Here's Chiyome for the grand finale!

As I've foreshadowed in the past chapter, as well as the plan I've declared since the middle part of this story, there's going to be 2 (two!) epilogue chapters. One will be a setup for a future HV project, set right after this era around when Musashi-chan lived. The other one is more of a wrap-up, as well as a very, very far foreshadowing into yet another future HV project. Look forward to them!

The HV-S01: RKR's rewrite should be up in this site within the next 2 months.

For a change of pace, Chiyome and I don't meet up straight where we'll fuck for the night. With Jūbei and Kippōshi, it's right into their personal bedrooms, while I never made it that far and shamefully got knocked out right in the bathroom. I suspect the latter has informed the other three girls – this first wife of mine in front of me included – of the sight of me butt-naked, passed out with my ass hanging in the air while sloppily hugging Danzō like a dakimakura.

…okay, the reality wasn't that exaggerated – I still automatically preserved whatever dignity I have left – but I've made my point: a new emotion has just been mastered, aided by Danzō's unique change of pace. They didn't say anything, but I'm quite sure this was on purpose.

I love them so much. For being able to forcibly add something to me, when I was struggling to do just that. I love them, just like the women in my previous lives. Perhaps that's the point of Alaya giving me good luck with women? Knowing my emotional progress wouldn't improve very much if I was simply put among like-minded people, forming friendships and sibling-like bonds? [Love] is certainly the most powerful emotion, but its lethality as a double-edged sword…

…well, look who's talking. I'm also a double-edged sword, yet the people around me accept me for who I am, just as easily as I accept them. The only difference is I am made that way, while they're perfectly normal individuals. Bless them. Bless them for loving this broken piece of fake human who's actually a Heroic Vessel. That's the primary reason why I want to make them as happy as possible, as repayment for completing myself. It's a somewhat confusing positive feedback loop: I, as SHIRŌ, was initially equipped with false personalities and spiritual reactions from my base components, which were Shirō Emiya and Counter Guardian EMIYA; the way I treat others caused them to develop positive feelings towards me, which I absorb, copy, and re-project outwards; finally, level of affection rose sharply among all parties involved, tying all of us into an inseverable bond. The growth chart only increases as I go through each and every one of my lives, to the point it's getting more and more difficult to let go and die according to Alaya's designs when the Quantum Time Lock is resolved satisfactorily.

My mind wanders here and there – the above monologue being one snippet among many – because for once in the span of four days, scheduled to be filled to the brim with debauchery, I found a graceful, peaceful chance to relax earlier in the day, different than the relaxing trap Danzō put me in yesterday. It seems Chiyome still knows me the best, being my first wife – despite technically being the third woman in my life after my childhood friends Kippōshi and Jūbei – since she's specifically arranged this first half a day as cuddling time, instead of pure rest time so my balls can produce more sperm. The other three nights, while enjoyable, did have an element of dread in them when the sun was still in the sky, since the girls were following Nihon's rather outdated tradition of newlyweds only meeting up at night. Chiyome correctly guessed however much I enjoyed that arrangement in the end, it's time for a break.

So I'm currently accompanying her drink alcohol in the middle of the day.

As she rises up in social and political ranks thanks to both her own achievements and connections, along with this screwed-up family's – which includes me – she's beginning to splurge more and more. It's just enough so people can't accuse her of being extravagant, and what she buys is always for my own enjoyment anyway. I can't criticize her for spending the money she won't use anyway if she keeps it stashed somewhere.

Nihon has advanced more than Proper Human History, yes, but Nanban-style banking is still unestablished and rather unpopular, even overseas.

Besides, I like seeing her in pretty dresses… or pretty nothingness, since what she's wearing is getting more and more scandalous each time. That occasion when she only wears fishnets over her naked body is still quite memorable… or when it's nothing but red ribbons, wrapping around her like she's my present… or that cut-up miko outfit deliberately modified to shame the religious practice with perverted fantasies…

Ahem. In any case…

"You're thinking of something perverted again, aren't you?" She looks up from her usual sitting position on my lap.

Ah, how I cherish the days when she and Jūbei would fight over who got to sit this way. However, as the latter grew up more and more, Jūbei seemed rather embarrassed to fight over what she considered something trivial – this was after we've fucked – against whom she considered a first wife worthy of respect. So, despite having 'moulted' a few times since then, Chiyome is still of the size suitable to be pampered this way in public, modelling herself as my younger sister or something.

Come to think of it, the twins have recently surpassed her in both height and bust size. Then Chiyome cried, and ran towards me while whining all the way. Again. Both of us knew this wasn't anything serious, and it's just one of the ways she decompresses after particularly stressful days at work. Ditto her occasional spending spree, though I noticed her personal effects to be far and few in-between – not much different than her early days when she's a more active kunoichi in the field. Like I mentioned earlier, most of the things she bought could either be shared among our 'family', or simply for our enjoyment.

Hence, the lack of admonishment.

"I'm hurt my lovely first wife will accuse me of such," I feign pain across my face, nuzzling my face into her crown hard enough I consider it painful, enjoying how she squirms and giggles as if it's ticklish instead. "It's not 'again'; with you, I'm always thinking of something perverted."

To make my point, I thoroughly move her entire body along my crotch, letting her small bum feel the bulge which has already been there since the moment we start drinking. She adds fuel to the fire – almost literally – by shaking her hips in a manner I'm sure she learnt from Danzō.

I have to note for interested parties, however, Chiyome has reverted to her original size, having grown several inches in the meantime – and by that, I mean just yesterday. It's quite a shocking decision and nice surprise, since I haven't really shout out loud my willingness to lay down with a seemingly underage girl. Of course, through the Dream Cycles, Chiyome has perhaps met Medousiana and saw her memories, gaining confidence in her own immature form from the fact I still fucked the child-sized Gorgon when she came onto me, despite her age nearing a century already at the time (though she mentally still matched her physical form, bless her).

At times, my girls who're more on the smaller side chide me for following modern sensibilities too much. Perhaps I am, perhaps not – across history, marrying 'women' who don't even have their period yet is common, unfortunately or not. My morality, absent as it was at the start, is indeed consistently inconsistent regarding this issue – at times simply blindly following my lust for beauty regardless of its appearance, other times restraining myself too much and taking a conservative approach against girls who clearly love me.

