Taimanin Asagi: Ninja in Peril

When consciousness came, it came with a cough. A mouth opened, gasping, choking, unfamiliar movements straining muscles. Eyes fluttered open, too overwhelmed by light to see anything. Slowly, as eyelids blinked over and over, objects gained focus and sharpness, resolving into distinct shapes. An image began to form. But the view kept shifting, the head lolling around, unable to focus on any one thing in particular. Everything was new, everything was unusual.

At one moment there was a series of shapes below the viewer, built into the floor as a geometric pattern.

They look like horses.

The next there were 7 bright lights arranged in a honeycomb pattern above.

Honey is sweet.

The press of information was so great as to make it almost impossible for awareness to impose a hierarchy on all the sensations and judgments. Everything was as important as everything else. The air touched the body and made hairs stand on end and nipples so stiff they ached. Limbs were splayed out, ankles and wrists strapped into the device. The gaze looked down at the body it inhabited, and dark purple hair drifted down into view.

I am a woman.

Yes, she could recognize her own body. She knew the breasts for her own, and below them could see her smooth belly and the soft patch of dark hair above her crotch. She could feel things when she saw it, sensations like fingers and hands on her body, being penetrated and overwhelmed again and again. She knew physical love, and the desire to be filled merely to feel needed. She thought for a moment, and remembered her face, and the piercing green eyes that could see an attack coming before it happened.

I am Igawa Asagi.

The thought was a mental beacon, allowing the intellect to begin to organize disparate images and sensations and thoughts into something approaching coherence. Slowly but surely, she began to map out the jumbled mess behind her eyes. The name came with memories, some so sharp she could feel the blows on her body, and others that lingered at the edge of consciousness, disappearing like mist when she tried to focus on them.

She remembered her sister, Sakura, leaving their house with a piece of toast in her mouth, waving.

A name meant an identity.

An identity meant a world that identity was situated in. Suddenly, the room Asagi was in came into sharp relief as she began to place everything into categories. The walls around her were simple white metal. A computer console stood three meters away from her. The air was bitterly cold, and Asagi's breath fogged in front of her. The table she was on was situated between two strange pillar-like devices about her own height. She tried pulling her arms, and the cuffs around her wrists were too strong for her to pull off.

This isn't right .

Asagi didn't know why she knew it, but she felt it in her stomach. Something was wrong. She wasn't supposed to be here, wherever here was. Names of places flew threw her mind, but they were all muddled, all half-sunken into each other. Goshadahara. UF Kingdom. Tokyo World. All wrong, wrong, wrong, and somehow Asagi knew it.

I am a Taimanin.

Asagi was a prisoner here. But who had captured her? She fought demons, but nothing in the room around her reminded her of the orcs she could think of. Asagi tried to think what she was doing before being captured, but couldn't pierce the darkness behind her. Had she been with Sakura? Sakura wasn't a Taimanin, was she alright? The thought of her sister being hurt because of her made Asagi's chest tight.

A sound intruded on Asagi's mental organization, a door sliding open. The click of sharp heels on metal followed, coming from behind Asagi. The ninja waited in uncertainty, and watched as a womanly figure passed by her, heading towards the console. She had short purple hair cut in a bob, and wore a black and red outfit that shone under the ceiling lights, with fishnet criss-crossing her outer thighs and legs. When she got to the console she turned, and Asagi got a better look at the woman's face, with her violet eyes, full red lips, and small elfin nose. She was somewhat beautiful, but there was a look in her face that spoke of a limitless reservoir of arrogance.

Asagi stared at the newcomer. A million questions flooded her brain. Who are you? Why am I here? Where are we? Where's my sister? Are you here to help me? Where is Midoriseishu Academy and why can't I remember anything except the name? She opened her mouth, and nothing came out. The words clung to the inside of Asagi's throat. She coughed twice, then a hoarse sound like a cat with a furball fell out of her mouth.

The noise caught the visitor's attention, and her eyes alone moved to watch Asagi. In those eyes was something that Asagi hated. She didn't know what it was, but her heart began to pound, her chest constrict, her vision narrow. In the cold room, she began to sweat. Her throat strained, her jaw clenched. She hated this woman. She hated everything about her. She hated her stance, her appearance, her cat-like demeanor. She hated the smug hatred in the other woman's eyes, that looked at her body as if it were just a piece of meat.

Something clicked.

" OBORO! "

The name erupted out of Asagi, filling the room and bouncing off the walls, before slowly dying away and leaving the soft whirring of machines behind.

Asagi panted, her throat dry. It was like she'd never spoken before. Oboro barely noticed the outburst, only pressing a button on the console.

"Doctor, I think this one's ready now."

Oboro stepped back from the console and watched Asagi, her expression unchanging as Asagi growled and tried to fight at her restraints. Something deep in Asagi wanted to tear that woman apart, limb from limb, wanted to fight out of this situation. A few minutes later, the door opened again, and another individual appeared.

This one was a man, old and dignified, wrapped in a heavy black indoor coat, with a metal and wood walking cane in hand. His face was sharp and angular, with a tall projecting nose and sharp cheeks. His long black hair draped over his back to between his shoulders. Only after a moment did Asagi realize the metal protrusion installed in his skull, a bright chrome replacement for his eye. He looked bored as he approached the console.

"I think this one might be interesting, Barde," Oboro said.

The name collided with a floating descriptor. Barde Barde was a dangerous sorcerer and magical researcher. If Oboro was working with him, and had Asagi in this situation, then something had gone terribly wrong. Had Asagi been ambushed? Captured off the street?

Asagi pulled at the restraints as futile as before. "What are you doing?" she demanded, her voice still hoarse and rough.

Barde Barde let out a deep breath. "I am doing what any good scientist does. Research." He pressed a few buttons, and Asagi felt the internals of the deep table she was on come to life and begin to whir.

"What do you want with me?"

Barde Barde rolled his eyes, like he was speaking to a child. "When given a subject, a scientist must first find the limits of it. To do otherwise is to invite unacceptable confusion and wasted effort. Only when the limits are fixed, the research space delineated, may fruitful investigations come to pass." His German accent reminded her that there was a country called Germany somewhere.

"How do you find those limits, Barde?" Asagi asked, unable to stop herself.

"For analytical subjects, for example metaphysics or law, logical deduction is sufficient to prove incontrovertible and scientific truths. But when it comes to synthetic subjects, the Amtal principle is required," he replied, as if he was repeating himself to a lackluster student. Asagi couldn't place the word, but something ominous lurked in it.

Coming towards Asagi, Barde Barde checked the restraints. His eyes passed over Asagi's body without any reaction. Asagi knew that many men wanted her, but this man felt nothing towards Asagi's charms. Fear began to well up inside Asagi, but she refused to be cowed by it. "And what are you researching?"

"Igawa Asagi," he answered.

Returning to the console, Barde Barde made some small adjustments. Oboro lounged against the back wall, arms crossed over the deep decolletage of her suit that exposed the heavy inner curves of her breasts and even her navel. Her hatred for Asagi was clear, but even it seemed dulled, like Asagi had come into a party when it was already finishing up.

"How much pain will she feel?" Oboro said, but the glee in her voice didn't cut.

"As much as I deem necessary," Barde replied, not even looking at the erstwhile partner.

"I won't tell you anything!" Asagi growled. "Torture me all you like, but I won't betray the Taimanin!"

Betrayal! That was why she hated Oboro. Remembering the source for the feeling made it feel more real. Asagi held onto the hate, as it helped keep her fear in check.

"Fine," Barde replied. He pressed a few more buttons, then looked up at Asagi. His green-glass artificial lens stared through the ninja. "I am not asking you anything." The pillars on either side of Asagi connected to the table. Barde pressed a button.

