Shokan Mombat 3: Kouples

Finally starting to feel like I’m back on my feet after a bout covid, a regular cold thing, some dental stuff, and general stress. Bunch of comm work done over the last couple days and then cranked this one out in about 2 hours this morning. Special thanks to the person who commented on the Hentai Foundry entry with some ideas that molded into others I’d had in mind.

Apparently there’s another Mortal Kombat movie coming out? I haven’t really looked into it. Apart from the techno song, I never really got into the games or the movies. I just like a few of the designs. And most of said designs have nice tits. I have some respect, though, for the game that says the immortal demon lord and thunder god are on equal footing with a Hollywood stunt man and some cop.

But this’ much sweeter than that. An all-conquering warrior race becomes a single mom to a human baby that she raises as one of her own. I think I’ve said before that for a teenager who’s at least a foot shorter than everyone in his clan and almost failing combat training, he could probably annihilate your standard human combatant. It’s like he was raised by wolves but all the wolves knew barbarian martial arts and blood magic.

I’m pretty sure this story spits in the eye of some Mortal Kombat canon, but from what I understand, so does Mortal Kombat from time to time. It’s got time traveling wizards so who the fuck knows? This is some secluded clan or something. Whatever. I just like how the shokan four-armed warrior women looked.

I was glad to find that dating Sazeta was going smoothly as could be expected. We were both into reading and studying more than fighting, so I didn’t have to worry about a girlfriend who was too into sparring. I’d heard Durack grumbling after he’d been fooling around with his girlfriend and took an axe to the ribs. She’d visit him at the mender’s hut but she’d always remind him he should have blocked and not to be a baby about it. So my ending up with the one shokan who isn’t a tomboy was a bit of a blessing as the only human living in the realm.

So even as two of the smaller and weaker nerds around school, I think people were showing us a little more respect. My few bros were definitely happy for me, but the fact that we were a couple definitely rose us a few ranks up the social ladder. It wasn’t like there was the human custom of bullying to worry about; a school where you learned about breaking bones and had daily sparring didn’t leave a ton of room for more fighting. We were just in a comfortable spot where we weren’t being challenged or sized up by the alphas but weren’t really getting invited to parties. Not that there were many of those to begin with among the shokan.

Which started to change when the Savash Festival rolled around. It was a wild time of year, and one of the few days that humans might consider an actual holiday. Shokan were sort of busy killing and conquering so much that even the days remembering honorable warriors or glorious conquests became our equivalent of your National Pancake Day. We didn’t even remember most of them.

Savash was an important day because for once, it wasn’t about killing and fighting everything we could see. It was about fucking. Every three years, the shokan enforce that all breeding couples who are not already or were recently with child join in a ritualistic public mating. It’s lately been pitched as a celebration of bonding in our true, primal warrior spirits, but I think that’s just because it used to be a “make up for all our dead warriors so we can fend off our enemies” day that we don’t really need anymore. We got to a point where most of our actual threats are dead and our interdimensional raids were too successful to require mandatory reproduction.

While Sazeta and I had been boning at every opportunity, we weren’t considered bound as a breeding couple. So the holiday didn’t affect us much, but we used it as an excuse to fool around anyway. That was one benefit of having my shokan mom; courting and fucking your fellow warriors in training was actually expected of you rather than shamed. That, and the fact that practicing and growing up with mom had thickened my skin to where I wouldn’t bruise every time I slept with Sazeta.

After classes one day, we both hurried up to my room. I stopped by the kitchen where all four of mom’s hands were busy crushing various things into dinner to squeeze her in a quick hug before heading after my girlfriend. Kendar spared a hand to stroke my hair, sending a sense memory rushing through me every time. It was how she’d handle me a lot when I was still too young to roughhouse out of fear of her crushing me. My educatress/mom’s girlfriend Taraka was off updating her combat training at a teacher’s meeting (apparently they had slaughtered a new dimension of bug creatures and had some “fascinating” new finishers to discuss), so it was just the two of us again.

It didn’t mean I wouldn’t spend time with my horny new murder-nerd girlfriend, of course. We had our training leathers off before we hit the bed and I threw myself into her, connecting with what felt like a busty slab of stone. Sazeta giggled and wrapped all four arms around me, hoisting me up the extra food to meet her wide, narrow red eyes.

“Someone forgot Savash isn’t for another two days,” the scholarly shokan teased. Her stringy black hair tickled at my bare shoulders and chest as I rested against her broad and full breasts. I kissed over her speckled yellow chest, rubbing over her abs and up to her nipples.