In fact, I perhaps should exercise more judgement on that fateful day, when I met Chiyome for the first time… in the middle of her bath. At any time across history, unlike my earlier argument, that would've been instant incarceration at the very least, if not outright execution. To this day, I wonder how on earth a girl actually married the lucky pervert who stumbled upon her nude form without permission.

That trope is popular among fantastical romance genres, yes, but this is real life.

Perhaps that's the arousing memory she wishes to enact right now, since her appearance is nearly identical to her younger self at that time, bar the more vivid serpentine markings and stronger Conceptual Weight. For me, who don't rely solely on visual appearance, but also an olfactory one, that's already quite a considerable difference, though requesting her to change the ratio of the pheromones in her glands is perhaps too much. I don't even ask that from Danzō – what she changes is solely from her judgement alone on what I may enjoy on that day.

She jumps lightly, deliberately bumping my chin upwards with a combination of headbutt and uppercut, knocking my cock off its comfortable perch from between her tight ass. "Which part are you thinking about me, then?"

"When we first met," I admit, already figuring out her schtick for today. "It's shocking I didn't think of offering you sake at that time."

She giggles. "Ahahaha… Don't you think I would've thrown the bottle straight towards you if you did?"

"Or, following your Great Ancestor's example, perhaps there's a possibility I might tame you far easier than what's actually needed?" I tease her back, continuing our back-and-forth throughout the day.

"Hmph!" She elbows me on the side, but because of the form she chooses now, it doesn't feel more than a child's blow. "I shall let you know I'm not that cheap of a snake!"

"Yes, yes. You're the cutest snake there is, also," I pat her head – a gesture we, as proper husband-and-wife, haven't done in a while. "And you're the best, too."

"I don't know whether you're being honest or sarcastic," she complains. "But I'll take it!"

"The first one, of course," I try to convince her.

"Sure, sure."

It's still quite awkward, since her sudden change in size means the usual physical mismatch between us instantly grows to an extreme, making me feel like I'm playing with a doll instead of my actual wife. Back then, when I first slept with her, I was considerably smaller than myself right now, though still well-built for my age. Now, while she's not as small as Medousiana was when I romanced her back then, she's not far off. Chiyome's Proper Human History counterpart had no comparative figure to triangulate her real height either, meaning she could be short across her various parallel versions.

Today began with a nice, peaceful breakfast between the two of us. The menu was simple but well-made and -seasoned, chosen and cooked by her. I initially wanted to cook – I did so the first two nights – but Chiyome immediately stopped me and used the excuse of my unbearably embarrassing smell, because our kitchen is actually quite well-staffed despite ours not being a large household. Spreading sexual funk everywhere among the maids and cooks was quite out there, I had to admit, and relented. Danzō was still 'charging' herself after last night, her energy level going quite low, while Jūbei and Kippōshi were already starting to go back to work, those two workaholics.

One thing I noticed as we ate side-by-side, though, was the unchanging length of her hair. Our chopsticks rhythmically picked through roasted sanma and grilled eel – the main courses for our breakfast; quite the luxurious one, I might add – though I placed mine down after a bite, much to her confusion… and pleasant surprise when my right hand reached over and rubbed her head, combing that curiously-perfect hair down towards her neck and lifting the black curtain to reveal the crimson-marked nape I liked to suckle on. Now she's smaller, her already-long hair was twice her height, spreading behind her like a waterfall. In fact, it's about the same length as Medousiana's adult form, but worn on a childish body, making the comparison even starker.

She smiled silently at my wonderment, before going back to her breakfast like nothing's happened. Hence, I could continue enjoying her side-profile beauty from this angle, like I was appraising the finest china in the world. Chiyome's perhaps the thinnest out of all the women I've been with, just barely on this side of healthy. It's not due to anorexia or any kind of similar disorders, though – her body was simply tempered to the extreme by the Kōga Clan's training and Yamata-no-Orochi's lineage. A vessel without the slightest impurity which could exhibit and control the greatest power possible, both through martial arts and priestly spirituality. Thus, as I nudged her hair backwards to view her delectable nape, I was instinctively led to caress that part of sensitive skin, causing her to jump in place due to the sudden ticklishness.

"Pfft!"

…and also made her spurt out the rice in her mouth across the dining room. With great lethality, too, as she accidentally did it with her senbon spitting technique, blowing several rice grain-sized holes into the wall.

She glared at me, but chose not to say anything and simply wiped her mouth with the available napkin, continuing to eat and keeping still, envisioning herself as an inanimate doll which just so happened to acquire the interest of a naughty pair of hands. Besides, their house's maintenance usually fell into the responsibility of the wife's – at least in terms of supervision – so she's understandably annoyed at my antics. Even in modern times, wives were expected to be the one monitoring the household's purse string as the husbands were busy and stressed earning a living outside. Well, to be more precise, the person staying inside the house most would take the former role, since stay-at-home husbands and career wives would become more common later on.

In fact, it's becoming more common now with the advent of Princess Generals, but too much was placed upon their shoulders because of this reality's uneven balance of male and female roles in society. For instance, while they had the chance to fight on equal grounds with men, they were also expected to retain the old-fashioned traditional roles women were forced into – namely, taking care of the family alongside their new careers. Men, on the other hand, had no such additional burden because… well, just because of some chauvinistic tendencies.

And I'd freely admit I wasn't some kind of preacher of modern values, because I unashamedly enjoyed the privileges men were 'entitled' to have, such as polygamy. In a truly equity-based society, the way I expressed my love to my girls would've been heavily frowned upon, if not outright vilified and hated… Actually, the world didn't even have to progress that much, since I was already hated in Amazon when I engaged a relationship with Hippolyta and knocked her up. It was a fantastical matriarchal society – one which shouldn't work, since women were still the reproductive bottleneck of that time – but also an archaic one. Ironically, the women there expressed the rounded values I respected the most, in contrast to modern self-proclaimed false feminists who only embodied the negatives.

I moved to her behind, careful not to accidentally kneel on her overflowing black hair, bunching it up in order to avoid doing just that. "Owa…" I accidentally gushed out, feeling the weight of her hair being similar to a futon. An ultra-soft, silky, and good-smelling futon. "Have I ever told you how much I loved your hair?"