It was barely a moment, barely perceptible. One moment Asagi was fine, the next she was coughing and gasping, pain stabbing at her throughout her body. Her hands trembled wildly in their restraints. Barde spent a few moments reading the console, readouts from Asagi's body being recorded the entire time.

Before Asagi could say anything it happened again. One moment Asagi was looking at the lights above her. The next, her head drooped down, staring at the ground. Each time she felt like knives were being driven into every nerve ending in her. Her eyes watered, and she tried to catch her breath as best she could.

Suddenly, she realized what was being done to her – she was being electrocuted. The device she was on had to be some kind of insulator that ensured that the charge going from pillar to pillar passed through her body. Asagi clenched her teeth.

When the next shock hit her, she was almost prepared for it. She twisted a little, but not as much as before. Without knowing why, she closed her eyes and concentrated on her breathing. The pain began to dull. The next shock was longer, a full second of current raging through her limbs. But when it was over, Asagi didn't even grunt.

Barde began to increase the length of the shocks. And yet, for all Asagi was afraid, she also knew somehow that this was nothing. She had faced worse things than this and emerged victorious. The mere knowledge of that fortified her, and the shocks dulled more and more. 10 seconds of shocking ran through Asagi's figure, and she rode it like a surfer on a huge wave, letting it pass through her. When she drifted back down into her body, she knew there was pain, but it wasn't anything she couldn't handle.

Opening her eyes, Asagi looked at Oboro. The smile had faded quickly enough. The traitor Taimanin merely stared at Asagi, the disdain in her eyes cold and bloodless. For reasons Asagi could not pin down, the bored look was more terrifying to Asagi than the torture. It was like she wasn't there, like she wasn't real.

"Got somewhere else to be, you bitch?" Asagi panted.

Oboro's expression rapidly shifted, to an offended sneer and then to something else, something more predatory. It was a shadow of what Asagi knew the monster could pull off, but somehow seeing the fire in Oboro reassured her. Oboro hated Asagi and Asagi hated Oboro. That hatred was real, and the hatred affirmed Asagi's existence outside of her own head.

"This one's got spunk, doctor," Oboro purred. "I think we should indulge her little masochistic streak."

Barde's eyebrows furrowed. "I am conducting this test according to exact specifications to ensure continuity of responses."

"And you know well by now that she can handle the lower levels," Oboro replied. "Look at her! She's practically riding high. I bet the pig won't even cum if you take it so easy on her."

The sexual comment threw Asagi off guard. She growled in anger, but couldn't deny that there was something happening inside her. But it couldn't be sexual! That was unnatural!

Barde sighed, and adjusted a dial. Asagi closed her eyes, again concentrating on her breathing. She expected more of the previous shocks. She could handle this.

What hit her was a burning pain so horrendous that she couldn't have been prepared for it before it happened. A sharp scream shot out of her mouth, unable to be held inside. "Aaah!"

The shock ended after an instant, but the pain lingered. It was like she'd been flayed open and then salted. Breathing hurt. Slumping forward against her restraints, Asagi groaned. But before she could recover, another shock struck her, and then another after that. Her body contorted against the restraints, her muscles straining wildly, trying to break her limbs.

A moment of respite between shocks, and Asagi gasped, tears gliding down her cheeks, even their gentle tracks hurting her too-sensitive skin. Everything hurt. Her eyes pulsed with her wild heartbeat, her very teeth tingling. Asagi tried to count every throb of pain that she could feel, and lost track after a few seconds, too overwhelmed to number them all.

Asagi felt a knot of pain on her clitoris, which was swollen and poking out from its sheath. She knew what that meant, but this couldn't be arousal, could it? She didn't remember liking being hurt, but what if she did?

Another long shock hit Asagi. Instead of riding this one, she was carried away inside it like a tsunami victim. Asagi's mind began to imagine the electricity flowing through her like an invisible parasite. It covered her, filled her, insinuated itself into her every nook and cranny, leaving nothing untouched or untainted. Her body was not hers to command while this enemy was inside her. Muscles around her bladder relaxed, unable to stay firm, but nothing dribbled out.

The shock ended, and Asagi found her thoughts almost as jumbled as they had been before the torture began. Was this why she was so confused? Had she been shocked so hard before that her brain had gotten fried? A nameless dread filled Asagi. She tried to hold onto the hate she felt. Why else would Oboro do this to her except if she hated her?

Barde Barde spent a few minutes reading the sensors, Oboro occasionally shooting a glance over his shoulder. Asagi could barely make them out, her eyes were so unfocused. She opened her mouth, and found her insult turned into a long, drawn-out shriek of pain before the words even left her mouth. When the shock stopped, Asagi sobbed, unable to do anything else. Her body steamed in the cold room, her sweat so hot that as it dripped off her it misted before it hit the ground.

In the back of her mind, she knew also that there had been something else in that shock. She had been forced to orgasm, the pain pushing her like it had raped her, until her pussy was squeezing on nothing.

Barde Barde continued to note details on his console about the physiological reactions, including the sexual response. Oboro smirked at it, but Barde was professional enough to remember that they were supposed to be keeping their personal interventions to a minimum. He turned the dial a fraction of a centimeter, and watched impassively as Asagi let out yelps and screams. He'd heard them before, and found them uninteresting, but Oboro found something to latch onto.

"I like the sounds this one makes," Oboro commented, as if Barde Barde were anything approaching a conversationalist. "Her screams are more… girlish, almost." Her comments fell on deaf ears though, and the traitor Taimanin sighed at the asocial researcher. "But won't she bite her tongue off if she's unlucky?"

"If it happens, it happens." Barde responded in his cold, distant manner. More shocks went through Asagi, and the pair watched as she was pushed further and further into the depths of pain.

Was this ever going to end? Asagi was terrified of the answer. Was she going to die here? Was Barde Barde going to keep increasing the amps going through her until her heart stopped? But what scared Asagi was how resilient her body was. Would her body withstand something her mind couldn't? Were they going to keep shocking her until there was nothing left but a jittering meat puppet, drooling vacantly beneath empty eyes?

Barde Barde motioned to the door, and he and Oboro left the room, leaving Asagi alone again. The moment the door shut, Asagi let out a desperate sob. A long, pathetic cry drained out of her throat, her aching chest barely moving up and down.

She didn't want to die here. But what were they doing? Why was Oboro doing this to her? Oboro hated her, didn't she? But then why was she so disinterested about Asagi's possible death? There was something wrong about her posture towards what she was seeing. The evil bitch was barely even taunting her, or gloating, or anything like that! If Oboro knew she was about to kill Asagi, wouldn't she be taking every second of it, making it as dramatic as possible? She hadn't even said anything about Asagi's humiliating orgasm!

But why would Asagi know what Oboro would do? The more she tried to push her mind into her memories, the more she was confronted with blank pieces. She is a Taimanin, but she can't remember the names of other ninja. She has a sister, but can't remember how old Sakura is. She hates Oboro, but what that betrayal was she can't precisely pin down.

Panic began to boil in Asagi. Who was she? Was she real? Did any of these memories have any real existence? Was there even a real world? This torture chamber couldn't be the whole of existence, could it? For an instant, Asagi teetered on the edge of the abyss. If she fell into it, she knew nothing would be real, and she would break. She would beg Oboro to stop the pain, because Oboro had to be God. Was there anything wrong with debasing oneself before the God who could cause pain?

But Asagi had insulted her, and it had touched her somehow. That was real! She was real! Asagi held onto it as best she could, because it was all she had. She held on to the mutual hate to help put the pain in perspective. If Oboro wanted to break her, she'd have to do better than this.

