I have a hard time recollecting the memories of my childhood, and I would think that the majority of people would feel the same. Most of it seems to be a fuzzy haze, save for one instance that has haunted me for the past fourteen years.
I was four at the time, traveling to Okinawa with my mother to visit an old college friend of hers. While I cannot recall her name, I do remember that she lived in a somewhat rural area near a forest. As my mother was in the process of catching up, I was allowed to explore the wooded landscape to my heart’s content, doing what children do best and searching for little critters under bark and stone.
I distinctly remember coming upon the point where a river cut through the forest and finding in its path a number of large stones that disrupted the flow of water. Atop their weather-beaten surface sat a darkish green frog with black stripes, calling to me as a siren would sailors. In my childish wisdom, I thought it would be safe to step into the raging torrent of the river to pursue this slimy creature.
Most obviously, it was not.
A little boy would have drowned that day were it not for one Miss Hachishaku; a tall, elegant lady of refined proportions that plucked me from the waters with ease. Perhaps “tall” does not do Miss Hachishaku justice. Miss Hachishaku, or rather Hachi as she would have me call her, was easily eight feet tall. Wearing a long white dress and summer hat, she held me in her arms like a mother would her newborn until the shock had left me.
Miss Hachi was very kind to me. Allowing me to sit atop her shoulders, we spent a number of hours together exploring the forest. Her hands were large, far larger than my mother's, easily wrapping around my waist when she would lift me to the higher points of the tree so that I could explore their leafy interiors.
While I can remember almost every detail of our short-lived adventure, I find it rather difficult to recall Miss Hachi’s face, maybe because it was mostly hidden under the brim of her hat or maybe because she had such beautiful long black hair that was so distracting to the eye. It’s rather sad, enough to make me feel at least a bit guilty, to forget the face of my first friend. However, despite my inability to remember her face, I do recall that Miss Hachi was quite beautiful, almost unnaturally so. With her pale, flawless skin, one might have believed her to have been a doll come to life.
It was only as the sun began to set that Miss Hachi and I parted ways. She stood at the outskirts of the forest, waving to me as I returned to the house of my mother’s friend. That incident in of itself was completely normal, save for when I turned my back on her. Having loved the time we spent together, I felt that Miss Hachi deserved at least a second complementary wave. Strangely enough though, Miss Hachi was no longer there when I looked back the second time. The only reason this stuck to me was because it was strange to think that a woman of such grandiose proportions could simply vanish in the time it took for me to look over my shoulder.
When I told my mother about Miss Hachi, she simply looked to her friend as if to confirm the existence of this giantess woman. According to her, the nearest neighbor, of nearly five kilometers away, was supposed to be an elderly man who rarely left his home, and only to go shopping on the weekends. Being as young as I was, my mother and her friend eventually came to the conclusion that I had simply created an imaginary friend with which to play.
But Miss Hachishaku is real.
And she has followed me for my entire life.
I am eighteen now. As my grandfather often says, I’m a strapping young lad only just entering the prime of my life. My grades are above average, I don’t do drugs, and my extracurriculars, including soccer and wrestling, have kept me in great shape. As far as my doctors are concerned, I am a completely normal, healthy young adult male.
If anyone were to ask my parents, the only abnormality in my exceptionally ordinary life would be my attachment to my imaginary friend, Miss Hachi, who they would say I claimed was real until the beginning of secondary school. While this would have been quite the lifespan for an imaginary friend, the truth of the matter was that I had simply given up on proving her existence. Miss Hachi, no matter how often I called to her, would never show herself in front of others. In fact, the only time I ever saw her would be in the fleeting reflections of mirrors and windows or perhaps the barest outline of her form from around a distant corner. In all of those instances, the brim of Miss Hachi’s hat would always be tipped forward, just barely covering her face. Yet, even with her face hidden, I was always under the impression that Miss Hachi seemed a tad bit sad. Perhaps it was the way she timidly peeked around corners or because of how she would loosely clasp her hands in front of her dress, her fingers twiddled nervously with each other, but something about her reminded me of a rather lonely soul.
I know I’m not schizophrenic, and I know that I’m not seeing things. It is with crushing certainty that I can confirm that Miss Hachi is real. I know, because for the first time in fourteen years, she’s standing right in front of me.
