Ch 2.62 My Quiet Beach Vacation Is Actually a Government Population Initiative, as I Suspected
My Quiet Beach Vacation
Is Actually a Government Population Initiative,
as I Suspected
Story Starts
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Chapter 2.62 -
Obviously, All Scientific Progress and Governmental Reproductive Sponsors Are Entirely Above Board
Disclaimer: Everyone here is an adult!
'What three?'
The words came out of my mouth before my brain had fully rebooted. My voice sounded like it had been dragged across sandpaper and then left out in the humidity to rust. Which, given everything that had just happened, was probably generous.
Fujiwara's pink head popped up from wherever she'd been crouching with her little flag, eyes sparkling like she'd just won the lottery and the prize was watching me have a public existential crisis.
Then I heard a squirt—something like those automatic misting machines—and in the opposite corner, one of those automatic aroma dispensers whirred to life.
I didn't dare direct my mind towards what this room probably smelled like. No! I order you to stand down.
A human's sense of smell is one of our stronger senses. There's a lot of crossover with things like taste, memory, sight. When your olfactory receptors become bombarded, your mind often tones it down to avoid too much stimulation.
Unfortunately, my brain was being a kid told that something was hot. And like a kid, it needed to test it out first before crying in pain at the heat.
The mix of heavy musk, sweat, saliva, and that bleach smell that comes with personally keeping your libido in check through nightly protein discharge—that was my excuse and I'm sitting with it!
'The aroma dispenser is working overtime. Lavender and vanilla versus the unmistakable scent of government-mandated fornication. It's losing. Badly.'
"Yes, three more to go, Hikigaya-kun!" Fujiwara chirped, pumping the flag like she was leading a cheer squad for state-mandated reproduction. "Ganbatte!"
'Three more what? Three more women? Three more rounds? Three more opportunities for my sister to award herself points whilst I serve as a flesh-based prize in some bureaucratic breeding lottery?'
Kaguya, still flushed and breathing a little too carefully beside me on the mattress, reached over and gently pushed Fujiwara's flag down without looking at her.
"It's nothing you need to worry about right now, Hikigaya-kun." Her voice was smooth, the Shinomiya heiress mask sliding back into place even though she was naked, marked, and leaking the evidence of what we'd just done. "The programme has its own... internal metrics. You should focus on the task in front of you."
'Internal metrics. She says that like we're discussing quarterly reports rather than how many times I need to ejaculate to satisfy some government checkbox. The Shinomiya Group really does prepare their heirs for every situation.'
Yukinoshita, on my other side, made a small sound that might have been agreement or might have been her trying to remember how lungs worked. She didn't meet my eyes.
Interesting.
'They weren't going to tell me. Of course they weren't. Whatever "three" meant—whether it was three more partners, three more rounds, three more absurd quotas Komachi had cooked up on her whiteboard of doom—it was apparently classified information. Above my security clearance. Which, in this room, apparently maxed out at "government breeding stud with a camera pointed at his dick."'
'Fine. If they wanted to play mysterious government programme, I could play along. I was already naked, chemically hard, and apparently contractually obligated to keep going until some invisible counter hit some invisible number. What was one more secret on the pile?'
I opened my mouth to push—because that's what I do when people tell me not to worry about something—but Yukinoshita moved first.
She was still flushed from earlier. Cheeks pink, neck marked where I'd apparently been less than gentle, the welt on her forehead from our disastrous first attempt still visible. She looked... determined. And exhausted. The kind of exhausted that comes from someone who spends more time with books than with anything resembling physical exertion.
Not that I was one to talk. My own cardio routine was mostly walking to the konbini for MAX Coffee and regretting my life choices.
'Yukinoshita Yukino. Top of her class. Student council president. Could probably dismantle someone's self-esteem with three sentences and a raised eyebrow. Currently climbing onto me like I'm exercise equipment she's determined to conquer through sheer force of will.'
'This won't end well for her stamina. I've seen her winded after climbing stairs.'
But she climbed over me anyway.
Her hands pressed against my chest, cool fingers spreading over skin that was still overheated. She straddled my hips, and I felt the wet heat of her brush against the underside of my cock—still hard, still annoyingly ready thanks to whatever they'd laced that injection with. She reached down, wrapped her fingers around me—smaller hand, precise grip, the same hands that had once thrown a mute button at a screen like she was trying to kill it—and guided the head to her entrance.
The sound when she sank down was obscene. Wet. Slick. A low, filthy noise that the corner camera definitely caught in high definition.
She was still loose from before, still slick with a mix of her own arousal and the cum I'd pumped into her earlier. It made the slide easier than it should have been. She took me all the way down in one slow, shaky motion until her hips met mine and I was buried to the hilt inside her again.
