Friday, June 19th, 2009
Anyone who knew the kids living the Iwatodai dorm had some matter of opinion about them.
Some thought they were just a gaggle of misfits, living together out of necessity and ignoring one another whenever possible. There was just no way that people with such vastly different personalities as Junpei Iori and Akihiko Sanada would live together willingly and enjoy it, was there?
Others thought they were as close as war buddies, given their interactions at Gekkoukan, unknowingly right on the money, even if they could never guess the nature of their war. Whenever someone looked at Yukari Takeba and her new friend, her underclassman Fuuka Yamagishi, it was easy to see the bonds of friendship that formed between them.
But no matter what people thought of the students, there was one thing everyone could agree on about the Iwatodai dorm: Whatever semblance of order existed in the dormitory, it came from the hands of Mitsuru Kirijo.
Everyone knew of the imposing heiress to the Kirijo zaibatsu and student council president of Gekkoukan High School, even if they didn’t know the full extent of her responsibilities. Even Hamuko Arisato, the brunette who transferred to Gekkoukan back in April was immediately shaken by the authority of her presence, then shaken again by her senpai’s beauty and sophistication the second she laid eyes on her for the first time. But as the time passed, Mitsuru took a liking to her, first for her abilities, then simply out of respect, trusting the newcomer enough to let her act as field leader of their secret Shadow-fighting organization. She even earned a seat in the student council, even if it was so Kirijo could keep an eye on her.
But regardless of that fact, anyone in the student council room with them could see the trust and respect in Mitsuru’s eyes whenever she spoke to Hamuko. What they couldn’t see, were the thoughts inside of Hamuko’s mind at the moment.
‘God I wish I could grab Mitsuru by the hair and make her eat my cunt, give the bitch something useful to do with her mouth.’
Deep down Hamuko was envious of her senpai, in more ways than one. She envied the respect the heiress got from everyone, particularly from her fellow S.E.E.S. members. Hamuko was the one who led the team up the distorted floors of Tartarus, fighting through piles of monsters while prim and proper Mitsuru stood in the entrance, barking orders while sipping some tea or fingering herself - in Arisato’s thoughts, at least, an image she would definitely save for later use - at least until Fuuka joined and she had no more excuses to leave the heavy lifting to others.
Hamuko was the one who procured supplies and equipment for the team, with her own money no less! She literally lived, studied and worked with an actual billionaire and she couldn’t get a single yen for shadow-extermination purposes. Yeah she earned buckets of money from the defeated shadows, but that was beside the point. She was the one keeping her team alive in the battlefield, and yet Mitsuru Kirijo was the one treated like a queen.
And that was undoubtedly the greatest source of her envy. Every single student in Gekkoukan held some level of admiration for Mitsuru Kirijo. And for good reason, Mitsuru Kirijo was an impressive young woman. The president of the Gekkoukan high school student council was beautiful, intelligent, and had an imposing, almost intimidating presence, one most would think impossible to come from a 17-year old, even if said 17-year old was the heiress to the largest company in Japan, trained from birth to debate, argue, and even fight her way to success. Even if at the present time, success meant simple preparations to the school festival, an event three months away. Mitsuru Kirijo was also extremely organized and dedicated.
Oh how Hamuko longed to be looked at like that! To be seen with respect, admiration, and love! And she knew exactly who she wanted to look at her in such manner.
Fuuka Yamagishi, the shy, reserved, adorable underclassman with cyan hair.
Yukari Takeba, the beautiful, charming brunette her gaze often wandered to in class.
And of course, the one, the only, Mitsuru Kirijo.
Hamuko Arisato fantasized about her friends and teammates, at night, in the comfort and privacy of her soundproofed room. They were sordid affairs, where affectionate, loving glances were replaced by lust-addled glares. And while effective, she knew they would forever remain fantasies. Unless she did something. Unless she usurped Mitsuru of her throne and seduced her female teammates. But how would she go about this?
Loathe as she was to say it, the transfer student couldn’t exactly beat the heiress into submission. Mitsuru was quite the fencer, not to mention she always had a sword with her. Probably so she could shove the hilt up her ass - another pleasant image Arisato would save for later - Regardless, Hamuko stood no chance of beating Mitsuru, and even if she did, it’s not like the girls would turn their gazes to her instead. Oh if only it were that simple.
“What do you think, Arisato-san?”
She was awoken from her fantasies by the very protagonist of them, a harsh reminder that she was still in a boring student council meeting.
