“Senketsu, you’re squeezing me too tight.”
At the sound of Ryuko’s voice, I made a light grunt of acknowledgement and loosened my grip on Ryuko once again.
“This is the third time it’s happened today.”
I didn’t respond to her, a light embarrassment settling in the atmosphere between us, though the unspoken apology hung there.
“You’ve been acting like this a lot, recently. Maybe we should take you to Mikisugi to find out if he knows how to fix that.”
I bristled at the name of that man, though I did not let it show in my words. “I am fine, Ryuko. We do not need to see him.”
Ryuko was partially right. I did feel a bit different in the past few weeks, though was unable to pinpoint what exactly changed in the daily routine we’d participated in.
I settled back into position, staring blankly at the outside world as we boarded the tram train to Honnoji Academy. Mako squatted next to Ryuko, nibbling on what looked to be a burrito of a mixture of sorts, despite there being a rule against eating on the train. We weren’t going to be late, so why she chose to defy the rules was beyond my comprehension.
As the train scaled up the hill, it was abnormally silent, minus the general mumbling of the people surrounding us and the groan of the car as it moved on its predetermined path. My one good eye glanced up at my owner, who stared vacantly forward. I was used to feeling the vibrations in her chest as she spoke to Mako in the mornings, about things that would never be useful to me: Nazi propaganda, what Mrs. Mankanshoku shoved in the food last night that was upsetting her stomach, and other trivial topics. They didn’t discuss the important things in such a crowded location, such as talk about Satsuki or other potential enemies. It’d be too easy for one of Satsuki’s lackeys to pick up on it and report it to her like the slobbering lap dogs that they were.
I didn’t say anything to Ryuko though, and assumed a stoic gaze once more.
The silence helped to calm my threads, which were very itchy as of late. Despite being cleaned and ironed generously, the feeling that something had caught between them remains ever prominent. I haven’t mentioned much more than that to Ryuko, who hasn’t been able to figure out what may be wrong, either, but she stated she’d try her best to make me feel comfortable once we reached home.
This itch made me irritable, snappy, and overall less than pleasant. When it got too much for me to handle, I’d constrict myself, and it relieved some of the irritation. Ryuko doesn’t particularly mind, I think, as she doesn’t mention it unless I squeeze too tight.
I felt her heart beat begin to quicken, and upon inspection we had arrived near Honnoji Academy. Just the sight of it filled Ryuko with a passion that associated itself with confidence and vigour. If one challenged her to a match, her blood was fired up and ready to go.
Something was shoved over my eye before we were able to step off of the train. I could hear Mako rather bluntly stating “Hold these things for a sec’!” What she was doing, I couldn’t tell, but the shuffling I could hear made me assume she was looking around for something. We were moving, though.
When I was able to see again, the train was already out of my sight, and the gaudy entrance to Honnoji Academy filled my vision. Mako was balancing a giant pile of books and papers on her arms and head, which were most likely for the tests that her classes had been bringing up. Because the past week had been uneventful, I prepared to go into semi-stasis until Ryuko addressed me once again. Ryuko turned to pick up something Mako had dropped, and that’s when something caught the corner of my eye.
A fair distance away, I could see some of the civilians walking around, and one of them was wearing something pink. I could make out just the form, and the lady wearing pink sported blond pigtails. My reaction wasn’t intentional, but I instantly tensed up at the sight of her. I could hear Ryuko hiss, but I paid that no mind as I stared at the lady. Moments passed by before I remembered who they reminded me of. Nui Harime.
Ryuko was hitting at my lower half to grab my attention, and almost reluctantly, I uncoiled myself. “Senketsu, what was that about? It felt like you were cutting off my circulation!”
Brushing off her frustration, I closed my eye and let a breeze flow through my threads. “Nui.”
“Huh?” Ryuko wasn’t sure what I said.
“Nui Harime. There’s something about her that sits wrong with me…”
Ryuko doesn’t remember much after having gone Berserk, and neither did I. I can’t recall what happened immediately before becoming Berserk, during Berserk mode, nor a few hours afterwards. I do not believe that going Berserk itself had an adverse effect on my state currently, but without anything else to go off of, I had to chalk up something to it, namely the itching…
“You already said that.”
“What?” I blinked.
“You already said that something’s wrong with Nui. We talked about it yesterday, going over what she could have done to you before our memories cut out.”
As honest as her word was, I couldn’t remember that. I couldn’t remember what events took place yesterday, and the days before that were looking pretty hazy at best, too. The itchiness stuck out the most in any select memory of this week, like a flare in the dark. It was clouding my ability to process a solid thought. My mind was inexplicably drawn to it, the voice I was hearing becoming a gentle hum.
