An absolute labour of love. A joint creation between myself and @deliciousorangeart​ who’d originally commissioned me to write this story, but it evolved far beyond just a commission as I wrote more and more and eventually became so attached to the character.This is an opus of mine, a monumental short story, or at least it was at the time. I owe this story a lot in terms of gaining confidence in my skills and pushing my boundaries as a story teller.

Miyako’s sandals splashed against the steps to the temple of Inari as the rain fell around her. She clutched tightly at her umbrella and the fox-like ears atop her head folded back in discomfort as the wind grew stronger. The miko could sense a shift in the air. Being caught out in the rain just as she was almost finished her chores for the day was not a good omen.

With a tired sigh, the shrine maiden swiftly made her way up the steps; she hadn’t managed to get under an umbrella quickly enough, and as a result her white robes and red skirt clung wetly to her body. She’d have to change when she got in lest she catch a cold. She was no use to the shrine sick.

The shrine was her home, after all; it was her only place of purpose. There was a time when she wanted to be an exorcist for the temple, helping those in need against unholy spirits. It was her dream; she trained for the art extensively. When the head monk had finally given in to her incessant requests, Miyako had proven herself unfit for the task of exorcism, instead having been shamefully haunted by the spirit she had been meant to cast out. Since then, Miyako had regrettably come to terms that her dreams would never come true and hid her shame now from her fellow brothers and sisters.

The Kitsune spirit that haunted her did not much care for the rain either, but it did admit that the way it forced Miyako’s clothes to her body so tightly was rather fetching. It wouldn’t be difficult to attract the gaze of the monks looking as she did and that gave the spirit a measure of comfort, much to Miyako’s dismay. She didn’t want anyone ogling her; the Kitsune-ki made her very aware when she’d caught a man’s gaze. It was a strange, lustful sensation and ashamed as she was to admit it, she quite enjoyed it. But Miyako was chaste, in no way could she offer herself to a man, even if she so desired… or so she believed.

At that moment, Miyako had been lost in her own thoughts, her fingers idly playing with the suzu bell she’d tied to her neck. It gave her small comfort as her cheeks flushed from whatever lewd whispers the spirit might have been sharing. Lost in the clouds as she was, Miyako failed to notice the young man sitting on the steps in front of her.

“Pardon me?” The man called, coaxing a startled squeak from Miyako. The young man, a monk not from her temple Miyako noticed, laughed with a wince in response and Miyako swiftly drew her fox ears back, hiding them in her hair.

“My apologies, Miko.” The monk seemed to pause before continuing, his pleasant smile wavering for a moment. “These are the steps to the temple of Inari, am I correct?” Miyako found the monks tone almost too polite, even obsequious.

“Yes, brother. The temple to Inari lies just ahead. Is there something I can help you with?” Miyako twirled her umbrella idly, looking the monk over as she spoke; he was a large and, while the rain and his wide brimmed hat made it difficult for her to get a clear view of his face, rather handsome looking fellow. He was leaning against a staff, likely his walking stick, with both hands.

“I was passing through the region and happened to be looking for shelter for the night.” The monk began. “I need only a place to rest and eat. You see, I just happened to assist with an exorcism nearby, and while the townsfolk were pleased to have the matter dealt with, my lack of coin didn’t seem to please their innkeeper.” A wandering exorcist, Miyako thought, how romantic. Perhaps, if she could catch him alone for a moment, he could help her with her own predicament.

“That hardly seems fair!” Miyako murmured. “Perhaps… I’ll speak to the head monk inside. Surely we could make some space for you!” Her voice was chipper and sweet; the poor soul was drenched to the bone and likely starving, she couldn’t simply ignore that. The monks smile widened and there was something about that smile that sent a slight flutter in her belly.

“Thank you, Miko. I am brother Ichirou. Might I ask who I am speaking with?” The monk bowed, his pleasant tone never wavering.

“Miyako.” She bowed in return. “Miyako Ayamori. And this temple is my home. I’m sure you’ll be more than welcome.”

Ichirou made an attempt to stand, putting all his weight on his staff, but winced once more and lost his balance. Miyako was forced to drop her umbrella to try and catch him and found herself nestled deeply in his solid chest. It seemed she could add wounded to the list as well.

The way her kimono clung tightly, Miyako’s breasts squished pleasantly against the vagabond. The spirit triumphantly noted a pang of desire in her heart and her fox ears peeked shyly past her hair. Miyako held on to him for longer than she’d care to admit before the wandering monk cleared his throat.