“I think that’s a great idea, if we have the budget for it.” She replied, hoping no one noticed the peek she took of Chihiro’s notes.
“Hmm. That is true. How is our budget, Fushimi-san?” Mitsuru asked.
“Well, we should have enough for everything we need once the cuts are applied.” replied the shy, mousy treasurer who also made a few special appearances in Hamuko’s fantasies. She would be an absolute treasure to dominate.
“Right, the budget cuts…” Hamuko said, half-stating and half-grumbling. It wasn’t a substantial cut, but the cut to the tennis club’s budget stung nonetheless Regardless, now the whole team had to find a way to supplement their budget. Maybe a bake sale?
Right before Hamuko’s ideas led to her fantasizing about Yuko dressed only in an apron and Rio served on a platter like a pig at a banquet for all present to enjoy - complete with an apple in her mouth - Mitsuru continued the conversation.
“I’m sorry Arisato-san, but your club has not performed up to the standards. The cut is justified.” Mitsuru reminded.
“Yes, I understand Kirijo-senpai.” Hamuko replied, hiding the annoyance in her voice, though adding under her breath “Rio is right, club’s full of slackers.”
“Trés bien, unless someone else has another matter to discuss, the meeting is adjourned. Have a good afternoon.” The president said, followed by the students getting up from their chairs and saying their goodbyes, until the room was empty, save for the two S.E.E.S. members.
“Will you head to the dorms, Arisato-san?” Asked Mitsuru, packing her notes into a briefcase.
“Not right now. I have some time to spare, so I think I’ll head to the mall and see if I can get some new stuff for our club, know what I’m saying?” Hamuko answered, stretching after a long - in her mind anyways - meeting.
“Hmm, I see. Well in that case, I hope your efforts bear fruit. Stay safe.” Mitsuru said, and with a wave and a goodbye, left. Leaving Hamuko Arisato alone. Just the girl and her fantasies. Until she packed up her own things and left.
Hamuko’s efforts did not bear fruit, only seeds. Their contact with the police had nothing worthwhile, and the drugstore was having a sale next weekend so she would wait for that, leaving only the antique shop, the mysterious establishment that could imbue items with the powers of Personas, turning them into powerful weapons. She ordered a new bow for Yukari, hoping that would fix her little accuracy problem. Oh well, at least she had some good spells up her arsenal.
And she was cute as hell. Especially bent over her knee.
*smack* “One! I'm sorry for being such a bad archer, Mistress! Will you please punish me more?”
Yukari was bent over her Mistress’ lap, dressed in the high-cut armor Mistress Hamuko bought for her the other week - not to be actually worn as armor, more like exotic lingerie - along with a pink leather collar as the transfer student sat on the edge of her bed. Arisato herself was dressed like a true dominatrix, black leather corset with a silver XXII sewn into the front, right beneath her breasts, - which alongside her pussy were exposed to the night air - black opera gloves reaching up to her elbows and black leather heeled boots reaching past her knees. Her chestnut hair was undone, coming down in waves to the middle of her back, with a few strands over her shoulders.
*smack* "Thirteen! I'm sorry for being such a bad archer, Mistress! Will you please punish me more?”
They had gone to Tartarus the previous day, and though they spent what felt like hours climbing the tower, leaving the den of Shadows battered and bruised, S.E.E.S. had achieved less than ideal results.
*smack* “Hmnh, t-twenty-four! I'm so sorry for being such a bad archer, Mistress! Will you please punish me more?”
Partly because Yukari was simply not having a good day, missing a substantial amount of her shots. Some inconsequential, some critical.
*SMACK* “AHH, th-thirty-five! I'm so sorry for being such a shitty archer.. Mistress! Will you please spank me more?!”
So she decided to punish Yukari, removing the heads of half a dozen of her arrows and bundling them up to use like a makeshift paddle. Then proceeding to give Takeba’s round, bouncy ass one swing for each miss.
*SMACK* "AARGH FUCK! Forty, huh, eight! Please forgive m-"
Hamuko grabbed Yukari by the hair, bringing her head up level to her own, and forcing her into a kiss, her tongue invading the archer's mouth. Yukari quickly reciprocated, allowing Arisato's tongue passage as she basked in this glorious moment of relief. She had done it. She had endured her Mistress' punishment, shamefully recounted every single shot she missed, every single time she let her team and most importantly, her Mistress, down.
"That." Hamuko said after the kiss, accompanied by a quick slap on Yukari's cheek.
"Was number forty-nine. You were so close too."
