<b>Motoko</b>
The cold wind whipped around my nude body as I performed my practice kata. This was of course completely normal. Why shouldn’t it be? The human form was natural, and clothing would provide naught but a distraction where the mind must be focused. Clothing encouraged a kind of deception, keeping the body hidden from view. Clothing encouraged impure thoughts far more readily and easily than nudity. These views might have seemed counterintuitive, but to my mind they seemed completely within the realm of self-contained logic. These views seemed completely normal.
My thoughts drew towards our new manager, as seemed inevitable. It seemed uncharacteristically careless of Granny Hina to leave our care in the hands of her grandson. Her <i>male</i> grandson. He seemed rather clumsy as well. No, not a worthy replacement by any measure. The thought that I and my fellow dorm mates would have to regularly cup his genitals by way of greeting and permit him to attend to our bathroom needs filled me with discomfort, but again, the normal needs of society being what they are, it would be unseemly were I to refuse.
The more I considered the matter, the more likely it seemed that Naru’s plan was the most likely to succeed. The only way to convince a man to leave a place like this where he would be surrounded by girls was to make the negatives outweigh the positives, and that simply had to involve back-breaking labour. Particularly when they were as perverted as this gentleman seemed to be.
“Good morning, Motoko!” cheerily called the focus of my thoughts. I scowled upon remembering another normal mode of behaviour that I had to obey. “Still not wearing any clothes, I see… It’s a nice day, isn’t it?”
“Much better now that you’re here,” I said in the sultriest voice I could conjure. I adjusted my body language, put a great deal more sway into my steps than I would ever normally utilize. Such a waste of energy when a straightforward step would carry you further while reserving strength. In this case it was justified. After all, despite my revulsion it was perfectly normal for girls to flirt with Keitaro Urashima. “I’d like to apologise for yesterday; I behaved like such a <i>naughty</i> girl.”
“Eh?” he meeped, looking like a deer in headlights. A normal reaction, no matter how you cut it. “N- No, there’s nothing to apologise for, really!”
“Oh, but I insist,” I replied, wanting to roll my eyes and get this over with and trying to ignore how much I was starting to enjoy this. I ran a hand around my waist, circling a hip before resting it on my butt. “I’ve been a bad girl, and bad girls -” I smacked my firm ass, and the manager very nervously swallowed while a prominent bulge in his trousers throbbed. Another perfectly normal reaction. “Need to be punished.”
Now that we were close enough for niceties, Keitaro sighed and reached forwards to grab my breasts while I fondled his rather remarkably hard and throbbing dick through his trousers.
“You girls are so weird,” he said, shaking his head. I didn’t find anything strange about his remark, so I left it at that. “Don’t you find any of this weird?”
“No, handsome,” I said. “Why should I?”
For a moment it looked like he had something else to say, but then he shook his head, took a look at his watch, and suddenly bolted for the entrance with eyes bulging wide open. Once he was out of sight, I slipped back into my more natural posture and rolled my eyes in disgust. Honestly. This was going to send him such a series of mixed signals, he might not ever want to leave.
“Is there something I can help you with?” Motoko asked, addressing the figure lurking in the shadows that wasn’t nearly as stealthy as she seemed to think she was being.
“I don’t know, sweetie!” Mitsune said with her usual all-knowing smirk. I immediately lifted my guard, wondering what sort of con or practical joke awaited. (Ha! What an inaccurate nomenclature! What was ever practical about a whoopie cushion or a joy buzzer?) “I was more wondering if there was something I could maybe help you with… Come take a look at something weird I found.”
My eyes narrowed, and I reluctantly followed her off towards the living room. Whatever she was up to, better that I step into it than anyone else.