She shrugged, seemingly intent on giving me the silent treatment after the earlier incident. However, I could tell her face was stretching to its maximum with an ugly grin – one she'd slap me in a flash if I leant forward and took a peek. So I bundled one section of her hair and buried my face in it, enjoying both its natural and magical smell, causing her to shiver like when I suckle on her neck every once in a while. I've found out serpentine females could also receive tactile sensation from their hair follicles – as well as sensitive toes, used to gather vibrational information from their surrounding – from my experience with Medousiana, and Chiyome often described it as an arousing tickle.

I thought I was overdoing it, since straight after that, I took in every strand of hair of hers my hands could grab and wrapped it around my face, deep enough I was pressing against her cranium gently. It was the warmest and most pleasant scarf I've ever worn, but I assumed she didn't share my silent compliments as she turned around – her hair was long enough she could do so painlessly – and shoved my chest away.

Of course, that's just the opening I needed to cradle her entire body into my arms. It was quite funny, considering I usually would be face-to-face with her reddened face – this time, all I see was pure black. From the outside, I must look like some kind of yōkai with a bundle of hair as my head.

- Puni! Puni! Puni!

That was the sound of her small fist playfully hitting my chest repeatedly, trying to stop me playing around and finish my breakfast while it's still somewhat warm.

Not wanting to waste her morning's effort, I obliged, reluctantly unfurling her hair and returning to my seat.

Though not before giving her forehead a peck as a quiet thank-you for her understanding.

That was this morning.

After that somewhat eventful breakfast – though the maids I've overheard called it 'romantic' – we really relaxed by strolling and doing some light maintenance to the garden.

The house we're in is technically separate from the main castle where I've been fucking my other three lovers, and is primarily built as a new, permanent shrine for Yamata-no-Orochi and where Chiyome can continue her priestly duties. Gifu Castle has transitioned from being a main strategic hub for Kippōshi's conquest to unify Nihon into a true living quarters for our main and branch families. The former task shifts back to its rightful place: Kyoto's Imperial Palace, having been sidelined by the Empress's reduction in political power. Now that everything's been restored, and this empire truly stands as one in preparation for its expansion to return its mythical glory and rule, the various daimyōs' and Princess Generals' castles are majorly disarmed to centralize military command while decentralizing local peacekeeping efforts simultaneously. Well, technically, it's still in the process of formally finishing, since reviving and reorganizing the Imperial Army from its scant numbers by absorbing the soldiers and generals from various provinces aren't a job done feasibly in days.

Regardless of our casual intentions, however, it's near-impossible for the two of us to really groom the garden – filled with as many produce plants as possible at my insistence, and as devoid of useless, traditional landscaping aesthetics as possible – because it's the size of a farm. Yes, both of our Magecrafts could do it, but the point of growing one's own food would be moot. The reward for months of backbreaking work was ever-so-sweeter if done properly and manually, without cheating with Thaumaturgy. That's the reason why I insist on personally cooking most days, and Chiyome being reluctant to relegate her priestly duties to junior mikos or artificial methods.

Walking hand-in-hand, I actually got distracted by how small and cute her palm has become, much like how I was mesmerized by her hair earlier. The contrast was starker, I justified, by the clash between my memory of how her hand during this time of her life should feel like, and the reality clasped inside my adult, weathered hand. Perhaps it's me who's changed too much, and all those years ago, I wasn't as rugged as I thought I was.

She did up her hair into a large bun, twice the size in diameter compared to her now-shrunken head, so it wouldn't drag on the ground. Usually, she'd simply channel Od into those black strands to float them off the dirt, or wash them with alchemical solutions wherever there's a clean stream of water nearby.

Perhaps she sensed my thoughts, so she squeezed her hand harder and looked up to me. "Not loving my hair anymore?" She challenged.

However, I just so happened to have a comeback in mind.

"I've just fallen in love with it more… to the point I'm about to become Senjū-dōji, I think." I feigned horror and pain. "Ah, my Yōkai Realm is forming…"

She blushed at the first part of my rebuttal, then tilted her head in confusion for the second half…

…before she came to a realization. Her hands shot up, forcibly tearing one from my own, clutching the museum-sized globe made of hair she called a 'bun'. "Y-You can't dribble my hair!" She cried out. "D-Don't you dare!"

"I don't know…" I drawled on, masticating on the cute sight of this currently-little girl crouching, cowering, and failing to cover her entire mass of bundled hair with her measly arms. "I'm weak to my wife's advances lately… U-Ugh… I c-can't hold on anymore…!"

What ensued was a high-speed chase more akin to two panthers sprinting towards each other in the middle of the forest – only if said 'forest' was a well-manicured lush farm and the 'panthers' were somewhat mismatched in size compared to each other.

So, after a morning's worth of cuddling and a noon's worth of playing around like fools, making the large castle compound our playground, we spent the hours nearing sunset lounging around like an old couple, with no intention of moving a single muscle due to laziness. We just can't be bothered right now – not even my half-erect cock nudging her pert butt has any desire to move more. She, too, after her earlier playful complaint, relaxes wholeheartedly.

Part of it is perhaps the copious amount of alcohol we've consumed, which would kill any 'old couple' befitting my earlier analogue. Sake jugs of varying grades, origins, and flavours are neatly stacked to either side of us – one side brand-new and unopened, the other empty and in bad shape because of my poor handling. Only Chiyome's masterful manipulation of her hair provided enough cushion to move them around carelessly since the moment we started drinking, which was unexpected due to my self-conceived resistance to alcohol.

Only when she pointed out I wasn't drunk from the alcohol, but the flavours instead, did I get an inkling on why my focus hasn't been razor-sharp as always. First, she's partially-correct – my chef's mind immediately dissects the probable ingredients and brewing methods in an attempt to make it better, while my magically-attuned side is constantly overwhelmed by Chiyome's scent and presence.

No matter how much as I pride myself in my parallel processing capability, so much heavenly temptations will inevitably wear a man down. Besides, it's not like I'm deliberately on guard against these things, hence my patchy resistance against various things done to me in these past 4 days.

I blame the jug makers for not having the foresight to make stronger vessels. They're made to store intoxicating liquids; won't it be better for business if the makers take this marketing angle to promote their products? That their jugs can withstand 10 consecutive bar fights? Why focus on decorative craftsmanship and compete on who can make the most beautiful ones instead?

