It's Sunday. The day of the con finally arrived. Makoto was a wreck, almost completely drained. He had spent the last ten days as the willing victim of a relentless army of horny women.
Especially on Saturday, it had been an enduring trial for his strength. It started with Mika waking him at dawn with a wake-up blow job. Before the poor Makoto could fully wake up, she already straddled him with determination, claiming she needed to "test the tensile strength" of the Nezuko kimono by riding him until he saw stars.
He barely had time to recover before Ayane cornered him in the kitchen after lunch while he was washing the dishes. She pinned him against the fridge, her hands down his pants. She laughed cruelly as she jerked him off with relentless and punishing speed, claiming it was "pre-festival warm-ups" and refusing to let him go until he made a mess on the floor.
By afternoon, Makoto was hiding in his room, conserving energy and preparing his CV for his internship. Unfortunately, Yuna found him and opened the door easily with her spare key.
Without asking, Yuna just shoved him onto the bed, muttering about how the Main Wife required a large amount of attention to calm down before a big event. She rode and ground on him until he was shooting dust, her nails digging into his chest.
And the final, devastating blow came from Mafuyu. The sweet, gentle Mafuyu, who crept into his bed late at night "just to cuddle," only to end up giving him a sloppy, desperate blowjob that wrung the last drops of life from his body while whispering apologies the entire time.
Makoto was pretty sure he had cum more in the past two weeks than he had in the entire last year. Maybe his harem was making sure they drained him dry, so that he couldn't pull any more lewd tricks at the festival.
Back to the present, Yuna, Mika, Ayane were in their cosplay, Makoto was in the ridiculous Muzan kimono, and Mafuyu was in her sundress. They drove towards the convention center with the merchandise in the car trunk.
Yuna sat in her Shinobu costume like a small and grumpy butterfly of death. She was meticulously applying her makeup in the rearview mirror with a fierce look on her face. "Stop driving so fast, you fat pig!" she snarled. "You're going to make me smudge my eyeliner!"
Ayane was in her Mitsuri costume, a whirlwind of pink and green and an astonishing amount of cleavage. She had her phone out, live-streaming their entire journey to her surprisingly large number of followers. "And here we have the main wife in her natural, pre-battle state. Isn't she adorable when she's angry?"
Mika was in her Nezuko costume. She's now a small and fragile demon with pale, delicate skin. She stayed in character, not saying a word, just sitting there with the bamboo muzzle, her pink eyes wide and innocent.
Mafuyu wore her simple, elegant sundress and served as a calm, steady presence amid the chaos. She was an efficient manager in charge of the snacks and drinks. "No more Pocky until we get there, Ayane-chan," she said, her voice soft but firm.
Finally, Makoto sat in the ridiculous Muzan kimono, looking like a dark, tiring demon lord. He was too tired and too worried to retort now.
The car stopped in the parking lot. "So, let's go through the plan again. Mika, Mafuyu, and I will take care of our booth in the morning." Makoto said when he and Ayane took out the goods and carried them inside. "You two can go buy anything you want and do some promo for us, then we'll switch shifts in the afternoon. Anything I missed?"
"You missed the most important part, idiot," Yuna snarled, adjusting the butterfly clip in her hair with an impatient tug. She glared at him, her violet-lensed eyes blazing with competitive fire. "We are going to join and win the group cosplay competition at 3 PM. That's the entire point of this whole ridiculous festival. The prize money will cover the cost of our afterparty."
"And try to actually sell something," Ayane added with an amused drawl. She was already attracting a small crowd of admirers; her ridiculously open top is free fan service. "Don't just stand there looking intimidating, Muzan-sama." She winked slowly. "Unless you think that's a sales strategy. In which case, carry on."
Mika gave a small, muffled nod from behind her muzzle and handed Makoto a small, neatly folded piece of paper. It was their pricing list, complete with bundled deals, a "buy two get one free" offer, and a handwritten note at the bottom: "Picture with Nezuko - 2,000 yen (~14$). No touching allowed."
Mafuyu, laden with a tote bag full of water bottles and homemade onigiri, offered an encouraging smile. "Don't worry, we'll be fine. Just... have fun." She looked at the two beautiful demon slayers.
Then she looked back at the poor Makoto. For a moment, a flicker of something like care and pity flashed in her eyes.
===
Makoto, Mika, and Mafuyu got to their booth. Thanks to the viral tweet, there was already a line of people waiting to collect their pre-orders. They were a small but dedicated army of weebs, nerds, and assorted degenerates who had come to claim their prizes. The long line was a testament to Ayane's amateur but effective social media campaign.
"Thanks for supporting us," Makoto said, nodding as he started handing out merchandise. He was the face of the operation. His Muzan kimono, which had felt so ridiculous in the car, now gave him an air of strange, almost intimidating authority. People even called him Muzan-sama. "It was weirdly thrilling," he thought.
Mika was a silent and effective saleswoman. She didn't have to say a word, just stood there in her Nezuko costume, and people just threw money at her. A man in a sweat-stained Naruto headband bought three photobooks, five Nezuko Polaroid photos, and a full set of acrylic standees without even blinking.
But Mafuyu was the heart of the operation. She kept the line orderly, offered people water and a sigh at the end of the line, and thanked them for their purchases with a genuine, heartfelt smile. She was a calming, steady presence amid their chaos.
"Hmm, that man dared to look at my Mika lewdly, but at least his wallet was thick," Makoto sneered, arranging the merchandise. Then he leaned over and whispered to Mika. "I remember the rule was 'no saying no,' wasn't it?"
Mika's half-pink, half-brown eyes flickered with sudden light. It was a spark of shock, followed instantly by a thrilled, terrified excitement. She didn't hesitate and gave him a small, sharp nod of absolute obedience.
He looked into her innocent eyes, "So, I want a blowjob now. Do it under the table so people won't see." He pretended to drop a small acrylic standee. "Oops, can you help me pick it up, Mika?"
"Mmmph!" she said, a muffled, affirmative sound from behind the bamboo. She followed the fallen standee and immediately dropped to her knees, disappearing behind the long, draped tablecloth that covered their booth.
Mafuyu, who was handing a customer their change, noticed the movement out of the corner of her eye. She saw Makoto staring down with a smirk on his face. Her eyes widened for a fraction of a second, her face flushing a deep crimson.
Mafuyu understood immediately. Without missing a beat, she turned her full attention to the customer, a young man with glasses and a backpack covered in Konosuba keychains. "Oh, are you going to the Konosuba panel later?" she asked, her voice louder than usual, creating a perfect wall of sound and distraction. "I hear they're selling exclusive posters..."
Beneath the table, in the dark, thrillingly public space, Makoto could feel the rustle of Mika's kimono against his legs. There was a soft, clinking sound of bamboo against plastic as she worked to untie her muzzle.