Adults Only

 

You Bad Milk Bunny!

 

        Chikan Dojo

    A novel based on the eroge dating game "Rapelay" published by by Illusion Software, 2006

    I'm sorry, but this story is unavailable at the moment. Here's a teaser from the first chapter...



    The green train from Niigata to Kita-Suyama is my favorite. Seventy minutes to the first stop, forty-five minutes to the second, and another fifty-five to the last. Nearly three hours with only two interruptions, and a lot of long tunnels in between. For a man like me, that's an awful lot like heaven. Especially when a pretty little girl like Manaka Kiryu is traveling such a long distance all by herself.

    I've seen her before. The third Saturday of every month, shortly after breakfast and cartoons, Manaka's sexy mother, Yuko, drops the girl off at the train station. She double check's her daughter's pink suitcase, fusses over her hair, and gives the girl a kiss goodbye. It's a heart warming scene and I wouldn't miss it for the world.

    Early in the evening of every third Sunday, Manaka returns to Niigata. Her beautiful older sister, Aoi, is always waiting. They greet each other with hugs and smiles, kisses on rosy cheeks, and walk home talking about their grandparents. That's where Manaka's been, over the river and through the woods to visit their only other relatives.

    Yuko's husband, the father of her daughters, died some years ago. He left them well off financially, enough so that Yuko doesn't have to work, but they only have each other. I know all of this because I've made it a point to know. Such a wonderful family can't help but draw attention of a certain sort. I've enjoyed getting to know them and it's amazing the sort of details one can learn simply by keeping the eyes and ears open.

    Manaka is only twelve and such a delightful child. They're all beautiful, but her innocence is especially captivating. Blue is her favorite color, although last month it was a particular shade of green. She likes strawberry ice cream and oatmeal cookies. She wants a pet dog and has already named him Majibu, but her mother isn't sure Manaka can handle the responsibility. She never learned to swim and she had her first period only two months ago. She left school early that day, as I recall.

    The best way to follow someone is to stay ahead of them, rather than behind. Not that bright-eyed Manaka would ever notice being stalked in any event. A girl her age has no concept of personal danger. Tragedy strikes in other, less direct ways. Like losing a father. It was bad, perhaps the worst thing in the world for her, but not helpful from a self-preservation standpoint. It taught her that the universe was unjust and life wasn't fair, without warning her of that most simple, golden rule: We survive by chance alone.


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    I followed Manaka and Yuko as they walked hand in hand from their house to the train station. It wasn't for, only twenty minutes or so. I stayed half a block ahead of them, stopping to tie my shoe when Manaka begged her mother for an ice cream cone out of a vending machine.

    By the time they'd said their goodbyes, I was already waiting on the platform. I looked much like any other young man, I suppose. I was twenty-six, but with my fashionably long hair and stylish western clothes, I thought appeared somewhat younger than that. It didn't really matter, except to my vanity. I was a good looking guy, everyone said so, and I'd had a few girlfriends in the past. They never lasted long, however, and I was looking to solve that problem.

    The clunk-clunk-clunking of Manaka's suitcase on the stairs drew my attention. The overnight bag had wheels on the bottom and a telescoping handle. She pulled it behind her without too much effort and refused a kindly old man's offer to help. Independent Manaka wanted to do everything by herself, as most thirteen-year-olds do. She'd worn her blue dress and white, knee high socks. Small, black shoes with silver buckles, and a thin barrette with those silly cat ears that she favored.

    Her breasts were little more than bumps protruding thoughtfully from her chest. They wanted to grow. They were trying, but for the moment her puckish nipples were of more immediate interest to me. I loved the way they pressed against the cotton of her dress. No bra for her, not yet. She possessed soft, round hips and a pert, round ass, which I admired greatly. Manaka seemed to be the sort of girl who developed from the ground up, as they say. I wondered if she had any pubic hair yet, it wouldn't surprise me either way.

    What a creature. Her expressive face couldn't hide anything she felt. Surprise, joy, hurt, embarrassment, whatever happened to the girl was instantly reflected in her eyes, telegraphed to the world with her mouth and hands, even the way she tilted her hips. A girl like that is a treasure, I told myself on more than one occasion. You can't build one or buy one, all you can do is search and hope that someday you might come across a girl like Manaka. When it happens - if it happens - you have an obligation to do something about it.

    That's my philosophy, anyway.

               

    Look for Chikan Dojo coming late 2012 to this website!

 

 

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