Three days had blurred into a haze of diplomacy, gratitude feasts, and barely contained chaos since the Hero Faction's defeat.
Kyoto's youkai celebrated their savior—the "Dragon Boy" who had single-handedly dismantled a terrorist cell and rescued their empress—with parades of foxfire lanterns and endless platters of grilled eel and sake.
Rias and the peerage had returned to Kuoh amid whispered alliances, leaving Issei behind at Yasaka's insistence: "To ensure the ritual's aftereffects don't destabilize the ley lines," she'd said through Kunou's relayed messages.
In truth, it was a polite exile until she could face her rescuer without the risk of accidentally incinerating him.
The residence was a labyrinth of enchanted shoji screens and tatami halls hidden behind illusionary bamboo groves, warded against human eyes.
Issei sat cross-legged in the empress's private chamber—a vast space with silk screens depicting nine-tailed foxes under blood moons, a low cedar table laden with untouched matcha, and a massive futon piled with crimson quilts. The air hummed with residual youki, sweet as jasmine and sharp as ozone.
Kunou was asleep in the adjacent room, exhausted from a day of "princess duties"—mostly chasing illusory butterflies Yasaka had conjured to keep her occupied.
The little fox's soft snores drifted through the paper wall, a rhythmic comfort in the tension.
Issei held the Master Ball in his palm, its surface warm and pulsing like a caged heartbeat. Yasaka's aura inside had steadied—no more furious spikes, just a steady, smoldering glow. She's ready. He pressed the button.
Red energy lanced out, coalescing into a swirl of golden mist that solidified into the nine-tailed empress.
Yasaka manifested mid-air, landing gracefully on the tatami with a whisper of silk.
Her yukata—deep crimson with gold embroidery of foxfire motifs—clung to her voluptuous form, nine tails fanning behind her like a living cloak.
Golden hair cascaded to her waist, eyes slitted amber and sharp as shears. She was a vision of regal fury tempered by time: full lips curved in a knowing smile, high cheekbones flushed with restrained power, curves that could topple empires—ample breasts straining the silk, hips swaying with predatory grace, a navel peeking through the obi's fold like a forbidden sigil.
For a heartbeat, silence.
Then Yasaka's eyes locked on Issei. Her tails twitched once, twice—testing the air. No roar. No flames. Just a low, throaty chuckle that vibrated the room's wards.
"You," she purred, voice like velvet over fangs, "have much to answer for, Dragon Boy."
Issei swallowed, setting the now-empty Master Ball on the table. With a thought, Phoenix Force surged—cosmic flames coiling around the sphere, compressing it to a pinpoint of light before shattering it into harmless stardust. "No more cage," he said, meeting her gaze. "You're free."
Yasaka's laugh deepened, tails curling lazily. She stepped closer, the scent of wild orchids and embers enveloping him. "Free? From a device that subdued me? Bold claim."
Her fingers trailed his jaw, nails sharp but gentle. "I owe you my life. And Kunou's. The youkai sing your praises. But tell me… why the secrecy? Why not release me at once?"
Issei shrugged, heart pounding under her touch. "You were raging. One wrong move, and we'd be digging craters. I promised Kunou her mom back safe. Not as a walking apocalypse."
Her amber eyes softened, just a fraction. "My daughter… she speaks of you as 'Onii-chan.' Clings to your sleeve like a lost kit." Yasaka's hand lingered, thumb brushing his lip. "You've ensnared us both, it seems."
The air thickened, charged. Kunou's snores continued, oblivious. Yasaka's tails brushed his calf—accidental? Intentional? Issei's blood heated, Phoenix Force stirring in response.
The Gacha interface flickered unbidden in his mind's eye.
Temporary Enhancement: Dual Appendages (S-tier). Effect: Grants two additional ethereal hands for 6 hours. Bound to user intent. Stored? Deployed.
Issei's breath hitched. Now? But the system's whims were law. Two ghostly hands materialized at his sides—translucent gold, veined with cosmic fire, perfectly synced to his will.
Four hands total. Power hummed through them, an extension of his draconic core.
Yasaka's eyes widened, sensing the surge. "What sorcery—?"
He didn't explain. Couldn't, with the secrecy clause. Instead, he acted—pulling her down to the futon with his real hands, the ethereal pair hovering like silent sentinels. Yasaka gasped but didn't resist, amber eyes darkening with intrigue and heat.
Their lips met in a collision of fire and silk.
