Oni Land

Appearance:

The name shocked those with weak wills into a frenzy. Chills and thrills conveniently shared in a fifty acre lot. Oni Land served as an amusement park offering rides, concession, walk-in spooky houses, and plenty of dining options. It was like a year-round Halloween attraction where every day was one filled with spooks and funnel cakes. The attract was a lot more popular with adolescents than any other age group, and it was expected that a lot of angsty teens in one place caused trouble. Most cases there were fights among small tribes of teens, which were easier to break up than expected. Unarmed security is generally not taken too seriously, though even the teenagers know not to test their luck with a trained ninja carrying more blades on their body than their mom's kitchens all put together.

What doubled the intimidation factor was perhaps the most clever use of a blunder. During his evening snack while enjoying a cherry funnel cake he managed to drip some of the sauce upon his white flak jacket. The stain was easily convinced as blood given the low light conditions as dusk settled in. Although unintentional he caught on pretty quick that he was even more intimidating than before. Needless to say, tonight was going to be an easy pay day.

Sanzo stood at the heart of Oni Land, which was where most stalls and food establishments were set up. It was helpful to stick around the most densely populated area as a deterrent, plus if any issues were reported by the regular security detail they could quickly report to him at a known location. The sun had already set and the sky bore a lavender shade as the remaining daylight would slowly fade over time until night would be officially set. He had two more hours left on the clock before he could head back to the office, file his report, and head on home. While it was a boring task he had to remain vigilant for thieves, drunks, and potential mobs of kids of parental issues. While Oni Land had no real Onis, it certainly brought the spirit out of people.

Beasts clad in masks roamed the lands. Terrors, nightmares, filled with filth and loathing. The very air was stained, a sort of stenchless stench that couldn’t be removed. A mockery in a sense, but one that was amusing enough to laugh and be merry with. The goblins consorting here, pigs and animals in clothing wearing the skin of baboons, reveled and reveled in a ritualistic manner that would surely call down all sorts of trouble if allowed to continue. In that sense it was authentic in a way that only a mockery could bem, made by one with no comprehension. Here was an eternal paradise brimming with hopes and dreams, an amusement park where the nature of an Oni was mixed with man.

Kimono-clad, the face of an Oni was tied to this maiden. Merely a mask, and the cheap sort made of a flimsy and inexpensive plastic, it did little to give her the appearance of a beast. Those wine-red horns that poked out from her forehead, or was it the mask’s forehead? They gliscend in a way and that caught the eye and drew them away from the artificial skin she wore against her face. Here she was nothing more than a maiden, consorting with drink and food as all others were. The lavender embraced her, and within it the smokescreen that mixed together truth and falsehood, she observed from within. It was nothing more than a pale imitation of Oni nature, but the very attempt was enough to inspire mirth. A sort of laughing-pity.

Booze rolled off her lips, spilling down her chin and staining those silks she wore with its scent. The gourd that she had drunk from apparently had some flaw in its spout that ended with the drinker being seasoned with their own drink. Or perhaps that was by design? The aroma spread through the air, mixing together with the deceitful sweetness that immersed this land. A melting sort perfume that brought attention elsewhere, but it wasn’t uncommon here. Drinking was, after all, of an Oni’s nature. With veins and arteries full of wines and sugars, all lead to the heart. Even now the center was congested, as the hours descended deeper and deeper into the night.

An impact followed. A large man into a smaller woman, and wine would be spilled. Or the smaller woman into the larger man. So congested, determining the truth was difficult. Still, the cup tilted upon the man, and was allowed to drain its contents. He would be soaked in its scent just as she was, and the woman behind the mask of an oni would smile. The now useless drinking vessel would be discarded now that it’s purpose was served, dropped to the ground where it would shatter into shards of porcelain. Another stain graced him now, beyond just the remnants of an earlier meal it would now be of a meal to come.

“Ah, how disappointing…  You will get me another, won’t you? Come, have a drink with me. It’s too boring to drink alone, or to not drink at all.”

A sigh, her voice sweet as the wine she spilled, and the gaze of the woman would be set up on the shinobi. She was the sort where a man not already introduced to alcohol might become intoxicated through just her scent. Her fingers, purple with the remnants of what had been spilled, reached out for him now. Where she could hold of him, she would, insistent.