“Would you like some help making your way up the steps?” Miyako asked, her voice shaky and nervous. She hastily shifted herself to a far less intimate position, curling against his side to help him upright. The fox teased her still about how even now her curves clung sweetly to his body. If Ichirou noticed however, he chose to ignore it.

“I don’t want to be a bother.” Ichirou sighed defeatedly. “But I would really appreciate it.”

The head monk had been kind enough to lend Ichirou the use of the temple’s shed to rest. A lamp and futon were prepared for him and Miyako was instructed to assist him with any needs he may have. Miyako, hoping to catch a moment with her guest, carried with two servings of tofu for them to split and enough warm sake to make him feel welcome.

Perhaps with his help she could rid herself of the Kitsune-ki and return to her exorcist training after all. The thought alone brought a warm tingle in her chest. The fox, however, was not so pleased.

Miyako opened the door to the shed and as she walked in, the miko managed to catch her first proper glimpse of Ichirou. His chest was bare, his tattered samue at his side, and he had already begun dressing the wounds he had recently earned with the bandages the temple had offered him. She knew he was strong from when she’d held him close, but she never would have guessed what lay beneath his loose monk robes.

He was, for a lack of a better word, gorgeous. A paragon of discipline and strength, Miyako thought. His flesh was tempered steel; a body trained to perfection. White scars laced his muscled skin, a masterpiece that painted his exploits as an exorcist and a warrior. The sight of them made her lips ache; she was certain there was a story behind each one and Miyako wanted to hear them all. What could have happened to this man for him to lead such a lonely and dangerous life?

Miyako bit at her lush, bottom lip, her mouth salivating, and her fox ears perked instantly; it seemed the fox was rather smitten with him as well. The room was silent, save for the sound of the heavy rain outside.

“Hello?” Brother Ichirou called out, reaching slowly for his staff as he fixed his gaze on her. When Miyako realised that her body had reacted so naturally, she drew her ears back beneath her hair. She knew, though, there was nothing that she could do about the crimson in her cheeks and the flushing in her chest.

“I apologise for the accommodations.” Miyako stammered with a bow. “It was the best we could do on such short notice.” The miko approached her guest, placing their meal down next to him. She took the moment to appreciate him from up close. How she wanted to brush her lips against those white scars…

“Ah, sister Miyako.” Ichirou smiled, and continued attending to his bandages. That was odd, Miyako thought. Did he not recognise her? The lighting in the dark shed was no worse than it had been outside, if anything the lamps she’d lit in preparation made it better. Miyako had little time to dwell on it however, distracted by how poor of a job Ichirou was doing in bandaging himself.

“You’re doing that wrong…” Miyako noted, taking a step closer to examine the work he’d already done.

“I’ve been dressing my own wounds for some time now.” The monk replied almost irritably. It appeared he did not enjoy having his work criticized.

“Then you’ve been doing it wrong.” Miyako stood her ground, trying not to add further insult, but simply stating fact. “Here, allow me.” She offered. She didn’t want to be a bother, but at the same time the shrine maiden didn’t want for his wounds to get worse.

“Oh.” Ichirou reflected and with a soft sigh he nodded and unwrapped his bandages. “Well, alright.” He placed the bandages by his side and sat rigidly, waiting for Miyako to begin. Eagerly, the miko knelt by his side and eyed him carefully, her ears twitching from beneath their hiding place. Her fingers brushed near his inflamed wounds, for medical purposes of course, and with cautious care slowly began dressing and wrapping the monk.

To have her hands once again on his powerful form was exciting. Nearly intoxicating. Her fingers would absent-mindedly trace one of his scars here or there, her face flushing as his muscles seemed to relax beneath her touch. Her fox-like ears rose gently from beneath her hair without her knowing, and she began to wonder if wandering monks had the same stigmas as those that stayed in temples.

Were the rigors and disciples any more lax? Had Ichirou ever been with a woman proper? The thought of his taut frame stripping a woman voluntarily of her purity made her heart flutter. Such fates were not for her, but it didn’t mean she could keep from fantasizing. Her body was pressing closely against his. Her clothes suddenly felt so very restricting in his presence and she felt a peculiar warmth where her fox ears rested. Miyako sensed the fox grinning within her.

Miyako could feel the red in her cheeks. She pulled away at once, her bandaging complete, and nervously began toying with the bell against her neck. The warmth atop her head suddenly vanished but she knew that she quickly needed to distract herself.

The food!

"H-how about something to eat.” Miyako swiftly rose to her feet and scurried to fetch their meals. “Here, you must be starved. It may not be much but it should sate your appetite.”