'Fuck.'
Her eyes fluttered shut. A soft, involuntary sound escaped her throat—half moan, half something closer to pain. Not bad pain. Overwhelmed pain. The kind that came from a body that wasn't built for this kind of sustained activity.
She tried to ride me.
At first it was tentative. Small rolls of her hips, testing. Her thighs trembled almost immediately. I could feel the muscles in them quivering against my sides, the way her knees kept trying to lock but couldn't quite manage it.
She wasn't athletic. She wasn't built like some of the others—Miura or Totsuka, who were quite physically fit due to their tennis activities.
'Tennis.'
My thoughts wandered to that day they'd met Totsuka and the subsequent tennis match with Miura. That was a good representation of Yukino's stamina. And that day was also a good representation of myself, given I'd had to cheat to win that bet.
'Though comparing tennis to this seems like comparing a leisurely jog to running a marathon whilst carrying someone. Actually, I am carrying someone. Yukino. Who is currently trying to bounce on me like she's training for an Olympic event she has no business competing in.'
'Her stamina has further deteriorated since high school. Back then she managed several sets before tiring out. Now she's—'
My internal monologue was interrupted as Yukinoshita rose up a bit, then sank down on me with determined purpose.
'Right. Focus. The woman currently impaling herself on you probably deserves your attention more than tennis memories.'
Yukinoshita was all sharp mind and sharper tongue and a body that had spent years prioritising perfect posture over anything that might build stamina.
She tried anyway.
Her hands braced on my chest. She lifted herself—slow, deliberate—and sank back down. The wet sound was louder this time. My cock dragged against her walls, and she clenched around me like her body was trying to keep me there even as her legs protested. Up again. Down. The rhythm was uneven, faltering. Her breath came in short, sharp gasps. Sweat beaded on her collarbone and slid down between her small, perfect breasts.
'She's beautiful like this. Flushed and determined and completely out of her depth. Yukinoshita Yukino, who has never failed at anything she set her mind to, is currently failing at riding me. And she looks furious about it.'
'That's... surprisingly endearing. In a pathetic sort of way. Which, given my expertise in pathetic, I feel qualified to judge.'
I kept my hands on her hips. Not guiding, just... there. Steadying. The camera in the corner whirred. Click. Another angle. Hayasaka was probably getting a beautiful shot of Yukinoshita's face as she tried and failed to maintain control.
Her legs gave out on the fourth or fifth bounce, her face flushed crimson.
I moved my hands underneath her thighs, supporting her weight as I met her downward motion with a thrust upward.
The sound she made was worth every aching muscle in my body.
I looked up at her—really looked. Her eyes were half-lidded, lips parted, cheeks burning with a flush that had spread down her neck and across her chest. Her dark hair clung to her damp skin. Every time I thrust up, her whole body shook, her small breasts bouncing with the motion, her mouth falling open in a moan she couldn't quite suppress.
'Yukinoshita Yukino. Ice Queen of Sobu High. Currently making sounds that would get an eroge rated for adults only. And she's making them because of me.'
'The househusband plan definitely didn't include this scenario. Though I suppose technically, keeping one's wife satisfied could be considered a domestic duty...'
'No. Stop. Do not try to rationalise government-mandated breeding as part of your life plan. That way lies madness.'
One moment she was trying to lift herself again, thighs shaking violently. The next, her arms buckled and she collapsed forward onto my chest with a soft, frustrated sound that was almost a sob.
Her forehead pressed against my shoulder. Her hair—dark, silky, smelling faintly of whatever expensive shampoo the programme provided—fell across my face. She was breathing hard, chest heaving against mine, and I could feel her pussy still fluttering around me, involuntary little clenches like her body hadn't gotten the memo that her legs had quit.
"I'm sorry," she whispered against my skin. "I—I can't—my legs—"
She sounded genuinely upset about it. Like failing to ride me to completion was a personal failing rather than a predictable outcome of asking someone whose idea of exercise was walking to the library to suddenly perform athletic sex acts on government-supplied pharmaceuticals.
'You're apologising. You're apologising for not being able to maintain a physically demanding position whilst drugged and overstimulated. This is the most Yukinoshita thing you've ever done.'
I wrapped my arms around her. Held her there for a moment. Let her catch her breath.
"Do you want me to take over?"
The question came out rougher than I intended. Probably because I was still buried inside her, still achingly hard, and the drugs were making it very difficult to focus on anything besides the wet heat clenching around me.
A gasped moan escaped her as I gave an experimental thrust upward.