Despite the heightened senses of a ninja it was infinitely tougher to predict any sign of hostility given the magnitude of the crowd. Kids ran in terror, teenagers were horseplaying, and the adults moved quickly to avoid both crowds. Amid all of the chaos, Ibuki's path was one among dozens passing him each second. One easily forgettable until the incident occurred. The Oni was surprisingly dense given her stature as the impact was enough to force Sanzo to budge, though it goes without saying his body was not braced for any form of impact. Still, the confusion and lapse of judgement dulled his reaction, and before he knew it he was soaked in a mysterious liquid. The mystery wouldn't remain one for long as the fluid ran down his body and immediately began evaporating from his skin. The cooling sensation was power than any regular liquid, and in fact was one akin to a fortified alcohol. This was briefly followed by the powerful stringent odor of strong wine.

The rate at which all of this happened unfolded before the man could even turn around to face his adversary. He would turn with his arm raised up just a bit as the alcohol continued to soak his clothes. It doubled as a sign of body language as he fixed his eyes on the person responsible. A child? Very short in stature with a petite frame. Any mature features she had were covered by a cheap plastic mask the kimono combo. But despite what was used to hide her intention, Sanzo would practically see right through her. The woman's still frame and unapologetic vibe. It's like she was testing him. And it wasn't long before that theory was proven. A seemingly effortless drop of her contain caused it to crash on the floor resulting in fragmentation of the jug and an outwards splashing of its contents dredging Sanzo once again, this time the lower ends of his pants and feet through his sandals.

One could not help but feel furious as they were soaked not once, but twice, in a strong, sweet wine which had sullied his body and outfit. As most of the alcohol evaporated he was left with a sticky residue which was the results of the sugars left over from fermentation. Sanzo's arm would lower gingerly as the dampness of his clothes hugged his skin once more resulting in a gross discomfort shown on his face without hesitation.

"Another? I think you've had enough. Especially at your age." Much like the rest of Kishin there was a legal drinking age, though it was laxly enforced. It only became an issue when public intoxication was concerned, and this would be a case of exactly that. Both Sanzo and Ibuki would reach for each other at the same moment, the Oni taking ahold of his wrist or arm while his other arm grabbed the plastic mask she wore and attempted to pull it off to reveal her identity. The less she had to hide the greater her confidence would be reduced, at least that was the methodology he expected.

Laugher, bubbling with the same mirth that was in the air, followed shortly. Enough? There was no such thing as enough. To revel and spin until the world around you blurred, that was the path of an Oni. Even these baboons must understand that in their mimicry. Monkey see, monkey do. Yet, the man who was still without any taint of his own, merely with what he had been given, denied it still. To stay in Oniland without taking part in the paradise of an Oni was a particularly troubling thought. So she laughed, small and short. Their dance had been resolved now, each step completed. The Oni had a hold of the man, her arms wrapped around him. Delicate, strong. As a woman would hold a man, and the scent of hers would transfer to him. In his hands would be a mask now, her face pried off so easily.

“What a scary face~ You’ll have to be patient with me. To be so greedy so quickly… Taking from me now without yet giving anything of your own. And talking of the age of a woman you’ve just met! You’re quite the wild one, aren’t you? A troublemaker. I can see.”

Cheap plastic aside, the gleam of her eyes could now be seen. A demon wearing a girl’s form, narrowing her eyes while licking her lips seductively. The horns were seamless with her forehead, parting aside those bangs of hers. Clearly they were of flesh and bone, grown with care. Sharp and honest. With their heights together, he risked losing an eye should he lower down without care. Especially now, so close.

Her eyes were sharp, a lustrous purple, with red makeup painted right above them. Short? Perhaps she was. That was part of her charm, but a child was impossible to mistake with her, who had a gaze as soft and as sharp as her fangs. Now with her arms on him, those fangs would sink in. She squeezed at the flesh of his arms, measuring with a soft grip.

“And yet… When I talk about soft on the eyes, this is what I truly mean. It can’t be helped. The only drawback I would say is that your bones are a bit soft... Let’s sharpen our horns together. Yes? That’s what the night is made for.”

