Meeting Hoshoka Ch 05

Thank you for returning for a fifth chapter in Hoshoka's story, readers! I know Chapter 4 ended on a bit of a low note, and we see a crack in Hoshoka's casual confidence and dominance. Chapter 5 explores her vulnerability a bit; as the writer with a behind-the-scenes view of it all, I think this chapter kind of showcases just how much of my partner is in Hoshoka's DNA, for better and for worse. And I'm going to be very honest with you all, Dave is very much a self-insert sort of character. Does that make this story a monsterfucking fanfic about my own marriage? I'll let you be the judge.

Also the potato-peeling story is absolutely true. That actually happened to me.

CW: Monsterfucking (human male/Japanese Oni female), gentle femdom, size difference, BBWs, dommy mommy play, the word "cunt" used to refer to vulva and vagina, emotional vulnerability, the cool, confident monster is secretly hiding an anxious, fragile heart.

***

I woke up hours later, the first rosy fingers of dawn beginning to peek through the blinds, to a cold and empty bed. Hoshoka hadn't come back upstairs after tucking me in last night. Wincing as I got out of bed, I stopped in front of the mirror to examine my back. I had a bruise the size of a grapefruit beneath my right shoulder blade, but the bruising seemed to be the absolute worst of it. I grunted as I bent to retrieve my T-shirt from where Hoshoka had thrown it and pulled it back on over my head. Then I ventured downstairs.

Hoshoka had cleaned up the living room as promised; the folding trays were closed and stacked against the wall, the Chinese food containers were disposed of and there was no evidence of any broken glass on the ground. I found her curled up into a tight ball on the couch, her knees hugged against her chest, facing the back of the couch. She was wearing the

Urusei Yatsura

T-shirt she'd been in when we'd first met, freshly washed.

"Hoshoka...Mama? You didn't come to bed last night..." I said softly.

She stirred some, and sighed deeply.

"You...you should probably get your things together and go..." she replied sadly. "I...I understand."

"Well, I don't," I said cautiously, sitting on the couch next to her. "Why do you want me to go?"

She twisted to look at me, her eyes red and puffy. "Because I'll hurt you if you stay."

"You aren't going to hurt me-" I started to say before she cut me off harshly.

"I already did," she said.

"It wasn't your fault-" I tried to say before she interrupted me again, her eyes flashing with fury.

"Why can't you open your eyes and see me for the monster I am, Dave?" She snarled. "This is what I am, this is what I do, this is all I'll ever be. A huge savage beast that fucks everything she eats, eats everything she fucks, and can't- and can't-"

The tears began to pour down her cheeks again. I tried to place a comforting hand on her foot but she pulled away.

"And can't keep herself from hurting the one good thing that's ever happened to her," she managed.

"Hey, hey, it's okay. Look at me, please." I said, and her yellow eyes met mine.

"You've already shown that who you are now is not who you were five hundred years ago," I said softly. "You can change who you are, who you want to be. So you're...a giant shapeshifter with horns. I mean, that alone should show that you can change, right? Maybe you're physically what some would call monstrous. But that doesn't mean you're a monster in ways that actually count."

She sniffled. "I've eaten over a thousand people," she said in a small voice.

"Okay, but-"

"Most of whom I forced myself on first."

"And now-"

"A tiger can't change its stripes, Dave."

I sighed. "Hoshoka," I began, trying again to reach out and rub her foot. "When have you done anything like that to me? You've been very kind, and respectful, and generous with me. You've treated me very well, and I have faith in you. I know you're going to continue treating me well. Yes, you accidentally kicked me last night. It happens. There was no malice behind it, and it doesn't change the way I feel about you."

She finally, tentatively let me touch her foot and begin massaging her sole.

"For what it's worth," I continued, "I had an ex-girlfriend try to stab me for not peeling potatoes fast enough once. When we broke up she told all of our mutual friends what a monster

I

was, lying about all kinds of abuse I'd allegedly heaped on her. And a lot of people cut me out of their lives for that. So no, you don't even rank as a monster compared to my past relationship history."

She snuffled thoughtfully.

"Potatoes need peeling?" she asked finally.

"For some recipes, yeah. The skin is edible though." I told her, gently clasping her foot between both of my hands and rubbing my thumbs into the ball.

"Her loss, Dave," Hoshoka said softly. "You're too kind for your own good."

