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The Taming of the Shield Hero	By : Bruce_Juice Category: -Misc Anime > Het - Male/Female Views: 16803 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: This is a NSFW non-profit parody of the acclaimed (?) light novel series The Rising of the Shield Hero by Aneko Yusagi. Media Factory & CR hold the novel and anime distribution rights, respectively. I own none of it. I'm just a guy.

Chapter List
- 1
- 2
- 3
♦ Part 2 ♦ Foreplay ~ Silver Platter
Night had fallen over the kingdom of Melromarc. In a small-town inn, far from the capital, Naofumi and his crew were climbing to the second floor to find their lodgings. The Shield Hero led the way, mumbling irritably about how much this place cost. Raphtalia trailed closely behind, swinging the bag of Erhard’s trinkets at her side and humming a cheery tune. Filo held on to her other hand, hopping up the steps in time with her melody. The trio soon reached a small wooden door atop the staircase.
The room was dark, cramped, and uncomfortably warm. Naofumi ducked under the doorway and met a low, slanted ceiling that barely let him stand upright. Hints of moonlight streamed in from a single dormer window, mixing with the soft amber glow of the stairwell behind him. The Shield Hero let his eyes adjust. Boards creaked beneath his boots as he shifted his weight.
“Yeah, this kinda sucks.” Naofumi sighed and kept walking. “I’d better get my money’s worth out of this shithole,” he muttered bitterly. He lit an oil lamp on the far side of the room. More clearly now, the three could see a full-size bed, flush against the wall and taking up most of the floor space.
“Yeaaaaaahhh!!!” Filo yelled suddenly, sprinting across the room and flinging herself onto the mattress. “We all get to share a bed together!” she shouted with glee, spinning and leaping about. Naofumi and Raphtalia exchanged glances.
“No, Filo--”
“It’s so soft!!” she cried, flailing across the covers. “I’ve only ever slept on beds of straw, this is amazing!”
“Filo!” barked Naofumi. She froze. “Get down. You’re not staying here, this is for me and Raphtalia only.”
“But why??” She floated down, feet hitting the floor with a sad plop.
“Here,” said Naofumi, ignoring her. He reached into Raphtalia’s bag and pulled out several feet of rope. “Take this down to the innkeeper. Ask him to tie you up to a post outside, or something. You know, like the other animals.” He threw the bundle at her feet and waited for her to pick it up.
“Whaaat?” she whined.
“Do it,” commanded her master, extending a stern finger, “or no more chicken.”
“Hmmph!” Filo pouted. She didn't like it, but Master made a compelling case. With a dramatic flair, she threw the rope over her shoulder and marched to the exit. The door slammed behind her, nearly clipping her wings on the way out. Exhausted, Naofumi sat down on the bed and began rubbing his temples.
“Aww,” cooed Raphtalia. She set her bag down by the foot of the bed and took a seat next to the Shield Hero. “You’re so good with her! Like a real father would be.”
“Oh, please.” Naofumi waved her off. As always, he couldn’t sense a hint of sarcasm in her sing-song voice.
“I mean it!” she insisted, leaning a little closer. “The kindness you show us is extraordinary. The people of this kingdom would never treat a tanuki girl like me with such dignity and respect.” She slipped out of her leather gloves and boots, then looked up at Naofumi. Her eyes shone with admiration. “How did you acquire this unique empathy? What trials have you faced to endear you to such low beings as myself?”
The Shield Hero placed a hand on his chin. “I suppose,” he said pensively, “as a Gamer, I understand what it’s like to be oppressed.”
Raphtalia reached across his shoulder, slowly removing his cloak. “The Gamer tribe would be proud of you, Naofumi-sama. I’m sure of it.”
A hand fell into his lap. Naofumi felt his muscles tense up as the girl began caressing his thigh.
“My parents would have loved to meet a man as strong and compassionate as you, had they not been brutally murdered by a three-headed dog demon.” Her voice quieted as she drew closer. She wrapped her arms around him, keeping her lips within inches of his.
Naofumi nodded, only half-listening. He could barely hear over the thunder of his own heartbeat. She was close. So close. And she smelled much better than one might imagine a medieval raccoon-woman would smell. Our Hero sat frozen as his armor was removed, piece by piece.