Issei's mouth claimed hers fiercely, the kiss starting as a spark and igniting into a blaze. His tongue—thick, insistent, tasting of phoenix embers—pried her full lips apart, delving deep into the velvet cavern of her mouth.
Yasaka moaned, a low, throaty sound that vibrated against his lips, her own tongue rising to meet his in a duel of dominance.
She was velvet and spice, her taste a heady brew of wild honey and smoldering incense, fangs grazing his lower lip just enough to draw a bead of blood that she lapped away with a hungry flick.
Ten minutes stretched into eternity. Issei's real hands framed her face, thumbs tracing the sharp line of her jaw as he angled deeper, tongue plunging in rhythmic thrusts that mimicked a more primal invasion—coiling around hers, sucking it into his mouth with gentle pulls that made her arch.
Yasaka's hands fisted his haori, nails digging crescents into his shoulders, but she yielded, her tongue tangling in slick, swirling dances: slow laps along the roof of her mouth, teasing the sensitive undersides, then frenzied knots that left strings of saliva connecting them when he surfaced for air—only to dive back in, lips bruising, breaths mingling in hot pants.
Her tails thrashed, coiling around his waist, pulling him flush against her curves. The ethereal hands remained poised, waiting, as Issei's focus consumed her mouth: nibbling her upper lip, sucking the plump lower one between his teeth, tongue exploring every crevice—the smooth glide over her molars, the velvet dip behind her fangs, the heated slide against her palate that drew guttural hums from her throat.
Saliva trailed down her chin, glistening on her skin; she lapped at his lips in return, fangs nipping playfully, her breath hitching with each invasive swirl.
By minute five, the kiss was a war of need—Yasaka pushing back now, her tongue spearing into his mouth, claiming territory with bold strokes that made Issei groan.
He countered, sucking her tongue deep, hollowing his cheeks to heighten the pull, vibrations humming from his chest to hers.
Her body melted against him, breasts pressing soft and heavy to his chest, hips canting instinctively. The room's wards flickered under the intensity, air shimmering like heat haze.
Minute eight: Issei slowed, teasing—light licks along her inner cheek, circling her tongue's tip like a lover's caress before plunging deep again, fucking her mouth with deliberate rhythm.
Yasaka whimpered, a sound swallowed by the wet seal of their lips, her hands roaming his back, claws raking lightly.
Saliva slicked their chins, dripping onto the futon; she broke for air once, gasping, only for him to recapture her, tongue delving to stroke the back of her throat, making her gag softly before she relaxed into the rhythm, moaning into him.
The tenth minute ended with a final, languid swirl—tongues twining in lazy spirals, lips brushing in feather-soft presses. Issei pulled back, both panting, a silver thread connecting their mouths.
Yasaka's amber eyes were glazed, lips swollen and glistening, a flush creeping down her neck. "You… devour like a beast," she whispered, voice husky.
Issei's ethereal hands stirred, drawn by his will. "Not done yet."
He guided her down fully, yukata loosening with a tug. Yasaka's breasts spilled free—magnificent orbs of creamy perfection, easily G-cups or more, heavy and buoyant, veined faintly with golden youki that pulsed like hidden rivers. Her areolas were wide and dusky rose, nipples erect as ripe berries, begging for attention.
Twenty minutes of worship began.
Issei latched onto the left first, mouth engulfing the peak in a wet seal, lips stretching wide to encompass the areola fully.
He sucked hard, cheeks hollowing with vacuum force, tongue lashing the nipple in tight, fervent circles—swirling clockwise, then counterclockwise, flattening to rasp broad strokes along the sensitive underside.
Yasaka roared—a deep, throaty bellow that shook the screens, tails thrashing wildly, youki flaring in golden waves that singed the air.
The sound was primal ecstasy, echoing through the residence like a beast's triumphant cry, wards straining to contain it.
His real hands kneaded the right breast, fingers sinking into plush flesh, thumb and forefinger pinching the twin nipple in twisting rolls that made it throb.
The ethereal pair joined—one cupping the left breast's underside, lifting it to feed more into his mouth; the other tracing lazy circles around the right areola, nails (ethereal but sharp) grazing the edge to spark shivers.
Minute three: Issei switched breasts, sucking the right with equal ferocity—pulling until the nipple distended, tongue flicking the tip like a whip, teeth grazing the areola's rim to elicit sharper roars.
Yasaka's back arched off the futon, hips bucking, claws gouging the quilts. "Ahh—yes, dragon! Harder!" Her roars crescendoed with each pull, golden tails coiling around his thighs, squeezing in rhythmic pulses that matched his suction.
