Begin Episode 2. Same applies, where applicable.
---
The young lad pushed the stop button on his walkman, hit rewind,
and played track 25 again. It was Serge Gainsbourg's "Je T'aime," and
listening to it, he wondered just how the supposedly 'dirtier' version
with Bridgitte Bardot could possibly sound. In any case, he thought that
it sounded really nice. He'd never thought such obviously sexual
crooning and moaning could be so... well, musical. His fingers tightened
around the rolled-up coat on his lap. He looked out the window at the
rapidly passing mountain scenery. <Will I never be able to return? How
long shall it be before she finds me again, and sends me running and
howling even farther away?> His pants were getting a touch constricting
at that point, as the woman singer's breathy voice was starting to gasp
desperately as she sung. He sighed, thinking about his extended exile.
"Oh my," he murmured as the song ended with her disturbingly erotic
breathing. "That was fast. Oh-ho! Prey in sight..."
And such lovely prey she was, innocent eyes, pixie face framed by
short, green hair... and the most well-shaped breasts of such tremendous
size he'd ever seen on a human, straining at the tight material of her
waitress uniform. She was leaning on one arm, holding on to the other,
which in turn was holding onto the upright bar. She was standing, which
was unusual since there was no one else in the cab beside him. She was
trembling slightly, and he tried to imagine that he could distinctly
smell the scent of her womanhood calling to him.
"'K... I am the MAN... I am THE man... I AM the man..." He reached
into his pants, making sure. There were troubles with being a
shapeshifter, after all. "I'm a star, I'm a star, I'm a star... I'm a
big bright shining star." He pulled his hand back out, feeling all
psyched up. His pants still felt tight, too, which was always a good
sign.
He turned away from his reflection in the train's window, preparing
to approach that vision of stacked loveliness, to see, to see...
To see that she was biting on her tongue as, hands still occupied,
she ground her crotch slowly against the bar through her skirt. She
noticed him staring, slack-jawed, and whispered, "Darn it. He's too
young. But I'm so desperate." With an obvious effort, she stepped away
from her main source of stimulation, a slight stain on her skirt between
her legs. "Ah, heh," she said to him, batting her eyes shyly, "Hi. Um,
my name is Yaku."
"Ikari Shi- Bob," he amended suddenly, with more than a little
curiosity distracting him. He shook her hand, wondering if the
appropriate thing was to look her in the eyes, try to stare down her
shirt, or stare at the stain on her skirt. He settled on looking at her
waist, which was between the two main targets, anyway.
She blushed. "How long have you been watching?"
"Uh, me? Why," he tried to formulate an answer. "Err, I wasn't
watching!" although what he had meant to say was, "Hey, baby. Nice
stain. Want me to help with that?" with an accompanying leer. He
realized that he too was blushing, which was totally unacceptable. If
any of his kind saw him, he'd never live it down. "So, ah, is this your
stop?" Again, this was failure - he was supposed to have said, "Ah-hah!
The sticky wetness you feel is a sign that I, a mighty duke of Shikima,
have successfully hypnotized you with my sex-craft! I shall ravage you!"
with accompanying motions of slip-hand-into-panties, push-her-to-the-
floor and fuck-her-brains-out. He sighed limply.
She eyed him speculatively. He was kind of cute, in an innocent,
wimpy sort of way. Nope, wait, make that manly, studly, and so sexy.
Damn, she hated the full moon. If she could, she would have blown it up.
What she felt she really needed to do was to blow, and get blown.
At that point, she felt her breasts starting to expand under her
shirt. "Screw it," she said. With that, she pulled Bob's face right
into that stain he was trying not to look at. "Ah! Sorry," she gasped
as she dug her fingers into his head. "Sorry! I can't - ah! - I need
you to - AAAH!" Her shirt tore open. "Oh, OH - please make me come! I
can't stand it!"
"Mmmmm-ffffphhrgh!" he got out, which translated roughly to, "What
the fuck! Oh, no, not again!"
---
The Nikholas F. Toledo Zu
presents
Idiotic, Late-Night Productions'
only fanfic... the parody:
Wandering Boy Bob, Luckless Shikima
by Nikholas "SwitchRain" F. Toledo
episode 2: The Mister Happy Machine
---
"Ow, that's hot!" With a couple of twists, the steam stopped
pouring upward from the bulb-like projection. "Ahhhhh... that's
better..."
With the cooling down, the half-door to the shower closed, or what
qualified for closed as the lock failed to do its duty. Not that it
mattered, as there was no one else in the showers at that time, that time
being sometime after dusk, when varsity practices had ended an hour
hence.
In a way, it didn't matter. It was always thrilling to cater to
your kinky little personalities, and it was rare for someone like your
normal high-school varsity student to indulge in some exhibitionism, at
least where and when it wouldn't be appreciated.
Appreciation wasn't necessary, of course: the most natural of the
bodily functions was to be naked, after all. It wasn't as though the
body in question was hard to appreciate, as the varsity student in
question was, in fact, late in taking a soothing shower because of the
rather intense training regimen involved in keeping the aforementioned
body in its current condition of muscular toning and aesthetic
perfection.
It wasn't so much exhibitionism as commercialism: the way the warm
water rolled across the crevasses and cleavages made by soft flesh and
hard muscle, ringing around hardening nipples, dribbling from the chest,
sliding down the washboard stomach and contributed to the heat and
dampness in the crotch, or slid down powerful, slick, tense legs would
have reminded anyone to turn on the telly to watch lifeguards or to book
themselves on the next flight to the nearest nudist colony.
This was, of course, the best time in the bath to be disturbed.
The bath door swung open. "Eek!" the varsity student shrieked,
covering whatever body parts could be covered, without much immediate
success.
Fubuki took note of the said body, then looked elsewhere within the
cubicle. "Not here." She closed the door and fled.
"Dammit, Bob! Where the fuck have you run off to now?"
Sumio stood under the hot shower, completely unsure of what to make
of her, other than what his embarrassed Mr. Happy had to spew.
---
<Now that is strange,> Yaku thought, pulling her head up and away.
Was she doing something wrong? Impossible! She had been trained by the
best! She bent to her task again, coaxing with lips, teeth, tongue and
fingers. And then, and then...
