On request by RealityWarper.

This is the best Jinko fanfic I have ever seen. Please make one about a guy trapped in the Jinko Jungle where he is forced to be the husband of multiple Jinkos.

No, the femdom story is alright. In fact given how Jinkos are also martial artists on top of their incredible strenght, it would be kinda hot if the guy tries to resist and they rough him up until he stops resisting, then he tries to escape after the rapings, but they just rough him up and take him back. He gets tired of getting his ass kicked everytime he tries to escape, so he decides the only way he is getting back to civilization is to win them over by becoming a good house husband and worshipping their muscles so he can convince them to go on a "honey moon" with him at the city which he plans to use to escape.

Thanks! I had in mind that he initially escapes in the "honeymoon" but goes back to them and allows himself to be recaptured as he realize he misses them and fell in love with them. But your idea is interesting too. Either is fine.

Fetishes: rape, femdom, facesitting, fighting, muscle worship

Tags: monster girl, jinko, monster girl encyclopedia, third-person

Akira shielded his eyes from the bright sunlight, his steady walk through the forest carrying him closer to his destination. The small axe at his belt bounced, it’s distinctive click click click against the belt beating a steady rhythm with his pace.

Cutting firewood was a daily chore, and couldn’t be shirked at all. It needed strong arms, legs, balance, and no fear of heights. Akira had two out of the four, and it had served him well enough.

Strength might not have been his forte, but Akira knew how to battle most people who thought he was a pushover. He was perfectly adept at fighting with weapons. The last group of bandits who cornered him and attempted to beat the shit out of him to get all his money. Akira knocked each and every one of them out with some skilful footwork and axe swinging, slamming the blunt end on their pates and threatening the last one with the sharp end until he agreed to hand over the group’s cash, and each and every one of their hidey-holes. Akira had gone to each and every one of them and dug up all the gold they had, selling it for a vast fortune. He didn’t want anyone to know about his newfound wealth, though, so he didn’t make any changes in his lifestyle or appearance. He stayed exactly as he was, working and chopping wood for a living and to keep himself alive, warm and fed.

It did let ennui set in, but survival was the priority. Akira couldn’t let the routine falter no matter what if he had to survive. It was survival of the skilled now.

He walked over to a suitable tree, ironically humming an Earth Day song. A slight scuffle made him spin around and hoist his bigger axe, about two feet long with a head made of manganese steel. The kind used in railways tracks. He saw nothing.

He gave a puzzled frown. It sounded like an animal’s paws scuffling along the dirt – but there was nothing. No sign of stripes or spots disappearing. Whoever it was, it was a crafty predator. It could hide at a moment’s notice.

‘Come out, come out, wherever you are,’ he murmured, lifting the axe and swinging it in a circle around his head. The motion looked like a video game character performing it, a bit like Rachel in Ninja Garden, but Akira had learned to spin around with the move twice or thrice, making it far more effective and deadly than any pixelated character. He hadn’t seen it in a video game, of course, never having owned a computer or knowing what it was, but having to learn survival skills meant a lot more improvisation, and less sticking to established rules. He would fight in a very free-form, flexible manner, never sticking to one attack or defence pattern. If he struck with the blade, he might defend with the handle, and then drive it into his opponent’s solar plexus, winding them. It was quite impossible to figure out his moves before he would strike a blow to your ear and discombobulate you, leaving you with cauliflower ear and a strange ringing which lasted for days.

There was no response. No other voice spoke up, and no one else moved or shuffled. Akira stared around, trying to check for camouflaged predators. No one around. Well, anyway, of course he couldn’t keep waiting for someone to show up. He walked back to the tree and reached a hand up, gripping the trunk. He had to get started with his quota of wood for the day.

Akira swung himself up onto the tree, his fingers gripping the branches and lifting himself up. He grabbed the trunk and balanced himself, and then went up another branch, He continued on this way, climbing about halfway up the tree, using each branch as a supporting limb. When he reached there, he heaved the bigger axe in his hands. He swung it downwards, and in one clean blow, a part of the branch he intended to use as firewood flew to the ground below.

