Ohaguro Bettari

It was late in the evening as you were finally pulling up to your place, the sun was setting in the distance, lighting up the sky in orange light. You nearly stumbled out of your car, the sheer exhaustion from working overtime turning your brain to little more than static. What had happened was that your boss had caught you showing off a few of your souvenirs from your recent trip to Japan to a few of your coworkers. Needless to say, the joyless bastard had not seen this as anything other than a waste of company time and got you to work mandatory overtime as punishment. At least, there would be a small pay bonus from it. So hey, silver linings and all that.

Even with the long hours, though, you still had fond memories from your trip. After saving for a long couple of years, you were finally able to afford a two-week long stay there and it had been well worth both the cost and the long, draining plane rides to and back. You spent the trip visiting places all over, and not just the usual tourist places like the Pokémon Center or Tokyo tower, but a few more spiritually cultural places as well. There had been this one temple there that had been absolutely gorgeous to look at during the twilight. And right now, coming home as tired as you were, your house was looking almost as gorgeous, though that was probably the exhaustion talking.

You opened the door with a small yawn and hung your coat up on the rack, only to perk up a little as a delicious smell drifted in from the kitchen. A small smile broke across your face as you followed the smell to its source. Entering the kitchen, you saw the dinner table laid out with a bowl and a spoon resting before your seat. The bowl, however, was empty. Dinner must not have been ready yet then. At the stove was your wife, her back facing you as she hovered over a large pot, stirring its contents with a wooden spoon. She humming as she cooked, some tune you vaguely recalled hearing while in Japan.

"Hey, dinner smells great, babe," you said, walking a bit closer to her. Your wife didn't answer, she just kept humming that little tune and hovering over the steaming pot. "Silent treatment, huh?" You smirked a little. "Is this because I got forced to work late?" Your wife only giggled, and went back to humming. You rolled your eyes, still smirking. "Alright, what do I have to do to make it up to you?" Without turning to face you, your wife held her hand out and beckoned you closer with a finger, the act causing her kimono to slip a little, exposing a pale shoulder.

You started to walk a bit closer to her… only to stop as something nagged at the back of your mind. Kimono… Hmm, you… you don't remember buying one for her while you were in Japan. Did she buy it for herself? That must've been it... except, that didn't sound right either…

You paused, feeling some inexplicable sense of dread creep up your spine. Something… something wasn't making sense. A part of you wanted to dismiss it, to wave it away as nothing more than a bit of brain fog from the long day, but it kept nagging at you. Something in the back of your mind was warning you that something wasn't right here. You tried your hardest to remember past that static that hung over your mind like a shroud. As you thought more about where she might have gotten the robe, other holes began to appear in your memory. How long have you been married? A few years? A month? Where did the wedding take place? Who was your best man? Who had been the maid of honor? Where did you meet your wife? Immediately, you thought of the temple back in Japan, but that couldn't be right, could it? You had only been there for two weeks… and you had come alone, didn't you?

What was happening? Why couldn't you remember?

Your legs felt weak, you lost balance and had to steady yourself against the table as your mind scrambled to make sense of itself. All the while your wife continued to hum in the background. Yes… yes, you had come back alone… and you had gone alone, didn't you? You pressed your left hand to your forehead, cold sweat gathering on your brow as you struggled to get your thoughts and memories together. Except, when you pressed your hand against your brow… there was only clammy flesh. The cool touch of a golden band that should have been there was completely absent. You lowered your shaking left hand before your face, staring with steadily mounting dread at your bare ring finger, not a wedding band in sight…

Because there had never been a wedding. There was no wedding ring on your finger. There were no wedding pictures hanging on the walls or stored on your phone or computer. There was no white gown wrapped in plastic hanging in your closet. You… you weren't married. You had never been married! For god's sakes, the last date you had been on was a month before your trip and what a bore that had been! You lived alone, completely and utterly by yourself.

So just who the hell was that in the room with you?

Your slowly turned your head, your gaze falling on the mysterious woman standing in your kitchen. She paid you no mind, only continuing to stir the pot in front of her, still humming that same tune. You licked your lips nervously and opened your mouth to speak. "W-who," you paused, mentally cursing how weak your stuttering voice sounded. "Who are you?" The woman said nothing. Slowly, she stopped stirring and took her hand away from the spoon, setting both her hands down on the counter in front of her. "How did you get in my house?" Again, the woman remained absolutely quiet, no longer humming. She didn't even bother to face you. "Answer me!" You demanded, raising your voice to a frustrated yell.

