A/N: Was almost not gonna upload, but can't be doing that too often, so here's the chapter. I need to start writing earlier in the day tbh.
----------------------------
Ryoku crouched low on the slanted roof tiles of a random home, his chest still tight from the sprint that had carried him nearly three kilometers away from the Hyūga compound. He perched like a stray cat in the midday sun, his breathing shallow, eyes darting from alley to alley. His muscles were coiled, tense, his instincts refusing to trust his escape completely.
Even with the distance between him and Meiko, he wasn't foolish enough to think he was safe. She was the kind of warrior who could track a scent, a chakra, or a heartbeat through sheer willpower. Still, minutes ticked by. First seconds of silence, then whole minutes stretched long, and no sudden blur of white robes descended upon him.
Only when his nerves dulled did Ryoku finally dare to shift, lowering himself flat onto his back across the cold tiles. The stone pressed into his shoulders and spine, hard and unforgiving, but he welcomed the sensation. He stared upward, squinting against the almost blinding blue of the sky. It was so bright it stung his eyes.
And in that brightness, his thoughts wandered.
His life had turned into something chaotic, an endless parade of people chasing him, using him, molding him into whatever they needed. He had expected confusion, annoyance, even resentment—but strangely, what he felt most in this moment was… belonging. For the first time in all his life, he wasn't invisible.
In college, in high school, even back in middle school, he'd always been the outcast. The odd one out. The "weird kid." His hobbies never lined up with the mainstream, his humor never clicked with the groups around him. They whispered, they laughed, they ostracized, and eventually he had stopped trying to fit in altogether.
From classrooms to lecture halls, the pattern was the same. Always the kid sitting alone at the back. Always the one no one thought twice about. Always unnecessary.
A faint smile touched his lips as he traced idle shapes across the drifting clouds above him with his eyes. "I guess I wanted to be a corrupt politician," he murmured aloud, his voice soft, reflective. "So I'd have power over the people who made fun of me. I wanted the money they wanted so badly. But really? I didn't even care for it. I was just gonna spend it on making a futa bot anyway… hah."
His smile stretched a little wider. A quiet chuckle left him, self-deprecating but strangely warm. "I guess I don't have to anymore. This world's overflowing with futas. Everywhere I look, they're here. And for once… for once, I'm wanted. Sought after. Like the void that's been gnawing at me my whole life finally has something to fill it."
With a grunt, he pushed himself up, standing tall atop the roof. His hands found his hips as he gazed out over the distance, past the familiar rooftops, toward the distant Konoha gates. His chest swelled faintly.
'I love it here—'
The thought cut short as a crushing weight slammed into the back of his neck.
The blow was devastating, stealing the strength from his body in a single jolt. His knees buckled, dropping him down hard onto one knee. His vision swam, black creeping into the corners, threatening to swallow him whole. He struggled to lift his gaze just once, and through the haze he saw her.
A tall, muscular woman. Her legs carved from marble, her stance broad and commanding. A massive tube of flesh swung heavily between them, veiny, thick, grotesquely beautiful in its size. And she was looking directly at him.
"I didn't want to take you back by force," Meiko's voice rumbled, every syllable edged with scolding authority. "But you just wouldn't stop running."
As she crouched down to scoop him up, her robe shifted, parting open. The massive, girthy cock within spilled into view, veins pulsing thick and blue under her skin. Ryoku's fogged mind barely registered the words, but his fading consciousness burned the sight into his memory.
For a brief, traitorous moment, Meiko hesitated. As her hand hovered near his jaw, her eyes softened. She truly looked at him. The curve of his face, the softness of his lips, the surprising delicacy in his features despite his sharp tongue. 'N-now that I look at him with a clear head…'
But she bit down on the thought, growling inwardly, shaking her head. With rough efficiency, she hoisted him over her broad shoulder. In the next breath, her body flickered as she leapt from rooftop to tree, carrying him like a sack of rice.
'I'm on duty,' she berated herself, jaw tightening. 'A guard. A warrior. Not some fool chasing lust. Get these ideas out of your head.'
An hour later, Ryoku's eyes fluttered open. His jaw cracked as he yawned, arms stretching above him. He rubbed his face, trying to peel away the sticky residue of sleep.
But then he froze. The surface beneath him wasn't familiar. It wasn't his bed. His back rested against something thin, soft but firm. Blinking the blur from his eyes, he tilted his head upward—and stiffened.
A wooden ceiling stared back at him.
He bolted upright immediately, panic rushing through his veins. This wasn't his apartment. He spun in place, his heart hammering, his gaze racing across the room. He had been sleeping on a simple futon, white sheets with a black cover and a pillow dyed faint pink. Not his. Not anything he owned.
And memory hit him like a kunai to the gut.
The strike. The blurred vision. Meiko.
'Shit.'
The room around him glowed dimly, lit only by warm lamps nestled into the walls, their golden light breathing life into the shadows. His chest tightened. He scanned desperately for an exit until his eyes landed on a wooden sliding door behind him.
Creeping toward it on cautious feet, he lowered himself, sliding it open just enough to peek. Through the thin gap, he could hear heavy footsteps echoing in the next room.
He pried the door wider. And what he saw froze him solid.
Meiko.
But not in her white robe. No. She was bare. Entirely naked.
Ryoku's eyes widened, jaw falling slack as his brain struggled to process what stood before him.
Her body was a sculpture carved by gods. Chiselled, powerful, built with the perfection of an athlete and the grace of a predator. Her thighs were like pillars of stone, corded with muscle. Her waist cinched sharply, showcasing rock-hard abs that rippled with every breath. Her breasts sat high, full but firm, held aloft by sheer muscle beneath. Her back and shoulders spread broad, carved with definition, wide enough to carry armies.
Her ass—fuck, her ass—was plump, round, impossibly firm, shaped not by genes but by years of merciless training.
And below it all hung the monstrous cock he had glimpsed before, now fully revealed in its glory. Veins snaked down its thick length, its size so far beyond anything Ryoku had seen that it seemed to mock reality.
Ryoku couldn't breathe. Couldn't think. His body moved without his permission, his hand pushing the door wider as his eyes drank her in greedily. The thought of fleeing evaporated like smoke.
Meiko reached for a towel, dabbing it across her shoulders, then dragging it down her chest. She moved without shame, her strength and beauty on full display.
Ryoku's lips parted. A whisper slipped out. "Wow…"
The sound carried across the room.
Meiko's head whipped around. Her eyes widened as she saw him standing there, gawking like a hungry beast. Panic flashed across her features, her body tensing on instinct. In a split-second impulse, she hurled the towel across the room.
It smacked Ryoku in the face, the heavy fabric collapsing over his head. His vision went black, his nose overwhelmed by the rich, heady scent of coconut fragrance that clung to her skin and towel alike.
Through the muffling fabric, his voice came again, soft and awestruck. "Just… woww…"
------------------------------
Let's run up the powerstones guys. Our goal for this week is 500 for a double release. Also comments and reviews are greatly appreciated! Seriously, I appreciate comments, they help me continue and remind me why I've written this much already.