Strange priorities, those lot.

Compared to usual, Chiyome's body temperature is holding steady at a feverish temperature, having skyrocketed to this level after her first sip. Her constitution is remarkably strong, because without specialized bodies like Danzō, her small figure can process and digest amounts of alcohol which should've been lethal. This is even including brews with the [Divine] attribute stirred into them, which is made along the line of the sake Susanoo used to immobilize Yamata-no-Orochi in eons past.

Come to think of it…

"You haven't pilfered the temple's sake offerings for us to drink, have you?" I carefully ask, narrowing my eyes to project as much suspicion I can through what's undoubtedly a rather sloppy face.

"What I drink will go to Yamata-no-Orochi-sama anyway! So I'm not stealing! I'm just helping him drink!" She exclaims, her speech quite excitable after our many hours of quiet drinking and cloud-watching. It's an adorable contrast to her recent persona, which is the textbook example of a head miko after her achievements are recognized and publicized, matching her sudden change in appearance. "I've always told him to cut down on the drinks lately, anyway!"

I assume the eight-headed divine serpent is shouting back, "Take a look at yourself first!" inside her head, but from the unchanged nature of Chiyome's face, I also assume she gleefully ignored him.

In fact, my words weren't baseless. I know she's fond of the finer things in life, and the small portion of life's sins she actually personally indulges is alcoholism. Not that she's ever drunk – far from it – but regardless of the negative connotation associated with it, I love her so much – and the other girls respect her contribution both in our 'family' and to the wider society as a whole – I allow her to do so. I'm not sure if real-life serpents can down alcohol as good as she can, but I do attribute this strong constitution to her inborn nature. Plus, with Magecraft, this becomes less of an issue. She's the model image of a responsible drinker: never in public, restrained even in private. When I see her drink, there's never an army of sake cups and bottles covering the ground like what we're doing right now with large earthenware jugs – always prim and proper, with only a few empty bottles and cups neatly lined up as the rest have been carried off or stashed away somewhere.

Suddenly, my thought is broken when she suddenly stands up. I wonder what she's up to, and my eyes do wander on the amount of alcohol we have left – which should still be plenty to drink into the night – but my mind fails to come to a conclusion.

The afternoon sun is still some way off the horizon, so its glare is still quite powerful, with only a shade of orange beginning to be shown by the planet's atmosphere and curvature. It's at that annoying phase where the temperature just starts to dip to entice people to rest, yet it's still hot and humid enough to be uncomfortable. While I'm used to much higher temperatures and humidity over prolonged periods of time in the forge, I worry about Chiyome, whose normally-stable mood swings according to her environment. It's a bigger problem when she was ounger – which also makes it a problem now, considering her current choice of appearance.

The two of us are truly enacting the life of an old married couple just now, complete with the simplest, most comfortable clothing we have. As a result, it's a far cry from Jūbei and Kippōshi's insistence on perfectly-manicured sets of clothing, or Danzō's intricate environmental setup – we're just winging it, following what method for relaxation we desire at the time. Loose hanpen, yukata, and untied obi are the call of the day. Of course, they're at least attached enough to avoid instant nakedness the moment we move, but it's still quite arousing and thrilling to see flashes of skin, nipples, sideboobs, inner thighs, pussy lips, or asshole whenever Chiyome shifts around.

As she stands and half-twirls in front of me, eerily bringing up Shirō Emiya's memories of tender high school romance. Her lithe figure half-bows in front of me, her feet spread with her arms behind her, deliberately letting her loose clothing to hang down and expose not just her erect nipples, but also everything down to her stomach, though her expression is of an utmost sweetness instead of hungry arousal.

Which can only mean one thing.

"You only make that face when you want something, Chiyome," I chuckle. I reach out my hands to cup her small face, but she deliberately stands just far enough I won't reach if I remain seated. "What is it? I'm sure it's something outrageous," I tease.

Her expression doesn't change or crack. My first wife simply says, "I want a baby."

- …

My sudden silence and freeze make her narrow her eyes. "…you're not fond of the idea?"

"On the contrary," I hurry and interrupt her thought, "I always think of that as a fact, and not something you have to set up this specially."

- …

"Oh."

Looking at her brighter-red face, I query rather seriously, "…don't tell me your mentality is also affected by this… change you've done?"

"S-Shut up!"

Ah, now she's copying a young Kippōshi. It means it's time to move on and not tease her further on this topic.

"Muuu…" She pouts and grumbles, straightening up and folding her arms over her meagre chest. "And here I am trying to best those three…" I stand up, wanting to deliver my usual line, but she reads my mind faster than I can open my mouth. "And I understand we don't have to compete! I'm unique just being myself! Yada-yada-yada… You just don't understand women, Shirō!"

"Heh… Am I that predictable these days?"

"To be frank, you've been predictable since the third day I've known you, so…" She shrugs, ignoring the genuine pained look flashing across my face. "If a girl ever dreamt about what perfect words a man would use to woo her… that covers basically your whole vocabulary, Shirō." Fortunately, she then laughs, so I don't have to think up of an original corny line to cheer her up. "Being excellent is one thing, but it makes you predictable. Not that we all have any resistance to it, despite knowing this fully well…"

Somehow, her words make me pause in my steps to squish that childish face of hers.

- …

We stand facing each other like that for a while. I'm not sure what she's thinking, but actually, this is one of the few occasions when my mind is blank and I'm staring at things just because, and not for a particularly deep reason. Seeing this, she sighs while smiling tiredly, saying, "I was thinking of playing up a fantasy of mine."

"Which is…?" I don't dare guess, lest I ruin her fun.

"Do you remember when you peeked on me the first time we met?"

Again, I don't dare correct her, since the precise verb I'd use is 'stumble', not 'peep'. But this is marriage life. "Yeah…?"

"What if… you pushed me down right then and there?" She starts to squirm, her eyes glazing over and unfocused. "A defenceless maiden… encountering a brigand… What if…?"