And then maybe he could sate yours. Miyako chuckled anxiously, her black fox ears tucked far back as she tried to ignore the spirit. She had to keep her eye on the objective; she needed the fox gone. Her career as an exorcist depended on it.

Miyako handed the wandering monk his share of tofu and he tried to keep a modicum of composure, barely uttering his thanks and a short prayer before devouring the food in front of him.

Ichirou was ravenous. The miko wondered briefly when the last time he’d eaten may have been.

Miyako, however, hardly touched her tofu. Instead she poured herself a cup of warm sake as Ichirou ate. And then another. Her nerves were rattled and she was afraid the suzu bell wouldn’t be enough to calm her. The fox cooed appreciatively; Miyako might not have shared many of the spirit’s interests, but at least they both enjoyed sake.

"Sister Miyako, thank you again for your gracious hospitality” Ichirou rested the empty bowl by his side with a hollow ‘clack’ and bowed. “You sound nervous, though. You haven’t even touched your food.” The monk asked, concerned and Miyako replied with only silence, the suzu bell rolling between her fingers. “If my presence offends I could relieve you of your duties-”

“Hardly!” Miyako interrupted with a forced smile and her was voice louder than she thought it would be. The fox laughed. Tell him you’re nervous because you think he’s beautiful, the fox said. Tell him you want to kiss every hardened curve of his body. Tell him you’d like to see what kind of staff he’s really carrying. The fox’s whispers made her blush furiously; it was all wonderfully true and Miyako was finding it hard to tell where the fox’s temptations ended and her own fantasies began.

She grabbed at her suzu bell and shook it again to try and calm herself. She hoped that she wasn’t coming off as mad.

“I keep hearing that bell of yours. Sister, is something the matter?” The concern in Ichirou’s voice was clear, but the way he spoke made Miyako furrow her brow; why did he keep talking like that? In terms of ‘sounds’ and ‘hears’ instead of ‘seems’ and ‘sees’? Then something occurred to her; he hadn’t noticed when she walked in at first, despite the room being so clearly lit, and even seemed on edge until she spoke. Was he…

“Brother Ichirou.” Miyako blinked, looking the monk over closely. How had she not realised it at first? “Forgive me for prying, but… are you blind?”

Ichirou chuckled.

“So you’ve found me out.” He smiled with a nod and Miyako finally managed a good look at his eyes. She’d been avoiding his gaze until now out of politeness, but when she stared she noticed an almost glassy quality to his brown eyes. “And rather quickly I might add. People often don’t realise it at all. I’m often better at hiding my nature, but there’s something about you…”

The knowledge freed her: Not only did Ichirou also have a secret he kept from people, but for the first time in what felt like an eternity she was allowed to relax and be herself. After all, what would a blind man care if she let her ears out? Her posture loosened noticeably and her ears popped from beneath their hiding place as she she poured them both something to drink.

While the news had made her more relaxed, it also made her far more curious about her guest.

“If I may be so bold,” Miyako offered him his cup, “being a blind monk likely explains all those scars. I think I would very much like to hear some of the stories those scars have to tell.”

And, kindly, Ichirou did. He shared as Miyako laughed and drank, and for a while he managed to make her forget all about her problems. With his blindness putting her at ease the shrinemaiden felt more comfortable than she had in a long time and before long she had already finished most of the sake.

By the end she’d forgone her cup, instead gripping loosely at the neck of the bottle and bringing it to her pretty, pink lips. Her slim throat bulged with each greedy gulp that she took as the vagabond shared his stories. Every now and then she’d run her fingers against his bandaged chest over a particular scar and ask about it. Sometimes the stories were exciting, others bittersweet, but every time Miyako inched closer. The more she touched, the more he told. And the more she drank, the more she touched.

It came to the point where she almost knew everything there was to know about Ichirou. Everything except the more important questions…

“Do you like it?” Miyako asked bluntly, swirling the nearly empty sake bottle.

“Like what?” Ichirou clucked with a shake of his head. He wasn’t entirely sure if it was Miyako or the sake talking at this point.

“The road.” The miko sighed with a grin, her head in the clouds. All his tales of adventure made her heart soar with a wanderlust she’d long since kept locked away.

“It sounds so wonderful; leaving to explore the world. To help people in need.” Miyako wondered, if she left on her own journey would people one day be telling stories of her exploits?

“Honestly.” Ichirou took a moment to think her question over. “It’s… not as great as you think it is. You might be romanticising the situation.”