<hr>
<b>Keitaro</b>
The train was packed that morning, as you’d expect for pretty much any line running at this time of the day. I wouldn’t mind standing. Really, no trouble at all. So I grabbed hold of a safety grip to maintain my balance and waited for it to take me to the intended destination, the cram school I was giving rather a lot of money to now that I think about it. I looked around the train, just to pass the time. Then I felt a tiny tug on my sleeve, prompting me to turn around and stare right into the eyes of a trio of very hot girls. Obviously friends, but I didn’t know them. They had this funny look in their eyes and then, inexplicably, the one in the middle slid up to her feet and her friends patted the now empty seat.
Now, I’m not the kind of person to pass up such a polite request, even if I don’t particularly see the reason for it. So, I sat down albeit with some hesitation. And then the girl sat down. In my lap. While her friends seized hold of my arms, pressed them both in between their breasts, and all three of them mewled at just the right frequency to turn a young man’s brain to mush. It was in this state that my two good friends found me when they inevitably boarded the train at their own stops - not that I noticed until they finally decided to speak - Masayuki Haitani and Kimiaki Shirai.
“Just another day in the life of Keitaro the playboy,” Shirai observed, snapping me back to reality from the fluffy, comfortable and inexplicably erotic place my world had become.
“I just wish he’d bottle it,” Haitani said with his usual smile. “We’d make millions… Assuming we sold it and didn’t keep it for ourselves.”
“Oh, come on!” I said, which the girls somehow took as a cue to press their enticing bodies even closer against mine. “Since when was I ever a playboy?”
“Since always, of course!” Haitani said.
“That’s right,” Shirai continued. “It’s always been completely normal for girls to throw themselves at you, but at the very last moment you pull back because you’re saving yourself for a promise girl. Then you complain about never being able to get a girlfriend because girls can’t stand you.”
I wondered at what point the world had gone insane. Or when I had. I then wondered if it would be possible for me to tell the difference between them. The way they had said that. There was no malice in their voice. Maybe a little jealousy and envy, but no sarcasm or anything wicked in their tone at all. It was like he was stating a simple fact, an unbiased observation. I should have probably figured it out then, but it wasn’t exactly easy to think entirely rationally when one really cute girl is practically giving you a lapdance while her friends are pressing your arms in between their rather large breasts. Well. One can but assume. I somehow doubt any laboratory would receive the funding to set up an experiment with any kind of decent control behind it.
“You really don’t see anything wrong with this, do you?” I asked, trying really hard not to fidget lest the girl in my lap notice the significant erection I was now sporting. Not for the first time that day, I might add, due to the bizarre actions of a girl I barely knew. “You both think it’s completely normal for girls to want to give me lap dances and… Ugh…”
I had thought they were being flirtatious before. I had thought their behaviour was… Rather inappropriately erotic before. I did not expect that my first lesson, upon leaving for cram school, would entail learning exactly how wrong that belief was. Not an entirely practical lesson, and I can’t see how it would ever get me into Tokyo University. Still. I did feel a little bit glad that I learned it, even as my brain felt like it was melting.
<hr>
<b>Naru</b>
I was not jealous. Really. I wasn’t jealous <i>at all</i>. Nor was I particularly upset or annoyed by the perfectly normal lewd display set out just a little down the car from where I was standing. After all, there really wasn’t anything to be upset over. It was just our manager with a cute girl grinding her body against his, making an actually impressive amount of use of the limited space afforded in the car, somehow managing to spin around so that her breasts engulfed his face while her own showed sheer, unbridled joy.
I didn’t feel jealous of that girl. I really didn’t. I knew it was natural and expected to feel the urge to give him a lap dance, but I fought the feeling nonetheless with every fibre of my body. It was bad enough flirting with him, but dancing for his amusement? Having him devoting his entire attention towards me as I unveiled his true nature, leaving him lost in a haze of lust and - I stopped and quickly grabbed my hand away before it reached my breast. Stop that! At the very least I wouldn’t have to be in the same area as this display for very much longer, as my stop was next.
“While I hate to interrupt a good thing,” the taller dork said, “I’m afraid that’s our stop.”
