Note: This story is not safe for work!! it contains kink content such as: exhibitionism, dubcon. please do not click further if you're a minor and/or if this content will make you extremely upset. you've been warned.
Eito wants Takumi to see her as she is now. Too bad the general can't be damned to look away from her work and asshole co-workers long enough to realize who's truly in front of her.
So if she's going to be a pain about it, Eito has a solution: force her to relax, no matter what revolting methods she needs to use.
“Ah, Ms. Sumino, I received the finalized terms for tomorrow’s agreement.” The man shoved himself close—Takumi had to put distance between the two of them herself, only for him to approach once again. “You can review it if you want, but we’ve had all our best men summarize it to the Queen, so if you’d like to talk in private…”
His hot breath stained her skin, even with the padded uniform pulled tight over her body. Most of the army men knew to stay professional, how to respect their colleagues, underlings and superiors alike. Takumi knew well enough from Eito’s lectures on the topic that a lot of men wouldn’t hesitate to take advantage of a woman's politeness to quietly push at her boundaries, like a busted door which only required a small shove to allow access.
Title, rank, none of it mattered—he wanted to be close, and Takumi wanted to stay professional. She was given a nonexistent choice. Other soldiers eyed the pair in the hallway, some even winking. The soldier which encroached upon her precious personal space was known for being good-looking, and it seemed now he used this chance to wield it in his favor.
After all, what did she have to complain about? Getting such personal attention—any other woman would, should be envious.
“I—” Takumi said, until a gaze cold enough to freeze the world over peered from the corner of her vision.
“General Sumino,” Hiruko snapped, cold eyes trained on the soldier before her. She shoved him off as though he were a roach. “Did you lose your manners alongside that leg of yours?”
The soldier, a thousand sins weighing down his face in heavy folded wrinkles, shot the woman a look of hatred, before he shoved a pile of papers in Takumi’s arms and stormed off. Eito—at Hiruko’s side—clicked her tongue, reaching into her pocket; Takumi lunged to stop her before she brandished the knife she kept in her pocket. Along with a stun gun, a vial of poison (tasteless, odorless, the works) and, of course, an infuser.
Hiruko leveled a glare at Eito. “Learn to use your words. The both of you. The more you let those gnats get to you, the more it’ll compromise your ability to do your job.”
She gave them no chance to argue, continuing down the hall and leaving two disgruntled women in her wake. Takumi rolled her eyes and stormed into her own office, Eito hot on her heels.
“The disrespect,” Eito hissed. “You’d think the rank-and-file would bother to remember how to behave towards their general, but for some they can’t seem to muster even an iota of respect. Just as disgusting as—”
Takumi collapsed at her desk, throwing her head in her hands. Her tight padded uniform clung to her skin—the one she wore now designed for presentation over practicality, littered with accessories and fancy ornaments she had no interest in. Kamyuhn grew up at war, spent her teenage years locked in strategy rooms and emergency bunkers as people died in her name and for her vision of a better future. If Takumi could do one thing, just one thing for her, it’d be to indulge her requests for ‘girl’s days’, for make-up sessions, even dressing in what Takumi felt was a Halloween costume.
It didn’t mean she wouldn’t throw them off as soon as possible in the privacy of her office. And that she did, until all the finery laid around her, and Takumi wore nothing but a shirt over under-armor and itchy pants.
“What’re you even doing here, Aotsuki?” Takumi groaned, and Eito helped herself to a seat, crossing her legs. She took the papers Takumi carried oh so dutifully into the office, looking over the finely-penned words like they’d give her a disease if she stared too long.
“A mental health check,” she said. “First of all, these peace terms are a disgrace. The humans are depleted, and they still act as if they’re owed everything we can provide them. What do you plan to say to them tomorrow?”
Takumi groaned. “We’re planning on—”
“And you’re far too old to be dressing up. It’s like you’re Kamyuhn’s doll.”
“…You know why I can’t say no.” They’d been created to destroy this planet. In some way Takumi felt responsible for giving the young woman a normal life.
