorable whine that follows), she sends her an apologetic look. She gives Yachiyo one more kiss and asks, “Do me a favor?”
Yachiyo, flushed and hair disheveled, tilts her head curiously.
“Touch yourself like you were doing before,” Iroha requests quietly.
Yachiyo makes a strangled noise, but eventually nods and shyly starts to obey.
As much as Iroha wants to watch, she’s got another task ahead. Now with the force of two arms, she yanks Kaguya’s hips to hers, nips her throat in payback and murmurs with more confidence than she actually feels, “Kaguya... are you close?”
A visible shudder runs through Kaguya at that. She fidgets in Iroha’s grip and says, “I... I can keep going...”
“I’ll take that as a yes,” Iroha says more to herself than anyone else. She grips Kaguya’s hips tight, which is all the warning the other woman gets before she pounds into her in earnest, going as fast as the muscles of her lower half will allow as she uses both arms to really plow into her.
“Iroha!” Kaguya outright screams in pleasure.
Iroha takes that to mean that she’s gotten better at these hip motions, or at least instinct is guiding her right, because she feels like she’s hitting her even deeper than before. Pretty soon, Kaguya’s squeezing so tight around Iroha that she’s driving the both of them to the edge.
“I’m... close too,” Iroha admits between panting gasps. “You feel... so good.”
At that, Kaguya whimpers. “Iroha... Iroha! Please...” she begs. Then they’re kissing each other again, melding into one another so thoroughly that it’s hard to tell where her breaths begin and Kaguya’s end.
Iroha almost lets go, right then and there, but she holds on long enough to whisper, “I love you, Kaguya.”
That tips Kaguya over the edge as she comes, babbling Iroha’s name over and over again, while Iroha spills inside of her with a groan. The sensation is odd but also gratifying, on top of feeling plain good as Kaguya’s walls convulse and practically milk her for all she’s worth. She unloads what feels like an endless, spurting stream and briefly wonders what the amount was set for.
Hm. They probably messed with the settings for that too, didn’t they?
By the time the rush slows, she can actually feel Kaguya’s stomach pressing against hers with added weight. They definitely messed with the settings, she notes, but there’s also a part of her that’s... kind of into it. She’s not going to think about that too hard though.
Speaking of hard...
She finally pulls out of Kaguya, who’s turned into a limp, sweaty, blissed-out ragdoll, and frees her still hard cock, unleashing a thick splurt of virtual semen from the newly vacated hole. More cum oozes out after, which makes her feel oddly proud even though she had nothing to do with programming it, but she chalks it up to more base instincts that she doesn’t want to think about.
What she did do was remove the refractory period from the programming of the penis, because she had a feeling she’d need to if she was going to please both her girls. She thanks past Iroha for that good bit of foresight.
Gently laying Kaguya’s body down to the ground to let her recover (and being so, so grateful that all that virtual cum would clean itself later), she gives her a once-over and asks, “Are you going to be okay?”
Kaguya flashes her a shaky thumbs-up and a cheeky grin.
Iroha shakes her head and huffs a fond laugh, before turning to the other woman who had stopped touching herself to stare at the two of them in awe and no small amount of envy.
“Yachiyo,” she calls out, which startles Yachiyo out of her reverie with a flinch. Preemptively slipping an arm around her waist, Iroha pulls her close for a chaste kiss in the hopes of reassuring her.
It proves to be the right move as Yachiyo relaxes into her hold and sinks into the kiss, whimpering in protest when they separate. Her gaze wavers with hesitation and need, both desperate for more attention but too afraid to ask for more.
Guess she needs a bit more of a push, Iroha thinks to herself. They've been working on Yachiyo's doubts, but sometimes they still get the better of her. Iroha's willing to reassure Yachiyo as many times as she needs though, even if it makes her cheeks burn. “You’re beautiful,” she says quietly, caressing Yachiyo’s cheek fondly and letting her lean into the touch. “I want you... I always have and I always will.”
“But Yaccho’s old news...” Yachiyo shifts uncomfortably, even as a small smile forms on her lips.
