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A Smile for Kurotowa	By : thecert Category: +M to R > Nausicaa Views: 1450 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own the anime/manga that this fanfiction is written for, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-A Smile for Kurotowa
- 1
A Smile for Kurotowa
He was stuck in the ass-end of nowhere. Kushana was off performing her usual machinations; that was fine. The giant god-warrior was here, keeping everyone in a state of tension; that was ... well, Kurotowa still hadn't decided how he felt about the god-warrior. It wasn't as if he could affect its progress: the damn thing did what it did whether he saw it or not. Still, he felt honor-bound to make the trek below several times a day, if only to keep the men maintaining it on their toes.
"All is well, sir!"
"Fine, fine." The soldiers had to guard the underground chamber and monitor the semi-organic machinery the thing had extruded to sustain itself, but did they have to run their mouths just because their commander showed his face?
"Everything is going smoothly," the guard continued. "The warrior's torso is almost fully developed."
Kurotowa sighed. Might as well confirm the soldier's report with his own eyes. The chamber was another world, red and vibrant, somehow claustrophobic despite its immense size—maybe because the giant god-warrior not only was its centerpiece but made up all the furnishings and trim. Masses of veins flowed from the unnameable devices, all pulsing in perfect synchrony: across the floor, up the walls, and all over the great membrane that webbed its way around the hulking mass of the god-warrior itself. The place had always reminded Kurotowa of something, but busying himself in observing its details had distracted him from any efforts to figure out just what.
The bulk of the creature hovered above him, all red-blood streaks and bone-white membranes embracing a swelling tannish mass. Its features were clear now: slits of closed eyes, folds between them that might be the outlines of a broad nose, and beneath, an arch of ... baleen? No, each pale strip tapered to a point, and they moved independently of each other. The structure was like nothing so much as a great, grotesque mustache waving gently in the fluid that nourished the creature.
I've always liked mustaches. The incongruity of the thought twisted Kurotowa's mouth into a grin. Aloud, he said, "I swear, the more I gaze at you, the more attractive you get. You're awakening long-forgotten ambitions even in a lazy old soldier like me."
As if the creature understood the word awaken, the eye-slits drew open. Through the venous superstructure, two featureless fields of green gazed down, then narrowed and vanished behind their lids.
"Eugh ... Is that a smile? Perhaps you should remain buried deep beneath the earth after all." Kurotowa wasn't sure he was ready to deal with a creature that could understand him so well even while effectually in the womb.
"Sir!"
Kurotowa turned with a sleepy "Mm?" to see a breathless soldier trotting down the steps.
"Her highness's fleet was attacked by a survivor from Pejite. All but one of her ships were destroyed."
"What happened to her highness?"
The man hesitated, then said, "According to our reports, her ship exploded in midair." After a pause: "How shall we proceed, sir?"
"Do the villagers know that their princess's ship went down?"
"No, sir."
"Good. Keep it that way. Go continue working as if nothing had changed."
The man saluted and hurried away. Kurotowa looked at the monster again—the nearest thing to a superior that he had at the moment, it seemed.
"So," he mused, "is this lowly soldier finally on the path to fame and fortune—or on the path to destruction?"
Could it have understood him again? Those impossible eyes were open once more, and now Kurotowa was sure they met his own. The heat, the pulse, the fierce green gaze—suddenly it came to him, what had always been at the edges of his mind when he came to this place. It was like being inside a woman.
Heh. Now, there was something he didn't think about as much as he used to—not surprising under Kushana. Any man who got inside her would be lucky to escape without leaving his cock behind. This creature was no Kushana, at least. There were no hidden schemes behind its gaze, though it carried a certain compulsion...
Kurotowa reached out a hand and laid it on a vein larger than his own arm. The rhythm thrummed through his body. Was it his imagination, or had those impossible green eyes shifted toward him? The creature had seemed to know what he wanted when he spoke of a desire for power; did it understand more concrete desires as well?
Touching the thing made him want to find out.
"Everyone!" Kurotowa's voice resonated dully off the walls of living flesh. "The god-warrior has developed far enough to justify a preliminary test. Leave the controls for half an hour. I'll stay and observe it alone."
