Published: Dec. 1, 2024.
Words: 1,592.
Chapters: 1/1.
Summary:
His cock. Right? It's gone.
And, in the absence of adrenaline with exhaustion rattling at her brain, she's really, really, really curious what that looks like.
Notes:
title taken from leader of the pack by wunderhorse.
On AO3.
His cock.
Right?
Supernatural entities seem to fixate on dicks. Apparently. That isn't knowledge her grandmother passed onto Momo, but maybe Momo's been unlucky in encountering the cock obsessive niche of spirits and aliens. Or maybe it counts as Okarun's poor luck since he's the one screaming as he pats his crotch and looks down his underwear. Momo's bits are all present and accounted for (two breasts, and things feel correct down south when she squeezes her thighs together). He paces the hall outside her bedroom as she leans forward, one palm held up to keep dick-chomping granny subdued. This is a proper freak out from him, and she gets it, but, like--
His cock. Right? It's gone.
And, in the absence of adrenaline with exhaustion rattling at her brain, she's really, really, really curious what that looks like.
"O-ka-run…" She drags out each syllable as she tiptoes forward, carried away by momentum.
He stops and turns to her. "Ayase-san…?"
Unsubtle, straightforward, but Momo still comes out on top because she takes action while Okarun pauses in his penis-bereft grief to gape like an idiot when she hauls him into her room and tosses him onto her bed. She splays out a hand, palm down, on his abdomen (and oh, touch does make it easier to compartmentalize the portion of her focus containing his curse). His stomach rises and falls, and she can feel the way air stutters through him.
From between his legs, Momo kneels and stares up at his face from across the horizon of his body. "Hey, Okarun," she says, soft and lilting. "You'll let me have a look, right?"
He makes a choked noise of confusion.
"I wanna see," she says. Her palm slides down a perilous centimeter.
Dots slowly connect, and Okarun does not light up in shy acceptance like she hopes. No. The stupid nerd has to be a bastard about it.
"No! Why the hell would I let you?!"
"Because there's nothing to see! It's gone!"
"Exactly, so why do you even want to look?! Ugh–"
Idiot pushes back against her hand and forces her to resume a cooperative position with a burst of psychic energy.
"For science," Momo says, waving her free hand idly. "Or whatever. A spirit stole your dick. We should record that knowledge for your occult mags! Maybe you could get on the cover. 'High Schooler Cries Nightly For His Stolen Weenie! Turbo Granny Refuses to Comment!'"
"I'd–rather not." He grits the refusal out. "And it–wouldn't be…appropriate for a publication–ugh–about UFOs and…UAPs."
"What a waste. Dicknapped, but not by an alien granny."
"Ayase-san--" Her name wheezes out on the tail end of a breath, and his next sentence loses itself completely in the strain as he tries to fight past her psychic hand.
"Hmm? You need to speak up so I can hear you, Okarun."
"Let…me…go…"
Such an effort to voice his demand. Such an annoying, annoying effort that Momo rewards with slamming him back down against her bed.
"Don't be such a scrooge!"
A garbled, strangled noise in response. (Definitely still arguing.)
"I'm the only one that will ever appreciate the feat of supernatural science your dicknapping is, so c'mon, c'mooon, lemme see!"
This reply is no more intelligible than before and sounds just as, if not more, defiant. (No need for Momo to feel guilty then.)
"Fine, be like that. Go home and cry because a girl saw your Ken-Doll crotch."
Because that's what it'll be. No cock, right? So then nothing. Okarun's squirming and panicking like a chump, like the biggest question won't be how he'll piss in the meantime. She just wants a peek, a little one, boxers down then back up. No harm, no foul. Okarun barely even looked when he began shrieking out in the hallway. It's up to Momo to investigate and appreciate the marvel of spiritually stealing a penis.
She gapes a little, fingers stuck in the hem of Okarun's boxers where she dragged them up his thighs.
Her concentration slips enough to let Okarun actually breathe. "Ayase-san…"
"Yeah."
"You've looked." Both his legs have ended up over her shoulder, and the heels of his feet dig into her back as he speaks. "You're done now."
"Yeah."