Eito, to her credit, clicked her tongue and went back to looking through the terms. They were going to refuse—the humans demanded they completely disarm as a condition of peace, while having no such clause for their own side. It was a farce, a proclamation of foolishness; thinking they could still win.
Takumi knew them inside and out, both the terms themselves and the people who put pen to paper. Confidence at the price of innocent people. Peace sacrificed for power, security.
Too many people died for her to give up now.
“You’re looking serious again.”
Takumi looked up. Eito rolled her eyes, grabbing the entire pile of papers and tossing them; they drifted, floundering, dying leaves floating to safety as they scattered about. Neither of the women mourned them.
“You’ll clean that up,” Takumi barked, folding her hands over the table. “I’ve heard it before—I know I’m busy, I know I work too much and talk too often to people who won’t give us the time of day until we make them. But I really don’t need to hear it from you.
“’Cause—I know you don’t care. You can pretend to be formal, but you don’t need to pretend to like me.”
Their relationship tended towards professional. If they hadn’t been fighting the humans still, Takumi doubted Eito would’ve bothered to stick around for so long.
Eito’s mouth fell open, and shut. She pursed her lips into a line, breaking eye contact with Takumi and gazing at a nearby bookshelf. Takumi’s office had several, though only the observant eye, one who’d rather look at purposeless furniture over other human beings would realize a fine layer of dust encased each volume in years and years of neglect. Even as an adult, Takumi never bothered to read a single book. “You’re right. I don’t. I’d rather you suffer forever under your wise choices—it might teach you some grace.”
Takumi sighed. “At least I didn’t wear the dress Kamyuhn tried to stuff me in.” She hasn’t worn one since—well, her childhood memories were fake, so never. Regardless, she had no plans of trying one on.
Especially if it meant the men under her would take her less seriously. She had an image to maintain, morale to keep high. Even outside of the control of humanity some social norms refused to leave her be.
“I still think those disorderly soldiers deserve to suffer most,” Eito said, as if she read the other woman’s mind. She donned a playful smile. “For as long as it takes. Ruling through fear may be enough for Hiruko, but it’ll fail with you. Not everyone is capable of traumatizing people with a look the way she does.”
“Thanks for reminding me, jackass.”
“It’s a pleasure. I might as well be your adviser, right?”
“That’s Ima’s job, not yours!”
“And yet he’s doing such a good job in that regard. Where is he, anyhow?”
“He didn’t bother showing up ‘cause he knew the terms would be a joke. And he was right, I was wrong—that’s not the point.”
“You’re right. I’m just teasing you.”
“That’s not the word I’d use…nevermind. Just clean up your mess and go.”
“…Ugh, Takumi.”
“Seriously, if you’re just here to insult me, you can leave. I’m not forcing you to stay.”
“Takumi.”
“What!?”
In an instant, Takumi’s world shifted. From one where Eito sat across from Takumi, the esteemed general of the army before her lesser commander, to one where they sprawled over one another, all pretenses tossed away. They argued, they bickered, but unlike the days long ago where one truly, deeply hated the other, they managed to come to an understanding in pursuit of a common goal. Takumi often sought out Eito more often than Ima when it came to battle tactics. Eito’s practical, brutal strategy—Takumi couldn’t deny it shaped her, in some way.
Some form.
Nudged its way between bones, nestled into her bloodstream and flowed into her brain. Eito—Eito.
“…Aotsuki,” she said (it was all she could say). “Get away from me.”
Eito did the opposite. She grabbed the other woman’s arm and pulled Takumi forward, into a kiss so brief Takumi could’ve fooled herself into thinking it never happened.
“Sorry, your voice is so irritating it’s a struggle to listen,” she said, holding on still, leaning close still. “But that’s not the only thing irritating about you. Your stupidity, for one—if I hate being around you so much, then why do I keep coming back?”
Takumi’s brain froze.
“I…” she stuttered, as if she had anything to say about the way Eito behaved. “Listen—I know we’re not friends. Everything between us is just for the sake of the Futurans. If you’re planning on leaving once we force the humans to surrender, then that’s fine with me, just as long as you don’t—”
“Hurt them?” Eito sneered, yanking, but Takumi held her ground. “I just might. But is that what you care about? Do you regret all the killing? All the dead humans?”