Watching Asagi from behind the walls, Oboro purred as she watched the torture victim stiffen with inner resolve. This was new and interesting. "She hasn't broken down yet," she said, almost admiring.

"This specimen has taken far more in both intensity and duration," Barde said, merely looking at the woman as a machine of flesh and blood. "Did you tamper with this batch?" The sorcerer's question was as sharp as a sword, like he was interrogating a lowly graduate student.

Oboro held up her hands innocently. "Oh no! I would never think to do something to make your work harder than it already is. I'm as interested as you are in the limits of the Strongest Taimanin's body, or else I wouldn't have come to you, would I?" Barde's remaining natural eye trained on Oboro, questioning her without words. Oboro shrugged. "This one seemed to take longer to recognize me than usual when I entered. Perhaps the transfer process was a little weaker than it should have been?"

"Why would that-" Barde started, but Oboro cut him off with her hand.

"I know you are not so stupid as to think the mind cannot influence the body, Doctor. But if the memories are weaker, she may have to fight harder to hold onto what she does have," Oboro tapped a finger to her lips as she considered the possibilities. "How interesting!"

"A failure, if true, and this whole test has been meaningless!" Barde grumbled. "What good is a one-off specimen that cannot have responses mapped one to one with the original!" The sorcerer stabbed his cane against the ground in anger, the metal tip ringing on the metal floor.

"You're letting your Germanic sensibilities get in the way of innovation, Doctor. Don't lie to me, because I know you're as bored of doing the same thing over and over again as I am. Think of it as an opportunity! Maybe we can see how high she can really go?"

Barde humphed, and the pair re-entered the torture room. Asagi breathed through clenched teeth. Her eyes watched Oboro and Oboro alone, and the traitor noticed it.

"Do… do your worst…" Asagi dared Oboro. In those green eyes, Oboro saw the hate as clear as day, but there was more. Desperation. Something within this clone needed Oboro, needed Oboro more than anything else. Oboro kept her expression smugly neutral, but her mind raced with the implications.

"Re-commencing testing at 100k milliamps," Barde intoned.

" KKKgggghhhKKKAAAAHHH!! " The clone of Asagi let out an inhuman shriek. Oboro had heard a dozen other clones cry out with the same vocal cords as this one, the same as the original, and each of the previous clones had died, their last words asking Sakura for forgiveness. But this one! This one seemed fixated on Oboro almost to the exclusion of all else.

Arcs of electricity jumped along the clone's skin. Would the original act like this? Would her enemy, the bitch who'd killed her, really spend some of the last of her strength on taunting Oboro to do her worst? Maybe, maybe not. But Oboro licked her lips. She watched the lovely limbs twist to the breaking point, the breasts shake to and fro, the pelvis come forward as the back arched.

Oh, how Oboro loved that body! How she loved to abuse it! She knew the excuse for the project – see if there was a way to use pain to bypass Asagi's strong mental protections and finally break her. But just seeing that lovely feminine body in pain caused Oboro pleasure.

The current stopped, and the clone slumped forward. Her breathing was harsh and ragged. On the console, Oboro could see the heart monitor showing the wild and arrhythmic beating of the clone's heart. Even the body of the Strongest Taimanin could not take much more, no matter her determination.

She didn't know who she was, really, Oboro thought. She thought she was Asagi. Would Asagi have a dripping pussy after being shocked so horrifically? Oboro smirked at her own memories. Now that was a response that would probably carry over to the original.

Barde reached out to begin the most-likely fatal shock, and Oboro's hand shot out to grab his wrist. He shot an angry glance at her, more for the presumption than anything else.

"Give her some time, Doctor," Oboro said, releasing Barde's hand from her intensely powerful grip.

The doctor pulled it back, shaking his wrist. "What about the experiment?"

"Pick some other method for the next specimen, I've grown tired of this, as have you." Oboro walked over to the steaming clone and grabbed her chin, forcing her head up and from side to side, examining her. "We'll do a parallel run for the next test, I'm not wasting another week in play-acting the same way over and over again."

Barde opened his mouth to object, but closed it and harrumphed. "I suppose we could do something with direct nerve induction on the next batch of twelve."

"No, that's boring," Oboro replied. Reaching down, she shoved two fingers into the clone's wet pussy, feeling her hymen. The clone moaned pitifully, then more loudly as Oboro jammed her thumb against her clitoris. "I want something she can see. Some sort of acid."

The sorcerer resigned himself to the whims of the cruel ninja and shrugged. "Fine. And I will dispose of that one?"

Oboro looked back at him and shook her head. "Oh no. I want this one for myself." She leaned in close to the clone's face, their noses touching, their breaths mingling together. "I have so many ideas for you. You'll only look at me, only talk with me, only love me, only hate me."

In her dim, pain-limned awareness, Asagi barely registered what the insane woman was saying. But she heard something clear, before she finally lost all strength and consciousness fled.

"I want to see how deep your hate really goes, little one!"

***

The bedroom was all crimson silk velvet and bright, almost golden, wood, carved with immense and intricate patterns and scenes that could draw the eye and keep one's attention for days. On a large circular table was a depiction of Mt. Hourai, the home of the immortals, with a top-down view of the mighty palace surrounded by mountains. A hanging shield on the wall showed the thousand-armed Kannon, blessing the occupants of the room. Above the wide bed was a scene reminiscent of the three sagely friends crossing Tiger Stream. From a distance, it all looked innocuous, like what one might have seen from an imperial prince's chamber in long-gone days.

But looking closer, one might see disturbing signs. The immortals of Mt. Hourai engaged not in the dignified cultural arts or intellectual pursuits, but defiled the maids and each other with alchemical concoctions that warped their bodies into unnatural and inhuman forms, with cocks as big as legs tearing apart partners who were clearly orgasming as they died. Kannon, her smile not beatific, but seductive, had not only a thousand arms, but a thousand vaginas as well, each one being filled by some demon, monster, or wretch, being birthed and violating her at the same time. And the sagely friends were not laughing at how deep their friendship was, but at a poor woman being raped by a tiger while its jaws crushed her skull.

Hanging from the wall, leaning forward, her arms and legs spread out with metal bars, Asagi knew each and every depravity that was in her view. Asagi knew some time had passed since her brush with electric death, and she had been trapped by Oboro since.

The ninja hung like an ornament herself, utterly nude. Her body showed the signs of Oboro's treatment. Bruises that matched Oboro's knuckles, cuts from her nails, bites on her skin that only slowly healed, and more, all covered Asagi's once-flawless body. There was physical pain, especially when she was forced into some bizarre or grotesque pose for days, but the bodily pain was almost a welcome distraction from her own thoughts and memories. Or rather, from their absence.

Asagi had stared at the table scene for an entire day, knowing that she should know the place being referenced, but the name wasn't there. She could look at a figure of a goddess and know it was Izanami being humiliated, her legs locked around a wolf breeding her, but she couldn't remember why she knew the name.

Her name was Igawa Asagi, and she was a Taimanin, who defended people from monsters. But what did those words mean? She was lost in a fog. Too many things were on the edge of her consciousness, and Asagi, in the depths of her heart, knew she was afraid of something she knew was out there, some formless horror she couldn't articulate. But Oboro couldn't be allowed to know her fear, Asagi knew, and the ninja took the hate she felt for Oboro and used it as a sword to cut through and ignore the doubts she had.

Because the traitor ninja mostly kept Asagi in this bedchamber, she had had plenty of time to learn even the smallest details of the various artistic pieces, because they were the only external mental stimulation she had. Oboro had congratulated her for being able to tell that, in a painted scene of the other Seven Lucky Gods raping Benzaiten furiously on the treasure ship, the artist had used the perfect anatomical details to suggest that the unfortunate goddess had been drowned in cum, and the mad deities were raping her corpse.