“It’s actually rather lonely, to be honest. Few people truly welcome you and life at the temple has made it difficult to associate with people outside of it. And the roads are so empty…” Ichirou took a deep breath and rubbed anxiously against the back of his neck.

“If I may, this is actually the most fun I’ve had in a long, long time.” The admission made the monk shift nervously in place. Miyako felt her heart race. She was… fun?

No matter how lonely Ichirou may have been on his travels, at least he had been allowed to be himself. Ever since her tragically failed exorcism, Miyako had even been denied that luxury. Ostracized in her own home. True, she’d been the one playing hermit, but that didn’t make the truth any less painful.

But nevertheless, Ichirou actually enjoyed her company. She was fun.

“You know,” Miyako slurred, clearing her throat, a sweet smile crossing her lips. “I always wanted to be an exorcist.”

“Oh?” Ichirou raised one brow quizzically. “Did the training become too much for you?”

“Hah!” The miko scoffed, throwing her hand up in the air and knocking her kimono loose. “Hardly. The head priest says that my affinity with the spirit world is shocking and beyond that my archery skills are excellent.”

“It sounds as though you have the makings of an excellent spirit hunter.” Ichirou smiled warmly, it made Miyako’s heart skip a beat. “So then, tell me, what’s stopping you?”

His question pierced her like an arrow. Finally Miyako had reached her destination. It was now or never. She only wished she hadn’t drank so much sake.

Just as Ichirou had, Miyako took a moment to choose her words carefully.

“I tried, once. I’d begged my teacher to let me out on an exorcism alone.” The memories stirred, raw in the back of her mind. “I made a mistake. A very poor one.” The shrinemaiden ran her fingers through her long, silky black hair and shivered as tips brushed against her sensitive fox ears.

“I don’t know if I can go back. Not…” Miyako took a slow, shaky breath to try and calm herself. “Not without help. Your help. Specifically.”

“You need to look to yourself for answers. You can’t merely let a single mistake end your career. No matter how grave you think this error may have been, if you’re truly passionate about being an exorcist you can overcome it.” Ichirou clucked, shaking his head. “Honestly, I’m not sure what I can do for you, sister, that you can’t do for yourself.”

He wasn’t going to help her. Not without knowing what she was. The thought was sobering. This was more than a matter of forgiveness and self growth; Miyako was a monster, plain and simple. He didn’t understand. How could he?

She would make him understand.

“I can’t move forward from this without your help, and I’ll show you why.” Miyako nearly growled, wrapping her hand behind Ichirou’s neck and pulling him into a harsh kiss. It was impossible for Ichirou not to enjoy the sensation of the shrinemaiden’s soft sensuous lips as they pressed against his and he relished in their fullness. She didn’t stop with the kiss however; out from her lips reached a long, thick tongue that parted Ichirou’s own.

She filled his mouth, her long, silky tongue slithering pleasantly, and Miyako’s intimate forwardness made Ichirou’s body tense, his breath turning sharp. Eventually the monk’s body loosened and Ichirou managed to surprise the miko when he began to return the intimate kiss, carefully wrapping his strong arms around her waist as his own tongue rolled against hers in a desperate attempt to lead it.

Miyako lost herself in the moment. Her eyes fluttered closed as her anger melted away long enough to truly enjoy the kiss. Ichirou was so strong. She felt safe, wrapped in his embrace and for that brief second her possession didn’t seem to matter. Her thick tongue played against his, sending a lustful quiver down her back and she mewled, pressing her lips even harder against his.

Having fun, are we? Miyako’s face flushed deeper as her sake addled mind gained a moment of clarity. His body reacted so naturally to hers, unabashed and unafraid. Was he… enjoying this? Don’t leave this all on him.

The shrinemaiden pulled away, breaking the kiss, and her smooth tongue trailed behind, vacating Ichirou’s mouth before retreating into her own. The sensuality of it all sent a gentle warmth across her body, overlapping with the sake’s tingling, and Miyako shook gently in his embrace as her heartbeat quickened.

“That was a little unexpected.” Ichirou gulped and Miyako actually found him grinning. It made her furious; what sort of reaction was that from a monk? Her lips pulled back in a sneer, baring her teeth as she grabbed at his hands.

“Don’t you understand?” She shouted, her voice catching in her throat. He was supposed to be her savior! Why was he ignoring her plight?

“I’m a monster!” She led his hands to her fox-like ears to punctuate her statement, forcing him to grip against them, and what came next caught her entirely by surprise.