"Maybe," I replied, "but you deserve a lot of kindness."

She was quiet after I said that, but started to slowly uncurl.

"Did you get any sleep down here?" I asked. She shook her head.

"I...I tried, but maybe not hard enough. My mind just raced all night, thinking of how good you've treated me and how I hurt you, and how until now I never thought about anyone else I've hurt over the years." She exhaled hard.

"Why is it," she asked, "that I can be chased by angry mobs, attacked with dogs and clubs and burning torches, all that and it doesn't phase me. I gave back as good as I got and I welcomed it, telling myself it just proved how strong and terrible and fucking mighty I was."

She sniffled again. "But against kindness and tenderness, it's like all my defenses melt like paper in a storm. I can't bear it. I don't know what you see when you look at me, Dave, but it's not...not the me I see reflected in the mirror. I'm a whore and the daughter of a whore, a half-breed child of Hell, a glutton and murderer and worse and you just...don't see that. Why don't you see me as I really am?"

I was quiet for a moment as I digested this. "The circumstances of your birth are irrelevant," I started (and yes, I know what I was quoting. You take wisdom where you can get it), "and yeah, your actions define your character, but what about this: you behaved like a monster for 300-something years. But you're, as you told me, effectively immortal. You have a lot more than 300 years in front of you to be kind and to love." She brooded on that point for a few minutes.

"You're a wise man, Dave," she replied softly. "You mortals always manage to pack so much wisdom into a mayfly's lifespan."

"I'm happy to help," I told her sincerely.

"How- How's your back this morning?" she asked tentatively.

"I've had so much worse," I said, completely honest. "Yes, I'm sore, but that'll go away soon enough. I'm genuinely more concerned about you right now than all that."

"The girlfriend that tried to stab you...I'll eat her if you want. Feet first, make her watch it happen." Hoshoka's voice sounded a little firmer.

I shook my head and rubbed her feet a little more firmly. "We'll call that Plan B," I said with a smile. "Plan A is living a good life and you and me having better sex than she can ever imagine is possible."

"I like Plan A," Hoshoka said, her eyes drifting closed. "So, since I'm not eating her..." she began.

"Yeah?"

"Can I have waffles for breakfast instead?"

I couldn't help but laugh a little. "You can have all the waffles you want," I told her. "So many waffles."

She smiled wanly. "Now that I got a man worthy of being fat for," she said, as she gingerly lifted her leg and booped my nose with her big toe again.

Soon enough, a brunch's worth of waffles were delivered to the house. I counted; Hoshoka downed twenty belgian waffles, one after another, plus butter, syrup, and roughly a quart of Dr. Pepper. Astonishingly, I convinced her to use a fork this time around. Finishing, she leaned back with a belch and a happy sigh, and patted her belly. She looked at me and smiled.

"I've got sticky kisses for you if you want 'em," she said, sing-song. I tried to encourage her into my lap but she demurred.

"Too fat to sit on you and lean in for a kiss right now," she said, but she sidled up against me, gently cupped my face in her hands and kissed me with syrupy lips.

"Thank you," she whispered as the kiss ended.

"For what?" I asked.

"For staying." Her eyes were sad despite her smile. "For not running when you had the chance...for believing in me."

I kissed her again. "You're stuck with me," I whispered back, smiling.

"Because of the syrup?"

"Because of the syrup," I agreed.

***

After breakfast I got her upstairs and into bed. She sighed as I pulled the comforter over her, and nestled down among the pillows. I laid down with her and held her, stroking her hair until she fell asleep. Once she was snoring away, I gently extricated myself from the bed. After a quick shower and a change of clothes, I got in my car and made a short trip out to the store for cleaning supplies.

Armed with heavy-duty rubber gloves, a dust mask and some doubled-up extra-hefty trash bags, I was ready to tackle the porn cave. Steeling myself, I entered the room, closing the door behind me. I pulled down the hentai posters taped up over the windows to let some daylight in, and forced the windows open for fresh air. From there, it was just a matter of working my way methodically around the room.

Into the trash went dozens of creepy posters of nude anime girls. Into the trash went the ahegao mousepad. And you better believe into the trash went the crunchy towel and the collection of unwashed, mildewing fleshlights. Those got triple bagged.