“I don’t need a sacred day to want you,” I laughed back as I cupped one of her tits. I kissed and sucked around her hardening nipple as she moaned. She hugged her upper arms around my head, squeezing me tighter into her cleavage. Her lower hands slid between us, starting to squeeze my cock and balls in her three thick fingers. I moaned into her bosom as the intense gripping strength of the shokan got put to good use in jerking me off.

“Your stance has such a blatant weak spot, love,” Sazeta teased, grabbing me by the shoulders with her upper arms. For someone considered a scrawny bookwork for a shokan, she was still bigger and thicker than I was. I had come at her with my courting duel using speed and defense for a good reason, but that wasn’t really an option when we were having sex.

She easily maneuvered me to sit in her lap, planted between her muscular thighs. I shuddered between her show of strength and her warm, bare pussy grinding against my ass as her abs tensed against my back. Her hands kept pumping my cock and lightly kneading my balls as another arm went around my neck. It wasn’t tight enough to choke me, but it still presented her biceps in a perfect position for me to stroke and kiss all over. I was always a tits guy, but you’d find plenty of shokan who would bust a nut for a girl with some huge juicy biceps.

“I modified this position from a gezerean deathlock,” Sazeta purred in my ear. Ancient spirits, it was good to have a geeky girlfriend. Her free hand pulled at my hair to force me to look into her face.

“This would be where I would either deliver a threat or curse your ancestors… or bite your face open,” she said to me gently. The feeling of her power over me as she stroked her off was thrilling, to say the least, so I just kissed her on the spot. We locked into a long embrace, mixing her broad tongue and saliva with mine before I pulled back enough to breathe.

“You’ve convinced me to reconsider,” she chuckled as her thick thumb ran up the front of my shaft. I moaned and slumped into her, head nestled between her cushy tits and her lean, hard arm muscles. We both started to breath heavily, and I made sure that my squirming from her complex handjob ground my hip against her dampening pussy. It wasn’t long before I was leaking precum past her powerful fingers.

“You are weak, tiny hero,” she whispered to me. “Your blood flows too freely for you to last.”

I shivered from the intimate dirty talk. Saying shit like that to the wrong person got you stabbed. That level of trust to know it was just some horny teasing to egg you on and excite you was the real fun behind it.

“I’m surprised you lived through so many losses to service me like a common warslave,” I sighed back, running my hands up her arms and running my fingers through her hair.

“Says the shokan too fragile to bear all four of his arms,” Sazeta laughed softly. She let her roaming hand drift lower to firmly rub over my ribs where my second set ought to be.

“Perhaps I kept them tied behind my back. I only needed two to handle you.” I punctuated the statement by cupping her breasts and bouncing them in my palms, letting them overflow past my smaller hands. She grunted lustily and I felt her hump a bit harder against my hips.

“You all-mouthed little toad,” she grunted as she bit into my ear; at least I think it goes from a nibble to a bite when she draws a bit of blood. She stroked my dick even harder at a vicious pace that I’d gotten used to, her heavy fist audibly slapping against my pelvis.

“Ill-bodied stump of a wench,” I hissed back as I felt my load building and her clit grinding on my ass.

“Rejected, brittle boned babe,” she huffed heatedly.

“The same brittle bone that pinned you in that tent while our brothers roared for me to take you like a prize?” I panted. My head spun as I lost track of which of us came first, but we were still shaking and moaning together by the time I snapped back to reality. I relaxed into Sazeta’s many arms as I traced my fingers over whatever piece of her smooth, speckled skin that I could reach at the moment. Her muscles and curves flowed like a sexual river all over her vastly different body and I wanted to explore every bit. Her lean muscles pulsed as she shuddered in an aftershock of her orgasm.

“I need reprieve,” she sighed after a few minutes, kissing me on the lips again. It was universal shokan code for going to the bathroom. “Then I wish to see if you can take me before we eat.”

I shifted my weight to let her get back up, not that I could have stopped her if she really wanted. I was just being polite. She picked up her robe and slid it back on before stepping away. I caught my breath and savored the moment, grabbing a spare loincloth to clean off my dick. Even with the norm of your kid having sex with his classmates, I jumped a bit and yanked the blanket up to my waist when mom leaned into the room.

“Hey, mom!” I blurted before relaxing in the moment. She had to have seen me naked more times than Sazeta, and it wasn’t like shokan were big on modesty in clothing. Not when studded leather straps, a loin cloth and a few choice skulls could count as formal attire.

