Chapter 5: Getting Dangerously MetaJuri leapt from rooftop to rooftop, the ornately decorated shingles beneath her feet providing more than enough grip.
This new area was fairly mundane, but still hard to place regardless. A shrine? An academy? A military boot camp? All of the above? Up on this seemingly remote mountain range, a colossal, sprawling castle-mansion of vaguely Japanese design towered over the no man's land around it. A room with a chabudai table, circled with tatami mats, placed right next to a window for the best view of dirt laced with barbed wire. A wooden bridge, lovingly carved to seem as if the hand railings were serpentine dragons, arcing over a pond filled with broken blades and speckled with shreds of seifuku. One of those bamboo water donk-donk things -- she always forgot the name -- being fed liquid of a suspiciously coppery tinge as papers long made illegible work their way out of a torn backpack nearby and flutter about the area. Taken part-by-part it could have made sense, but everything together was a place where comprehension went to die.
Oh well. She wasn't here to figure this place out. What she wanted was... right... over... there.
That must be it. In the distance, amidst an army of sparring dummies, was a moving, white dot. It was the only sign of life Juri had seen since she entered this place. And, if all went well, it would also be the last.
As Juri drew closer she noticed a peculiarity: The motion that originally caught her eye was not actually the figure walking or practicing on one of the training dummies surrounding her. Juri's target had actually noticed her first, and was excitedly flagging her down with a two-hand wave. This was hardly the only strange thing about her, though.
To get the most obvious thing out of the way: She was dressed as some sort of saccharine ballerina angel. Juri was slightly alarmed at the prospect of facing off against an actual mythical being, but upon closer inspection it was clear that the wings were just part of her Halloween costume. Upon further thought, there was no chance of a getup like that crossing the pearly gates in the first place.
Her boots -- which somehow managed to be both platform shoes and high heels -- gave way to stockings specifically designed to draw attention to the gap between their end and the start of her skirt. And it was quite a gap; the skirt itself rigged to shoot outwards instead of cover anything below it. Continuing the theme of "Why even bother?", the angel's impressive chest bobbed and weaved a fraction of a second behind the rest of her enthusiastic bouncing; loosely confined within just enough frilly material to be considered a corset. Moving even further upward, a tiny glittery tiara sat upon her golden blonde locks. She wore a catlike smile and her mismatched eyes almost glowed in anticipation.
"It's about time!" the angel nearly shouted with glee, hopping from foot to foot as if to a tune which only she could hear. "It's been far too long since I've had a dance with someone."
"Somehow, I don't think you know what you're getting yourself into." Juri replied, sizing up her opponent.
The angel's cheeks gained a light shade of red, but her grin did not waver one bit.
"Oh, I know alright. Don't hold back!"
Juri allowed the angel to make the first move, in order to get a better handle on what she was capable of. Juri was particularly interested in her weapons of choice -- apparently a set of twin handguns fused by the handles and fired using both index and pinkie fingers -- but it was her movement that really caught her off guard. The angel did not run so much as glide, some ability of hers allowing her to slide across the muddy ground with all the grace and ease of a figure skater on clean ice. That was a pity; she was actually looking forward to her trying to do anything in those shoes.
At the end of her "charge" the angel leapt slightly off the ground, corkscrewing and firing her weapons as she did so to lay down a sphere of danger all around her. Taking the risk, Juri dove underneath the ballerina's lunge and rolled back into a ready stance behind her.
Despite how quick this all went, Juri learned a great deal of valuable information. For one: The angel's modified pistols were altered a lot more thoroughly than expected. Instead of bullets they created large, short-range bursts of red and blue energy at the muzzles; functioning more like a taser or weaponized sparkler than any type of handgun. And, as one blast grazed her foot, she realized that the energy itself was rather unique as well. Her skin was at first scorched by the explosion, as would be expected, but then the burned area was immediately turned frigid as ice crystals grew along it. The effect altogether was painful as all hell, and pretty inconvenient on top of that, but it would take a lot of effort to make it even approach lethal. That was good to keep in mind.