Takumi swallowed her next words. She couldn’t say anything. She wanted to—no, she didn’t want to! Saying anything meant making a move on the board, cornered before she knew they started the game. Takumi would lose no matter what.
Saying that word, that’d be admitting to herself something she just—really, truly couldn’t. For all kinds of reasons. Eito herself, the kind of person she was, what she wanted from others…
What she wanted—what Takumi wanted…
I just don’t want you to disappear.
An image lingered in Takumi’s mind. Another world, where they all won the war against humanity. Where they mourned who they lost, where Eito looked on with her dull, disinterested expression. One longing for a place to belong, but not with them.
Because they were all that horrid. So unbearable—an unchanging fact inflicted on her through a glitch. She’d smile, as she pretended to, then she’d look to the sky. She’d look to a beautiful, clear lake, and Eito would become one with its still, deadly reflection.
Takumi knew she wanted that. This kiss was just another way to mess with Takumi’s head, feigning affection only for her to…
Leave. Disappear.
It was only a matter of time. Takumi prepared herself for this long ago. So, why did Eito keep playing games with her? Why did she delay the inevitable?
“What’s the point?” Takumi said, and got another kiss as an answer. This time she didn’t resist, and Eito pushed further, shoving her tongue against Takumi’s own, so clumsy and violent—Eito’s eyes shot open, and she lunged back, hands over her mouth, shaking and shivering before strings of bile leaked out, accompanied by the beautiful music of her retching.
Takumi clapped a hand over Eito’s mouth, then pushed the other woman away. “I knew it! Stop—stop screwing with me! You’re always…trying to push me, asking me why I’m so goddamn anal about my work, but then you do this shit, and how—how am I supposed to be relaxed!?”
She kicked her chair, slumping back into it as Eito leaned on the other seat for support. “You—” she sputtered, before covering her mouth once more. Takumi sighed, exhaustion burned into her breath.
An Eito who worked with Takumi, who told her what she needed to hear, not what she wanted. An Eito who hated Takumi, loathed, despised her, who’d undermine everyone around her with only the inkling that they could do something wrong, that they were wrong. An Eito who—
Was another, dead Eito. A foreign idea of an Eito. Takumi swallowed it back down.
“…Who do you think you are?” Takumi said, breathless.
Eito looked up at her, shaking, pupils dilated. “Takumi,” she said, wiping a line of drool from her cheek, “Who do you think you’ve been working with, all this time? The me you knew before? Or the one you’re stuck with, since you threw your wretched self back in time to save us?
“If you think it doesn’t matter, then go ahead. Go and throw yourself at Nozomi’s grave and beg for her forgiveness. What happened to the one in your timeline again…? She died too, right? But for nothing. At least here she had the choice to save someone she cared about. Or do you think that’s a mis—”
Takumi grit her teeth and punched Eito in the face. She laughed, dry and hollow, and punched back. Takumi grabbed Eito and threw her against the table, and Eito cursed—Takumi’s current combat experience outweighed hers by far too much—though, in the end, she only held Eito there.
“…Of course I do.”
She collapsed against Eito, and Eito bit back her revulsion. “Every day. I think I fucked up. I always thought—once this is over, once we get the peace we’ve wanted for ages, you’ll leave too. You won’t bleed out on the ground, but it won’t be much different.
“Okay? Are you—happy? Fuck…fuck, I gotta…
“Ah—Aotsuki.”
Eito stared.
“When did things come to this?”
She just couldn’t seem to look away. The fact that something so revolting could become so pitiful in an instant, it took all her words (and she had so much to say, always), tore her scripts to pieces.
Eito ran a thumb over Takumi’s cheek, and she let her. The two stayed close. The nausea that stuck to Eito’s throat seemed to dissipate—of course it pulsed, demanded to be heard, to stick and cry and bang against the restraints of Eito’s innards, of her goodwill and ‘polite demeanor’. But she wouldn’t let it out.
Not to be nice—not for anyone’s sake but her own. Takumi wrapped an arm around her, and she, for all it was worth, returned the favor.