It has been approximately one week since my parents helped me move into my apartment. A short distance from my college campus, my room is nestled in the corner of the seventh floor, fairly close to the top of the building. It’s a typical one-person studio apartment of which I believed I was the sole resident. Until now.
At exactly twelve o’clock midnight, I finish watching my show and turn off the TV. In the black reflection of the screen, I see none other than Miss Hachi herself, apparently standing behind me. As per usual, I turn around to look, fully expecting her visage to vanish as it had always done.
Except she didn’t.
I blink. I look away. I look back. Miss Hachi is still there, perfectly inanimate, her hands clasped lightly in front of her, perhaps waiting for me to acknowledge her presence.
I would not necessarily consider myself a smart man, but even I know that Miss Hachi is far from normal, far from human. Yet, it is not fear or shock that stills my tongue, but rather the sight of Miss Hachi herself. As I said before, she is far too beautiful, too perfect for her existence to make sense in this world.
That and the fact that Miss Hachi has not aged a day in the fourteen years since we first met.
“Miss Hachi?” I ask tentatively. The boy inside needs to know, to confirm that this specter in front of him is indeed who he thinks it is.
She does not answer.
And why would she? What’s the point? Deep down, we both know the answer. She smiles at me instead, the luscious curve of her lips laced with an insatiable hunger. Even in my shock, I understand that she is dangerous. My instincts scream in terror, their animalistic desire to keep me alive filling my mind with thoughts of flight. However, I cannot move. My eyes, my body, they are bewitched by the woman in front of me.
She picks me up the same way she did fourteen years ago, holding me by the waist as she gently cradles me to her breasts like a babe. My memories of long-ago snap into place, and I immediately feel at ease in her arms. The terror in my mind succumbs to her gentle caresses as she leans over me, her silky black hair falling in a curtain around my face.
I will admit, it is a bit embarrassing, perhaps even emasculating to be held aloft by this spectral beauty. Yet, something in me craves her touch.
She perches my head upon her bosom, pulling me in as she steadily draws closer. It takes every working fiber in my body to remember to keep breathing as her lips descend and lock with mine. As she cradles me in her lap, one hand snakes up to support my back as the other holds my head, pulling me ever closer towards her as her tongue slithers down my throat, corrupting me with her bittersweet taste of blood and summer peaches.
Her essence pervades my soul, filling me with emotions that aren’t my own. Hers is the flavor of loneliness, an eon of self-secluded isolation as she watches the world pass by. My heart begins to ache, longing for someone to fill this agonizing void. The more we kiss, the more these emotions seem to swell, threatening to drive me into despair.
Still, there is something else, something more. In her loneliness is a spark of passion, of hope for a new future.
It calms me, and I close my eyes, savoring her flavor as a heated passion begins to wash through my body. Our tongues wrestle in a game of cat and mouse, hers pulling and tugging at mine as I lap at her abundant nectar. As we kiss, I can feel my shaft growing, rising to fight against the restricting confines of my pants as my desires begin to blossom.
My hands move on their own, slipping through the opening of Hachi’s dress to grope and tease her immense mammaries. As if to reward me, I feel the smooth folds of her dress begin to fall away as our mouths continue to explore each other. Kneading and playing with her breasts elicits a series of soft feminine moans that vibrates between the tips of our tongues and drives Hachi to thrust ever deeper in my throat until I’m practically fighting off her advances.
It’s only when I pull on her teats that I earn a moment of quick respite as Hachi moans sensually, arching her back forward and releasing her snakelike tongue from my mouth. As she shifts, her melon-sized breasts are pushed into my face, smothering me despite my efforts to hold them at bay.
Her shifting forces me onto the carpeted floor of the apartment, and I find myself pinned as Hachi leans over me on all fours, her nude form outlined by the dimming light above. The taste of her saliva is still fresh on my tongue, and I can feel her spectral corruption spreading throughout my body, sapping away at my free will. My desires have become her desires, and she desires I worship her breasts.
My body moves to her will, my digits sinking into her tit flesh as I begin to massage her immense mounds. Unlike her tongue, Hachi’s body is cool to the touch, reinforcing my belief of her inhuman nature. Yet, even as the thought is born, it is pushed to the back of my mind, replaced with the need to fulfill my, no our, festering desires.