As if to re-enact that exact scene, she allows her already-loose clothing to slide off her body and onto the ground below, right here among the open garden. I gulp hard, equally in dread of having her being seen by passer-by and in sexual anticipation. I know the maids and workers around are very well-trained and considerate, and quickly make themselves scarce once one of us insist on doing things ourselves, but it never hurts to be careful. If my lover isn't a wanton exhibitionist and explicitly requests such 'plays' from me, then I loathe to show off what should've been only mine and for my eyes only.

It was a proud moment recently when I discovered this new feeling: possessiveness.

Her naked body, in my opinion, is the most artful of all my wives. What she lacks in traditional sensuality, she more than makes up for it in the enticing match between her delicate features and the sacred marking wrapped around her body. Looking at her is more akin to appreciating the finest china than a normal woman, because this combination makes her beauty ethereal, instead of the other three girls' more typical female aspects.

That was why I was stunned when we first met: not because I caught her without her clothing, but the unusualness of her captivating self. Of course, I received Chiyome's full might of ninjutsu and Magecraft assault that day, but all's well if it ends well. And look where we are now.

She once again places her hands behind her back, but turns around and struts away from me, buck naked. This time, it's my turn to sigh as I follow her lead, also casting aside my clothes, leaving my well-forged body also in the nude. I mutter, unsure whether she's listening to me or not, "I'm not raping you, even if it's for your enjoyment."

"I know," she quickly replies, confirming my guess. "I'm just curious… We've never fucked under an open sky before, have we?"

That's certainly not a language an esteemed miko should use, but I let it slide. "Do you have a place in mind?"

"Hmm… I was thinking of leaving it to you, Mr. Brigand," she smirks at me, looking back with one teasing eye and a side of her face. "After all, I'm just a helpless maiden, aren't I…?"

That's enough invitation for me to burst forth and tackle her to the ground right there.

"Kyaaahhh!"

Her scream is quite fake, but it entices a smirk form me nonetheless. I slam one palm on the ground beside her head, while the other has already gathered both of her own to a point above her head. With one knee, I split her already-spread ankles and place my crotch right in front of hers, locking both of her legs around my hips and preventing my would-be victim from hiding her vagina from view.

"Like this?" I bring my face as close to her, knowingly failing to bring forth the menacing, evil persona she hinted upon by her words. Still, I should be somewhat threatening. I growl out, almost whisper-like, "Without you slutty lot enticing me, I would've still ravaged you four, you know?"

She squirms, giggling despite her blushing, breathy look underneath me. "Ah, then what should I do…? I've made my husband very angry…"

"You little…!"

I have to stop there before an inappropriate curse word comes flying out, and because I forget how tight Chiyome is in her current guise.

Simply put, the cock I've just shoved in as deep as I can… is stuck. Deep, deep inside.

"U-Urgh… Y-Your pussy is…!"

However, instead of the 'today's special' cheeky reply I was expecting, my lovely now-loli wife is struggling even more than me. Perhaps she overestimated her composure in this form? There was some truth to my earlier query about her mental side, no? "A-Aaaaaaaarrrrrrrrrggggggggghhhhhhhh…" She lets out a long, low groan, her face frozen in an expression of equal shock, pleasure, pain, and outright disbelief.

It's really a throwback to a detail I would've forgotten out of respect for Chiyome. It'd be a dishonour if I, with my then-young and immature body, masturbated to the sight of her naked self during an unprovoked and unauthorized voyeur session. While yes, there was certain pleasures there on its own pure perverseness – at the helplessness and innocence of the peeked-at victims – and recreating it would simply be faking it beyond recognition, I respect her and all women too much to actually indulge in it, even though I know the other party wouldn't have minded if they found out in the end. Mostly, they'd be angry at me for not being forthcoming from the start, but then again, it wouldn't be voyeur if done with the express written consent of all participants, would it?

Ditto with rape. As dark as it is, and as worthy as it is as a hidden, repressed fantasy, it's simply impossible to fake in a consensual sexual play. At most, it's just going to be a rendition of a BDSM play – at least to me – and truly a difficult act to do, even under the need of, say, war times. I have to admit I have experience in this sort of crime in some of my previous missions, when I had to extract information out of females others failed to crack with other methods.

I soothed out the guilt by assuring myself they enjoyed it at the end, and I personally saved them from captivity. Doesn't make what I did righteous or just. At all. Not even the crazed moans and begging they turned into could make me change my mind about myself.

Still… this is what Chiyome's into right now. Where did she get these ideas? As far as I know, erotic novels still haven't reached this level of depravity, quality, or popularity yet…

I squint, trying to see out of the haze of incredible pressure and pleasure my dick's in. Chiyome truly is tight… and incredibly small, bringing me to mind my first time with Medousiana again. The two have very different backgrounds and personalities, yet their shared serpentine nature meant I'm left often to compare their similarities. With just one thrust, I impale myself right into her womb's innermost depths, and this is still with about one-and-a-half inch of cock remaining outside, being bathed by a trickle of clear piss pouring out from her tiny urethra. Her pussy's not just gripping me – it's crushing from how physically impossible it should be for someone my size to fuck a vagina the size of a preteen.

She groans a few more times, but her full consciousness still hasn't come to. Ditto here, as I can barely muster the thought or strength to extradite myself from this situation, much as I want to go as wild as the previous three nights with this immature body.

Her uterus tightly encircles someway below my gland, when it's normally snugly captured, gasping minutely but without the clearance for me to safely pull out without prolapsing her entire birthing canal. Her tender womb gently sticks onto my entire cockhead, and I can feel the entrances to both her fallopian tubes falling onto its sides. Because she's still unconscious, it's quite difficult for her to masterfully manipulate her various internal organs, much less match Danzō's precision.

To distract me from the potential pain I've just caused by stabbing my wife in the crotch – because that's what people will declare when looking at us right now – I raise the hand which has been solidly planted beside her head to caress her still-frozen face. Admiring how perfectly she has recaptured her younger self, and not worrying about what technique she's used, I poke at various parts to gauge whether this is only skin-deep or a thorough, soul-changing transformation. After all, the [Soul] shapes the [Body].

She's already sweating cold bullets, and her still-normal tongue is still stiff. I've had a lot of experiences when she lost herself in pleasure and, in turn, control over her inhuman nature, morphing in the middle of sex. While it never turned into a terrible accident, it's still quite heart-pounding each time, worrying whether I'd heavily harm her and if it's fixable. For instance, it's now a rather common occurrence for this uber-tight pussy I'm in to suddenly loosen, leading me to think she's adapted to my size, only to realize she inadvertently turned her vagina into a cloaca because her body instinctively rejected anything above a certain size. Thus, to ensure harmlessness, it'd combine both vaginal and anal tracts to accommodate me.

