The Sweetest Burden
"Hnnngh♥! Mmmph, mmmph♥♥♥ Uuungh♥♥♥"
The siblings kept their eyes closed, their lips fused together. Inside the seal of their mouths, their tongues coiled and tangled, twisting around each other in a rhythmic, desperate dance. Hansel let out a breathy, pleasurable moan, but it was stifled by Gretel’s lips; the sound couldn't escape, instead swirling and echoing in the humid, shared space between their mouths. They stood locked in that kiss, eyes shut tight. Hansel’s hands were bound behind his back, secured firmly with the discarded clothing of the two women in the room, making resistance impossible. Not that he had any intention of resisting to begin with.
"Mmmph... mmmgh♥♥♥♥"
A sound leaked out only when he reached his limit—a voice steeped in layers of accumulated pleasure. Though the volume was low, it was all the more arousing to those who heard it. A simple kiss between siblings could never produce such a sound. Beyond the sticky, intimate kiss that expressed their genuine love, they were drawing pleasure from Hansel’s body through other means.
The mechanical doll, having discovered her own heart through the medium of carnal desire, knelt before him, serving Hansel’s cock with her breasts and mouth. *Slurp♥, shhh-lurp♥♥, shhh-lurp♥♥.* Pinochia pressed her breasts firmly against Hansel, trapping his cock in the crevice and holding it at a near-vertical angle. Like a mountaineer emerging from a snowdrift, his cock peeked out from the snowy-white flesh of her breasts, and she licked it repeatedly with her tongue. She traced spirals, wrapped her tongue halfway around the shaft, and let a froth of saliva drip near the urethral opening, spreading it evenly across the sensitive skin with the flat of her tongue. Even while working her mouth and tongue, she never forgot to move her breasts, squeezing them together with her hands.
Trapped in the valley of her shifting, twisting breasts, Hansel’s cock felt as though it were being crushed by a slow-moving glacier. Yet, instead of the pain of suffocation or freezing, he felt only a suffocating softness and a comforting, cool sensation. It was like lying in a street piled high with fresh, powdery snow—a cold, yet incredibly pleasant sensation that washed over him, making it impossible to feel anything resembling pain.
"Ugh... mmm..."
Furthermore, Pinochia, growing accustomed to the rhythmic stimulation of her breasts, began to use her nipples—which possessed a texture distinct from the skin of her breasts—more aggressively. Sensing the moans Hansel let out and the tremors of his cock and testicles, she used her own nipples, now hardened just like his cock, to scrape and rub against every sensitive spot on his glans. She focused particularly on the narrow gap between the thickest part of the glans and the shaft—a spot so sensitive that even the slightest touch was infinitely more stimulating than ordinary skin contact. The sensation was incomparable, and as Pinochia’s saliva mixed with the pre-cum leaking from Hansel’s cock, the lubrication made the friction even smoother, driving the pleasure home with terrifying speed.
That wasn't all. Gretel’s hands weren't idle, either. One hand pinched Hansel’s nipple, pressing and circling it gently. The other hand moved toward Hansel’s backside, sliding a single middle finger in and out of his tight entrance.
"Haa! Nghhh...♥♥"
Gretel pulled her lips away for a moment to check Hansel’s expression. Judging by his moans and his face, the sensation in his rear still carried more pain than pleasure. There was definitely a spark of delight hidden within the feeling of being stirred from within, but the ratio of pain was still too high.
"Bear with it just a little longer. I’ll make it feel good soon, Hansel."
"Haa-gh!"
Hansel tried to answer, but the foreign sensation pushing deeper into his rear forced a moan from his throat instead. She was still clumsy at stimulating him from behind.
"Should I push deeper? Or go slower?"
Gretel pondered how she could use her fingers to strip away the pain and leave only the pleasure. Even as she worried, she pushed her finger deeper into Hansel’s rectum. Seeing his reaction up close, she could tell he was suffering. She wanted to transmute all of that agony into pure pleasure through the tips of her fingers.