The woman didn't even flinch. She just continued to stand there with her back facing you in dead silence. Gathering your nerves as best you could, you strode forward and reached out to her with one shaking hand. "Answer me!" You took her roughly by the shoulder, forcing her to turn around to face you. "Answer me!" The woman at last turned around and- JESUS CHRIST!

"Aaaghh!" You fell back with a maddened scream as you came face to face with the mystery woman. The woman's skin was chalk-white like that of a corpse. Her long, shining dark hair was loosely tied up in a bun, but long, chaotic tresses framed her face. Except, to call it a face would be lying, a full face that is. Her eyes… she didn't have any eyes. Where eyes should have been, there was only more skin, stretched taught over what could only have been completely empty sockets. The woman(?)'s mouth stretched into a wide and twisted grin as you collapsed into the table before crashing to the floor. She let out a hideous cackle at the sight, a loud and nightmarish sound that followed you even as you booked it out the front door of your house.

You ran in a complete panic, no destination in your mind, just anywhere away from that thing. You ran and ran, the woman-thing's hideous cackle still ringing in your ears. You ran until at last, your body just couldn't run anymore. Your lungs were burning, and your legs were screaming in protest as your exhausted feet tripped on each other. You were sent crashing to the ground, just barely managing to throw your arms in front of your face. There wasn't any need to however, as your face was met with the cool, springy grass. For the longest time, you just lay there in terror-fueled exhaustion, breathing heavily as your aching lungs were finally given a break. After taking several minutes to get your breath back, you weakly pushed yourself up against a nearby tree, hand over your heart as its rapid pace steadily slowed down. Taking a moment to gauge your surroundings, you realized that you had run all the way to the park several blocks away from your place.

Your head fell back, resting against the tree. You tried closing your eyes, only for them to shoot open as that black-toothed grin swam before them in your mind. Fuck…fuck, what the hell was that thing? It didn't appear to have followed you, was it still in your house? Your eyes widened in renewed horror at the thought. You scrambled to find your phone… only to grasp empty pockets. Your heart dropped to your stomach. Shit! Your phone… you didn't have it! It was still in your coat, on your coat rack… in your house! You weakly whimpered as you tried to think of something else. The police station was on the other side of town and so were most of your friends' places, so it wasn't like you could just walk there. And if you tried knocking on someone's door at this hour, it was more likely they'd call the cops on you. No, there was only one thing for it.

You had to go back.

-

By the time you had made the walk back to your house, the sun had long set. It was nearly pitch-black outside, the sidewalk only dimply lit by the street lamps. Your house no longer looked as beautiful as it did during the sunset, the heavy and oppressive shadows of the night gave it an almost bestial appearance as you forced yourself closer towards it. You had expected the door to be left wide open, having not taken the time to close it during your panicked flight way from the kitchen. That was not the case, however, and the door in front of you was firmly shut. Unfortunately, this did nothing to ease your nerves, as now you had the muster up the courage to actually open that door. With a shaking hand, you reached out and turned the knob, hoping, praying that it was locked, any excuse to walk away right now.

No dice.

The knob turned and you slowly opened the door, with not even the tiniest creek to break the overwhelming quiet. Your home was deathly still and as silent as the grave. A part of you was relieved to not hear that humming, but that just put the rest of you on edge, wondering whether or not that woman-thing was still there. You cautiously and methodically checked every room in your house, turning the light on each time before entering. It was painstaking, nerve wracking work, with you convinced that you might see a flutter of a kimono slipping behind a doorway, or that from ant closet that ghastly eyeless face might pop out with another cackle.

Thankfully, nothing of the sort happened and soon you had finished your search. There was no denying it, that woman – whatever she had been – was nowhere to be found. A part of you was relieved that your home was free from her and her cackle, but another part of you was dreading the idea that she might come back. You grabbed your phone and started to call the police... only to stop as you thought it over. What were you supposed to tell them, that an eyeless woman somehow tricked you into thinking she was your wife and chased you out of your house? They'd never believe you, and even if you lied and said it was just a break-in, nothing had been stolen and she was nowhere in sight. It'd just be a waste of time.