It still hasn't happened, but I'm expecting it to happen soon.

In the meantime, let's fuck her.

Having recovered a split second earlier, enough to regain my bearing but not enough to objectively distance myself from the temptation of the flesh, I pull back, noticing the insane grip her womb and pussy are holding my cock hostage with, but I find myself switching off that small part of my brain which tends to care too much for my lovers… and stretches her crotch out as far as it can before it lets go. My cock still has half its gland buried in her, the pressure enacted by her two organs from earlier suddenly releases and is replaced by a more normal, if still highly intense, gentle squeeze from an immature vaginal opening.

Now I see her in her full glory, in this immature body of hers she so loathed as the years go by. While I have more experience in mating with underaged physiques more than most, there's still a tremendous vigour erupting from within me each time as the supposed immorality of this act descends. Both Medousiana and Chiyome are consenting and of the 'legal' age to do so – whatever that is, because it differs from era to era and culture to culture – but I never indulge wantonly each time, even if I won't be blamed for it. For instance, the first time I met this first wife of mine, she was barely into her teenage years, and should only still in modern-day early middle school if the comparison must be made.

"Uuuoooggghhh…"

My extraction earns yet another groan from Chiyome, though this high-pitched, young-sounding one is deeper and closer to her usual, more mature voice.

- Plop!

Before she can let out another syllable, I rail her as deep as I can, not caring how dangerously aggressive her pussy lips are deforming with every move. My cock's tip meets her womb once again, and pierces straight to its earlier position. This fucking is rough even from the start, completely without the slow build-up foreplay which I did the past three days regardless of how perverse the 'play' was, and is actually the first time for me, too. Chiyome has never exhibited masochistic tendencies in the past, and I never even so much scratched her in the past. It's more Jūbei's and Danzō's thing – the first one is just because she's a crazy, genius, and also a pervert; the second is because she's eager to experiment, despite her usually demure exterior. Still, it's not like we've gotten over-the-top – at most, it's just a few binding or choking or spanking plays. And those were just mild ones, because I'm too much of a scaredy-cat. The girls often teased me for it, but now…

Yeah, if Chiyome's plan is the same as Danzō, which is to make me lose control, then she's succeeding.

- Smooch… Slurp! Bluch… Lick…!

"Hah~ Hah~ !"

I cradle her entire body into my arms, feeling like her upper torso is exactly the same length as these limbs because of our new size difference. It truly is like huddling over a little girl, where the immoral deed can be entirely covered by the much larger assailant's body… barring that obscenely large cock forcibly tearing apart a tiny pussy. Even from my obstructed view, as I dive in to kiss her slovenly face, I can tell her vagina is one of a perfectly closed single-line slit, with not even the clitoris visible. Clean and without a speck of pubic hair showing through, it bulges in and stretches out tremendously as my entire length is forcibly stuffed into her, the friction between my shaft and her intensely wet pussy so great the lubrication is barely enough to make it comfortable for her, even though she's squirting out various juices like no tomorrow. I guess even her liquid-holding capacity is reduced at this size, like the difference in bladder size between an adult and a child.

"Ooh! OOOOOHHH!"

I was expecting some kind of farting noise from the vacuum inadvertently created when I'm pistoning into a pair of airtight pussy lips, but she's now slick enough all which is coming out is just a cacophony wet noises. I hold back from thrusting all the way this time, choosing to precisely stimulating certain spots in her pussy with rough, powerful, yet quick movement, akin to repeatedly scrubbing her walls with great strength. Her hips and legs tremble, as finally a sweet moan escapes her lips instead of the rather masculine sounds I inadvertently pump out of her from her lower half.

It may look rushed and violent from the outside, when taking into account the scale involved – my cock is about the size of her shin – but I'm being very deliberate. Prying open that pristine, tightly-shut opening with just the tip of my urethra remaining inside her, seeing her still-covered erect clitoris droop down and got fiercely rubbed by my gland's thickest point. Forcing in the first third of my bulging, stiff rod at a slight upwards angle, ensuring my tip shoves her G-spot and the rougher ridges right underneath her clitoral root. Then, pushing in alongside her middle walls, using my weight to stimulate the thin wall separating her vagina from her anus – more sensitive on Chiyome due to her aforementioned organ-altering ability – by scraping it as if my cock is a whetstone. Finally, her swollen and tender womb, already overstimulated from my first few all-the-way thrusts – gets gingerly teased and poked, not too dissimilar from how I brought Danzō to mindlessness last night, carefully poking and kneading it with as much gentility as I would kneading mochi.

- Spurt! Spurt! Spraaay…

"Oh~ ! OOH!"

…which is not that gentle, actually, when I think of it. 'That's a bad analogy,' I declare to myself. Trust me, I'm going much, much gentler than that.

Meanwhile, my one free hand travels down from her face to her overly-erect nipples, her breasts' reduced size making their stiffness more prominent. With just the tip of my thumb, I tease them interchangeably with circular motions, slowly moving them around and playing with them lovingly. Her moans get higher in pitch, as a touch of breathlessness interrupts her voice every now and then, following how hard my cock is railing her pussy.

- Whump! Whump! Slap! Whump!

I'm not sure whether she's already in a state of orgasm, so I'm going to treat her like she has. A woman's body has its sensitivity enhanced for brief moments after orgasm, unlike males who are much harder to please to reach a similar state, and overhandling it with a body as immature as the current Chiyome can be painful and not pleasurable at all. That's why, objectively speaking, it's so costly to train child prostitutes since it's very difficult to accustom them to the world of sexual pleasures, where continuous stimulation is the norm. At most, the kids would cum once and cry for the next several minutes, tortured and in pain at the hands of insensitive adults. This applies to both girls and boys.

Luckily, it's only mostly her appearance which has changed. Her sexual capacity is still the same, if not higher due to the newly-formed nervous systems.