Oh, that’s right. Of <i>course</i> it was his stop as well. Because my life - and his - weren’t complicated enough. I shrugged. Whatever. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see him struggling to get away from the trio of girls, who pouted seductively at him and waved a fond farewell. They’d probably never see him again. Now, that’s something I did feel a little bit jealous of. I shook my head. Thinking way too much about him. Best to put him out of your head, he’s such an average man that he probably won’t even notice you’re attending the same cram school.
“Whoa! Look out!”
I wasn’t entirely sure how he’d managed it, but Mister Manager had somehow managed to push his way through the crowd without anyone particularly noticing, then tripped just as he was about to go right past me. I turned around on hearing his cry, which turned out to be just in time for his face to be implanted in a second cleavage within a five-minute period. We both tumbled to the ground, and I just looked at him lying there in a compromising position, feeling pretty much nothing was out of the ordinary. Well, obviously his face was going to be there as a consequence of that particular turn of events. So what of it? Still, he extracted himself fairly sharpish upon realising his position, apologising profusely. He didn’t need to, but this behaviour didn’t particularly surprise me either.
“Think nothing of it,” I quietly said, adjusting my thick, thick glasses with one hand while fondling his dick with the other. “Handsome,” I threw in before turning away and walking off, deliberately swaying my hips so that the skirt I was wearing that day would swish around in a rather… attention-drawing manner, shall we say? I was peripherally aware that he was following me. Well. Not really following me per se, more heading in the same direction I was. Still, I had to flirt with him a little bit. Every other girl in the place was, not that I was particularly paying attention to them or taking internal notes or anything. Nor was I eavesdropping on the conversation he was having with his perverted friends.
“Hmm, lucky guy!” one of his perverted friends just happened to say within earshot. “Looks like you’ve got the attention of the number one student in all of Japan.”
“Kinda hot too,” said the other one. “Never really noticed before. The glasses throw you off a bit.”
“Do they?” Keitaro mumbled. I turned around and gave him a steamy look, sort of like I’d just seen one of the other girls do. Just being normal, not because I wanted to or anything. He nervously looked away, and were I actually trying to seduce him I’d have marked that in the win column. But I wasn’t. So I didn’t. “Hold on… Number one student? Her?!”
“That’s right!” one of his friends confirmed, and really they should keep their voices low, don’t they know that just about anyone could hear them? “Work your magic with her, and you’ll be -”
“Excuse me!” Keitaro said, suddenly appearing right in front of me. I’d find that particular burst of speed unusual in anyone else, but in his case it didn’t feel like anything he could do would surprise me. “I was just wondering if you would be able to help me out. I mean, I know it’s a lot to ask, but -”
He really didn’t recognise me like this, did he? Well, that was to be expected. Why else would I wear these blasted things out in public? It was to stop guys from hitting on me when I really, really want to be thinking about other things! But in his case? Whatever.
“Meet me on the roof at lunch,” I said in a huskier tone than I’d normally use. I traced a finger down his chest then, once again, fondled his dick while I said the next part. “And I’ll make all your problems… Disappear.”
So, why make that sort of offer if I didn’t much care for him? Well… Because it was kinda pathetic, really. Here he was, a perfectly average and normal boy making an attempt to get into one of the most prestigious schools anywhere period. He didn’t stand a chance and hell, there’s a reason underdog stories were so damned popular. Of course, neither of us could have guessed at the time what the outcome of our tutor sessions would ultimately become… Nor that there was a conversation ongoing between Mitsune and Motoko at that very moment which was going to have a tremendous impact upon the future.
- Keitaro decides he shouldn’t wear his earrings in class, and takes them off. Somehow, Naru winds up wearing them.
- Mitsune shows Motoko the evidence, and they decide there is definitely something supernatural going on that Motoko needs to deal with.
- Same as above, except Motoko reluctantly decides to call in reinforcements.
- Meanwhile, what are Su and Shinobu up to?
- Something else
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