Chapter 19 - The Debaucherous Old Monkey King

Akira was listening, with her eyes closed, to what sounded like the gross mumblings of some perverted, crazy old geezer on the subway trains he used to ride, before he became rich:

"Huhuhu...good measurements…"

A wrinkly pair of palms roughly squeezed her.

"Wide in hips, large in chest..."

The same palms then glided across her leg, from knee to thigh.

"Mmm...! Skin is smooth, like banana skin."

Where was she? Her nose provided a strong answer: Inside a shoddy hut that reeked of rich earth and fresh feces, mixed with the foul emissions exuded by a pile of rotting banana skins in the corner. 

As far as she could tell, through a lingering dreary, drug-induced haze, she'd been dragged here by the apes to provide "amusements" to their king, seated on a throne before her: the cromiest of magnums in existence, called [Level D] [King Sugary]: A withered, miserly old specimen of a macaque with long, white wisps of beard fur and a filthy, matted grey coat; whose eyes, though well-concealed beneath the groves of his overgrown eyebrows, she could feel were unwaveringly upon her, taking in all the visual splendor of her magnificent form.

"What're you gawking at?!" Akira snapped, timidly trying to conceal herself from his probing stare.

The old ape seemed to startle at her raised voice—leaning back sharply, in his so-called throne: a haphazardly crafted, low effort DIY project made up of twisted twigs, mud-stuck sticks, and stripped pieces of bark.

"Sorry," the stupid oaf croaked, regaining himself. "Look...very nice, this evening."

Akira felt significantly airier; more bared than before. Because much like how the royal seating arrangement of Sugary, the lord of the Macaques, could hardly be called a throne, so too could Akira's new wardrobe only be loosely described as "clothing:"

Starting with a thong, deeply wedged between her enormous Squell buttocks, made of a thin hide-leather material held in place by corded dual straps, wrapped so tightly around her perfectly plump hips that they dug into the tender, soft flesh, to produce a slight bulging effect along their course. In addition, to what could hardly pass for a top: designed around a pair of intimidatingly long, curved macaque fangs, glued to the center of two thumb-sized pieces of cloth which served to just barely conceal her. Again, only barely being held in place by cords squeezing into the obscene fat of her enormously large breasts.

It was called the [Oo-Aa-Oo-Aa Outfit]. And whereas, normally, such a blessed work of textile engineering would be worthy of a celebration, the whole aspect of being enslaved by a [Dirty Old Monkey] somewhat spoiled it. 

"You be wife now!" the surly and impatient ape sternly demanded. "Or else, me eat!'

Akira squinted. "Huh?" What was he saying? Akira couldn't properly tell. But it sure sounded like an order for her to be his Ms. [Dirty Old Monkey], under threat of cannibalism! 

"We married now!" He patted his lap. "You, come sit—must be tired after long day."

"Married?" Akira scoffed, facing him with a hand propped on her hip. "Sorry, but I don't recall there being a ceremony. So, unless you can show me some legally signed documents—"

"Sit," the ape spat, his bushy brows furrowed with impatience. "Or me kill you, and eat you."

Akira gave a nervous chuckle. "R-right."

It was nearly sundown, her supple Squell body damp with sweat as she complied. Checking her inventory, it was revealed that she'd been emptied of all her items save for the [Big Business Tie], still draped around her neck. 

"Hey!" Akira angrily shouted, looking up at the impartial face of her new simian armchair. "What'd you do with all my shit?!"

Unfortunately, he seemed to rather prefer communicating through his wrinkly, dirty monkey hands, taking full rein over her exposed flesh: Brushing. Squeezing. Etching his gnarly claws into the moist, marbled, womanly fat of her thighs, torso, and barely contained breasts. As all the while, Akira could only wince at the callous treatment; continuing to freely offer up her bountiful Squell assets for his banal, passive amusement, not daring to resist—not so long as Ai's whereabouts were unknown.

She craned her neck to gaze out a faraway window: upon a ramshackle village, consisting of a ring of shoddy wooden huts surrounding a circle of dirt; teeming with [Hungry Macaque]. Making her think of just how difficult it would be to escape—let alone find Ai, and all their stolen items…

Until she was suddenly, rudely yanked back into Sugary's clutches; pulled into his lap, to be imprisoned between his hairy arms, and forced to endure his wrinkly lips being pressed against hers.

Akira could only shut her eyes at the rotten stench he exuded into her mouth, his tongue like a zombified strip of charred bacon—dry as old bones, crispy as decaying skin—making her head spin with just its overwhelming fetid taste. 

Then, while deep in the midst of his torments, the [Lord Sugary] suddenly ended his ongoing barrage of sickening, sour kisses; softly growling to her:

"Tonight...woman, and me...become one!"