The true face of the woman would be revealed after the removal of the mask. What was exposed as a result of his actions caused his blood to run cold, dropping the cheap disguise on the floor to join the shattered drink glass. It was a monument of irony that the small framed woman wore a mask to mimic the ghastly features of a yokai. The horns standing from her head were as real as ever, her skin pale as the moon, and eyes an unnatural shade of purple. He stood in disbelief for a moment as the woman's gesture deftly moved in for a full body embrace, Sanzo flinching his head back out of habit as the horns moved closer to his unprotected face. To find a real life Oni in Oni Land was something even he couldn't wrap his head around. The Yokai were notoriously present in the Land of Lightning mountains, caves, and low lands. Most of them were feral and stayed away from civilization only being a problem to travelers without a sense of direction. Yet one existed right here before him in the heart of Kumogakure.

The behaviors the woman gave to him were typical of the Oni. Prone to mischievous and indulgent. Sanzo was unsure if this was a security risk and if he should report the present of an Oni lurking within the village walls. If there was one, there were bound to be more, right? Maybe they were lock cockroaches where if you started to see one, you were already bound to an infestation. Was this the same case? Were the Oni bold enough to come out of hiding? The woman spoke again in her usual cryptic tone. He wondered if she was always like this, or if it was a result of her intoxication. One thing was at least clear, and that was the need to get some literal breathing room as not only was he forced to breath the choking fumes of the liquor, but the woman's own body perfume started to overpower his senses in tandem.

Sanzo gently put his hands on either shoulder of the woman returning a firm grip of his own. He'd examine her eyes for glossiness, a common tell for intoxication. It was almost a redundant check at this point. The way she spoke, the liquor she dropped, and her desire to be clingy and feely were certainly major tells of being drunk. He'd give a polite, yet firm shove to try and break the woman's grasp and keep her at arm's length, the reach advantage he had being an advantage in his favor. "You're drunk. I can either take you home or to the station. The choice is yours."

He had no intent to reply to her presumed drunken rambling. My bones are soft? It was a comment that stuck with him, almost taking a slight offense to the statement. It was an odd sense of insecurity, given that Oni often devour humans. That was like being eaten by a predator only for them to comment 'you taste bad.' He couldn't exactly explain as to why it was offensive, but it was mildly bothersome. Or does she mean figuratively, like I'm... He would stop to not work himself a temper. There were no positive iterations of the statement. Part of him wanted to yank her horns to test the authenticity. Maybe this was just a very well-made costume? It wouldn't be too far fetched given their location at Oni Land. It was part of the reason why he wanted to set the Oni on her way and leave it at that. His day was coming close to an end. There was no reason to start an unnecessary investigation.

Without her face here, and yet the idle and thoughtless the flooded forth in their own ways remained unspoken and unthinking. Not a word was uttered beyond the every word, that white aura that was oft forgotten, and so the ghostly spectre of the girl passed on as yet another spectacle. Just one single moment among many. And so despite being surrounded, this little dance of theirs played on uninterrupted with the continued debauchery of the night as its backdrop. In this moment of living caricature, her boldness would only be stopped by the strong arms and soft bones of the man she embraced. It was with a firm grip now, one that made her murmur idle words of delight. So brazen now! To use that strong body against her and examine so closely as an appraiser would…

“So well-seasoned… Yet, staring at me so hard now... Leeet's see, shall I prove my taste as well? Here. Come take a bite of me. It’s only fair.”


Treasures sprung forth from her eyes, now founts of color hatching as eggs would. Yes, that’s right. The Oni, in all their brutishness, to use something so subtle? It was baffling for sure. But those who were of a unique presence of sight, grasping the same was only natural. So her eyes would reach out into his, taking a tight grasp on what was held within.

The Demon’s Eye. There was a heat that came from her face as they lit up, something only he would be able to feel, like the warmth of a bath against his pupils. Examining her eyes allowed her to strike like a viper, and now her fangs were sunk in. Inebriated as she seemed to be it would be nothing to what confusion would be stared into his head. An all encompassing fog of consuming spirits, vapored of her natural aroma mixed with that of the alcohol she consumed, or perhaps they were the same? That would be injected into his skull with a syringe. Smoke plumed out from her lips, delicate rising steam that wafted into the air, and for his special moment she would have to stand tall - reaching as tall as such a small Oni could! Until that steam of her breath would reverberate in his ears and his ears alone. Against his skin, against his bones, tasting him here was nothing more than lifting the fork to her mouth and letting it pass her lips, onto her tongue, and down her throat. Taking place in those moments, she seized time away from him before he could press her body away from his, and so her spell would set.

