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Description
Ninetails knew many, many curses, some forgotten by time, others absorbed into common language, and this was the first time she had ever run out. Instead she snarled through the gag, directing every hateful thought towards the wolf that had defeated her. She asked herself why she’d ever bothered to learn a few scattered Brush Techniques. It was definitely a godly thing to do, and she’d become quite good at the few she had discovered. Or so she had thought. When she’d challenged the mongrel goddess Amaterasu to a fight, she’d discovered herself a rank amateur. Before she could so much as draw a line through the weak wolf spirit’s designs, Amaterasu had returned with a symbol so complex it defied the imagination. The effect had been the fox’s immediate, unconditional, and unwilling surrender.

The tiny, bouncing insect that had followed Amaterasu to what was supposed to be her destruction was now bouncing crazily atop the fox’s head, speaking so excitedly as to be incomprehensible. No use of the Vine technique had ever had such an effect. The leafless tendrils were around her limbs, body, and neck, folding the powerful demon into a helpless mass. And how had the rock-hard melon gotten into her mouth? Had Amaterasu gotten the idea when she’d attempted to seduce the goddess in the form of a well-endowed priestess? Whatever had happened, Ninetails was beyond furious. She gave Amaterasu a piercing glare from her bound position, fuming over her innocent look, as if she hadn’t just bound and humilated her superior like a subservient mate. Snarling again, Ninetails swore she would have revenge!

Description
Ninetails knew many, many curses, some forgotten by time, others absorbed into common language, and this was the first time she had ever run out. Instead she snarled through the gag, directing every hateful thought towards the wolf that had defeated her. She asked herself why she’d ever bothered to learn a few scattered Brush Techniques. It was definitely a godly thing to do, and she’d become quite good at the few she had discovered. Or so she had thought. When she’d challenged the mongrel goddess Amaterasu to a fight, she’d discovered herself a rank amateur. Before she could so much as draw a line through the weak wolf spirit’s designs, Amaterasu had returned with a symbol so complex it defied the imagination. The effect had been the fox’s immediate, unconditional, and unwilling surrender.

The tiny, bouncing insect that had followed Amaterasu to what was supposed to be her destruction was now bouncing crazily atop the fox’s head, speaking so excitedly as to be incomprehensible. No use of the Vine technique had ever had such an effect. The leafless tendrils were around her limbs, body, and neck, folding the powerful demon into a helpless mass. And how had the rock-hard melon gotten into her mouth? Had Amaterasu gotten the idea when she’d attempted to seduce the goddess in the form of a well-endowed priestess? Whatever had happened, Ninetails was beyond furious. She gave Amaterasu a piercing glare from her bound position, fuming over her innocent look, as if she hadn’t just bound and humilated her superior like a subservient mate. Snarling again, Ninetails swore she would have revenge!