Pleasure unimaginable washed over her. She shuddered violently and all thought and reason left her. The only thing that filled her mind was Ichirou’s strong grip on her tender ears and how she needed more.

Ichirou didn’t bother pulling away. No, instead his rough, world-weary fingers rolled over their surface. He played gently over them with a measure of experience Miyako would not have expected, rolling his fingers over the soft, black fur of her ears, which in turn made her eyes flutter and her body quiver. She tried to speak, but could only moan lewdly; Ichirou’s teasing was more than she had ever been prepared for. It stoked at an invisible fire in her belly, a foreign sensation that felt impossibly satisfying.

When his strong digits slid against the tender inner ridges of her fox ears something cracked in Miyako’s mind. She choked in an attempt to breath, but with the way her entire body tensed up, her knees quaking, it proved exceptionally difficult. What had he done to her, she thought. Her eyes were saucers, her pupils dilating, and stars gently threatened her vision as Ichirou’s fingers continued, stroking and rubbing at her ears, inside and out.

Tears welled in her eyes and her breathing quickened. Too much. Having her ears teased and played with was overwhelming; she never thought she could feel this good. She gasped sharply and fell forward, her body shaking uncontrollably from the excess rapture. Ichirou released her ears, instead stroking at her hair and Miyako wasn’t sure when it had happened, but her hakama had come undone and her kimono fell open to partly reveal the sheer silk gown of her hadajuban clinging softly to her chest.

“These don’t make you a monster. They’re just one part of a kind young lady who would help a stranger on the temple steps.” Ichirou said, and Miyako didn’t have to look up at him to know he was smiling. She could simply hear it in his voice.

She sat there against his bandaged chest, curling against his muscular form, and whimpered softly as she tried desperately to gain a modicum of composure.

“How are you so good at that?” Miyako asked, her voice weak and quivering. Her legs were still shaking from the whole experience and she was certain that she wouldn’t be able to stand if she tried.

“You think you’re the first Kitsune I’ve dealt with?” Ichirou chuckled, his arms wrapping loosely behind her now, stroking gently at her back to help normalise her breathing. “I’ve handled my fair share of possessed girls trying to seduce me, sister. I know your weaknesses.”

Seduced? The thought made Miyako’s chest pang with jealousy. How many girls had thrown themselves at him in the past? How many had he let get this close… The miko breathed deeply and his masculine scent filled her nostrils; seduction may not have been her intent, but if that’s what he’s thinking why let him down?

“Did any of them succeed?” Miyako pulled back, her hands still resting against his chest. She was partially thankful for his blindness; to see her in this state, her cheeks scarlet, her kimono falling off her shoulders, her hair disheveled, would have been disgraceful. Yet for the very same reasons she wished he could see.

Her question seemed to pierce him and Ichirou gave pause. Miyako closed her eyes and she could feel his heart beat quickening against her palms. She wanted him, like all the other women who’d seduced him before. She sighed sweetly, her eyes fluttering open once more and she could feel the same comforting warmth atop her head as she had when she’d been bandaging him, only this time she didn’t fight it. A gentle, sensuous heat filled her body as she embraced the fire within her and Miyako leaned in close, her lips a hair’s breadth from his ear.

“Tell me, monk.” She whispered, curiosity peppering her words. “Have you ever lain with a woman before?” The question had been eating at her ever since she’d fantasized about it.

“I think that answer should be clear…” Ichirou said, and his own breathing had slowed. Such discipline, Miyako’s lips curled at the edges, if only the poor boy could see what a mess you were, how disciplined would he be then?

Miyako didn’t respond at first, she only gave a throaty chuckle. In her heart she wondered how much the line between her and the fox had become blurred, but that thought quickly passed when her lush lips pressed gently against his bare cheek.

“And yet, I have to ask.” The shrinemaiden grinned and craned her neck so that she could kiss against his. As she moved her head her eyes caught a dancing blue light in her periphery, but Miyako chose to ignore it.

Miyako’s kisses were warm and smooth. They pressed against Ichirou’s skin like the richest silk and every time her lips parted it made him want to shiver, his nerves feeling pleasantly cold. Gooseflesh swiftly covered his body as Miyako began to kiss lower and lower over his neck, eventually leading down to his chest and shoulders.

“Where did all that forwardness you had just a moment ago disappear to?” She asked between kisses and Ichirou finally shivered. Miyako watched his throat bulge as he swallowed and licked at his lips. It was clear that her line of questioning made him uncomfortable; why did he refuse to answer her? His silence and stoicism tried to tell her that he was in control, but his body language betrayed him.