“Welcome home, child,” she said with a knowing grin. She entered and folded her upper arms casually. “We feast shortly. The meat was weaker than expected and broke apart easily for stew.”

“Sounds good,” I said with a nod. “Sazi’s just taking a break.”

Mom’s smile went a bit wider. “Tiring her out already. That’s my little warrior.”

She approached me and sat on the bed, patting a lower hand on my leg through the blanket. She seemed to consider something before she went for it, never one to hesitate for long.

“Savash is coming soon,” she reminded me. I nodded, Savi having reminded me somewhere in our heated makeout session.

“The guides have been asking me to make an appearance,” she added. Mom was one of the strongest warriors in the clan, so it wasn’t shocking that they’d want a big name like her to help fire people up. She had the kind of biceps I was talking about before. All muscle beneath those hefty tits and that mass of black hair.

“Are you actually going to? You’d need a mate, right?”

“It’s supposed to be for breeders,” she nodded. “But they said there’s exceptions for especially worthy or powerful shokan. That they could claim any mate and attend with them.”

I nodded along with the small talk. “Except Taraka’s out on her meeting,” I pointed out.

“It’s a ritual for spawning, child. She may not be the best candidate,” mom said with a grin, elbowing me in the side. I budged an inch or two from the playful nudge before scooting back closer. Not everyone got pregnant from the traditional orgy, but it really was about the effort. As much as they respected same-sex couples in the shokan, sometimes you just had a festival about putting dicks in vaginas.

“So would you like to come as my mate?” mom offered. THAT caught me off guard. I squeezed the blanket in surprise as she smiled warmly at me.

“You’ve been the only male in my life for all my years that I haven’t beaten to a pulp. I’ve fought for your life and your honor. I can think of no better suitor for my womanhood than you.”

Shokan were pretty indifferent when it came to incest. The idea just didn’t come up very often, and people thought it was odd but not disgusting. It probably helped that I was an entirely different species from my mom when it came to genetics. So even growing up with raised as an honorary shokan, the natural questions came up and thoughts (fantasies, even) about my mom had popped up here and there when I started getting to “that age.”

“My first Savash and it’s with my mom?” I asked a bit warily. Mom grinned again and wrapped a beefy arm around my neck to drag me into a headlock.

“Oh I see! One girlfriend and you think your mother’s just another old whip mule, do you?” she teased. She prodded at my sides and other tender spots to make me squirm and laugh. Neither of us took the time to notice or care as my naked body came thrashing out from under the blankets.

“No! Mom, you’re a badass hotty! I swear!” I cackled through her tickling strikes. I could find any good excuse not to, so I blurted out “I’ll go! Okay!”

“There’s my good little pinky,” she laughed as she loosened up her death grip on me. I slipped out of her hold, feeling my refreshed boner poking against my thigh. “Thanks. It was that or I have to grab some random thug, and you know I’ve beat and denied at least half of them before.”

“So what do I tell Sazeta?” I asked mom.

“You’re not a mating couple yet, so it’s not like either of you could have gone.” Mom shrugged with both sets of arms for emphasis.

“And if she says anything, tell her to take it up with me. You know she won’t.”

I nodded back. Sazeta wasn’t the possessive type, and she had the traditional short spar with my mom when they formally met. It went really well… in the sense that mom took it easy on her. We still had to replace the wall that mom smashed Sazeta clean through.

---

The festival was something else. I wasn’t normally allowed to attend, given my age and status as painfully single, but it had some more spirit than the usual celebrations I’d been to. The war holidays were there to remind us that we were slayers and warriors to our core, which always sort of hit different as someone born a human. The Savash Festival was one of the most chill things I’d ever been to outside of playing strategy games as a kid at a friend’s house. The point was clear. Your mate was already selected so there was no pressure on courting one another.

It was just the fenced in meeting grounds, a few casual guards patrolling the edges to shoo away any young ones trying to peek in. Some tribesmen had simple booths as they roasted massive beasts and passed out mugs of ale and booze. Low war drums played on a raised platform to fill the air above the constant murmur and chatter. Whatever kept everyone stocked and excited for the evening ahead.

I went in just my loincloth like it was another casual walk through town. Mom dressed up with her deep red hide loincloth and the black, studded leather straps that crossed in an X across her breasts. Her kuhlkak was strapped to her back, her weapon of choice when she was sent into actual battle. Imagine a claymore, but thicker. Then add a lot of extra spikes and edges. It was almost as much a club as it was a sword.

