I dedicate this story to Jschlatt.
Wukong, the Monkey King, was having a good time. Frankly, it was very difficult to imagine him not having a blast at this very moment. After all, having your ballsack in the process of being polished by a tongue was phenomenal.
Not only that, which was already quite spectacular, but it was his most favorite person in the world doing it. It was Ahri, his wife. His smoking hot wife. The raven tresses of her hair framed her beautiful, porcelain white face like the framing of an exquisite piece of fine art. Her amber eyes glimmered with not only lust, which was a prevalent presence in their abode at this very moment, but also with a great joy.
Wukong was blessed to have such a depraved entity be his wife. Not that he, himself, was not depraved in any kind - in fact, he could be described as more fiendish even than her - but what mattered was the fact that she kept up with him. She could match his absurdity, and, not only that, but she could sometimes outdo him. Much like what she was doing currently.
Her tongue moved over the engorged surface of his massive testes, applying a thick layer of saliva, which was not bound to do anything to improve their upcoming endeavour - of having bed-breaking sex - but it definitely did make both of them feel good, each in their own different ways.
Wukong enjoyed this greatly. After all, being a vastaya of his stature meant that he tended to miss out on moments that could be spent relaxing, releasing pent up steam… Or emptying his nuts. The latter, of course, was the rarest occurrence, and even though his wife had, at one point, been a sex-crazed fiend, he just tended not to have enough time to enjoy the wiles of the flesh.
However, today was an exception. Ahri skillfully moved her tongue over his ball-sack, lapping at the slightly sweaty orbs. If Wukong did not know already, he would assume that she was under some sort of spell. He did know, though, and what he knew was that his wife really enjoyed pleasing. Not only that, but she had informed him, on multiple occasions, that the salty taste of his testes, after a long day of work and sweating as a result of physical exertion, was her favourite.
Thus, Wukong tended to avoid showering as soon as he got home, instead opting to just recline on the bed - which was already broken, for they had stopped fixing it due to the intensity of their coitus - and allowing his wife to have a taste.
That activity, of allowing one to sample the goods, got him excited. Not only because of the proximity of her beautiful face to his most foul area, but also because of the fact that he was getting directly stimulated. After all, that was the most prominent part of his reproductive system. These big balls, each being about as large as an apple, were his pride and joy. They wobbled whenever he walked, which was part of the reason for his choice of attire.
Not only was he forced to wander about with a pseudo-skirt, his manner of moving was affected in a very peculiar way. He could not quite run as a person did, and so his means of transportation involved him relying on an arm to support his weight, from time to time. Though, he was a monkey, and that was how some monkeys moved about. Using their arms in conjunction with their legs. It was somewhat natural for him.
Even though this great drawback was a factor - balls too big - he still found great pleasure and amusement out of being blessed with them. Not only was it straight up fun to play with them, but he also came hard. His sperm production was outstanding, as one would expect out of a person with balls almost as big as his clenched fists, and it was also very potent.
On top of that, currently, his desire to deposit some of his virile seed inside of his wife's welcoming womb was growing. She peeked from beyond the two mountain-esque testicles she had been gently caressing with her tongue and wiggled her eyebrows.
"Excited, aren't we?" she inquired in a most salacious manner, a smile adorning her beautiful face. The marks on her cheeks really made it easy to focus on the center of her visage, as they were reminiscent of pointers, or arrows directing one's gaze to her full, luscious lips, currently moist with saliva and enhanced by the presence of some stray pubic hairs.
"You said it. Come on now, let's get to it!" Wukong confirmed and pushed himself up from his position. Ahri's smile grew even more sultry and she positioned herself in a manner most provocative. Turning herself around, placing her elbows and forearms on the bed, whilst her shins and feet laid down parallel to to its surface, she pushed her rear up.
Not only did her rump have a most fascinating, for Wukong, shape, but it was also very bountiful. She pushed it out and curved her back so as to make her already considerably big ass even more pronounced. Ahri was an expert, after all. And, knowing that much, Wukong could not wait to have the wildest ride of the day.