“Who’s been here, all this time?” Eito whispered.
“…Well, you,” Takumi said, so dumbly Eito almost wanted to laugh at how stupid Takumi could be. “Sorry. I guess I do need a break. But we have negotiations tomorrow—I have to focus. Please, if you want to help, go do what you need to do before the humans show up.”
“Hah—not even a second for a break. It’s selfish.” Regardless, Eito freed herself, reaching a limit with close contact. She might’ve thought to leave, too, to escape this emotional moment and find solace anywhere but where she just poured her heart out.
But fate knew when to grant levity—in a way neither had more than a scant few moments to prepare for.
The door clicked, Hiruko entering.
When Hiruko entered an office, you knew before she opened the door. First, she used the master key—the one which could access every room in the building. Takumi always locked her office when she was stressed, but she’d fallen asleep one too many times for Hiruko to have the patience to knock and wait. It was the other person’s fault if she walked into something humiliating, anyhow.
The click of her heels gave it away too. She’d snap them against the floor like the snag of a rope trap, warning you before it wrapped around your neck and broke your spine. Her entrances carried the same deadly flair, too.
Slow. Methodical. Unavoidable all the same.
But the slowness gave Takumi time to perform the kind of feats she honed her body for—she threw Eito under the desk, slammed the other chair into place, and tossed herself into her cushy seat by the time Hiruko fully opened the door, Tsubasa and Gaku hot on her heels. Eito perfectly concealed by the wooden adornment mounted on the front of Takumi’s desk.
Right.
Everything was fine.
Takumi smiled, trying to look normal. Nope, she totally didn’t just have an emotional moment with the woman no one thought she was that close to. Honestly, she’d rather die of embarrassment right now than let anyone even begin to guess at what the two were meeting for. As long as Eito had the decency of looking out for herself too and staying put, no one would know.
“Hey, what happened here?” Tsubasa said, rushing ahead to gather up the scattered papers as Gaku grinned, sliding into the other seat.
“It’s obvious—you’re getting it, aren’t you?” Gaku held up a hand, fingernails just as dirt-ridden as the last time Takumi saw them. “What’s the point in keeping these places clean when we’ve got people working on that already?”
Hiruko grabbed Gaku by the collar and yanked, taking his spot. “What did I say about inane side comments?”
Gaku gulped and looked away. Hiruko smiled, satisfied, as Tsubasa placed the papers in a neat pile on Takumi’s desk. Even then she put them off to the side; completely, utterly irrelevant.
“Sorry for dropping in,” Tsubasa said, “but we needed to talk to you. It’s, uh…something I’m worried about. I think—” she broke off, trembling, taking a breath before she continued, “—I think the humans are baiting us.”
Eito, as a commander with many, many lives on her hands, would not consider herself a slave to social niceties. She could leave this desk right now, let everything think whatever they wanted. If anything—seeing Takumi forced to explain what happened and why she hid Eito there would make her day.
But that’d be too easy.
Even after all this time, Takumi didn’t realize shit. She was dense, inconsiderate, useless at understanding people and even worse at understanding Eito. The next time a traumatized soldier tried to use Takumi as a replacement mother, wife, whatever, Eito would think of today and laugh.
Nevertheless, she was faced with two problems. One: Takumi refused to believe Eito actually wanted to be around her, however much revulsion her existence planted in her. Two, she, general of the entire army, refused to relax. Take a rest day. She wondered if Takumi ever even just locked herself in a bathroom and jacked off for a bit like all the other disgusting rank-and-file not so secretly did—
…
Ah. There it was.
A way to teach Takumi a lesson, and do her a favor. Though Eito lacked experience in these things (chronic touch revulsion does that to you) she had studied it once. Out of curiosity, even if she regretted it, turning to images disconnected from reality to understand these strange acts.
Wondered, if she’d ever find anyone she felt comfortable doing these things with, if she’d managed to break that invisible barrier of disgust…
Well. She’d find out now. That pitiful Takumi—if Eito held onto that image, maybe it’d shut out the reality before her.
So she went to work. Helping Takumi relax, as she said she wanted to.
They’d been knee deep in their conversation when it happened.