There was a little 'pop' when the rapidly shrinking pecker slipped
out between her lips. She let loose an exasperated sigh. "Look, what's
wrong? I'm pretty good at this, I know I am. And after what you did for
me just now, I'm pretty sure you aren't gay." She flushed in
embarrassment. "I mean, uh, I just wanted to return the favor, y'know?"
She heard him mutter something about someone named Fubuki and
'those damned teeth' being a turn-off before he answered weakly.
"I'm a loser, that's what it is." His head thunked against the
metal floor of the train as it started to slow.
"Aww, I'm sorry. You didn't disappoint me or anything, I
understand that an increasing number of guys these days have this sort of
problem, whether its from stress or a feeling of inadequacy or..."
"Why me?" Bob slammed his head against the floor. "Why does this
always happen to me?"
The speaker above them crackled to life, blaring out, "Next stop,
Atami."
Yaku started gathering the scraps left of her clothing to herself.
She said in soothing, motherly tones as she did this, "There, there. But
first, we should really get out of here before the people at the next
stop get an eyeful. Hold that thought." She glanced down at herself -
the remains of her clothing were completely ineffective. "Umm, come on,
I've got an apartment nearby. Uh, look, your pants and stuff are still
intact - could I borrow your coat? I'll take you with me and we can talk
about this," she smiled, "and I'll try to make you feel better about
things, okay?" <Aw, jeez, she thought to herself, I guess he really is
too young. Did I just rape a little kid?> She bit her lip self-
consciously.
He stared at her expression as he slipped his slacks on. <Oh,
please kill me now. My "rape victim" is comforting me for inability to
perform - if Fubuki spots me now, I'll just shrink into a little ball of
lint under the chair. This is so depressing.>
Bob cleared his throat, before letting out a meek little, "Okay."
---
"B-B-uH! Uh! B-uh!" Some shallow breathing. The sound of paper
clutching breast, wet with tears, sweat and frustration. Plenty
frustration. "BOB! B-Uh! BOB! Where - where?" Her fingers were
soaked and they were already tired again, and the batteries had already
run out on her Evil Dr. Oscillator.
A knocking on the door.
"Hiroe? Are you okay in there?" A pause. "Look... you've been in
there for days now..." Another pause, less decisive than the last. "If
it's really been bugging you, especially after having to break up with
your boyfriend and all... we could try that hypnotism thing again." A
pause, then another knocking. "Oh, c'mon, sis! You can't stay there
forever!"
"Go 'way." It was a strained voice, hoarse.
"Hiroe!" Mayaka sighed, happy to get some response this time
around. "C'mon, girl! It's not the be-all and end-all of being a
completely contented woman! So what if you're the only fully-functioning
woman who can't get an orgasm? Most married women aren't as lucky as
you! Why, if makes you feel better, we could read through all those
stupid letters in that 'Dear Doctor Love' column. I mean, aren't they so
*pathetic*? You're a hundred times better off than they are!"
"Oh, yeah?" Hiroe now sounded like she was leaning on the other
side of the door. "Does getting left by the only man - er, monst- uh,
MALE, who got you off count as pathetic?"
"Well, ah, you see, um."
"I thought that maybe, maybe he'd fixed me - that I was normal but.
But. I've been trying for hours and hours and I'm still the same - wet
or not, damned quiet south of the border!"
The older girl heard suppressed sniffling through the door. "I
thought you said that you always had to fake it for that guy, Hiroe."
"Oh, sister... It's not Sumio. It was this gym teacher who, uhm.
Well, I guess she, uh, I mean, he wasn't really a gym teacher and,
well... he wasn't even my boyfriend, but..."
Mayaka could hear a fresh bout of sobbing on the other side of the
partition between them. "Oh, Hiroe. Hiroe, I'm sorry." She drew in a
slow breath and slid down her side of the door to the floor. "Look, I
can help you look for this guy."
It was suddenly quiet.
"Hiroe?"
"Would you really help me?"
"S-sure! Of course! Anything for my kid sister. Could you, ah.
Could you let me in now, please?" She discreetly fingered the sparkly,
blue lipstick in her purse, which seemed to glow with a light of its own.
She heard the bolt slide.
---
<What am I doing here?> Bob thought with varied amounts of
distress, despair and anxiety, though it didn't stop him from ogling the
bottom curves of Yaku's butt peeking out from under his apparently short
coat. <I've just been exiled under kill-on-sight orders from the King of
the Underworld and here I am escorting a barely dressed nymphomaniac who
feels sorry for my "inadequacies" and who's brought me to her apartment
in the middle of the night. This is so embarrassing.>
"Um, Miss?"
"Yaku, dear."
"Err, my name is Shi - that is, ah, you can call me Bob."
His train of thought was sidetracked as a tall, well-formed girl
with spiky aqua hair walked by them, a heavily bundled young man slung
over her shoulder.
"Oh, hi Ryoko! Finally bagged him, eh?" Yaku smiled encouragingly
as she fumbled for the keys, which were somewhere in the rags she was
wearing beneath the jacket.
"In a manner of speaking." She blinked. "Say, isn't he a little
young for-"
The more generously endowed woman blushed down to her collarbone.
"Um, it was a full moon, see, and, uh-"
"It's okay, I understand," Ryoko winked. "Seeya in a few days."
"Bye."
With a last tug, Bob was caught unawares and subsequently dragged
into the room.
He mumbled, "Maybe this isn't such a good idea, um, I mean,
well..."
Yaku slid the coat off and tossed it onto the rack beside him,
faintly amused when he turned away.
"Oh, gosh! I just realized - um, should you call your, err, p-p-
parents?" She started to sweat nervously. <Well, it shouldn't be too
hard to change my name...>
"No, no, I mean - I live alone," Bob twiddled his fingers
nervously. <Yeesh,> he lamented internally, <I sound like a nervous
little boy! This is mortifying.>
"Oh, okay. Ahm, good." Her breath came easily once more. "You
can sit anywhere - the couch is okay."