Her tails moved about in gentle, almost elegant patterns, some brushing past the Monkey King's face, and he really found that pleasant. It was almost like being pet… Or, rather, it was almost like petting an animal and having said animal rub against you in a sign of affection. He appreciated physical contact and so he was about to engage in an even more intimate activity.
His pecker, which was, proportionally, a lot smaller than his balls, was as hard as a rock. Maybe even harder, considering the fact that his skin was tough as stone - and that was true. He had often urged his detractors to look up the legend of his being. After all, he was not just any ordinary vastaya - he was the Monkey King. And a king… Well, a king deserved a very magnificent lady for his wife.
Ahri was just that. She wiggled her rear at him enticingly and he figured that there was no point in waiting anymore. He stood on his legs, positioned himself so as to be above her fat ass, and aligned the tip of his cock with the entrance to her deepest parts.
Without a word, he slid his member inside of her. Her moist cooter immediately swallowed up the entirety of his cock and he gave out a groan of pleasure. The pressure was just right. The warmth of her inner folds was absolutely perfect. The sensations he found himself experiencing were sublime.
Going at it 'doggy style', as he had found out it was called by the humans, was his favourite. Not only that, but it was her favourite as well. It was so lewd, in a sense, for it made them feel closer to animals than to people. The manner in which they positioned themselves, the nature of their activity, the sounds they produced whilst doing it - it was all very primal, very lacking in any rationale. That obscenity, the inappropriate nature of it, was exactly why it was so desirable.
He had gotten acclimated. At least, as acclimated as one could be to perfection - which was not very acclimated, frankly. But, with where he was right now, he just could not wait any more for her, or for himself, to get a bit more used to the overwhelming sensations provided by their nethers entangling with one another. Wukong started thrusting. At first, as was customary, he was a bit slower, a bit gentler, but the beast within him, purposefully let out for this type of activity, kept urging him to go at it in earnest. To satisfy his cravings…
And, in no time, he was going at it full throttle. His balls swung heavily between his legs as his hips found themselves jerking forwards. His pelvis slapped against Ahri's massive rear and she moaned lewdly, indicating that she was feeling it. It was a very good feeling, he surmised. His wife was enjoying the rough treatment, but only because it was so fueled by her lust… And, of course, his own.
The smell of sex filled their home in no time. As they mated, furiously, wildly, with no regard for their surroundings, the bed creaked loudly, Wukong grunted and gasped, while Ahri moaned and wailed in bliss. Had they not broken their bed previously, and given up on fixing it up, it would have, probably, broken once more. The power with which Wukong was thrusting was absolutely ludicrous.
Her pussy tightened after an indeterminate amount of time. After all, during the process of lovemaking, time lost its meaning. The biological clocks of most beings found themselves functioning in an irregular manner, making the moment seem oh so short… And as the stimulation experienced by Wukong's cock grew in intensity, so, too, did the pleasure he derived from it.
That, coupled with just how pent up he was, meant that it was time to get the job done. Grasping his wife's hips, he pulled her massive rear against his pelvis, whilst thrusting with as great a power as he could, intent on shoving his man-meat as far inside her as it would go. His nuts clenched and he felt them churning. His cum fired out of his urethra, like water from a firehose.
Ahri threw her head back and screamed as she reached her own climax, while his grunts and growls merged with that high pitched cry of pleasure into a cacophony only identifiable as either the result of great lovemaking… Or a wrathful battle.
Fortunately for the both of them, it was the former, and, as a result of that, they could relax earnestly. He filled her up and it was a good filling. The sensation of having his balls get drained was astounding. It left him feeling so content, so satisfied with absolutely everything, it was almost inexplicable. As if his fiery spirit was tamed, or, maybe, momentarily weakened, to a state of needing rest.
He let out a loud sigh of relief as his ejaculation came to a close and he slid his cock out of his wife's pussy. Once more he laid down on the bed, reclining calmly. Head against the pillow, back on the mattress, his left leg bent at the knee, and his right raised so that his heel rested precisely above it. Placing his hands on his right leg's knee, he let out another sigh of relief.