Oboro had then proceeded to force Asagi's face into a bucket of cum from some unknown source, over and over again, until Asagi had almost drowned herself, pissing all over the floor while thick slime choked her lungs. Worst of all, though, had been that Asagi had cum herself, a dozen times at least, during that whole ordeal.

There seemed to be no rhyme or reason to Oboro's treatment of Asagi. The ninja had spat in Oboro's face one night, to be "rewarded" by Oboro fingering Asagi's asshole until it was a slimy, gaping mess, and Asagi was breathless from her orgasms. But another day Asagi had met Oboro with what Asagi had thought was a convincing attempt at measured submission, and Oboro had responded with a sadistic rage, bending Asagi's body in horrifying contortions until her back nearly broke.

Her current position was only a few days old, but after Asagi had failed to respond to some inane question Oboro had asked her half a day before, the traitor had hung heavy weights from Asagi's tongue, nipples, and her clitoris. They hung like pendulums, pulling her breasts down and squeezing the top of her pussy with her engorged clitoris. Asagi didn't want to move, because movement made the weights swing, and that hurt more than just them hanging.

The ninja's body was streaked with constantly-dripping sweat, the carpet below her stained with it as well as her piss and juices. Her mouth held open by a ring gag, drool slid down the chain clamped to her tongue in slimy strands that coated the weight before dripping off the bottom in thick droplets. As much as Asagi tried not to, her body continued to betray her mind with its lewd orgasms and obscene reactions to the abuse she was receiving.

What made that even worse was that Asagi was coming to rely on the orgasms. They were real. The memories she didn't have, that taunted her with their ghostly outlines, they suggested something that Asagi couldn't acknowledge. But her orgasms were real, no matter how humiliating they were. And they helped point her to the real signpost of her reality – Oboro.

It was Oboro's hate that kept the ninja from looking behind her, into the abyss she couldn't draw from. When she thought of a name without a face, or a sensation without content, or an emotion without reference, she focused all the more tightly on what she did know, and what she did remember – that Oboro was her enemy, and that as much as Asagi hated Oboro, the bitch hated her, maybe even more. Knowing that Oboro hated her, that she wanted to see Asagi suffer, helped Asagi pin down her own existence. She knew she was real, because why else would Oboro torture her like this if she wasn't?

The hate that Asagi knew was there was what kept her sane. She could stare at these grotesques, cum from the depravity she was surrounded by and subjected to, even enjoy the shameful orgasms, but she knew she could stand above it all, if she kept her hate burning brightly.

Asagi's body shivered as another orgasm hit her, and the weights slowly swung back and forth, the weight enough to tear apart a normal human's flesh. But Asagi was made of sterner stuff, she could remember that much. Whatever Oboro could do to her, Asagi knew her body had felt worse, echoes of pains whose sources were lost to her.

Why didn't she give up? Why didn't she just let herself die? Asagi was confronted by the question every day. Why was she fighting Oboro's torture? A name kept coming back – Sakura. She knew it was her sister. Her sister wasn't a Taimanin, but she could let others know she was missing. There would be a rescue, sometime, if she just held out long enough. She knew it.

The door to the chamber opened, and Asagi's sweat-stained face looked up to the expected figure. Oboro strode into her chamber gracefully, her body barely covered by a blood-red evening dress that made a mockery of the concept of modesty. The shoulder straps began barely above Oboro's stiff nipples, her dark pink areolae plainly visible, and the watery fabric was cut so high on Oboro's leg that when she stepped right, Asagi could see a hint of her pubic hair through the cut. She looked like a queenly courtesan, who could force men to obey her for the opportunity to kiss her feet.

The vile woman wore a smug, satisfied smile as she strode up to Asagi. Taking a chair from the table she set it in front of her captive and sat down in it, crossing her legs. Asagi's eyes looked up and down at Oboro. She hadn't seen the dress before, she knew she hadn't, but it felt weirdly familiar to her. But if she had seen it, when and where? Why couldn't she remember?

Oboro's hand trailed between her cleavage. "Do you like the outfit?" Her fingers pinched at a hem and ran over it. It looked smoother than silk. Oboro took the bottom of her dress and rubbed it at Asagi's face, wiping some of the sweat off. It felt like Asagi was being wiped with soft air, it was so gentle. It was obscene for Oboro to wear something that could be so beautiful.

"It's priceless, you know," Oboro continued. "The material comes from the Dark World itself. Having a handkerchief made of it is the dream of the richest men in this vile world, and a woman having a dress is a luxury beyond the dreams of avarice." Her eyes glinted with her smile. "Every eye was on me, pig. Every eye was staring at me, wanting me, and I could do anything to anyone at that party."

Asagi panted through the gag, her eyes half-lidded. Where was she going with this?

Oboro leaned back. "But you know, I hate greedy men, and greedy women are even worse. Money is so… pathetic. There are so many other currencies to choose from in this world, only a limited imagination would fixate on the flimsiest of them as something to obsess over." Oboro examined her fingers, and Asagi noticed the blood sticking to her nails.

"Violence is a more interesting coin," Oboro pontificated, "it can compel so many fascinating outcomes that money is incapable of. Tonight I made 100 men into murderers of their friend and mentor because I told them that if they didn't, I was going to rip them all in half, one by one, and demonstrated my capability by eviscerating a dumb slut. Scared for their own lives, the cowards ganged up on an old man who couldn't fight back, and beat him to death in front of me, for my own amusement." Oboro looked from her hand to Asagi. "What could never have been gained through bills, I got through blood."

The sheer wantonness of Oboro's bloody desire left Asagi sick to her stomach.

Oboro's smile grew crueler as she circled around to her main point. "Do you want to know why I wore this dress, though? I wanted to celebrate something fun that had happened just before."

A ragged breath escaping her mouth was Asagi's only response.

Her voice was arrogance unequaled. "You should thank me, really. I killed Yamamoto Nobushige today."

Asagi's eyes narrowed at the name. Who was that? Why was Oboro putting an emphasis on him? All she knew was that if Oboro had done it, she had to hate it.

Oboro lied through her teeth about the Yamamoto killing, but the demonic traitor could see from the lack of an honest reaction from the clone in front of her that she had no memory of the man. No pre-conscious twitch of her eye, no movement in the lungs that spoke of a strangled cry of hate at the idea of Oboro killing Asagi's political mentor. It allowed Oboro to play with the clone, and shape her the way she wanted.

"You want to know how you ended up in my hands, don't you?" Oboro asked. "It was his doing. All those years, you trusted him, looked up to him, helped him as much as he helped you! He gave you to me for cash." She let out a theatrical sigh at the false revelation. "You really can't trust anyone to be loyal these days. But you don't need to worry about him anymore. I took his head today because he was stupid and tried to betray me."

Asagi growled, more spit falling off her tongue. Could it be true? There was a vague sense in the back of her mind, a hazy silhouette hanging there. She heard a snippet of a voice, deep and authoritative – "…too much corruption ensures the death of the system..."

Had this man betrayed Asagi to Oboro? A horrible knot formed in Asagi's stomach. With a name and a voice, she began to attach frayed memories to the category. Voices in conversation, hunches, and, slowly but surely, a terrible sense of betrayal. She remembered an eye sizing her for how much her body would be worth, a decision taken a little too quickly to throw Asagi into terrible danger, vows of friendship made too readily and easily to be real.

The ninja groaned involuntarily.

"I know how you must be feeling," Oboro said. "You think that traitors need to die. As much as it pains you to admit it, I did the right thing in murdering that scumbag who gave you to me."

Asagi let out a pained moan.