She took off what was left of her clothing as she walked over to
her room in the corner, folding them up as she did so. "Another moon,
another trashed outfit," she sighed. "Look, I'm really sorry about what
happened, but I have this problem, see? Well, I guess you couldn't see,
but, ah, what I mean is. Well, I feel sorry for you, and I'm really
grateful and, well, well - is there anything I can, um, do for you? You
seem so sad, what's wrong?"
When she stepped back into the living room, she wore a white,
terry-cloth robe, and Bob's fidgeting started to lessen. <Maybe she
isn't so bad - for someone who has better sexcraft than I do,> he
thought. "Well, um. I've been having a bad week, you see," he sighed.
<She kinda reminds me of Mom.>
"Aw, poor dear." She sat beside him on the couch, put a
comforting, 'yes, comforting,' she reminded herself, arm around his
shoulders, bringing him close to lean against her.
<The robe is soft and she smells nice,> he thought. Except there
was still that underlying, extra tang to her scent that was different,
and familiar at the same time. He thought that he was missing something.
"I've got it! Your girlfriend doesn't appreciate you, is that it?"
Yaku perked up. "It's okay, I mean, you have a really talented mouth and
fingers - she'll appreciate you eventually!"
"Well, actually... I don't have a girlfriend?"
"Nani?" She hid her mixed pleasure and surprise at that. "But,
but, I mean, how - ?"
He giggled nervously, quite unsure of what to make of her now, and
unsure of the image he was presenting. "I mean, there's this girl,
but... she kinda doesn't know I exist..."
"And?" She was sure she couldn't catch his gist.
"... so I have to, you know, please her, right? I mean, I haven't
yet, but I was getting there. But, I sorta had to, y'know, leave where
she was, because her dad doesn't like me." He started to shake his head.
"But I'm still trying! I have all these, well, tutors..."
"What's her name?"
<Aw, what the heck,> he thought. "Mido Miko."
Yaku's eyes grew very, very wide. "Um. She wouldn't happen to
have really long purple hair an-"
Of course, that was when the windows were smashed in.
---
"Cut! CUT! Bloody CUT THAT OUT!"
"What, what?"
Hatta jumped from his fold-up cloth seat with the words "World's
Sexiest Director" emblazoned on the back where, unfortunately, no one
would be able to see it. "I can't believe how WRONG you're doing all
this!!"
Komatsu nodded from his position, "yup, wrong, terribly wrong."
The stand-in they got was fiddling around, wondering how he could
ever get back in "the mood" with these two idiots trying to crowd their
way into the action. "What's so wrong with what I'm doing?"
Hatta shoved the skinny boy off from the place where the latter boy
stood. "Where's the violence? Where's the tension, huh? When you take
a woman," hereby moving to elaborate, "you've gotta squeeze her ti-
ttttttttt."
The last word's enunciation was largely due to the slap that made
the budding filmmaker's teeth involuntarily chatter. The slap, of
course, was from the woman he had just tried to get a cheap feel off of,
varsity player and ponytailed girl, Akemi.
"Need I remind you, Hatta," she pushed him away, "that the only
reason Negumo and I are here is that you are paying for this three-day
vacation? I didn't plan for you two to be part of it."
"Whoa, I'm starting to like this," Hatta murmured while massaging a
bruise, nodding only slightly to his cohort, who tipped a small jar over
with his foot, its powerful-acting fumes taking instants to do their
dastardly job. "Oh, I see. Well, you don't have to do this."
"Really?" Negumo almost shouted it out loud. Here was his chance
to prove to that damned Nikki that Akemi and he did do it, and did it as
they damned well pleased. "Oh... oh, well. Guess I'll take the couch,
eh, Ake-"
He turned to his girlfriend, who had this look of utter lust,
matched with a body of utter nakedness. "Why, Negumo, that's the
kinkiest thing you've said so far..." She had opined for the floor.
"Now that's more like it. A little reverse, but hey! it's not
supposed have a plot, anyway. Good job on those pheromones, Komatsu."
He didn't try to say any more, because he'd have to shout over the
moaning, and that would get on any of the five microphones and four
cameras.
---
"Bob of the Shikima!" roared the company of huge gory monsters,
completely be-decked with extra phalluses and various other appendages,
teeth, fangs, spines, eyes, tails and in a couple of cases, wings (not
Whisper). "You have disgraced the divine blue bloodline of Seikima! Now
shall ye -"
One of the smaller ones, a little pink lizard thing with beady
yellow eyes and suckers for fingers, poked the biggest one, mumbling in a
wheedling hiss, "Anou, hey, misssstah bosssss-man, ssirrrh? I teenk da
nexssssht line wasss, 'Now thou shalt,' you ssseee."
"Dammit, Smith! You broke my concentration! I'm going to stick
your tail up where the sun don't shine after this! Bloody economists!
Your invisible hand shtick ain't worth jack, you demon wannabe!"
The scaled one huffed as it started to climb back out of the
window. "Well, then, yoouuuu caannn bee the one who exsssssplainssss it
to the union."
"Excuse me," Bob raised his hand politely. "I've been out of
touch, what union?"
A green many-tentacled splendor pulled its wallet out of someplace
disgusting and proudly displayed its shiny (and not a little slimy)
embossed gold card. "The Twisted Shikima Snappy lIne, Speech and Script
wriTERs' union - Twisted SSISSTER for short! Ain't that right, Asterix?"
Big and studly wings slapped him about a touch with a large tube of
wasabe, which squirted the thick green stuff all over the place.
"Dammit! You're the only one who uses that god-awful acronym for the
union! Stop embarrassing me, Obelix!"
"But I like Twisted SSISSTER," the tubby demon sniffled.
Outside the window, a large fist-sized dollop of wasabe landed
inside a handsome, well-dressed man's mouth. Obviously, he was about to
burst forth in riotous and passionately inspired song.
"U-U-USHIKO-SAAAAN!" He dropped his guitar and ran, face very red,
tears streaming.
The woman on the balcony above Yaku's window waved her bright red
silk scarf piteously, "Umao-san, wherefore art thou, Umao-san?"
Meanwhile, back in Yaku-chan the stacked's apartment, chaos was
restored as Asterix (big and studly wings, short and little bod) had just
beaten the demonic invasion force into submission, except for Obelix,
whom he simply bribed with a big plate of boar's tripe fried in auroch's
drippings.