That was life. Ahri, after catching her breath, crawled up to him and snuggled against his fuzzy frame. The warmth of her body against his own, her heartbeat going wild as it still struggled to calm down, he felt content, truly. After all, what more was there to it? All that needed to be done was to find joy. And, as far as it went for him, Wukong had found happiness.
He had the love of his life, he had all he could ever ask for. A roof over his head, food whenever he was hungry, and something to do… In all the senses of the word. What more, indeed, was there to it? Was life, or, rather, its meaning, bound to happiness and, if it was so, had he truly found it?
Well, if he were to ask himself that very question, he would say yes, at that moment. After all, if life's meaning was the pursuit of happiness, he might have achieved it. Having found the meaning in his life meant that he had nothing to worry about. All that was left was to simply live and enjoy what he had.
And that… Well, that was good.
They remained like that, snuggled against one another for a while. Breathing, feeling each other's life, enjoying the shared warmth and thinking about things. Or, maybe, not thinking. Just… Reclining. Calming themselves down from the great ordeal of making love. Wukong… He was not thinking about anything.
A King like himself - the Monkey King - needed not concern himself with anything. All he really needed was to have access to whatever it was that he desired at a given point in time. And much like other monkeys, when he had those things, he was more than willing to just laze about. Head empty, lacking any kind of thought, simply being. There was no great pondering to be done. No great mystery of life.
Time passed and Ahri calmed down. At one point, he almost found himself wondering if she had fallen asleep, but then she got up off of the bed and started in a direction. He watched her walk. Her plump rear jiggling slightly as the energetic stride carried her through the chamber. Her breasts also jiggled, and those were very noticeable, much like her rump. What a fine woman his wife was…
He stared off into the distance, proud, in a sense, of himself. He had gotten such a fine dame to marry him, it was absolutely a sign of his superiority. King and all that. However, one thing gnawed at the back of his mind. It was something he did not pay any attention to, at all, as there was no point in paying attention to such things, not when one was as content and as pleased with life, in general. However, that did not mean it was not there, somewhere in the background. Like a fly, in one's room.
Even if one tried abstracting themselves from the presence of the fly, it was still there. It was still annoying, by the sheer fact that it was there. It was prone to doing something nasty. Or, if the time was right, it would produce an annoying buzzing that would interfere with other activities. God forbid there was any food that was exposed, because that fucker would just immediately land on it and contaminate the whole thing.
And that little nuisance in Wukong's head - or, maybe, at the back of his head - was there. It was going to do something, at one point or another. But he could not quite put his finger on it - not that he wanted to, of course. He was… Reclining. Resting. Anything unpleasant was not welcome into his world. Not at the moment and, frankly, never at all.
"Wukong?" Ahri called from outside of the chamber currently occupied by the Monkey King. That was a bit strange. What would she be calling him for?
"Yes?" he shouted, making sure he would be heard. He did not want to get up, so he just hoped she would tell him whatever needed to be said. At least, as long as there was nothing that really needed doing.
"Can you come here?" she asked and Wukong felt a great pang of displeasure. There it was, that unpleasant thing. He was having such great fun, just lazing about, doing nothing, thinking about nothing, just… Being. He wanted to keep being, as he was right now, rather than going and doing something. It would ruin the fun of it. And he was having fun. Or was it actually fun? Well, definitely, it was amusing. That amusement of it all made him feel good. Having to cease would make him feel bad. And feeling not good - feeling bad - was not fun. Thus, feeling good was fun.
"Do I have to?" he inquired, hoping to avoid the need to get up, to cease his moment of great bliss. Then again, it was already over, for the fly had made an impression. His mind would wonder - 'what was it that she wants me to go there for?' Even if there was no need of his presence, he would be bothered by it.
"Yes!" She sternly answered and he did not like that. With a groan, a very loud and pronounced one, filled with as much displeasure as he could muster, Wukong got up from the bed. He sighed and started moving. It was not the direction of the kitchen and it was neither the bath or the toilet. Ahri was waiting for him in the living room, in front of the tiny coffee table, her hands on her hips, and her beautiful face marred by a frown.
