I receive something you might call "The Royal Rainshower"

Thinking I might lessen the sentence, so to speak, I obediently took the knee in front of the Princess. If she seemed satisfied rather than indignant, or flirtatious rather than nursing a beast-like hunger, I'd probably expect her to knight me or something, perhaps putting her dick over each of my shoulders in turn. That would be silly, but no sillier than her wrapping up her penis in sword paper.

Instead, she grabbed one hand around the scary length of her cock, then pointed it in my direction. Resting one curled fist upon her hip, she used her fingers to stroke up and down the veined surface, while smiling down upon with me with raised eyebrows that dared me to move from this spot. Some announcer somewhere was comparing this to the American wrestling scene where the Rockers broke up; I didn't catch the reference, but it hardly mattered right now. I knew that tag team break ups were always a dirty affair, but they should never be this dirty! The Princess was clearly counting on me to sit there and take it as she slowly jerked off and shot her load atop my head.

As I stared at the head of her cock, wide-eyed, I heard her scoff. "I said kneel! Head lowered, please. Be thankful I'm allowing you to show fealty, instead of just shooting it rudely upon your face, as I was **** to endure. This is a show of mercy," she explained, moving her hand from her hip to the top of my head, in order to **** my face back towards the direction of the mat. "Rest assured that if Desperado #1 was here in your place, #2, she would be receiving the exact same treatment."

That just makes me feel worse! If I think of it as a "punishment fits the crime" deal, then it isn't so bad, but when she says she'd do the same thing to punish her original partner for skipping out on the match, that just makes it seem like she wants to whack off on anybody and it doesn't matter who! Also, isn't it going in my hair even worse than on my face? I'd end up completely unable to get it off without taking a shower...

With her doing all the work and with me not touching her at all-- in fact, not even allowed to look at her-- there was no telling how close she was to eruption. I doubted she was the type who'd make a lot of noise during masturbation either. As a result, I was left with nothing to listen to other than the cheers of the audience and the depraved rambling of the men who had decided "underground futanari sportscaster" sounded like a great career move. Every now and then, my eyes would flicker upward and fall upon her hand, clenched into a fist and rubbing rhythmically up and down that huge cock of hers; I flinched every time, thinking either the knuckles would keep going and punch me in the face, or else, that the payload was about to fire.

"Miss Hojo," the Princess spoke evenly. "You may think poorly of me now, but you've actually done me quite a service by agreeing to participate as my tag team partner. Once you serve penance through this small punishment, you'll find me to be a charitable friend at the agency, going forward. Does that seem strange? Even I can feel gratitude. If you are still willing to have me as a friend, I will have you."

... A friend at the agency? Going forward? Was I actually going to report to the agency again, after this first assignment I'd ended up with? It was hard to imagine... And yet... A friend at the agency! I felt myself getting the sniffles. I knew it was a ridiculous thought to have while she was fapping just over the top of my head, but what a wonderful promise! That's what I'd wanted all along, right? Someone to show me the ropes and make Genkei's creeping just a little less creepy, so that I can take advantage of the rich monetary payment he's promising without simply stumbling cluelessly from one embarrassing scenario to the next. Of course, the Princess herself was a little creepy and perverted... Hm... I'm not so sure I like this after all.

But it wouldn't hurt to pretend to! I raised my head to tell the princess I'd be happy to accept-

I saw the Princess squint her eyes and bite one finger on her unoccupied hand for just a moment to stifle her voice, before suddenly, my vision was overtaken with strings of cum, fired directly onto my glasses, then knocking them slightly down the bridge of my nose so that the rest blasted around my eyes like a mask. Thankfully, I'd already realized by that point to close my eyes... But the smell of it! Once her aim began to drop, it continued, depositing onto my nose and my lips, with just a bit getting into my mouth before I decided to close it. I felt it dripping from my bangs in droopy, slowly dangling strands, resting upon the roundness of my cheeks, and even down to my collar bone. This was the peril of taking a futanari's cum-bath: that increased production is like having a whole team of partners bukkake you all at once. If I'd managed to shoot so much upon the Princess when I was trying to hold it in, you can only imagine how much the Princess ended up depositing upon me, as she pumped her penis in quiet ecstasy.

I blinked a few times as she finished, then reached for my glasses and pushed them back into place slowly. It did no good; the lenses were also covered in her sperm, making it impossible to see out of them.

I suddenly jumped to my feet and began snapping. How was this an eye for an eye?! Even if I did accidentally give the Princess a facial, this was way worse than what I did to her, right? It's everywhere! I need a shower... no, a decontamination! I need one of those decontamination chambers from the science fiction movies to get all of this off of me!

"Ahem..." the Princess coughed into one fist, perhaps acknowledging that the punishment hadn't quite fit the crime. "Calm yourself, Miss Hojo. We will fetch a towel for you in the training room. I will meet you there-"

No! I couldn't see anything, dammit! I couldn't even make it to the training room! Those were prescription glasses-- which are now ruined!

"Careful how you speak to me! I will lead you there, since you are... vision-impaired. I will cover the meager cost for those highly unfashionable spectacles of yours. But do not deign to speak to me that way again!"

... Yes ma'am.

The crowd had cheered us as we made our exit, even if our "promo" had ran a little long. Once we were back to the training room, I was given a towel, then taken to the shower. Blessedly, I was not joined in there by any more futanari or their cocks... I'd had enough stimulation for one day and I never wanted to see another professional wrestling match again. Come to think of it, I wasn't partial to them even before today.

The Princess was supposedly going to be busy for the rest of the day, taking photos and signing things. She hadn't even bothered to shower off. Apparently, cum across one's face is like blood across a typical wrestler's face; it "adds color" to a futanari match, like a scar of battle. I didn't want to learn any more rules of underground futanari wrestling, so I accepted that without question.

Under the shower, I pondered to myself if I was even happy that Princess and I had ended up on better terms. Would I be best off trying to avoid her for the rest of my time as a detective at ODD? Or should I embrace my relationship with her and see if we can solve some actual cases together, instead of conducting any more wrestling matches? The thought did have a certain appeal... Getting used to the Princess had taken long enough. If everyone else here is a nut-case like her, it'd be like hell, adjusting to a new partner every day.

Once I was cleaned and toweled off, I dressed into my pant-suit and got my glasses as clean as I could manage, desperately wishing I'd brought a back-up pair. They looked fine enough, but just remembering how they'd been coated in jizz made me extremely **** to wear them again, no matter how well I cleaned them.

... The conversation with the glasses salesperson was so embarrassing, as I desperately worked to convince her that I'd had an accident while working with a glue-gun, that I almost wished I'd just tried to adjust to life half-blind. She hadn't needed to be a detective to squint suspiciously at hearing that strange story.

With a new pair of swirly nerd glasses in tow, I head home, finally feeling like my old self again. I'd probably feel that way the rest of the night... as though the ODD Agency was just a bad dream... A bad dream that I'd return to the next day.