"It must be hard for you. You were always so serious about loyalty, hypocrite that you are. You think I betrayed the Taimanin, but they betrayed me first." Oboro's voice dripped with contempt and rage. "You pig bitch, wallowing in your lies, knowing that the Taimanin were sacrificing your friends like Shiranui and myself. We were broken for our trust in that filthy group, while you looked down on me for seeing the truth. All of us are steeped in blood, but you called yourself a force for justice."

Oboro stood up and unclipped the weight from Asagi's tongue, and then removed the ring gag. "Thank me for killing the man who betrayed you to me."

Asagi said nothing. She didn't know what to think. The Taimanin… were they really that bad? The Shiranui name gave Asagi another point of reference, another point where she could collate her scattered memories. But instead of something fine and noble, she could only remember callousness. Shiranui had been lost for years after a failed mission, her daughter growing up without her. Had Asagi authorized that mission? Had she thrown Shiranui away for some stupid reason into an unwinnable fight because she was just a pawn? It couldn't be true, but Asagi felt like she couldn't refute the insinuations her mind was drawing.

Oboro grabbed Asagi's chin and forced the ninja to look her in the eye. "Do you hate me?"

Asagi said nothing. She hated Oboro, but she didn't know what answer the monster wanted.

Whatever Oboro wanted, hesitation was not part of it. Growling, Oboro slapped Asagi across the cheek, the crack resounding in the room. The ninja's entire body jerked to the side, the weights pulling on her nipples swaying painfully, making Asagi groan. Going to a large equipment case nearby, Oboro opened it and took out a long whip made of dark, unnatural leather. A swing of her arm and the snap of the whip a few inches from Asagi's face made even her stoic facade shrink back instinctively.

"You should hate me, Asagi. I hate you. Do you believe me when I say that?" Oboro didn't give Asagi a chance to respond. The whip cried out, leaving long red welts on Asagi's skin as Oboro's arm flew out over and over again.

"Nngghh! Gah!" Asagi grunted and shouted in pain. She remembered the training, remembered how to defend herself from pain. But it was still tough. A strike above her womb made her head lean back as she came violently.

Oboro didn't let up her attack. Each crack was joined by a pained response from Asagi. The ninja's body, even through the torture, was still beautiful. Her large breasts, pulled down by the weights on her nipples, swung with painful momentum. Her engorged clit pulsed painfully against the tight clamp on it with every heartbeat. And every whip just made Asagi hurt more, and cum more.

After a half hour of whipping, Asagi's body hardly had a finger-width that didn't have some kind of mark from the whip. Her voice was ragged from the pain and exhaustion. Oboro had thrown off her dress to stand in the nude, and she was wet with excitement from Asagi's pain. Rubbing a thumb on Asagi's cheek to wipe away a tear, Oboro licked the salty liquid off. She saw Asagi's mouth moving, ever so slightly.

"I won't disappear," the clone repeated to herself, over and over again. She probably didn't even know she was doing it. Oboro licked her lips at that. She was getting close. She just needed this thing to get even more desperate, even more hateful. She was so excited to see the explosion.

Dropping the whip carelessly on the chair, Oboro shoved her hand in between Asagi's legs, forcing an obscene moan out of the clone's mouth. Oboro's fingers dove into the clone's wet hole, her thumbnail scratching at the abused clitoris. "Cum for me, you pig!" Oboro hissed. "However much you cum you need to cum more! I want to see your pathetic, disgusting face as your brain melts away!" Asagi's body obliged, squirting juices onto Oboro's hand, the clone's tunnel squeezing on her digits tightly. Then, to top it off, Oboro yanked the clip off Asagi's clitoris.

"Nngghhhhiiiiiii!" the clone squealed like an animal. When her hips finally stopped bucking wildly, Oboro had a strap-on pulled up around her crotch. The cock was purely inhuman in shape and form, a pyramidal tip with a series of sharp ridges leading to the base. Oboro shoved it into Asagi's pussy in one smooth movement, making the ninja gasp and writhe.

"You love it! You love being ruined! You always tried being so above it all, but I know what you're like in your heart of hearts, you pig!" Oboro gloated as she fucked Asagi with the strap on. Their crotches slapped together wetly, the demonic cock forcing its way in and out of Asagi leaving the ninja bewildered and unable to focus.

The harsh tip stabbed at her g-spot as it went into her, and the ridges made the pull out scrape and hook at the inside of Asagi's tunnel, threatening to turn her organ inside out. Asagi had never felt anything like it, and she squirted all over the warm, pliant simulacrum as well as Oboro's crotch.

Taking the whip back from the chair, Oboro ran it around Asagi's throat. Face to face, Oboro breathed in Asagi's feverish panting breath. "Do you know why you live?" she hissed. "You live because I want you to, and for no other reason. I hate you, Asagi. I want you to suffer. And I want you to cum while I do it. You're a pig, and only I see you as you truly are! Now cum, pig!"

Oboro kissed Asagi ruthlessly as she tightened the whip on Asagi's throat. Inch by inch Asagi felt her throat being choked, cumming as she squirmed like a worm.

Asagi's vision darkened, her throat burning, her lungs screaming in pain. At her temples she felt every frantic pulse of her own heartbeat, each one less nourishing to her brain than the last. She wasn't a pig, she told herself. She was a ninja, a fighter for justice.

But as consciousness left her, she orgasmed harder than she ever had before.

*****

Even with a blindfold on, as she had been made to wear for three days now, Asagi could follow the sound of Oboro's footsteps. She followed, her steps shaky, but her back straight. Her hands were free, but she could hear the sound of a weapon on Oboro's waist. It was just a simple sword, and with every step the monster took Asagi could visualize how the sheath was bouncing off her wide hip. She knew Oboro's ass and hips intimately now.

The whole night, Asagi had been made to lick and kiss at Oboro's ass. Her lips, painted purple by Oboro's hand as the torturer had told her, had left mark after mark on Oboro's pale skin, with messy impressions spackled one on top of another around Oboro's wrinkled asshole. The ninja had done it, reluctantly at first and then with more and more energy and eagerness as Oboro had pressed the ball of her foot on top of Asagi's womb and pressed down hard. Between her orgasms, she'd felt something under her lips. Beneath Oboro's muscles, there was something in her, squirming. What was it? Asagi felt like it was something she needed to know, that she should have known already. Was it Oboro's weakness? Asagi's way to murder her and escape?

The pair entered a different room, one that Asagi had not been in before. They were underground, that much was easy enough for her senses to tell her, though Asagi still couldn't piece together where they might be.

Oboro continued in, and Asagi followed, her footsteps padding on smooth metal instead of soft, stained carpet. Asagi sniffed at the air, and a bronze tinge hit her nose.

Blood. Unmistakable in the depth of the aroma that lingered in her lungs, Asagi felt it grow stronger with every step. Dizziness threatened to topple her.

"Stop there, pig," Oboro commanded, and Asagi complied. A chair creaked under Oboro's weight. "Take off the blindfold."

Asagi's hands raised to her face slowly, and slipped the thick material off. The brightness of the room blinded her for a moment, her eyes needing a moment to adjust. Blurry figures began to resolve in front of her.

Oboro sat on a chair, sword across her lap, one finger lazily playing with her lip. On the ground next to her was the corpse of a woman, her long black hair covering her face. She had been a beauty, with strong muscles and smooth curves. Her stomach had been torn open, and she lay in a puddle of her own gore. Something in Asagi's mind came together, and she found herself standing taller, her body ready for more violence. What was this? What was inside her? Who was she?

The body though, felt too familiar. When Asagi looked at the muscles on the back of the shoulder, even limp in death as they were, she knew there was some strange kinship with her own, that if she looked in a mirror, beneath the scars of Oboro's treatment of her, there would be the same muscle there, the same shape.