“Some things get better with time,” Iroha responds without missing a beat. Then, after a moment’s hesitation, she mutters, “Plus I know you’ve seen my search history from back before we met...” She’s not proud of what she looked up (even if she knows it’s normal for a horny teen to want those things), but it is undeniable proof that she has always wanted the master of Tsukuyomi.
That prompts a giggle out of Yachiyo, who finally seems comfortable enough to tease her with, “I suppose you did desire things of me... badly enough to break the law.”
“Listen, there’s not a teen out there who’s actually staying away from adult content like they’re supposed to,” Iroha grumbles, but there’s no bite to her words when she’s ready to bury her head into the ground at the admission. Shaking her head, she brings them back to the topic at hand, “The point is, I want to be with you too... in every way possible, if you’ll have me.”
That seems to do the trick. Cheeks tinged red, Yachiyo holds her gaze, swallows thickly, and nods.
Iroha instantly sets to capturing her lips again, diving into Yachiyo so hard that she ends up tackling her to the ground. But she hardly cares when that just presses her tight against the other woman, whose thighs stick to hers from how long she's gone without release.
“Sorry to keep you waiting,” Iroha breathes against her lips. “Let me take care of you now.”
That brings tears to Yachiyo’s eyes, which startles Iroha for a moment before she realizes those are good tears, and with them comes the impulse to meet the expectation she's now set. She tries not to think about the weight of what she's said, instead wiping those tears with her thumbs and pressing a kiss to Yachiyo's forehead.
Yachiyo pouts at that, wrapping her arms around Iroha's neck and yanking her lips back to her own, wasting no time teasing her mouth open with an eager tongue.
She's so warm, so tangible in Iroha's arms, that Iroha could stay here just kissing her for eternity, but she knows that's not what Yachiyo wants. In the few moments of clarity she gets between kisses, she moves herself into position between Yachiyo's legs, shuddering as her stiff rod brushes against hot, wet skin.
With her heartbeat thundering in her ears, Iroha draws back enough to look down, lining herself up with a hand and finally slipping in. Yachiyo immediately voices her approval and wraps her legs around Iroha's waist, urging the rest of her in and accepting her so easily, hot and tight and all encompassing, that by the time she bottoms out, she knows she’s not going to last long.
Especially not when Yachiyo lets out a moan that sounds sweeter than any song she’s ever heard.
She can't stop herself after that, inhibitions gone and hunger at the wheel, spurring her hips to pound into the comforting warmth and draw out more of this salacious melody. Somehow this mindless rutting is doing the job, because Yachiyo responds perfectly, mewling into her ear and clutching tight against her with every push and pull.
Yet even as she drinks in every touch and tantalizing reaction, there's a greed within that demands for more. Licking her lips, Iroha regains enough of her senses to shift a hand toward Yachiyo's heaving chest and thumb over a hardened nub. The touch is light, teasing, but Yachiyo's back arcs as if she'd been struck by a current of lightning.
"Iroha," Yachiyo whines, and Iroha can hear the unspoken request for her to dig deep and unearth all she's hidden inside for so long.
Like always, Iroha can never say no to her. She grips Yachiyo's boobs in both hands and begins to knead in earnest, pinching and rubbing her nipples intermittently while making sure to keep the pace with her hips below. She gauges each gasp, each twist, each jerk, adjusting every action to keep Yachiyo singing and tightening around her.
There's a part of her that struggles to believe this is real, that she gets to feel her like this. Not because it’d taken years to make the technology, but because this is both her idol and everyone else’s too, yet she's the one who gets to see her laid bare. To touch her like no one else has.
Her eyes and Yachiyo's meet, and she feels a familiar pull. There's a similar adoration reflected in those eyes, and the words are spilling out of her before she can stop herself. "I love you, Yachiyo," she admits aloud, and it comes out more like a wheeze from how winded she is instead of the cool, collected voice she'd intended.
But Yachiyo is just as breathless, letting out a weak giggle before her own admission comes out in turn. "I love you too, Iroha."