As the angel spun to once again meet her, Juri had already come up with the outlines of a plan. Crossing her arms in front of her for protection, Juri charged the angel head-on.
The angel opened fire, burning then freezing Juri's forearms, but Juri still advanced. Now protected by a layer of ice, Juri thrust her welded arms forward to catch her opponent's neck in the gap between her hands. She hung like that for a few more steps until they slammed into a sparring dummy, trapping the angel between it and Juri's reinforced cross choke.
Juri wasted no time to press the advantage. Although she could do nothing with her hands until they thawed enough to break out her legs were just fine, and she began a flurry of knees into the angel's stomach.
The angel, caught off guard and now lacking in air, could seemingly do little in defense. She at first attempted to reach past Juri's head -- perhaps to shoot her pistols into the sides of her skull or pull her cranium in for a headbutt -- but only managed enough energy for her arms to hang limply on Juri's shoulders as she lost grip of her weapons. Her cheeks flushed more and more crimson as her abused lungs begged for air. Her corset -- already of iffy design all by itself -- finally gave out under the blows, her breasts now open to the world as the laces unraveled and the cups fell away. But still that odd smile remained.
Starting to finally feel give in the frost, Juri changed tacks. Bringing back her arms, but entwining her legs around the angel's so she still could not escape the pin, Juri freed her forearms from each other with a strong tug. Although they were still covered in a decent amount of ice, it only helped as she began her assault on the angel's face and chest.
The angel shook and trembled as the blows rained down on her. Sweat, tears, and blood flew with every strike that snapped her skull in another direction. Her spittle, now mixed with a generous red tinge due to fists mashing lips against teeth, dripped down to add more splatters of color to the welts forming on her breasts. Finally gaining enough breath to make sound, the air was soon filled with her gasps, grunts and moans.
Wait one second.
Something was off here.
Shaking off the last traces of melting ice, Juri Han clutched the angel by her hair to keep her in place as she more closely examined her prey. Juri's foe positively radiated warmth; her flush skin hot enough to entertain the thought of the sweat flowing down her form just turning to steam instead. She was still panting heavily, her tongue lolling out of her mouth, long after she should have been able to regain her wind. And she still had that silly, catty grin. Noticing that the assault had stopped, the angel slowly raised her half-lidded eyes and spoke.
"Why did you stop?"
Oh. It was going to be that kind of deal.
Juri thought the situation over, as the angel shivered and squirmed in her grasp. On one hand, free meal. On the other, it was just not as fun without resistance. Where was the challenge, the rush of victories taken and spirits conquered?
Oh well. It would be a nice diversion, at least.
Juri left the angel a parting knee to her crotch before letting go, stepping back, and allowing her to slide down the training dummy.
She sat there clutching her nethers, little mewls escaping her gritted teeth. After Juri was sure that she had recovered, and had moved on to other interests in the area, she finally spoke up.
"Pretty gutsy for a girl like you to wear wings like that."
Having regained her attention, the angel focused back on Juri and smiled. Leaning forward, going down on all fours, she crept through the mud towards Juri.
"Yes, Master. I need to be punished."
She crept low to the ground, to the point that her breasts occasionally brushed against the slime below her. What remained of her frilly white dress quickly degenerated into a filthy wreck as she slithered on.
"Tease me. Call me names. Hurt me. Throw me down and beat me like the animal I am."
Stopping at Juri's feet, she placed her forehead against the wet ground as if in worship.
"Use me, Master, as hard and rough as you can. I am yours to break."
After a moment of thought, Juri placed one foot on the angel's head. With just a little push, she forced the angel's face down into the mud and watched her quiver with joy.
The angel said something, despite being muffled by the mud, but not much was really needed to recognize barks.
"Bad, bad dog."
"Is this what passes for honorable combat with you?"
Juri released her foothold from the angel and looked around for the origin of this new voice. Whoever it was must have quite a set of lungs; nothing should be so booming in an area as wide open as here.
"Or is this just for when you think no one is watching?"