"Mmmm... I ssssssmmmelllll... aurrrroch'ssss drrrrippingssss...
yummm..." the demon-ling whispered dazedly, from the outside.
"Now, you piddly little Bob! You, you ROMAN! Prepare to face the
wrath of -"
Obelix tapped his wing with a greasy looking tentacle. "Asterix,
where's the honey?"
"Dammit all to the Bloody Busty Hells of Barbie the Barbarian!" He
tossed the bigger demon a big green tube. "It goes better with wasabe,
Obelix, trust me. Now, where was I? Thou, Bob, exiled disgrace, thou
shalt be subject to the ultimate torture of all, the horrid, horrid pit
of insidious and utterly terrifying -"
Bob raised his hand. "Excuse me?"
Asterix slammed a little paw against one of his horns. "WILL YOU
HURRY UP SO THAT I CAN FINISH THE DAMNED PRE-FIGHT SPEECH? I'm already
in enough trouble with the union. By the buttery buttocks of Barbarella!
We're on a tight schedule here. We're doing a guest appearance at this
foreign campus soon, and we can't get to those leggy blondes until we're
through with you!"
"As invading monsters from Japan?" Bob scratched his head in
puzzlement. "As Godzilla? Gojira? Ghidera? Mothra? A strong Yen?
Yoko Ono? Dr. Mann? That creepy Neko-Bus from Totoro? A two-hundred
foot long Jingoro? A Beast-Fighter? An Omu? Fuma Lei-Ar? NO," he
gasped. "Surely not as..."
"... Spice Girls?" Yaku mouthed in terror.
"... Sailor Scouts?" Bob finished.
They all cringed at that.
"Nothing so terrible as that. We're masquerading as frat boys from
one university doing a panty raid on this other university sorority under
cover of a certain event. Bob, you are at times perverted enough to
frighten even me."
"Ah," Obelix nodded, nose bright red from the horseradish. "Love
those blonde girls. Been a long time since I've gone on one of those -
the last time was with boss-man G__."
Asterix interrupted, "Shut up. The Secret Service got 'im. He
might as well be an X-file now, the careless demon - they prob'ly think
he's an alien. Anyway, look, Bob, dude, I guess you can give your
defiant-hero-facing-up-to-the-hordes speech now. As I said, we are on a
tight schedule."
"But, but GUYS!" The seemingly little kid waved his hands. "Why
bother? Despite the common knowledge that my sexcraft isn't the best,
the day you guys beat me in a real fight is the day biker pigs in hard
suits fly around all night singing 'Konya Wa Hurricane!' Why not just go
back to the realm of Shikima and tell the King that I got righteously
beaten and we can all just get along." He smiled pleasantly. "Wouldn't
that be nice? And I could fix you guys some nice Sleepy Time brand mint
tea before you go..."
Faint singing was heard outside from far and away, "... loving you,
loving you... oink, oink."
"Yeah," one of the Generic Huge Gory Monsters With Many Phallic
Appendages (GHGMWMPA - rhymes, by the way, with 'Chumbawumba') said,
tugging on Asterix's wing. "I think some tea would be really nice, you
know? And despite his sexcraft problems, Bob's a first-rate fighter."
"This wimp?" Asterix snarled. "What are you talking about? I'll
take him on, one-on-one!"
Another GHGMWMPA said, "Um, Asterix, boss-man. You're kinda new to
the demon business. We all make fun of Bob's ability with the chicks,
but he's a pretty serious fighter. We should really all dog-pile him at
once."
Obelix laughed. "No. Then we'd be like Romans."
GHGMWMPA #3 said, "Look, nevermind that you two are a completely
inappropriate cameo pair, but Bob won the biggest fighting tournament in
all the realms five years in a row before he disgraced himself over the
Princess."
Asterix said gruffly, "Those Street Fighter wimps aren't so tough."
"Not the Street Fighters tournament," GHGMWMPA #3 argued.
"Something infinitely tougher! The POCKET FIGHTERS tournament. He only
stopped because they banned the use of karaoke as a weapon a couple of
years back."
Obelix said, "But that was won by this guy with a ponytail and a
pink gi! He couldn't even toss a fireball!" He tapped a tentacle
against what appeared to be his head. "These demons are crazy!"
GHGMWMPA #2 rolled his eyes (all twelve of them). "How come we
always get the newbie boss-men? Look, we're demons, capisce? Bob's a
demon. We can shape-shift. Bob can shape-shift. And he don't NEED a
fireball to win! He's got Karaoke Combat! He's scary!"
Bob blushed. "Hey, guys, I wasn't that good. And even when I won,
nobody ever gave my Hibiki Dan look any respect."
The demons, except for the aforementioned inappropriate guest pair,
groaned.
GHGMWMPA #3 tossed a couple of arms around Bob's shoulder
sympathetically. "So you replaced that idiotic disguise with some skinny
fourteen-year old boy-look with big, sensitive eyes and a bowl cut? Bob,
you idiot!!! How can you possibly expect to win the Princess looking
like that? Let me tell you, what you really need is a shiny red
convertible -"
Asterix yelled, "Look, don't get so chummy now! We gotta fight
him."
Bob thought about it. "Where did you say you were going?"
GHGMWMPA #1 cringed, "Uh, oh. Now we're in for it. Boss-man,
don't you dare tell him."
Asterix spoke defiantly, fluttering his mighty, studly wings (did I
mention how big and studly they were?), "S_______ University."
The collective GHGMWMPA squad just sighed in resignation.
"Hmm," Bob paused. "Can't letcha do that. I feel sorry for this
girl there you might bother, you see. I kinda like her. People used to
make so much fun of her. You're gonna haveta re-route, guys." He got
into stance, back straight and tall, hands in front of him as though
holding a large microphone.
"Wait, wait, wait!" Smith crawled back in. "You can't fight like
that! Bob, change into yourrrr demon forrrm firrrssssssssst!"