"Just hold on. I’ll make it feel good, I promise."
"Hnnngh!!!"
Though they had been each other’s first experience in touching, licking, and joining their genitals, unfortunately, the one who had first touched and taken his rear was not each other. They had no complaints about taking each other’s virginity, but the fact that his first experience from behind had been at the hands of the tentacles created by Tinkerbell—who had been corrupted by Circe—was deeply unpleasant. And so, Gretel sought to overwrite that memory, invading his rear slowly and delicately with her finger.
She stirred, scraped gently with her fingernail, and rubbed the soft, protruding joints of her finger against his inner walls, repeating the process as she pushed deeper and deeper.
"Haaaaa-aaang!"
Hansel’s head snapped back, his tongue lolling out of his mouth.
"Hmm? Is it that good?"
Pinochia, who had been scraping his glans with her nipples and licking his urethral opening, felt the tremors of his testicles and cock—and the way those vibrations shook her own breasts—as his reaction intensified. Though she was a machine built in an era that didn't match her appearance or personality, it wasn't difficult for her to realize this was the signal of an imminent climax.
"No, this part is even better. I think I know how to do it now."
Gretel’s finger, which had been advancing through the tight, gripping interior of Hansel’s rear, finally touched a soft, yielding spot. It was his prostate. As she pressed against it gently, Hansel’s waist began to arch. It was clear: Hansel wasn't climaxing from Pinochia’s breast-service or her tongue, but from the stimulation of his prostate by Gretel’s finger.
"Come on, don't hold back. Just let it all out!"
"Relax your muscles and just let it go."
Their tones were different, but both women were urging him to finish. One was sweet and teasing; the other was cool and composed. Though the emotions behind their voices differed, the fact remained the same: it was the temptation of women urging a man to release. Hansel, teased by the breasts, mouths, and fingers of two women, could no longer hold back. No, he didn't want to hold back anymore.
He had wanted to hold out as long as possible to release more of that fresh, scorching semen from the depths of his testicles, but this was his limit. He might have endured Pinochia’s cold breasts and mouth a while longer, but once Gretel’s finger dug into his rear and began to tease his prostate, he couldn't stop.
"Ah, ugh! Aaaaaaaah!!!!!"
The sensation of climax, erupting from deep within his rear, shook his waist and painted his mind pure white.
*Fwuuut! Byururururut! Byuuuut!*
The intangible white of pleasure covered his mind and vision in a blank haze, while the tangible white erupting from his cock covered the breasts and faces of the two women. His cock, which had been standing at a near-vertical angle while wrapped in Pinochia’s breasts, rose even higher just before he ejaculated, reaching toward his own abdomen before spraying across Gretel’s chest and face. Because he had fired his seed at such a steep angle, the semen that would have normally splattered only on Pinochia’s breasts and mouth soared higher, aiming for the ceiling before falling back down to land in droplets on Gretel’s hair.
The two women, having milked Hansel dry, looked at each other to compare who had been covered in more of his seed.
"I won."
"Indeed, you seem to have more on you."
In truth, it was difficult to objectively judge how much had landed on themselves, but Gretel declared her victory, and Pinochia accepted it. Pinochia had only been interested in the act of milking him; she had no interest in who got more, whereas Gretel was the only one concerned with the tally. To Pinochia, it didn't matter if she was covered in more semen or more urine. Whether she understood Pinochia’s indifference or not, Gretel looked at her with a satisfied smile—as if that were the only natural answer—before turning her gaze to Hansel, who was still trembling faintly.
"Haa... haa... ugh..."
Perhaps because he had climaxed while being penetrated like a woman, Hansel lay limp, his body shivering in the lingering aftershocks, much like a woman’s long-lasting climax.
"This is seriously addictive. I’ll have to do this again next time."
Planning to fill his rear with her fingers so thoroughly that he wouldn't even be able to dream of Tinkerbell’s tentacles, Gretel grabbed Hansel’s cheeks, pulled him toward her, and kissed him.