By minute seven, sweat beaded on her skin—ethereal dew that tasted of starlit honey when he lapped it from her cleavage.
He buried his face between them briefly, motorboating the valley with sloppy kisses before reclaiming a nipple, humming vibrations deep from his chest that resonated through her core.
The ethereal hands mauled now—one squeezing the free breast in vise-grip pulses, fingers interlacing to compress the orb until flesh spilled between them; the other tracing veins of youki, pressing to heighten the flow, making her nipple leak faint traces of golden nectar that he suckled greedily.
Yasaka roared again—louder, wilder—as the squeeze amplified the suction, her body convulsing in waves, tails lashing the air into a gale.
"More—claim them!" Issei obliged, alternating every two minutes: left sucked while right squeezed, ethereal fingers digging bruises into the pale skin, real mouth nursing with voracious pulls that stretched the peaks taut.
Saliva glistened on her breasts, dripping in rivulets down her sides; he lapped them clean between switches, tongue bathing the undersides in broad, flat strokes that made her whimper-roar, a sound of surrender and demand.
Minute twelve: Frenzy. Issei used all four hands—real pair mauling both breasts in tandem squeezes, ethereal pair pinching and rolling nipples in punishing twists.
His mouth alternated rapidly—suck left, nip right, tongue delving into the cleavage to lap sweat and nectar. Yasaka's roars shook the room, futon quilts shredding under her claws, youki manifesting as illusory foxes that paced the chamber in aroused frenzy.
The twentieth minute ended with a final, dual assault: mouth on left, sucking with black-hole force while ethereal tongue (manifested from one hand) lapped the right nipple in sync.
Yasaka climaxed from the worship alone—body seizing, roar peaking into a howl that cracked a shoji screen, tails wrapping his torso in a crushing embrace.
He released her breasts with a wet pop, both peaks raw, glistening, marked with his teeth and fingerprints—hers and ethereal alike.
Panting, Yasaka pulled him up, eyes feral. "Now… the forge."
Issei shed his haori, revealing the taut planes of his chest, golden sigils glowing. His arousal sprang free—14 inches of veined, throbbing heat, tip beading pre-cum like molten gold.
Yasaka's eyes widened, tails quivering. "By the nine moons…"
He positioned her on the futon, legs splayed, yukata hiked to her waist.
Her sex was a masterpiece—plump folds slick with arousal, clit a swollen pearl amid golden curls, entrance clenching in anticipation. Virginity clung to her like a sacred veil, youki guarding her core.
Issei aligned his cockhead, the massive tip parting her folds with slick resistance. He thrust—slow, inexorable—breaching her in one deep plunge, the head popping past her hymen in a burst of ecstatic pain-pleasure.
Yasaka roared, a bellow that rattled the wards, tails thrashing as her walls clenched around his girth like a vise of heated silk—rippling, undulating, youki massaging every vein.
Inch by inch he sank, stretching her to limits, the bulge of his length visible against her abdomen, distorting her navel.
When the tip kissed her cervix—a soft, yielding gate to her womb—the roar peaked, shaking the residence's foundations.
Issei hilted fully, balls nestling against her ass, and began to move: slow grinds at first, stirring her depths, cockhead battering the barrier until it yielded, dipping into her womb proper—a churning sanctum of golden ether that hugged him like velvet fire.
His real hands claimed her breasts—squeezing harder, fingers sinking deep into the plush orbs, thumbs vise-gripping nipples in twists that milked nectar forth.
Yasaka roared again, body arching, walls spasming around him. The ethereal pair splayed over her exposed stomach—palms flat, fingers digging possessively into the taut plane, squeezing in rhythmic pulses—one per second, compressing the flesh to force his seed's future path, thumbs circling her navel in hypnotic swirls that amplified the bulge of his thrusts.
Hour one: Deliberate rhythm. Issei thrust with superhuman control—hilt-deep plunges that bottomed in her womb, churning her insides to froth, each entry drawing a roar as the tip kissed her core.
Squeezes synced: breasts compressed on the in-stroke, stomach on the out, ethereal fingers kneading the rising curve of her abdomen, willing conception.
Yasaka's roars filled the chamber—thunderous bellows at each womb-deep hilt, sharper yelps when breasts were mauled, guttural howls as her stomach yielded under the dual grip.
Her tails coiled his legs, urging deeper; claws raked his back, drawing blood that Twilight Healing sealed instantly. Nectar leaked from her nipples, coating his hands; he lapped it between thrusts, the taste fueling his pace.