We wandered and ate the rich food for a while, letting mom greet and trade jovial jabs (both verbal and literal) with fans or fellow warriors. She had been through plenty of invasions and at least as many honor duels when she had been fighting to prove my worthiness as a shokan, so she had a hell of a reputation as a professional ass-kicker.

People didn’t mind me much either way. I was way past the point of getting dirty looks, my honor and status as a shokan established before I could talk. I also hadn’t accomplished much beyond keeping pace with my classmates despite a lack of arms and several inches on the shortest of them. So I got a lot of the usual “You respect your mother, you hear?” or “I’m sure she must be very proud” rather than any direct compliments. Not that I expected them to begin with.

The big event started proper as the music cut off. The warlord of the clan stepped onto the platform with his queen and gave a booming roar. As with tradition, the queen joined his bellow a second after his start, and the clan gave the same wordless warcry in reply. At least that was one thing I was pretty good at for a shokan.

Warlord Bahn gave a fairly predictable speech. Mom and I watched dutifully but her fingers drummed against mine in tune with the muted music, showing she wasn’t really paying attention. She’d told me about it before and it was truly nothing special. More of the usual “we are united and we are strong and remember your ancestors.” We’re not an especially creative species outside of how to mutilate somebody.

The warlord finally and suddenly grabbed his mate and tore off a piece of her top, mounting her on the stage. She gave a passionate cry and thumped her fists on his broad back, wrapping her legs around his waist to egg him on. The breeding orgy had formally begun.

Mind you, it was a heated but surprisingly organized orgy. Mom had never attended because she didn’t have an actual mate at the time, so it made sense that everyone was sticking to their existing partner. It was there to reproduce, not to devolve into hedonistic pleasure. The shokan really didn’t do much of anything “for fun.”

“Come,” mom said, taking my hands in her lower pair. She strode between a few of the shokan couples, bumping a few shoulders of embraced couples that wouldn’t move out of her way. We ended up behind one of the cooking tents, the heat and smell of greasy yog beast a comforting sense memory I’d never forget.

She sat down behind the tent, tugging me down to sit with her. Most people had gathered near the music for the ceremony while leaving each other enough elbow room to fuck their partner’s brains out. Mom took a swig of her mug of warm ale and offered me the rest. It was strong and bittersweet from the smell alone, like it was something the shaman gave me to clear my sinuses. I need a distraction, so I gulped it down anyway. Even as I winced.

“Bit too noisy out there for a laying, if you ask me,” she said conversationally. “I don’t need some worshipers arriving to ask me about a scar while I’m doing the deed.”

“Right,” I nodded. I set down the heavy mug and sighed. “Mom, I’m sorry.”

“What?” she asked obliviously. “Blood rum’s not for everyone.”

“I mean I’m sorry I’m… what I am. That I’m not a good shokan. I do my best, but I don’t have enough arms or muscles and you deserve a better mate than OW!”

Mom punched me in the shoulder. And hard! Not her playful “oh you rascal” kind of teasing but that was an actual punishment that was going to bruise at least. I rubbed my shoulder as she gave me a tight-lipped frown.

“Just when did I teach you to whine like a stuck mongrel?” she demanded sharply. “Huh?”

She smacked me in the same spot to add a lighter echo to the sting. I flinched and rubbed the sore spot tenderly.

“You didn’t…”

“And what part of all that shit the warlord yelled at us said ‘The shokan are a bunch of self-pitying cunts that make excuses like our ancestors did?”

“None…” I muttered, cracking a small smile at mom’s backhanded encouragement.

“Commander’s ghosts!” she cursed, shaking her head at the sky. “You grant me a beautiful son who’s a brilliant little beast and sleepin’ with the wisest in his class and then you suddenly turn him into a whiny little puss! What’s got into you today?”

I smiled a little wider and shook my head. “I don’t know. You’re like the warrior queen of the clan and you did all that work just to get me to be barely as good as any other shokan. I’m no tiny human, but compared to everyone…”

“Compared to everyone, you fight and train twice as hard,” mom finished for me. “You gouge and grab where they think unnecessary. You throw yourself at opponents that tower over you.”

She turned to sit face to face with me, gently taking my smaller hands in her lower pair. “Urik, you fight with the strength of eight arms in your two. You stab your little fingers past the shields of your enemies. You are as the thorn that felled Gartam. I watched you go from a precious pink blob that could barely stand with your mother’s help to a true shokan killing machine. You will never understand the pride I take in that, and I will rend you in half if you spit on that pride again.”