The little guy sighed, thinking of Yaku who was watching, wide-
eyed, from beneath the couch. It had taken his phenomenal reflexes to
hide her generous figure under that cramped space, and now she would see
what he was really like. "Do I have to? I really feel much more
comfortable looking like this." He almost felt like a virgin taking his
clothes off in front of a woman for the first time.
"You're sssssuch a dissssgracssssse. Don't you care about proper
demon etiquette?"
"Oh, fine, Adam. Even today, though, I bet that you got the King
mad at me just 'cause you wanted Miko-sama for yourself." He took a deep
breath. "I'm a star. I'm a star, I'm a star, I'm a star; I'm a big
bright shining -"
---
"Boku no atama no nakani benki-desu!"
"Now, now, Hatta. Our budget is low, how could we possibly expect
to get authentic-looking demons for our fight scene?"
"No, I'm just feeling bad about my score."
"Score?"
"Laid-o-meter count: zero out of 792."
"Oh, great. For a moment there, I thought you'd broken our
average."
"How could Negumo have possibly tired Akemi out? I mean, we even
drugged 'er! It's so depressing," he wailed.
Komatsu clenched his fists. "Lose not thy hope! Remember the
ecchi director's motto, our battlecry to end all battlecries!"
They yelled in collective apoplexy, "If you build it, they WILL
COME!"
The two directors sighed and scratched their (own) buttocks.
"Negumo, Nikki, put on your prostheses - it's time for the demonic battle
scene."
"You mean these?" They gingerly held up the... articles mentioned.
"Um. They look pretty, well. They're, um, unique."
"Don't start having any weird ideas with them, boys." Hatta said.
"My little sister Susie made them for her grade school project. They're
supposed to be half-gloves for our neighbor, Johnny (HOOM HAAAA! Check
out the pecs!) - but they came out a little warped. Wear them over
condoms for comfort and you'll be sodomizing in demonic fashion with the
best of them."
"Hatta, chika-baby, they're so heavy that if we wear them, they'll
droop. Somewhat painfully," Nikki protested. "How could your sister
possibly make paper-mache so damned dense?"
"Y'know, I'm tired." Negumo finally yawned as his throbbing,
artificially-induced hard-on began to ebb like a crescent moon from which
too many cows had swung through the long, long night (the NIGHT! The
Beautiful Night! El Hazard, the 2nd Night: the World of Beautiful
Girls!). "Let's start our booster draft tournament. That'll perk me
up."
"Tempest?" Nikki tilted his head.
"Exodus."
"By the Four Action Figures of the Apocalypse! Will you bums start
getting to it! We didn't drag all of you here to Atami just to get laid
and then practice for the upcoming Type II!"
"I don't feel so good," Negumo tilted at an alarming angle. "I
think I - blurrggfffgpphh."
"Eww. Shit. Komatsu. Do you know where your towel is?"
"Man, Hatta, he puked all over the prostheses! What are we gonna
do for demons now?"
That was just asking for it, wasn't it? Applause, applause.
"Kick of the Blue Suede Shoes!"
GHGMWMPA #2 crashed through the eastern wall, clutching painfully
at his ears. He went straight across, knocking a hole in the opposite
wall. His tentacles were very droopy. "That... didn't... hurt." Thud.
Akemi's nose twitched in her sleep and she mumbled, "I smell, I
smell auroch's drippings."
"Yes, but I like it with satay sauce," insisted Nikki from beneath
the big GHGMWMPA which had collapsed atop him. "Did this thing just
FART?!"
"Keep it rollin', boys! God, this is better than the script!"
Komatsu peeked from behind the camera. "But it was the best I've
writ-"
"KEEP IT ROLLING!" Hatta completely lost control of his arms,
which flailed wildly about, accidentally tapping the cassette player,
which blared out: "Banana chips for you, banana chips for me..."
Asterix jumped backwards into the far end of the room. "Fall
back!" the smaller demon cried, "FALL BACK!"
Bob stepped confidently through the wall between the now-connecting
rooms, gigantic muscles rippling in the dim and poorly-budgeted lighting
of the walked-in set, not even wincing when he hit his head. <Damned low
ceilings...>
"Someone turn that blasted radio off!" Hatta waved at it, at which
point Komatsu had changed the station instead.
"MMMMMMMMBBBBOP! Be doo be dop! Bai doo wop!"
"AHHHH!" Everyone screamed, except for Bob, who smiled. "Ah...
such magnificent tools of the devil."
Asterix, for one, seemed ready for the challenge. "Let's get at
it, Bob! I ain't got all day!" He also discreetly nudged the tuner.
"Ah!-ho-ho-hoh... Ah!-ho-ho-hoh... Everybody was kung-fu fighting!
HHHWWAH!"
Bob met the smaller form with his knee, which the feisty darkling
met with his mouth. "YEEOWTCH!"
Hatta shouted to Bob, "no, you idiot! Smash him to the wall!"
"There were funky China men, from funky Chinatown... they were
chopping them up, they were chopping them down..."
Obelix lumbered in, tentacles raised above him to strike with
deadly and disgustingly slimy force (as his tentacles were, after all,
still coated with auroch's drippings and wasabe). In response, Bob
reached out with his finger, tipped with a dangerously sharp and shiny
and pointy claw and proceeded to, to...
The big green cauldron-shaped lump was helpless on the ground,
rolling about left and right in an attempt to escape but Bob was far, far
too skilled. "STOP!" the pigtailed red-head screamed. *Gasp/wheeze*
"N-no fair! NO TICKLING!"
The GHGMWMPA force trembled in fear. "Such technique! We should
run away now," they said as they started to inch towards the window.
"It's an ancient Chinese art... where everybody knew their part..."
Hatta bonked Komatsu into silence, as he was the only one singing along
at this point.
Asterix picked himself up, minus his front teeth, which promptly
grew back. "Don't you dare run away! How can you possibly let one wimp
defeat you like this? Don't you have any pride? Besides, the audience
wants its courtesy fight scene NOW!"
"Well, if you have to put it that way," GHGMWMPA #1 sniveled.
"GHGMWMPA SQUAD, ASSEMBLE! Hut-hut, huddle!" They crouched next to each
other in a circle, making odd grunting sounds to psyche themselves up.
"V-formation!"