I opened a half-dozen air fresheners and stacked them on the desk, and wiped down the chair with a couple of disinfecting wipes. Once I was satisfied that the chair was safe to use, I sat down and surveyed my work. A sudden feeling of dread washed over me; there were more trash bags here than I could put out on the curb on pickup day. Shit, I thought. I was going to have to take some of these to the dump, which meant putting them in my car.

The worst of the bags I did put in the house's trash can, followed by as many more as I could force into it and still close the lid. That left me with three bags of crumpled posters to take to the dump; I decided I could live with that. I tossed those bags in my back seat and went back inside to mop the floor in the former porn cave.

Eventually I had the room as fully cleaned up as it was going to get; there were cobwebs in the ceiling corners I could go after, but that would be a project for another day. I was just happy the creepy hentai art was all gone and that the room didn't smell foul any more.

"Big improvement," came Hoshoka's voice from the doorway. She was standing there, still wrapped in the comforter, blinking sleepily.

"Thank you for cleaning all this up," she said with a lazy smile.

"Yeah, happy to help," I told her. "I still have to deal with the computer itself, but for now it's a better space."

"Doesn't smell like my dad any more," she said, chuckling. I couldn't help but join her in a laugh.

"So what's next on your agenda for today?" Hoshoka asked. I shrugged.

"I could do some ChowDash deliveries," I said. "Unless you have something in mind?"

She smiled slyly.

"I might know an amazing man who deserves a long, slow worship session," she said. "Do you have any idea who that might be?"

I grinned. "Let me freshen up," I told her, "and I'll be right with you."

"Why make me wait?" she asked. "Why not let me bathe you?"

I didn't have an argument against that. I let her lead me to the bathroom and undress me, and then she had me show her how to operate the shower. We stepped in together and I showed her the temperature control, how to switch from the faucet to the showerhead, and the dial on the showerhead that controlled water pressure. She was like a kid in a candy store, grinning irrepressibly as she experimented with the different dials. She blasted me with scaldingly hot water and when I yelped, shielded me with her body as the temperature came down. Even crouching she loomed over me, her arms draped loosely around my shoulders, her head tilted down to let her forehead rest against mine; her long hair hung is soaked coils over both of us.

"How's my handsome man?" she purred.

"Amazing because I'm with you," I replied. She chuckled.

"You really know how to make a girl feel wanted," she said softly. "Now, about actually cleaning you..."

I grabbed my washcloth and the bottle of bodywash off the shower side board. I squeezed a little bit of bodywash into the washcloth, worked it into a lather, and handed it to her. Hoshoka dropped to one knee and began to wash my arms, chest and stomach, then working her way lower.

"Oooh, someone's happy to see me," she purred as she gently cupped my rising cock in her hands, wrapping the washcloth around it and slowly stroking me under the pretense of sudsing me up. Once I was rock hard she giggled and proceeded to begin washing my legs as if she hadn't just teased me erect.

"Turn around for me?" she said with a cheery human-toothed smile. I obliged, and heard her make a soft, sad noise as she saw the dark purple bruise on my back. She touched it very lightly, just for a moment, and pulled her fingers away as if she was going to do more harm.

"It's okay," I told her. "It's just a bruise and it's not something I want you beating yourself up over." I heard her take a deep breath behind me, and then after a moment she gave me a playful growl, both hands squeezing my ass cheeks appreciatively.

"What a nice firm ass my man has," she said, "I just wanna sink my teeth into these hot cheeks - oh shit, I mean with human teeth! Not the sharp ones! I don't want to chomp you too hard!"

"It's okay! It's okay!" I reassured her, happy to hear her mostly back to her usual self. "I knew what you meant! And, uh, you know...go ahead? Have a nibble, I'm cool with it."

Her powerful hands squeezed and kneaded my ass. "You sure you're up for it, sweet boy?" she asked. "You didn't sound confident..."

"Uh, well, I've never had anyone treat my ass like this before? So I don't know what to expect."

"Virgin territory," she growled playfully. She nuzzled my butt for a moment, and then gently bit my right cheek, nibbling and making overly-dramatic "om nom nom" noises as she did so. We both laughed.

"I don't think that necessarily does a lot for me," I told her as she resumed washing my back, "but if you enjoy it I'm happy to let you any time you want."

"Such a thoughtful boy," she said, pressing her wet breasts against my back. "Maybe there are some other things we can do with your ass or mine that will be more fun."

Finishing with the wash cloth, Hoshoka unhooked the shower head from its cradle and rinsed me off. "What's next?" She asked.