Asagi's mind whirled. She was becoming terrified of her own self. Who was she? Was she who she thought she was?

"What do you think this is?" Oboro asked, her foot pointing to the corpse.

Asagi found herself staring at the hair-covered face. Somehow, horribly, she knew it was her own face under the long strands. But how?

Through a tight throat, Asagi managed to respond. "A woman-"

"Wrong," Oboro cut her off. "It's nothing ." The way she threw the word at Asagi, the ninja had to fight back a flinch. The hate inside her found something inside her backbone that she hadn't even known was there. It had the same knife-like cruelty as Oboro's smiles. "It failed me. It disappointed me. But I don't even care anymore, because it's gone, but I remain."

Oboro cocked her head to the side. "What about you, Asagi? Do you want to fade away? Disappear into nothing?"

"No." Asagi's voice was colder than she felt. But she wouldn't give Oboro the satisfaction of seeing her fear.

Oboro's smirk fell away and the monster sighed. "How boring. No angry spitting? No hot-blooded talk of what you're going to do to me? That thing bored me too much, do you want to end up like that?"

"What do you want from me?" Asagi hissed, her heartbeat pounding in her ears.

"Oh, no wheedling the answer out of me that easily!" Oboro taunted, shaking her finger at Asagi. "Not yet, at least. I want to see you flail for it."

Asagi grimaced, baring her teeth at Oboro. Her hate for the woman in front of her burned bright, brighter and hotter than the diffuse panels of the antiseptic room.

Seeing it, Oboro let out something of a sigh of relief internally. She had been pushing the clone hard, to the point she wondered if she was going to deform it into a will-less, subservient mess of jelly, totally quenched of spirit. Too boring, that outcome! She wanted the fire in this thing. She could use it.

"Who's your sister?" Oboro asked.

"Sakura-"

"How can you let that name touch your tongue?" The vicious response was like a slap in the face.

"You killed her yourself! Are you going to try and say you don't remember that?"

Oboro's words cut through Asagi's thoughts, leaving her speechless. It wasn't possible. She couldn't have done something like that. She could see her ever-energetic sister, bouncing in her school uniform, waving at her as she left their home.

But there was something else. The smell of blood clogging Asagi's nose made her remember something else. Sakura's face, her glassy eyes staring blindly upwards from the floor of a dingy warehouse, her neck a ragged stump of meat and bone. Where had that come from?

"That's not true!" Asagi bit back.

"I saw you do it, Asagi! I was there." Oboro shook her head. "I couldn't even believe it when it happened. I begged you to let her live."

Asagi's muscles shivered, her hands clenching into tight fists. "No!" But she could hear Oboro's voice in her memory, pleading with her to not do something terrible.

"For all your talk of loyalty, you only cared about yourself. You killed your sister for being raped and giving birth to a dozen little monsters, because of the shame it brought to your clan! But that was just an excuse. You killed her because you wanted to."

"That can't be true!" Asagi screamed. But she felt the memory of a spray of blood on her face. Had it been Sakura's? Did it matter? She had blood on her hands, just as Oboro did. She could feel it coating her skin, the taste of it on her tongue. She heard Sakura's screaming in her mind, and knew in her gut that it was real terror she had heard.

Oboro smiled inside. The clone was lost. It had scattered memories, but no framework for them. All she had to do was provide the story, the clone herself would do the rest, filling in the blanks with memories, editing them together into a new reality. Oboro was excited to see what kind of personality would come out the other end.

Asagi was on a knife edge. She wanted to shriek out that Oboro was lying, but she couldn't force the words out. It attacked too much at the one stable point she'd been able to rely on – Oboro's hate for her. If that wasn't real, if there was nothing there, then Asagi would be left adrift, without anything to moor her sense of self. Paralysis gripped her limbs, her muscles tensing iron-hard under her skin.

Seeing the dueling impulses in the clone's face, Oboro thought that something was close, but it wasn't nearly explosive enough for her tastes. Oboro found herself weirdly invested in the clone now, in a way that surprised her. Comparing this clone to the others, or even the original Asagi, Oboro thought the little differences were telling. The clones tended to be boringly stoic, and the original was much to blame for that. This clone, with as jagged and incomplete a sense of self as she had, was sharp enough to be fun to play with.

"You always did love killing," Oboro continued. "Didn't matter who or what it was. If you think I'm cruel, well… I learned from the best."

Asagi snarled, but she felt the blood on her hands. Staring at Oboro, the rank metal stench of gore filling her head, she could visualize a dozen different ways of attacking her, seated as she was. In Asagi's mind, a pointed kick caved her skull in; Asagi's nails drove into her windpipe; a high sweeping hammer blow drew Oboro's guard up, before Asagi's knee crushed her sternum in like cardboard. Why would she know these techniques if she didn't like fighting?

Her body hovered on the edge of bloodshed, but something held her back. Was it just prudence, knowing her body was weaker than it should have been, and that any attack on Oboro at that moment was doomed to failure? Or was it something worse? Was it mere cowardice? Or did she think that Oboro deserved to torture her?

"And really, you should thank me for all the orgasms I've given you. Being hurt only makes you squeal like the pig you are. I look at you, and I see a ninja who rubbed herself raw, begging to be raped before stabbing your partners for not hurting you enough."

Asagi shook her head violently, her teeth set tightly. She couldn't deny all those orgasms. Hadn't she even liked them, just the smallest amount? The ninja tried to blot out the confusion with hate, but there was something missing, some face she couldn't see and needed to, some disbelief that kept her from believing totally in Oboro's story.

"That's not me…!" Asagi groaned.

Oboro shot up from her chair, knocking it over. "Then who are you?!" she demanded.

Asagi hesitated, a mistake.

"You're nothing ," Oboro stated. Raising her hand over her head, she snapped her fingers, and the floor beneath Asagi and the corpse fell out from under them, dropping them into a dark, wet, warm hole. A moment later, the floor slid back into position, leaving Oboro alone with a bloody stain on the floor.

A sigh fell out of Oboro's mouth. The clone thought she could endure anything Oboro put her through, and thus could muddle about, without committing to anything until something happened. Well, Oboro was going to make sure she knew that things could always, always , get worse.

*****

Asagi knew she was in something alive. The heat, the constant pulsing, the sticky dampness of the air around her, she knew she was in some monstrosity. Had it been made by Oboro? Or Barde Barde? Or had they found it and merely studied it? There were plenty of unanswered questions, but for Asagi, there were far more pressing matters for her attention.

There was barely any light, just bioluminescent nodules that cast a ghostly blue light in the chamber, giving Asagi enough to see the horror in front of her. The corpse, already three-quarters submerged in the thick muck that submerged Asagi's calves, was slowly being pulled head-first into some orifice. Asagi watched it happen, the knife-like core in her telling her it was useless. Best to ignore it. So she did, as best she could.

Instead of contemplating what could happen to her, the ninja pressed her palms against the twitching, quivering walls of flesh and muscles, trying to find a way out. But the cramped chamber had no way out that Asagi could find, except for the one occupied by the legs being slurped down and the mouth Asagi had come in from above that she couldn't see anymore.

Pushing her hand against a slimy surface, something moved under her feet, and Asagi dropped deeper into the cloudy liquid with a splash. "Ngah!" she cried out, panic beginning to break through her mental dam. "Come on, come on!" she growled, trying without success to pull herself out of the gaps in the muscle below her, now squeezed tight on her legs.

Tentacles slipped around her arms before she even knew they were there. "What the-! No! Fuck you!" With a surge of strength from somewhere, she wrenched one arm down, tearing the tentacle out of the chamber wall in a spray of blood and cloudy slime that Asagi knew was some horrible cocktail of semen and who knew what else. Grabbing the tentacle on her other arm with both, Asagi heaved on the other, thicker tentacle. Asagi's muscles bulged as she fought the well-developed tentacle, and she could feel it start to stretch and tear. If she had had a moment or two more, she could have torn that one out as well.