Asterix yelled, "Phalluses ready!"
Numerous long and disturbingly familiar or not so familiar
serpentine not-quite-tentacles sprouted from the mass, inter-weaving and
meshing in an interlocking fashion. GHGMWMPA #1 and #2 yelled, "Form
feet and legs!"
Obelix crawled up, yelling, "Form arms and torso!" he dive-bombed
the mass, his own many large penises stretching to lock together with
those of the others.
"And I will form," Asterix jumped up, flapping wildly with his
wings in order to obtain the necessary altitude, single thick PA (Phallic
Appendage) extending down to lock into the pseudo-spinal column, "the
HEAD. Plug insertion complete! Retro-thrusters are go!" The massed...
thing yelled in a chorus of daemonic voices, "LET'S GO POLTROON FORCE!
PHALLUS FIIIIVE!" Lightning-like lights (they were just special effects
after all, even if magical; hey, would you want a gigawatt of electricity
dancing around a giant penis?) shot and formed a gigantic B behind them.
"Now that," Akemi remarked, "is one big dick."
Bob could only gape. "It looks so, so..."
"TERRIFYING! AssSTOUNDING! BREATH-TAKING! AND IT'sssS EVEN
ECONOMICAL!" Adam Smith, who crawled in from one of the holes in the
wall cackled, "Take a look at our latesssssst ssssthtrategic
offennssssse! PHALLUSSSS PFIVE!"
"... silly." The currently dwarfed seven-foot giant looked up
wonderingly. "It looks like one of my old toys... what was it called?
Something from the Ambiguously Gay Duo?" Bob scratched his chin as he
pondered the issue.
"Kung fu fiiiightii-" Mercifully, someone unplugged the stereo. A
deathly silence hung in the air, or maybe it was just the numerous hairy
testicles.
"And now, you little Bob, you," the chorus chorused, "surrender now
to our righteous wrath, or else,"
Bob just grinned, "or else what? I bet you can barely walk like
that - I mean, it must be damned uncomfortable for all your dicks to be
stuck together like so many sticks of clay."
"We don't need to walk," the voice associated with Asterix spoke, a
faint shaking was beginning to crescendo, "to do THIS!"
The floor was starting to hum, then to reverberate. The trio on
the bed began to shriek, to scream and to snore, respectively, in terror.
Phallus 5 stretched out its rather gruesome-looking arm, whipping
it through one of the walls and...
Bob sighed. "Didya really haveta do that?"
Yaku sighed as well. "Damn it, not again." She arched her back
painfully, yelling as smaller PA's branched out from the main trunk that
wrapped itself around her and started to poke themselves between her
buttocks and legs. "Ah! AH! HEY, NOT SO HARD!" She squirmed when a
large PA, the head of which was about as large as her fist, started to
push into her anus. She grit her teeth as muscles stretched and parted
in ways that they were not really designed for. "Shi-iiiit! Aaaaah...
please, no..." Finger-sized protrusions began to encircle and pull
violently at her clit. <If only it wasn't a full moon, if only I didn't
use up so much of my sex-power already... Oh, KAMI this is going to
huuuuurt!> She grimaced, biting down to keep from screaming, almost
sighing in relief when it stopped pushing inwards.
"Alright, Bob, if you do not surrender yourself, we're gonna do her
so hard her pelvis will break and she'll need to see a proctologist for
the rest of her life!" Multiple mouths split open and grinned along
Phallus 5's huge torso.
Adam Smith smiled. "Sssssso what arrrre you to do noooow, Bobbbb?"
"Hey, hey. That's NOT a nice thing to do to a lady. I can't let
you do that to Yaku-onee-san!"
Yaku mouthed silently and with some indignation, "onee-san?" before
closing her eyes as the oversized intrusion pushed in yet another inch.
She just managed to keep from whimpering as the pain mingled with the
small waves of pleasure undulating along her legs and body from the
little PA's playing with her cunt. The white robe she still wore
concealed the rest of the PAs that slowly caressed the rest of her body,
writhing all along her skin.
Bob shrank down to his teenage-sized body once more, muttering
softly, "Well then. If you're going to be THAT way about this... you
leave me no choice; it's time to get dangerous."
His body expanded upwards again, but not so large as his full demon
form. Instead, he reached a muscular five feet and six inches, and his
black bowl of hair lightened to a mid-back length brown. He tied the
hair back in a ponytail as his eyebrows grew heavier and bushier, and his
black slacks and white polo shirt stretched and shifted into a pink gi.
Smaller mouths formed on the feet and legs of Phallus 5. "Uh, oh,"
said the part of Phallus 5 that was GHGMWMPA #2. "This is bad."
"I am Bob, once a Baron of the Shikima. But you can also call
me... Dan." The martial artist smiled sinisterly as he winked. He held
out an open hand. "Microphone." One of Komatsu's voice pick-ups flew
into Bob's hand. "Prepare to face Karaoke Combat - the deadly singing!"
he announced as he got into stance, microphone to lips, feet a shoulder-
length apart, chest expanding as he drew in a large lungful of air,
stomach muscles rippling in preparation to support the diaphragmatic
exertion of chi. Dark glasses appeared over his eyes out of nowhere, and
the pink gi started to take on the shiny look of sequins and his bare
feet looked like there might have been ghostly wingtip shoes forming over
them.
When it was all over, only the tapes would show the agony of the
reduced-to-lumpy-ash-remains of the Phallus 5 and Adam Smith. Everyone
else was knocked unconscious.
Dan flicked off his glasses and grinned. "Oh yeah! The Flan of
Victory is once again mine to sample. Ladies and gentlemen, Elvis has
left the building."
He shrank back into the skinny fourteen year old look and sighed as
he looked at the wreckage. He looked around and gently, very gently,
picked up Yaku, cradling her form easily in his deceptively skinny arms.
She whimpered, covering her ears in her sleep. "I'm sorry you had to be
subjected to that," Bob whispered to her as he leapt out of the window.
"Perfect! S-S-So bloody PERFECT!" Hatta could barely stop his
tears from flowing as he crawled up from within the relative safety of
the corner of the room. "That's a WRAP, people!"