Gaku found out about the surprise first—he’d fallen into espionage work since the war’s midpoint, getting his act together and putting his years of fake work memories to use infiltrating lavish human parties as wait staff, cozying up to high-ranking officers. A drunk one leaked the plans for a bomb capable of wiping an entire city.
He brought the information to Tsubasa, who tracked down the blueprints and discovered they’d built a prototype—specifically designed to get past all Futuran security systems. Hiruko pulled all this information together and brought everyone to General Takumi to devise a counter-attack.
“They thought they could undermine us,” Hiruko said, a murderous, gleeful glint in her eyes. “If only they were capable of it. Sumino, you’ve inspected their transportation countless times. What can you tell us?”
“Well…” Takumi launched into an explanation of the trucks they’d bring, of places she might think to hide the bomb if she were a human scheming to wipe out the rebellion’s capital. But as she spoke, something tugged at her attention.
At first she thought it might’ve been the pants. They were itchy as hell, now being no exception, but when the tingle of contact stretched down her thigh, ended at her crotch, an uncomfortable sensation pooled in her stomach.
There was no way.
No way.
She kicked, hitting something of Eito’s, and hoped that’d be the end of that. Hiruko frowned, but probably only because the bulkiness of the human tanks meant hiding a bomb designed to get past their defenses would be beyond easy.
“We need to have the entire city inspected,” Hiruko said. “It might’ve been planted long ago.”
Tsubasa nodded, and pulled out a phone, calling someone and issuing orders as if being asked what she wanted to order still didn’t make her nauseous. Takumi breathed a sigh of relief—only for the fabric of her pants to slide against her legs, followed by the bite of cold air.
Eito had pulled her pants down. She kept trailing her fingers against Takumi’s inner thigh, until she switched to stroking way too close to her more sensitive parts, working her way around the band of Takumi’s panties.
Fuck.
Fuck, fuck, fuck—Takumi tried to kick, but Eito held her legs down. She kicked harder, and her foot hit the desk.
“Are you even listening?”
Gaku snapped into focus, disgruntled, bags burned beneath his eyes. “Quit playing around down there. What, are you hiding something?”
Takumi would’ve died if Hiruko didn’t fix Gaku with another ‘don’t mess around’ look, sending him into another cold sweat—protecting Takumi from explaining a horrible situation.
If it’d just been Hiruko, Takumi might’ve tackled and dragged Eito out herself, pants down to her ankles and all. Hell, she might’ve been able to explain things to Tsubasa. She would be weirded out, but at least she’d also be too nice to say much about it. But Gaku? Fucking Gaku?
Hell no. She’d rather die. And so Eito had free reign to do what she pleased with Takumi’s body. Hiruko cleared her throat, giving Takumi a side eye which had her sweating before she continued to speak about architecture stuff. Takumi couldn’t focus on it anymore—her mind zeroed in on Eito’s incessant touching.
She’d gotten bored of the gentle teasing, and the moment her thumb touched her panties directly, dragging the digit over the dampened folds of her pussy only barely protected by fabric, Takumi bit down on her inner cheek and focused on the stinging pain over anything else. Nope. You’re not winning anything over her, Aotsuki, not today.
“Sumino.”
“Uh—yeah?” Takumi propped an elbow up and rested her head, wide smile earning her looks of confusion from Tsubasa and Gaku.
Hiruko sighed, in a way you never wanted to hear from her. “I wanted to know your thoughts on delegating the inspection. You manage the city defenses, you’d know best how to split our focus effectively.”
Isn’t that right, Takumi? You’re great at focusing, aren’t you?
“Shut—I mean, uh, let me think. What’s…right, the city, and the—border, and…” Getting hit by a random meteor suddenly seemed like the coolest thing ever right now. Eito’s relentless teasing pulled Takumi’s attention away from the conversation, and by the looks of it, Hiruko already started to plot on where she was going to hide her body after she finished slicing Takumi into little pieces. Tsubasa played with the brim of her cap, nervous, while Gaku grumbled something Takumi didn’t want to hear a word about.
Unfortunately, though, Gaku wasn’t done.