"Where are the pills?" That was not something Wukong had wanted to hear. It was the fly in the room. Or, rather, it was now an elephant. The thing at the back of his head - the thing he had not wanted to think about at all - was now here. And it was souring everything.
Ahri wanted to take birth control. She did not want a child - not yet, at least, if she were to be believed. Wukong, on the other hand, did not care all that much what it was that she wanted. She was his wife. She had the obligation to carry his offspring. That was how it was. She had agreed to that when she had taken his hand in marriage. It was simple. Thus, her being upset that he had not bought her birth control - which he had done many times before - was not reasonable.
"I don't know," Wukong said with a shrug of his shoulders. He really did not want to get out of bed… Especially if it were to be something like this. And they had been having such great fun just a moment earlier…
"How come you don't know? You're the one who bought them, so you know where they are!" Ahri objected to his statement, furrowing her brows. Her frown was now more of a scowl. She took that whole thing very seriously and, to Wukong, it was unfounded. Why did it matter? They were going to have a child at one point or another - what was the issue of that point being more adjacent rather than distant?
"I didn't buy any, so I don't know where they are. Probably at the store," he answered, as nonchalantly as he could. If he were to downplay the gravity of the situation - which, to him, appeared to be miniscule at best - maybe she, too, would calm down. But his demeanour did not actually seem to be at all to her liking.
"Wukong! I told you I need those pills!" she raised her voice. Ahri was angry. She was mad. That would have been understandable, if something really major had happened, but this was just something that was par for the course. And it was not that big an issue, either, he could probably go grab a pack of pills and be done with it.
But that was not it. The problem was different. She did not want a child. She did not want his child. He reasoned that this was the problem. And that was something very, very wrong. She was his wife, after all. She had to do what he wanted, otherwise… Things just would not be right. And that was truly not okay.
"What do you need those pills for, huh?" he raised his own voice. His brows furrowed as he whipped himself into an unpleasant mood. Thinking about it, he was becoming very upset. He continued, "you want them so you can just not have a baby, right? That's fucked up!"
"What?!" Ahri recoiled, as if he had stricken her with his words, as though they were in battle. A fight. "How can you say that- I thought we talked this through, I'll-"
"And when are you gonna be ready for a baby?" He shouted, baring his fangs. This was not the first time they were having a conversation of that nature. It was a topic that… Needed to be navigated carefully, at the very least. Wukong, however, was not all that careful this time. He kept speaking, his voice growing louder and louder, "It's your responsibility to have my child! You're my WIFE!"
Ahri stepped back in shock. They had, indeed, spoken about this before. They had talked it through, but, well, time passed. And as time passed, things that had occurred in the past were prone to be forgotten, or even misremembered. The passage of time was cruel to all who possessed sentience, as it could pass at different rates for different people. Maybe, Ahri figured that the amount of time that had passed was nowhere near enough for her to be ready for a child.
Wukong, on the other hand, was more than convinced that it was time they had a baby. He had given her more than enough time to get herself ready. He had taken up working for both of them and she could do whatever it was that she wanted to do whilst he was out and about, putting food on the table. And the gratitude he received? Well, there was none. She was not willing to do her duty, unlike him. He was dutiful indeed.
"Wukong… It's… It's my body!" She argued, or, at least, tried to. She did not seem all that upset at the moment - at least, not the wrathful variety… But Wukong, on the other hand, was becoming enraged by her words.
"YOU'RE MY WIFE!" He shouted, swinging his hands before himself, pointing at her. She took a step back. They were having a fight. And it was a fight of the most foul varieties. The one that could escalate to violence. Wukong then said, "You MUST have my children!"
"No, I- We talked about this, Wu! When I'm ready-"
"WHEN ARE YOU GOING TO BE READY?" he interrupted her, roaring. Wukong now was more reminiscent of a wild ape, taken by a vicious rage. It was as if all his ability to reason was gone. He would not have it any way other than his own. "When my balls have shriveled up and I can no longer have children?"