"NO! Hamuko-sama I'm sorry! Please, it won't happen again!" Yukari's eyes widened in fear of the retaliation in store for her. "I'm begging you, don't make me start from the beginning, I'll do anything!"
But instead of bending the archer over her knee again and starting the punishment anew, Hamuko tossed Yukari over to the bed, making her groan as she landed on her ass. Even the soft mattress of her Mistress' bed was of no help to soothe her pain.
"Oh you will, Takeba." Hamuko said, standing up and tossing the bundle of arrow shafts to Yukari. "But since you managed to make it past the halfway mark, I will be a good Mistress and give you a little break. Feel free to fuck yourself with those while I check up on the other girls." Arisato turned on her heel, leaving behind Yukari as she voiced her gratitude to her kind Mistress, amidst the pleasured moans and the sounds of the shafts rapidly going in and out of the archer's cunt, violently shoving them in an attempt to get as much pleasure as possible before her Mistress' inevitable return.
Heels clacking on the floor, the field leader of S.E.E.S. made her way to a nearby wooden chair, stopping just short of the puddle beneath it. She looked down at the dripping juices, falling from the chair and hitting the ground with sounds lost amidst the moans of their owner. She saw the girl's legs, cuffed to the legs of the chair, dainty toes curling in pleasure and sweat dripping down them to add to the collection beneath the seat.
The transfer student slowly looked up, past the free hand furiously masturbating, tired, twitchy, almost random motions selling out the exhaustion of the girl commanding it. A quick glance to the side showed the other hand was cuffed to the arm of the chair, gripping it violently.
Finally, Hamuko Arisato continued moving her gaze upward journey once again, past the sweat-drenched stomach and the heaving, petite breasts, stopping for a second to admire the cyan collar around the girl's neck, before landing her gaze on the enraptured, tortured, exhausted face of Fuuka Yamagishi.
"How many times did you get off so far, Fuuka?" Arisato asked, reaching out to carefully remove a few strands of hair stuck to the cook's face. "Two? Three?"
"F-five, Hamuko-sama." The cyan-haired girl said, not even bothering to hide the exhaustion on her voice. "I've had five... o-orgasms... since you locked.. me here, Mistress."
"Five! Impressive. You sure work hard when you want to." The brunette said, a mocking tone of amazement in her voice, before quickly pinching both of the girl's nipples, twisting them hard. "It's a shame you don't want to when we're in Tartarus, waist-deep in monsters, while you're jilling yourself in the entrance instead of paying fucking attention to our surroundings!"
"AAHH! I'M REALLY SORRY HAMUKO-SAMA! IT WON'T HAPPEN AGAIN I SWEAR!" Fuuka yelled, feeling the pain radiating from her chest give her a shot of energy as she continued fingering herself, afraid to stop even under such circumstances.
"Damn right it won't!" Hamuko said, releasing the sitting girl's nipples, silently impressed by the overseer's dedication to her punishment. She could see the girl's hand, moving frantically in and out, almost shoved in its entirety. "Because now, you're going to cum one time for every ambush we took before the hour is over, or you're not leaving that chair! Am I understood, you horny bitch?"
"Yes Mistress, I understand! I'm sorry I'm such a horny bitch!" The cyan-haired student said, tears forming in her eyes in shame and pain, of disappointing the woman she loved.
With a sigh, she knelt down in front of Fuuka, being careful not to step on the puddle, and removed a small key she had placed inside one of her gloves.
"Stop for a second and look at me, Fuuka." Hamuko said, in a low, caring tone, as she placed a finger on the cook's face, wiping off the moisture beginning to form beneath her eyes. "Do you understand why you're being punished?"
"Y-yes, Mistress. I was.. pleasuring myself when I should have been watching out for the team." Fuuka said, taking deep breaths to regain her strength.
"That's right. We were ambushed eight times because you weren't paying attention." Arisato said, lightly caressing the sitting girl's face. “I know sometimes it seems like we can hold our own, that were just making our way up Tartarus without breaking a sweat, but there’s a reason for that. It’s because we have you watching our backs, Fuuka. I know that you think sometimes that your abilities aren’t helpful to us, but they are the reason we’ve made it so far. So we need you to focus when we’re going up the tower, it may seem like you can just take some time off for yourself, that we will be fine without you, but that’s not the case. Everyone needs to pull their weight. It doesn't matter if it's because you're horny or tired or whatever. The team is counting on you. I am counting on you. Got it, sweetie?"
