InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Hedonism ❯ Water: Let Us Drown in Oceans of Our Juices ( Chapter 16 )

[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]

"Water: Let Us Drown in Oceans of Our Juices!" by Abraxas (2008-09-04)

I met a raccoon along the road to Osaka. It was a small, furry creature darting in and out of the undergrowth, foraging for nuts, berries. As it came into view boldly its shape caught my attention and its eyes - with that mask-like coloring - demanded my sympathy. I could not escape the gaze of its eyes. It was, it seemed to be, that we shared something. We, man and beast, were connected by threads impossible to describe with just mere words.

While I stood and gazed, my heart beating and my breath racing, I was overcome, instantly, by a memory almost forgotten through the gulf of years.

The truth was that I felt the embers of a friendship with that raccoon because it reminded me of my Hachi. My Hachi, even now - now as I confess - I cannot help but feel the sweetest and gentlest affection toward that tanuki whose friendship lighted my youth. Oh, by the gods, how I regret the loss of those intimacies known only to a child - the seemingly unquestionable, the apparently innocent contacts we shared - who would have suspected the meaning I attached to those moments even when it was only his warm, fuzzy arms that comforted my fears.

So, projecting my feeling of friendship, I sat atop a rock and I offered a portion of my lunch.

Smiling then and now I was charged by the touch of the creature's tiny, human-like fingers while it grasped the food out of my hands.

Then and there, as flesh brushed against flesh, the odor of musk induced a vision. From depths beyond understanding, across realms of conscience we were not meant to explore within this world, there emerged an event blocked by the shock of it. Amnesia, perhaps, designed to protect the psyche of a child. The feelings that erupted cemented that impression - how could it be that I, as a boy, imagined such things?

I had to relive it, again and again, to fathom the depth of the event - so vivid and so blatant was that memory! And what it revealed was a truth that shattered the narrative of my past. All of a sudden, fragments of events that transpired through the years, bits and pieces of recollections that seemed to be random - even disconnected - attained unexpected cohesion. Indeed, a new kind of story emerged out of the void.

I opened my eyes as if waking out of a dream. The sun glinted through skies streaked by clouds. I knew by the character of the landscape that I was within the forests behind the temple. And that I was under the cover of its trees - monkeys swayed from branch to branch as I gazed with my head aback atop my knotted shoulders. Then, little by little, facets of my condition emerged. I was aware of my nakedness as water lapped against my body; I was sitting with the banks of a river, my waist to my feet submerged.

A splash hit my face as its sound assaulted my ears. I looked toward the cause of the disturbance. It was Hachi, emerging out of the waves, as exposed as the tanuki could have been with a coat of fur.

Yes, there was a part of the figure that fur could not obscure. I had not noticed it, I had not imagined it. That anything like that was possible. The proportions were so out of character given not only his nature as loving, kind monk but also the very measurements of his body itself. It was fearless display of masculinity, raw and unapologetic, and disturbingly beautiful.

I must have stared too intensely, I feared, yet I could not turn away.

Seeing it, wet and glorious, I felt the urge to reach toward it. Touch it, pet it! Shower it with affection.

Of course, there were memories of that day that were not obscured by amnesia. There were those moments when we headed toward the river to play. And when we returned toward the temple to rest. The vast middle of the event was a blur until I relived that day along the road and, after it returned, something about the day that I always remembered became obvious. It was after we dried and re-dressed: I hugged Hachi. I squeezed the tanuki tightly. Tightly as though to merge. I stroked the demon's head - the fur rolling through my fingers like they were the teeth of a comb. My friend was amused by the attention yet, while I acted, I could not fathom why I would be so affectionate after what would have been an ordinary, normal outing.

I could not fathom that reaction until the image of Hachi's exposure returned!

I returned to the scene by the road. The raccoon rummaged through my stash: it flung items away as it straddled the mouth of the sack with its tail pointed toward my face. From a certain angle, with the right kind of light, the profile of its leg was shaded with the suggestion of humanity, a sleek and muscular anatomy. It lifted its tail and I could not help but examine what it offered. There was a moment of disappointment when I realized it was not endowed with those features of a tanuki. It was decorated - although its proportions were correct with respect to the size of its body - and, again, I fought the urge to fondle those fruits ripe between legs.

Yes, the urges, the needs, the desires, it was coming back like the turning of the tides!

