032 - How to hit where it hurts and make death a mercy


"Well, that monkey is going to die."

There are some things in this world that are undeniably true. The sky is blue, the sun rises from the east, if you piss off Karasuba you're going to die. The crippled feather's enthusiastic agreement was neither asked nor required, but it wasn't unwelcome either. A good chance to bond with fellow flockmates over something she actually enjoys.

Better than those silly dramas or the nonsensical unrealistic video games the brats usually kill time with. These always have her running out of patience and walking away halfway through it in search for something actually interesting, or at least useful, to do.

What? Just because Karasuba doesn't join them in their childish pursuits doesn't mean she's not trying in her own way.

(She is trying, okay?)

"Well, that's that. Karasuba-sama alone was overkill already, but Akitsu looks fired up too." Haihane chirps cheerfully from her seat. "I guess hanging the guy by his own entrails and preserving the view on ice for posterity counts as curtailing his political power."

The ash brat does her best to look unconcerned, still attacking the food in front of her as if it owed her money. It doesn't mean the way her free hand is subtly gripping the seat of her own chair hard enough to deform the metal goes unnoticed. Cheeky brat is a thousand years too early to sneak one past Karasuba.

"I'm not sure about that." Momo-chan comments, immediately grinding Karasuba's elaborate fantasies plans for putting that idiotic monkey in his place to a halt. "It occurs to me… That the good Senator has given us the perfect opening to accomplish our goals in record time."

"Well, yeah." She growls out threateningly, frustrated at the implications of these words. It's not like Momo-chan is going to feel intimidated, but some habits die hard. "He's not going to have any influence after I'm done playing Pop-up Pirate with his internal organs!"

As expected, Momo-chan doesn't even twitch, taking her time to twirl the drink on her glass before giving an answer. "Death is kind, Karasuba."

That's not an answer Karasuba was expecting.

"Ah?"

…Nor one she has a coherent answer for, apparently.

She refuses to blush as she waits for an elaboration, even if she's reasonably sure the brats are inwardly laughing at her face right now. She'll have to kick their asses later in a spar, remind them who is top dog around here.

Momo-chan takes her time savoring her drink before putting the glass down to fix Karasuba with these intense golden eyes of hers that never fail to cause a shiver of anticipation.

"The dead are beyond suffering." She states plainly, a sharp smile slowly stretching her lips. "That's why the term 'A fate worse than death' exists."

Karasuba… doesn't know what to make of the deeper implications of that answer, but firmly puts it in the later box of her mind to focus on the pressing matters. Because she trusts her Ashikabi with a lot, more than she ever expected to trust any monkey with, but there's a picture forming in her mind that she needs to make sure never becomes a reality.

Just in case.

"Oh? Another of your 'growing in every direction' things?" She asks with a deceitful lightness, hiding a seriousness that she's sure Momo-chan has picked up on. Heck, judging by how she seems about to soil herself, even Kochou seems to have picked up on it. "You understand there are some things I won't stand for my Ashikabi doing, I'm sure."

Karasuba doesn't consider herself a jealous person, but if Momo-chan tries to take the monkey up his offer in some sort of messed up seduction play… Well, she'll enable her Ashikabi's worst habits with a smile on her lips, but prostitution is where she draws the line. It's just a matter of pride.

"And I wouldn't have it any other way, but it won't come to that." Momo-chan answers with an amused smile that makes Karasuba feel like an idiot just for considering that possibility. "Just give this a chance, Karasuba. you might be surprised."

"Only because it's you asking, Momo-chan." Stupid sexy Ashikabi, making unfair requests. She concedes magnanimously, but not without making sure to deliver a warning at the same time. "Don't ever forget it."

"I wouldn't dare."

Her piece said, Karasuba gets up from the table to catch fresh air and hopefully bait some idiot into letting her blow some steam. Momo-chan will be fine without her. The brats are nowhere near her level, but they'll be on top of anything this place can throw at them. And Momo-chan herself is no slouch either.

She needs some space to think to kill something and the senator monkey is obviously off the menu now.

'Death is kind.' Momo-chan's words echo into her mind as she leaves the hotel building behind to walk into the night. 'The dead are beyond suffering.'

(Yume and also…)

She's (for a long time) always thought differently. As an intrinsic part of her philosophy of the strong, death and cruelty have been intertwined for so long that she doesn't even know where one starts and the other ends.

If death can be kindness… where does that leave her?


Much later into the evening, Senator Esposito made his way to the hotel's lounge room. As soon as she saw him, the hot latina he called his wife excused herself and broke away from the couple of very attractive women she was talking with to join him.