"Got it. I-I mean, understood, Mistress, I promise I'll pay attention next time!" Fuuka said, blushing deeply and panting heavily. "I learned my lesson, I promise I'll, be good, so I'm begging you, can you please let me go, Hamuko-sama?"
Hamuko said nothing, only looking at the girl in front of her with a neutral look on her face, before unlocking Fuuka's other arm, watching as the girl began rubbing her bound wrist.
"You have two options." The Mistress said, standing up, overshadowing the imprisoned student. "One, you continue with your punishment until you cum eight times. I'm even being generous enough to let you use your other hand, as well as not increasing the amount or adding a time limit on you for daring to ask such a stupid question."
Hamuko then held up the key to the cuffs in front of Fuuka's face, still maintaining her serious tone and blank expression, watching the young cook squirm and shiver in her seat.
"Or two. You unlock the cuffs on your legs, and leave. You take a shower, or just go to bed, or cook something, or whatever. But I promise you. If you do decide to leave..." Arisato said, slowly inching closer and closer to the overseer's face. "...I will be VERY disappointed in you."
She then tossed the key at the restrained girl, who scrambled to secure it before it fell on the floor. She looked at it, and pondered the choices her Mistress gave her, almost making out her own reflection in the shiny surface. Her own, exhausted, sweating, blushing, reflection. She knew what was the right thing to do.
And in one motion, placed the key in her mouth and swallowed it, lightly rubbing her throat as the metallic object passed by, and opening her mouth to show her tongue, like a child whose parent made them swallow bitter medicine.
"Good girl." Hamuko said with a grin on her face, leaning in to give Fuuka a quick kiss on the forehead, followed by another one her nose, before making out with her in earnest, pushing her tongue against the cook's mouth, demanding entrance.
"You..." The cyan-haired girl said, panting, after Hamuko broke up the kiss. "Your tongue definitely tastes better than the key, Hamuko-sama."
"I would hope so." The transfer student replied with a small chuckle. "Now, you still owe me three orgasms, so get to it, ya slut."
"Yes Mistress!" Fuuka excitedly proclaimed, moving her newly-freed hand down to her pussy to pick up where its twin left off, while her other arm moved up to her breasts, lightly caressing them and pinching her nipples.
The S.E.E.S. field leader took in the sight of the girl in front of her, fresh juices already running down her legs and adding to the puddle on the floor. She smiled at the cook's enthusiasm, her own cunt moistening at the thought of Fuuka choosing to remain locked up forever only to please her Mistress.
It didn't matter that Hamuko had another key. The message was sent.
She turned around and made her way to the last girl in the room, only passing a quick glance to Yukari, who had broken up the bundle of sticks, alternating between shoving four in her cunt and two up her asshole, tongue sticking out and face contorted in pleasure. 'I don't remember telling her to do that.' Hamuko thought, cooking up a punishment for the archer. Maybe she would tie a bowstring around her nipples and send her to class like that...
Deciding to leave the task of coming up for a punishment for Yukari for another time, Hamuko continued on her way to the last girl in the room, walking past several torn scraps of clothing, a pair of boots and a discarded Evoker before reaching her destination.
The girl in front of her was an absolute mess. The long pencil skirt she normally wore had been cut and torn into a long scrap of cloth, one end wrapped around the end of her long, voluptuous red hair and the other connected to the ceiling. Not by a knot or hook, but instead encased in a thick layer of ice, securing it as well as any other tool could, but leaving enough room on the cloth to allow her to bend over at the waist, keeping her chest parallel to the floor, as was ordered by her Mistress.
Her fancy white blouse was also gone, and instead she wore its tatters. One sleeve was wrapped around her eyes, keeping her in the dark as she was made to imagine the distress her slave sisters were enduring. The other was wrapping around her mouth, though that didn't do much to contain the sounds of her moans and cries of pleasure. Part of the remaining fabric was torn into several straps and wrapped around her hands, a small mercy provided for her by Mistress, making it easier for her to hold the metal bucket full of freezing water in which she was made to submerge her full, heavy tits. She could feel how painfully hard her nipples were, and all she wanted was to cast aside the cold bucket and play with her extremely sensitive breasts. But she couldn't, not until Mistress Arisato allowed.
Her legs were spread wide, the rest of the torn fabric of her expensive blouse wrapped around her ankles, the other ends frozen into the ground not unlike the rag that was once her designer skirt, only much tighter, leaving no room for her legs to move, and exposing her puckered asshole and dripping pussy to the cold air.
Having circled around the blindfolded slave to admire her ragged mess, including the burgundy collar around her neck and the surprise she planted on the floor between her spread legs, Hamuko Arisato in front of Mitsuru Kirijo's face, contorted in pain and pleasure, and made her presence known.