There was a slight scuffling noise again as the branch thudded to the ground. Akira’s sharp ears caught it, and he immediately whipped his head around, searching for the noisemaker. No one. There wasn’t even a sign of a paw or a damn face. What was going on?

Akira gave up trying to figure out the mystery of the sounds and looked around for the next branch. He spotted one two branches higher up. Clambering up the branches to the one he wanted, he grabbed it and hauled himself up. He raised his axe and swiped it through the branch, sending it and a pile of leaves below. The branch hit the ground, throwing up some dust and sending a layer over the leaves fluttering to the ground.

Akira reached up to a branch which was within reach of the one he was standing on, and cut the whole of it off in one smooth motion. As it flew to the ground as well, he prepared to go back to terra firm. He looked down, checked his balance and let himself drop to a limb of the tree parallel to the one he had jumped off from, then leaped from it directly to the ground, spreading the force of his fall with a roll and coming up on his feet in a squat. He stood up and brushed his clothes of dust and lint, and then lifted his axe over his shoulder. He began to walk to the fallen branches.

No point wasting time clambering down a tree when you had acrobatic skills and were lightweight enough.

Akira reached the chopped limbs of the tree and inspected them. One was the right length, the other had become longer than what was required, and one shorter. Well, at least it balanced itself out. Good. He gathered the branches in his arms, and turned around to begin walking back home.

He walked through the forest, finding the straightest and shortest path home. He knew a few hundred ways to get back, all with varying times, but it was important to go back home in the shortest possible time that day.

He was pretty sure he was being watched. The sensation of eyes near him and an unknown being stalking him remained. He couldn’t shake it off. They appeared to be able to keep up with his not insubstantial pace. But no matter how many times he paused and checked his surroundings, he couldn’t see one goddamned thing. This irritated him more than anything. He believed he knew the forest better than anyone since he had been going in there to collect wood, fruits and medicines since he was ten, and yet he couldn’t sniff out the location of one little stalker animal.

Akira reached the fork in the road which led to his home. He walked along it, looking out for any strange or suspicious activity. There was none. He was quite sure they hadn’t lost track of him though, he could still feel eyes watching him. It didn’t make sense. Maybe he was getting the jitters, but surely his guts were correct. They’d never alarmed him so much before.

Akira reached the path to his home and starting walking purposefully to the door. He gazed around the bushes and trees nearby, scrutinising them for any potential threats. Everything seemed to be turning up blanks, though. He didn’t get it, and it was seriously starting to bug him.

He put his key inside the keyhole of the door, and turned it. The door creaked open, and a thud sounded from somewhere behind him.

Akira instantly slammed the door closed, turned the key, shoved it in his pocket, and whipped around with his larger axe in hand. All done in the blink of an eye. Living alone and having a fear of being attacked does sharpen your reflexes. Ten years of remaining under fear of attack does an even better job.

He gaped at the sight in front of him.

A six-foot tall woman was standing behind him. But she wasn’t the classic woman, having an overactive pituitary gland. She had a tiger’s paws for hands and feet, striped and marked. They extended all the way up to her elbows, her upper arms and shoulders having soft human skin, but bulging with muscle like a female bodybuilder. Her tiger’s feet extended up to the middle of her upper thighs, which looked sinewy and powerful. The main focus of his gaze was her abs. No woman, or even most men, at least the human ones, had such clearly marked and defined abs as she did. They looked harder than steel, and yet there was something about them which was so sexy he couldn’t move his gaze to the rest of her. They somehow suited her. No human, even a male, could look that confident with those kind of rip-roaring muscles sticking out of their stomachs. Or hot.

He saw something waving around behind her, and realised it was her tail. The same kind of striped tail a tiger would have. It was waving around in excitement. She had a tiny strip of cloth barely covering her breasts, which were easily in the F-cup range. A female bodybuilder generally developed pecs like a man, but this one didn’t. They were perfectly perky and womanly, without showing a sign of sagging or drooping.