As Miyako kissed, she payed close attention to his scars. Her lush lips pecked sweetly against his ragged flesh and from time to time she’d run her lengthy tongue over the most handsome of his old wounds. She knew their tales; she wanted to show him how much she loved them all.

“Shouldn’t you be stopping me?” Miyako whispered and ran her silky tongue over a particularly lengthy scar over his shoulder. There was an honest quality to the question.

He doesn’t want to stop you. He likes you…

“I know.” Miyako grinned widely, looking Ichirou up and down through a half-lidded, drunken, and lustful gaze. Both Ichirou and the fox froze.

“What do you know?” The strangeness of her comment managed to break Ichirou from his stoic concentration. Had she just replied to the fox? She’d never done that before.

Miyako shook her head and leaned in for another kiss. Her lips met his without any resistance and the shrinemaiden grew bold. She kissed Ichirou again and again, her hands cradling his strong jaw, and she nearly pounced him, toppling the monk down onto his back.

She apologised between quickened pecks when she felt the wounded vagabond wince beneath her and felt a surge of triumph and exultation in her chest when she felt his arms wrap tightly around her slim waist once more. Miyako deepened their passionate kiss once again, her thick tongue parted their lips, and she felt something warm and stiff poke against her hip.

He seems ready…

Her thoughts became hazy as she realised just what had prodded her and she tore away from the kiss panting and grinning madly.

“My, my…” Miyako ground her hip into his and the monk gasped in reply.

“Careful, sister.” Ichirou panted. The manner in which he called her ‘sister’ gave Miyako a brief moment of clarity. She couldn’t do anything rash; Kitsune-ki or no, she was still a pure maiden. Her vows made it very clear that her virginity belonged to the gods she served. Allowing a man inside her sacred folds would break that promise, irrevocably rejecting her right to serve them.

Her vows were however a little fuzzy on certain other matters.

“I still have my wits about me.” She smiled sweetly, leaning to the side and peering down his body. She blinked, stunned at the sight of a swishing fox’s tail fixed to her lower back. It wasn’t a real tail, of course, only an illusion made from spectral flames of the purest blue.

That was new. She began to question the gentle warmth atop her head and reached for one of her black furred ears, only to feel them missing; had they too been replaced by spectral flame?

Miyako thought about asking her blind friend about it for a moment, and quickly realised how silly that sounded and returned to the task at hand. The fox girl crept slowly down Ichirou’s body, her soft curves pressing thoughtlessly against his taut form before she rested comfortably between his legs.

The miko pressed her inexperienced palm against the large bulge in his loose pants and wrapped her fingers around it as best she could. It pulsed through the fabric of his hakama and Miyako’s curiosity got the better of her; she had to see it. She swiftly untied the belt at his waist and lowered the hem of his pants as best she could to reveal the object of her desire.

She’d never seen a man’s genitals before, not knowing much of a life outside the temple. In fact, she’d never really seen another woman’s genitals either. She’d heard of temples that had large hot springs where members of the shrine could bathe together, but her own temple had been limited to the cold streams nearby and heated tubs, so the only person she’d ever really seen naked was herself.

To see a cock up close for the first time felt alien. It flushed darkly and twitched at her touch. Her eyes examined the thick veins that seemed to fill the organ with blood, and she watched, mesmerised, as something milky leaked from the tip.

What was most important, however, was that it smelled delicious; Miyako had always been sensitive to subtle smells and tastes, a feature only enhanced by merging the fox’s keen senses with her own. The shrinemaiden licked hungrily at her lips without realising and closed her eyes, taking a lingering moment to simply savour the smell. She breathed slowly and deliberately and the raw aroma filled her mind completely.

“Itadakimasu…” Miyako moaned before opening her lush lips and letting her long, smooth tongue fall free from her mouth. She ran it’s silky length against the heated flesh of Ichirou’s swollen cock and the taste alone sent a sharp spike of pleasure down Miyako’s back. Ichirou leaned back and Miyako could feel his entire body relax as her tongue travelled from base to tip. He seemed to quite enjoy that, so Miyako did it again and again and again.

Ichirou moaned, throwing one arm over his head feverishly as his body tried to register the ecstasy of it all. The monk gasped loudly when she scraped the end of his dick with her tongue and her body shuddered from the taste of his precum. It was divine; heady and full-bodied. She felt her cheeks grow warm at the taste of it and proceeded to lap her tongue slowly over the slit of Ichirou’s cock.