“Thank you kindly for calling out to someone like me, you know? Dear, … Ah? My nameless husband. Now now, no need to tremble so, I won't take your bones. Despite how I may look, I am a demon who serves. Now, won’t you have a taste?”


-1   Devil’s Eye Tier III
-15 Devil’s Eye, Confusion
-15 Devil’s Eye, Charm

His palms held firmly against the narrow shoulders of the small Oni with full intent to push the woman away. He'd gaze into her eyes to appraise the woman's inebriation, but as they made contact, he saw something deeper within her.

---

Sanzo found himself standing at the heart of Oni Land, a place he was familiar with when growing up. As a child, and much like many young teens, he would indulge in the sinful pleasures the place offered. Sugary foods, fried foods, alcohol, rides. It was truly a paradise for the night life. It was a place where anybody could let loose and be themselves. Unleash the beast, if you will. There would be no surprise that Sanzo would be a recurring customer to a place he was so fond of. Having enjoying his treat a few hours ago he was ready to see more what the park had to offer. And perhaps who would know, maybe the night would take him elsewhere.

In an embrace her held a woman that reeked of temptation. They were close, having met during their time at the park and seemingly connected. They had to have been close, right? They were so close they were practically sharing each other's bodies. She whispered something sweet into his ear. Nameless Husband? The thought caused his heart to beat against hers. He'd lean forward until his lips were against the neck of the Oni's and have a taste, just as she requested. He would caress his lips until he found the right spot, massaging the place with the kindest touch. Pulling his head back slowly he would see his handy work as the spot he had claimed was blushed red.

"Sanzo Tanaka is my name. Sorry to have waited so long." He said with a nervous chortle. Despite having just met he felt a genuine connection with the woman. I never thought I would feel love again. This is one dynamite gal... Everything about Ibuki was flawless. Her colors stood out stronger than any other woman at the park. She was full of warmth and light. Sans felt dependent on her company. He knew he couldn't let her get away without giving it his all. "Hey, look. I have some drinks at my place if you want to come over. Or we can grab some stuff at the store and go somewhere else. It's up to you, babe. I'm happy with either." As he would say, Sans threw an arm around Ibuki's waist and pulled her in close to his. He was in a state of true bliss, numb to all senses and cognitive thought. Was half his body soaked in liquor? Yes. Was he still on the clock? Yes. But none of it matter. It never did. Life was standing right before him, and he had her in his arms.

A good vessel truly did make the drink taste better. She was particular about her sakazuki… Red lacquer was the ideal upon which all others descended from. But then there was the pleasure of your lips against gourd tokkuri… Decisions, decisions. Presentation though, was half the taste. Eyes were as important for tasting as the lips, and lips as the tongue.

“Completely, completely… It’s a good word, isn’t it? Every last drop you have to squeeze out, down to the bottom until you can taste the glass as well... You don't need to hold back before me, you know? Any kind of greed you may have, from a demon like me, it just looks cute.”


Those lips against her neck… To taste and be tasted in return, that was important. Something he so generously allowed her to indulge in. Such a sweet boy. So sickeningly sweet. Now they shared something together, a wedded intoxication. And then, just now as they were so close she could notice. With a gentle inhale through her nose it came easily. His scent had a certain tightness to it, ever so taunt, but those kinks could be worked out with a bit of pressure. All knots were meant to be untied, after all. To return to their natural state. With an exhale, the aroma of wines stained the surrounding winds. Even if swept away, this moment would stain the ground, so that surely should she return her appetite would hunger for those brown eyes once more.

“Sanzo… Dear, there are plenty of names I could call you by, but I like ‘Husband’ the most. Even though you do have a name now you don’t mind, surely? ‘My Husband’... With those words, imposing upon you so becomes nothing more than an affirmation of our vows.”

A soft laugher followed. Such a perversion danced in her mind, on her neck, in all these stains that grew and grew. One after another. That he had marked her alone, tasting with leveled greed as she requested now brought them together in a covenant of the tongue. Even when this intoxication over him went to fade, as all things did in time, there was now a promise between the two that could not be broken. To taste meant to be tasted in return, and there was nothing that could compare to an Oni’s greed.

