ROYAL REWARD: Futa and Nomi's Delicious Blueberry Date (Blueberry Inflation, Futanari, Persona)

Sadayo Kawakami stood behind her Mistress and shivered as the door of the parlor opened. Their guest floated in at the head of a long retinue, the little bat wings attached to her waist fluttering delicately as she drifted up the red carpet. 

As their guest approached, Kawakami’s Mistress shuffled in her seat with what she could only hope was excitement, though with her hands hidden from view, Kawakami had no doubt it was actually something much lewder. Finally, Futanari leapt to her feet. “Nomi!” she called. “Noooooooomi! It’s so good to see nyou again, nya!” 

Another maid pulled out a chair, and the Duchess of Nomi drifted slowly into it. “Hello, Futa,” she said, voice droll. “I see nyou’re as happy to see me as ever.” 

Futa’s erection raised her dress like a tent. She giggled. “Would nyou like something to drink, nya? Nyou’re looking as thirsty as ever.” 

“Actually, I brought a little tipple of my own,” said the Duchess, snapping her fingers. “Perhaps you’d like to try it?” 

The doors of the parlor opened again, and several of Nomi’s pale, red-eyed maids hurried to roll something in. Squinting at the doorway, Kawakami sized it up with a scowl. It looked like a gigantic… blueberry? 

Only when one of the lumps on the giant berry’s side struck the floor and it released a wild moan, did Kawakami understand what she was actually looking at. Th-that’s a person…! She knew full well what the Bakeneko could do to a human body, but she’d never seen them do anything quite as horrible as this before.

Then the giant blueberry rolled over again, bringing its face into full view, and Kawakami realized just how horrible the situation was in truth. 

“Ooo,” groaned the blueberry, her cheeks plump, her eyes crying tears of thick juice. “Miss Kawakami…?” 

Kawamaki’s heart almost stopped beating. “A-Ann?” she cried. “Ann!” 

Futanari turned to look at her with a giggle. “Oh, do nyou two know each other, nya?” 

Kawakami froze, unsure how to answer. There was nothing worse you could do than give the Bakeneko inspiration. “Y-yes,” she said at last, trying to reveal as little as possible.

Futanari chuckled anyway. “Mmm, well, maybe nyou’d like to pour our drinks then, nya?” 

Kawakami winced, but she nodded and took a step towards the moaning Ann all the same. As she sized her up, she realized she hadn’t the slightest clue what she was actually meant to do here. They didn’t want her to milk her, did they? 

“Allow me,” said Duchess Nomi, raising her pointer. She gave it a little flick, and Ann flipped onto her back with a squish and an erotic moan…

…exposing the giant, flaccid cock leaking juice between her legs. 

“Here nyou go,” said Futanari, pressing a cup into Kawakami’s hands. “Try not to spill any on the carpet, nya–it’s a pain to clean out.” 

“I-I–” 

“Go on, give her a stroke.” 

Screwing up her eyes, Kawakami bit her lip, raised a trembling hand, and placed it oh so carefully on Ann’s cock. 

She might as well have electrocuted it: all at once, Ann released a wild scream, and her penis snapped to instant, overblown erection, twice as thick and as long as Kawakami’s own arm. Shivering, it squirted blueberry precum all over her dress, leaving it dripping down to the floor.

“Hey, I told nyou to be careful, nya!” Futanari snickered beneath her breath. 

Swallowing her disgust, Kawakami raised her hand and struggled to wrap it around Ann’s vast member. It was an almost impossible task–if Ann’s cock had been solid, she wouldn’t have been able to do it at all. Fortunately, it retained enough squished for her to squeeze her fingers into it and join them that way. Ann wailed, moaning and shaking, leaving her penis spurting all over Kawakami’s apron. 

“Go on,” said Nomi, in what might have been an encouraging tone, if not for the vague sense she was enjoying the whole procedure greatly. 

Shuddering, Kawakami raised Futa’s glass to the tip of Ann’s cock, tightened her grip, and started to jack her off. Fap! Fap! Fap! The sound of her pumping cock rolled through the ballroom, making some of the other maids wince. Ann herself, of course, wailed in utter delight, eyes rolling back in their sockets, tongue lolling out of her mouth. Blueberry juice squirted from her nipples and her sex, leaving Kawamaki struggling to catch as much of it as she could. It didn’t take long to fill the glass to the brim. 

Releasing Ann’s shaft (which earned another wild moan from her former student), Kawakami handed Futa her cup with a muttered ‘mistress’ and grabbed another one to use for Nomi’s. The Duchess watched her with her glinting red eyes, looking like she’d bare her fangs and strike at any second. 

Doing her best to ignore her, Kawakami took Ann’s shaft in her hand and started to pump again, making the blueberry girl scream and shake, her body sloshing as the juice inside it shifted. 

“Try not to get any in your mouth,” said Nomi, as fat flecks of blueberry precum splattered Kawakami’s cheeks. “This particular type of juice has a rather unfortunate effect on humans. Of course, it lets me produce more of it, so I can hardly complain.” 

“Produce more of it…?” Kawakami slammed her lips shut as she realized Nomi’s meaning. The last thing she wanted was to become a giant blueberry herself. 

Ignoring Futa’s giggles, she picked up the pace, pumping Ann’s fat blue shaft about as hard as humanly possible and trying not to think about what it must feel like for her former student as she did it. Up and down her hand moved, making the blueberry squealed and slosh and moan louder and louder until at last, with a titanic scream–

“Nnnn~!” Ann came with a wail, her cock pouring. Blueberry juice (thick and creamy, but still juice) filled Nomi’s cup in an instant, flowing over the sides and all over the carpet. Kawakami shivered as it poured over her hands. 

“Tch,” said Futa, “my poor rug. Still, I like the taste of this juice though.” She took another sip, leaving her with a thin blue mustache. “Maybe I should get some blueberries of my own…” 

Kawakami could only shiver at the thought.