Komatsu got up from his prone position, making sure to dust himself
off of rubble and penile bits. "B-B-But, Hatta..."
"We've got it made, Komatsu m'boy! Just two or three weeks here
and we'll be able to fill a library with saucy and diabolic tomes!"
Komatsu checked up on their "stars", none of which were even
bruised by the battle. "I hate to break it to ya, bud, but..."
Hatta glowed in the light of the full moon. "Yes, Komatsu, losers
like us CAN win!!"
"Hatta... they trashed the cameras."
A pause. "All of them?"
Komatsu nodded. "All."
---
"RATCHOO!"
"Bob? You okay?" Yaku slid down the log, stopping only when her
hip felt his bony one, seating herself and wrapping an arm around his
shoulders. "Do you feel cold? Really, there's so much more room in this
robe..."
He shuddered, bowing his head even lower, focusing from the
healthy, crackling fire in the middle of their camp-out to the bare and
stubby toes below him. To her surprise, he started to cry.
"Whoa! Whoa..." She turned him, so that she could completely
envelope him in her embrace (while giving him a very large helping of
female flesh). "Easy, easy now.... It's okay... it's okay... a little
lower..."
To her minute dismay, he pulled his face away. "I... it's... it's
just so... UNFAIR!" He buried his face again, this time Yaku made sure
it was on the right spot.
"There, there," she said, rubbing the back of his head, patting
where she could. "I know how bad it is to be the outcast. My sexcraft
trainer always gave me a hard time." When she hadn't been possessed by
that demon sword, she left out. "One time, she and I were the only ones
still conscious, she gave me the strangest grin before she came. It
was... it was like she was expecting me to outlast her."
"What has this got to do with my situation?" Bob muttered,
sounding slightly muffled as his nose was firmly locked within her
cleavage.
"Lots of things," she whispered. "Well, a few things, anyway."
She sighed, rocking back and forth slowly, the scent of Bob's hair
reminding her of baby powder. Now that she had gotten the lunar urge out
of her system, her sense of smell was returning to normal. She wondered
if Bob smelled that way naturally or if he kept a canister on him. The
sour odor of stress was starting to dissipate from the two of them and
Yaku was taken with the sudden urge to pick Bob up. She felt a faint
thrill course through her, the surprise of how light this form of his
was, when she shifted her hands under his legs and lifted him onto her so
that he straddled her hips and he was more comfortably nestled against
her, chest to chest.
His erection poked reassuringly into her stomach.
"How much do you weigh, um, when you're like this?" she asked,
resisting the terrible urge to run her fingers through his hair.
"Hmm?" He turned his head a little, sighing at the comforting
pressure of Yaku's chin resting on his head. "I dunno. Not much. Why?"
<Maybe I am a pedophile,> she wondered. "Um, nothing. You're
really cute like this. It's you."
She felt him tense up. "What's wrong?"
"I am a demon, you know. Full-blooded and all..." He leaned away
and looked up at her, eyes large and owl-like. "I'm well, supposed to be
mean and stuff. Um, it kinda well..."
"It bothers you to be like this? I don't know, Bob, but you're
really a lot nicer than a lot of real humans I know. You seem so sweet -
even in when you're in your monster body, you watched out for me. Do you
really think Miko would like you if you were more what a demon is
supposed to be like, or if you were true to yourself, the way you are
now?"
"This isn't my nature, this isn't how I am, how would you know?" he
whispered, more to himself than to her. His hands locked into place
around the small of her back.
"Trust me, I know..." She knew all too well: it was a full moon
that time, too. She remembered the way Kamiri had laughed at her...
rather hairy attributes. "... people all have secrets, even demons."
Bob started in realization. The way she was being... handled by
those other demons... she should have been... any normal human girl
would have been speechless, dumbfounded... catatonic... "Don't... don't
tell me you've... that you're... you've been..."
"Y-yes?" She said, not quite able to see him in the eyes.
He weighed the entirety of the pain that he had gone through in his
life, the humiliation, the anguish... and he found his sorrow much graver
than this. "You'd been... accosted... by demons before?"
"Well..." Yaku sighed in resignation, knowing full well that she
could never, EVER reveal her werewolven form to her precious Bob.
"Something like that." She could only imagine what Kamiri would have
done if she had known.
She felt his fingers unweave, loosening his hands behind her. He
lowered his eyes in a gesture of deep regret and consolation. "How - how
could you stand to be near me?" His voice seemed choked, bilious.
"You haven't done anything to me that I haven't wanted you to do,
Bob." She shrugged, a warm motion, indifferent to the hardships that her
body had gone through. She placed her hands on his cheeks, tilting his
face up to hers as she smiled. "You do demonkind proud. Well, kind of."
He shook his head. "They took advantage of you. Sent your body
into the heights of passion, while sending your soul crashing into the
pits of hellish torment. Made love to you while reciting tax returns."
Bob had nary a split-second before Yaku pulled his face towards her
again, deep between the smooth globes of her bosom. "Sorry. Couldn't
help myself, you're so," she grinned, "adorable." The terry robe just
happened to fall off her shoulders at that point, draping itself over the
log they were perched upon. She rubbed the lobe of his ear between her
thumb and index finger, causing him to gasp in small, hot breaths.
Bob squeaked, "c-can I... help you... anything, Y-Yaku-o-onee-
chan?"
Yaku grated her teeth at that. "J-just don't call me that..."
Bob slid his fingers in slow, gentle circles around her stiffening
nipples while he slid his face lower along her body, tongue tracing the
short path to her navel.
"Help me... forget about him..."
He stopped in mid-lick. "Hloo?"
"Them! Them!" She pushed his head lower, towards her still sore,
quivering lower lips. She moaned a little when he avoided them.
"Did they touch you here?" he muttered, the green stubble
scratching his lips as he moved them - he thought that she would have a
pretty luxuriant patch of pubic if she did not shave. With his teeth, he
tugged at a little, curly tuft of hair that she must have neglected to
shave that morning.
"Uh-hmm." She hummed through her lip, trying not to bite through
it. The exquisite tension of his blowing and teasing were starting to
wear on her defenses, and Bob wasn't letting her push his face closer to
her crotch.