I smiled at her tender words. It wasn’t everyone who got such loving treatment from a woman like Kendar. I sniffed as I wiped some tears from the corner of my eyes, which I was quick to blame on the strong alcohol or the throbbing pain in my shoulder. There was this unspoken “shokan don’t cry” rule going on in our society, at least for anything short of breaking an arm.

“Feel better?” she asked as an upper hand stroked my hair.

“No,” I laughed. “My arm hurts like the hells.” Shokan weren’t creative, but we had a lot of words for pain. It was a necessity in this culture.

“Well stop pitying yourself and it won’t hurt!” she playfully scolded me. “And stop your complaining. You’ve got three more where that one came from.”

“I do not!” I laughed at her old inside joke with me. With my overwhelming feelings aired out, I started to settle down. There was the rhythmic beating of the war drums in the distance, echoing over the constant grunts and growls of numerous sexual partners.

“Are you ready now, my only male?” mom offered, squeezing my hands in her smaller pair.

“Yea. Thanks, mom.”

“Whatever you need, I would bleed to bring it to you,” she said with a nod.

She leaned down and kissed me, her usual, simple sign of affection. She lingered there near my mouth and kissed again. Slightly longer and firmer. We both slowly increased the intensity of the kiss until I was grabbing the straps around her chest. I slid them back to expose her round and heavy tits, carefully easing her sword onto the ground behind her. Her hands roamed all over me, one of them tugging persistently at my loincloth.

I opened my eyes to look into her yellow and red ones. They seemed different somehow. Wider and deeper, waiting for something. She grunted softly, bumping my chin with hers in an animalistic mockup of a kiss. I nudged her and grunted back, if a much softer and higher noise than my brute of a mom could do. She grinned all the same and laid back, leaning on her upper set of hands as she spread her legs before me. She tugged on the waist of my loincloth, pulling me after her as she shrugged off the last of her body wraps. Her plump tits and hard muscle was all but exposed to me as she led me close but clearly waited for me to make the first move.

After all her talk, I couldn’t help but take it as a challenge to her son’s manhood. If it wasn’t clear already, shokan don’t take challenges lightly. With a husky growl I grabbed and pulled at her loincloth. The waistband caught on something, so I only managed to loosen it rather than rip it off.

“Is that all you have? Is that show muscle, you delicate little flower?” mom teased with a wicked grin. It certainly helped trigger a bit of anger as I grabbed it with both hands and ripped her ceremonial garment away. Mom’s parted, muscular thighs were there waiting for me, her large and taut pussy right between them.

“There’s my real man,” mom encouraged, planting a quick kiss to the top of my head in the middle of my hair. Like a beast in heat, mom bared her teeth in her smile as she thumped an upper arm on her breast. She grunted in a simplistic challenge; an invitation to start a showdown.

Feeling spurred on and encouraged on a lot of levels, I smacked a hand into the side of her breast. It bounced and jiggled wildly but was much more solid than it looked. It stung my palm to do it, but I didn’t dare let up. In fact, my hand just indignantly slapped and pawed at her chest more aggressively, getting louder spanks as I thrust my way in between her legs.

“Don’t tell me you coddle your scrawny little Sazi like this,” mom purred. Her lower hands aggressively grabbed my hips, preventing me from even thinking about backing out.

“I’m a real woman. Not a whelp in training.” One hand smacked me hard on the ass, getting my stiff dick to prod against her pussy as it rocked from the impact.

“Show me how a shokan warrior fucks,” she purred.

I buried my hands in her breasts as I finally shoved my way inside her. I flexed my fingers as hard as I could as I squeezed the hell out of her tits, pinching and pulling on the soft, leathery flesh. I twisted and tugged at her nipples, drawing out deep moans from the massive woman that vibrated her abs against me.

Being inside her was utterly amazing. I didn’t have much to compare it to, but it was something completely different than Sazeta. My girlfriend was closer to my size and age, making for a tight fit that tightly held my cock. Mom was bigger than me in every way. She was a warm, looser fit as my cock just swam between her folds, pumping in and out of the wet folds that teased it all the way. My breathing picked up its pace but I kept thrusting, working my hips and legs as hard as I could to give her all I had.

I wouldn’t have believed it beforehand, but mom was completely loving it. Her lower hands roamed blindly over my hips and ass, keeping my nethers sensitive to her touch. Her solid body barely budged from my humping but she still gasped and bit her lip as I went at her. I certainly wasn’t filling her to the brim, but I was still feeling a thick, solid clit somewhere above my cock as I brushed against it. If she was anything like me, the fact that our heated lovemaking was between mother and son was certain spicing it up another level.