She nodded against my chest. Silent permission.
Just before I was going to roll us, she rose up and locked her lips with mine.
The kiss was different from before. Hungrier. Her hands cupped my face, fingers pressing into my cheeks, holding me in place as her tongue slipped past my lips. She tasted like salt and something sweeter underneath. Her body pressed flush against mine, every soft curve moulding against me.
'She's kissing me. Properly kissing me. Not a peck, not a quick brush of lips, but the kind of kiss that makes you forget there are cameras and pink-haired cheerleaders and government breeding quotas and—'
A sharp pinch on my side.
'Ow.'
She was still kissing me. Still holding my face. But her fingers had found that spot just above my hip and twisted.
The message was clear: Keep moving, you idiot.
I pumped into her. She moaned into my mouth, the sound vibrating through me.
I continued. Each thrust punctuated by her gasps, her moans echoing in my head as our kissing continued. Her tongue tangled with mine. Her fingers dug into my jaw. She was trembling—from pleasure or exhaustion or both—but she refused to break the kiss.
I locked eyes with Kaguya over Yukinoshita's shoulder.
She was hovering beside us, uncertain, her earlier confidence replaced by something that looked almost like... jealousy? Envy? The expression didn't quite fit her face. Shinomiya Kaguya always knew what to do. Always had a plan. Always—
'She's watching her partner kiss me senseless and she doesn't know where she fits anymore. The programme paired them together, but this moment is just Yukinoshita and me. And Kaguya is on the outside looking in.'
'...I understand that feeling. More than I'd like to admit.'
After a few more moments, Yukinoshita's lips finally left mine. She slumped back against my chest, her body too wrought with pleasure to move. Her breath came in ragged gasps. Her walls fluttered around me, aftershocks of something that hadn't quite crested yet.
I changed positions. Rolled us.
It was easier than it should have been. She was light. Or I was stronger than I had any right to be right now. Probably the latter. The drugs were doing their job—keeping blood flow exactly where the programme wanted it, overriding the usual post-orgasm refractory period, turning me into something closer to a machine than a person.
I got her onto her stomach, then pulled her hips up until she was on her knees, chest down against the mattress, ass presented to me like an offering I hadn't asked for but was apparently required to accept.
From behind.
The position changed everything.
She was tighter like this, or maybe it just felt that way because of the angle. I lined up and pushed in, and the sound she made was different—deeper, throatier, punched out of her like she hadn't expected it to feel that intense.
I gripped her hips, thumbs digging into the soft flesh above her ass, and started to move.
Slow at first. Testing. Then harder when she didn't protest.
Movement at my side. Kaguya had found her place.
She pressed herself against my back, her breasts soft against my shoulder blades, her breath hot on my neck. Her hands slid around my torso. Found my chest. Her fingers traced upward until they found my nipples.
She pinched.
"Nngh—!"
'What the—'
Her lips found my neck. Sucked. Her tongue traced a line up to my ear whilst her fingers continued their assault on my nipples, rolling and tweaking with surprising skill.
'When did she learn to—why does she know how to—this is information I did not need about Shinomiya Group heiresses—'
The dual stimulation was overwhelming. Yukinoshita's pussy clenching around me from the front. Kaguya's mouth and hands working me from behind. My hips snapped forward almost involuntarily, driving deeper into Yukinoshita than I'd intended.
She cried out. A broken, beautiful sound.
The wet slap of skin on skin filled the small space. Her pussy made obscene, squelching sounds every time I bottomed out—a mix of her arousal and the cum from earlier making everything slick and filthy. I could see it when I pulled back, the way her lips clung to my cock, the creamy white evidence of what we'd already done coating me.
The camera caught it. Of course it did. Hayasaka had moved for a better angle. Fujiwara was probably taking notes with her flag.
Kaguya bit down on the junction of my neck and shoulder. Not hard enough to break skin, but hard enough to make me gasp. Her fingers twisted my nipples in time with my thrusts.
'This is too much. This is way too much. My brain is not designed to process this many sensations at once. I'm going to—'
Yukinoshita came first.
Her whole body locked up with a broken cry that she tried and failed to muffle into the mattress. Her walls clamped down around me like a vice—rhythmic, pulsing, milking. Her thighs shook. Her back arched. A gush of wetness flooded around my cock, hot and slick, and I had to grit my teeth to keep from following her over the edge right then.
The drugs helped. Or maybe it was sheer bloody-mindedness. Either way, I kept moving through it—slow, deep thrusts that dragged against the spasming walls and made her whimper with every stroke.
Kaguya's teeth scraped against my ear. "Don't stop," she whispered. "She can take more."