As I grow more familiar with how narrow and short her pussy is, I begin to modulate my stroke length to only exactly that. Any more exaggerated, and I'll simply pop out or needlessly skewer her right into her abdominal space, and any shorter, I won't cause the necessary pleasurable pressure, making her snap out of this heavenly haze and perhaps scold me for playing with her, instead of seriously breeding her womb.

"OHIIII~ …! Ah…!""

Well, honestly… this is how I usually do it. No need to be so precise as if in a competitive dance on who should be the dominant party, like my mind games with Danzō last night. Simply be sincere with every thrust and cum, letting one's spiritual and mental guard down to truly mind-meld with the other party and achieve our goal together.

Slowly, with every pounding, her uterus begins to stiffen and not as forgiving as earlier – a sign of her increasing arousal, the opposite of women who usually has achieved portio orgasm because of Chiyome's unique disposition.

- Plop!

…and it happens: the thing I've mentioned before.

All of a sudden, the suffocating pressure all along my cock lightens, replaced by the warm comfort of thick, soft ridges – a combination of her vaginal and anal tunnel. I don't even need to visually check down below to know her crotch now only has one large hole, though saying it's 'loose' is very far from the truth. Her oh-too-small body merely adjusts and expands to perfectly match my size, if just a tad tighter than my other wives.

- Twitch… Twitch… Twitch…

I haven't gotten into details on what it's like to fuck a cloaca, so I should perhaps elaborate.

Most men know what a vagina feels like. A lesser amount, yet still numerous, know very well what an anus feels like. A luckier, even smaller number know what both feels like. And a rare group who somehow has two penises attached to their groin know what it feels like to simultaneously fuck both – for example, the various smaller fertility deities with multiple genitals.

"Hah!"

Generally speaking, a pussy grips and twists more like soft sandpaper, the friction generated between it and a cock providing most of the pleasure in an intercourse, with select points in the organ giving much more powerful stimulation. Because its natural use is actually solely for reproduction and not pleasure, it's usually tighter than an anal tract which is in use and trained to spread open since childhood to avoid digestive problems. The widest a little girl's pussy can naturally spread is actually merely the width of her urethra, so piss can comfortably clear the pussy lips, avoid accumulation and infection right there. As she grows up, it slowly spreads to allow for primary sexual characteristics development – in short, menstrual blood coming down from the womb.

In contrast, as is dictated in most life on earth, excretion tracts are active since the moment one is born. Hence, it's far more flexible to account for emergencies and accidents until one reaches a certain age, from which it has to be trained to maintain its flexibility. This is why in ancient prostitution spots, where underage sex was legalized and common sense was warped, the first 'courses' recommended to low-paying customers were anal. Vaginal virginities, even until now, are priced astronomically, followed by regular sex due to their pregnancy risk and higher maintenance cost. Anal sex, on the other hand, is considerably cheaper and can be done from a much younger age, prolonging the 'productive age' of the young prostitutes – boy or girl. For adults who have the luck to try it – I am included in this group – an intestinal tract is far softer and inclusive, gently massaging a penis's entire length. The bowel control instinctive to most intelligent beings is easier to control, pushing and sucking in one's cock alternatively. Besides, the anal tract is far longer and wider than a vaginal one, enabling men who're extremely well-endowed – again, I proudly include myself in this group – greater rein of freedom without fear of hurting one's partner.

The drawbacks are mostly hygiene-based – though that's easily taken care of with Magecraft nowadays – and the more intense heat owing to the larger blood vessels running around this organ. But the latter can also be a draw to people with some proclivities.

…yes, including me. I'm sure other men, if fortunate enough to fuck Kippōshi in the ass without having their heads blown off, would suffer due to the even higher internal body temperature – I joke it's enough to brew tea with, if she so chooses that debauched play in the future – and have their cocks burnt.

Then, how does it feel when the aforementioned positive points are combined together? Heavenly, of course.

The intense heat of her asshole and rectum, combined with the all-round pressure of her pussy and womb, grip my cock's entire girth. The expansion enables my whole thing to go into her, plunged all the way to my balls, sinking my body deeper. Her womb retracts accordingly, to the point my cock's tip can merely kiss it tenderly, instead of pounding it roughly like before. However, the nearly-painful bone-crushing suction from earlier is replaced by a mature, soft, gentle embrace, feeling as if her walls have grown thicker papillae similar to jellyfish Medousianae, stroking me with numerous tentacles.

"OOOOHHH~ ! HGYAAH~ !"

Honestly, I don't know what an actual snake's cloaca feels like, since obviously both Medousiana and Chiyome are supernatural beings. Even doing it with the Gorgon's full appearance out for show, it's no guarantee it perfectly replicates the real deal, unlike some species of mermaids who have genuine fish-like reproductive organs and a human upper half, or some local yōkais who have only their foremost half of their skull resembling an attractive human, and the rest of their body clearly inhuman – though oftentimes still somewhat arousing and not monstrous. Insect-type yōkai makes up the majority of this group, though mammal-type yōkai are popular too.

Too popular, in fact, that Himiko seems to have strange ideas and confidence she can arouse me now. Or a few years later, if what she claims are to be believed. It seems the Minamoto Clan's bloodline has a weakness against the fluff of canine tails, so this forms the basis of her theory.

"Cumming! Cumming~ ! Ah~ ! Ahii~ !"

Chiyome is still moaning and mewling, though surprisingly rather quietly despite her mouth being wide open and tongue uncontrollably erected out. Besides the well-trained workers and maids around her, the two of us have installed a simple privacy Bounded Field to prevent sounds and smells from spreading out, as well as a basic confusing spell weaved in to prevent opportunistic voyeurs peeking in. Perhaps her vocal cords also reverted back to her original spec, removing her ability to bellow out war commands on the battlefield? Come to think of it, I rarely hear her raise her voice, even against people she dislikes. She's the type to swing her knives first, then ask questions later, befitting her legendary status as the first publicly-acknowledged kunoichi.

My musings have distracted me from the sex, and the amount of creamy white mixture flowing down between our thighs tells me I've already ejaculated once, maybe shortly after her body transforms due to the surprising change pushing her stimulation over the edge of what my cock can unconsciously handle. Realizing this, I raise my upper body to give me room to move her around, and like a sex doll, lift Chiyome up away from my cock for a moment, flip her onto her stomach – her limbs have gone far too soft to attempt any form of doggy style – and press her flat. With one additional smooth motion, and with my entire weight atop of her like before, I hilt myself fully in her again.