I squeezed some shampoo into her hand and showed her how to rub it into my scalp. Her fingers felt amazing in my hair, strong and gentle at the same time as she massaged the shampoo over my head. Once she'd given me a good lather, I directed her to rinse it all out. She went so far as to massage my scalp a little bit with the shower head.

Pushing the wet hair out of my face, I gave Hoshoka a predatory grin of my own. "My turn to wash you," I told her. She put a hand to her mouth in mock surprise.

"That wasn't part of the deal!" she squealed in feigned shock. I was already sudsing up her breasts and working my hands down her wet belly. It wasn't long before she had me in a snug embrace, my soapy hands working their way over and between her plump butt cheeks.

"My wonderful, attentive man," she breathed in my ear as my hands slid up and down her thighs.

"No judgment," I said softly, "but I kind of guessed you probably haven't really gotten cleaned up since before your imprisonment. I thought it'd be a nice treat for you."

"You thought right," she replied, "just, uh, don't ask any detailed questions about my last bath. I suspect just jumping in lakes wouldn't count in your eyes." I just chuckled and kissed her before rinsing the soap off her gorgeous curves.

"May I shampoo your hair?" I asked her. Her eyes went wide.

"Dave," she said, "my hair hasn't been truly washed like this since...maybe my transformation...and there's a lot of it."

"That's okay," I assurred her. "I'm happy to take care of it."

She acquiesced, and knelt down with her back to me, allowing me to rub shampoo into her scalp and begin working it down the length of her hair, adding more as needed. It took some time, but eventually I had worked lather through it all and began rinsing it out.

"I've got conditioner here for your hair as well," I told her. "It's going to be the same process, and it's supposed to give your hair shine and bounce." She giggled and gave me the affirmative to start conditioning. It was as long and slow a process as the shampoo had been, but she sat politely while I massaged the conditioner through all five feet of hair. Once the last of the conditioner had been rinsed down the drain, she carefully rose to her feet with my hands on her hips to steady her.

"All done?" she asked, and I nodded. She turned the water off and pulled back the shower curtain. I wrapped a clean towel around her and began to vigorously dry her off; she then did the same for me and I let her lead me into the bedroom.

"Now comes the hard part," I told her. She grinned and tapped my still-erect penis with one finger, making it bounce.

"Not that hard part," I said with a grin. I pulled a bottle of detangling spray and a pack of combs from my overnight bag. "Time to comb out your hair, Mama. I think you'll feel a lot better after this - but, uh, I'll be honest. I've never done this for a woman before and you have a lot of hair. I'm going to be as gentle as I can, but there's probably going to be a little bit of tugging and pulling."

"I trust you," she told me. Still, it took the better part of an hour and a half, the entire bottle of detangler, an extensive vocabulary of cursing in both English and Japanese and four broken combs to get all the snarls and knots out of her hair. We were both sweating again by the time I'd finished, but the end result seemed to be worth it. Her hair shimmered and flowed like water as she shook her head.

"It feels so nice!" she sang. "Hells, I can't remember the last time it felt so clean and soft. Thank you! I'm sorry for the things I said when the combs kept breaking."

I kissed her cheek. "It's okay," I told her, "they just weren't made for your luxurious mane."

Hoshoka grabbed my chin and kissed me deeply, her lips locking with mine and her tongue gently probing between them for entry into my mouth. As the kiss broke, she panted, "You. On your back. Now."

I did as directed, laying flat on my back, still fully nude, legs spread. Hoshoka positioned herself on her knees between my legs, and began tenderly kissing my thighs, drawing lines of kisses from my knees up, always stopping before she reached my groin to begin another line back at my knees.

She kissed around my stiffening cock without touching it, then began to kiss my stomach and work her way up towards my chest. She crawled over me, letting her heavy breasts drag across my skin, my cock helplessly disappearing between them as she worked her way upwards.

Pinning me under her, Hoshoka's lips explored me, devoured me inch by inch in soft, gentle kisses. She teasingly nipped at my nipples, then licked each in turn.

"I told you you were getting worshipped tonight," she breathed, smiling up at me. "And that I was going to take my time doing so..."

Her mouth found my right shoulder, then danced hungrily in spiraling lines down my arm, nipping my wrist gently between her human teeth, kissing my palm before delicately taking each finger in her mouth in turn to suck on.