Ichirou grit this teeth, trying his hardest not to curse. Miyako was inexperienced, her technique imperfect, but she had so much talent and her tongue did more than enough to fill in the gaps.

The miko whimpered sweetly as the monks precum leaked out onto her tongue. The scent and taste possessed her, filling her mind, and she could feel the thin fabric of her fundoshi growing uncomfortably wet. She wasn’t sure if it was the fox or her body’s natural reaction, but she knew she wanted more of it.

The salty taste, the gooey texture, the way it played against her tongue… If the fox was at fault for making Ichirou’s cock so appetising, then perhaps it wasn’t so bad after all.

Miyako grew increasingly frustrated however as the more she ran her thick tongue over Ichirou’s cockhead the more it twitched and bobbed away from her. How was she going to milk him of every last delicious, spine tingling drop if he couldn’t sit still? The miko’s body reacted naturally and she found her answer as her top lip wrapped against his throbbing crown and held his cock in place.

She giggled sweetly, a smile spreading across her pursed lips. The giggle travelled down her tongue and sent shivers throughout Ichirou’s body. The sensation was foreign and excitingly pleasant. The monk may have been used to a Kitsune’s seduction; all the Kitsune he’d dealt with were all about taking from a man, never giving so charitably as Miyako was. He’d never expected such unbridled enthusiasm from the kind and sweet miko…

Slowly, Miyako suckled against the end of his dick as her tongue, smooth and wet, continued to wriggle and tease at the length of his shaft. Ichirou called her name, unable to contain himself any longer. He placed a strong hand against the top of her head and stroked at her hair. It sent powerful shivers down the shrinemaidens back and she felt something stir inside of her, an alien and powerful force building in her core. She had no idea what it was, but her body knew she needed it more than anything.

Miyako mewled as she felt Ichirou’s pulsing cockhead leak against her tongue. The miko’s strong tongue steadily creeped up and up until it was hidden completely within the warm confines of her maw, and with a sweet moan she slid her lips up and down the scared monk’s meaty girth.

As her head bobbed up and down and her suzu bell began to chime against her throat. The mixed sensation made Ichirou’s hips tremble and Miyako’s smiled widened around his cock. The loving shrinemaiden sucked over his length, her lush lips gliding over burning flesh and Ichirou panted and moaned her name. As odd as it was, she was certain the she could feel his eyes on her. It was impossible of course, but the thought of him watching her, his fingers locked in her inky black hair, only added to her resolve.

Miyako quickened her pace, sucking harder and faster. She slurped against his length and moaned loudly into him. He was absolutely delicious and she wanted him to know perfectly well that she enjoyed the feeling of his throbbing cock sliding tightly against her velvety lips as much as he did.

Miyako’s thighs squirmed together and she felt that the fabric of her fundoshi had been soaked through. Her pussy was swimming, almost uncomfortably. She contemplated taking them off as she bobbed her head up and down Ichirou’s shaft, but quickly realised that that would involve prying her silky lips away from Ichirou’s perfect shaft. That simply wouldn’t do. Perhaps, she thought absently, if she chose to do this again she might simply forgo the cloth altogether…

Miyako could feel the fire in her belly grow larger and larger and her mind begin to cloud. Her head filled with nothing but Ichirou’s scent and taste as he groaned her praise and she relished in it. Her hands caressed at Ichirou’s thighs and with a little effort she made more and more of his cock disappear behind her pretty pink lips with each bob of her head. She never made it close to the base, but from the way the monk was gritting his teeth something told her she wouldn’t need to.

It’s about to get better the fox teased as Miyako’s bell rang loudly now, flopping up and down against her collar in time with her movements, and from the way that Ichirou was gasping for air she knew that he wasn’t far from tipping. She only needed to keep it up. Her long tongue rolled and lapped at the cockhead trapped behind her sucking lips as her neck worked hard to keep her bobbing steady.

Her lips teased at his crown, brushing against the edges and teasing the underside of his glans. Ichirou was absolutely incoherent, babbling nonsense. The way he stroked at her head sent powerful quakes between her legs and as the monk got closer and closer to the edge the more Miyako’s own pleasure mounted. She moaned lewdly against his cock as her thighs shifted together.

When Ichirou came she felt it at once. His entire body tensed, his fingers locked tightly in her hair, and his hips thrust upward into her greedy lips. Cum, heady and sweet, rushed into her mouth and Miyako felt something crack in the walls of her own mind; the feeling of his thick goo pooling against her tongue set off fireworks in her head.

