Chapter 10: THATWARD HO! THATWARD HO: Baka the Bakeneko chapter 10 by JollyJoe

It was morning.

JJ sat at the edge of his large bed. Cigarette butt between his lips. Unlit. There was a matchbox in his hands.

Pale skin, dark eyes. Bruises on his back, spread across his body. Arms, legs, his fucking ribcage. Hurt to breathe. Pain. Sign of life. He wasn't dead. He wasn't sure he cared.

Not that he was eager to die, and he sure wasn't eager to be used as a ghost’s dildo against his will for all eternity. But beyond that….JJ wasn't sure.

A low purr rumbled behind him. Satisfied. Massive arms wrapped around his torso. They pulled him back to a warm, pillowy chest.

“Master still tired,” Baka murmured. Her rough tongue dragged slowly up the side of his neck. “Master lay back down.”

She fell back, bringing the brujo with her. Baka was a bed unto herself. Soft. Malleable flesh. Her breasts, the perfect pillows. Her fluffy white tails with flames at their tips, blankets. Heavy blankets. Baka was heavy, far heavier than the bed should allow. 

But allow, it did. And JJ knew how. The bed was a part of the house. The house was a part of her, it adjusted to her new size appropriately. That connection would not sever. 

He sighed softly. Pain. Despite how gentle she was, there was pain.

“Baka.”

“Shhhh.” She nuzzled his mohawk, licked his scalp. “Baka says shh. Master still tired. Master sleep.”

“No, Baka. There's something I need to tell you.”

“Tomorrow.”

“No, Baka, now. There won’t be a tomorrow.”

The purring stopped.

Silence. Heavy silence. Heavier than her.

A hand pinched around his shoulder. Thumb on his spine and fingers on his belly. The tails tightened over them. Flames shortened. Ears flattened.

“Master makes joke. Bad joke. Baka not laugh.”

JJ tried to sit up. Her grip didn't let him. “No joke, gata. I’m leaving. Today. I told you that night. I’m only staying until Bettie could purr as good as you. And, well, now she can.”

Baka’s body stiffened beneath him. The soft, yielding warmth turned firm. Hot. Her massive thighs squeezed together, trapping his legs between them. One tail yanked his hips back hard against her furry mound. Grinding. Slow. Deliberate.

“Bettie doesn’t purr,” she hissed, dual voices layered with rising anger. “Bettie is car. Baka is cat. Cars don’t purr. Baka purrs.” She rolled her hips against his. “Baka sit on Bettie until car breaks. One sit.”

The lights in the room clicked on. They were red. The room was red. Angry.

“Baka….” JJ warned.

“Master stays,” she purred again, half silk half steel. Her hand slid down his chest, long nails scratching skin. “Baka good wife. Baka make master feel good. Master feel good now. Baka smells it. Baka always smells it. Master stays.”

The nekomata’s body rumbled like an engine. She sat up with the brujo. Her twin tails fell off him, their fiery tips blazed.

The room pulsed. JJ could hear its heart beat.

Her massive body pinned JJ’s stomach against the mattress. Her heavy breasts crushed his bruised ribcage. 

“Baka, you knew this was coming. I never intended to stay with you.”

“Master stays. Finger promised.”

“Oof! Aye. Sé delicada, gata. Finger did what now?”

Baka flipped JJ over like a limp doll and looked him in the eyes. Two voices spoke with one mouth. One a soft, gentle whine. Worried and needy. The other was low and dangerous. “Finger promised. Master stays. Baka good wife. Baka keeps master. Forever.”

“Baka.” He warned again. But it was no use. There was nothing he could do but make empty threats. As much as he growled, the brujo was all bark. It was what made her the master of the relationship.

Her possessive tongue grated up his body. Again. And again. Baka nuzzled a cheek to his, circling her head on her neck while her cheek remained in place. Her purrs rumbled his bones. 

JJ’s joints ached. His wrist. His knee. He did nothing as she picked him up and hugged him tightly. Tender bruises. Ribs. Hurt. Didn't feel good. 

The side of his face was touching one of her…. admittedly impressive breasts. 

Was he actually okay with this? The brujo sighed. JJ supposed he did feel enough pity for the pathetic creature to allow her this goodbye.

An arm squeezed out of her crushing grip. He grunted in pain and raised a hand to her tit. But not to try and push her away. Instead, JJ groped the nekomata.

Fingers sank in the soft flesh of her tit. It was like warm dough, and he didn't have any flour. Baka shuddered, the tremors of her dual purr shook his battered ribs. One voice moaned sweetly, the other growled in hunger for something sweeter.

Her ears perked up. Curious. Cautious. “Master... wants Baka?” Baka whispered. Her twin tails, tipped with that spectral, flicked at against the bulge in his black denim. It grew slow and steady. He felt the flames warm his crotch and inner thighs uncomfortably, as if he were standing too close to a camp fire for just a second too long. 

JJ didn't answer with words. He probably couldn't if he wanted to, face mushed where it was. Instead, he just squeezed harder. His thumb brushed a fat nipple that hardened under his touch like it had been waiting decades for this kind of attention. 

Baka arched, she pressed her colossal body down until he was smothered in her pale cleavage. The house sighed with her own two sighs. Studs in the walls that either groaned in protest of her shifting mass; or perhaps they were just another vent for her moaning.

