Story: Ataru's Goddess

 

Let's be honest for a moment. Does anyone actually believe Ataru Moroboshi is going to get laid without suffering? Does anyone truly think the universe - a universe that has spent years treating him like a cosmic punching bag - suddenly decided to grant him a reprieve? The life he leads is not one of reward; it is one of expensive lessons paid for in bruises and electrical burns.

Look at the setup. Lum has offered her booty on a silver platter. She has promised him a version of herself that doesn't double as a high-voltage transformer. She has promised a threesome with herself and Shinobu, yes, that Shinobu, the girl who usually treats his ribcage like a set of wind chimes. While Lum has apparently been given something to control her voltage output, Shinobu has also been given a strength-inhibiting pill by a Goddess. On paper, this is paradise. This is the pinnacle of male fantasy.

But for those of us with a functioning sense of pattern recognition, this is a red flag the size of a stadium. If you truly believe Ataru is going to ride Oni booty without some level of systemic pain, general misfortune, or psychological trauma, you are simply too naive. You are a lamb in a world of wolves, and the wolves are currently wearing bikinis and holding divine medication. Be a little more suspicious of reality. Not much, just a bit. Because in the world of Ataru Moroboshi, a "gift" from a Goddess is usually just a more creative way to be tortured.

Inside the tent, the air hung heavy with the scent of pine and a strange, shimmering anticipation. Lum and Shinobu sat cross-legged on the oversized futon, the dim light of a battery-powered lantern casting flickering shadows against the canvas walls. Between them sat two small, translucent pills, glowing with a faint, ethereal violet light.

Lum picked hers up with a delicate finger, her green hair cascading over her shoulders like a waterfall of silk. She popped the pill into her mouth and swallowed it with a small, contented hum. Almost instantly, the habitual sparks that danced across her skin vanished. The air, usually thick with the smell of ozone, became sweet and clear.

"It feels... quiet," Lum whispered, her voice a soft melody. She looked at her palms. "The power is still there, but it's like a sleeping kitten. I can feel it, but it won't bite."

Shinobu stared at her own pill with a mixture of skepticism and longing. She had spent years fighting her own instincts, the raw, violent strength that often manifested as a reflexive punch to Ataru's jaw. She swallowed the medicine and closed her eyes.

"I feel... light," Shinobu murmured. She pressed her hand into the futon. Usually, she would have left a crater in the padding. Now, the fabric merely yielded. "I don't feel like I'm fighting my own muscles anymore. It's actually... peaceful."

The two girls looked at each other. There was no longer the immediate threat of a lightning strike or a judo toss. For the first time, the rivalry between them wasn't based on who could hurt Ataru more, but on something far more dangerous: who could make him want them more.

"He's coming," Lum said, her eyes widening.

Outside, Ataru was practically vibrating. He had spent the last hour in a state of semi-catatonic bliss, convinced that he had finally ascended to the highest plane of existence. He approached the tent with the reverence of a priest entering a temple, though his thoughts were far from holy.

"Hello? My beautiful harem girls?" Ataru called out, his voice trembling with anticipation. "Is it time? Tell me it's time!"

He ducked inside, and for a moment, he forgot how to breathe. Lum and Shinobu were reclining on the futon, their outfits leaving very little to the imagination. The lighting was perfect, the scent was intoxicating, and the atmosphere was thick with a raw, feminine hunger that made Ataru's head swim.

"Welcome, Darling," Lum purred, her voice sliding over him like warm honey. She reached out, her fingers grazing his wrist. There was no shock, no burn-just the soft, electric hum of a woman who knew exactly what she wanted.

"I've been waiting for you, Ataru," Shinobu added, her voice low and suggestive. She didn't slap him. She didn't scream at him for being a pervert, the way she sometimes did. Instead, she leaned forward, the curve of her breasts pressing against the thin fabric of her top.

Ataru collapsed onto the futon between them, a goofy, lecherous grin plastered across his face. "I can't believe it. I'm actually doing this. I'm finally doing this!"

Lum didn't waste time. She slid over him, her legs wrapping around his waist with a fluid, predatory grace. She pressed her lips to his, her tongue darting out to taste him, sucking and swirling with a hunger that bordered on desperation. Ataru groaned, his hands instinctively finding the swell of her hips.

"I'm going to make you forget every other girl in the world," Lum whispered against his lips, her breath hot.