“Locations though… What a fickle desire. The drinking vessel is as important as the wine, truly. But… Yes, take me into your home. It would be a pleasant place to make filthy, within a man’s castle. Upheaval in the home has a certain meatiness to it that… Ah, I suppose we'll be able to taste it together in time, won't we?”

The dangers of inviting a demon into your home led to many terrors. Chaos, debauchery, enthrallment, and robbery to name a few. Many have suffered even ghastlier fates, namely death. It was a wise practice to always remain cautious about the Oni and keep your distance, or so that was what he was taught given his random teachings and worldly experience. But the indulging effects of the spells cast upon him rendered his sharp wit into a dull one. One where an Oni, such as Ibuki, would take anything they please without consequence. Even his life. The title 'Husband' was given to him without warning, something that brought the boy back in shock. Things were going all too smoothly for a woman to so eagerly seek his courtship. There were doubts stewing up in his mind, but those doubts were immediately quelled with lethargy and bliss as his motivations focused back on Ibuki.

And with his motivations set, he'd reply to her request with a grin. "Whatever you say." Having lost track of time or his initial duties he held the Oni close to his body letting his hand run down the side of her body before finding its resting place on the woman's hip, his palm taking form to appreciate her body's figure. The couple would leave Oni Land much like the others, appearing as a single massive herd before breaking apart and going their separate ways. Sans kept the Oni close like some sort of prized possession, as if they have been married for the past several years. It was a ridiculous thought, but one he could not shake nor question no matter how hard he tried.

Sanzo wouldn't change for anything in the whole world. He would make Ibuki happy. He will fulfil her needs. Frankly, Sanzo didn't think he could stop if he wanted to. But who would want to stop? When people love what you do. This much. He guided her back to him place, which was a fairly nice apartment complex. Nothing too fancy, but far from a troublesome part of town. Reaching into his front pocket with his free hand he inserted the key and with a twist unlocked the doorway into his home. The layout was pretty standard. A large living room to the right of the foyer and a kitchen to the left. Straight ahead was a small hallway with doors of the sides leading to a bathroom, a master bedroom, and a laundry room. At the far end of the hall was linen closest. It was modest, if simple.

Stepping past the doorway he guided the woman into his home where he would take his arm off her. "Get comfortable anywhere you'd like. I think you'll like the sake I have for you." He said, parting into the kitchen after shutting the door behind the two. There he'd relieve himself of any unnecessary equipment, namely the baldric, jacket, and belt, as well as slipping off his sandals. His goal was to find a bottle of rice wine gifted to him either two or three years ago, the date he could not quite remember, but recalls seeing it every few weeks or so. Opening the pantry and squatting down he'd scan his eyes through the produce he had and with short luck he found it. The bottle was a bit caked with dust, but still good nevertheless.

Not a big wine drinker himself he never knew the value of the bottle he had before him. It was a fortified and sweetened rice wine with no flavor, being rice wine in its purest form. The price was mid-to-upper tier, being only suitable to give away as a gift or for the well-off to enjoy frequently. He'd brush the bottle against his shirt to rub away any dustiness to save any form of embarrassment, but returned to the cupboard and grabbed two of the four identical choko he had which were, once again, pushed to the far back among standard drinking vessels her used for water and tea, mostly. It felt natural to ask if she wanted to warm the sake, but he had never done it before and would rather avoid potentially wasting the intoxicating effects of the wine on a blunder. Besides, part of him doubted she would care.

He'd take the cups and bottle to the living room couch setting them all on the coffee table. Pinching the cork he'd give a controlled amount of pull to unplug the container letting the age wine fill the air. Even from his seat he could smells the potency but alluring sweetness from the brew, overpowering the wet clothes he had which was soaked in the inferior liquor the Oni enjoyed previously. Tilting the bottle he'd gingerly fill each cup, one for each, while making small chatter in between. "I'm not too crazy for wine, but even this is irresistible. Please, drink as much as you'd like." He said, raising his glass with a grin before downing its contents. A smooth, sugary sweetness and a very dry, rice-grainy taste. The burn was subtle as it passed into his body, but he immediately felts the warming effects of the brew as its sat in his stomach. Wine never was his thing, but tonight the drink had a certain taste to it. The taste of night. Especially with the company he was keeping.