She clamped her lips tightly over the purplish crown of his cock, sucking relentlessly as she tried to empty his balls into her mouth; she couldn’t afford to waste a drop. She needed it all. She wanted to drink him dry. Her tongue lapped at his cockhead and Ichirou gasped louder than ever as she shocked his system with overwhelming pleasure.

She let it all collect in her mouth, her mind in a complete fog of rapturous hedonism, and when Ichirou’s cock finally stopped it’s fevered twitching Miyako ran her thumbs against the underside of his shaft to collect any errant drops that might have stayed behind.

When Miyako was satisfied that she’d collected all of Ichirou’s semen, she carefully pulled away, keeping her lips tight as the monk’s abused cock finally fell from from her mouth. The miko took a shaky breath through her nose as she swirled Ichirou’s heady cum with her tongue, enjoying the rich taste like it was expensive sake. Her head was absolutely swimming with the taste of his slimy seed.

When she’d had her fun Miyako tilted her head back and her throat bulged obscenely as she swallowed loudly, again and again, until it was all gone.

Miyako rested her fingertips against her throat, her chest heaving and flushed with lust. She shivered as she felt the warm cum travel down her neck, giving her a sense of endless sexual satisfaction. It filled her body with an indulgent heat that made her nerves sing. It was somehow even more intoxicating and overpowering than the sake had been. She could really get used to it.

Maybe Ichirou had a point. Maybe the fox wasn’t such a burden after all.

The trees shone with dew and the grass was still wet from the nights rain, but the worst of it had passed. The sun was bright in the cloudless morning sky, ready for a new day rife with new beginnings.

Miyako was flurry of movement, trying to find to pack only what she needed. It was proving more difficult than she thought; having cloistered herself she’d grown particularly attached to what few possessions she had. But she tried her best.

She couldn’t be weighed down with needless chattels if she was going to leave on pilgrimage.

Ichirou waited patiently from the doorway as the miko darted this way and that, a grin plastered wide on her face. Her inky fox ears poked unabashed from her hair; with Ichirou by her side, she never had to be ashamed about them ever again.

“You should only be packing clothes and food, Miyako.” Ichirou chuckled, leaning against his staff. Miyako froze in place, her umbrella in hand.

“I know, but…” She looked about the room before finally gazing down into her own hands. When she thought about it, she really could do without everything else. The umbrella however was her favourite, and it was the very same she’d carried when she met Ichirou. “What if it rains?”

Ichirou sighed deeply seemed to take a peek around the room. Ridiculous for a blind man to do, but he did it all the same. “Is it really that important to you?”

“Well, it only seems fair.” Miyako replied, her hand on her hip. “You’ve got that staff.”

Ichirou caught a laugh in his throat at the absurdity of her statement and was about to argue, but cut himself short; a staff and an umbrella were most certainly in two different categories of priority, if Miyako really wanted the umbrella though, then she could keep it.

“Alright, put it with the rest. I think that should be about it.” Ichirou said and Miyako gripped at the umbrella with glee before tossing it in with her clothes. The monk turned to leave and paused.

“There’s still time for you to turn back.” He called back, his powerful silhouette imposing in the doorway. “You’ve heard my stories, you know what kind of life is ahead of you. Are you certain this is what you want?” Miyako looked out her door, out to the bright light of the morning sun, then back at the poorly lit shadows of her temple room.

“Yes.” She nodded with certainty and her ears twitched. This was the turning point in her life, the gods had offered her a wonderful opportunity. Who was she to deny their gift?

With a deep breath she steeled herself to keep from feeling nostalgic, collected her pack, and with that the two left the temple.

The two walked down the steps of the temple; Miyako lead the way, counting the steps aloud softly and Ichirou followed her stoically behind her.

“I think I might have to apologize in advance.” Miyako said once they’d finally reached the bottom of the stairs. “I’ve never been far from the temple my whole life. So I hope that my ignorance doesn’t embarrass you.”

“I’ll try my best to keep you out of trouble.” Ichirou smiled, radiant as ever. Before Miyako could take another step however, the blind monk threw out his staff in front of her to stop her. “You should say good-bye. You’ll regret it if you don’t, trust me.”

The shrinemaiden looked up the hill that led up to her home and felt a lump building in her throat at the thought of finally leaving it behind. She closed her eyes and spoke a prayer for her friends and family. She prayed for their safety and good fortune. She prayed for their forgiveness for any shame she may have brought to them. Finally, she prayed that she might see them all again one day.

Before the tugging at her heart forced her to change her mind, Miyako turned her back on her home and walked away with Ichirou at her side.