"In your dreams, alien!" Shinobu countered. She didn't wait for an invitation. She leaned in from the side, her mouth finding the sensitive skin of Ataru's neck. She nibbled, sucked, and licked, her hands sliding down his chest to fumble with the waistband of his shorts.

At first, it was a symphony of pleasure. Ataru felt like a king. He was the center of a storm of softness and heat. Lum's mouth was everywhere, her tongue exploring every inch of his face, while Shinobu's hands worked with a frantic, eager energy. When his cock finally sprang free, thick and pulsing with a need that felt like a physical weight, both girls gasped.

"So big," Lum breathed, her eyes wide.

"Mine," Shinobu whispered, her voice shaking.

Lum leaned down, her lips parting to take the head of his cock into her mouth. She sucked with a slow, deliberate vacuum, her tongue swirling around the glans, creating a wet, shlicking sound that echoed in the small tent. Ataru arched his back, his fingers digging into the futon.

"Oh god... oh yes..."

But then, the shift happened. The "peace" provided by the pills didn't erase their personalities; it simply removed the physical barriers to their competitiveness. In turn, Ataru was about to learn why a guy like him getting a harem isn't actually a good idea.

Shinobu didn't like being the spectator. She pushed Lum aside - not with violence, but with a firm, insistent shove. "My turn! Ataru, look at me!"

Shinobu slid down, her mouth replacing Lum's. She used a different technique, a tighter, more urgent suction that sent a jolt of pure electricity through Ataru's spine. She looked up at him, her eyes flashing with a need to win.

"Is this better, Ataru? Tell her I'm better!"

Lum's expression hardened. She wasn't about to be outdone in her own game. She moved behind him, her hands roaming over his chest, her nails scratching lightly against his skin. She leaned down and whispered in his ear, her voice dripping with a competitive venom.

"You like her clumsy attempts, Darling? Let me show you how an Oni really handles a man."

Lum reached down, her fingers finding his balls, squeezing and rolling them with a precision that made Ataru gasp. At the same time, she shifted her weight, her pussy rubbing against his thigh, the wetness of her folds creating a squelching sound that was both erotic and intimidating.

Ataru's grin widened. "Yes... yes! Fight for me! Be freaky! Give me everything!"

He encouraged them, his voice a ragged plea. He wanted the intensity. He wanted the fire. But as the minutes passed, the "freakiness" transitioned from pleasure to a battle of attrition.

The girls weren't focusing on Ataru's pleasure anymore; they were focusing on their own victory. The sex became a contest of who could be more aggressive, who could produce the loudest sounds, who could occupy more of his attention.

Shinobu began to ride him, her hips slamming down with a rhythmic, punishing force. She wasn't seeking a climax anymore, she was trying to claim territory. "Look at me, Ataru! I'm the one you love! I'm the one who's actually here for you!"

Lum wouldn't let it slide. She crawled over Shinobu, her body pressing against the other girl's back, her hands reaching around to pinch and pull at Ataru's nipples with a force that started to hurt. "He loves my body! He loves the way I feel! You're just a childhood habit, Shinobu! Time for him to grow up!"

"Shut up! You're just a loud-mouthed alien!" Shinobu shrieked, her movements becoming more erratic.

Ataru was now pinned between them, a human sandwich of lust and rage. The pleasure was still there, but it was being drowned out by the sheer intensity of their clash. The air in the tent felt thick, the heat rising as they fought for dominance.

"Wait... maybe slow down a bit?" Ataru gasped, his breath coming in short, panicked bursts.

Neither girl heard him. They were locked in a psychic battle, their bodies intertwine in a messy, desperate scramble. Lum's legs were draped over his shoulders, while Shinobu was trying to pull his head toward her chest. The sounds of skin slapping against skin, the wet squelch of lubrication, and the aggressive panting created a cacophony of excess.

"I can make him cum in ten seconds!" Lum declared, her voice a challenge.

"I can make him beg for mercy!" Shinobu retorted.

Ataru felt a sudden, crushing realization. He wasn't the king of this harem the way he always imagined. It would be more accurate to say that he was the trophy. He was the ball in a game of high-stakes rugby, and the players were starting to treat him like a piece of equipment. The pleasure was becoming overwhelming, the stimulation too high, the energy too volatile. He felt like he was about to be consumed by their competitive fire.

He needed a way out. He needed to divert the energy before he actually exploded or, worse, became a permanent fixture of the futon.