Now ready to properly track the voice, Juri quickly pinpointed the source. A few yards off, standing on the "head" of one of the training dummies, was... was...
...was a main course.
She stood tall, arms crossed and resolute. Her sense of balance must have been impeccable, considering the awkwardness of her traditional wooden sandals. Her lion's mane of hair and her tattered jacket long enough to double as a cape billowed impressively, despite a lack of wind. While her lower body was apparently clothed as an afterthought -- with ratty pants and a literal rope for a "belt" -- her torso up was revealed to the world, with nothing besides her jacket and bandage wraps for coverage. Not that she had anything to hide; with muscles as well built as that, it was a marvel that she bothered with clothes at all.
She gazed down at Juri with obvious contempt, the one visible eye actually glowing red. This was it. This was it. This was a catch.
"Stay, girl", Juri managed to mumble as she left the angel behind and walked towards her new target. She could always get back to that one. Later.
"I know of your kind, whelp. You seek not challenges, but conquests. You search for victims instead of rivals."
The new woman stepped off her perch and fell to the ground, stiff-legged and unmoving. She landed perfectly on her feet, and the dirt around her caved in slightly despite how small the drop really was.
"Today you will receive none of those. I am Daidoji, and I am here to show you the true power of a shinobi."
As usual, Juri waited for her opponent to make the first move.
Soon it became obvious that this Daidoji character had much the same idea. Hell, she hadn't even uncrossed her arms yet.
Alright, fair enough. Juri wasn't averse to taking the lead in a relationship.
Juri closed in and went for a straight kick to test her opponent's reaction time. Results were... inconclusive.
As the blow was about to connect Daidoji puffed out her chest, and Juri was flung back by... something. It was not wind. It was not a strike, grab, or any type of energy attack she had ever known. It was like Daidoji's sheer force of will was for one moment made tangible just to punch Juri in the teeth.
Reeling from the blow, Juri regained her footing just in time to see the follow-up coming. An incredibly exaggerated haymaker, complete with a dramatic pause on the windup, it was something Juri could dodge in her sleep.
And dodge she did.
What she didn't escape, though, was the aftermath.
As the fist sailed by her, she has only a moment to begin snarking at her foe before the sonic boom swept her off her feet. And she had not yet touched the ground before the fireball created by collapsing air pockets sent her tumbling away.
"Do you understand the errors you have made?"
Juri Han watched with morbid fascination as the shinobi burst out of the still collapsing fireball, catching hold of one of her legs.
"There is no strength gained living on carrion. There is no such thing as a mighty scavenger."
With a heave Daidoji flung Juri downwards, and the next instant she could recall she was sprawled out in the mud. The shockwave of Daidoji landing next to her popped her back up a bit, allowing the shinobi to grasp her by the chest.
"You prey on the weak, and thus only learn to fight the weak."
Knowing that she needed distance her no matter what, Juri tried to pry open Daidoji's grip with both hands while delivering what kicks she could manage with her dangling legs. Neither option showed much progress.
"I have crashed against the rocks until they crumbled before me. I have pounded my fists upon titans until there was nothing left that they could not break."
Halting for another dramatic pause, Daidoji locked her glowing eyes with Juri's.
Daidoji would have been disappointed at the creature struggling in her grip, but she knew from the start that this was not a match. This was an example to be made. Parasites like these were a step below the youma she hunted, and were made all the more vile by their deliberate choice to become what they were.
Her eyes still locked with her opponent's, Daidoji drew back her one free hand in preparation for the finishing blow. As it reached the full extent of her readiness her clenched fist began to shake from the tension, creating a faint glow around it as air molecules crashed against each other at devastating speeds.
"I'll carve this into your body, so hell will know what sent you! Senran Tiger FIS-"
Daidoji paused her attack as she felt someone embrace her from behind. She was not scared for herself; it was just that an innocent so close would have no chance of survival.
Looking back, she saw that the shinobi-in-training this wretch was demeaning had wrapped her arms around Daidoji's stomach.
"Stand back and learn, child."
"Oh, I know enough," the student cooed. "and I can't let you harm my Master."
