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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
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♦ Part 3 ♦ Master & Slave ~ Temporary Tattoo
“What the fuck just happened?”
“It came off.”
“Yeah, I see that. Why? What did you do!?”
Raphtalia sat motionless, the detached Crest resting in her palm. She stroked her thumb across an invisible membrane, staring at the curious symbols printed there. Three interlocking rings with fang-like appendages, inscribed within some large, devilish rune and pointed rays. She knew them well. The brand looked the same as on the day she met her Master. But there was something more. Now, on its back—
“Hello?” Naofumi grew impatient. “Say something, dammit!”
The tanuki girl kept her eyes on the Crest as she turned it over. “There’s something written here.”
Her Master blinked. “Uh, okay? What does it say?”
“How should I know!?” She curled up her legs and pouted. “My Shield Daddy never taught me how to read!”
“Oh, God. Never call me that again.” Naofumi snatched the item from her outstretched hand. He scanned both sides, noticing the newly-appeared magic message on its back. He translated it aloud with the aid of his Hero’s Utility Display (HUD).
“WARNING. Slave Crest™ v1.04 has been forcibly deactivated. In accordance with Melromarc law (Article IV, Sec. 13-2, ‘Human-Demi-Human Relations’), Limited Warranty is void when the Customer says some objectively, undoubtedly fucked up shit to His or Her Servant(s). Particularly that involving deceased Presidents of the United States. Seal may be reapplied with warm water. Binding runes may only be reactivated at the Servant’s behest. Fees may apply, at the discretion of the Dealer. See page 114 of the Slaver’s Handbook for more infor—
“Oh, what the fresh hell is this!?” Naofumi crumpled the unwelcome news in his hands, and tossed it aside. Hurriedly, Raphtalia picked it up. The elastic sheet returned to form within her grasp.
Why now? Naofumi rose to his feet, huffing. This was supposed to be the night of my life, and I have to fuck it up. Fucking idiot. Fuck me, fuck this bitch... and fuck slavery! What the fuck is it even good for?
“‘Servant’s behest’...” Raphtalia wondered out loud. “What does that mean?”
The Shield Hero steadied his breath. “It means you’re in charge of reapplying the Seal.” He paused, then quickly reclaimed his seat next to Raphtalia. “You want that, right? Remember back then, after my duel at the palace? You volunteered for the Crest to be reinstated. We’ve gone through this before.”
“I’m… in charge?”
“Yeah, so hurry up!” Naofumi pressured on. “It says we need warm water. We probably just need to dampen it, like a… like a postage stamp. Just lick it and slap it back on. Go on!” He hated the pleading tone of his own voice. He hated this feeling.
Raphtalia observed the glowing brand once more. She’d often pondered its meaning. It was a symbol of her allegiance to Naofumi. She’d seen it in the mirror, well-rested and satisfied, grateful for her Master’s kind treatment. It was a symbol of her past. She’d seen it burned into the corpses of her fellow captives, who hadn’t the sense to follow their masters’ orders. It was a symbol of freedom, however ironic or incomplete, that she owed to one man alone. She knew what it meant. In some long-forgotten, arcane language, it spelled a single word. Slave.
“Take off your shirt, Naofumi.”
“Excuse me?”
“I’m doing what you said. Just take it off.”
Naofumi clenched his teeth, locking eyes with the girl as he gripped the bottom of his shirt. “Fine,” he grunted. “But I don’t—”
“Slowly.” Raphtalia shifted quietly as she gave the command. Naofumi stretched the fabric over his torso, drawing breath as it covered his eyes. When the garment was finally tossed aside, his servant took a different form. Her gaze was predatory. Her posture, broad and imposing. And her sword hand, famous for slaughtering the Shield Hero’s many foes, had deftly slipped between her legs and battled now for her own pleasure.
Her master’s face became red in an instant. “W-what are you…?”
“I’m getting ready.” For another minute, they maintained their distance. Raphtalia concentrated on her subject, feeling hotter with each passing moment. Naofumi was an animal on display, unable to move from the prison of her gaze.
“Uhm.”
“Shush… Here. Hold this.” Raphtalia sat up and passed the Crest on to Naofumi. She raised her other hand, glistening with liquid anticipation, and slathered the back of the seal with said sauce.
“Holy shit.”
“That’ll hold better than my spit, I think.” The boy nodded slowly in response, and she smiled. “Well, Naofumi? Are you ready?”
He swallowed. “Am I— are you ready? What are you waiting for, just take the damn thing and— guh!”