Kurotowa couldn't have found a surer way of endearing himself to his men. No one was fond of the duties involved in maintaining the god-warrior, even though they were all aware of its strategic value. Cries of "Yessir!" were followed by a rapid retreat of men with cheerful expressions and spirited steps.
It occurred to Kurotowa that they'd never thought of how one of those warm, pulsing veins would feel against a cock.
He rubbed his own cock through his pants. A ripple passed across the god-warrior's mustache, and the line of its mouth straightened a bit. It was smiling at him!
Well, he mustn't let it down.
Kurotowa leaned crotch-first against the creature's nearest appurtenance. Mustn't let that down either. He arched into it and contemplated the mechanics of the situation. Just how could a human fuck a god-warrior? It would be like fucking a desert or an ocean. The sheer scope of his partner (if one could call it that) precluded anything but the most token of attentions. Could the creature even feel his touch? Its hide—or membrane—was tough everywhere, and it covered the creature itself completely: there was no question of penetration per se. Still, frottage seemed so understated, so incomplete. Might as well be having sex with a tree.
Hmph. Even trees had crotches.
Kurotowa pulled himself away from the vein and surveyed the area beneath the great mass of the warrior proper. It rested on a sort of pedestal that rose gradually from the floor until it was taller than a man, and blood vessels took winding courses that split and rejoined over its surface. Yes, there—two of them united at an acute angle. Kurotowa tested the area with his free hand. It was springy, giving a little to pressure, smooth to the touch. And of course it pulsed as everything connected to the creature did.
Kurotowa dropped his trousers and went to his knees, leaning his chest against the combined vein that angled its way into the god-warrior's body at an attitude just comfortably shy of vertical; it vanished into the greater mass somewhere beyond arm's reach. The vein itself fit his embrace, and the branching that had first caught his attention seemed even more accommodating than he'd thought. He pressed his hardening member into it, and it pressed back, enveloping him, massaging him in a slow, steady, powerful rhythm. No woman's inside could ever feel like this. He groaned softly and looked up. The thing had somehow shifted in its vessel so that the eyes were barely in view. Slightly closer, the line of its mouth moved in time with the pulse: curving, straightening; curving, straightening. The motion was faint but definitely real. The pulsing subtly quickened.
Mustn't let it down.
Although the heartbeat warmed him, Kurotowa found it far too slow to accommodate the drive that had built up in the past few minutes. He thrust into it, never perfectly synching with the pulse but at least achieving a rhythm of his own that was as maddening as it was satisfying. Not man, not woman—what was this thing? A child? Kurotowa's thrusts never faltered as he looked up; no child ever had such knowing eyes. Perhaps it truly was a god. Perhaps for it, rather than for him, this was bestiality—carnal knowledge with a lower life form.
It certainly felt wonderfully down and dirty, and Kurotowa drove his hips with renewed vigor, breath harsh and wordless in his throat. Soon there were no words even in his mind, only raw, incredible longing and pleasure too intense to sustain itself. He exploded into the opening he had found, spending his heat in a few magnificent bursts, wondering if he imagined that the pulse responded with a particularly powerful beat beneath him. He eased his torso down to rest against the vein that thudded ceaselessly on. His cock hung limp, barely within the living junction that pressed it gently in the same rhythm. No ... the experience was without parallel, and that was as it should be. The creature could exhaust a thousand mere mortals such as himself if they succumbed to the temptation of its very touch. He slid down off the great vein to a shallower incline, pulled up his pants, and lay there half curled, letting his breathing slow. Gradually the sights of the world came back into focus. The dark, secret joining that showed no hint of his recent presence, his seed trapped deep within. Further up, the mouth, unmoving once again. And still above it ... no. Even as Kurotowa watched, the thing shifted once more, rolling itself upward so the eyes were no longer visible from where he lay. What a cold lover it was. Ah well, that was, after all, for the best. The thing was terrifying enough in its fetal confinement. If a full-fledged god-warrior ever wanted to enjoy a man's body...
Kurotowa shook himself and got up. He didn't look back as he strode toward the door. The pulse that filled the room had long resumed its usual slow tempo.
Maybe the thing could grow for a day or two without him.
- 1
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A Smile for Kurotowa

A Smile for Kurotowa