InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Hedonism ❯ Air: Sango, Why Do You Torment Boys With Kisses? ( Chapter 19 )

"Air: Sango, Why You Molest Boys With Kisses?" by Abraxas (2008-09-21)

I wasn't a normal little girl. It didn't involve my family's profession - within my village it wasn't special - I guess I wasn't born right. The wrong time and space. The wrong body. I just wasn't like the others and it expressed itself through this altogether very different fixation.

No one could have suspected it - even Kohaku was oblivious of the passion that drove the obsession. The very thought of it would have been as alien as Kagome's future era. Unthinkable. Sinful. Wrong - I wonder.

I don't think it's unnatural. This thing of mine isn't robbery or murder. Or rape. It couldn't be! No. It couldn't be?

I swear it's wholesome, simple innocence. It's victimless. And I refuse to reconsider it. I know it is natural. Although the subject is delicate. Once it's breached my boys don't fight it.

I tell you it's without a victim. How can they be hurt? How can I be hurt? To be sure there tends to be a shock. A hesitation. I find persistence and a show of tenderness overcomes the fear. Acting natural - as if it were, indeed, a thing to do with children - fosters trust. Soon it becomes a special little treat to look forward to.

It's a kind of universal curiosity. I'm different, because, I'm not afraid of it. I express it. Where others would be uncomfortable I'm not ashamed. Maybe, then, maybe it's due to my upbringing. That my training as a slayer awakened the masculine within.

I've always been fascinated. It's the mystery of the sexes but it's not sexual. It's a desire that's profound yet subtle. I find it's a union superior to sex. This obsession. It's a communion unlike mere, gratuitous penetration. This fixation - it's the yearning toward a window into what it would be like to inhabit the bodies of boys.

It's a bond. A sweet, gentle connection. Why would it be sin?


I remember the moment I was struck by desire.

I saw it by accident when Kohaku and I trekked through the forest. I didn't mean to catch my own, little brother. Honest. But what happened happened. And I was addicted. Soon I watched whenever the opportunity arrived. Nudity - the body itself - isn't taboo. I know he didn't mind it and I didn't force it anyway. Then, with time, then it wasn't enough just to watch.

Yes - I remember the instant my life changed!

When I reached through that wall between the sexes I was overwhelmed by Kohaku's visible and striking reaction. A shyness mixed with nervousness. A feeling of pure, innocent intimacy. It's missing with men yet abundant with boys.

It's so beyond their expectation of what's possible -

And it doesn't hurt my boys. They're not altered. Their behavior doesn't change. At least until they grow out of it - that age from boyhood to manhood - when they understand the pleasures of their bodies. Then the magic of that moment fades away like a flower wilting. It is then and only then that the true victim is revealed - I!

To suffer what I suffer….

The worst of my string of heartbreaks was Shippo - there had been many, many boys though only Shippo was truly beautiful - I want to remember the first not the last.

Thoughts of the kitsune tainted my life awake and asleep. My torment was stoked by those suggestions of nakedness I snatched along the travels. What I saw was so tender and sweet. Virginal, smooth skin. Undeveloped even immature features. The bud of a flower that I fantasized growing with the palms of my hands.

I took advantage of a night when Kagome was away and Miroku and Inuyasha left the village to fetch supplies.

We kept by the fire. He drew while I drank. I wondered how to act, I vacillated between doing it and not doing it, then I was graced by luck. All of a sudden Shippo crawled into my lap!

I offered the kitsune a sip of Sake. He refused but I insisted and he agreed. A second. A third. A fourth. The bottle was empty. He was not yet as drunk as I - that was not the object of my plot - nevertheless I noticed a playful and boisterous lack of inhibition.

Then the effect I intended!

He said he needed to go to the forest. I said it would be safer to stay by the fire. Nodding, he stood and sidestepped. I watched - I couldn't believe how simple it would be! - I trembled rapt by excitement. He loosened his kimono: with his right hand he clutched his hakama, with his left hand he dug within its folds. Just like that he exposed it and streamed a line of urine.

I gazed - I followed the stream from where it splattered to where it sourced. A tiny, pink head rimmed by skin. He didn't hold it, rather, he kept it atop his palm. It was just long enough that its tip poked past the edge of his pale, fat fingers.

It was magnificent! Perfect! Flawless!

I grasped it.

"Sango?" he asked but did not protest.

He was shocked but not scared.

He released it and I held it. I felt the water flow through its length and fill its tip. I squeezed it just enough to heighten that sensation. It felt like a small, little creature with a strange yet powerful life! For that moment, that instant, when I held that boy while he urinated, I felt that my own, inner masculine was alive.

I kissed it - droplets of urine wetting my lips - then I watched Shippo tuck it away. Then the normal way between us resumed untarnished. That bond we shared was sweet and natural and wholesome!

I couldn't hurt my boys! I couldn't hurt what I loved! Gods, I only wanted to be part of that uniquely male act. That object of my obsession.

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