The surrounding air shimmered as a wave of heat pulsed outwards. Daidoji did not have a good enough vantage point to see for sure, but she was certain that the student behind her was now completely nude. It was a trick taught to all shinobi; a specific channeling of body energies, which maximized all offensive capabilities at the expense of any defense and all current attire. Only now did she notice that the student's hands were not empty; the barrels of her reclaimed pistols pointing inward at her senior.
"Ultimate Ninja Art...", the student began.
She knew that it was too late now, and that the following moments were going to be excruciating. But, at least, she knew that her captive could not possibly live through such an event. Happy for that much, she turned back forward for a parting word to...
...the purple top in her hand, the undone straps still swaying slightly from their master's withdrawal.
Juri was not sure how far was a safe distance. The answer, apparently, was "nowhere".
Knowing better now than to trust her footing, Juri dove to the ground the moment she felt the air begin to change. It was not the best sensation to have her now bare chest pressed against the mud, but it certainly beat possible vaporization.
She was facing away from the spectacle, but more than enough was reflected off the scenery and even sky itself to get a good enough grasp on it. The world flickered between blue and red, blotting out any other color by sheer magnitude alone. Her top, now smoldering with unusually patriotic sparks, blew past her and wrapped itself around the one of the few training dummies still standing. She'd have to remember to retrieve it later. It seemed like ages that Juri lied there, waiting for everything to stop exploding, but eventually the show fizzled to a stop. When she was absolutely sure that the moment had passed Juri rose to her feet and turned around, expecting to find a crater and nothing else.
She was half right.
There was a crater. But in the direct center of it stood two figures.
The first, Juri's new pet angel, was completely nude. Apparently spent, she had ceased giving off energy and dropped her weapons, now only clutching the second figure from behind.
The second, of course, was Daidoji. Still standing tall. Still unmarked. The only difference now being that most of her clothing having been torn away, the only survivor being her jacket-coat.
"You..." she said, glaring at Juri.
"You..." she repeated, glaring back at the angel.
"W...why..." she finished, dropping to her knees.
What a stupid question.
As Juri made her way down the crater, she motioned for her angel pet to hoist Daidoji back to her feet. Taking more glee in the act than healthy, she cupped the fallen shinobi's breasts in each palm and used them as leverage to keep her standing.
Daidoji was awoken from her nap by a series of slaps across the face. Greeted by the parasite in front of her and the student behind her, memories of what had happened came flooding back.
"Why?" She asked again, her voice now lacking the thunder it once had.
"Because I can", Juri shot back, followed by a fist to the jaw.
"Not you... the other one. Why save your torturer?"
"Master hurts me because I ask for it", the angel replied from behind her. "And she's so good! I couldn't ask for someone better!"
Daidoji's mind was reeling. Not just because of what she had just been through, either. She was no stranger to pain -- it was almost an artform if training hard enough, in fact -- but to actively seek it out by itself? To be tortured, humiliated, and broken for fun?
"How could you... enjoy this?"
"Well I don't know about you, pet..." Juri butted in, tracing a finger around Daidoji's lips, "...but I think she's asking for a lesson. Care to help me teach the senior?"
"Master... I'd love to."
They worked in tandem: Juri provided the pain, and the angel provided the pleasure.
Juri at first only watched as the angel "revved her up", kneading Daidoji's breasts between her fingers. Obviously she was very resistant at first; but she was still too weak to put up any kind of fight, and attention like that can only go on for so long before the body reacts all on its own. As Daidoji's cheeks began to redden with more than rage, and her nipples hardened between tweaking fingers, Juri leaned in to wrap her hands around the shinobi's throat.
Slowly, but firmly, she began closing Daidoji's windpipe. The shinobi's original gasp upon realizing what was happening was quickly cut short into pitiful sputters, and Juri watched as her angry eyes gradually began to cloud. She made sure to let up and give her air occasionally, though. She was far from through with her new toy, and like most good things the best place to be was tottering on the edge.