Once my hands have guided her breasts to my mouth, I begin to kiss and lick at the endearing paunch of her cleavage, burying my face in its cushiony softness. A burning desire to lay claim to Hachi wells up within me, and my hands steadily guide a puffy, pink nipple into my mouth so that I may sink my teeth into the flesh around her areola. My lips latch on like a leech, tickling and suckling at her teats as Hachi’s breathing turns to husky, sensual moans. Her hand touches my cheek, stroking it gently before falling to the neck of my shirt. In one quick motion, she rips the insulting fabric off of me, laying my chest bare as she begins to feel along my body.
My otherworldly lover lowers herself onto my body, her weighty posterior resting upon my thighs as her waist lowers itself to my midsection. I can feel the curves of her abdomen through the cloth of my pants, and my member screams for release beneath her as it is sandwiched between our bodies.
She takes my face in her hands, kissing me once more as my hands sink into the soft, silkiness of her hair. After a heated moment, her hands begin to gravitate downward, circling the exposed area of my throat before trailing along the length of my arms. She takes my hands in hers, pulling them aside and leaning into me even more than before. Her luscious lips hone in, wrapping with my own before beginning the arduous journey down my body.
She starts at my neck, her serpent-like tongue licking and marking my body before her mouth falls to the triangle of my neck. She leaves a line of warm, wet kisses along my chest, dragging our hands together as she makes her way towards my lower region. Her hands release mine only long enough for her to pull down the waist of my pants to unveil my virgin dick to the air. Her tongue slithers around the crown, teasing and lubing my member with her saliva.
I can sense the hunger in Hachi’s eyes as her lips descend on my dick, effortlessly taking me to the hilt as her head begins to slowly bob up and down, the muscles in her mouth sucking and massaging along my shaft. Every time she reaches my base, her tongue sneaks out, cupping and teasing my impassioned testes.
My first load comes without warming, and I grab the back of Hachi’s head, pulling her towards me as my dick attempts to bury itself as far down her throat as possible. Through the ecstasy of my orgasm, I can feel her pick me up into the air, her hands grabbing around my firm buttocks as she attempts to force as much of me as she can inside of her. It seems to last an eternity, or perhaps just a minute, as I ejaculate load after load of fertile spunk into her needy cavity. It is a preposterous, ungodly amount, but I can’t seem to stop as Hachi’s lush lips continue to hold me captive, her tongue relentlessly teasing and extracting my jism.
When it finally ends, I can feel the strength that has left my body. I feel weak, feeble, like an aged, dying prude. Hachi lowers my body to her bosom, once again cradling my head as she holds me in her lap. Strangely enough, her body seems to have warmed up, and I can feel my strength beginning to return the longer I stay in her embrace.
A momentary flare of panic erupts inside of me when I feel her pulling back to rest upon her haunches. The desire to stay with her, feel her, be with her, have poisoned my mind, and my hands reach out needily to hold onto her.
Hachi smiles at me lovingly, and I can feel her arms wrap around me. Her legs unfold, sprawling out to either side as her arms guide me down to her sultry depths, stopping me just before her blooming womanhood. She releases me and leans back, using her arms to prop herself up as she waits for me to respond.
She has given me a choice. I know in my heart, in the deepest recess of my soul, if I don’t stop now, I will pass the point of no return. Should I taste the forbidden fruit of Hachishaku, I will never see my friends or family again. I will never know the kiss of death. And I will never be allowed through the pearly gates of heaven.
I do not care.
Hachi. Miss Hachi. Miss Hachishaku.
She is the only one I want in my head. The only person I want by my side for all of eternity.
My hands caress her smooth, perfect legs as I tentatively flick my tongue over the folds of her sex. Her taste is as sweet as nectar, and her scent carries the petals of falling cherry blossoms.
Hachi moans softly as the tip of my tongue penetrates her crevice. We are one of mind and desire, and as the fluids of her lust touch my lips, I know exactly what it is she wants. My invasive oral organ begins to circle the pillowy lips of her vulva, round and round, occasionally digging deeper into her folds. With each rotation, the liquid essence of her passions grow, and I can feel my body becoming more and more invigorated with each ingestion of her boon.
My hands become greedy, firmly grasping at her expansive derriere as I begin to force my way deeper into her depths. Hachi’s breathing has become irregular, and I feel the muscles of her quim suddenly tighten as she reaches her first orgasm. A rush of liquid nectar pours into my mouth, filling me with the taste of my supernatural lover.
