Secret Santa Urusei Yatsura
What a moment for her self realisation to suddenly kick in and stay her hand. When she was lying in a nice, comfortable bath full of hot water, with one leg slightly kicking up, one hand tracing a circle around her navel and the other hand holding up a certain bottle of supernaturally charged shampoo, ready to squeeze it out all over her head.
Sakura's eyes twitched as she looked up at it. How had she let her defenses slip to get to this point? More importantly, why was her spare hand leading a trail all along her naked, soaking-wet body? The answer came to her after a moment's consideration: A double-team strike. While her attention was focused on stopping the shampoo, some other magical entity had snatched up her willpower without her even noticing. If not for a moment of final resolution, then she would have completely lost to it instead of merely partially losing.
"Hand, drop the shampoo," Sakura commanded. It did not obey. Her little finger did lift up from the bottle, but that was the full extent of it. "Hand, drop the shampoo," she repeated through gritted teeth, putting everything she had into tossing it across the bloody room. Her thumb twitched. One more time! "Hand, drop the woooooooaaah!"
What had gotten her to gasp in such delight? Why, what else but her own treacherous hand venturing into places it had never ventured before! Dirty places. Perverted places. Places that felt good to touch and that eroded concentration and focus. But she wouldn't let it beat her; she would retain her self control through sheer willpower and determination even if her training failed her. Which was fine. Which was well. Which was good.
Except that this level of focus and concentration and willpower and determination made her hand fold into a tight fist. As in. The hand holding the bottle full of mystical shampoo with an unidentified effect that she had just this second dumped all over her scalp. Needless to say, Sakura was twitching in justified frustration and rage.
This didn't actually last all that long before a new thought popped into her head: Why worry about it? So what? So she didn't know what the effect would be? Big deal. When it becomes obvious deal with it then. In the meantime you might as well just rub it right on into your scalp, oooh, doesn't that feel nice? Almost as good as masturbating.
Simultaneously a certain eyeglass was making her sit right up with her breasts exposed and the shampoo streaming down her shoulders and over her nipples. In essence hiding just barely enough to maximise the erotic sight. Her head was thrown back in delight, causing her long, black hair to cascade down her body and contrasting against her skin to make the curves of her chest pop out even more. The priestess felt her hands rubbing up and down her sides, rubbing the suds into her naked, soaked body while yet new thoughts began to enter her head.
Why worry about anything? Who needs the stress? You're young. You're sexy. You're beautiful. You're powerful. Why would you of all people need to worry about anything? So what if there are unidentified magical things running around? All you need to do is keep a cool and calm head, then figure them out and everything will feel so very, very good. You like things feeling good.
"I do," Sakura moaned, and the trill of her nigh-orgasmic voice brought a certain rich, voyeuristic snob to his own climax, but let's not focus on him for now. "I don't need to worry. I'm Sakura! I am a priestess! I - Am - Ho-Ho-Hoooot!"
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Ryu had been completely quiet for the last thirty seconds. That was probably a good sign. Right? Well, if anything Ataru could hardly blame her. He was pretty quiet right now as well. It was as if every time he made to open his mouth the words just didn't quite want to form.
"Good morrow, my lady!" the other him said, taking the hand of Princess Ryu and delicately kissing it. Princess Ryu then tittered and giggled in an extremely feminine manner. "A vision such as yourself makes me certain and secure that unsullied purity can exist in some form within this world."
"Yeah," said the bunnygirl Ryu, rolling her shoulders and holding back a naughty laugh. "That's why you oughta get around to sullying it, hunk boy!"
"Oh, how uncouth!" Princess Ryu sniffed and turned up her nose at... At herself. The herself in a bunnygirl outfit that was clearly up for a good time with anyone who would ask nicely, and most of those who would not. "Yon maiden is in desperate need of more modest attire, and a lesson in strict etiquette."
"Yon priss is in desperate need of a rough, hard shag!" bunnygirl Ryu mocked, sticking up her middle and index finger and then licking the blank space in between them while rudely thrusting her hips. The other two turned bright, bright red.
"What's a shag?" Ryu whispered to Ataru.
"... I can show you later on if you'd like?"
"That tells me all I wanna know."
"Your - Your crass and rude behaviour is appalling! To think that thou dost share the face of mine beloved! Wicked doppleganger!"
"My love, we must away, before her corruption brings us low!" cried Princess Ryu.
"How true," Sir Ataru sternly said, sweeping the princess into his arms and leaping out of the window. In full plate. Even the real Ataru thought that was kinda dumb... But then they just sort of flew off. "Beloved, hang tight to my bosom! I shall keep thou safe!"
"Wait up!" bunnygirl Ryu called, flying off after them. "Cling to my bosom instead! It's so much better!"
There was a long, long minute of silence as the two of them stared at the open window. Then, finally, after his mind had finally figured out how to react to that particular experience, Ataru broke that awkwardness by saying, "Well, that sure just happened. Mind passing me your doll?"
The next thing he knew, he was being held inside of a cobra clutch/STF combination. For those unfamiliar with wrestling, here is a brief explanation. A cobra clutch is a hold whereby an opponent behind you has used their, say, right hand to seize your right wrist and is using that to pull your arm across your own throat, while also trapping their own left arm with your right so they may stabilise and exert additional pressure to the neck. An STF requires the opponent to be lying down, face down, and then the applier of the hold traps their opponent's legs with their own, leans across and ensnares the head using their arms, enabling them to torque almost the entire body at once. So, a combination of these two holds is especially painful, as you might imagine.
Ataru did not need to imagine. He could assure you quite well that the move was, in fact, agony enough that the rather close contact with a hot babe wasn't even being considered by his filthy, perverted mind during the entire time he was placed within it.
"Don't give me that!" Ryunosuke hissed. "What the hell didja just do, ya perv?!"
"Gah!" Ataru hacked. "Nothing! Not my fault this time!"
"There ya were talkin' 'bout me being a pretty princess or a sex kitten, then all of a sudden those three show up?" Ryu snorted. "Pull the other one! I ain't born yesterday!" She pulled back a little harder, and Ataru suddenly felt tremendous sympathy for pretzels. "You're always the cause of this sorta bullcrap. Ain't no way I'm lettin' you touch those dolls!"
"You mean these dolls?" a familiar voice teased. Both Ataru and Ryu looked up. The bunnygirl Ryu was resting against the window, holding both Ataru and Ryunosuke's dolls. There was a sparkle in her eyes that even scared Ataru a little bit. It also turned him on, but there were very few things a fit chick could do while wearing a bunnygirl outfit that would fail to turn him on.
"Hey, put those -"
"Nah," the bunnygirl said, playfully tossing Ryu's doll into her open palm. "If I can't have fun with those two prudes, might as well play around with the two of you instead!"
- Lum wakes up. Discovers quite the scene.
- Lum has another weird dream because of what she overhears.
- Sakura's new no-worry personality leads her into rather lewd activities.
- Ran and Shinobu wind up with their own misadventures.
- Something else
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