Not that it wasn’t amazing. People across the entire clan wished they could land a woman like my mother. I got to watch her thick muscles tense when I was doing an especially good job in exciting her, and her tits jiggled with every grope and thrust. Even my tightly squeezing and borderline abusing hands only seemed to turn her on more and couldn’t contain their wobbling, fluid motions.

“You are such a beautiful child,” mom mused breathlessly in the heat of the moment. She stroked a strong upper hand through my hair, giving me conflicting feelings of arousal and childhood memories. “Too good for this clan. Such a powerful warrior and virile mate to mount this dangerous of a shokan.”

She puffed up her chest, her hard pecs flexing to push them further into my hands. She balanced on her heavy hips so she could raise her upper arms, flexing them both to swell to their full size. I felt my dick twitch at the sight of the deadly woman that was my mother posing so shamelessly for me as sweat ran down her face and muscles.

“Show me you deserve it, child,” she huffed, an appreciated quiver to her voice. “Prove to me you are the son of Kendar. Take the womb that you rightfully came from as your most fertile ancestors watch over you.” She stroked his face with two muscular arms, fixating her gaze on him with an almost feral need.

“Fill up your mother’s hungering wound. I beg of you. Finish it!” she said sternly, but with a desperate hunger behind it.

My whole body went numb before being flooded with pleasure, leaning and thrusting my full weight into my mother. My balls slapped and settled between her muscled thighs and just atop her full, toned ass as I came inside her. I moaned and shuddered, smearing my sweat and drool across her spotted tits. My eyes fluttered shut, just to force them open again to stare up at her. Mom’s face was a flickering mix of approval; pride replaced by hungry lust and back to shocked admiration of the strangely, impossibly intimate moment of her son cumming inside her.

I couldn’t quite tell where or how deep my cum went inside her, but it felt amazing. I broke into an uncontrollably passionate scream that trailed into moans and leaned into her, just to find myself tipping over backward. One of mom’s lower arms caught behind my back, easing me to the ground as she mounted me in the dirt.

“Mommy,” I moaned softly but she was already humping. My cock throbbed, fading fast but seeming to try and stay stiff for her. I realize what was going on as her thick, almost muscular clitoris ground directly over my softening cock.

“Just… second,” she huffed desperately. She rubbed the wet nub over me rapidly, turning my dick into a slick, warm surface for her to get off on. Her juices ran over onto my belly, even before she burst in her own orgasm. All four hands braced on the ground as she straddled and rode me. All I could think to do was latch my lips around one of her hanging teats, sucking and biting on the hard nipple until she squirted noisily all over my lap. It flooded my crotch as her booming howl of pleasure felt ready to burst my ear drums with the familiar warcry she’d taught me since I was learning to talk.

I grunted as her bulky body collapsed on top of me. It was a rare moment of weakness in mom, and my heart raced to see her like this. Her soft, desperate panting in my ear got me to instinctively stroke at her hair and neck, kissing her tits and beneath her chin as the highest I could reach. I didn’t complain about the devastatingly crushing weight of my war goddess of a mother laying on top of me, but my forced breaths barely pushing at her chest must have tipped her off.

“Sorry,” she panted. “But… I’d thought of that a lot.”

“Me too,” I admitted bluntly. She chuckled and tilted her head down to kiss my cheek.

“Then we must do this more often!” she laughed wearily. “I can’t see us waiting for this every few years.” She hefted herself back upright with a grunt, dragging me along and holding me up with her right arms. She patted me firmly on the back, firm enough to send a stinging echo into my damaged shoulder. It would sting after the orgasmic afterglow faded.

“Do you think our girls will mind?” I asked as my body tried to catch up with everything that had happened.

“It’s not as though you can breed me. One benefit of having turned you shokan rather than born one,” she smirked. “Tell them what you like. I’m not giving you up. I nearly lost an ear defending your honor, so I’ll be damned if either of them are what make me lose you.”

I nodded and leaned into her, resting my head against one of her chest muscles like I always used to. “Same. I’m not leaving you for anyone, mom. I am loyal to my blood.”

Mom smiled and ruffled my hair with a spare hand as we sat together, leaking cum and smelling meat while the music and fading, orgasmic moans played in the distance.

“Spoken like a true man. I could not be prouder.” She hugged me tightly to her, flooding me with the musk of her sweat and sex. “And anytime you need anything… punch or some encouragement or a little something extra, you just let me know. No matter where I am, I’ll always come for my little boy.”