“C’mon, it’s obvious what’s happening.” Gaku rolled his eyes. “Can’t you guys see it? She’s squirming, and blushing. There’s only one reason why she can’t think straight…”
Wait, maybe suicide was awesome. Where was her infuser? She’d need to do some awkward fumbling, Eito would interfere, but it wouldn’t be so difficult to grab it and go for the neck—
He snapped his fingers. “She’s on her period.”
…
…
…
“That’s—that’s not—” Tsubasa began, but Gaku shushed her, shaking his head.
“Wait, hear me out first! It might’ve not been…real, but I remember when some of my little sisters started theirs, they’d get super nervous about it. Blushing, squirming, the works. ‘Specially around guys. But, hey, if you need to run to the bathroom and grab a pad, don’t be shy. Just ‘cause I’m a man doesn’t mean I can’t handle that stuff.”
…Hiruko heaved a deep, heavy breath. “…How thoughtful of you. Sumino, if you need a break, then go. Before I lose whatever scraps of patience I have left.”
Takumi’s mouth flapped open, absent of any rational thought other than What the fuck, Maruko. A sentiment that maybe everyone shared, but the last thing she wanted was to bring more attention to what was, to those who knew, obvious signs of arousal. Takumi stopped herself, thinking back on the situation with the city, prepared to muster one single rational thought to keep everyone calm and on track.
Until Eito pulled her panties down at last. Takumi hoped she might still be hanging onto the foreplay phase, but those vapid hopes came crashing down as she aimed right for the worst possible point—Takumi’s delicate, desperate clit, and her futile attempt to say something came out whether she wanted it to or not.
“I thii—ah—!” Takumi covered her mouth. Tsubasa planted a fist against her other palm as if she realized something.
Eito wouldn’t stop playing with that spot, casting a deep comfortable haze over Takumi’s brain—and, as much as she hated it, Tsubasa looking at Takumi while she melted under Eito’s careful touch sent a spark up her spine, forced her to bite back another moan. If she knew, what would she say? How would she react? Would she be horrified—disgusted, even?
Takumi shook her head, trying not to imagine Tsubasa’s disgust while Takumi laid there, sweaty, desperate and vulnerable. She failed miserably.
“Wait…Maruko, you might’ve been right,” she said. “Or maybe—hmmm…I have another theory?”
Hiruko went blank. She regarded Tsubasa with cold calculation, then Takumi—until a grin smeared her face, awful and in-control. “You know what—we’ll get back to our plans later. Tell me your theory.”
“Oh…uh, okay?” Tsubasa frowned. “Um, Sumino, has your…period been regular?”
Takumi took a deep breath, trying to push away the pleasant feelings pooling, the fact that everyone staring as Eito messed up her pussy somehow made it feel way better than doing it on her own. “Uh—kind of…?”
“Hmmm. Well, this is probably something Omokage might know more about, but I’ve heard menopause happens sooner for Futurans than it does for humans. And since we were made of their DNA, that’d be the case for us too.”
“O-Ohh, uh, interesting,” Takumi said, words breathy despite her best efforts. “Sh…Suh—so, you think…?”
“We can check, but maybe you’re getting heat flashes.” Tsubasa scrunched her face up. “Have you been feeling suddenly hot lately? Like you’ve got a fever without any other symptoms other than the temperature?”
Fuck, fuck—she had to focus, say something. Every time they looked at Takumi her face grew hot, and her mind wandered to the possibility. The idea that Eito might push Takumi over, revealing their general half-naked and being fingered the entire meeting. They’d all be horrified, angry, watching—and she’d…she’d—
They’d all be looking. At her wet pussy, at her loud, unabashed moaning—they’d probably tell the rest of the SDU, and then every time one of them looked at Takumi, they’d know, they’d have the image burned into their mind—
Eito gave Takumi no warming.
She jammed a finger in as if exploring a test subject, as if dissecting a rat and running a scalpel through the innards, a rough methodical procedure that stole the last vestiges of Takumi’s focus as she pulled in and out, curled clumsily into every sensitive spot Takumi neglected. Concentrating on anything else suddenly seemed so impossible, insurmountable, she slammed her head against the desk to muffle her groans, the way her face flushed so deeply beyond a flash of warmth. She buried her hands in her head, yanking out hair. Keep it back, keep it back, don’t make a sound, don’t you dare—
Her heart thudded in her ears.