As much as I wanted to explore the body of my friend I knew, too, I could not take that step. He would not agree, surely, he could not let me. And how, oh how, to breach the subject? Instead, I took advantage of every bit of acceptable contact we shared. I hugged him because no one questioned it. I stroked him - his fur - because it was a common thing to do with a friend endowed with such a coat. It would have been impossible to imagine the arousal that contact spurred within my body. Impossible and unthinkable!

The seeing of it - always and forever distantly. The denial of it - that I could not express my love of it. And the torment of it - that it could be there, just under layers of fabric, yet it might as well be at the edge of the universe.

Night after night I imagined what Hachi felt where I could not touch. I understood what the fur and what the fuzz of that region would have been like. What I struggled with was the flesh. The texture of its ridges. The sense of its mass, the folds of its flesh dropping along my palms while resting within my grip. I pictured myself at that moment, at that instant, when my fingers broke through the barrier that separated idol and worshiper, and I shuddered orgasmicly at the thought of exploring those intricacies of its features.

Those were wet, sloppy nights when I fantasized.

I remember clutching a scrap of cloth I kept within my pillow - it was a cut of that tanuki's loincloth that I stole out of the laundry and it was ripe with musk of sex which I inhaled like drowning gasping air.

My revelation about the demon's secret and hidden masculine beauty caused the relationship between us to change through a number of subtle little ways. Only I appreciated the effect of that alteration. Then I used to be closer to Mushin, now I was with Hachi more and more. I manufactured excuses just to be with the creature. As much as possible, without revealing obsession, I opened lines of communications with the tanuki and discussed my hopes and fears. Then I used the emotional closeness to gain physical closeness: I spent many nights weeping into his shoulder and imploring him to stay with me.

Hachi curled behind me, unblanketed, while I wept because again I was so close yet so far.

It was obsession. Queer and alien to my spirit. As far as childhood, when I suckled the breasts of nuns, I felt attraction for females. They were so different and mysterious. I had not felt anything close to arousal by males. But then, when I think about it, I did not know too many different males and those I knew did not arouse me with their bodies anywhere as much as the sight of the nipples of the oldest kind of woman. Further, nothing matched the ease of access to that flesh - it was almost expected that men parted women's kimono to sate their urge to climax whenever and wherever the opportunity arose.

Compare that to the flesh of the male that could not be looked at without stirring suspicion....

I had not felt anything for another of my sex until that scene by the river when I was overwhelmed by how beautiful the exaggerated masculine character could be!

The forbidden nature of that love only heightened the sensations with its own unique excitement.

Beyond the regular affection between friends, the boldest overt act I dared to do was that night when, by the fire, I sat atop the tanuki's lap. I rested my head against the bulk of his body and he drew his arms about me. There, together, silently, I fancied that the heat of my body warmed the flesh denied to me - it was like loving it across a distance.

I was shaken out of my trance when an item was flung out of my sack and slapped against my face.

The raccoon had had its way with my gear and now seemed to make a home within my bag. Be mused, I brought it - the sack along with the creature inside of it - I brought it onto my lap. I brought it against the tent of my excitement which was pronounced. I clutched the lip of the bag tightly while I exposed my violet little head - it trickled with its own peculiar dew. Almost instinctively I pressed the bag against it. Without thinking I stroked myself with the sack and with the raccoon within the sack. Screeching and fighting. Bits of claws protruded through the canvas and scratched blood out of my flesh but the pleasure of the contact was too great....

We are composites of countless, contradictory impulses that just slightly coalesce coherently into identity. We are slaves to reflexes we cannot comprehend. Let alone control. If we cannot control what we find to be beautiful then what do we control? What is this that we pretend to master?

I was tormented by desire that women could not quench! The fire burned with every moment that lust was not consummated. The scar that marked my inner, psychological development bled into my sheets with the juice of my sex.

I could not have what I wanted and I feared then I accepted that it would be that way forever.

I contemplated severing my relationship with Hachi. But I could not do it - and I could not do it anymore than I could have expressed my desires to my tanuki demon. Either way I risked that friendship I desired. So I walked a line. So much had to be hidden yet with hugs and pettings here and there so much could be revealed. Perhaps, yes, perhaps, my friend would have noticed the attention and could be the first to act.

Then there was that moment when my struggle reached its climax.

Mushin and I argued the typical kind of fight between opposites of generations. I was upset and I decided, impetuously, to run away. I was still young, I did not know where I wanted to go or what I wanted to do. I just wanted to run away.

In the middle of the night, when no body looked, I ventured out of the temple.

I passed that river where it seemed like ages ago I stumbled upon unspeakable and unimaginable revelations. I opted to follow the course of the current. It was bound to lead into the ocean. There, doubtless at the site of a village, I was determined - and confident - that my wits were going to shape my future.