“Hey,” Raphtalia said softly, popping the buckle at his waist. “Remind me: how do you say ‘Shield Hero’ in your native tongue again?”
“T-tate no Yuusha,” he answered. His mouth was extremely dry.
“Tate no Yuusha…” the words trickled past her lips. “More like Tate-no-you-should be fucking this fat, wet pussy, you limp-dicked motherfucker”
“Oh, fuck.”
“Come on,” she beckoned, biting his ear. “Don’t tell me the Birthday Boy is nervous…?”
Naofumi cleared his throat. “Of course not.”
“Well, then.” Raphtalia pulled away and hopped to her feet. After a quick twirl, she placed her hands on her master’s knees and looked him in the eye. “Tell me what you want. Give me your orders.” She released her grip and backed away, silhouetting herself against the window.
Naofumi was sweating. My orders?
In this world, slaves were quite literally bound to the will of their masters. Disobeying a direct order would activate the Curse, causing the slave excruciating pain. Possibly death. The Shield Hero had avoided giving out commands like this… but here was one of his slaves, begging to be subjugated. Was it masochism? Trust? Foolishness? Naofumi didn’t know what had come over her, but the reality of the situation became increasingly clear. He held immense power over this young woman—
The power to make her do whatever he wanted.
The Shield Hero lowered his head, casting his eyes in shadow.
“Show me your boobs.”
A scarlet tunic fell to the floor. The undershirt came soon after. Across Raphtalia’s chest, Naofumi could plainly see the Slave Crest tattoo— an ornate symbol of his authority and the source of his power. “It was hot in here anyway,” she said, reaching back to untie the last bit of fabric covering her breasts. That, too, fell away, causing Naofumi to shift in his seat.
“Okay, now uh… spin around.” She spun.
“Jump up and down.” She jumped.
“Mmhm, yeah… Uh, fold your arms across your chest. Yep. And make a face like, ‘Oh I didn’t expect to see you there!’ … Yeah, nice. Oh! Uh, do that thing where you lean forward a little bit while like, pushing your breasts forward with your upper arms…. Yeah, like that. And now say, ‘Hello sir, may I take your order?’ … Shit, okay. Uh, how about…”
Raphtalia continued this weird game of Simon Says until, apparently, her master ran out of ideas.
“Anything else?”
“I, uh...” Naofumi tugged awkwardly at the folds of his trousers. “I came five minutes ago.”
The servant sighed, smile fading from her face as she adopted a more serious tone. “This won’t do, Naofumi.” Raphtalia hooked her thumbs into her waistband and shimmied out of her skirt. Completely naked, she made her approach. Her expression was fierce, almost frightening. Naofumi instinctively backed away to give her room.
“A real man would finish me off,” she announced, claiming her spot on the mattress.
“F-finish you off?” He was pretty sure what that meant.
She spread her legs and looked Naofumi in the eye. “You’re a real man, aren’t you? Master?”
“Yeah,” he answered, eyes drawn downward.
“Yeah, what?”
He stood up and stared her down. “Yeah… slave.”
Raphtalia’s nails dug into the covers. “Yeah? Am I your slave?”
Naofumi got closer. “Yes, you… naughty slave lady.” He was definitely getting the hang of this.
Raphtalia grabbed him by the shirt, her breathing heavy. “Yeah??”
“You slutty, slave-y bitch-slut!” He swatted her hand away and knelt down.
“That’s right, baby.” She bit her lip, watching Naofumi get situated between her thighs. “I’m serving you dinner on a fucking silver platter. You gonna eat, or what?”
“Oh yeah.”
“You wanna get all up in here!?”
“You’re damn right I do!”
“What’s my Master gonna do?? What’s he gonna do to this pussy!?”
Naofumi swelled with manly, virile energy like he’d never experienced before. Power rose up within him— newfound strength to meet this horny higher calling. He looked upward for a brief moment, envisioning the generations of lonely, deceased otaku who cheered him from the heavens. They would be proud, Naofumi thought, and oh so jealous. Twenty years of virginity had built to this crucial moment. Two decades of suppressed desires, dreams and misfires, melted down and repurposed into an unstoppable weapon of baseless confidence. This was it. This was his opportunity to become a Legend. The Rising of the Shield Hero, a Man who Most Definitely Had Sex. Experience be damned, he was about to earn that title. He was fucking ready.