You dropped your phone on the table as you walked back into the kitchen, laptop tucked under arm. The stove was off and baren and the pot the woman had been stirring was sitting on dish drainer completely spotless. It was as if she had never been there at all. Opening your laptop, you immediately looked up 'Eyeless woman with black teeth' for any clues as to what that woman-thing had been. The answers you got were… interesting, to say the least. After a brief blurb about how Japanese brides historically dyed their teeth black before their wedding, you found a page about something called the "Ohaguro Bettari". The Ohaguro Bettari was a yokai, a Japanese demon, one that took the appearance of a young woman. They would sneak into temples or the homes of young men and enchant the men into thinking that the Ohaguro was their wife. Though thankfully not malicious, they were apparently just dicks who found it funny to trick people into making asses out of themselves. As soon as the man realized what the Ohaguro really was, the yokai would let out a cackle and run off.

Great, so you weren't being haunted, you just got punked instead. You buried your head in your hands, just what the hell were you supposed to do now? The only answer you received was a pang of hunger from your stomach. You sighed, unless there was a severed head in your fridge, at least could get a snack without getting the shit scared out of you. You opened the fridge and…

You froze. Well, at least it's not a head, you thought somewhat dryly. Sitting in the middle of your refrigerator was a container of soup that you knew for certain hadn't been there when you left for work that morning. How did you know this? There was a small handwritten sticky-note on top of the lid. You took the note (but not the soup) out and gave it a glance. Written in neat, miniscule black ink was a very simple message.

'Thanks for the laugh, 'hubby'. See you tomorrow night~'

There was a small smiley face doodled in the corner of the note – a smiley face with black teeth.

…

…You crushed the note in your hand. Accepting that, no, you weren't actually in danger had removed most of your fear for this thing. In its place, however, was a vitriolic annoyance. Not only had a yokai – a supernatural being! – decided to follow you home from Japan, but it apparently got so much a laugh out of scaring you shitless that it wanted to do it again the next night. You would not stand for this! You refused to let a spirit bully you and make a fool out of you in your own home!

"This means war." You firmly declared, tossing the note in the trash. You started to head to bed… only for your stomach to rumble. Right, you were still hungry.

… Wonder if that soup was any good or not?

-

As it turned out, the soup had not only been good, but – as you reluctantly acknowledged – was actually quite delicious. Still, a delicious soup ultimately did very little to undo the irritation and embarrassment that came from being made a fool of. That thought carried you throughout the day, even as you diligently did your work, and followed you all the way back during the drive home. Even though, just exactly what you had been angry about was becoming more and more difficult to remember.

It must have been important if it had managed to get you so damn angry, but then why were you having such a hard time remembering it? You sighed and stepped out of the car, walking up the driveway to your door. Maybe your wife could help you remember what it was…

…You paused, hand hovering just above the doorknob. Something… something about that last thought, you felt as though there was something wrong with it. Something that just shouldn't be there, or was just a hint off. Like if you walked into your living room and found your chair was just a few inches to the left than it had been previously. Something small, almost unnoticeable but still obviously wrong. Something to do with… your wife?

You frowned, confusion deepening.

Your fiancé?

And then… understanding.

Your… your nothing, damnit!

Anger came back with a vengeance as the memories of the previous night were flooding back in. The Ohaguro Bettari! She nearly got you again! That bitch! You growled in frustration, realizing that you had very nearly been made a fool of by the yokai. Seizing the doorknob and twisting it, you practically threw the door open. This ends now!

You crept into your home as quietly as you could, wary of any potential yokai lying in wait within. True enough, as soon as the door closed, you were hit once more with the delicious smell of a home cooked meal. Rather than a welcoming surprise as it had been the previous night, you now knew that this was a trap meant to lower your guard as silently made your way into the kitchen. There, just as she had been the previous night, the Ohaguro was standing over your stove, humming to herself as she busied herself with cooking. This time, there was mistaking the air of self-assured smugness emanating from her as she hummed, no doubt anxiously waiting to jumpscare you for the second time.

Well, this time you weren't going to fall for it. Without giving anything away, you slowly began creeping forward, intent on just throwing the yokai out on her ass and locking the door behind you. If that didn't work…. Well, then to be honest you were just kind of fucked. Hopefully, she would just find someone else to bother and leave you be.