"Oh the wonders of ice spells. Does the cold hurt, Mitsuru?" Hamuko asked, dipping two fingers into the ice-cold water and running them over one of her slave's shaved armpits, causing her to scream in surprise as she tightened her grip on the bucket.
"Y-yish, M-M-Mishtrhs!!" The heiress replied, knowing that the gag in her mouth would not serve as an excuse to keep quiet when her Mistress expected an answer. While listening to Mitsuru's imposing voice reduced to a garbled mess would never get old for Hamuko, the brunette reached down and undid the gag around her slave's mouth, dropping the rag in the bucket. She then reached into the redhead's mouth to remove the slave's S.E.E.S. armband that was shoved in there earlier, and tossed it over her shoulder, missing Yukari by only a couple of feet.
"Right? The feeling of the cold, spreading over your skin, setting your nerves, oddly enough, on fire...” The domme said with a light chuckle, picking up the rag she had thrown into the bucket, before twisting it over Mitsuru’s back, the freezing droplets causing the redhead to tighten her grip on the vessel and bite her lip to stifle a scream, as her cunt dripped more and more. “Can you imagine what something like this would do to a Shadow?” Arisato continued, again dipping the rag she held in the icy water and pouring it all over Mitsuru’s back and ass, a few drops running down her lower curves, over her twitching holes. “Maybe if you stopped casting your stupid Marin Karin spells and froze some of the fucking things, you would know, wouldn’t you?”
“Yes Mistress! I’m sorry Mistress! I promise to be a better fighter for you, Arisato-sama!” Mitsuru answered, her pussy leaking like a tap, and cold sweat spreading over her body.
“Oh you will be sorry.” The brunette Mistress replied ominously, slapping Mitsuru’s ass with the rag before ripping off the makeshift blindfold from over her slave’s eyes. “I will show you just how sorry you will be.”
With that statement, Hamuko took the bucket from Mitsuru, who shivered and gasped in the sudden change in temperature of her tits, glistening with cold water and nipples harder than she ever felt them before. Before she could adjust however, Hamuko tore the fabric holding her hair to the ceiling, still leaving the end wrapped around her burgundy locks intact - a handy leash to grab her bitch's attention - and turned her head back, leading the slave’s gaze to the punishment she had placed on the floor in between her spread legs.
“W-what..?” Mitsuru mumbled, stunned by the appearance of a frozen stalagmite in between her legs, the tip a few inches from her moist slit. “When did that get there?”
“Oh I just cast a little Bufu spell on the floor while you were dunking your tits on ice. Figured that would keep your attention.” The field leader answered, removing the wraps from Mitsuru’s palms and wrapping them around the slave’s wrists, binding them behind her back. “But that was just a little icy bump on the ground. The rest, well...” Hamuko continued, swiping a few fingers over the icicle, then placing them on the heiress’ tongue. “See if you can spot it.” Taking that as a permission, Mitsuru closed her mouth around her Mistress’ digits, lapping them up and savoring the taste. The taste she grew very familiar with.
“It’s..!” Mitsuru spat out, eyes widening at the realization of what she had just tasted. “That’s my… my..!”
“Yep! I really wanted to make sure you learned your lesson, so here’s a way ice can be really painful to someone.” The brunette explained, wiping the fingers Mitsuru had licked on the slave’s hair. “And I guess I could have just made a full icicle with a more powerful spell, but that was nowhere near as fun as watching you make it grow with every drop of your cum.”
While Mitsuru was distracted by the idea of leaking enough cum to build a waist-high icicle - an idea that only made her juices drip all the more - her Mistress grabbed her by the hair, breaking her out of her daze and forcing the slave’s gaze squarely onto her.
“Here’s the deal. You are going to sit on that giant ice dildo, Kirijo, and drop your pussy in it, over and over and over again until that thing melts and your cunt hits the floor... either that or until you pass out. Only then will you be free to go. Do I make myself clear, Mitsuru?”
“Yes Hamuko-sama, I understand.” The redhead replied with certainty in her tone, ready to overcome any punishment her Mistress came up for her. She would make her superior proud, no matter how humiliating or daunting the task ahead was.
With that, Arisato released her grip on Mitsuru’s locks, taking a couple of steps back to fully view the full splendor of Mitsuru Kirijo, heiress to the legendary Kirijo zaibatsu, and respected president of the student council, naked, bound in the rags of her once fine designer clothes, and standing over an icy stalagmite of her own sexual fluids.
