The Predators' Subway — Futanari, Subway, Reversal, Mutual Penetration
The subway at rush hour. Dain's eyes moved, sweeping the packed car — the eyes of a hunter scouting tonight's game.
Then she saw her. A long, slender neck. An androgynous face without a trace of makeup, its features almost too sharply defined. The figure stood gripping a handrail, and looked, for all the world, like a woman.
And — she was already watching Dain. First.
Their eyes met. She didn't look away. The corner of her mouth curved up, just barely. This was someone who had come knowing — knowing Dain's game, knowing the rumors that drifted through the subway. Someone who had come to see for herself.
Then, slowly, she turned her gaze forward again. As if to say she would wait.
It was an invitation.
That's the one.
The corner of Dain's mouth lifted.
She approached slowly. Barely two steps in, the woman turned her head, and their eyes met. Dain didn't stop. She kept coming, pressing close against her back.
The woman turned her gaze forward. Not averting it — simply letting her know she'd known all along.
Dain's hand moved toward her waist, tracing slowly up her side, slipping beneath her skirt.
She was soaked.
She'd been reacting since before Dain even approached. Something warm and slick slid between her fingers.
Her fingers began to move inside, slowly. Up and down, along the inner walls — a sticky glide that pressed deeper with every stroke. Each movement drew a wet, obscene squelch from her fingertips.
The woman's shoulders sank, just a little. Like acceptance.
"Good."
Low. Almost a murmur to herself.
She had spoken first.
Dain pushed her fingers deeper and curled them, pressing up against the front wall, kneading hard, again and again. She could feel the slick heat clenching around her from within. More warmth poured out, filling the gaps between her fingers and spilling over.
Jian let go of the handrail and caught Dain's wrist.
More. That was what it meant.
Her fingers found a rhythm, deep inside, the wet, sticky sounds buried beneath the rumble of the train.
Jian tilted her head back a little.
"Hah— more—"
Dain went faster. Deeper. The quicker the rhythm grew, the shorter and sharper the sounds broke from her throat. Heat trickled down the inside of her thigh, soaking the back of Dain's hand.
Short. Deep.
"Haah—"
Jian stiffened, the walls clinging and contracting as if refusing to let go.
Then Dain's hand drifted higher — and stopped.
What her fingertips found was different. Hard.
She explored one, then the other. Below — drenched through. Above — rigid and rising. Both of them belonged to this woman.
The heat below her belly flared hotter still.
Then Jian slowly turned around.
She looked at Dain.
It was that look — the one Dain always sent her prey. The look of someone who already knew everything, already had everything, and was savoring the wait at her leisure. A predator's eyes.
Dain's back met the wall.
Jian had pushed her. Gently — but unmistakably.
It was the first time. Being the one pushed.
Jian's hand slipped under Dain's skirt, fingers gliding inside with a soft, wet sound. They found exactly the right spot, burrowing in with a sticky, circling pressure.
"Nnnh—"
Dain bit her lip.
Jian watched that reaction — and the corner of her mouth lifted.
"Now you're almost cute."
A low, unhurried voice.
Cute. That word—
sent an instant flare of heat through her lower belly.
"I suppose I'll have to tame you."
Dain could have backed off. She didn't.
The fingers moved faster, wet and sticky, falling into rhythm.
Dain held out. She kept the eye contact, refusing to lose — but her body got there first, her hips starting to move on their own.
"Hah—"
A sound escaped her. She tried to smother it and failed.
A wave broke loose below her belly; what spilled from inside soaked Jian's hand, warm and unrelenting.
Jian drew her hand out slowly, and the moment her fingers slipped free came a low, wet sound of clinging and release.
Jian didn't stop there.
She murmured, low, beside Dain's ear.
"This is fun."
Dain could have run. Could have shoved her away. Instead, she braced a hand against the wall. Of her own will.
That was her answer.
Jian pressed flush against her from behind. And then — deep. She buried herself in a single thrust.
"Hngh—!"
Dain's breath was knocked clean out of her.
Different.
Fingers and this were different. The resistance felt as it forced its way in. The taut strain of muscle stretched to its limit. The sheer physical edge of being pried open and made room for — and then, the feeling of being filled to the brim.
Jian began to move, slow and deliberate.
Every drag in and out carried a low, viscous friction along with the rhythm. Deeper. Harder. As the pace quickened, the sounds grew louder, breaking shorter and wetter.
Dain stiffened.
"Aaahn— hahn—"
Hard.
Heat poured out from deep within, streaming down the inside of her thighs. A shudder wracked her whole body.
"Aah—"
Jian let out a low sound of her own, feeling the heat brim and spill around her inside.
Silence.
Dain caught her breath, her mind racing.
Jian had both. And moments ago, she had used the one that gives to undo Dain completely.
But Jian could give even while receiving. If Dain could do the same — what would it feel like, the two of them taking and giving at once?
Dain spoke, low.
"I've got a drug on me. If I take it, I can become exactly what you are. Thirty minutes."
Jian looked at Dain.
The look in her eyes changed — the look of someone who has found something interesting.
The train ground to a stop at the next station, and the two of them got off together without a word.
Two predators walking, for the first time, with a flutter of anticipation in their step.
