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Enter the Naked Mole Rat	By : kwh Category: Kim Possible > Threesomes/Moresomes Views: 18154 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Kim Possible, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
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When Toshimiru had journeyed to Manchuria, he was already a gifted and accomplished martial artist, and he had already studied Tai Sheng Pek Kwar amongst several other Japanese and Chinese fighting arts. When he was chosen by the Manchurian Shaman who was keeper of the spirit of Sun Wukong, to receive the mystical monkey power, he revelled in his newfound skills and abilities as a martial artist and explored them to the fullest extent. He knew something already of the 5 martial forms of Tai Sheng Pek Kwar (or Dai Shing Pop Gar as the manchurian Shaman knew it) and was highly skilled in three of them. Mastering each one alone could be a lifetime's study for a dedicated martial artist, and yet Toshimiru found himself mystically imbued with complete mastery of the way of the tall monkey, the way of the wooden monkey, the way of the lost monkey, the way of the stone monkey, and the most elusive and difficult fighting form of Tai Sheng Pek Kwar, the way of the drunken monkey.
Toshimiru himself never looked beyond mastery of the 5 martial forms of Tai Sheng Pek Kwar when he gained mystical monkey power and never suggested to his pupils that they should do so; which is a pity, because as anyone who knows the legend of Sun Wukong could have told him, the monkey king was far more than an incomparable martial artist, and the power he left behind imbued those touched by it with mastery of four further forms.
If only they had known.
Mystical monkey power didn't come with a user manual. If nobody had told you, you would only know you had it when you ended up in a fight with somebody and suddenly discovered that you were unexpectedly a master of five forms of monkey kung-fu.
In truth, not all of the non-martial forms, developed by Sun Wukong in the mists of Chinese pre-history, were entirely relevant in the modern world of pre-feudal japan. And some of them were outrageously frivolous even when they were created.
The 6th form, for example, is total mastery of a primitive and rather unpromising single-stringed musical instrument with an unpronounceable name that was prevalent in just one small region of China some thousand years previously. No such instrument had existed for 800 years, and then not within a thousand miles. And no such instrument would exist until the entirely co-incidental invention of the uncannily similar tea-chest bass one and a half millenia later.
The 7th form is mastery of cloud flying. The prequisite for cloud flying being availability of an enchanted cloud, this was also not a form of immediate relevance.
The 8th form was dear to Sun Wukong's heart, despite it having earned him five centuries buried under a mountain. It is supreme mastery of urinatory calligraphy. That is ‘writing your name in the snow’, but with really precise and beautiful handwriting. Female mystical monkey masters would have been well advised to warm up and stretch for at least half an hour before practising this form, had they known of their skill; the gyrations involved for them in producing some kanji pictograms would have reminded one of a serious gymnastic workout.
But then there was the 9th form. Sun Wukong didn't even develop it for his own pleasure. In fact, he used ancient magic to create the 9th form of mystical monkey power for the sole ignoble purpose of annoying Zhu-Bajie, his companion on the legendary long journey south. Zhu-Bajie, a notoriously prolific serial lothario, suddenly found that he had lost his touch. People kept stealing his potential sexual conquests from his arms and then satisfying them beyond human endurance, thus ensuring that Zhu-Bajie's prodigous lusts remained unfulfilled. Unknown to him, it was Sun Wukong, in various guises. For 6 months, Sun Wukong had denied Zhu-Bajie every single sexual indulgence by beating him to the punch as it were, and he became more and more frustrated. Whatever he tried, Sun Wukong was always one step ahead. He changed form to become a woman to chase lesbians, but Sun Wukong was there first, and ended up stealing the women from out of his bed in one case. He tried seducing men as a man, and Sun Wukong got in there first again. He even tried seducing men in the form of a beautiful woman, but again he was denied.
Finally, at his wits end, he caught Sun Wukong in the act as he laughed so much he inadvertently changed back to his own form at the wrong moment, and the long running practical joke was over.
But the 9th form of mystical monkey power remained.
The 9th form encompasses all the accumulated skill and knowledge of humankind in the art, science and emotion of sensuality, sexuality and sexual activity. Think of the Karma Sutra as representing a small footnote in the encyclopaedic knowledge of the art of erotic indulgence available to a master of the 9th form. With the knowledge comes the skill to apply it to any sexual situation.
But not one of the mystical monkey masters of the Yamanouchi monastery had ever known of the gift of any of the final four forms of the power, let alone the 9th. And now the last of them was only going to discover his mastery of the 9th form on his metaphorical deathbed.
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Mito Kyoki bowed to Master Fujiwara, then lent forward and kissed him lightly on the forehead, before smiling at him as she backed away to the other side of the tub. Then, guilty for enjoying the moment, she turned to a slightly hunted looking Tori Itoh and gave him an encouraging nod and a smile, much as he had given to her. And now she was resolved to do what he would have done if Master Fujiwara had taken her up on her offer.
Watch.
Partly out of curiosity, and partly because thinking about it was really getting her wet...
