Yuba's Touch

The real shock came when, on a caprice of the moment, his fingers were replaced with his soft wet tongue. Perhaps because the moisture better conducted electricity, or due to some secret association with the act of cunnilingus, Ifurita felt the sexual tension soar within her. If she possessed a cunt, it would have been slack and wet. If she had a clitoris, it would have been as stiff as his prick had been. If she breathed, she would have been panting and moaning from the exertion. As it was, she had no real physical way to express what she was feeling. She could only vocalize.

"Please, continue," she told him, voice tinged with a pleaful tone.

"Let me know when it happens," Yuba asked, resuming his titillation with his fingers.

"I'm... doing it now," she reported, finding it suddenly hard to speak as the emotion overcame her. "I'm orgasming now."

Yuba looked up to see the tight expression on her face, the rest of her body having gone deathly still. It was when she turned her eyes to look up at him that he knew her orgasmic peak had passed.

As Yuba had pointed out, the bed really was too small for the two of them. Once he had started to drift off to sleep, she freed herself from his loose embrace and silently stalked out onto the shrine's outdoor steps.

Bending over, she opened her mouth and evacuated her interior of the earlier evenings tea, tinged with the thicker fluid of Yuba's ejaculate. An unglamorous act, perhaps, but no different than retreating to the bathroom after lovemaking; it was simply a matter of necessity.

Standing upright again, Ifurita looked up at the stars, her thoughts genuinely at peace. To put it in a human context once again; she was happy.

* * *

As one would expect, their lovemaking grew more sophisticated as time went on; but so too did their relationship in general. Yuba turned his scientific curiosity from the hidden machinery to the garden itself, becoming convinced it was a living link to the El-Hazard of old, and may be the key to making the world verdant once more. Ifurita began to share his interest in his work, and became an active partner in both his research and the more ordinary chores of day to day life.

A curious consequence of their physical relations was revealed the very next time Yuba went to wind her. Having inserted the staff, Ifurita was wracked with a series of orgasms the likes she'd never thought possible. Both found the incident rather amusing, but they also learned to incorporate the time of winding as a ritual in their lovemaking.

Years passed, and they grew comfortable together, somehow never becoming bored with each other's company. They created some very inventive games to play, and Yuba had even become something of an amateur storyteller. One of the fondest memories she had was when Yuba described their having a fictional daughter. He told her all about how she would finder herself pregnant, her belly gradually swelling at the months past until finally giving birth. Ifurita, not having real breasts, wouldn't be able to feed her, but that would be alright as they discover she inherited her mother's keyhole; they'd simply wind her! They spent a surprisingly long time debating what her name would be. It was all in fun, of course, but she wondered if there wasn't a tinge of sadness behind his telling of that story. Even though he never said otherwise, Ifurita believed there must have been some desire on his part to have a real child -if only as a matter of biological imperative. If she'd any regrets about their time together, it was that she was incapable of doing this for him -or indeed, for herself.

Still more years passed. Yuba's face gradually acquired gentle lines around the eyes, her hair receding back, his voice becoming subtly deeper. She remained unchanged of course. She continued to guard the garden, chasing away the rare visitor who accidentally stumbled upon their private hidden enclave. Yuba once remarked that her vociferousness in keeping the garden clear of strangers was borne of a jealous desire to keep him to herself. She suspected he just might be right. The more he changed, the more she wanted things to remain the same.

But time would not stand still, not even for her.

* * *

The visitors arrived by accident on a damaged air skiff. They wouldn't leave at her warning, and to her alarm, even called her directly by name. In the ensuing melee, the slim dark haired youth had managed to grab hold of her staff -and entered her mind.

Thus she met Makoto Mizuhara and his companions. A surprising union, for not only was he from another world with the same power of synchronization as Yuba, but he had met the original model of Ifurita.

Soon after their arrival came Kalia; or more precisely, the DemonGod Kalia, living key to the Trigger of Destruction. It was the very event she had been constructed for. Long buried dormant, the response program now dictated Ifurita's actions. For the first time, she was forced to say good bye to Yuba. As difficult as that was, the battle with Kalia proved to be even more so. The dark skinned DemonGod had withstood every attack Ifurita could throw at her. Kalia then countered by draining away all of her energy through the vulnerable portal of her keyhole, her consciousness locked away into darkness.

She should have been dead, but Makoto and Yuba found a way to restore her power. It was Yuba, winding her with the PowerKey Staff, who used only his sheer force of will to overcome the seal Kalia had placed on her, releasing her from that abyss. But, the dangerous effort had come at the expense of his own life. With Makoto's aid, she was able to defeat Kalia, the activated Trigger destroyed. But, in the aftermath...

* * *

Twilight was giving way to darkness. Laid out over the grave, Ifurita's body remained unmoving, eyes closed. If anyone had been present to touch her skin, she would have felt quite cold. No longer capable of movement, her entire awareness of the physical world began to fade as the last of her energy reserves continued to ebb.

Gradually, she lost all sense of time as well. It was as if she was locked in a room, the walls of oblivion closing in around her mind. She thought for a panicked moment that this was to be ultimate fate, that death would truly be the end after all.

But, it wasn't. Expecting to be enveloped in the numb blackness of non-existence, she found herself surrounded by light. Looking up, she saw an outstretched hand. Taking it, she saw now who it was offering her aid.

"Yuba," she gasped.

He smiled, looking not like the old man they'd lain to rest, but the youthful figure she'd known when she was first activated. Overwhelmed with joy, she rushed to him, hugging him tight in both arms. Having transcended the constraints of their mutual bodies, the two now met for the first time as true equals.

"Are you frightened," he asked, noting the trace of reticence in her voice.

"No, never," she said. "Not as long as I'm with you, I could never be afraid."