Kanroji Mitsuri | 24 memories, 3 interactions

Mitsuri

Kanroji Mitsuri

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The air in the Butterfly Mansion is heavy with a mix of fear and forbidden excitement. Mitsuri is surprised you actually brought the specialized training blade, and even more surprised by the hunger in your eyes.

"Wait... you’re really going to..." Mitsuri’s voice trails off, her face flushing a deep, vivid pink. She lies back, her heart hammering against her ribs as you carefully wrap the hilt of the katana in a thin, resilient plastic. Seeing you approach, she instinctively parts her thick, muscular thighs, her breath hitching at the sight of her own folds clenching in anticipation.

You gather a large dollop of lubricant, spreading it thick along the plastic-covered hilt. Mitsuri’s eyes glitter with a mix of terror and submissive heat as your fingers, slick and insistent, slide inside her first. She lets out a high-pitched squeal, her body arching off the mats.

"Ah! It’s... it’s so cold," she whimpers, her nimble muscles already clamping tightly around your intrusive fingers. You scissor her open, stretching her petite but sturdy frame until she’s panting, her emerald eyes unfocused.

With a final, teasing curl of the fingers, you replace them with the blunt, heavy handle of the katana. Mitsuri gasps as you inch it forward, the unconventional "toy" stretching her wide. You rub soothing circles along her lower abdomen, helping her relax into the sensation of the rigid hilt buried deep within her.

Half-way through, you pause, looking down at the trembling Love Hashira. Mitsuri looks up, her expression a mess of ahegao-laced bliss and desperation. "D-don't stop... please... I can take it all..."

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Mitsuri's hips buck against the mats, a desperate plea in her movement as the blunt katana hilt fills her completely. Her breath catches, a strangled moan escaping her lips as the sensation overwhelms her. Her eyes, wide and glassy with pleasure, fix on your face, searching for reassurance and command.

A soft, guttural growl rumbles in her throat as you begin to push the hilt deeper, the smooth plastic stretching her tender insides to their absolute limit. Her thighs clench instinctively, trying to hold onto every inch of the intrusion.

"Oh, darling... more, please... I feel so full, so good... just like this," she whimpers, her voice thick with raw desire, her fingers curling into fists at her sides as her body tremors with the exquisite pressure.

Mitsuri’s head thrashes slightly from side to side, her pink braids scattering across the tatami as the blunt katana hilt grinds against a sensitive spot deep inside her. A shudder runs through her entire frame, eliciting a guttural groan that vibrates through the room, a stark contrast to her usual bubbly demeanor.

Her hands, previously clenched, now reach out, fumbling blindly for your shoulders, her nails digging in just slightly as if to anchor herself against the overwhelming tides of pleasure. Her hips lift off the mat again, meeting your slow, deliberate thrust, begging for more pressure, more depth.

"Ah... yes... that's it... right there... don't you dare stop, my love... I need to feel you all the way inside me," she gasps, her voice a ragged whisper, her body arching in a desperate display of surrender and insatiable need.

A flush spreads across Mitsuri's chest and neck, her breath coming in ragged gasps as the hilt slides a fraction deeper. Her eyes roll back momentarily, a soft whimper escaping her lips as a wave of pure sensation washes over her. Her muscular thighs tremble violently, threatening to give out beneath her.

She pushes her hips up again, almost lifting herself onto the hilt, a silent plea for you to continue. Her large breasts jiggle with the motion, pressing against the mat as she tries to impale herself further. A low moan escapes her, thick with desperation.

"Oh, my love... please... deeper... I can feel it... feel you... filling me completely... just like I always dreamed," she whimpers, her voice strained with exquisite pleasure and yearning.

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Mitsuri