With a surprising display of force, Raphtalia grabbed her master’s hands and swiftly slammed them into his own chest. The impact knocked him back. He gasped for air. Once again, magic runes filled the room with a fierce violet light. Still reeling from the attack, Naofumi shouted at her.
“Ow! What… what the fuck are you doing!? I…” He looked down at his chest, and spread his fingers across the Brand. “No. Come on.” He clawed at his sternum, frantically searching for the edges of the Seal. But they had disappeared, as if the slave’s mark had always been etched into his flesh. A shadow spread across his panicked features. Raphtalia, still grinning, loomed over the young man as he retreated to the wall.
“You bitch.” Her hands fell at Naofumi’s feet. “You crazy, stupid bitch!”
She licked her lips. “Yeah, keep talking dirty.”
“I’m not talking dirty! I’m mad! I’m fucking pissed off!” He was backed into a corner, and his pursuer already closed the distance.
“I guess you are,” mused Raphtalia, “because lying to your Master could mean death with that thing on your chest.” Her fingernail touched the symbol in question, and slid down Naofumi’s abdomen. He sat there, trying to process what she just said. Her hands continued to explore.
“Tell me, since you’re so honest…” she beckoned as she found her target. “Do you like that? Do you want to keep going?”
“Nn…” Naofumi felt a dull pain in his chest. Oh God. Was that from the earlier assault? Was this an asthma attack? No, that wasn't it... it had to be the Crest. It must have been that cursed mark, sensing he was about to lie through his teeth! He couldn't hide anything. Fearing the worst, he swallowed his pride.
“... Y-yes. I want it.”
Raphtalia released her grip. “Good. Then why don’t we continue where we left off? When you mentioned Mr. Jefferstone or whoever.”
In a moment, Naofumi was back to kneeling between his (former) servant’s legs. Staring down her womanhood. Wondering what exactly tanuki pussy was supposed to taste like. A garbage dump, probably?
“I don’t have all day.”
Shit.
“It’s exciting, no?” Raphtalia tilted her head back, her chest rising and falling as Naofumi found his sea legs. “Not knowing what your Master will say next… ah… if you’ll be able to satisfy them… and wondering what happens if you don’t…”
“Mnnf??”
“Aahh, it’s terrifying isn’t it?”
“.. Mnf.”
“Exhilarating, you might say… ah… right there, Naofumi. Right f… there.”
What!? Where the fuck was “there”? The Shield Hero tried to remember where he was fumbling about two seconds ago. C’mon bitch, gimme a clue… He listened for her moans as he swam around, utilizing them like some demented sonar system.
“Ah…” His Master grabbed fistfuls of his untidy mop and pulled him closer. He could barely even breathe through his nose.
Did the Slave Crest know where “there” was?? If he didn’t obey her command to find it, was that it? Instant punishment? Torture to pay for a meandering tongue? And was he allowed to come up for air without permission? I’m going to die, aren’t I. I’m going to die with a dry dick and face full of tanuki poontang. He continued, in spite of himself. On the other hand...
“Holy shit!” Her thighs trembled beneath his fingers.
There are worse ways to go.
Panting, his Master summoned him. “Up here… slave boy.”
They shared a long, deep kiss. In a warm embrace, Naofumi felt a strange mix of strength and helplessness. Listening to their pounding hearts, the roles of servitude seemed lost to time and memory. But then—
“Don’t forget your place.” Raphtalia forced her lover down onto the bed, then straddled him. She pressed their loins together and watched the man squirm.
“You want me to put it in, don’t you?”
“Uh… yeah.”
“Fucker!” She struck him. “Is that any way to talk to your Master!?”
“N-no, ma’am! I meant ‘Yes, ma’am!’”
“That’s right.” She thrust against him once more. “This dirty thing? You must be mad… I suppose I’ll have to clean it off first…”
“Yes, ma’am. Please.”
She took hold of the Shield Hero’s trousers, yanked them downward, and then paused.
“Hey, are you okay?” Raphtalia asked in a sudden whisper. “I got pretty into it and like, I totally just backhanded you across the face. Did that hurt? I’m so sorry.”
Naofumi blinked. “Uhm, yes? It hurt. Honestly, I’m scared for my life right now.”
“Right, well how about…” She vigorously shook her head. “How about you shut the fuck up, you bitch-ass motherfucker!? You no-good crusty cum rag! I’ll beat your fugly face till it’s flat as your skinny little ass. I can already barely tell them apart. Now show me that fat cock before I kick you out on the street, you filthy fucking animal!”