"Husband." She greets him in a smoky voice, desire and adoration swimming on these jet black eyes of hers.

"Lola, my beloved wife." He greets back with a smile. "How are things going with that Asu– Ahisha– That chick with the aliens?"

The enforcers of that madman who bought Tokyo choose to take a vacation at the same place he does and they expect the move to go unnoticed? Please. There's being unsubtle and then there's trampling over the place like a bull in a china shop. He knew they were here for him the moment their flight was scheduled.

"The… ah, lady in question doesn't seem to have an interest in the stronger sex, sir." The woman answers, falling back to the professional tone she uses when on the clock. "Though she seems receptive to my advances, at least."

The funny thing is that no matter whether these aliens are capable of beating up battleships with their bare hands, they're aiming for subtlety here. To avoid upsetting their position by doing anything too public to a powerful public personality like him, no doubt. This means their strength isn't even a factor. And he can play subtlety games with these whippersnappers half asleep and with a hand tied to his back.

The fact they have an important weakness in the human they enslave themselves to is only tilting the scales even more unfairly in his favor.

"Well, that cinches it, hmmm? We have all night, so chat her up a bit more, nice and easy. Warm her to the idea and bring her up to the penthouse once she's a bit more… receptive." As he says that, he holds both her hands and pulls her closer for a kiss, using the gesture to cover up the fact that he's passed her a small bottle containing a very special liquid. "I'll be up there killing some time while you work your magic. There are some papers that 'couldn't possibly wait until I'm back from my vacation' fucking useless youngsters can't do anything without me."

His wife giggles at the way he rolls his eyes dramatically and, after sharing another tame kiss, they part ways again.

Lola rejoins the Achicha– the target and that alien chic with the huge tits and he turns around to make his way back to the penthouse.

Nothing distracts him on his way and soon he's inside the most luxurious room in the whole island, pouring himself a drink, taking a seat at the big mahogany desk that's almost as good as the one back at his office and discreetly pressing the small button underneath the table. Once all surveillance and recording devices inside the suite have been disabled, he takes out some very compromising documents from his heavily secured suitcase and spreads them over the table to give them a quick once over.

… No, the key he gave the Jap bitch only works after he gives an electronic command to the lock, which will only happen when his guards let him know the right person is coming. The show at the restaurant was just that, a show. What sort of idiot goes around giving away keys to their sleeping quarters willy-nilly? That's just asking for trouble.

With a frustrated sigh and a sip from his drink -a fairly decent 50-year-old Appleton State- he resigns himself to killing time with something he had sworn not to touch for a week until that bombshell secret agent he made into his wife comes back with their prize for the night.

Man, that Momoko woman really makes the suit and glasses look work for her. Maybe he'll take her as his next wife? Breaking the conceited bitches into submissive little whores without ruining their usefulness is the real fun, but he likes to keep the best ones around to show off.

Lola is a fun girl, but it's been a while since he last got a divorce. And he can always keep her around as a mistress. And this one comes with extra bitches. Alien bitches. The wet dream of Captain Kirk.

It's at this point that he catches sight of something Dumb in the text he's going over, forcing him to interrupt his daydream to properly focus on the papers.

"What the– How have they managed to mess this up so badly!?" He mutters under his breath, flipping through the pages and finding more and more mistakes building up on each other, now that he knows what to look for. "I swear, fucking kids playing politics like they know what they're doing. Fucking… Useless… The lot of… them."

And then he says nothing else because he collapses face first on the table and starts snoring. Some of the oh-so-precious documents might end up sporting suspiciously drool-like stains.

Right above him, hiding between the crevices of the ornamental ceiling like a spider in a cavern crack, Haihane allows herself a smug hum. Using invisible strings to deliver drugs into someone's poured drinks sounds like the sort of fantasy bullshit that you don't see outside manga and anime, but she'd always wanted to try it for herself.

And would you look at that, it worked!

After making sure the man is asleep for real, she releases her grip on the ceiling, allowing gravity to deposit her back on the floor with an acrobatic flip. She still has to prepare the scene for what's coming next, but she has time to spare while Ashikabi-sama works her charm on the hot secret agent.

So she can afford to be a little silly before getting to work. Like, say, raising both hands in front of her face to make a very particular gesture and let out some choice words that are practically demanded of her at this point.

"Nin-nin!"


