"Hot Hentai Nights"
by Furor Scribendi
2009 Scribendi Productions
September 29th
Suguru awoke with a start.
SPLURT!
Not again, he thought. He closed his eyes tight and clenched his teeth as his body was wracked with spasms. It was too late to do anything about it, so he had to let the events take their course. But it seemed to be taking forever to complete. He was filled with twin feelings of agony and ecstasy. Stop! Just stop! He pleaded with himself, but one could never argue with nature, as all these sensations washed over him like a burst dam.
Finally, after an eternity of activity, things calmed down. He flung open the bed covering and lay there in the dark. He looked over to the clock. 2:30 am. Last night, it happened at 2:15. He gathered his wits. He knew what came next, but he didn't want to address it. His right hand slowly crept to the waistband of his pajama bottoms, as he was hoping things were not as bad as they felt from this side.
Holding at the threshold, stroking the elastic demarcation line of north and south with his index finger, he extended his little finger past the border and down inside to…oh, yeah. This one was a bigger mess than last night's and that one was a veritable pond of problems. What was the current record? Three times in four nights. What was going on?
Sighing, he fumbled for his glasses with his left hand and slowly got up. His other hand grasped his crotch area, holding it all in place, as he negotiated the dark room. At least the place was clean; he did not have to worry about crashing over debris or getting lost in a sea of fast food containers strewn about.
He gingerly opened a dresser drawer to look for another pair of pajamas. Oh, no! He did not pick up his wash, so they were still down in the laundry room. All he had was a super, ultra-emergency pair, but they were a few years old, so not only would they be smaller, they had a design of airplanes on them. Well, beggars can't be choosers.
Grabbing the change of clothes, he padded to his door and drifted it open ever so quietly. His listened intensely, but no sound could be heard. He made his way to the bathroom, closing that door. She shut one eye as he turned on the lights. Peeling off his soiled garments, he took a quick bath. He really soaped up that area and rinsed it down a few times, then vigorously dried it. He was having problems keeping that one eye closed the whole time, but he needed that to happen.
He got into the pajamas, but they were a bit on the snug side; the cuffs also ended up high on his ankles, as if he was ready for a flood. He had to wash both halves of his pajamas, as it would look odd that only the bottoms were in the machine. Bundling up the old pajamas and the towel, he straightened up the bathroom and turned off the light.
Opening up his other eye, he was now acclimated to the dark, so he could head downstairs with no troubles or hesitations. He learned that trick on TV, as that was why pirates wore an eye patch, even if they had two good eyes: one eye was already ready to go from a bright environment to a dark one without loss of perception and to be ready to fend off an attack.
He walked near the wall, so he would not squeak any of the steps themselves. That's all he needed: Mahoro to catch him. He just did not want to explain what he was doing up as such an early time. "Gosh, Mahoro, my pajamas were feeling creepy, so I got up in the dead of night to give them a quick wash, so I could go to bed in a refreshed state." That tale was weak by anyone's standards.
At the base of the stairs, he looked about and went into the laundry area. The big concern was the filling of the washer. It was going to make a lot of noise and there may not be a way to muffle that. And he would have to come down later on to take care of the drying part of it as well. Mahoro was not going to accept the notion that she forgot to complete the laundry, nor would she believe that she left the clothes to dry on the line outside all night long.
That part of the puzzle was going to be a tough one to crack, but there was no way he was going to just heave another pair of befouled bedwear into the hamper and hope for the best. Mahoro had to know that something was afoot, even if she didn't say anything to him about it. She was a sharp cookie and knew when things were just not making sense. If he could just sneak this past her, just this one time, he would avoid any embarrassing entanglements. Just as he opened the lid, the lights came on behind him.
He froze, the load of laundry in his hands. Trapped!
"Suguru….."
The voice was light and lyrical; not of a disparaging tone. He turned to see Mahoro standing there. Just standing there. She was in her floral print pajamas and slippers. She looked so cute, especially with her hair down and not tied up as during the day. Her arms were not crossed in a display of displeasure, just a look of concern and, perhaps, bewilderment. She extended one hand towards him.
"Please, start the laundry. Then come to the table. I'll make some tea for us." He heard the whistle of the kettle. How long has she been standing there? How long had she known he was doing all of this? How quiet was he going to have to be to ever get anything past her?
Once the laundry was started, he slouched into the kitchen, dragging out a chair and flumping into it. At the table was Mahoro, a pot of tea and two cups. The smell of hibiscus filled the room. Surugu wanted to feel upbeat, as the hibiscus tea had such a soothing aroma, but he felt he was going to get a lecture on him being deceptive.