The multipurpose restroom inside the station.
Dain locked the door, fished out the vial, and swallowed it down without hesitation.
A moment later, her gaze dropped.
She laughed, low.
Jian watched it happen. It was a first — someone else in the same state as her. Her eyes narrowed.
This was a competition. Whoever broke first, lost.
Jian lay down on the floor first, on her side; Dain stretched out the opposite way, the two of them facing each other's feet.
Dain hooked one leg over Jian's waist, and Jian slid her leg beneath Dain's thigh.
They met, each against the other.
Dain moved first, rolling her hips forward, slowly, into Jian.
The moment she pushed in, she was gripped tight — heat and slickness enveloping her as if it would never let go. She was wet enough that the entry was smooth, but the clenching pressure never slackened.
"Aah—"
Jian's breath shortened. Being entered felt foreign. Foreign — and good.
Then Jian moved. Slowly, into Dain.
The instant she pressed in, Dain felt herself filled to the hilt, and her breath broke.
"Nnnh— so this is what it's like—"
The feeling of stuffing Jian full and the feeling of Jian filling her arrived at the same time. Doubled. A first — for both of them.
"This is—"
Dain began, low. The sentence never found its end.
"I know."
Jian answered, low and unhurried.
They began to move, slowly.
Every time Dain rolled her hips, Jian clenched tight around her. Every time Jian pushed in, Dain's depths were stuffed full.
The two sensations didn't take turns — they landed together. Giving as she received, receiving as she gave. That overlap hit far harder than she had imagined.
"Hahn— aaahn— ahn—"
Dain bit her lip, trying to hold on. Everything she felt from Jian rode atop everything she gave, amplifying it beyond bearing, and Jian's hips were swinging wide now too.
With every thrust in and out, low, drenched sounds of friction filled the cramped space. What leaked from the two of them mingled, thickening the slick, sticky noise.
"Not bad. Hah—"
Jian said it briefly. Her breathing had quickened, but her face gave nothing away.
Dain pushed deeper. Jian took the pressure and answered in kind, just as deep.
The harder she gave, the harder she received — the more she fought to win, the closer she felt to coming apart.
"Nnnh— you're— going first."
Jian said it low.
"You're holding out. Hnn— mm—"
Dain fired back through her teeth.
"Aah... hah—"
A sound spilled from Jian — short and low. The instant it reached Dain's ears, she felt herself clench down harder from within.
Sounds were leaking out of Dain now, too.
"Hahh— nnghh— it's too good—"
At that, Jian's rhythm quickened. Each one's sounds fed the other's fire: every cry made the walls tighten harder, which drove the other's hips faster in turn. A loop with no bottom.
The tempo climbed. Wet friction snapped shorter and sharper, faster and faster, until the inside of both their thighs was soaked hot through.
Dain seized Jian's waist, refusing to lose.
"No, you. Ngh—"
Jian said it low, her breath fracturing.
"Aahn— ahn— not yet."
Dain gritted her teeth and slammed back.
Then it happened — in a single instant.
What had been buried deep inside Jian was gone.
The thirty minutes were up.
Dain felt it. Everything below had changed completely; what had filled Jian to the brim only moments ago had simply ceased to exist.
"Ahh, the drug's wearing—"
It slipped out low, almost to herself, surprise bleeding through her voice.
She said nothing more. Her hands moved instead — faster, desperate to send the other over the edge first.
"Aah—"
The sound slipped from Jian's lips. And then Jian caught on. Their eyes met.
The corner of Jian's mouth curled up.
"Looks like yours just ended."
"Not yet—"
Before the word was out, Jian pressed flush against her from behind and thrust, hard.
Deep. In a single stroke.
"Aaahn—!"
Dain's breath jammed in her throat.
Where the sensation of giving had been wiped away entirely, only receiving remained, flooding in to fill the void. The drop was too cruel.
Jian's hips began to move in long, hard strokes.
Sticky, drenched sounds came without pause at every plunge in and out, and each deep thrust carried a dull, heavy pressure against her innermost depths.
"Aah, aaahh— haahn—"
Faster. Deeper. Dain's body was driven forward; the hand braced against the floor slipped.
A wave spread through her from the inside out, as though it would never end. Her hand trembled.
Her whole body seized rigid, her breath stopped — one instant of perfect stillness.
"Haaaahn—!"
Then the convulsions began.
Deep in her belly, muscle contracted in rippling waves; her inner walls spasmed. Heat burst out all at once, streaming down the inside of her thighs — and it didn't stop.
Her whole body shook.
"Hah— aaah—"
Jian let out a low sound of her own. Low and deep. The sound of satisfaction.
Dain pushed herself up slowly and caught her breath.
She knew she had lost.
But she didn't begrudge it. She'd already won plenty — she was the one who had broken Jian first.
Jian looked at Dain, and Dain met her gaze.
Dain rose first and straightened her clothes, then glanced back before opening the door.
"What's your name?"
"Jian."
Dain laughed, low.
Her steps were light.
Today, this subway had carried two predators.
She had always believed she could bring every man in the world to ruin.
That belief hadn't been wrong.
Only—
Jian wasn't a man.