Mai, the gigantic scheming blonde mayor.

Anyone in town was happy to give directions to the Yamasaki compound.

Hardly necessary, of course. Even a weapon understood that the biggest house, on the biggest hill, held the biggest person. Sometimes that was purely metaphorical, but in addition to the familial and financial power that bought her uncontested election every year, Mai Yamasaki was also enormous for a cat.

This was the place to put a command center; the view was commanding. As Sasha climbed the well-paved central road, the white-haired boy could glance back over his shoulder, brush a stray lock of silky hair aside with his gloved artificial left hand, and see Lilisburgh unfold beneath him.

Rivers and roads looked scarcely any different up there. Both crisscrossed the endless green fields and rolling plains of this verdant land.

The approach was intimidating. Sasha had besieged smaller, younger, and less sturdy looking fortresses than the Yamasaki family abode. High stone walls even fliers would have trouble with; slanted battlements ideal for defensive shooters; wrought-iron gates heavy enough that he, or a truck, would have some difficulty bulling them aside.

Luckily, an intercom allowed him to ring up and announce his arrival.

The very image of a sharp, competent black-haired maid answered his call, promptly appearing on the other side of those heavy bars. With long, black gloves and leggings beneath a too-short, ruffled hoop skirt and puffy shoulders, the only part of her skin that wouldn’t be covered was her face…

Except she also bore a facemask, just as black, made out of gleaming leather. Only stopping before a pair of keen emerald-green eyes. With that intensity, and all the material of her nontraditional maid outfit, she projected size above that what her height could give.

That was okay; she projected forward in certain ways, too. Visibly busty, only emphasized by the formal way she pushed her hands together, arms framing huge breasts beneath her dress.

“Good evening, sir. Sasha Sokolov, I take it?”

He came to attention. “That’s right. How-”

“You’re the first new face I’ve seen in ten years that wasn’t an intruder. The young mistress is expecting you. Please stand clear of the gate.”

Considering her lack of tail or ears, or any other distinguishing markings, he had to assume she was a human being. He couldn’t then explain how she got the gates to move. Some of that metal groaning could have concealed a diesel motor or something. Sasha preferred to account for it that way, and stepped inside.

The maid, who had not identified herself in any way, took the lead, high-heels clacking against the stone path leading up to the house’s wide, traditional wooden front porch. Sliding paper doors and lit box lanterns transported Sasha Sokolov to another world, a sheltered space within the walled garden.

This was the keep.

Others were present at the house, all fellow nekomata, wearing elegant flowery robes; mostly women. The few men were old, perhaps as ancient as forty. All took pains to avoid the visitor behind gardens full of exotic freshly-blooming flowers in a rainbow of hues. They didn’t even look at him, whispering to themselves at a distance they presumed he couldn’t hear.

“Mai really does whatever she feels like, doesn’t she…?”

“Inviting an outsider where most villagers can’t tread!”

“She’s sending a message.”

“Show some gratitude, grandpa. He’s here to fix a problem you’re too old to!”

‘Fellow nekomata’ was probably stretching it. It wasn’t unsettling to him to be viewed as such an outsider; even his ‘fellow’ Alliance soldiers had always held him apart, avoided him when possible. The only time regular army troopers were grateful to see him was in the thick of battle.

Well, as that girl had mumbled, they needed him here. So whatever traditions of isolation obtained, nobody so much as gave him a dirty look. In fact, many of the ladies appraised him above their fluttering paper fans and twirling umbrellas.

The maid spoke up, her voice calm, detached, but not hostile. “Pay them no heed, there’s some big meeting tonight. I suppose warning you about her is pointless, too. If you’ve met the young mistress, and accepted her brazen invitation, then you’re well aware of what comes next.”

“Yes,” Sasha nodded, though the maid’s eyes were locked dead ahead.

“I’ll offer, anyway. If she’s too much to handle, I will be outside. Merely call upon me, your humble maid Anzu. I will help you subdue her.”

Subdue, huh.

A memory of the Captain trying to wrangle that obscene, plump mass of woman came to mind. This maid girl had a different, more dangerous aura, one that a fellow weapon recognized instinctively, so maybe she’d have better luck containing the raging blonde storm that was Mai Yamasaki.

Though this was Sasha’s responsibility, and he wouldn’t shirk.

The maid delicately knocked at one of the endless rows of paper doors. “Young mistress? Have you finished your bath?”

“As luck would have it, I’ve just gotten out~”

The door slid aside, and a mass of fluffy blonde hair spilled out like sunlight, followed by a familiar, beautiful face. Pale, soft round cheeks were flushed, and baby-blue eyes lidded with visible excitement. The ‘young mistress’ spotted Sasha, and a smile blossomed wide.

A touch too wide, which Sasha was finally coming to recognize was an ill omen.

Far too late to back out now. Beneath her fluffy, open white bathrobe, an enormous wealth of creamy skin spread out before his eyes. Even just some of one bare breast was the largest prize Sasha had ever personally laid eyes upon, and as she leaned forward, more was revealed. Just a tantalizing slice of what lied beneath. Freshly-bathed, and with perfumes and bath scents wafting off her into the darkened hallway.

In addition to her own potent, pulse-pounding pheromone.

“Sasha, darling! So glad to see you without my beloved Miki here to spoil the mood. Please, come right in~”

For a woman to show him a sight such as that, then give an invitation of words dripping with intent… Sasha’s heart thundered, and he had to compose himself before stepping forth.

"Mmmh~ Oh my~"

He failed.

Natural stoicism melted just as her massive breasts yielded to a firm groping.

Both automail and natural hands sank deep into deep flesh, grasping with forceful strength that would be far too much on a smaller woman. Here, he couldn’t squeeze hard enough with all that breast right there, and the noises that the young mistress made were exclusively ones of purring pleasure.

She had such a potent brew of sights and scents, boundless curves, entrancing beauty, Sasha couldn’t wait for mere words. He was always, first, a man of action. He kissed her deeply, pressing against her, stronger yet smaller. Male in all the ways she was female; hard against soft. Achingly hard.

Yamasaki’s scent and taste lined up perfectly. Honey. Powerful, sweet, addictive.

Anzu solemnly wished him luck, and locked the door behind them.