✦ ✦ ✦
Off went the white shrine maiden robes, baring lovely white skin beneath. In went the writhing mass of hands, the legion of flailing and fondling fingers, going ever deeper, deeper, deeper! That’s right, baby! It was my turn! A swarm of hands stripped off their red hakamas; a snarl of devouring digits burrowed deeper into their quarries, raising screams of passion that wouldn’t have sounded out of place in the lowest circles of Hell.
“Time to test out if Magic Hands are an efficient deterrent for surprise attacks! I’ve pulled the rug out from under those fantastic feet, the shoe is on the other foot, and the noises they’re making toe the line of propriety!”
“Yaaaaaaaaaagh!”
Twin peaches of burnished honey trembled; dual crescent moons of fairest alabaster quavered. Backs bent like overstretched bows and vibrated like so many plucked zithers. Tentacles were getting handsy; posterior chains were developing restless leg syndrome. I could control myself, barely, through the power of intense concentration. Some of the finer complexities were different, but the basic premise of controlling my zealous little friends was the same as it ever was. All the many calculations my internal systems had run allowed me to move my tentacles at will. The more I practiced, the more the tentacles became a part of me. You know what that means: Practice, practice, practice! Practice makes perfect, and I’m perfectly fine with that!
The ear cuff had begun life as the “Oscillation Ear Cuff: Hearing Assistance. Sound Modulation. Slots five items.” Nothing too fancy. Then I’d used mithril to upgrade it into the “Equilibrium Ear Cuff: Sense of Equilibrium Stabilization (major). Autosuggestion Nullification. Hearing Assistance. Sound Modulation. Slots seven items.” The only cuff already slotted into it was the Fortune Ear Cuff. Sooooo I slotted the “Infinite Magic Hands: Magic Tentacle Creation. Magic Tentacle Manipulation. Shapeshifting. Transforming. Hardening. Weaponizing” into it too? Yup, my hands moved house?
“Uwaaaaaaaaah!”
Hey, are you listening to me? Guess not… You seem pretty preoccupied.
“Whoa. Between the vibrating hands and the Sensitivity Boost mucus, you girls look like you’re having one hell of a time. Who’da thought that little tiny cilia and mucus would be such a popular combination? You girls are practically jumping for joy! Bucking, even! Which one’s better, d’you think—the weird growths or the warts? Well, let’s give ’em both a shot and you can tell me once the experiment’s done.”
“Nnnnghhhaaaaaah!”
The shrine maiden costumes were peeled off past the point of shame, allowing globules of mucus to begrime the immaculate expanse of fetching flesh. Carefully coiffed ’dos came undone; beauty writhed in the antithesis of agony. Thousands of tumescent tentacles lavished attention, ravished convention; little bumpy tongue surfaces ran their prehensile palates across bound-fast bodies; faces spasmed in time with the vibrations and flicked between shot after shot of broken ecstasy… Yeah, seemed like it was a big hit? Good for them! Good for them!
“What do I call this move? Vibrating…wave…thingy? Hand ripples? Whipquan? Eh, who cares—it’ll all be handwaved away anyway.”
My bulging protrusions coated the girls’ round posteriors in a thick slick of slime. Tentacles kneaded mounds of pliant flesh. The cilia that coated each tentacle, the same cilia I’d borrowed from one of the plants in this world, swished and slid across each jittering butt cheek, providing an additional stimulation sensation.
“Yeah, I set these things on auto and let them randomize the movements? It’s easiest that way. You guys seem to prefer irregular movements, and I’m always happy to respond to positive feedback.”
“Nyyyaaaaaah!”
The tentacles’ vibration agitation was merciless. Ever shifting positions, ever attacking sensitive spots, ever pinpointing which fondle would elicit the most pleasure, the tentacles maintained their onslaught. Whenever the girls reacted to the ministrations, the tentacles responded in turn, changing shape, switching modes—licking, writhing, sucking, groping, fondling, petting—toggling Vibration magic on and off, ejecting weak pulses of Lightning magic to stimulate and tease their victims.
“It’d be hard to manually control the operation—there’s three of you and only one of me, y’know? Before I put that in action, I’m gonna need a lot of practice. A lot a lot. Guess I’d better allot some time for it now?”
“Waaaaagh!”
The mucus-soaked costumes clung to every convex surface on the dungeon emperors’ pleasing forms, showcasing the finest aspects of their bodily brilliance as the tentacles jiggled the emperors in every conceivable direction at once. With every shudder, every arch of a back, the tentacles took the opportunity to worm themselves into an even more pleasurable position. Bound up and wound up, the dungeon emperors contorted themselves into an art gallery’s worth of pleasant images. Hmm… I think I need to adjust the elasticity.
“Like they say, practice like you’re on the battlefield—although I’d rather not try this out on the monsters… They also say you get better at what you lech, so at this rate, they ought to call me a Thighmaster. Y’know?”
“Aaah, ahh, ah, ah, ah, ah, ahhhh!”
Yes, the only thing to do was practice like a pervert, rehearse like a rake, and drill like a debaucher. Honest work paid off, and whatever the hell this dishonorable activity was promised to have even bigger rewards. Only dungeon emperors could have endured such a test of sexual stamina. That’s right! ’Cause this is a test designed to make ’em pass—or pass out, as the case may be.
Oh no, it just occurred to me…I’m going to have to keep this horrific destructive force in check the next time I do bra fitting. Yeesh!