For Daidoji herself, things from the point that Juri started choking her were... fuzzy. Fuzzy, but not entirely unpleasant. It was if she had floated out of her body, leaving behind every sensation but ghostly waves of pleasure that rolled over her from a source she knew but just couldn't place.
When the clouds parted she was on her knees, apparently allowed to fall by her captors. She was given little time for respite, though, since as soon as Juri could tell that Daidoji was fully "there" she kneeled down herself and began pumping fists into Daidoji's gut.
Daidoji was better suited for this than most, her amazingly toned abs being able to soak up a great deal of punishment, but they were eventually no match for Juri's enhancements and persistence. As Daijoji felt her insides churn, fingers laced through her hair and pulled her head back. It was then that the angel, leaning over her, locked her into a full kiss from above.
The angel's tongue explored her mouth and her one free hand danced across her collarbone as Juri continued to lay into her torso. Her index finger playfully made circles in the indentation at the base of her throat, further rousing aches from the strangulation she had just come out of. As Juri finished up with a series of extra hard blows, their piston-power causing bile to rise to her mouth, the angel seized her head with both hands and went as deep as she could into the kiss. As she pulled away, leaving Daidoji to sit there panting, strings of saliva fell back down onto her upturned face.
She felt the angel's breasts brush against her back as she sat down behind her. Lightly, teasingly, the angel's hands snaked around her aching midsection and plunged between her legs.
At this point Daidoji was more ready than she wanted to let on -- much more, in fact -- and reacted immediately to the probing. Her thick, muscular thighs closed upon the hands like a vice, as if trying with all their might to pull in even more. Her hips began to rise up and down, riding the pulses of pleasure shooting through her body. She even couldn't help but let a small moan escape, right before Juri clutched her by the scalp and sent a knee into her face.
Juri was not nearly as fast in this assault as the others, allowing Daidoji's vision to clear of fireworks and mostly recall what was happening before the next blow. The result was constant throbs of pleasure, punctuated by peaks of literally brain-jarring sensations that enhanced every input for a brief moment. She could feel herself getting closer, but not quite there yet. There just wasn't enough.
It was on the next blow, where her nose was broken, that finally did it. The jolt of pain finally put her over the edge, and the sickening crunch was all but drowned out by her shriek as she convulsed in agonizing bliss.
Passing out for a moment, Daidoji awoke to Juri cupping her face in her hands.
"Now..." Han cooed "...do you get it?"
Daidoji always prided herself in being an unrelenting tide, a force of nature which could beat on any obstruction until it crumbled and gave way. But what happens to a wave that travels so far it reaches land? Was there any shame in it falling and breaking against the shore? Was it wrong to fail against the truly impossible? Was it an issue to wring whatever good could be had out of that final, unforgiving defeat?
"Y-yes..." Daidoji replied, almost in a whisper. "...Master."
Juri let go of Daidoji, letting her fall back into the mud with a pitiful slosh. It was done. She was completely broken. This day just could not get any better.
"Did I do good, Master?" the angel asked as she hugged Juri's leg.
All of a sudden, an idea came to Juri. A wicked, awful idea.
Maybe this day could get better.
"You sure did!", Juri replied to her loyal pet. "Maybe a little too well, in fact."
"Too... good?" the angel inquired, her head tilting to the side quizzically.
"You see, I have two pets now." Juri began, shaking the angel off in order to take a few steps back. "I only ever wanted one."
The angel's eyes widened with realization, and Juri gleefully exploited her enhanced reflexes to remain a hair's breadth away from her pleading grasp.
"I'm a good pet, Master. I haven't let you down. I'll do anything you want. A-anything a-at all."
It was at this point that she began to break down, words gushing out through pauses in sobs.
"I need you, Master. You're my life, Master. Please don't leave me. Please don't leave me!"
"Whoah, hold on there." Juri finally replied. "There's an easy way to prove you're the best pet."
"T-there is?" the angel, asked, wiping her eyes of tears.
"Sure thing! What I want is the strongest, toughest pet. All you have to do is defeat your competition."
"D-didn't I already do that?"