As you snuck up on the seemingly oblivious yokai, however, your eyes trailed over to her, her curvy form just visible beneath the plain kimono she draped herself in. You had to admit, for an eyeless demon, she was gorgeous. She kind of had everything, wide flaring hips, full heavy breasts, and the like. The only issue was her face, but even then, the more you looked at it, the more appealing it became. Lewd thoughts ran through your mind as you watched the curvaceous yokai's kimono-clad bottom sway left and right as she cooked. It was almost as if she was dancing as she worked, causing your reservations to grow weaker and weaker in the face of that heart-shaped butt bobbing left and right.

Your cock was far from uncertain, your hard shaft pulsed with need at the thought of bending the busty demon over and fucking her ragged, potential consequences be damned. You were seriously considering taking the risk if it meant you got to tap that fat ghostly ass.

You stared for a moment, working the idea over in his head as he considered the options before him. Slowly, your plan started to change as you followed the hypnotic sway of her hips. Why just throw her out in the street, when you can give her a taste of her own medicine instead? It was a simple choice in the end. One made all the easier when she bent over to retrieve something from the oven — her gloriously plump butt pushing out as she seemed to tease you accidentally.

That did it.

Deciding to fight fire with fire, you slowly and cautiously approached the Ohaguro. Despite your best efforts to remain undetected, she must have realized that you were behind her. You saw the corner of her mouth twitch with eager amusement as she got ready to spin around and jumpscare you once more. You never gave her the chance, though. Just as the yokai was starting to turn around, you did the first thing that came to mind.

You slapped her ass.

Your hand cracked into her perfectly formed backside with a stinging report, causing her to jump in surprise and shock. Before she could react further, you wrapped your arms around her, pulling to yokai flat against you. "Surprise, 'honey'!" You said, enjoying the look of realization that crossed the yokai's vacant face. "That's right, I know what you are now." Your hands ran up and down her sides, the tips of your fingers dancing over her kimono. Even without eyes, the yokai's face conveyed its nervousness and uncertainty. Clearly, it had never expected for you to get the jump on it.

"That was a pretty mean thing you did last night," you muttered, your lips brushing against her ear. The Ohaguro squirmed in your arms, but apparently was no more stronger than a regular woman her size. "It was naughty…" you hissed, and the yokai gasped as your hands trailed further up her slim stomach. Her face was turning red, made all the more obvious by just how pale her skin was. Your face was getting pretty red too, a part of your mind screaming at you for playing a game of grab-ass with a Japanese spirit of all things.

Pride won out though, fueled by your frustration that the yokai hadn't thrown in the towel yet. She bucked and writhed in your arms, but there was little heat behind her actions and the only thing they really managed to accomplice was grinding her fat ass into your crotch. Time to turn up the heat. The yokai stilled as the back of your hand brushed against her pale, bare breasts. Apparently, bras weren't a thing among yokai. "You want to pretend to be my wife so bad, then you can act like it," you hissed, as your hand went further and pinched one of her perky nipples. The Ohaguro whimpered, but still did not try and run. Your frowned, why wasn't she leaving? "Are you actually enjoying this?" You demanded, practically growling into her ear as you fondled her heavy tits.

After a brief moment of silence, the Ohaguro slowly pushed her ass back into you and gave it a small, deliberate shake against your throbbing bulge.

It was your undoing.

"You-" You choked on air, the feel of her catching your cock between her fat cheeks too much for you. Right," you hissed, removing your fingers from her and flying to your zipper. "You asked for it." Spinning her around, you got a brief glimpse of the state the Ohaguro was in; her bun partially undone, her face blushing red, and her kimono falling off of her shoulders, exposing the tops of her large breasts. You took a moment to appreciate the sight before crudely forcing the yokai to her knees, her face pressed against your crotch.

She got the idea very quickly; her shaking hands reaching forward to undo your belt and tug your pants and boxers down. The yokai gasped as your throbbing cock was exposed, its shadow covering her eyeless face. Hesitantly, she wrapped her cool hands around it, stroking the shaft experimentally. Slowly gaining confidence, the Ohaguro pressed her black lips to your cock, giving soft, submissive kisses across its length until she reached the tip. The sight of your cock laying across her face, so close to those pitch-black teeth, should not be exciting as you find it.