"Can you please let me go," he says. Not a request really, but a demand soaked in pleading. "Ayase-san, please."
Momo extends an experimental finger to test the reality her eyes see. Slow, slow, slow--and warm flesh sits under the tip of her finger, Okarun jolting as she touches the lip of his cunt. She draws her finger up through dark pubic hair and then back along the edges. Okarun seizes up under her delicate touch, so sensitive already, and what would it be like if she--
"--se-san! Ayase-san! Ayase-san, stop!"
She makes a noise of "yep, I heard you, and it all went out the other ear." What comes out of Okarun's northern mouth is subsumed by the mere existence of his southern one. This is definitely a new development. (Or Okarun hid a secret pussy his whole life? That doesn't terribly plausible, but it is a terribly intriguing scenario.) It seems so authentic, so enticingly warm.
"Maybe," she whispers, leaned in close, and Okarun yelps her name in confused alarm because maybe, maybe, maybe she can be as slow and precise in spreading his cunt open wide. Wet heat invites her in deeper, and all that withholds her curiosity is how Okarun's body locks up and he muffles his cries.
"Wh-what are…what are you doing, Ayase-san…?" he asks, breathy and faint and with Momo holding his cunt open between her index and middle fingers.
"You don't know?"
"No!"
She huffs a laugh, a sigh. "You really don't know?"
"No! I already said I don't! Ayase-san, come on, this--"
He babbles on past that, each word shoved out on the heels of the last, crescendoing in desperation because something is wrong and something is being kept from him, but Momo's a poor listener. She's got his cries set aside as the side dish they are to the main course under her fingers. Probably would be better if she filled Okarun in on his pussy situation, but Ayase-san has been through a load of bullshit and a half because of him, so Ayase-san can indulge just a little more.
There is an odd appeal in the juxtaposition of his ignorance and how tempting the soft, pink insides of his cunt looks. Her psychic palm pins him to her bed, and he lays there, vulnerable and clueless, and only Momo has felt the heat of his cunt. She's touching him, touching a part of him he doesn't know exists. She shifts, relieves a building pressure below, and loses the fight against probably being a little too mean.
(Yes, a little too mean, but she really, really, really wants to see how he reacts. A once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. For science, but mostly for her.)
He doesn't scream or yell when she plunges half of a finger into him without preamble. With how sensitive he'd seemed, she expected him to be thankfully-no-else-is-home loud. No, instead, he arches up from the sheer sensation and makes a strangled sound like a scream pitched too high for a human. His voice is scratchy, breathless as he calls her name before derailing into what she can inarguably dub a moan. She pushes the rest of her finger inside him, and it's so real, so warm, so wet.
She licks her lips, squeezes her thighs, and as she withdraws her finger, she positions another alongside it to slam they both back in. Very little finesse to the process, but it doesn't matter when the mere feeling of having something inside of the cunt he doesn't know he has is sending Okarun over the edge of coherency. He's babbling again, fragments of sentences interspersed with begging and her name. His feet hit her back as she spasms on one rough thrust; his hands alternate between clawing useless at her bed and covering his face, glasses askew.
Neither of them notice that her control over her powers slips and slips, and neither of them are lucid enough to care. Momo drills two fingers into Okarun's wet cunt, and Okarun lets her do it, sobbing and helpless. He trips over a cry of her name, moaning, and if she had just a bit less presence of mind, she could let her free hand creep down, but no, that's different. Very different.
Yeah. Extremely different to be fingering the pussy of a boy she met the other day versus her getting off to it.
She'll just be careful to preserve the memory of him spasming on her fingers, finally pushing back instead of keeping up the dead fish act. He still doesn't know, still doesn't understand, but he's got his hands spread over his red face and his hips twitch back toward her. She digs her fingers in deep, her palm grinding flush against his cunt.
"Ayase-san!"
He comes on a cry of her name, on her fingers buried in him. Her own breath comes out stuttered and heady, and she watches rapt as she pulls her fingers from him dripping. He gives a weak groan at the stimulation. (It takes a moment of restraint for Momo to not see what other sounds she can wring from him yet.)
And they both go quiet, unmoving.
Momo looks down at her glistening fingers.
Yeah. His cock is gone for sure.