"Noooo..." Juri chided, wagging a finger at the angel, "you did not. the fact that there is another pet still proves it."
The shoe having dropped, the angel's mismatched eyes narrowed to slits as realization dawned across her face.
"I understand now."
Dropping the four-legged act and pushing herself up, she turned to find that her "rival" Daidoji had regained consciousness and had blearily risen to her feet herself. That was not going to last long.
"I am the best pet."
Daidoji was far too busy regathering her wits to eavesdrop on the conversation, so it came as a complete surprise to her when the angel tackled her back down into the mud. The angel mounted her pelvis-to-pelvis, but whatever pleasure she could get out of the situation was quickly overidden as the angel began slashing away.
Still missing her pistols, all the angel had for weapons were what she was born with. And, in her fit of bestial rage, she took to using her "claws".
Daidoji began to scream as the angel's hands, which had just so recently lifted her into the previously-unknown peaks, now tore ragged lines across her skin. She attempted to raise her arms to protect herself, but the angel merely used them as leverage for a headbutt and Daidoji once again fell back defenseless. As the blood pooled in her coat and soaked into the ground, Daidoji's struggles began to wane. This was partially because of shock, but also --rather alarmingly -- the shinobi could feel herself begin to ascend again. With her interpretations of pain and pleasure so recently linked, the horrifying tortures of her impending murder were also feeding her an equivalent surge of bliss.
Through with tearing Daidoji to ribbons, the angel clasped the sides of the shinobi's head. Daidoji only had a moment to parse this before the angel's thumbs pressed through her eyes and deep into the sockets.
Daidoji's shrieks of simultaneous agony and ecstasy were now deafening, but did not last for long. This was because the angel lowered her head, clasped the shinobi's throat in her jaws, and bit down.
With a grisly rip the angel threw her head back, arterial blood splattering the both of them as Daidoji's throat came with her. Daidoji's whole body arched -- rising to meet her murderer as she reached climax for the last time -- then fell back, spent. Her final, unheard words -- mouthed silently as she faded -- were simply "more" over and over.
The angel finally began to calm down, mounted on the cooling body of her former "rival". She brought her blood-soaked hand up to her mouth, still filled with the meat of her victim. Furrowing her brow and closing her eyes, she forced herself to swallow. She gagged a little at first, but after it all went down she leaned back and let out a sigh of relief.
For a moment Juri didn't know what to do when the angel turned towards her, perched upon the corpse of her "opponent" and drenched in equal measures with mud and viscera. When she snapped out of the trance, she quickly realized that her pet was waiting on her input.
After a brief pause, Juri brought her hands up and gave the angel a golf clap.
Such a good day.
The angel shook in excitement as Master secured her down. They had relocated to a nearby road for her "victory lap", so that they had a much more solid patch of ground to freeze her limbs to. Master was so interested about her guns, she couldn't help but teach her all about them. After all, more tools to be used!
With the final binding done, Master stood over her from above. "Are you ready for some fun, pet?"
She was. Oh how much she was.
"Well tough," the Master replied, "because I'm bored now."
The angel's view jerked as Master's foot hit the side of her head at full force, twisting it unnaturally as her neck snapped from whiplash.
The angel tried to look up at her Master, but could not will her head to turn. She tried to ask what she had done wrong, but could not manage a single utterance. She tried to move something, anything, but only found numbness that was rapidly overwhelming what little she had left.
I was the perfect pet she thought to herself, with a single tear managing to squeeze out of her ducts right at the finish line. Master, I was the perfect...
Juri watched the angel from just outside her line of sight, as the pet's twitches diminished steadily into nothingness. She was quite a catch, and it was a bit sad to see her go already, but Juri knew she would not be allowed to move on until everyone else in the area was dead. And that's the trick with masochists; you had to get creative to really mess with them. She wondered if, in her last moments, the angel got the point of a sadist leaving her high and dry like that. Probably not. She didn't seem terribly sharp.
Still, Juri was going to remember this encounter quite fondly for quite some time. It would be a cold day in hell before she ever forgot about Daidoji and...
Did she ever catch the angel's name?