"Surugu, all I want you to do is listen. That's all. Just listen." Mahoro moved the tea cup closer to him as she began. "Growing up is difficult. Just as you get used to things happening in a certain way, it seems it all gets changed about. You are now of an age where these nocturnal emissions are going to be happening. This is not something to be embarrassed about; it is all part of being human.
"Statistics show that by the time a male reaches the age of 16, all of them have had this happen to them at least once. You cannot avoid it and no one is immune. The real concern lies in that there is no way to understand what triggers it. You can go years and years and have nothing, and then, you get a cluster of them, followed by nothing for years and years."
Suguru sipped his tea, but his head was still down. He appreciated what Mahoro was trying to do, but it was still a feeling he wasn't ready to handle. The washer was busy at work, now into the first rinse as Mahoro continued.
"One thought is that a full bladder may put pressure on the prostate and this sets off the chain of events. Tight clothing can be a factor, as well as general tension and anxiety. Even the warmth of the bed can be a cause. The ironic aspect about all of this is that males seldom have an erotic dream when it happens. You could be dreaming about playing basketball or rowing a boat and you still get a release."
Suguru gave a wry smile. That was not his case. His dreams were intensely erotic and they all involved Mahoro.
The first dream had him going grocery shopping. As he passed the chilled food units, he saw Mahoro lying there. All she had on was her maid headpiece and a pair of socks. The rest of her was totally, TOTALLY naked. Every inch of her gorgeous body was there on display. He just gaped at her, lying there like so much food. She sat upright and looked to him.
"I am so glad you finally got here. Come in with me." She took his hand and he floated over next to her, his clothes disappearing in the process. He lay next to her and felt the warmth of her body against the chill of the unit. It was an odd juxtapositioning of things. He did not even get a chance to do anything with her in his dream before he exploded.
He looked up as Mahoro continued to speak. For an android, she knew an awful lot of information about people. "Now, another area of concern is the amount of the emission. It has been proven that these releases can generate up to twice the normal amount, making things seem messier. This is due, in part, to inhibitions.
"When people are…intimate…there is still a lot of tension going on and the mind seems to put up a lot of roadblocks and impediments. Because you are asleep, all of these worries are not there. Kind of like driving a race car on the track alone; it's only your car, so you can do whatever you feel."
Whatever you feel, eh? His second dream was certainly like that. He was walking around downtown and found a shop in the base of a huge oak tree. It advertised itself as a custom fitted bra shop, so he HAD to take a look inside.
As he snuck in, he observed the back of a woman. She was topless, but from his angle, he could see that she was possessed of a bust line that would not quit. He saw the sides of her expansive glands go well beyond her body. He just had to see these from the front.
The fitter came in, oblivious to his presence, with an absolutely enormous bra and began to dress the mystery woman. As it was put on, the woman commented that this was only a temporary bra, as she had one more operation to go to achieve the size she truly wanted. "This is for my man and I would do anything for him. He deserves it," she commented.
With the bra in place, she began to torque her body about, so she could see herself from every angle, but her face remained hidden. Even this bra was not big enough, as the elastic was stretched to its absolute limit. The wide straps were now very thin, as all elements struggled to keep her supported. When he was presented with her body profile, he was stunned at to how large she was. It looked like a blimp docking at the mooring tower. And she was going to get larger? He had to see her from the front. As he tried to sneak around, the woman then turned about.
It was Mahoro! As she gave a gasp of surprise, the bra exploded off of her and showed her full, feminine features: soft, round, perfect and immense. Suguru grimaced. He thought THAT one was a mess.
Mahoro responded to his reaction. "I know. You probably don't really want to hear all this. You are hoping it will go away and that we never speak of it again, but your body has other notions and it is best to understand and be prepared for what may happen. I mean, I know a dream feels like it takes only 20 minutes to happen, but it can occur over several hours.
"Because you are taking time before release, this gives your body a big opportunity to marshal its forces, so when the inevitable happens, you feel as though you have spilled a bucket upon yourself."
Bucket. Kind of like the dream he had tonight. He 'awoke' to find himself in a barn, covered with hay, as if he had been sleeping. He was naked, but had no idea as to how he got there, where he was or where his clothes had gotten to. But that was dream logic for you. As he started to get up to look for some clothes, the milk maid came in, so he settled himself back into the hay to hide.
The maid was Mahoro, but her hair was done in long braids, cascading about her shoulders. She was wearing an outfit that exposed her shoulders and a tiny bit of cleavage and the dress itself swirled about her ankles, showing her petticoats. She carried a bucket and a stool and approached a nearby cow. "It's time for you to get milked, Bessie," she called out. She set up the bucket and stool and began to milk the cow, leaning against the cow with her body.