"And did they," he licked lightly at the girl's outer lips, "do
this?"
"Oh..." She had foregone forcing Bob to up his pace, and went to
kneading her breasts.
"Those monsters earlier," he recalled, most particularly one
sssstupid one, "they hurt you again, didn't they?"
She nodded, nearly oblivious to the quakes and quivers she was
undergoing.
"Show me, Yaku-chan... so that I can... we can..."
Yaku mumbled, "heal? Be whole again?"
"... uh, so that, I guess, so that I can be your UltraMan?"
She spluttered in half-indignation and half-frustrated passion, "So
what does that mean? You can only make love to me, what, 3 minutes at a
time? That's... UNH... unh... Oh, yes, just like that, a little more,
just a little - " She bit down again, the salty trickle of blood not
unpleasant on her tongue. She cried out when he stopped just short of
her full pleasure, and she sucked a little on the wound, just wishing
that he would not stop halfway.
"Well, I never thought of it that way. Um, I mean... that is, you
c-could... depend on m-me. Want me to show you just how l-long I can l-
last?" He licked his lips, partly in anticipation and mostly in
nervousness.
At that, Yaku gingerly pushed up from the log, turning over, making
sure that the cloth of the robe and the roughness of the bark caught her
body in the small niches and grooves that so needed rubbing. She thrust
her posterior end bravely into the night air, indicating that this be the
first injury under advisement for treatment.
"Forgive me... Yaku..." As quietly as they could, Bob's muscles
rippled, hardened, hugefied and generally grew-without-possible-reason,
gripping her hips on both sides, and aligning his now baseball-bat-thick,
baton-length, glistening member with Yaku's rear passage. "I, too, have
my wounds..."
Yaku's ragged screams could be translated in the language of lovers
as "if only he had three or four more of these!"
---
Fubuki leapt off the branch, and almost misstepped when a shout
resounded from somewhere in the vicinity of Atami.
"THEY EVEN BROKE MY SISTER'S DICKS!?"
---
End Episode 2.
---
Voice 1: We are the best-kept secret in the universe.
Voice 2: No, we are not.
Voice 1: Oh, what would you know?
Voice 2: Hatta, I still think that there are people who actually know
where we come from.
Hatta: Not too many, though.
Voice 3: Um... where do you guys come from?
Hatta: Oh, Shinji-kun. You're finally here... and you've just hit this
omake!'s topic on the head... "Where the Hell Do the Characters
Featured in Wandering Boy Bob Come From, Anyway?"
Bob: But it says so on these idiot boar-
Voice 2: Let's start off, eh, Hatta?
Hatta: Lay it on, Komatsu.
Komatsu: Okay, then. Katsuragi-sensei, Shinji-kun over here, and Class
Rep Hikari Horaki all come from that uber-popular -
Hatta: Not to mention highly sexual!
Bob: No, it isn't!
Bob and Hatta: Why don't you just read the idiot boards?
Komatsu: (coughs) uber-popular mecha series, Neon Genesis Evangelion.
Bob: Hatta, Komatsu, and the occasional appearances of Umao and Ushiko
are staple from Kimagure Orange Road.
Hatta: As are Hikaru and Madoka... who won't make appearances here.
Komatsu: Do you mind?
Hatta: Actually, no. Miss those kids. Anyways, Daisuke, Hiroshi and
Principal Ninomiya are all from that gender-bending Ranma 1/2.
Bob: Thank God none of that is coming out of here.
Komatsu: Hiroe, her sister Mayaka and her ex Sumio are imports from the
smash hit F-3.
Hatta: Stands for Frantic, Frustrated and Female... a reference to the
fact that Hiroe cannot, in fact, reach orgasm.
Bob: Despite her active attempts to try.
Hatta: Yeah... and try she would. Fubuki, Yaku, Miko Mido, King
Seikima, and the Shikima are all fixtures in the La Blue Girl
universe, which this series takes place in.
Komatsu: Entirely for convenience.
Bob: Several cameos have come from Tenchi Muyo!, Asterix, Urotsukidoji -
Hatta: Grand-pappy of all demon ecchi anime!
Bob: - Pocket Fighter, and many more in later parts. Throwaway
references to anything from Xxxenophile to Magic: the Gathering,
from Boogie Nights to Men in Black, from Mmmbop to Kung Fu
Fighting, from Johnny Bravo to DragonBall, from The Wealth of
Nations to UltraMan in soaps, from Voltez V to Voltron, and back.
Komatsu: Makes your mouth water, don't it?
Hatta: Speaking of mouth-watering, we hope you'll be around for the next
installment of Wandering Boy Bob...
Bob: Episode 3, right? I mean, that Rain Man guy keeps skipping
episodes...
Komatsu: But Switch says that he'll be the one taking care of the next
few installments...
Bob: After several other projects...
Hatta: ANYWAY, Episode 3, entitled "Pink" will pit Bob against a demon's
worst nightmares...
Komatsu: Drugs, sex, rock and roll...
Bob: Slavering roadies, live bats on stage, chaperones, magical girls...
Hatta: And, of course, the ever-present paparazzi.
All: See ya ther'!
(Pause.)
All: Isn't there supposed to be a "FADE OUT" at this point?
Voice 4: Not until I appear...
Bob: Isn't that...?
Hatta: It can't be...!
Komatsu: But wasn't she...?
Voice 4: Gone for a while? Yes.
Hatta: Do you think she heard...?
Komatsu: She doesn't seem to...
Voice 4: Yes, Mr. Hatta, I did hear it. You and Mr. Komatsu here, I
have to have words with.
Hatta: OW!
Komatsu: Leggo!
(Sounds of heavily falling bodies.)
Bob: Um, Hikari-kun...?
Hikari: Did you hear what they said? "Highly sexual." Yeah, right.
Oh, yeah, don't forget to read the next episode, "Purple
Warning", coming from Idiotic, Late Night Productions.
Bob: Um, Hikari-kun?
Hikari: Yes, Bob, no da?
Bob: Next episode is "Pink".
Hikari: What? But this script they gave me is... EPISODE 4?! Where is
that Nikholas?!
Bob: Um... until next time.
- End teaser-boy
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