ROYAL REWARD: Kawakami's Tickly Taste Test (Cowgirl TF, Tickling, Persona)

Kawakami shivered, gripping the skirt of her maid outfit and struggling to hide her fear, as her mistress and captor marched her down the hall, one hand on each shoulder and a third limb prodding her butt.

“Almost there,” said Princess Futanari, leaning in so close Kawakami could feel her breath on her ear. “Don’t worry, nya, today’s task is nyothing like the work I nyormally have nyou do. I promise there’ll be nyo cocksucking whatsoever!” 

Kawakami clenched her fists. The Princess’s words were like air to her, but this did kindle a little spark of hope in her breast. She’d sucked and jerked and sat on so many cocks since being employed by her that she was starting to smell like one herself. And not a clean one.

Turning the corner, they entered what looked like a mix between a laboratory and a barn, with stall after stall of smooth white cardboardium. Kawakami looked around nervously, trying to figure out what Futa was planning. From the ceiling, suction cups dangled on pipes–the kind you’d expect to see on a dairy farm. 

The Princess brought them to a stop outside a stall and raised her hand to her mouth. “Alright, nyou can send them in nyow, nya!” 

S-send who in? thought Kawakami. No matter the answer, she had the terrible feeling they were going to have a gigantic cock. 

For perhaps the first time since she’d entered Futanari’s employment, this turned out to be a wrong assumption. Not that the reality was much better: with a click, a door in the wall at the back of the stall opened, and into the room crawled someone Kawakami knew from her former life. 

“Mooooooo…!” said Makoto Nijima, her cow’s tail flicking lazily behind her as she pulled herself into the stall, the bell around her neck jangling with every motion. Behind her came her older sister Sae, who retained about exactly as much of her dignity: a cow’s ears sprouted from her head and a matching tail from her coccyx, while cowprint gloves and socks completed the ensemble. She was barely recognizable. 

And while they might not have gigantic cocks, there was certainly one part of their body that was out of proportion to the rest of them: each had a pair of absolutely enormous boobs, fat and full and sloshing, squirting milk all over the floor of the stall as they swung side to side with their movements. Kawakami could actually hear the sloshing. 

“M-Makoto…?” she said, staring into her former pupil’s eyes. “M-Makoto?” 

The former student looked up at her and mooed, mindlessly, just like a cow. There was no sign of recognition in her eyes whatsoever. 

“So,” said Futanari, looming behind her (and prodding her with the tip of her cock, as ever), “I’ve been talking with my friend Bonyu–she’s the dairy catgirl FYI–about developing a new flavor of feed for her cowgirls, and long story short, nya, I’ve volunteered nyou to help us test them.” 

“I-I don’t understand,” said Kawakami. “Wh-what do I have to–?” 

Futanari snapped her fingers, and the floor beneath Kawakami’s feet started to bubble. She leapt out of the way as it rose, sculpting itself into a new shape. What she saw when it finally settled made her want to squeak. “Stocks?” 

Futanari popped them open with a grin. “Alright, get in, nya.”

Trembling, Kawakami lowered herself to the accompanying stool and raised her legs. No sooner had she slipped them through the stock’s holes than Futanari slammed them shut and locked them. Kawakami tried to pull her feet out, but it was no good, she was stuck. 

Reaching into her cleavage, Futa pulled out what appeared to be a can of paint, not least because it came with a paintbrush. Only when she popped it open and the scent of vanilla struck her nostrils did Kawakami realize the truth, however. 

In the stall, Makoto and Sai sniffed and started to moo hungrily, throwing themselves at the gate as if they couldn’t possibly wait. Kawakami swallowed.

Dipping her brush in the feed, Futa pulled it out, the slick beige goo oozing from the bristles like precum from a cock and, without a word of warning, started to paint Kawakami’s soles in it. The teacher squealed, slamming her eyes shut and writhing on the stool, her heart pounding in her breast. Had her feet always been so sensitive?

Her work complete, Futanari pulled away. “Nyow,” she said, licking her lips. “Let’s begin.” And with a snap of her fingers, she opened the stall’s gate. 

Makoto and Sai didn’t waste a moment. Like a starving beasts, they threw themselves out of the stall and at Kawakami, their swollen boobs swinging and squirting through their tops as they scrambled across the floor towards her, slamming each other aside in an attempt to get at her first. Fortunately for the two of them, her feet were spaced wide apart, so there was plenty of room for them both to take up positions in front of her, stick out their tongues, and start licking like they were going to town on the world’s tastiest popsicle. 

This was less fortunate for Kawakami, of course, who could only scream and shake and writhe, digging her nails so deep into her palms they almost drew blood, as the pleasure of the cowgirls’ tongues against her soles set her feet alight. Slamming her eyes tight, she moaned, struggling to keep herself together–second by second, the Nejimas’ tongues slipped up and down and up and down her soles, slowly, delicately, then with furious, voracious speed, as if they couldn’t decide whether to torture her or put her out of her misery. 

Finally, Kawakami’s self-control gave in: with one last stifled splutter, she gave in and laughed, tears flying from her eyes and her whole body shaking.

Several minutes passed before the cowgirls were finally finished. As they drew back, leaving a pair of sparkling soles behind them, Kawakami collapsed, breathing hard. She felt like crying. But at least it was finally over. 

“Okay, that’s Vanilla down,” said Futanari, plucking another can of feed from her cleavage. “Nyow, let’s try Strawberry.”