You let out a hiss of pleasure as the yokai opens wide and takes you into her mouth. Inch after inch disappears past her black lips, and she gags slightly as the cockhead hits the back of her throat. It wasn't enough, though, not for you. You grab her by her bun, your grip more desperate than domineering, and start dragging her deeper down your cock. She lets out some alarmed noise as you begin desperately fucking her face. In a bit of desperation, she rips the top of her kimono further down her body, exposing her huge, pale tits as they bounced wildly from your vicious facefucking. She wrapped her busty breasts around your cock, pumping them up and down with wild abandon, relentlessly trying to get you to cum down her throat.

"Gaghk! Gaghk! Gaghk!"

The yokai choked and gaged on your cock as you relentlessly fucked her face, her heavy tits squeezed tightly around you. The sight of her dark lips wrapped around your cock, the sound of her gagging and moaning around it, the feeling of her fat tits… it was all too much. With a groan, you tugged on the yokai's hair, pulling her down to the base. She barely had the time to let out a shocked yelp before you were cumming, gagging as she was forced to swallow mouthful after mouthful of your cum until you were finished. When you finally pulled out, she gasped, a thin string of saliva connecting her lips to your wet, still-hard cock.

The sight of the Ohaguro on her knees, her hair completely undone, cum dripping from the corners of her mouth to her massive, pale breasts set you off again. You picked her up in a bridal carry, the yokai barely managing to fling her around your shoulders before you were moving. You carried her to the bedroom, the oven clicking off on its own behind you, presumably due to some yokai magic or some such. It didn't matter, you were too horny to care as you kicked the door to your bedroom open. You unceremoniously tore off her kimono before dropping the yokai onto the bed. The Ohaguro rolled over onto her back, thick thighs spreading apart immediately.

You gave the yokai little time to recover as your advanced on the bed, seizing her by her slender legs. The Ohaguro let out a small yelp as you lifted her legs up and over your shoulders, partially folding her body as you brought your cock to her soaking cunt. The yokai let out a sharp gasp as you pressed your cockhead against her lips, one that turned into a wailing moan as you forced inch after inch of your cock into her pale pussy. Her legs kicked up immediately as the thrashing yokai was given exactly what she wanted, and she didn't care about holding back the raw bliss coursing through her veins as she allowed you to have your way with her.

"T-This is what you've wanted all along, isn't it~?!" You grunted loudly, your hips pistoning as hard as you could into her wobbly body. Her body thrashed underneath you as the thrusts immediately bore down upon her. "Scaring me, leaving that note. You were just begging for someone to throw you on their bed and make you their bitch, weren't you!?"

The only answer you got from the yokai was her loud, shameless moans, as good as confirming your suspicions. What a slut. Folding the Ohaguro into a powerful press is allowing you to do anything you want to her, and you're making good on that potential with every heave, every thrust, every overmighty shove of your dick into her ever-accommodating, delightfully massaging, wonderfully warm pussy. Your increasingly aggressive approach to rawing her forces her legs higher and higher, until they're nearly parallel to the stone that she's being fucked into, and her feet are approaching her bouncing tresses, so wholly are you flattening her completely beneath you.

You plow into the Ohaguro balls-deep every time, drilling your dick inside and dragging all around her inner walls, tickling and teasing her with powerful, rubbing friction, marveling at how every drawn-out contact leaves her cunt undulating and massaging your length. You hiss as your nuts slamming into her ass on every forward thrust, leaving the yokai moaning in delight, her backside bouncing with every wet, welcome whap of your heavy balls against her rear.

The yokai's face is a mess of overstimulated and delighted tears and sweat, running rivulets down the side of her chin and cheeks. Her mouth is open still, but the lolling of her tongue merely adds to the indignity of her countenance, and that only makes it better.

More than better, in fact. The visible signs of her diminution are lovely indeed, but there's a deeper satisfaction, a truer satiation, that's rising to the fore, and you can't think of the name of it until the yokai wails for the first time, and then her shriek fades into a hoarse, croaking, weaker series of gulps as she bears down on your pounding prick hard.

The Ohaguro's orgasm does more than settle any lingering, ludicrous debate as to whether or not she is enjoying this: that she is, and has been, is overabundantly clear. But her broken face, and increasingly-broken inability to actually process the pleasure being pounded and plapped and pressed into and onto her, is telling a story of something deeper, something truer, something far grander in its glory.