By minute twenty, sweat slicked their bodies—hers ethereal dew, his phoenix-heated. Positions shifted: missionary to her on top, riding him with feral grace, breasts bouncing pendulously into his squeezing palms, stomach distending visibly under ethereal presses. Roars echoed with each downward slam, womb clenching greedily around his tip.
Hour two: Frenzy built. Issei flipped her to all fours, ass high, tails fanning like a golden halo. He re-entered from behind, one real hand on her hip, the other squeezing a breast—fingers interlacing to lift and drop the orb in time with his hips.
Ethereal hands doubled down: one pair mauling the free breast in vise pulses, the other splaying wide over her stomach, squeezing harder to feel his cock's bulge ripple beneath.
Yasaka roared ceaselessly—bellows shaking the screens as his dick speared her womb, howls peaking when squeezes compressed her flesh, tails lashing his thighs in ecstatic retaliation.
Juices soaked the futon, gushing with each withdrawal; he churned deeper, tip stirring her core like a cauldron, ethereal thumbs pressing her navel to heighten the invasion.
She pushed back, walls milking him in undulating waves, roars fracturing into moans when squeezes synced with thrusts—breasts ballooning between fingers, stomach yielding like dough under kneads.
By minute forty, orgasms crashed over her: body convulsing, roars turning to wails as her womb contracted around his tip, pulling him impossibly deeper, nectar squirting in arcs that bent light.
Hour three: Intimate brutality. Spooning now, Issei behind her, cock grinding slow and deep—womb-nesting thrusts that kissed her core with every roll.
Real hands mauled her breasts in tandem—squeezing until flesh spilled, nipples twisted to purpled peaks. Ethereal pair focused on her stomach: palms compressing the plane in wave-like pulses, fingers digging to trace his bulge, thumbs delving her navel in shallow fucks that mirrored his cock.
Yasaka's roars were constant thunder—bellowing at each womb-hilt, shrieking when breasts were crushed, gasping howls as her stomach was molded to his will. Sweat-slicked skin slapped wetly; her tails wrapped his torso, squeezing in counter-rhythm, claws gouging his arms.
She babbled ancient youkai tongues, roars blending pleas: "Deeper—seed me, dragon!" Issei edged masterfully—shallow teases at her entrance, then womb-deep slams, squeezes amplifying each: breasts deformed in grips, stomach compressed to trap his pre, ethereal nails grazing to spark shivers.
Orgasms chained—her walls vise-clenching, womb fluttering like a heartbeat, roars shaking the room into micro-quakes that made the tea service rattle.
Hour four: Insemination climax. Pace erratic, balls tightening. Issei pinned her missionary again, legs hooked over shoulders, folding her in half—14 inches plunging vertically, tip breaching her womb fully on every downstroke.
Real hands squeezed breasts mercilessly—fingers interlacing to crush them together, nipples rubbing friction-heat between palms, pulling until they elongated.
Ethereal pair owned her stomach: splaying wide, squeezing in vise pulses—one per heartbeat, compressing the swell to force his essence home, thumbs circling the navel in furious swirls that distorted the bulge.
Yasaka roared without cease—apocalyptic bellows at each womb-deep hilt, thunderous howls when breasts were mauled, primal shrieks as her stomach yielded under the dual assault.
"Fill me—claim the empress!" Issei thrust through the frenzy, churning her to froth, squeezes syncing: breasts compressed on entry, stomach on exit, ethereal fingers digging bruises that faded under her youki.
With a roar that cracked the ceiling beams, Issei came—cock swelling impossibly, lodging in her womb as ropes of thick, potent seed erupted.
Jet after jet—draconic essence laced with phoenix fire—flooded her core, painting walls white, volume distending her belly into a soft swell.
He thrust through it, churning deeper, squeezes trapping every drop: breasts milked in pulses, stomach compressed rhythmically to force absorption, ethereal thumbs pressing her navel like a seal.
Yasaka's final roar shattered a vase—body convulsing, womb contracting to milk him dry, orgasms cascading as conception ignited: sparks of draconic-youki life budding within, her virginity's loss birthing multiplicity.
Issei collapsed atop her, cock softening within the stuffed sanctum, hands gentling on her marked flesh.
Cum leaked lazily, but her body absorbed the rest—the swell permanent, a testament.
Yasaka cradled him, tails coiling possessively, amber eyes soft. "Husband… you have claimed me utterly." Her hand splayed over the swell. "Our kits will rule eternities."
Issei kissed her forehead, the ethereal hands fading. Kunou slept on. Heaven hummed distant approval.
The dragon had a new bride.