Ranma 1/2 Fan Fiction ❯ Chained World: The Fall of the House of Kuno ❯ A Samurai Again, Or Perhaps a Ninja ( Chapter 31 )

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

This was originally published by me under the name Anduril at Anime Addventures, with the only changes being a few corrections in spelling, punctuation and the occasional word choice. If you like the beginning of my story but think I've gone off the rails, or have your own ideas for a great branch-off, or think I'm taking too long to update and want to continue the story yourself, come to Anime Addventures and join in the fun!
I claim no ownership rights to any of the works of Rumiko Takahashi.
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Ranma writhed, hands clutching at her bountiful breasts, her master's head in its position between her legs. Her hips were pushing against Kuno's juices-coated face, his arms wrapped around her thighs the only thing keeping her thrusts under control enough to hold them together. The sweat-slicked redhead threw her head back, moaning and gasping, eyes unseeing as another wave of pleasure washed through her from the tongue eagerly playing with the wet folds of her cleft and sweeping across her clit. Suddenly, she stiffened with a shout as the now well-familiar feeling of another orgasm exploded out from her hot sheath and raced up her body.
Collapsing limply back onto their huge bed, she lay there dazedly gasping for breath as he rose from between her legs. She hastily suppressed the frown threatening to break out. That wasn't up to Kuno's usual standards, she thought, confused. He's been distracted all evening — I had an even easier time than usual during kenjutsu practice, he was unusually disjointed at dinner — is he finally getting ready to move against Akane? A rush of conflicting emotions washed through the hopefully-temporary girl at the thought. Kuno had been gentle, kind, considerate since she'd found herself in his bed; Usagi adored him (and someone that ray of sunshine liked couldn't be all bad). But he was also the monster that had tried to force the Tendos into slavery, Akane into his bed, had succeeded in doing just that with “his pigtailed girl,” had forced Soun to commit seppuku — and, more than anything, Ranma wanted to go home!
“I would say my lady is well prepared for the true flight above the clouds,” Kuno said, breaking into Ranma's thoughts as he sat back on his heels and ran a finger along his chin. Leaning forward, he offered it to his bedmate, and Ranma lifted her head to capture the finger with her mouth, lips gently holding it in place as her tongue worked around it, cleaning it as the tangy-tart flavor of her own juices filled her mouth. Kuno slowly pulled it out as she sucked, and she smiled saucily up at him as the finger popped free.
“So, what's on the menu for tonight?” she asked.
“Tonight we'll try a new position from my inexhaustible repertoire!” Kuno replied.
Ranma's smile turned into a laugh. “Yeah, like that's new — it's been a new position every night ya've been here, that you've been in charge.”
“Ah, but it is my duty to keep things interesting for my Lady!” he asserted, striking a pose and startling a laugh from the redhead.
“Okay, what do I do?” she asked.
Within moments, Ranma was stretch out on her side, one arm stretched along the bed above her head while the other hand again played gently with one of her crinkled-tight nipples. One leg was also lying outstretched along the bed's damp and stained sheet. Her owner was crouched over her leg on the bed, her other leg stretched up over his shoulder as he clutched it to his chest with one arm, pressed against the slave-collar chain she had insisted on wearing when they had sex. His other hand grasped his erection, guiding its head along her dripping folds, and Ranma sucked in a breath as he pulled back, then her folds were slowly pushed apart as he gently pushed his cockhead between them and up deep into her sheath and his iron-hard rod followed.
Kuno built up a rhythm of slow, deep thrusts alternating with quick jabs, shifting his position to change the angle from time to time. Ranma was again moaning between gasps, and she saw his smile broaden as one thrust called out a particularly loud yip from the receptacle of his pleasure. “I do believe I have found a particularly sensitive spot,” he said between deep breaths of his own. “I shall have to remember it.” Then his smile vanished as he picked up the pace even more.
Ranma closed her eyes, hand moving from a breast grown even larger than normal to rub at the nub above the rod pistoning into her depths, as she again felt the pressure building inside her hot center with each pounding thrust — almost there ... almost there —
And she felt Kuno's flesh gripped by her wet hotness grow even harder, twitch, and his seed exploded into her, rhythmically spurting even deeper to fill her core and seep out around his length and run down across her thigh to add new stains to the sheet under them. Not yet! she wailed in her mind, but Kuno pulled back and his softening rod slid out of her cleft to rest on her leg, its coating of her juices and his seed glinting in the room's bright light.
After a moment, his breathing slowing, he lifted a hand to wipe sweat-damp hair from his forehead, then lay down to pull her body against his own in a one-arm hug. “Sorry,” he murmured, his usual flowery speech absent. “I ... that hasn't happened in ... give me a few minutes and I'll make it up to you.”