But before she could, a tentacle thicker than her wrist shoved its way up between her legs and into her pussy. The sensation knocked all concentration out of Asagi, leaving her gasping with a heavy "Nguh!" knocked out of her chest. In the instant of her loosening, her arm was pulled violently by the still-struggling tentacle, the motion so strong that it almost pulled Asagi's shoulder out of its socket. "Aggghh!" Asagi shouted in pain, gritting her teeth.

The tentacle in her pussy started thrusting, pushing in and out of the ninja's tunnel. It was too big, though, and could only move fractions of an inch inside Asagi at a time. Each squirming movement, each rotation, made Asagi groan and gasp in discomfort. She reached down with her free hand, grasping the stiff, rough flesh of the tentacle, trying to keep it from going deeper into her. "Nnooo!" she shouted to no one.

Her breathing growing ragged, her grip tightened on the tentacle, her nails digging in and drawing inhuman blood from the thing that slid over Asagi's fingers in warm rivers. But as much as she tried to wrench it out of her, the thing kept worming bit by bit up Asagi's tunnel. The tip, a pointed triangle, stabbed against the walls of her tunnel as it pushed and whirled.

A wild stab hit against Asagi's g-spot, and Asagi had another moment of weakness, her hand letting go as she orgasmed painfully. The pussy-tentacle took the moment of freedom to slide down as far as it could, and then shoving back up in one movement, forcing open the rest of Asagi's pussy in a way that left Asagi breathless in pain and pleasure. Her mind reeled at the sensation. No regular human could survive this kind of invasion, she knew, but she wasn't only surviving it, she was getting off on it.

More tentacles slid out of the walls to deal with the feisty prey. Asagi bit clean through the first tentacle to try and slide into her mouth, the resulting spray of blood and semen filling her mouth with salty bitterness before she spat out the tip. The second and third wrapped around her neck and choked her while a fourth, covered in hard scales, finally got into Asagi's mouth and began fucking her throat.

There was too much for Asagi to deal with at once. She tried to pull at the tentacles choking her, but then the giant worm between her legs was free to batter her cervix. She tried to stop that tentacle, but then the tentacle in her mouth went deeper into her throat, moving so violently that it almost tore her jaw and throat apart from the inside.

Then another tentacle stabbed into her asshole. Asagi could only let out a muffled shriek through the tentacle between her lips, tears sliding down her cheeks. Her body could only react to the overwhelming stimuli, and she came over and over again, her body squeezing down on the monster's invading limbs.

Asagi's mind couldn't handle everything that was being thrown at her. Her eyes rolled back, and her body went limp under the triple assault by the monstrosity around her.

When her consciousness was covered by darkness, it was a blessing to the abused ninja.

In that darkness, the ninja's thoughts jumbled together again. She thought she'd been able to keep her mind on something stable by hating Oboro. But it wasn't enough. There was something missing. Oboro had sensed it, and Asagi knew it too. She wasn't who she thought she was. But who was she? Did she want to know?

Asagi awoke, not knowing how long she'd been out, but knowing that she'd been raped relentlessly even while unconscious. Laying in a heap on the floor of the organic sac she was in, submerged in filth, she could feel it in the bone-deep ache that filled her crotch, and how her throat burned with every meager breath that passed through to her desperate lungs. She could feel it in the thick liquid she knew filled her womb, her bowels, her stomach, even her nostrils. It coated her tongue in saltiness, and she spat out what she could, even that motion hurting her.

A movement in the corner of her eye caught Asagi's attention, and she slowly moved her gaze up to look at the drooling tentacle hanging in the air above her. The shape at the end, a horrendous bulbous shape like a closed tulip, covered in wretched little knobs of flesh, made Asagi physically sick and aroused at the same time. Had that thing raped her last? She couldn't tell, only knowing that it had been left gaping by the monstrous attack.

Why wasn't it with others? Wasn't the monster around her a single organism?

As Asagi watched, another tentacle slid out, this one with a deadly, sharp needle at the end. Her breathing stopped as it came down from a fold in the muscles, above the other. A tiny droplet fell out of the tip, sizzling in the air. She expected it to fall down on her and pierce her ear, filling her with some poison that would melt her brain and leave her a drooling, twitching body to be used and then devoured when finished with. But it didn't happen. Instead, the tentacle stabbed at the other one. The attacked tentacle froze and then began to spasm wildly, as the other tentacle pulsed, slurping something from its victim. It only took a minute, and the other tentacle was so drained it was totally limp, only held up by its devourer.

Mesmerized, Asagi watched the dead tentacle fall off the needle tip, and that tentacle slide back into the walls. It changed her whole perception of this thing she was in. She wasn't in a single monster, she was in an ecosystem. In a way, she felt a kinship with the monster. Both were violent, bloody battlegrounds that weren't at peace with themselves.

But the sight also made Asagi's stomach growl. She reached out, took the mostly-empty husk of the tentacle thing, and began tearing at it with her teeth. She ate the thing with a feverish, half-excited energy. She wasn't going to die here. She wouldn't allow it. She could lay there, never fight back, and let something like that needle melt her from the inside. But she wouldn't do it. She was going to fight, tooth and nail, to live. If she had to fight like an animal, she would.

The different tentacles sensed her motion, and came back out. Asagi fought again, only to have her holes again raped. Asagi bit, she tore, she did everything she could to maim and shred the things raping her. Monstrous blood, blue, green, red, spurted over the ninja, mixing with the semen coating her skin. Asagi kept fighting, even as the tentacles fucked her. Even as they grew inside her, expanding so much that she thought even her tough body was going to explode, she fought. She orgasmed while she fought, but she still fought.

Asagi felt the familiar darkness begin to creep up on her, but before she passed out, one of the tentacles sent a powerful electric shock through her. Asagi's orgasm was violent and swift, squirting as the current passed through her. It reminded her of her first firm memories, of being strapped to a table and shocked by Oboro and Barde. Her muscles spasmed, and she cried out as her hips wildly thrust back and forth.

It made her think of the glint in Oboro's eyes when she'd said she wanted Asagi's hate.

She was awake when the tentacles came that time. Each of them, engorged from the inside, began to pump gallons of liquid into her through each and every hole. Already filled as she was, there was no way her body could contain it all. The powerful sprays overflowed in her, with cum spurting out of her in frothy jets through the seals her holes made around the tentacles.

The tentacle in her mouth pulled out, spraying more over Asagi's face, but the ninja couldn't close her mouth. She could feel the flow from the one in her bowels moving up through her body. "Ggghhhllkkkaaahhh!" Asagi noised as the jizz boiled up through her throat and then filled her mouth, spraying out like a fountain of cum from her lips and nose. The filthy liquid spurted up, coating Asagi's face in a thick, viscous layer of cum.

Asagi survived, though. She survived the next rape, and the next one, and the one after that, no matter what happened to her. She had inhuman sizes forced into her holes, her nipples penetrated and her breasts filled with aphrodisiac that made her cum from almost everything. Asagi fought the monster, but she began to love the orgasms she was getting, no matter how painful they were. They just made her cum even harder. The more she fought the monsters, the more they hurt her, and the more she came.

In such an environment, Asagi's mind began to deteriorate. She just couldn't think, she had to focus on surviving and cumming as much as she could and fighting and eating chunks of tentacle flesh and drinking semen. But even as close as she came to falling into a totally animal state, she could focus on a few things.

She knew Oboro hated her, and she hated Oboro. This was the guiding light of her mind, the only thing that kept her from losing everything in her mind and going completely feral.