As Lum leaned in to deliver a final, crushing kiss, Ataru shifted. He didn't push them away; instead, he looked from one to the other, his eyes wide and mocking.

"You know," Ataru panted, his voice barely a whisper, "it's a shame. You're both so... talented. But I wonder... who is actually the best? Not at satisfying me, but just... overall?"

Both girls paused, their heads snapping toward him.

"What do you mean?" Shinobu asked, her chest heaving.

"I mean," Ataru said, a mischievous glint returning to his eyes, "that you're both so focused on me that you're ignoring each other. I bet neither of you could actually handle the other. I bet you're both just talking a big game."

The silence that followed was electric.

"Handle me?" Lum repeated, her voice dropping an octave. She looked at Shinobu. "You think you could handle an Oni?"

"I've spent my life dealing with this pervert," Shinobu snapped, her eyes narrowing. "You're just a floating target. I bet you're all talk and no action."

Ataru felt the shift. The predatory focus moved. It was like a switch had been flipped. The target was no longer him; the target was each other.

"Oh, is that how it is?" Lum purred. She didn't move away from Ataru, but she shifted her weight, her gaze locking onto Shinobu's. "Maybe we should settle this. Right now. No men allowed."

"I'm in," Shinobu whispered, her voice shaking with a mixture of anger and a sudden, forbidden curiosity.

Ataru didn't wait for a second invitation. As the two girls collided in a surge of competitive lust, he began to slide backward. He moved with the stealth of a man who had spent his life avoiding slaps and lightning bolts. He eased himself off the futon, his heart hammering in his chest.

The sounds behind him changed instantly. It wasn't the sound of two girls fighting over a man; it was the sound of two women trying to dominate one another.

"You think you're so tough!" Lum shouted, her voice muffled as she pinned Shinobu to the futon.

"Get off me, you overgrown lizard!" Shinobu yelled back, though her voice had a distinct, shaky quality to it.

Ataru peeked back one last time. It was a scene of absolute, rough chaos. Lum had Shinobu's legs thrown wide, her fingers digging into the other girl's thighs. Shinobu was fighting back, her hands clutching Lum's waist, pulling her closer with a desperate, aggressive hunger. The sounds were vulgar-loud, wet slaps of skin on skin, the rhythmic squelch of pussies grinding against each other, and the guttural moans of two women who had finally found a rival they couldn't simply ignore.

They weren't even looking at him anymore. They were lost in a whirlwind of friction and fury, their bodies intertwining in a messy, sweaty heap of desperation.

Ataru smirked. He had played them. He had turned the heavenly hell into a private party for two, and he was the only one with a ticket out.

He crawled toward the tent flap, his breath held. He could hear Lum let out a loud, piercing scream of pleasure, followed by a wet, heavy thud as they rolled across the futon.

"I've got you now!" Lum shrieked.

"Never!" Shinobu groaned, her voice sounding completely spent.

Ataru slipped through the opening and collapsed onto the cool grass of the mountainside. He lay there for a moment, staring up at the stars, his body still humming from the remnants of the encounter. He felt a strange mixture of victory and exhaustion. He had survived. He had managed to escape the crushing weight of two competing women.

He sighed, closing his eyes. Finally, some peace. Finally, a moment of silence.

"Looking for something, little puppy?"

Ataru's eyes snapped open.

He wasn't alone. Standing just a few feet away, leaning against a gnarled pine tree with an air of supreme boredom, was Ryoko Mendo. She was dressed in an outfit that looked like it cost more than his parents' house, her eyes twinkling with a malicious, predatory intelligence.

She looked down at him, her lips curling into a small, cruel smile.

"I must say, Moroboshi," Ryoko purred, her voice like a razor blade wrapped in velvet, "your timing is impeccable. I've been watching your little 'heavenly' encounter from the bushes. Quite a performance. Truly pathetic."

Ataru stared at her, his jaw dropping. He looked back at the tent, where the sounds of rough, unbridled lesbian sex were still echoing through the night air, and then back at the girl who treated the world like her personal chessboard.

"Ryoko?" he croaked.

"Yes, yes," she sighed, stepping closer, her shadow looming over him. "Now, I believe we have some things to discuss. About your harem. About your future. And about exactly how much more suffering you can endure before you simply break."

Ataru lay there in the grass, the sounds of his harem's war and the presence of the Mendo heiress surrounding him. He realized, with a sudden, sinking feeling in his gut, that the narrator was right.

He was never, ever going to get laid without suffering.