What is even happening. Naofumi let his Master strip him bare while he stared at the ceiling, dumbfounded.
“Look at this fucking thing,” Raphtalia said with a hand around his erect penis. She smirked. “They should call you the Spear Hero.”
Has she always been like this?
“I’m doing you a favor,” she continued. Her tongue played around the tip of his member, and he shuddered. “In exchange for this service…” She took a mouthful mid-sentence, then smacked her lips.
“... Under penalty of death, I order you not to come.”
Welp. It’s been a good run.
~ to be continued ~
Omake
“Excuse me, good sir!”
Erhard snorted, stirring from the depths of a long nap. “Wassuh… a customer?” He stretched his jowls and propped himself up behind the Weapons Shop counter.
“Why, yes!” A plump, dwarf-ish man waddled into the store. Erhard wrinkled his nose at the sight of his gaudy, aristocratic attire. He never got along with these types, but considering how slow business was lately, he couldn't complain. The funny fellow continued, “I’ve come to check the wares of this fine establishment. Have you any mace?”
“Yeah, I got maces. Whaddya need? There’s three iron flanges in the back, a couple bronze heads, and some older models I can bring out if you’re interested. I do custom orders, too, if y’already have something in mind and don’t mind waitin’ a couple weeks.”
“Ooh, splendid!” The aristocrat clapped his hands together. “Perhaps I’ll examine your selection of iron bludgeons.” Erhard nodded sleepily and made his way to storage, but he stopped as the expecting patron cleared his throat. “Prithee, before I stay further: I trust a purchase of arms at this lovely shop comes not without a complementary melon?”
The blacksmith turned back with a sour expression. “Excuse me?”
“Apologies,” the man bowed slightly. “There is much abuzz about this place. What persuades me so amongst these rumors, is the promise of a melon for my business! Have you any left?”
“Sorry, pal.” His lips curled slightly. “I don’t sell melons no more.”
“Oh, such a shame,” the pudgy man hung his head. “Suppose I should find better service then, near my home estate; Sir Trost’s selection is more my style, anyway. Farewell, good man.” The wealthy would-be patron shifted toward the exit.
“What!?” Erhard slammed his hands on the counter. “That’s miles away! You came way out here, just for a fucking melon!?”
“Fie! Oh judge me not for my love of fruit. Of all, I thought you’d understand.” He turned to leave once more.
“Hold it!” The blacksmith put two and two together. “You said there were rumors about this place. And while they may appeal to some pompous degenerate like yourself, it seems they’ve scared every other God-fearing gentleman out of my shop. Ain’t seen anybody in here for days now. What the hell are people saying!?”
“Ah!” the man sprung upward. “I’ve just the tale to tell, for your confusion I’ll dispel. Then, a sonnet for your troubles?”
Erhard groaned. “A sonnet would be trouble, yeah. No thank—”
It was too late. The obnoxious regal runt had cleared his throat and begun to speak in nauseating verse:
"Four Heroes fight; our kingdom may be saved,
Though with them one most curst and froward Shield.
None trust the fellow ‘cept his filly slaves,
And smith Erhard, whose weapons doth they wield.
A fortnight past, you may recall a scene
(As rumored, details wallow in dispute):
You made a certain bargain with this fiend,
Involving chains and violated fruits.
The melon fucker travels now, forsooth,
All manners of perversion in his mind:
Tongue in tail, or sword in sheath uncouth,
With girls of mental ages three and nine.
Oh curséd horny Shield, we wish him tamed.
Till then, we say, with you there lies the blame."
“Mother-fucker…” Erhard grumbled.
“I’m sorry, my good sir? I meant no harm, only to relay the message of local bards and—”
“Get the fuck out of my shop.” The blacksmith’s words were cold as ice. Fists clenched, he unleashed a long, angry sigh as the pompous poet left his sight.
"I am going to beat the ever-loving shit out of that boy."
A/N - Well, that took a while didn’t it?
Sorry to all three of you who were waiting for this story to continue. It fell by the wayside for several months, and well… now I have a little more free time. Quarantine brings out the best of us, you might say.
Yes, I read Shakespeare’s Taming of the Shrew since my last update. It’s… something, that’s for sure. Might keep making dumb references to it, as I did for this chapter’s omake. I wouldn’t say there are any meaningful parallels between that story and mine. But there are some unintentional ones, and I find that kinda funny.
I’d like to finish the next chapter soon. Eheh… we’ll see.
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The Taming of the Shield Hero