Mitsuru, readying herself, looked down at the floor, her gaze eventually landing on the glowing blue ice shard at the bottom of the icicle, the original freezing spell cast by her Mistress to punish her for her mistakes in combat.
“Oh, and Mitsuru?”
Before she could even react to her Mistress’ inquiry, the redhead was splashed in the face and chest with the freezing water on the bucket her tits had been submerged in. Gasping at the cold feeling, heaving at the hardening of her nipples and goosebumps in her skin, her quivering legs gave out and she fell, impaling her pussy on the ice-solid dildo, throwing her head back and screaming as the rough icicle penetrated her folds, hitting her deep in the cervix and making her squirt immediately.
“Stay frosty.” The brunette said, picking up one of the white scraps of fabric on the floor and tying it around the slave’s mouth once again, then giving the redhead a quick kiss on her clothed mouth before placing the bucket over her head. Hamuko eyed her handiwork, looking at the sight of the humiliated, now faceless heiress and feeling her own pussy moistening all the more.
Mitsuru, on the other hand, rode out the waves of her orgasm, shouting into the cloth gag in her mouth. When she came to her senses, she found herself bound, gagged, and blinded once again, only now she couldn’t hear anything short of a scream. Even her nose betrayed her, the chilly, damp air around her all she could sense. Only her sense of touch truly remained intact, for better or worse. All she could feel was the cold water, running down her sensitive breasts and taut stomach, her burgundy hair matted to her face, the tight restraints around her wrists, ankles and neck, not to forget the icy dildo embedded deep into her cunt.
Slowly pushing past the shivering sensations to regain her composure, Mitsuru steadied herself, planting her feet on the ground to stabilize herself, gasping at the friction of the rough dildo inside her. She slowly raised up, legs quivering at the freezing sensations overwhelming her, until just the tip stood inside her tunnel, and took deep breaths, readying herself for the humiliating, daunting, and endless punishment.
When Mitsuru saw the magical shard of ice on the floor, the spell she unknowingly helped feed with her juices, its mesmerizing glow dancing over her eyes and its dizzying cold filling her insides, she remembered her Mistress’ words, and quickly realized something.
‘You are going to sit on that giant ice dildo, Kirijo, and drop your pussy in it, over and over and over again until that thing melts and your cunt hits the floor... either that or until you pass out.’
‘Arisato-sama didn’t break the spell.’
Even as the thought raced through her mind she felt her cum adding to the icicle as soon as it came into contact, the frozen stalagmite growing and thickening inside her cunt, pushing even deeper inside her as she gasped at the sensations. And those sensations only made her leak all the more.
‘If I can’t melt it, then I simply have to take the other alternative.’
With that thought, she relented, letting out a deep, muffled sigh before lowering herself onto the frozen torture device, shouting out in pained pleasure as it hit deep inside her once again. She continued lowering herself, her legs straining to both maintain her balance and keep up their strength, as she took as much of the icicle inside her tunnel as she could, pushing through the uncanny feeling of such a chilly object entering her otherwise warm cunt.
‘Look at you, Mitsuru.’ Hamuko thought as she saw her redheaded slave bottoming out on the rough, misshapen stalagmite. ‘You obviously figured out that the thing isn’t melting any time soon, yet you went through with your punishment anyway, knowing you’re gonna be masturbating till you pass out. You’ve come so far!’ Making the motions of wiping a tear from her eye, the Mistress paced over to a plush chair in the back of the room. She sat upon her throne, one hand caressing her pussy lips while the other fondled her breasts, overlooking all of her slaves, thinking back on how far they all came under her command, as they moaned and screamed in pleasure.
Yukari Takeba, once a proud, popular student, now a quivering mess dressed in impossibly lewd armor, alternating between shoving arrow shafts inside her tight teenage holes and licking them clean, trying to get as much pleasure as possible before her Mistress returned to continue her spanking session, the archer’s ass still bearing a sore, painful shade of crimson.
Fuuka Yamagishi, once a shy young girl with no self confidence, now had her legs cuffed to the chair she occupied, furiously masturbating, hoping beyond hope to achieve her sixth orgasm of the night, trying to maintain the second wind she obtained when her Mistress kindly released one of her arms, the puddle beneath the cook now a small pool of sweat and cum.