It was a murmur against my fabric, buzzing comfortably where her chest was. I could feel her heart rate pick up minutely, though what was causing it wasn’t within my ability to find out right now. The sun never warmed me up quite like her… I could feel when she whispered, lungs expanding and contracting, much like I felt the urge to right now. The itching left nothing spared, and that momentary lapse of peace was always the calm before the storm with it. I always fell for it too, never tensing in preparation for the itch to come, because the prospect of a paradise of calmness was a welcome change from the irritation this was causing me.
It flared against the seams of my body, moreso than any other part of my body. A wave of heat throbbed throughout me, filling me with a need for something. What it was, I couldn’t pin a definition on it. I quivered minutely, focused on its intensity, even though it only made the itching worse.
Something was pinching my ties, and I whimpered. It was tugging and pulling at them without remorse, no doubt trying to grab my attention. At the sound of my whimper, though, it stopped, and I found myself silently wishing the rough ministration to return.
I felt like I was being pulled on much more roughly now from the back, and I immediately snapped back into reality, though the pleasant haze sat at the back of my mind as a constant reminder of my current state.
Mako was pulling at my clothing, and Ryuko was struggling to stop her. “No!”
“But maybe if you take him off then he’ll wake up again and want to be put back on so he can drink your blood again!”
A dramatic sigh. “It doesn’t work like that. He’s awake, I think. He’s just not responding. Now stop!” Somehow the little strip incident turned into a hugging fest, Mako encompassing both of us with her short arms. Tightly. The warmth and constriction almost sent me back into that lapse again. Was I really that sensitive to such innocuous gestures?
“Wake up Senketsu, we’re at school!” Mako tugged at my ties from around behind Ryuko. The pulling wasn’t as appreciated as before, uncomfortable and uneven.
“I’m awake, idiot! Stop, stop, Ryuko, tell her to stop!” was my outburst, and Ryuko snapped her head towards me before backing into Mako, causing her to stumble.
“See? He’s awake and talking again, so you can stop now!”
A pause, and then arms wrapped around us again.
“You can never have enough of Mako!”
The minutes ticked by like hours. Of course, time didn’t really have much of an effect on me when I was in semi-stasis. I was half conscious, vision blurred to cut out any distractions resulting from movement, senses dulled to where I wouldn’t have to be in a position to react at a moment’s notice, such as when in battle. Everything was a desensitised blur, though the heartbeat of my owner was a clear, solid presence amongst the glaze. It reminded me that Ryuko’s still here; still safe with me to protect her. I wasn’t sure how I could live by myself, silence engulfing me with its sterile presence, or even with the lack of blood to keep me warm.
I kept in time with the heartbeats, monitoring it as though something might come up that required my attention. The quiet urge to be needed by someone…
The stroking returned. The touch lightly trailed against my ties, gripping softly as though testing their firmness. I wondered if it could sense my trembling underneath its inspection, anticipating each new pet when the fingers left the bottom of my tie to start back at the top again. They pinched and twisted, but never with the intent to harm. I wondered if it realised that its touches were affecting me in a way I haven’t felt in a long time, since I was first put on by Ryuko and the sensations that came with it… We’d never been involved intimately, any more so than one can get with a Kamui during synchronisation. Her touches had never been anything more than benign, never trying to solicit a response that I may be embarrassed about or otherwise. Ryuko was probably stroking me now, absentmindedly, during her class. It couldn’t have been intentional as a way to make me feel unsettled.
The petting continued until it eventually reached the knot of my tie. It fumbled with it, as though trying to loosen it. I twitched, perturbed, unable to see what was going on. When the touches left the knot and moved to the hem of my lower half, I relaxed, once again content.
Among the lazy thoughts floating across my mind was one that had me focused: I’m not supposed to be this receptive to touches during a semi-stasis nap. Normally meaningless touches like this wouldn’t perk me up so much; they’d usually keep me sedated under the effects of sleep. I was slowly returning to full consciousness as the awareness that the itch was going to arrive, made itself known. It’d never appeared while I was in semi-stasis, but its drugging effect was making it hard for me to rise back to the waking world.
I could feel myself begin to constrict, a grating sensation sweeping across my fabric, and I could tell that it was making Ryuko uncomfortable from the way her heart rate quickened. My voice became a warbled groan as it hit me full blast, and I was unable to hold back the next constriction.
Ryuko’s heart rate hammered inside her chest, but that only excited me more. I could feel her curl into herself, every inch of her skin clinging to me. Available without any consequence that wasn’t worth this. I could feel her talking, but her words had no meaning to me at this moment. Afterwards, her grip tightened around something beneath us, and that grip caught the hem of my lower half. It crushed the clothing beneath it, sending mild shocks of pain that intermixed with the tingling pleasure I was getting from squeezing her.
Her thighs seemed to quiver the most, crossing to try to alleviate the pressure I was putting onto her groin. Naturally the whole body would placate me when I squeezed, but the area between her legs was hotter and more moist than any other region, and that satisfied me more. I knew I was twitching, I could feel it, but was powerless to stop it.