Her rough tongue dragged across his mohawk, matting it back with saliva that smelled faintly of petrichor and iron. “Master stays. Baka good wife.”

Buried under her, the brujo returned a purr. She pushed JJ lower. His hand wandered lower. It slipped between her thick thighs, where her furry sex was already slick and hot. It dripped with the kind of need only a spirit could possess. His fingers found the swollen folds and pressed in. Two at first, then more. She yowled and rocked against his fist, pushing it wholly inside her. 

A fluffy tail wrapped around his own sex. He made a muffled scream into her core as her tip burned his own. Times like this, he regretted the circumcision. He thought he knew the price he paid. But all he knew for sure, was knowing didn't mean shit at the moment. San Satanás, was he turned on right now. San Satanás, his stretched cock burned even more because of it. San Satanás, that only turned him on more.

The uncoiled tail flicked the tip of his cocked back and forth. He screamed more. Good God, did breathing hurt. His ensnared fist desperately tried to punch her uterus, trying to get her off in every way possible. 

He came first, signalled by a deep growl from his chest. She milked him dry with her flames as the brujo went into his signature seizure as Baka lifted herself off him. Baka did not reach a climax, nor was it her goal to. She shrank in size, taking the guise of a fragile waif, and laying her head on a purple pec as she circled her index finger across his chest. Unusually for Baka, she kept her ears and tails in this form.

Eventually, his spasms stopped. Baka put a cigarette in his lips and lit the end with one of her tails. She emphasized a purr as she nuzzled against the brujo's neck.

Inhale. Hold. Exhale smoke through imperfect teeth. “Fuck, gata. That was certainly the….hottest sex I've ever had.” He winced in pain as he adjust.

“Master can't leave. Master needs to heal.” Baka murmured, revealing her play. A claw clutched his arm, and she looked at him with an old sorrow in thise those emerald eyes. 

JJ stared at the ceiling. Inhale. Hold. Exhale. Damn the breathing hurt. And the need to cough smoke wasn't helping. He inhaled harder. The brujo's face was red. But he didn't reply. He didn't need to. His answer was the same.

Baka stiffened. “Finger promised,” she said quietly. “Tiny toy said Master stays if Baka good wife. Baka cleaned. Baka fed. Baka loves.” Her tongue flicked out, rough and possessive, lapping at the sweat on his collarbone. 

If there was one sensation JJ could get used to, it was that overly large tongue.

Near the doorway, there was a tiny outraged squeak. Finger hovered in, face red, wings buzzing like an angry hornet. “I said no such thing! I said you’d get to come with us, you overgrown–”

One of Baka’s ear flicked. A tail shot out like a whip and gently (well, gently for the nekomata) knocked the homunculus back in the hallway. The door clicked shut on its own. Privacy.

JJ chuckled, then immediately regretted it. He inhaled his cigarette and held his ribs. “Aye. Ugh.” He scratched his chin in thought. “Would you like to come with us Baka?”

She sat up with a lowered gaze. Two fingers on opposing hands touched the other. “Baka can't leave house.”

“The hell you talking about. I've seen you leave a couple times. Ugh.”

But he already knew what she meant. This house was an extension of the nekomata. The spirits comprised always had an ugly sort of entanglement. Baka wasn't just the ghost of a woman. She was the ghost of a woman, cat, and home. She was able to leave, but only so far from the structure, and only for so long. Then she would dissipate for a while, then return to the heart of her home.

She just sat there, looking sad, rubbing her finger tips together. Ugh. She was on his stomach.

“Baka…”

She perked up, straightening a slouched position. Still on his stomach. “Ugh…would you like to….” JJ thought for a moment longer. It would cost him something great to pull it off. “Bettie. I can…what I mean to say is, you can come with me if you wanted. I can take the house.” 

Baka started lifting herself up and down in excitement. “Aye! Aye! Gata! Aye!”

****

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Asked the pixie. 

JJ turned the ignition and tapped the breaks. Bettie's purr was better than it'd been in years. Smooth as scotch. “I don't do ‘good ideas’ Finger. That's why I have you. But, I does figure it's cheaper than motels.”

“With the price you paid, I'm not so sure.”

The Brewster Green Trans Am rolled out the driveway. There were a couple huffs and puffs, but they were the sounds of a well oiled grill. When it left the lot, the lot was gone. Into the air, as it had arrived when they first pulled up. 

A fluffy white cat with two tails sat in the passenger seat. The engine and cat seemed to communicate with their very expressive vibrations. Baka swatted at the homunculus that tried to land near her. Finger eventually went to rest on the wheel, right above the stub of JJ’s missing digit.

“So JJ, where to?” Finger asked as they hit the highway. 

“Mm.” JJ fauxed a ponder. The interaction was something between a joke and ritual. “Thatward…I guess.”

The Pontiac cracked down the highway. Bettie was something starving and finally fed. Her sounds were almost smug, like she’d won an argument with the feline.

In the passenger seat, Baka shifted. She lounged in her waifish lady form. Kimono barely clinging to her curves. Two tails draped across the console. 

One tail kept brushing JJ’s thigh, the other occasionally flicking at Finger like she was an annoying fly. It was obvious she was trying to prove a point. 

“Gata. Driving.”

Baka stopped.

Finger’s wings twitched. She finally realizing something. “Oh, oh no. This is going to end badly. JJ, you just hitched a whole haunted house to your cursed car. To Bettie.”

“Eh. Equis. Is what it is.”