Akira's eyes widened—feeling the shock of her life.

Desperate, she swung her fist at Sugary's chest, only for him to swiftly intercept it with a raise of his grizzled forearm—in an unexpected display of quick perception and reflexes, from one so aged. As then his misty, pupiless red eyes narrowed, while staring into hers; his lips gradually curling into a gleeful grimace as he watched her face contort, in pain, from his claws being dug deeply into her meaty thigh.

Akira was crying, when he proceeded to forcibly kiss her again. But with an unbroken, steely gaze filled with defiance.

"Bastard…!" she spat into his mouth.

Enraged, Sugary pulled away sharply, baring his fangs, as he then threatened: "Play so rough again, and me EAT your little sister for breakfast!" Prompting Akira to loose a defeated sigh, letting her arms drop uselessly to her sides as she fell limp against his chest.

'Though he looked old, Lord Sugary was evidently quite strong. Akira had noticed he was shown as being [Level D], but what was that supposed to mean?

In any case, any further resistance on her part would be futile. For now.

Sometimes a CEO's only option is to wait.

So then, Akira squeezed her eyelids shut once again—the only form of escape left available to her—allowing Sugary to have his filthy way with every part of her.

Meanwhile, in the forests surrounding the Macaque Village…

Vash took a bite out of a [Tuna Sandwich] he'd had stashed in his inventory, enduring past the ruined flavor. Because, as he knew, storing food in one's inventory allowed it to be preserved, at the expense of it losing all flavor.

While eating, he watched contentedly as Kanna cleaved through wave after wave of [Hungry Macaque], descending upon her from the treetops and popping out of nearby bushes. Remaining uninvolved, as per an agreement he'd made with Kanna before they'd set out together—as it were, enjoying the show of watching a cute, hotheaded girl working up a sweat.

Nonetheless, even from this cozy position he found himself wanting more; quietly lamenting the fact that the design of Kanna's current [Heavy Armor] set left much to the imagination, as opposed to the average Squell armor. A style approach which, unfortunately, didn't quite 'do it' for him, nearly as much…

Vash wasn't tagging along merely to ogle, however, as once Kanna had cleared out all the Macaque from this part of the forest, she then proceeded toward him, wordlessly, with her arms spread out.

By this point, it was like clockwork: her turning her back to him, standing still as he diligently set about tending to her wounds with [Bandages]. Since, although the Heavy Armor she wore served as capable protection to much of her body, there were still some exposed parts of skin with bloody scratch-marks that required mending.

A few moments later, Vash's work was done. Marked by him chuckling as he handed Kanna a [Small Potion], then joking, "it looks like the roles between us have been reversed!"

"What?" Kanna stared daggers at him.

Vash squirmed. "G-get it? 'Cuz, you see, usually it's the girl who does all the heal—"

"Shut up," Kanna said. "I'm not the least bit interested in you, so quit wasting your breath." After which she lowered her gaze, appearing downcast as she held a quivering palm against her chest. "My heart...already yearns for another."

Vash exhaled loudly. 'Oh, well...I guess I'll chalk this up as yet another failure.'

He felt a deep frustration welling up inside of him. 

'Whatever! This girl is way too serious and gloomy all the time, anyway...' Vash hugged himself tightly, swinging back and forth like a mental patient without a straight jacket. 'I need a girl that's always looking to have some fun: anytime, anyplace!'

When he returned to his senses, he realized Kanna was already walking off without him.

"Once we make it to the Macaque Village"—she said without halting, her gaze sharpening as she swept back her braids with one hand—"I will proceed alone."

Vash sighed. "What's got you so riled up about these monkeys, to begin with?"

"Did they steal your banana one time, or something?"

She shook her head. "Once, I was held captive by the Macaques," she proceeded to explain, pushing past the low-hanging branches and bramble bushes.

"Held...captive?" Vash swerved around a tangling root. "For what purposes?"

"Sugary takes women as his concubines, but only a chosen few are kept as his mates." She paused, biting her lip. "I was his chosen, once." She scoffed, shaking her head while looking away. "Until he'd apparently had his fill of me, and I was chased out of the forest."

Vash's eyebrows furrowed. "What happens to the others? Those that aren't chosen..."

"I don't know," she answered coldly. "All I can say, for certain, is that when I was finally given my freedom, after so much time had passed—"

She glanced back at Vash, with a severe look.

"I was completely alone."

Vash shivered. "Akira-san...." he mumbled, his growing fears reflected onto his starkly pale face. 'Sounds like your lives depend on whether this Sugary guy is a lolicon, huh?'