"Oh, Bessie, you sure feel soft and warm." Mahoro pulled her top down and freed her breasts, then began to rub herself against the cow's side. She moaned in appreciation as she rotated about the cow while still milking her. As he watched all this, he got an enormous erection, sprouting through the hay like a lightening rod. He did not move to cover it up or hide it, as Mahoro might hear him and that would make things worse, but it could not be missed. He tried to figure out a way to keep his presence a secret, pushing himself deeper into the hay.
Mahoro turned about and stared right at him. She came over, her glorious breasts exposed for him to see, rising and falling with every breath. Crouching down, so close he could smell her perfume, she parted the hay from about his manhood, and then parted the hay from about his face to stare at him with a sense of amusement.
"What have we here? An unwanted guest? I know exactly how to deal with you!" She stood tall and hiked up her dress to reveal that she wore no underwear. She then positioned herself over him, ready to impale herself. That was when he lost it and woke up into his current dilemma.
Why was he having these dreams? Did he see Mahoro in such a manner? She was a friend. In the short time she had been here, she brought a stability and comfort he had not known for years. Was this how he repaid that consideration? Could it have something to do with the confrontation with Ryuga a few days earlier? All those fears and loneliness had come back full force.
He did sustain a severe concussion, so there could be some damage he was not aware of. He had heard the tale of a rather prim woman who got in an accident while riding one of San Francisco's cable cars and turned into a raging nymphomaniac because of it. Could something like this happen to him?
He never had dreams about his friends. Well, he did, but it was more along the lines of Chizo eating all of his lunch at school or coming to class on the last day and having to take a test he was not prepared for, but never anything so lustful and prurient. Not even Riho Asaoka got this level of treatment.
Suguru wanted to cry. He did not know what to do. He couldn't seem to make these dreams stop and he wanted them to stop. He was out of control. Suddenly, he felt Mahoro's hands on his, warm and nurturing.
He looked up to see a smile of hope from her. "I know. It would be better if your father could have spoken to you about this. He would have a deeper understanding as how to explain it best to you."
Suguru looked into the distance. He did love his father, but all he ever told him about was ecchi, as to how men were filthy creatures and there was nothing that could be done about it, so it was kind of OK to look at those magazines. And what magazines! That is where he first ran into Riho.
Was that his problem? Did all those years of staring and staring and staring finally catch up with him? Was he truly unable to look at a person and not be filled with perverted abandon? Was Mahoro merely a collection of the 'fun parts'? Were things so beyond the beyond that he would never be 'normal'?
"You are not in this alone." Mahoro's words brought him back to reality. "I never want you to feel that you have to hide this or lurk in corners, trying to protect me from these discoveries. It is all of a temporary nature and will abate. I am more than your maid. I am your friend."
The washer indicated that the cycles had all been run. Suguru drank down the last of his tea as Mahoro got up. "I will hang that out tomorrow morning…well, later today, so it can stay in the washer for a couple of hours. I think it is time for you to get yourself back to bed." As Mahoro moved past Suguru, he reached out and took her hand. She stopped and turned towards him. He stared up at her.
"Thank you for that, Mahoro. It is nice to know that you will be there for me." He then lowered his head.
"Yes. Yes." Mahoro looked sad for a moment, but she would not let Suguru see that. "I'll be here, as long as possible."
Suguru stood up and went back to his room. Mahoro called out to him. "Those pajamas seem a bit snug. Would you like to take up your clean pair and change out?"
Suguru yawned. "No. I'll be fine. It's only for a couple of hours anyway. I'll be asleep the whole time." In his room, he crawled into bed. It already had the makings of a long day. The bed sure feels warm, he thought. As soon as his head hit the pillow, he went right out into Dreamland.
He was at his house, letting himself in at the end of the day. "Mahoro, I'm home."
He heard her call out. "Oh, Suguru! I'm so glad you're here." She stepped out from the kitchen to show herself incredibly pregnant. He stared on as she moved in such a way that she was oblivious to the size of her swollen belly.
As she stood in front of him, she unbuttoned her maternity dress so he could see her impending motherhood. He had no idea as to how she got this way, but he understood completely that it was his son she carried.
He reached out and touched her, noting how warm she felt and seeing how large she was. It was as if she had swallowed a weather balloon. He knelt down to get a better look at things, seeing that her navel was now an outie. As he gazed at her, she began to unbutton more of her dress until she was naked in front of him. She was absolutely radiant, practically glowing with happiness. Even though he saw that her breasts had expanded, so they were as big as her tummy, he was filled with a sense of calm and inner joy. He could feel it becoming more and more overwhelming. He was….happy.
"Do you think I'm still pretty?" she asked, almost afraid of the answer she might hear. She spun about; trying to make sure she could please him. He looked at every curve and swelling and part of her body. She was honestly unashamed of her nudity, proud of her pregnancy, reveling in her beauty. She was just so beautiful to him. A wonderful sense of completeness surrounded him.