But why?

Asagi hadn't been able to piece it together, but she figured it out, in that dark, wet stomach.

Asagi herself was a monster.

She orgasmed when she tasted blood. She orgasmed when she was struck by vine-thick tentacles strong enough to bend iron. She orgasmed when she thought about having Sakura's blood on her face. She came when her cum-swollen belly was squeezed tightly by a tentacle, making the cum flood out of her mouth and asshole. Asagi orgasmed, knowing that if this torture kept going, she was going to lose her mind somehow – either through blowing her brain out with orgasms, or becoming a mindless blood-drinker.

She came when she thought about tearing Oboro apart in revenge for showing her the truth. She came when she thought about Oboro's beating heart in her hands.

She came when she thought about Oboro.

*****

Barde Barde placed the clipboard of readouts he'd been perusing onto his desk and stared at Oboro, who looked as smug as ever back at him. Days had passed since Oboro had consigned the clone to The Maw, and according to the instruments that could penetrate that thing's depths, she was still alive.

"You knew the clone was going to last this long? How? None of the previous subjects, even the clones, survived so much time in that monster." Barde's voice was controlled, but he was still surprised at the chances this demonic bitch in front of him was willing to take.

"Knew?" Oboro's voice was as smug as her expression. "I didn't 'know' anything. I 'suspected' plenty, though. Really, Herr Doktor, you're misunderstanding me completely."

Barde's eyebrow rose up. "Oh?"

"Of course! You think I know what's going to happen because I've planned out everything I'm going to do with the clone. But that's inflexible thinking. I got that drilled out of me when I died the first time." Oboro threw out the reference to her death like it was the high school she went to.

"And so instead you…?"

Oboro chuckled. "Find opportunities and exploit them! If they work, wonderful. If they don't, then you find another avenue of attack. My goal for this was to see if I could get something fun from her."

Barde's frown deepened the creases on his face. "A dangerous experiment you're running. Too many explosive variables for my taste."

Oboro's laugh showed what she thought of his scientific caution. "You may be a maestro of magical theory, Herr Doktor, and maybe you know more about Asagi's physiology than me now," Oboro's eyes shone darkly, "but I know her , even like this. You just need to know the right buttons to push."

*****

The Asagi that was pulled out of The Maw was a vision of human wreckage. Not a spot wasn't drenched in inhuman semen. Through the cloudy mess, evidence of bruises and cuts and a thousand other injuries could be seen. Sprawled on the ground in front of Oboro, Asagi's limbs splayed loosely, without any strength in them. Little bubbles appeared in the slime, the only indication that Asagi was still alive. Only a Taimanin could have survived as long as she had in that pit.

Asagi reeled at the rescue. She could hardly remember that there was an existence outside of that flesh pit. Was she alive? Was this real? Or had she finally lost her mind entirely?

Oboro, totally nude herself, bent down and wiped cum from the clone's eyes. Vision, though, was almost absent from Asagi's eyes, though. For a moment, Oboro wondered if she had made a mistake, and should have pulled the clone out a day earlier. But when Oboro took the sword from behind her, she noted that Asagi's eyes shifted to look at the glint of metal.

"You bored me before. That's why I put you in there. Do you want to bore me again?" Oboro asked.

The voice brought Asagi back to the world. She remembered the voice. She remembered Oboro. Oboro was the only thing she could remember. The threat of going back into that place, that place that almost killed her, hurt Asagi more than any of the physical pains she felt.

The clone's head shook a tiny amount. "No…" a weak, desperate voice came out of her lips.

"Did you know the sky is red?" Oboro started.

"Yes…" croaked Asagi.

"Humans are little ants, too weak to protect themselves," Oboro threw out. "Do you agree?"

"Yes…!" Asagi begged.

"You're a killer, Asagi," Oboro said, her voice losing its interest bit by bit.

"Killer!" Asagi agreed. Semen-filled tears poured out of her eyes.

"You killed your own sister. You killed your best friend. You killed the love of your life because I took him from you." The clone was disappointing her. Maybe the idea she'd had had been too much for this pathetic thing?

Oboro stood up from the clone with a sigh. The weeping wasn't what she wanted. She didn't want gratitude. As cute as it would be to have an Asagi who fawned on her, told her everything she wanted to hear, ate her out every night and thanked her for the opportunity, that would get old quickly.

"Boring." Oboro's judgment landed like a gravestone. She turned, beginning to walk toward the door.

The clone felt a tentacle brush at her feet. No. She wasn't going to die. She wasn't going to disappear. She hated Oboro too much for that. The clone took every little bit of energy she had left, and exploded off the floor. Oboro barely turned before Asagi had the sword in her hand, a wordless, thoughtless shout of rage and hate in her. "Hyaaaahhhh!" The clone orgasmed when she saw Oboro's face of surprise as her sword was driven into her chest from the side, piercing both lungs and her heart.

Blood sprayed everywhere as Asagi landed heavily on Oboro's dying body. Asagi lashed out with the sword, stabbing it over and over again into Oboro, cumming every time she felt the bite of the blade on her enemy's flesh. The ecstasy flowing through her veins made Asagi shriek with wild laughter. Blood spurted out to splash on her face, and her own orgasms squirted onto Oboro's shredded torso.

Asagi almost didn't know what had happened. She only knew that she wasn't going back in. "I hate you!" she squealed. "I hate you! I'm free! I hate you! I hate you! I'm free!" she cackled like a monstrous hag. When she looked at the face of the corpse, she saw her own face, and she laughed more. "No more! I hate you! I hate you! I'm real! I'm real!" She kept stabbing until the sword snapped in half from driving into the ground too hard.

The bloody woman looked at the shredded body, and suddenly felt weightless. "I'm… real?" she muttered to herself.

The blood-soaked monster stood up from the corpse, snapped sword in hand, and took a few shaky steps. She couldn't even see the room around her. There was nothing. Nothing left.

Who was she? She couldn't tell anymore. She hated Oboro, but Oboro was dead now. She was supposed to be happy, but she couldn't feel anything anymore.

Without Oboro, who was she?

She was nothing.

Was there even life without Oboro's hate? It couldn't exist.

The nameless, weightless, contentless thing felt the cold metal blade on her skin before she even realized she'd put the sword to her own neck. That was the only sensation she could feel, and she knew when the blade cut through, she'd cum one last time. Her eyes shot open when she felt a hand stop her own, and she whirled around to see Oboro, alive.

Oboro's body had knit itself back together quickly enough, her tumorous flesh reconstituting her usual form. The demon had actually been surprised at the vehemence of the clone's attack, even though she'd expected something violent.

"You don't get to escape my hate so easily, Asagi," Oboro growled, taking the sword and tossing it aside. "That was a good start, but I want to see more violence from you!"

Asagi's face was one of open joy. If Oboro was alive, everything was alright. She wouldn't disappear now.

*****

The hate Asagi felt for Oboro was indistinguishable from love. It was obsessive, it was total, it was everything Asagi thought about, and all she wanted was Oboro's hate back. Asagi needed her hate, so that she'd always know she was there. When Oboro had told her that they were going to prepare Asagi for killing again, Asagi had fairly squirted where she stood.

She trained with Oboro daily now. Her new prosthetic legs, with their ultra-sharp blades hidden inside, needed some getting used to. But Asagi had already sliced apart an entire tactical police team by herself. Oboro had rewarded her with a night with the double-ended dildo, leaving both monsters cumming.

But the most wonderful thing of all for Asagi had been Oboro's kisses. They hurt her lips, especially when Oboro bit down hard enough to draw blood. But it was what Asagi wanted. The twisted clone would drown the whole world in blood to hear Oboro say those wonderful words over and over again:

"I hate you, Asagi!"