Ranma sighed and pulled her hand from where it had been trapped between the pair's hips. “Okay, Kuno-dono, what's goin' on?” she asked.
“And why should my Lady believe that something is `goin' on'?” Kuno asked.
Ranma's lips twitched. “You've been distracted ever since ya got home, and that's the first time ya haven't gotten me off before ya let yerself go.” Steeling herself, she asked hesitantly, “Is it Ranma? Has he broken his agreement with you? Are ya movin' against the Tendos again?”
Kuno lifted himself up on one arm. Gazing down at the sweat-shiny face of his slave, he shook his head. “No, it isn't,” he said, disappointment clear in his voice. “So far, that demonic enslaver of the fairer sex has proved remarkably honorable — there hasn't been a sign of him since you were delivered up to the slave master's retainers, though your sister in slavery has yet to break free of the chains he has bound around her and the hooligans that have been attacking the display screen at the slave center may well be his minions.”
“So what is it?” Ranma demanded again, ignoring the rush of disappointment intermingled with a touch of relief that washed through her. “Come on, nothin' else is happenin' `till ya tell me.”
Kuno's eyes widened, then he dipped his head in an abrupt bow. “As my mistress commands!” he intoned, grinning when Ranma stiffened. His face sobering, he lay back down, on his back, staring at the plain ceiling as he spoke of the evil permeating his lording, his plans for an overwhelming strike against the villains, and — reluctantly — about his doubts about the trustworthiness of the lording's police force and his worries about the coming assault against the transshipment point.
When he finished, Ranma rolled from her side to stare at the ceiling herself. After a long moment, she murmured, “So, ya gotta make the raid when the most girls are there to be rescued, but ya don't know if ya can trust yer own people. Good call, yer right ta be worried.” Rolling back on her side and propping herself up on an elbow, it was her turn to gaze down at her master's face. “Ya know, what ya need is someone on the inside — who can be ready ta protect the girls if somethin' goes wrong with the raid.”
“And how would I get this ally inside?” Kuno asked. “These otokodate thugs know each other, anyone new would require vouchering and a reason for his presence.”
“And what if it isn't a `he'? What if it's a `her' instead?” Ranma rebutted. “Ya obviously have someone inside these otokodate passin' ya info, how about passin' somethin' the other way? What's one more kidnapped girl bein' shipped off ta some brothel or harem?”
Kuno's eyes widened. “That is truly brilliant!” he enthused, then frowned. “But whatever girl we send in will need to be highly skilled in the unarmed martial arts and willing to risk being raped if she has not preserved her chastity — sometimes these thugs make use of those girls who have already given up their virginity while waiting to send them on.”
“Not a problem,” Ranma said offhandedly. “I already know someone who's ready ta volunteer.” As Kuno's gaze sharpened, she added, “Me.”
“No!” Kuno shouted, jerking up to a sitting position. “Never! I will not allow the light of my life, the center of my universe, to be treated so foully!”
Yeah, like they'll do much more ta me that ya haven't already ... Ranma slid off the bed and stood, arms folded across her bare breasts. “Am I a warrior, Kuno-dono?” she asked. “A weapon ta yer hand ta be used against bastards like these? Or am I just a pretty bird ta sing fer ya from my cage?” Kuno stared at her, struck speechless, and she continued with a shrug, “Yeah, I could end up gettin' raped. It isn't anything that any girl trained ta combat doesn't hafta think about — everybody loses sometimes, an' whoever beats `em might not be exactly honorable. It's simply one a' the risks a' being a warrior, if yer female.”
“But what about your Adjustment? Wouldn't that interfere with your ability to act?” Kuno asked desperately.
Ranma shook her head. “Naw — don't forget, the Adjustment allows me ta defend myself so long as you aren't the one doin' the attackin'. These thugs aren't gonna expect me ta be Adjusted, so it shouldn't be hard ta convince them that I'm a threat and act accordingly — an' then I can act accordingly.
“So, do we do whatever we hafta ta save those girls?”
Finally, Kuno reluctantly nodded. “Yes, we do. I will speak with the conduit for our contact within the otokodate to arrange smuggling you in.
“But that is for tomorrow,” he added, eyes running along the smoothly-muscled form so proudly on display, then focusing on the sweat-dampened patch of trimmed red hair over a cleft still lubricated by his seed slowly seeping from between reddened folds and inching down her legs. His semi-limp manhood rose at the sight and he held out an open hand. “Come, let me make up for my earlier lapse before we seek out our dreams.”