Chaos, debauchery, enthrallment, and robbery. The hearth, the central and most integral part of a man, was truly a vulnerable and precious thing. Even the most study and burly chest, vigorous and robust, was a deterrent in mere image alone and nothing more. Below that hair and flesh it only took the parting of a few ribs to slither inside. The gentle smoothing of her thumbprint against that animate warmth… there was something especially titillating about it. Don’t you think so too? To have something so delicate in your grasp and to feel how it is alive. Feeling its heft within your palm. Doing things like this once in a while isn’t that bad, she thought. And so as their scents would mingle and blur together so too would the time. Arranged together they would become a display, bouquetted together in image and pulse. From one to another. For now she would become his ‘woman’, as another affirmation of their unspoken vows. I am my beloved's and my beloved is mine. Feeling, as a man would want to do, came then as a natural conclusion. A body was a possession after all, and one that could easily be shared or stolen away.

While this was no märchen, there was a certain richness to a demon being invited so readily into one's own home. An Oni had no laws, this much was a law of its own, but being brought here in this mockery of legality had its charms for sure. Gliding past that doorway as he so readily parted those ribs she would take the part of an obedient wife. Here, away from the degeneracy of Oniland, the atmosphere that emanated away from her was emphasized in its aberrant viscosity. An abject and ever tenebrous stench that was now singularly and unsettling amidst the mundanity of these human dens, the seemingly innocent image of her form beneath the silk seemed now as if it would seep into the land and corrupt the very foundation of this settlement. The fatality of a curious woman radiated away in beams from each inch of exposed skin, garments ajar now to reveal that seductive faux-fragility.

Now with this tribute presented before her she would finally prepare to eat. A good vessel truly did make the drink taste better. It was a sticking point for her. Truthfully, that did matter more than the quality of the liquor itself. Even the finest wine taken from an unaesthetic glass had a certain filthiness to it, one which she would reject out of principal. But, of course, from the beginning she had a certain thing in mind. Women could often be particular in that way.

She watched his lips, his neck, not taking a glass yet for herself. The path of the liquor as it drained down into his core was something she could follow even from the exterior. The parting of his lips, the musculature of his esophagus in action. It had a pleasant way of moving as he swallowed, in a way that the trachea couldn’t compete with. With the aroma of that newly imbibed liquor now pooling up in his skull, Sanzo would find the desires of his partner brought out into a more physical form. Perhaps at first that tightness in his throat would be a sensation passed away a mere afterflavor, but he would have to be more than a fool to ignore the visibility of her palm against his throat. Up now upon that coffee table she would be carefully perched, her knees to the hardwood, and that pillar of flesh would be held with the same forceful intimacy of the grasping of a lover’s hand.

“Irresistible?”

The word was repeated in that questioning tone, as if asking for a definition. The tightness of his throat had never been enough to where he would be denied breath, but the discomfort of the moment wouldn’t last. Fingers would wander to a more desirable prize, brushing up to trace that jawline and the puffy flesh of his cheek. Her thumb would press against his lips, coated in the remnants of his saliva like a stamp resting in an inkbed. Parted aside and open, that jaw of his would be made agape with her guidance. Grasping upon it all now, the pad of her thumb would press down against his tongue. The edge of her nail pressed down against that sensitive muscle, a new flavor amidst what he had appreciated from the wine.

“Inviting me to drink my fill with such an honest voice really did make me happy, but I wonder. Is that something you can give? It takes a certain spunk to claim to be able to satisfy an Oni, especially a man with bones as soft as yours... But it’s not just about the bones, is it? Not just the welling of your soul, but the strength of your gaze too… So show me what kind of faces you can make, okay?”

The neck of that bottle to the side had been taken in her hand as she spoke, and now the lips would be pressed to his in a smooth and filthy kiss. The glug of the bottle came with the rush of its contents past his mouth, over her thumb, and down his throat once more. A perverse brew would form inside his mouth, of saliva, liquor, and sweat, and once that drinking vessel would overspill she too would drink of what had been created. One set of lips would be replaced with another, and the contents of the boy’s mouth would be stolen away. It was a messy, sticky affair, unabashed hunger allowing those vital fluids to spill between the both of them as tongues became acquainted.