"No! We'll… We'll talk about it, okay? Please calm down…" she begged. Her eyebrows had risen to the center of her forehead, her ears had slumped down and her eyes were wide with fear. Wukong was imposing. He was not only tall, but his broad frame and powerful form were very intimidating. And when he was angry… Things were very uncertain.
"NO, WE WON'T! We've talked about it over and over! You're having my child, NOW!" Wukong growled, pointing at her. His hand was very close to her face and, in another situation, she would have nuzzled against it… But, well, this was not a favorable moment. If she were to think this through, if she was not so terrified, if her mind was not altered by the chemicals, by the fight or flight response to such situations, she would have thought. And she would have reacted appropriately. But, on a subconscious level, she chose fight, rather than flight.
"NO!" she screamed back at him. In a fit of blind rage, he swung his arm. His great power made his swing swift - faster than any ordinary movement - and also far more dangerous. The back of his hand slammed against her face and sent her flying. She did not even manage to yelp, that was how incredibly startling the action of her husband had been.
Ahri fell down... Onto the table. A deafening thud filled the room and then silence.
Wukong took a moment to realize what he had done. He looked down at his wife, and his eyes widened as he took note of the fact that she was not moving. The Monkey King felt as though a bucket of ice-cold water had been splashed over his body. His hairs straightened and a deathly shiver ran up his spine.
"Ahri?" he knelt down, worry making his voice tremble with uncertainty. What had happened? What had he done? There was no time to wonder, for at the moment, Ahri was most important. But as he laid his hands upon her, as he gave her cheek a little slap, as he nudged her body, he started growing more than just worried.
She was not responding to his call. So he cried out once more, "Ahri!"
But she did not say anything. He opened her eyes - they were glazed over. He felt something - something that he had never felt before. Something that was fundamentally horrible. Truly and utterly shaking him to his very core… Or, rather, grabbing the essence of his being and shredding it. Altering it to such an extent that he would be unable to exist as he had previously.
Realization was setting in. How could he have been angry enough, how could his rage have been great enough to throw him into a wrathful fit, so unbelievably potent… That it would lead him… To kill?
He placed his fingers on her neck, trying to find a pulse. Alas, there was nothing. Ahri was no longer with him. She was dead.
That was something he just could not accept. She was still so warm, so beautiful, so life-like… But there was something. Something very wrong with that picture of her he was painting. Her cheek was horribly bruised. It was purple and swollen. The silence left after his own voice had carried her name was deafening.
He had… He had killed his own wife.
Wukong embraced her, calling her name once more. A sting in his eyes made itself known. And, without even trying to fight them back, Wukong allowed his tears to flow freely down his fuzzy cheeks. His eyes were shaking. Shuddering. Everything in his field of view was not right. It was foggy, it was just not as it should have been.
The blood on the table's edge, the blood slowly pooling beneath Ahri, painting his own hands a crimson that was so terrifyingly red that he felt his stomach turn, his manhood shrivel up, and his will fade away. She was dead.
And it was not that she was simply dead. He had killed her. How could that have ever happened? Was he not meant to be the one to protect her? The man protects the family, after all. And he had been the man. He was her husband, and she was his wife. She was frail, and fragile, and he had to take care of her. To make sure nothing bad happened to her…
But why? Why had he done this? Why had things gone the way they had? She was dead. It was sinking in, slowly, but he had to keep telling himself that she was dead. Or, rather, it was not him having the need to keep telling himself, it was his inability to believe it was true that forced him to reiterate, again and again.
She was gone.
There was something left of her - her body, but she… Ahri… She was gone. There was no more of her. And he had done it. Wukong doubled over, shielding her body with his own frame. It was far too late. What enemy was there that he could protect her from, when he had been the one to do this to her?
All that rage, all that power he had wielded just a moment ago, gone. As if it had been blown away by a gust of wind… It had been that inconsequential, that temporary, that inefficient at sticking to his being. And yet it had, actually, been truly the most consequential thing to have ever come from him.