"Wha…!? HGYAAHH~ ! NYOWAH~ …!"

This position enables me to hug her better, much like an inanimate pillow. Hence, I slide one arm underneath her neck, half-wrapping it around that too-thin limb, gently pressing against her main respiratory and circulatory tubes. The other catches one of her own arms which flails about the instant she feels her cloaca penetrated again up to the brim, pinning it down to the ground in a show of control and dominance. Her other hand desperately tries to wiggle between my forearm and her neck, and failing that, between my forearm and the soft grass underneath us, but she's finding it to be difficult with me pressing down with my whole body.

I entangle our legs together, taking advantage of her legs' instinctive jolt during the aforementioned insertion. Snakes mate by twisting and twirling around each other anyway – a fact Medousiana was all too happy to demonstrate to me when her body fully matures – so perhaps Chiyome has an inkling of sympathy towards that behaviour. In contrast to that previous life of mine, however, I'm the one wrapping around my lovely small wife like an anaconda, instead of numerous and monstrously-large serpentine violet limbs piling atop and smothering me with their surprisingly comfortable heat.

"Oho~ Hah~ Ohh… Hah~ Ha~ "

I rest my face in the nook of her nape, past her typically-gorgeous hair, half-intentionally pressing her own face towards the ground and muffling any sort of deep breath she's attempting to take. The pressure on her trachea and aorta increases, causing her to struggle more and more, some chokes managing to come out of her stilled voice. Still, the pressure from my hips don't relent, piledriving her to the ground with careful, measured, but powerful downwards stabs. That's the only respite she has: the room my movement creates around her hips, but she's too belligerent from the pleasure and upcoming asphyxiation to take advantage. In fact, her lower body has betrayed her upper one and rhythmically matches my downwards movement with her upwards motion, however minute it is.

"Hff~ ! AHNGH~ !"

To be frank – and I'll never say this to her out loud – pounding a… rather bony ass isn't as exciting as playing with Danzō's plump rump, where I can feel an elastic yet soft feedback through my hips every time I slam my crotch into it. The attraction with one Chiyome's size is the undersized factor and contrast, eliciting a man's sense of immorality by seeing an oversized rod disappear underneath and into an impossibly small warm hole, where a lot of bloody tearing should occur for the unprepared. My position naturally doesn't allow me that luxury unless I'm willing to waste my focus and use Pure Eyes, instead of using it to fulfil my wife's earlier masochistic fantasy.

It's now nothing but choked sobs and gasps, her raspy voice repeating my name just like our first time all those years ago, "Shirō… Shirō… Shirōōōōōōōōōōōōōō…!"

It just makes me tighten my hold around her neck just that little bit more. I can feel her getting lightheaded from how the strength in her neck sapping away, going more and more limp under my playful suckling of her nape. In the next two seconds, she convulses in orgasm, her scream completely stopped by the pressure around her throat. I know her eyes are rolling back and she's about to pass out, so I relax my hold slightly so her body instinctively gulps in just enough air to prevent just that, drowning in the sudden excess of oxygen available to her brain.

"OHHH~ ! AHH~ ! OHH~ !"

This is the only reason an intelligent human being can get addicted to violence being enacted towards them. They crave that one large dose of dopamine released from their brain triggered by any influx of relief interspersed among longer sessions of pain and torture. In milder cases, this manifests in thrill seekers and adrenaline junkies, where the brush with death at the end of a long physical slog is their minute doses of reward. During sex, oxygen is enough of a drug to forcibly push another into this state, and because it's relatively easy to control, it's become popular. Triggering this through shocks of pain is more difficult, and requires a more experienced hand.

Chiyome once praises me for my warrior's body, so perhaps the contours of my hardened muscles on her back give additional points of arousal to her. Of course, this is far from the most stimulating thing occupying her mind right now, so I should continue.

The break I intentionally give her is short – far too short for her faculties to start working again, or for her to say anything to stop me. It's another set of thrusts, aimed erratically as if I'm trying to mess up her internal space, the only constant being the tempo of which I give back these 'breaks'. However, with her current mental state, she's likely unaware of this regularity, constantly grasping and clawing at my arm around her neck as she chases that next gulp of fresh air. Her small body vibrates underneath me, as its rebellious flailing picks up so much in speed it becomes so, and the legs entwined around mind have gone stiff. The only form of physical protest I allow her is the natural vertical gap around my hold, so she can writhe forwards and backwards underneath my body, but nothing more than that.

She cums again, this time with a squirt as powerful as her first one today. The small upwards jerk buries my cock even deeper within her as it's just at the time I'm swinging my hips downwards, earning another dying groan from deep within her meagre chest. Her nipples are surely supremely stiff right now, being constantly stimulated to the point of pain via them rubbing against the grass roughly – ditto the engorged clitoris I can feel occasionally bumping against the uneven ground, as her current size means its erection is even more pronounced.

However, this orgasm doesn't coincide with my planned 'break', so I simply tighten my chokehold according to plan. She wheezes and squeaks like a frog, but knowing her actual physical endurance, this is actually still well within her safety margin. In fact, even if I accidentally break her neck, she can snap it back correctly in moments due to her unique constitution.

In fact, just like the previous three nights, I don't have much control over my ejaculation, having decided these four days are the time to let go of my inhibition before the words like 'responsibility' and 'fatherhood' become shackles around my freedom. Like earlier when I cummed without noticing it, her erratic and uncontrollable orgasms continuously send tremors throughout my cock and right into my testicles – which have been slapping against her equally-trembling small butt – edging me towards my own climax without pause.

A few more powerful thrusts, to the point I don't think I've ever slammed my crotch into a woman harder than this, and my vision goes white. Unlike Danzō, with whom I feel my soul is getting sucked out, I can clearly feel her tiny womb being nourished and filled by my semen without losing too much of my consciousness, and this sensation actually gives me energy to do a next bout, seeing Chiyome is croaking inside my hold.

I forcibly tilt her head upwards, my forearm still against her neck, giving me the immoral view of a bluish face combined with a reddish lower half, eyes and tongue bulging out under the strain.

- Chu…

I lean in and suck her tongue with a sloppy kiss, before letting go and preparing for another round.