Senator Esposito opens his eyes with a groan, feeling a bit dizzy as he blinks owlishly. At first all he can see is blurry darkness without any sort of detail, accompanied by the extremely familiar scent of sex and female arousal and a somewhat less familiar noise that he takes a moment to place as his current wife's moans of pleasure.

Give him a break, he's been fucking around since high-school, but has only known her wife for five yers or so.

Shaking his head, he tries to dispel the dizziness and make sense of the situation. They had… plans for tonight, right? A bitch to bring to their bed to break together. But he can't remember… Did that start without him? Finally, his sight regains focus and he can take on the situation in front of him.

They are in the bedroom of the penthouse, that big and comfy-looking bed is unmistakable even with the sheets in disarray and the mattress askew. As unmistakable as Lola's big chocolate tits bouncing freely as the naked body of his wife writhes in pleasure all over it. The blonde bitch being still fully clothed as she sits to the side and expertly dominates Lola with her fingers alone is a bit more unexpected, but nothing to worry about.

A picture of the situation is starting to form in his mind. Obviously, Lola managed to accomplish her mission, like she always does. Successfully seduced the blonde bitch and talked her into that threesome she'd originally looked so reluctant about. Heh, knew it. In his experience, lesbians are a myth, there's only wet bitches and insufficiently wet bitches.

It seems like Lola has bitten more than she could chew, since the Japanese bitch is clearly the one in control here, but that's something he can easily solve. Grinning to himself, he stands up from his chair to–

—He stands–

…He…

It takes a couple of failed attempts before it finally dawns in his addled mind that he's been tied down to the chair. He struggles and tries to protest, only to -finally- realize he's been gagged too. He struggles some more, trying to break free, to kick the chair around, to do something!

But he's been too well-secured, he achieves nothing beyond some bruises where the wire that's been used to tie him down digs painfully into him.

Well, that's not true. He's managed to gain the attention of the blonde bitch, who looks up from the form of his wife to give him a dismissive glance… before unceremoniously putting him out of her mind to focus back on what she's doing.


Following guidelines, explicit content has been removed from this version of the story. You can find it on the Ao3 and QQ versions.


Senator Esposito is forced to watch, for hours. Forced to feel his defeat and powerlessness until the point is driven home. By the time the sun starts peeking over the horizon, his mental fortitude is a mess. His will to struggle crushed, his ego shattered. Still, he would've been capable of recovering it that had been all, of course. A man isn't broken in a handful of hours,

But it was then, when Lola finally collapsed out of sheer physical exhaustion, that the demon in human skin known as Shimada Momoko turned her full attention to him. That she revealed her knowledge about the documents still resting on top of the mahogany desk, enough to torpedo his political career by themselves. About his many, many questionably legal choices and deeds through the years, including something he was sure he had buried alongside the bodies of his old accomplices.

That she explained to him in graphic, fastidious detail, the many forms in which that information could, and would, be used to make his life a living hell. How every potential avenue he had for striking back or slipping away had been taken into consideration and preemptively neutered. How there was nothing he could do but comply with her demands.

How he was powerless, and she held all the power in her hands.

"I… I understand." He finally concedes with a defeated sigh. "Just, please, don't ruin my career! I'm more useful to you in power."

"Your… excesses will have to be curtailed, of course." The woman muses to herself, making it clear his times of picking up beautiful and competent women to break into his service were now over. "But you're not wrong."

"That's… I'm grateful for your mercy." He mutters piteously. Too tired, too broken, to try and put up a fight. "MBI will have my political backing in all endeavors."

"The MBI? Whoever gave you the impression that was what I wanted? No, you'll answer to me and me alone." The devil chuckles amusedly. "Rejoice, mister Esposito. For we both want to see that madman dragged down into the mud. Think of this whole situation as a simple… change in management."

Lola groans into wakefulness, weakly turning around to face the source of the voice. Her face illuminates with a glowing smile when she sees the devil. In the same fashion it used to do when she saw him.

"Lola, dear." The devil calls for her. "Are you up to the task of being his handler?"

"Don't worry, Mistress Shimada." She replies without hesitation. "The bastard caught me when I was young and inexperienced, but I know all his tricks by now. And they're nothing compared to yours."

"Good. I expect daily reports until further notice, you know how to reach me. And… if things end up becoming too much, don't be a self-sacrificing idiot and let me know. I'll arrange something else. Your happiness matters."

"Yes, Mistress Shimada!"

Acknowledging these words with a simple nod, the devil and the alien leave the room with casual gait, as if they hadn't just ruined his life forever. After providing hours of literally mind-breaking sex, her suit isn't even wrinkled.


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