<i>Stop that!</i> Shampoo admonished herself as she watched Mousse bend and flex and work up a sweat and punch and kick and move with precision fast and strong and powerful and <i>stop that!</i> she repeated to herself. It didn’t work. She was still watching his nearly naked body. Still drinking in his physique. Mousse’s physique. The dorky boy that had been chasing her for as long as both of them could walk. The half-blind idiot with the big thick glasses that never got the hint, never left her alone and never proved himself worthy of her time or consideration.
Boy had muscles underneath that big stupid robe. Great big muscles. The sort you could easily lie down on and go to sleep, then have the best dreams of your life. On <i>Mousse’s body</i>, ugh! Shampoo felt completely disgusted with herself for being unable to look away. Look at him. He was so blind that he was just continuing to exercise while nearly naked and he didn’t even know she was there! She could do anything at all, and so long as she didn’t make any noise he would never even guess it.
Shampoo nearly jumped when she felt her hand trail up her inner thigh, but made no attempt to stop it. Largely because Mousse had chosen that exact moment to start doing jumping jacks, which was a sight she’d never guess would be able to make her drool. During the time of her distraction, her hand reached its intended destination, and two fingers easily pushed their way inside. Shampoo was able to stifle a whimper. This was the influence that her great-grandmother must have been worried about. If it was so bad that she was willing to masturbate because of a nearly naked Mousse, then - Then it must truly be a terrible curse indeed! And powerful. Fearsome. Too much for her to fight.
In which case, why bother fighting it at all? A thrill shot through her spine, and Shampoo began to gently - then with gradually more roughness - rub one of her breasts through her clothes in time to the pumping motion of her fingers. She couldn’t stop herself now. It felt too <i>good</i> to stop. All she was able to manage was an attempt to preserve the last fragment of her dignity by keeping the noise to a bare minimum, a desperate act to prevent Mousse from realising her presence.
It was more of an ordeal than it sounded. She had to control her breathing, ensure that she didn’t knock anything over, try not to moan in pleasure or cause so much motion that her body made the table beneath her shake. All in all, from an outsider’s perspective one might say that if she had put that much effort into resisting the corruptive influence, then maybe she could have done so just a little bit longer. But this was no time for what-ifs, and Shampoo would certainly agree with you. All that really mattered was the truth of what was happening, and right now Shampoo was engaged in a different kind of battle against her own body’s pleasure than she was expecting. Unlike the other battle, this one was looking like she might well win.
<I>This feeling! It’s too good!</i> she thought, maintaining utter silence over feelings and sensations that would have other people screaming down the roof with pleasure. She no longer much cared that this was stupid, blind and stubborn Mousse in front of her. Shampoo understood on some level that the spell was working its way through her mind, but she couldn’t concentrate enough to fight it away. Not anymore. Not ever again either. It had her mind almost completely in its thrall. She was horny. Almost insatiably, but that was only one half of the full effect.
For the other half, she would have to leave the cafe and find those carrying the other half within them. Like Ranma, as a quick example. Only then would it be complete and she could share this gift with others. But why should she go to him alone when she could so easily bring someone else in tow? <i>Mousse is an idiot. He won’t see anything wrong until it’s too late to do anything about it.</i> Seducing him would be a snap. And then, once she’d done that… And then….
<hr>
Let us take a scale of one to ten, where one is not at all redundant and ten is a self-evident tautology, the statement that Ryoga Hibiki was lost is probably a 9.5. The half mark is knocked off just in case a particular person didn’t actually know who this person was. But yes, Ryoga was indeed completely and hopelessly lost. Again. As if he ever stopped being lost. As if he ever actually knew where he was at any given point in time. It’s almost as if something in his brain so badly misunderstood the Uncertainty Principle that when it had the thought “Well, I know how fast I’m moving at pretty much all times…” things went quite badly from that point onwards.
Right now, if his guess was any good, then it looked like he’d wandered into a school of some sort. Not Furinkan High. The uniform didn’t fit with what he remembered. The students weren’t giving him many odd looks, which was itself a little bit odd. Ryoga grew a little bit self conscious right about then because he was suddenly keenly aware that a strange boy wearing clothes different from the school uniform and carrying a great big rucksack was actually quite a peculiar sight. It was the kind of thought that makes a person wonder a little at how they got to this point, and drawing more attention to himself was the only thing keeping him from asking for directions. For the time being, anyone that did look at him got a smile and nod in return. Best to just pretend like he knew where he was going. He’d get out of the building eventually, then he could maybe ask where he was supposed to be going.
Maybe this particular door led to the outside world? Or it could be another broom closet… The third in a row if that were the case. It was getting a little bit embarrassing. It probably left the impression on the students that he had a keen interest in cleaning supplies, which really can’t be that much of an interesting subject even to the most ardent enthusiast.
Then again. What he did find upon opening that door certainly went the other end of the spectrum than cleaning supplies. It was the kind of image that rather burns itself into your brain and refuses, point blank, to leave. Not every day involved accidentally walking in on what could be rather best described as an orgy in progress. One girl was having her positively massive breasts enthusiastically sucked by another girl, who also happened to have rather impressive mammaries. Another similarly endowed girl was leaning against a wall, while a boy with a member like a third leg plowed her from behind.
“Ooh!” the girl against the wall whimpered. “So indecent! So shameless! More! Give me more!”
“Y-Yui!” the boy breathed. “What’s gotten into us? I - I can’t stop! It feels amazing!”
Ryoga coughed. A trickle of blood ran out of his left nostril. He carefully dabbed at the blood while closing the door for the sake of their modesty, realised he’d closed it behind himself and then had just about enough time to realise he was fainting when he actually blacked out.
- Happosai picks his new target and strikes.
- Ryoga wakes up with milk being fed to him.
- Back with Ranma, Akane and Ukyo.
- Nabiki continues trying to get laid.
- Cologne continues her investigation.
- Something else
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