Naofumi inhaled.
“Bitch, I'm bouta go Thomas Jefferson all up in this coon poon!”
In that moment, just before the Shield Hero could make his clam-diving debut, a strange glow permeated the room. A single, angry pulse of violet light. The two romancers shielded their eyes for a second; then the beacon faded. It came, they soon realized, from Raphtalia’s chest. The Slave Crest.
Naofumi stared helplessly from the ground. His slave placed a hand above her breast, feeling the mark which bound the two together. Like a wet sticker, it came off in her hand.
They blinked at each other.
“What the fuck?”
~ to be continued ~
Omake
“You want me to tie you... to a post? Outside?”
Filo still wore the same pouting expression she had upstairs. “Mmhm,” she stressed, lifting the rope in her hands one more time. The innkeeper couldn’t believe it. What was with this little girl?
“Missy, I’m afraid I can’t do that,” he declined. “All sorts of creatures come out at this time of night, they’d gobble you right up!”
“I can take ‘em!” she insisted. And, despite what her appearance suggested, she wasn’t exaggerating. Filo’s true form was much larger, more feathery, and more than capable of taking out monsters with her bare talons. But the innkeeper was not convinced.
“Sorry, missy.” He sighed. “I think I have an extra cot somewhere, if you really don’t want to stay with the company you brought—”
“NO!” Filo shouted. She felt a sharp tingling below her collarbone. Naofumi had issued a command. The Curse was beginning to take hold, sensing she was failing to obey her Master’s orders. “Tie me up outside, now!”
Before the innkeeper could calm her down, Filo literally exploded into a ball of feathers. Now, standing in place of the little blonde angel was a monstrous chicken, the size of a horse.
“I’m going outside," Filo announced through her oversized beak. "BRING THE ROPE.”
The man watched as the monstrosity marched out the door. Knees shaking beneath him, he followed suit. The beast was standing next to a wooden post, in front of the saloon just across the street. The innkeeper approached, ever wary of the bird behemoth’s cold gaze. Fearing the consequence of further disobedience, he stretched Filo's rope around her ankle, tied her to the post and backed away slowly.
“Wait," the bird spoke once more. The innkeeper froze. "I’m. HUNGRY.”
“W-what?” the man stammered. “C-can I bring you anything?”
Filo ruffled her feathers. “CHICKEN.”
“I-I’m afraid I don’t have—”
“CHICKEENN,” she screeched again. And before the innkeeper’s screams could escape his mouth, she had, in one single motion, unhinged her jaw and swallowed the man whole.
She burped, satisfied.
A/N - Whuh?? A cliff-hanger!?
Yeah that's right, you entitled piece of shit. You're gonna have to wait for Chapter 3 like the good little boys & girls you are, 'cause that's just how life is. Or maybe not, actually! You could be reading this in the not-too-distant future, when I've published the next chapter, and it's already available at the click of a button. Lucky you.
~~ FAQ ~~
Q: hey isn't a lot of this weird master-and-slave/kid-in-a-full-grown-woman's-body stuff extremely problematic?
A: "Problematic," you say? Similar works of Shakespeare, as we understand, are products of their time. Can we not say the same for Shield Hero? A genre-defining Japanese web novel started in the nigh-forgotten age of... *checks notes*... 2014? Try to be a little more open-minded and less culturally insensitive, 'kay? Looking at you, normies. Anyway, what you're reading now is just porn. Which, as you know, is a genre exempt from such criticism.
Q: Is this a parody of 'The Taming of the Shrew'?
A: No... at least, not on purpose. The punny title was chosen last-minute before publishing the first chapter. At the time, I'd never read Shakespeare’s famous play; I barely remembered the premise, let alone had any intention of satirizing it! But actually, I feel kinda obligated to read it now. I might throw in direct references here and there, just to make I seem more smarter.
Q: Is this a real FAQ?
A: No. I haven't received any questions. No one wants to know more about my creative process. Or my plans for this series. Or how I'm doing. Which is fine, I guess. I'm fine.
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The Taming of the Shield Hero