My body is changing. I can feel in my muscles an unholy strength, and my member is once again at full mast, standing taller than ever before thanks to the effects of her love.
Still, I continue to press my advances with my tongue. I will not let Hachi rest, give time for her orgasm to abate. My fingers dig fervently into the softness of her tush, pulling her closer to me with my newfound strength. My corrupted tongue runs wild inside of her, laying claim to every inch of her blossoming orifice.
She is Mine.
Mine. Mine. Mine.
Hachi’s moans only drive me to possess her harder as I turn my attack on her clit. She wants it. WE want it. My tongue runs along the ceiling of her love tunnel as I begin to suckle upon the bud of her clit. The triggering of her sensitive love button is enough for her to orgasm again, moaning in bliss as she wraps her legs around my head, pulling me deeper into her folds. It is an immense pressure, one that would easily crush the skull of a normal human, but for me, it only serves as a sign to continue pleasing my lover. Indeed, the warmth of her legs around my head is merely an assurance as I continue to tease and nibble at her convulsing sex.
The passion burning in my dick has reached a new level, unable to be ignored any longer. I must breed this eight-foot-tall woman.
Even with my newfound strength, it’s a struggle to extricate myself from her hold, but eventually, I am able to guide those long luscious legs across my shoulders. They are like alabaster pillars, smooth and silky to the touch, providing me with ample support as I line my shaft against her lower lips. The heat of her mons pulse in anticipation as I begin to grind my tool against her sex.
As I move my hips, my hands run up and down along her legs, pulling them in for a chaste kiss every now and again. Hachi’s pleading moans reach my ears, and it becomes nearly impossible to resist her mounting needs. Before giving in to desire, I pull one of her legs to my mouth, licking and kissing along its length before sinking my teeth into her supple flesh, leaving another mark for the road.
My cock begins to throb with need as I finally allow myself to slip into the steamy folds of her pussy. The first sensation upon the pointed crown of my dick is the pleasurable warmth of her pale, lust-dripping lips. Hachi’s drawn-out moans rise in pitch as I begin to slide in inch after inch, the muscles of her quim slowly opening and adjusting to my length until I’ve finally hilted myself inside of her. To my surprise, a trickle of blood begins to pool from where we connect, and it comes to my realization that I have taken Hachi’s maidenhood.
Her legs fall away as her arms reach up to encircle me, pulling me down to snuggle me between her breasts, even as my entire length is still nestled within her. We hold each other, skin to skin, as the walls of her vagina begin to loosen, accepting my phallic breeder.
I start slow, barely easing my hips forward and back as I mold Hachi’s inner sanctum to my shape. My fingers dig into the impressive mounds of her tits, kneading and playing with them as we continue to make love. Our souls are connected, and I can feel her pleasure and mine building with every thrust. Her body quivers under mine, tingling with pleasure as the walls of her pussy begin to massage my shaft.
We hold back as much as we can, testing our limits as I begin to pick up the pace. Before long, I am pulling out, keeping just the tip of my crown inside, before slamming back into Hachi’s waiting embrace. With every thrust, I can feel a change coming upon my phallic tool. Too late, I realize, it is not I who is molding Hachi to my form, but she who is molding me. My dick grows in girth and size until it is able to snugly fit the confines of her inner walls, and my cock-head is able to kiss the entrance to her womb.
I can feel the fertile seed churning in my balls, waiting to be released. However, it’s only with the completion of my transformation that we allow ourselves to give in to the ecstasy.
Hachi’s orgasm causes her to clamp down upon my dick, forcing my own pleasure to release as stream after stream of thick jism shoots into her waiting womb. It is far stronger than the first time, built upon several minutes' worth of nonstop lovemaking. I can feel it filling inside her, stretching her womb as she takes it all in. The tip of my phallic tool plugs the entrance, cementing our love inside as we hold onto each other, riding our orgasms out together.
I can feel my strength slipping once again, and as the pleasure of my ecstasy begins to die, so does my consciousness. Before I fade into the darkness, I take a look at Hachi and notice that her irises have taken on a darker, almost entirely black tone. I can see the pain hidden in the dark abyss of her eyes, and I am reminded of her loneliness.
“Will you stay with me?” Hachishaku asks.
Of course I will.