"F-f-f-fuck…" You grunt, strained, as you ramp up your motions, your hands fumbling to sink into the yokai's fat, squishy, deliciously jiggling tits, digging into them as you try to stop their jostle and sway. "Fuck, you're fucking meant for this…"

The Ohaguro isn't responding. She's too busy being ravished and rawed, dominated and destroyed, and yelping weakly as a second and then a third orgasm rips through her. The ceaseless undulation of her cunt around your cock is intensifying the heat and tension building in your core and crotch, and every time your nutsack whaps the yokai's upturned ass, it seems to swell and throb with new, imminent vigor.

It's now or never. You had this in mind as soon as you decided to bury yourself balls-deep in the Ohaguro's cunt, but it's coming to fruition in the best way possible.

"F-f-f-fucking t-take it! S-S-Smug whore!" You roar, as you dig your hands into the yokai's tits, and stop thrusting, holding your dick balls-deep inside her, the head of your cock kissing the entrance to her womb as your shaft shudders and shakes. "F-f-fucking take e-every fucking drop, and g-get knocked up!"

For the briefest moment, a flash of lucidity and panic cross the Ohaguro's sightless face. Her mouth is numb and aching, and her face is still undignified to the extreme, but there's a quarter-second of true understanding and cognizance. She looked as though she might protest, but it was too late. Knowing that she's still as yet clinging on to her conceit, and securing herself on her smugness, and hoping to draw on what remains of her ego and dignity in a vain effort to convince you to not empty your balls deep inside her is enough to force you to roar a final, vain warning, more a threat than anything, as you begin to blow your load.

"Here it f-fucking comes!"

As the Ohaguro moans in weak objection, and you grunt as you grope and fondle her enormously squishy tits, you erupt. You paint the yokai's pussy white, pumping spunk into her womb with deliberate and meaningful splatters, powerful and precise, plastering her inner walls with warm, thick cream. Bubbles of drool pop between her lips, and something in the Ohaguro's mind seems to snap in the same instant that your second wave starts, and you begin stuffing more cum inside her with furious splatter after furious splatter. The warmth and weight of hosing down her cunt wrenches yet another climax from the yokai, and her eyes start to go glassy and dreamy again, too pleasured to properly process being pumped pregnant.

Your balls throb against her butthole, tickling her asshole with every downpour. You're pumping the yokai fuller of cum than she could have ever dreamed, and overfilling her with spunk such that there's no way you're not knocking her up here and now, breeding a baby into this slut, who probably is starting to wish she'd acted with less smugness, and is learning humility in the most sudden way possible.

You only stop when you feel you can't possibly muster another drop. It's a long process, and one that leaves the yokai's womb stuffed to the brim, and her belly ever-so-slightly turgid from the excess volume of your eruption, but it's the most glorious feeling in the world to finally feel the peak subside, and your flood of cream ebb and stop.

The Ohaguro looks like a broken, overfucked mess, utterly destroyed and domineered to a degree beyond salvation, undignified and brought low. Her nostrils clench and loosen as she exhales, but there's little other sign of notice: she's not unconscious, but she's simply overstimulated, unable to take in new information thanks to how hard you fucked her, and how much of your load is sloshing inside her, small trickles oozing out from around where your cock plugs her cunt to dribble over her asshole.

But you can't resist one last parting shot.

"M-M-Maybe this'll t-t-teach you some…some humility…" You gasp, as you release the yokai's tits, her breasts marred with red soreness where you over-aggressively fondled them. You lean forward, and plant a kiss on the Ohaguro's drooling lips, and allow your chest to be supported by her enormously soft, pillowy tits, a natural cushion as you recover your energy atop her. You and your new wife fall asleep in each other's arms, your impromptu marriage well and truly consummated.

-

The next morning saw you wake up alone on your incredibly disheveled bed. You glance around for the Ohaguro, only to find your bedroom completely empty, save yourself. Before you can even question whether or not the last two nights were one large erotic dream, however, your bedroom door is flung open. Standing in the doorway, arms carrying a heavily ladened breakfast tray, was the Ohaguro, wearing a smile on her eyeless face and an apron around her curvy body.

And only those two things.

Before you could even get a word in, the basically naked, busty yokai laid the tray on your lap. She gently encouraged you to eat, and with a shrug, you did. As you enjoyed your breakfast, the yokai's smile grew a little more mischievous and she began to slip beneath the covers at the foot of your bed. As you were enjoying your breakfast, your wife would be doing the same.

An unusual and erotic beginning to what would surely be an unusual and very erotic marriage.