The home Sans put together over the course of a couple years was cozy enough. At least, that's what he thought seeing how comfortable the Oni got. He kimono was loosened enough to show a little more skin than usual, but the fragility of the outfit naturally put suggestive thoughts in the mind of Sanzo, or any man for that matter. It was the charm of the fashion. At least Sanzo knew her intentions eliminating the needs to beat around the bush and try to appeal to her in every way possible. Not that Sans was the type of guy to do that, anyways. As he returned he found Ibuki is a peculiar spot resting upon the coffee table instead of the couch position besides him. Well...I did say anywhere. He withheld any comment that may trigger another 'soft bone' tangent. He'd set the drinking supplies besides her to compensate.

Chin up

The warming embrace of the alcohol ran down his throat. A brief moment was all it took for the Oni to strike, the warmth of the alcohol fading yet not its embrace. Pressure remained around his neck restricting hair flow just slightly. It was not painful nor debilitation, but merely bothersome. His head remained still allowing the Oni to take control— for now. Though as hot as the Oni liked to talk, she gave way to her softer side, releasing the pressure and moving her hand to cup the side of his face with her forgiving grasp. The was weak, mentally and physically, to do anything to resist. His hand raised to grab the Oni's wrist, but it offered no resistance to counter.

They held each other, though different from the last time they were this close. As the alcohol buzzed in his head there was a connection between her words and the liquor. They were smooth and sweet, her tongue pleasuring the airwaves as the wine did his taste. The charm the woman emitted was beginning to be truly appreciated by Sans now that they were secluded, away from the public eye. And it was in this nest of seclusion could the Oni truly appreciate Sans as well. His mouth would open to make way for a response only to be plugged immediately by the bottle of fortified wine used to serve both of them. His senses would be overloaded as the liquor raced into his body, each gulp proving to be more fatal for when the intoxication actually hit. He had his fill which was when his throat closed up once more, this time voluntarily as his body rejected any more liquor, followed by chortling as the remnants poured from his mouth and down his neck.

And it was after this forced feeding did the woman lunged, their lips locking as the bitter taste of the alcohol would be washed away by an acquainted taste of the Oni's. Slowly but steadily did the alcohol reach his blood stream, each pump of his elevated heart rate fed more and more of the intoxicating substance to his mind. His body grew heavy and warm as the first stage. The body of the Oni on his, no matter how light she was, was a welcomed presence. Their tongues danced in each other's mouths, taking turns massaging each other as their lips grazed, and it was in that moment would Ibuki feel a grin form across San's mouth.

The greedy hands of the boy were placed on Ibuki's exposed shoulders rubbing her smooth, pale skin with his thumbs in shallow, circular motions penetrating into her muscle to relieve any tension she may have as his digits did the same on the other side. The groping would only excite further as the hands moved down her frame staying close to her flesh, peeling the kimono down and down until she was topless, shamelessly exposed before him. The rest of her kimono remained as it was sparsely supported by the tied sash around her waist, though it served little good. Sanzo would take control as the mind numbing effects of the wine settled, firmly pushing the woman's body off his for a moment, allowing her pelvis to rest against his erect member, which was restrained by his garments. He did this just for a moment, so he could admire half of her natural beauty. The moonlight practically reflected off her skin, both Ibuki and the moon representing all that was good in the darkest hours of the day.

They were both in plain view for him to compare, though the visual aid was unneeded. Because Sanzo knew what he stumbled upon this night, and like the promise he made to himself, he did not let her get away. His hands would feel their way back up to feel their prize; a set of supple, shallow pads and even softer nipples were within his grasp. And he would too, make them his, as they were cupped within his palms. The sensitive, pink nips would receive even more attention while being clamped between his own thumbs and fingers. It was enough to cause her body to react positively to the change. Sanzo remained slouched on the couch with a toothsome grin, eyelids drooped halfway as a clear sign of intoxication. He'd raise his head from the pleasant, bare-chested view of the Oni to make eye contact, a courtesy that wouldn't remain long as the alcohol soaked in his stomach.

"Such talk and talk, so here is the deal: I will give you everything you need to be satisfied. But in return I get to finish. No matter how much you can't take. How's that for 'soft bones?' " He said with a finishing smirk, a single hand raised to her cheek to give a firm pinch and pull before letting go in order to follow with a playful, whimsical slap. "Let me show you what I mean." With no physical struggle he'd stand up, albeit wobbly given the encroaching state of his drunkenness. And in his strong arms he'd carry Ibuki from the living room and down the hall, pulling a towel from the end closet on the way to the bedroom.