“Sumino!?” Tsubasa yelled. “I think—uh, maybe it’s not…? Should we call a doctor!?”
“Hey, like I said, nothing to be ashamed of!” Gaku slapped her on the shoulder, and frankly, more touch was the last thing she wanted. She shivered at the mere sensation that someone was there, watching so closely—did he get a glimpse of underneath her desk? Did he know?
And if he knew…
“Get away from there,” Hiruko snapped. She put another hand on Takumi’s shoulder in Gaku’s place, running her nails against Takumi’s sensitive skin. She jumped, before Eito inserted another finger and stole her attention again. Takumi thought everyone should’ve heard how wet her pussy was by this point, but still no one pointed it out.
Eito had started with slow, gentle movements. Enough to drag things out, to make the pleasure last longer, to bring as many reactions out of her target as possible. But as time passed she became intent on making Takumi feel the shame of an orgasm while before her comrades in arms—breaking down the barrier between General and Commander. Unfortunately for Takumi, everything about these circumstances jacked her arousal up to shameful levels.
Takumi refused to accept that she had any interest in exhibitionism, but the universe seemed intent on proving her otherwise. Hiruko’s gentle, knowing strokes on her back helped little. In fact—
She groaned, the sound of footsteps reaching her. Voices of concern who soon petered out. When Takumi managed to look up again, a strand of drool traveling from her cheek, she was faced with Hiruko alone.
“Don’t look like that,” she said, arms crossed, “I’m waiting until you’re done.”
Takumi wondered what she expected. Hiruko showed no interest, not even her usual sadism. Just a detached, disinterested disappointment.
“Do…you…?”
“I know.”
She knew. She knew. She could see it in Takumi’s sloppy face and deep blush and how she melted as Eito used one hand to pleasure her insides and the other to play with her clit, she knew how Takumi gave in so easily to how good it all felt.
She’d know when Takumi came, when her general, meant to lead the others without a crack in her armor would collapse under a stupid, unsubtle sneak attack.
Ah—I want her to see, I want her to look at me, and I want Eito to keep going, even if she sees everything—Takumi leaned into Eito’s touch, let her push her over the peak with little resistance.
Takumi’s mind went blank, and she finally, truly gave up on hiding it. Spit mixed with blood from biting her mouth shut, she let out a loud cry as she climaxed, clinging to the table and leaving scratches from her desperate, last-ditch attempt to hide how good it felt to finally let all that pent-up stress out.
After a pause, Hiruko sighed, grabbed the back of Takumi’s chair and yanked it. Eito crouched in the corner, a handkerchief pressed to her nose as she heaved back a bout of nausea. When she removed it, Takumi smelled bile. Hiruko wrinkled her nose.
“You’re both—borrowing a word from one of our commanders—disgusting. The fact you’re both in one piece right now says a lot about how dire our current circumstances are. If I didn’t need Sumino alive to delegate the squadrons, I would’ve killed you both.”
Takumi winched, scrambling to pull her clothes on. Eito put distance between herself and Takumi, saying: “She was close to killing herself with all her duties as it was. Tell yourself I’m just doing my job, keeping our commander well and healthy, and you’ll learn to swallow it.”
Hiruko eyed the handkerchief. “And you’re the one to tell me this?”
Eito sneered and threw it at her. It flipped in the air before it hit the ground, a few feet away from Hiruko. She sighed, and with a clack of her heels turned to the door. But before she left…
“And before you get any new ideas—I figured it out the moment I walked in,” she said, “if you try that again, you’ll wish I killed you the first time.”
Takumi hated how hearing that worked her up all over again. Eito smiled, ready to say something herself, but Takumi buried her head against her desk and covered her ears.
That’d been enough self discovery for one day. And, even if she hated to say it…she did feel a weight off her shoulder. Both with matters related to work, and related to an Eito she’d never fully trust, but wanted to understand.