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Now he'd done it. Tori Itoh had just agreed all too readily to the idea that his lover should pleasure another man while he watched, and was now hoist by his own petard. True, he respected - even loved - his sensei, and it was indeed their honour to fulfill his last wish before his imminent death, but it was so much easier to encourage Mito to have sex with another man while he watched than to offer to do it himself. Not least, because he didn't consider himself to be homosexual.
Fortunately, he was open minded. And, as a disciplined martial artist, all be it more sexually active than recent tradition had dictated, he was more than willing to endure to achieve. He could do this.
He hadn't ever lusted after a man, although he had admired one or two. Nome more so than the body of Master Toshimiru, for its awesome physique.
"Well, if having sex with that body doesn't do anything for me, then I can be pretty sure I'm straight" he told himself, with resigned amusement. Then, he steeled himself, and moved slowly across the wooden tub towards Master Fujiwara. He bowed slightly and said, softly "It is my honour, sensei!", as he stopped, legs touching Master Fujiwara, who had developed an expression that seemed to combine gratitude with barely disguised lust, scaring Tori just a little.
But rather than scare him right out the tub, the mystical monkey master lent in and tenderly kissed him on the forehead. He calmed down slightly. The next tender kiss was on the tip of his nose. OK, he could cope with this. It wasn't lighting his candle, but he could do this for his sensei. Then the next, oh so tender kiss was a peck on the lips. And as they parted, Tori heard Mito give a sudden involuntary gasp, a sound he recognised and a sideways glance revealed that the hand that wasn't holding the side of the tub was clearly somewhere between her legs as she was getting off on what he was doing with Master Fujiwara. And suddenly at the thought of her getting off on what he was doing, he found himself getting quite aroused. And the next time Sato Fujiwara leant in to peck him on the lips, he opened his mouth and drew him in to a full on snog, and the little yelp of uncontrollable pleasure from his lover who was frigging herself into ecstasy as she watched, spurred him on again.
And then Sato Fujiwara's hand carressed his testes gently before slipping into place around his now engorged member and it was his turn to yelp in some surprise. Moments later, guided by the power of the 9th form of mystical monkey power, Master Fujiwara's hand began a rythmic movement that took Tori Itoh's breath away. And suddenly it was him letting his head fall back and moaning in ecstasy, and the fact that it was a man who was giving him a better hand-job than he had ever given himself was suddenly no longer important.
He was so wrapped up in his own unexpected pleasure after that moment, that he didn't hear Mito Kyoki's screaming climax. Nor her next one, nor indeed the two after that.
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Mito Kyoki woke at about midnight, and propped herself on one arm to check that the candles she and Tori had set around the mortal remains of the last guardian of Sosumiha still burnt brightly, as he lay in a fine white silk Gi, awaiting his interment in the morning. The end had been sudden, but not in any way unexpected. Tori had been so spent that he had been dozing to one side of the tub, and Mito had him to herself. For a few minutes it was just like it always used to be - Sensei patiently instructing her. She still remembered when she had been a little girl and Master Fujiwara had taught her how to punch without breaking her fingers. Or the whole day he had once spent showing her how to get more snap into her monkey-eats-lotus-flower strike. But now he was teaching her the secret of the technique behind the hand job that had so rocked her lover's world, so that she could perhaps emulate a small fraction of what she had seen Master Fujiwara do earlier. Then suddenly, the thwack of bamboo falling told them both that time was up.
Master Fujiwara had sighed, whistfully but happily, stood up, stretched lazily, and then vaulted athletically out of the tub, waking Tori. Landing softly, he picked up a boult of cloth and vigorously and briskly dried himself, then deftly collected the clothing he wished to be buried in and placed it in a neat pile beside him, before assuming a seated position on the tatame mat that he would expect to be laid out on.
His last words were "I hope you'll be very happy together. As happy as you've made me!". Then he had willed himself back into his 89 year old shell, the Cuff of Sosumiha falling to the floor beside him. He turned to one side, perhaps intending to dress himself in the burial clothes he had laid out. At that moment, his body gave out, and he clutched his chest. He turned back to look at his two students, and a smile spread across his face. Then he fell backwards. A few minutes later, he was dead.
Still smiling.
Myoto also smiled, as she rolled back against Tori's warmth and slipped back to sleep.
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Tori & Myoti Itoh shared the roll of sensei to the Yamanouchi monastery; the first post-mystical-monkey-power sensei. It is thanks to their wisdom and dedication that the monastery survived and even prospered. For the next century, initiates from Yamanouchi still regularly made the long trek to the village to maintain one grave, as per Sato Fujiwara's last request; the grave of the head man of the village of Sosumiha, slain by bandits while protecting Master Toshimiru and his men from certain slaughter.
A man called "Nori Yamanouchi".
The bandits never did return to Sosumiha, so effective had the Guardian's last stand been. In the end, just after the turn of the 6^th century, an earthquake buried the village under a hundred feet of mud, where it lay undisturbed for another 1500 years.
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Enter the Naked Mole Rat