'She can take more. That's easy for you to say. You're not the one watching Yukinoshita Yukino fall apart on your cock whilst her programme partner plays with your nipples like they're game controller buttons.'
She came again less than a minute later.
This one was harder. Her arms gave out completely. She went flat against the mattress, hips still held up by my hands, and sobbed my name into the sheets like it was being torn out of her.
"Hachiman—Hachiman—ah—!"
Her pussy convulsed again, tighter, almost painful around me. Another flood of slick. Her body was trying to push me out and pull me deeper at the same time. I held her there, buried to the hilt, grinding in small circles whilst she shook apart.
Kaguya's hand left my nipple. Slid down my stomach. Found where Yukinoshita and I were joined.
Her fingers traced the stretched rim of Yukinoshita's entrance. Gathered the wetness there. Brought it back up to circle my nipple, leaving a slick, obscene trail.
'That's—that's not—why would you—'
The third orgasm took Yukinoshita by surprise.
She was still coming down from the second when I changed the angle—tilted her hips just so, hit that spot inside her that made her whole spine go rigid.
She came with a silent scream this time. Mouth open, no sound escaping except a high, broken whine. Her eyes rolled back. Her fingers clawed at the sheets. Her pussy clamped down so hard I saw stars.
Then—
She went limp.
Completely.
One second she was shaking through it. The next her body just... folded. Her hips sagged in my grip. Her head turned to the side, eyes half-lidded, lips parted.
Unconscious. Passed out cold in the middle of her third consecutive orgasm. Her legs finally giving up the fight they'd been losing since she climbed on top of me.
I froze.
Pulled out carefully. Checked her pulse—steady, if fast. Breathing—shallow but even. She was out, but she was okay. Just... done. Her body had hit its limit and tapped out without asking permission.
'Great. I'd fucked Yukinoshita Yukino unconscious. Add that to the list of things I never thought I'd have on my CV. Right under "government breeding participant" and "owner of a pink silicone replica apparently used for training purposes."'
'Komachi is definitely going to award herself points for this. "Brother makes childhood friend pass out from pleasure: 500 Komachi Points!" I can already see the notification.'
The counter in the corner of the room ticked over.
712.
I was still hard. Painfully so. The drugs didn't care that one of my partners had tapped out. The programme didn't care. The cameras definitely didn't care.
'712 thrusts. Two women unconscious or recovering. And I'm still ready to go. This pharmaceutical compound should be illegal. It probably is illegal. Everything about this situation should be illegal.'
'...Why am I still hard? This isn't normal. This isn't healthy. This is the kind of sustained erection they warn you about in those medication commercials. "If your erection lasts longer than four hours, consult your doctor." Well, my doctor is probably Konuki, and she's the one who injected me with this stuff in the first place.'
Kaguya was already moving.
She pulled away from my back, circled around to face me. Her eyes dropped to my cock—still standing at attention, glistening with Yukinoshita's release—and something flickered across her face.
Determination. Hunger. The look of a Shinomiya who had identified a problem and fully intended to solve it.
"Yukinoshita-san needs rest," she said, her voice steady despite the flush still colouring her cheeks. "I'll continue in her place."
'Of course you will. Because that's what programme partners do, apparently. Tag-team the government breeding stud whilst maintaining perfect corporate etiquette.'
She knelt in front of me. Reached out. Wrapped her fingers around my shaft with the same precise grip she probably used for calligraphy brushes and financial reports.
"Hayasaka."
"Yes, Kaguya-sama?"
"Water. And a cloth for Yukinoshita-san."
"Understood."
'She's giving orders. Naked, covered in sweat and other fluids, and she's delegating tasks like she's running a board meeting. The Shinomiya Group really does breed them differently.'
'...Phrasing. Unfortunate phrasing.'
Kaguya's hand began to move. Slow, deliberate strokes. Her thumb traced the sensitive underside, gathered the moisture there, spread it along my length.
"Three more," she murmured, almost to herself. "We can manage three more—but we have to wake Yukinoshita before the second."
'There's that number again. Three. Three what? Three orgasms? Three rounds? Three different women? Is there a quota I'm not aware of? A minimum requirement to satisfy before this particular trial is complete?'
I opened my mouth to ask, but Kaguya leaned forward and took me between her lips, and suddenly the question didn't seem very important anymore.
'...Right. Three more. Whatever that means.'
'The househusband plan definitely didn't prepare me for this.'
"Let me know when you are close, then we'll start waking up Yukinoshita."
She looked like someone who had everything handled.
Then she added, "Prepare the salts!"
Fujiwara's rallying cheer didn't help.
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End
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