Maybe the vibrations were having an effect on her? Her core temperature was rising steadily, and sweat was beginning to form on her hot skin. Her breaths were more uneven and heavy. If it was an indication of anything, her exhibitionist tendencies were certainly showing here.
I could feel juices flowing from her groin, which settled into my clothing. I honestly didn’t mind, because it was part of her body, and what comes from her, I have grown to love. She spoke again, but it was a whisper, because no vibrations came from her chest. She must have been whispering to me, because she didn’t lean over to talk to anyone else. She was touching the inside of her thigh, slowly, as to not draw attention. Her fingers shifted nervously upward, her right leg lifting up to shield them from any lingering eyes. And then they touched her lips, only a thin piece of me acting as the barrier in between.
A finger pressed shyly against me and thus against the slit, the wet cloth a reminder of her tainted arousal from my actions. This intimate in a public area… while I did not mind in a public area, as I had no concept of true shame in regards to sexual endeavours, I was not sure how far Ryuko’s exhibitionist side was willing to go. Apparently from her prodding, pretty far.
It rubbed up and down, lightly at first, but gaining confidence as the seconds drew on. I could feel my own fibers between her wet lips, and we both shared the same desire as her body heat cranked itself up even more. While this could not venture further without her moving between I and her own flesh, she tried her best to make up for it. It was a discreet but rapid force that made me shutter. They pulled, probed, taunted, and stretched at the clothing there, all while satisfying herself at the same time. I couldn’t help but groan again, more clear this time. I still hadn’t woken from my semi-stasis, the itch keeping me locked in, but I don’t think I would have been able to restrain myself completely if I were fully awake.
We began to rock, grinding against both her fingers and the chair beneath us. It felt so good, the friction, and I didn’t want it to ever stop. It pulled against my stitching, bringing irritation that melted into static pleasure, causing me to hiss and squeeze.
I felt her freeze though, and right away, a sensation of disappointment, irritation, and neediness washed over me. The tornado siren of a bell shrieked, meaning her class session was over. I panicked slightly, worried about what would happen to Ryuko if she were discovered masturbating like a depraved animal in the middle of her classroom?
That worry was crushed as soon as I felt her moving, and that gave me some clarity back. The itching still the forefront of my attention, my squeezing made it difficult for her to maneuver out of the room and to wherever she headed. My grip grinded against her swollen lips with each step she took, making it an uncomfortable experience for her, though I didn’t mean to do that.
We dropped somewhere, and the cold that connected with my body instantly snapped me back into a full awake state.
But I didn’t have time to process where we were because she already had two fingers inside of her. I tensed up, shaking as much as her as she caressed her walls, slick from the fluids produced from this arousal. Her blood was hot, much like her frame, and it renewed my vigour. With wild abandon she twisted them, scissoring them, scratching without care. I could feel some of her fluids drip onto my fabric, and it heightened my senses even more.
I managed to grunt out her name, vibrating sporadically. I could smell her hormones, her sticky need to release. The fact that she didn’t mind getting off a sentient article of clothing was so appealing, as it was so her. I could hear her chanting my name like a mantra, semi-incoherent and breathy. Her muscles were tensing up, and I knew she was nearing the end of her little session here. Her movements became arrhythmic, one hand jerking up to swoop the hair out of her face before pinching at a nipple, tweaking it, and in turn, twisting the patch that used to contain my other eye. That area was incredibly sensitive, and I lashed out, constricting as hard as my frame could allow. It was without a doubt, the most sensitive area, and it left me unable to do anything but squeeze until the itch faded away.
I wasn’t left alone, though. During my tightening, she herself had tightened up, a still being for less than a second before she was writhing on whatever she was supported against, hips jerking up against her hand. A high cry tore itself from her throat, one that I’d never heard before from her, but one that was erotic nonetheless. I stored it in my memory; I would never forget that noise.
Slick lubricant drenched both her fingers and my lower half, warm when it first fell and then becoming cold moments later. She trembled for a few minutes, and then stilled. We basked in the afterglow, or what afterglow there could be in such a setting.
When I came to my senses, I found that we were in the demolished bathroom that Tsumugu Kinagase had tried to strip Ryuko in. Even though months had gone by, its condition remained stale, and had not been touched in an attempt to repair. Though curious as to why Satuski would not issue an order to repair it by now, I decided not to linger on that thought. Right now, the idle form of Ryuko was more important. Her heart rate was dwindling back to normal rates, though her breaths remained heavy.
Her hair cascaded in dark waves around her face, stuck to it in clumps. Her cheeks were flush red, and I saw her tongue dart out to wet shaky lips. Her eyelids fluttered as though she were trying to fight sleep.
Something flamed inside of me, a possessiveness that I’d not normally found when I looked at Ryuko in the past. I was satisfied that she had bent to her own urges, and that I helped her to achieve that.
A growl rumbled from me. She looked perfect.