Mitsuru Kirijo, once the intelligent, proud heiress to the largest conglomerate in all of Japan, now bound in the tatters of her own clothes and deprived of nearly all senses, impaling herself on a magic icicle of her own sexual fluids, bouncing up and down, knowing that no matter for how long she masturbated, or no matter how many orgasms she had, that she would not be released until losing consciousness, and loving the prospect.
“CUM FOR ME, SLAVES!” Mistress Arisato shouted for all her girls to hear, nearing an orgasm of her own. “YOUR GODDESS COMMANDS IT..!”
“...SO IT IS LAW!” The S.E.E.S. girls replied in unison, through pants, moans, screams and gags, the mantra their Mistress taught them when she so graciously took them under her tutelage, teaching them the pleasures of sex and training them in the ways of submission. And just as their Mistress commanded, the slaves continued their own ministrations with renewed vigor.
And Yukari came.
And Fuuka came.
And Mitsuru came.
But Hamuko didn’t.
“GODDAMMIT!” Hamuko shouted, slamming her fist on the wall next to her bed, panting heavily in frustration as she failed once again to reach her climax, as she laid alone and naked on her bed in her thankfully soundproofed room in the Iwatodai dorm, her clothes and covers cast aside in the hot June night. She raised her hands to her face, one grasping her temples, the other ones bringing what juices it could get from her pussy to her mouth, trying to savor as much as she could from another failed masturbation session.
‘Again...’ She thought, taking her digits into her mouth and savoring her essence. ‘I couldn’t cum again… These past few weeks have been so exhausting, and it’s too damn hot!’ She turned to her side, looking at the alarm clock on her bedside table to find it turn off in front of her before she could look at the time, which, much like the dying whirls of her fan, was a telltale sign of the arrival of the Dark Hour.
“Great... now we have no power.” The brunette spoke to no one in between breaths, regaining her composure as she decided on whether to try and sleep or whether to try her hands on another round of self pleasure. She did get one great view at Yuko’s ass when the tanned girl bent over to pick up some equipment the other day, maybe she could work with that…
“Fuck it.” She said as she lightly slapped the sides of her face and rose from the bed, bare feet touching the surprisingly cool floor. “It’s too hot, I need something to drink.” She put on the only outfit in the vicinity of her tired, sleep-addled and frustrated self, ending up with a strawberry red pajama top and short white shorts, deciding to forego underwear because she just couldn’t be bothered with it at the moment.
After dressing up, she left her room and made her way down to the kitchen, grumbling to herself once more about the weather as she tried to decide on getting a glass of juice or some milk. Tea would take too long, and coffee was out of the question. She was broken out of her stupor however, when she entered the kitchen and heard a noise.
The field leader’s eyes shot open, and she turned to the source of the noise, only to find little Fuuka by the counter, with an assortment of utensils and ingredients in front of her. The cook’s eyes darted around the kitchen and her arms failed to stay in one place for more than two seconds, making her look like a kid caught with their hand in the cooking jar trying to come up with an excuse for their parent.
“Fuuka-chan? Are you OK?” Hamuko asked, closing the distance between the two. The blunette was clearly going to cook something, though why she’d do so during the Dark Hour of all times was beyond her. “Whatcha got there?”
“O-OH It’s nothing, Hamuko-senpai I’m fine!” Fuuka stammered out, sweat rolling down her face, though out of nervousness or due to the natural heat of June was unclear. “It’s just… I, uh, I just couldn’t sleep, so I came for a drink is all!”
“Oh really? What a coincidence, that’s exactly why I’m here too!” The brunette answered in feigned surprise. She could tell Fuuka was up to something. “Though usually when someone wants a drink in the middle of the night, they just get a glass of milk, they don’t make a cake to go with it.” She pointed at the pile of ingredients as she said that, causing Fuuka to stammer some more before releasing a defeated sigh.
“Alright, fine. I didn’t come here for a drink.” The underclasswoman answered, face blushing as she looked at the ground. “...Do you promise not to laugh?”
“Of course I do, Fuuka-chan. Please, go ahead.” Hamuko said, admittedly a bit shocked to think Fuuka would assume such a thing of her.
“Well, ever since I joined the team, I tried to find a way to help you guys more, since I can’t fight with you.” Fuuka explained, her blushing face looking down at the ground.
“Fuuka-chan...” The brunette sighed, taking a few more steps toward the cyan-haired cook. “You don’t need to do that. Your abilities are already a huge help to us.”
“I know, you’ve already said that before, but it’s just… I feel like I can still do more. I WANT to do more!” Fuuka admitted, finally looking up at her senpai, eyes filled with surprising determination, boring into the brunette’s own. The more Hamuko stared into those eyes, the more she remembered why she liked the younger girl so much.