Monkey King or not, he could not raise the dead. He could not bring Ahri back from the dead. And as it seemed, he was no great king, either. For what kind of great king allowed his people to perish? What kind of great king killed his own people? Had he any right to be king, when he could not protect his own wife? His own family? Had he any right to be king, or a husband, when he had killed his wife?
What was it that had made him do this thing? How had it even happened? How, he could not think of an answer, but it kept bothering him. No, it was not bothering him. It was bearing down upon him, like a weight so great it made his entire frame hurt. A pain unlike anything he had ever experienced before. A hole in his heart, a hole where his existence was.
That moment of utter bliss that had passed so quickly, and had been replaced by this immense dread, by this unfathomable absence of anything… Be it meaning or reason. Wukong cried. He wept openly, and he was unable to do anything about the situation at hand.
It would have been describable as funny, if one were to observe it whilst abstracted from the emotional aspect of it. Funny, indeed, how he wielded the power to kill, and it had come with such ease, but the ability to heal, to counteract the power to kill… That was far beyond his abilities. If he had the need to kill, it was easy. It came naturally to him. But, he was so helpless when the need was different.
His wife… No, it was Ahri. It was not his wife. She… She did not belong to him. She had never belonged to him, now he recognized. After all, if she was, truly, his, she would not be gone. She would not be missing from his life in this manner that she currently was.
This was not right. And, truly, the correctness of the situation was different from the one he observed previously. That fly, at the back of his head, had, indeed, found the food - in this case, his life - and had contaminated it irreversibly. In this moment, in that prolonged, indefinite emptiness that had taken hold of Wukong, he knew that this was his doing.
He could not bear it. Who could? He was no monster, or, at the very least, he thought of himself as a person. As a being of reason, a sentient entity. A vastaya was not a monster… And yet there he was. No matter how human he appeared, no matter what he ended up doing - even if her were to cut off his tail, if he were to shave his entire body, he would still be just that - a monster. And there was nothing that could be done about it. He had committed such a monstrous, such a horrible, unreasonable, unfitting for a sapient entity deed… That he had, undoubtedly, forfeited his right to be referred to as such.
He kissed her on the forehead, feeling his resolve quaking. What was he to do? A great shame it was, indeed, but he knew not what to do. He could not bear it, though. That weight, which had fallen onto his shoulders, dropped there by his own self… It was far too great. And it was something that had been absent up until this point. Was it his conscience? If so, why had it not shown up earlier?
Was something wrong with him? He did not know. And, yet, he thought there was nothing wrong with him, quite uncharacteristically for a person who had committed such an act. Whereas any ordinary individual would try to find a means of shifting the blame, of averting the fault from themselves, Wukong knew that it was his fault. His folly… His mistake.
He ran outside of his home. He ran, leaving Ahri behind. Or, rather, he left her body behind. Ahri… Ahri was gone. And, perhaps, as he ran, he was running towards her. After her. Maybe, in his confused daze, he thought to himself that he could catch up to her soul, to make her his own again. But, alas, she had never been his. She was not an object so as to be treated as property, so that ownership of her could be assigned to somebody else.
Wukong ran, and he was running without a goal, other than to just run. It was all very subconscious, at this point. What was going through his head, he wondered, and he could not know. After all… There was nothing but this feeling, this unflinching knowledge. This sensation of worthlessness, of wrongness, of recognition of his mistake, of desire to have it all be just a dream, a hallucination…
But, well, it was not that. It was true. As the Monkey King ran, and madness took him, he knew that the emotion coursing through his veins was one that would not allow him to continue on living. And, what little was left of his reasoning, all pointed in one single direction.
There it was, up ahead. A cliff, beyond which… There was nothing but sea and the jagged edges of the rocks beneath. As he sped towards it, he thought about Ahri. He remembered all the good things that had come of him knowing her. All the meaning to his life… It had not been to be happy, but it had been to be with her. Or so he thought, as he leaped from the cliff.
Whilst barreling down towards his death, there was only one thing on his mind.
Regret.