"You are always pretty to me. After all, you are my friend. One reason why I took you as my bride." Tears in her eyes, Mahoro ran over to hug Suguru and embraced him. He looked into her eyes and gave her a passionate kiss. His feelings were surging and growing through him, building and building until….
Suguru awoke with a start.
SPLURT!
MAHORO'S SYSTEMS WILL CEASE TO FUNCTION IN 293 DAYS
End Notes
The odd this about this story is that I had not even considered doing something like this, until I went to the Los Angeles Anime Expo. That convention is an absolute zoo, with 20,000 people milling about and making for an intriguing time.
The big gathering spot is the Vendor's Hall, where they sell everything. And I mean EVERYTHING! Is it in anime? There is an excellent chance they have it and you can get it there. So, you do have your ecchi/hentai dealers, as well as those who vend doujinsin.
For those of you who do not know, we would call it "fan art", but it is more than that. They actually create and sell magazines of characters doing….things. If it is an anime character, they will be doing actions of a sexual nature. The thing I found funny in that of all the books I looked at, Sailor Moon lead the way, followed closely by Tenchi Muyo.
In fact, any story with a predominantly female cast got the treatment, although ANY female could easily get the call. And I only know what they had! What if there were things I DIDN'T see? Naruto, Dragonball, Bleach, Case Closed, Pokemon (especially with Team Rocket), xxxHolic, Code Geass, whatever was out there as an anime. First, it was art; now, it's filth.
So, Sturgeon's Law is in full effect here and there are people who are short on both ability and style. Some folks go all out and produce professional-grade artwork, but those magazines were reflective in cost for that effort.
I came across some of this Mahoromatic Fan Art, but the bags are all sealed, so you really are getting a pig in a poke. Most of it was going for $12 to $16 each (where it sold in Japan for 400 yen or about $4), but I was able to score on four books at $6 each.
The funny thing about this X-rated art is that it is censored. What? Censored porn? Yup. There are black lines or blotted out section, so you never see the bits, only an implication as to what is happening. Oh, breasts are breasts, so you see those in their full glory.
What got me about the artwork is how "clean" it was. Clean in the sense at to style. It was not a detailed drawing, just line work and minimal shading. I did see a rather interesting "group" shot of them, but looking more like if they were "normal" people and not anime art.
I cannot read Japanese, (if you think my Portuguese stinks, my Japanese is revolting), so I have no idea what they were all saying, but I found it odd that in two of the four magazines I bought, Shikijo was killed. In both instances, Mahoro shot her. (It was in a playful manner, so no blood and guts about, but still…..)
What made my particular story hard is how to describe things of a sexual nature but not come off as prurient or pandering. Things like this happen, but I have never seen this issue addressed or broached anywhere in "standard" mode. And since most people cannot write smut anyway, I did not want to appear to be a sour lemon or an off-taste lime.
Sure, I am mere minutes away from accessing the internet and finding all the hentai I can stagger under, where there is no censorship, where every nook and cranny is exposed for me to drool over, where the participants are immensely proud of their immense appendages, where any and every kind of peccadillo is gloriously showcased, so I can…..
Sorry, but the bulk of this stuff is boring and made worse by a poor approach and a callous attitude to it all. Just because you can draw someone doing the nasty doesn't mean you are doing it for the best of reasons. ("Look! Look! Kim Possible and Mira Nova are in deep space and…..")
The title of this piece comes from an after-hours show at Fanime (a local anime convention). From midnight until six am, they show near-endless hentai. What makes the whole thing so funny is the logo they use to promote this particular event is Mahoro herself, exhorting the fact that "Dirty thoughts are bad!"
The cable car accident that Suguru refers to happened in 1964 when Gloria Sykes was injured and began having all this sex. She sued for $500,000, got $50,000 and disappeared. She is still alive, now 66, but declines to discuss the event.
The date is about a week after the climactic battle with Ryuga at the abandoned Hiryu Hospital, so there are some unsettled feelings about all of this. And, as a side-bar, have you noticed how Japan is seemingly littered with abandoned hospitals? In the time since I have seen "Mahoromatic", I must have come across five or six other animes that have something occurring in an abandoned hospital.
That is a rather large chunk of real estate to walk away from. I know, you have seen buildings like that (in my town, I have a grocery store building that has sat idle for 35 years) but it still seems odd to me.
At the time I wrote this, as part of the "Second Season", this story was the last in line (Story 44), but was the first one completed. That's the odd thing about writing. Some tales are a near-Sisyphean task to complete; others are a roller-coaster of ease. Go figure.