“Alright then.” The brunette relented, sighing as she crossed her arms in front of her chest. “I can see you’re not going to back down on this. In that case, mind telling me what you came up with?”
“Well, I had this idea when you told me about that shop the other day. You know, the one that sells us weapons fused with Personas?” The cook explained, to which Arisato responded with a simple nod. “When you told me about that, I thought that, maybe if Persona powers can be used to empower our equipment, maybe I can use some spells on my food!”
“That… is a massive leap of logic, Fuuka-chan.” Hamuko replied, a bit astonished by the blunette’s plan. “First, the stuff I give to the shop isn’t just hit with a spell, it’s imbued with a whole Persona. It’s only possible because I have an elevator's space worth of those things. Not to mention that I don’t actually know how it’s done, that woman keeps her methods under lock and key. And besides that, what exactly are you going to do with your magical food?”
“I… don’t really know actually.” Fuuka replied, a disappointed tone creeping into her voice. “I thought I could make some homemade medicine or something like that, you know, like the stuff from old RPGs. Like healing cookies!”
Hearing the cook’s ideas, Hamuko put a hand under her chin, thinking on them as she made her way over to the fridge, - one of the few appliances in the dorm modified to function during the Dark Hour – and picked herself a glass of milk, sipping it as she pondered over the application of magically-infused medicinal foodstuffs.
“You know, it would save us some good medicine money.” The leader said, finishing her pint of milk and cleaning the glass on the sink. “Oh why not. I think it’s worth a shot.”
“Really? Oh thank you Hamuko-senpai!” The cook responded, ecstatic.
“Yeah, if it works, it could be really helpful. If not, the worst that could happen is we waste some flour and eggs.” The brunette affirmed, admiring the younger girl’s energy as she picked up a cloth to dry the glass. “So, what’s the recipe, Fuuka-chan?” She asked, only to be met with a sight of Fuuka sheepishly looking at the ground, rubbing the back of her head.
“Well, you see...” The cook said, trying to formulate a response. “I thought of casting the healing spell during different parts of the cooking process, to see what gets the best results, maybe doing it on the raw dough, or while they’re in the oven, or after they’re done. But the thing is...”
“You can’t cast healing spells.”
“...I can’t cast healing spells.”
“Well, it’s a good thing I’m here then!” Hamuko said in a chipper tone, placing her glass back where she found it. She then turned around to see the underclasswoman, now sitting on the desk with her head hanging low. “What’s wrong?”
“Oh, nothing!” The cook replied, though that only earned a stern look from her senpai. “It’s just, I wanted to help everyone with these cookies, but I can’t even do that. Not that I don’t want your help, it’s just that...”
“You wanted to do it by yourself, without having to depend on anyone.” Hamuko concluded, reading the younger girl like an open book. She only responded with a slow nod. “Fuuka-chan, there is nothing wrong with accepting help from others when you need it.” The brunette said, closing the distance between the two. “Besides, you’re the one who came up with the idea, and you’re the one who actually knows how to cook. I’m just going to… provide the heavy lifting, shall we say. Now, I’m going to go to my room and pick up my Evoker, so just get started on that dough and we’ll get these healing cookies ready in no time, OK?”
“..OK. I’ll do it.” The blunette answered, picking up her spirits and moving over to the counter as Hamuko turned to leave for her summoning device. “Oh, Hamuko-senpai?”
‘Such a sweet girl.’ Arisato mused when leaving the kitchen, finding herself alone with her thoughts once again, not entirely saddened by the fact that her rest would have to wait. ‘But it is an idea worth exploring. I wonder if it could work with other types of magic, like protection spells or ailme-’
She froze to a halt as an idea of her own blossomed. Her eyes widened in realization, her breath caught in her throat as a hypothesis began to formulate in her mind, and before she knew, she had it.
‘Mitsuru’s spell… The charm spell… Marin Karin...’
She resumed her trek to her room, only now her steps turned into strides, moving as fast as she could to the location of her Evoker. Nearly throwing the door off its hinges as she opened the entrance to her quarters, she began her search of the fake firearm, tossing aside her clothes and throwing open drawers and closet doors, until she found it, simply laying on her desk.
Her hand quivered as she grabbed it, breathing rapidly as the implications came to the forefront of her mind. She was so close. It was a long shot, a mile long shot, but if this worked, it would change everything. She would finally have Fuuka, Yukari, and Mitsuru at her feet.
She would finally become the Queen of S.E.E.S.