When Iroha hears the "so, so much" that follows after, her heart practically bursts, and in the surge of emotion that follows she can't hold back the flood of euphoria that'd been building in her lower region. She comes hard, an embarrassing noise escaping her throat as she paints Yachiyo's insides white, collapsing on top of her as her arms give out.
Yachiyo follows right after, squeezing her tight as she finds her own release in the wake of Iroha's, her arms scooping up and accepting her weight as she falls. For a brief moment, it's just the two of them joined as one, rising and falling in the aftershocks of what they've shared and Iroha continues to eject a stream of cum.
Just like before, her dick shows no signs of stopping anytime soon. But at least while the fake semen keeps pumping out, she can simply lie there and relax in Yachiyo's embrace.
That's when something grabs her tail and jerks her out of the post-coital bliss with a shriek.
"You sure came a lot, Iroha!" comes Kaguya's nonchalant comment on something Iroha really doesn't want to discuss out loud, but the damage has already been done. Yachiyo is gazing up at her with a devilish look in her eyes, and Iroha can only wait in fear of what she'll say next.
"As much as I miss food, being stuffed like this is nice in its own way," she says, cupping her slightly extended stomach with a sly smile.
Iroha chokes on her own spit. "Y-you're the ones who set it up like this! Not me!"
At this, Kaguya yanks Iroha up and away from Yachiyo, pulling her dick out in the same motion. She makes a humming noise, then pokes at the still-hard, still-leaking appendage, much to Iroha's consternation. "And how come your thingy never gets soft? I don't remember messing with that."
Ugh... She really doesn't want to talk about this, but when Kaguya gets curious, she's learned it's better just to answer and avoid the pestering that would otherwise follow. "If I let it give out after one round, I'd never be able to keep up with the both of you," she sighs, grabbing Kaguya's hands before she can touch the offending rod again.
"So you can keep going?" Yachiyo asks, reaching out instead and giving it a light stroke.
That makes Iroha jolt in place. "Ph-physically, sure, but... I don't know... I think my mind'll melt at the rate we're going."
“Maybe we can do something about that. Kaguya, can you keep her distracted for a little bit?” Yachiyo sounds like she's all business, already recovered from the massive orgasm they'd just shared like it was nothing and pulling up the settings screen one more time, but Iroha can tell: she's up to no good.
“You got it!” And now Kaguya is trying to wriggle out of Iroha's grip, but Iroha desperately hangs on, not liking where any of this is going.
“Listen, just because we can keep going doesn't mean we should! We know the implement works. That's enough testing—"
“After just two rounds? I thought good science involved more rigorous data collection...”
“Sounds to me like we need to try again!”
"Now hang on you two... At least... At least let me catch my breath first!"
...
In conclusion, the virtual representation appears to accurately simulate the full range of functions and sensations of an idealized phallus, even when the test subject lacks a real world equivalent.
Iroha sighs, her keyboard growing quiet as her fingers still. Several hours of nonstop action, rehydration and replenishing of nutrients, and plain old rest later, she has finally recuperated enough to jot down the report she'll need to submit.
Though reliving all the memories and neatly summarizing the events that had transpired immediately sapped her of all her energy once more. Especially when she got to the part where Yachiyo pulled out an extremely small version of herself wrapped in a blanket and scared the hell out of her by saying, “Look at our baby!”
Iroha decides she will leave out that part, just like she has left out several of the other more intimate details. Thank her lucky stars the other scientist mostly just wanted a report of how the phallus felt more than what exactly she had done with it.
That, she decided, she would take to the grave. And hopefully Yachiyo and Kaguya would too, but... she knows better than to hope Kaguya would keep from blabbing something scandalous on stream.
Well, that's a problem for future Iroha. So is the fact that they still have the penis attachment in their inventory. She'll worry about that later... and try not to feel excited at the prospect.
As if on cue, two messages flash across her phone.
Iroha? Are you done yet? Come join us!
You're free for the rest of the night, aren't you? Don't keep us waiting~
Sighing, she makes a mental note to scold the two of them about spying on her laptop again before stretching her hands above her head and standing. Well, no point putting off the inevitable.
It's going to be another long night in Tsukuyomi, but... she has a feeling it'll be more than worth it.