InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Stream of Consciousness: A LiveJournal Collection ❯ A Hand's Tale ( Chapter 46 )

Title: A Hand's Tale

Community: Iyhedonism

Theme: Hands

Place Earned: none

Genre: Hentai, Humor

Universe: Feudal Era AU

Rating: R

Word count: 469

Warnings: sexual content

 

 

**POEM**

**Warning: this story contains sexual content. Adults only, please**

 

 

A Hand's Tale

 

There once was a small boy named Miroku,

who lived with his sensei at a shrine.

He dreamt of getting away,

seeing the wider world,

whenever the sun did not shine.

 

When he came of age he became a monk,

with spiritual power to spare.

And he finally left his sensei,

that drunkard lacking in hair.

 

But there was one more thing his sensei had to teach him.

“All men should learn this before they're old,” he said.

So he took Miroku to a brothel, and handed him over to some beautiful “entertainers,”

and told him “make sure you ask for some head.”

So Miroku did, and later swore he almost wound up dead.

 

The women giggled at him as he lay on his back,

panting and gasping for breath.

That felt so good, he thought. Why didn't Mushin take me here before?!

Sex had been solely reserved for making children,

but now he realized it was something more.

His cock had awakened; no longer would it be satisfied with hanging limply between his legs.

It craved a taste of whore.

 

He saw no reason to deny it;

the lovely ladies were there for his entertainment,

to fulfill his every whim,

and he sure as hell wasn't paying for it!

 

So he made his desires known,

stuttering like a fool,

and the women took off their clothes.

 

BOING!!!

 

They stared at his rod,

surprised at how rapidly it stood,

and their smiles were sincere.

Miroku didn't know it,

but they were grateful for an attractive male like him.

Usually only fat old geezers came in here.

 

He removed his robes at once,

but noticed something odd.

His right hand was glowing!

The women gave him strange looks when he told them;

to them his hand seemed normal.

But he could see the golden glow clear as day!

Shrugging it off, he resolved not to let something so trivial ruin his first lay.

 

He learned something about himself that fateful afternoon.

His glowing right hand was special.

Whenever it touched a woman,

no matter where,

she would gasp, quake and shake, moan his name,

and beg for his touch all the more.

Those lucky whores lost track of how many times they came.

 

So Miroku set out on a mission,

to pleasure all the beautiful ladies of the land.

Married or single, it mattered not;

all surrendered to a single touch of his hand.

 

Then one day he visited his master,

and found the man doing something very strange.

He was frantically pulling at his own pole,

and then he exploded, shooting his seed across the room.

 

Miroku was confused,

but decided to try it.

His mind went white,

as he succumbed to the magic of his own hand.

And no more did he bother the ladies of the land.

 

 

A/N - in case you were wondering, I am not a professional poet, lol. This is probably the first one I've written since high school English.