I did not know how long I walked only that eventually the facade of the temple faded, swallowed entirely by the trees. The pathway I followed narrowed and grew quiet, overgrown. I felt a kind of terror I was not familiar with - except, perhaps, that moment when I realized my father was not returning. Then, when the moon arose and the stars painted the sky I could not deny that I was alone.

At the trunk of a tree I sulked and wept.

Suddenly a hand clutched my shoulder...suddenly my heart skilled a beat...I looked and it was Hachi!

I sighed and collapsed into the demon's arms. I hugged and he squeezed. I petted and he rubbed his muzzle against my cheek. Then, after endless, silent eternities, I arose and kissed the creature's forehead.

The gesture was not part of the routine. It was pointedly out of character. And it was, I admit, act of desperation. I reasoned that it was worth the risk. I surmised that, since my relationship with the temple was doomed, I was going to lose all of those connections with that part of my life even Hachi.

To my surprise Hachi held my hand and squeezed while gazing into my eyes. And - and - while staring back I became aware of a new and different kind of beauty of the tanuki. I had been so obsessed by what was kept obscured between his legs that I rudely overlooked the other, accessible features. The way he looked at me, with such purpose - such determination - such lust, pure and animalistic, it was a window into the masculine I could not imagine would be shared with me.

I reached the whiskers of his muzzle and stroked its length with every ounce of longing begging release. He embraced me with a force greater than any kind of squeeze I thought I was capable of. I think I knew at that moment, at that instant, what it was to be a woman penetrated by a man and it excited me into speechlessness that my dear and best friend wanted to share that sensation with me.

Along that road, with sweat and other bodily fluids wetting my clothes, breathlessly as if my first encounter with sex, I recalled anew what happened next.

Hachi's clothes vanished and revealed the sight of those two, lovely mounds within their sack. They were so immense they dwarfed the wet, pink organ that hovered above. I stroked the length of fresh that twitched wildly within my fingers. I caressed the space between the gonads and watched, with fascination, the reactions of the skin. The way the sack bounced as its flesh tightened and relaxed; the way the skin's texture changed from smooth to rigid. I knelt and kissed the tip of his length to show my appreciation of its intimacy, its dew spread across my lips, its scent almost spurred me into orgasm.

Then the sack expanded and the demon transformed into an immense, floating being. I found myself upon it - upon the body of the creature - which turned out to be the enlargement of its sex. The tanuki inflated its sex and used the air to fly....

As we soared through the sky I snuggled between the two, round gonads. I stroked their lengths. Thoroughly. I kissed and licked their features. I massaged the shaft that straddled the sack. I drowned within the fields of fuzz that coated their flesh! Within the space of minutes - no, seconds - I lived years of fantasy. With my hands, my lips, my whole, entire body pouring my affection I loved Hachi's genitals.

I stroked his organ, which at last expanded to equal the proportions of his sack, I massaged his tip, which leaked a steady stream of dew. Then, it twitched - throbbing with the rhythm of his pulse - and erupted with a spray of seed. I rubbed his tip as he fired shot after shot until the shaft deflated and retreated. Satisfied and proud I sat and gazed at my hands which were soaked with juices as were my clothes.

We bathed at the river then dressed with wet, soggy robes.

Hachi kissed my lips then wrapped a ribbon around my hand.

But he would not let me kiss him and he would not let me feel his body through his fabric. I was distressed then he explained I did not need it anymore - the curiosity had been satisfied. What was left to do? Surely, he felt, given the nature of my family, I could not be serious about a relationship with a male. I needed to be with a female without these questions and desires pent-up within my mind. Sated I would be free....

But I was not free!And I could not, ever, be free!

The scent of his sex still taints the odor of my body!

I dropped my sack, stained with my seed, and it remained still, lifeless - my sacrifice to the tanuki.

The curiosity could not be sated. Oh, no, no, no. Now, at last, that I understood the complete history of my past, now that I knew the taste of that love, I wanted it more and more. My escapades with girl have been nothing but theater for a world that expects me to fill a certain kind of role. I cannot now deny the intensity of my nature! So raw and mindless as if impelled by the urges of animals locked within my mind. The love between man and woman could not equal the purity of that union I shared with Hachi when the walls between us tumbled.

Looking at the body of the raccoon I knew nothing was able to restrain my desire for the testicles of Hachi and I resolved, then and there, to keep the tanuki forever.

(3051)