The jinko purred and walked over to him, her wide hips swaying and shaking like hazelnuts on a tree in the wind; just with more rhythm. He recalled their name from when someone had mentioned that some strange anthropomorphic creatures who were coming in from the Chief God knows where and overrunning all the villages and capturing all the men. He called them ‘monster girls’, whoever they were. Well, at least he knew what one looked like.

Akira raised his axe and prepared to battle. The jinko merely grinned, and he felt several shadows pass over his head and several thuds on the ground. More jinkos appeared, all very similar to the first, landing on the ground in a martial artist’s position with their bodies hunched over, fists touching the ground.

One of the jinkos, standing a foot taller than the others, stepped forward. There were perhaps twelve of them, and they were between six to six and a half feet tall. This was was easily over seven feet. She loomed over Akira’s (comparatively) tiny figure, standing at five foot eight, hands on hips.

‘Do you really believe fighting us is the answer to this?’ she spoke up, her voice deep, rich, and sultry. It washed over Akira, making him give her the dazed, mesmerised look of a teenager in love.

‘W-What?’ he moaned, his eyes fixated on her body. She was built like a tank. Her biceps and thighs were bigger and thicker than any woman, or even man, he’d seen. All the jinkos had abs, at least a six-pack. This one had an eight-pack carved out of marble, each distinctive muscle of her abs as prominent as writing on paper. The ridges and depression in her muscles were deep enough to make his mouth water. Akira had once watched a group of muscular women in the village washing themselves in the river by accident one day, since he took the path home which went by the river one morning. The sight of all those muscular arms, legs, biceps, abs, and thick, large buttocks glistening with water and foam had given him wet dreams for almost a year afterwards.

‘We’re jinkos, as you’ve guessed. I can tell from the look in your eyes,’ said the lead jinko. ‘We’ve got no problem with you checking us out, but I’m afraid –’ her face took on a much more seductive, needy look – ‘we’re here to claim you after observing you for months so you can’t look at anyone but us. We believe you’re the kind of man we need for siring our next cubs. What do you think?’

Akira blinked. This had to be a joke. Someone else from the village could’ve given these women stilts or very high heels and told them to tempt him into believing he’d have sex with them. Then when they reached a common meeting point, they’d laugh at him for believing he had any chance. He was used to being the target of harmless pranks from the village since he lived alone, but ever since the village chief’s daughter had pretended to show interest in him for a day or two and then said she simply wanted her father to think that she was looking for a man. He had wanted her to produce heirs for the next lineage of chiefs, since leading the village was hereditary and no elections took place. Since then, he’d lost any trust he had for the village members or heads.

‘This is a joke, right?’ he said. ‘Someone else sent you to play mind games with me. You can take off those damn costumes and high heels now. In the name of the Chief God, you lot have played enough tricks with me. Show me your real selves.’

The lead jinko stepped forward until she was looming right over him, her enormous breasts in his face. She easily had an H-cup, and the measurements around her breasts and waist would be around one and half times more than her subordinates. With her appearance, no one else could be the leader. He swallowed hard and tried to back away, but her paw shot out and grabbed his shoulder, keeping him in place. She leaned forward and licked his face with a rough, cat-like tongue. He gave an involuntary shudder, turning his face away and trying to step back – but his body couldn’t move because of the powerful paw gripping his shoulder.

‘You believe we’re messing with you, do you?’ sighed the jinko. ‘Well, here’s a tip.’

She took Akira’s free hand, laying it on her paw. His hand squeezed it, feeling the soft fur and toned muscles on her lower arm. It didn’t feel attached at all. He tried pulling her skin and fur towards himself to check if they were part of a cosplay. The lead jinko hissed and tried to move her paw, but his hands finally found part of the bare human skin which he was thinking about. He started rubbing it absent-mindedly, wondering what kind of a nonhuman entity could be so smoothly joined together in this half-woman, half-human hybrid.

Even stranger, he realised that it wasn’t a trick. Those furry gauntlets should have come off with one pull, but they felt natural and attached. How could anyone be a crossbeed and survive without creating mutant species which would die out soon? He would need to ask them.

‘Also’,.. said the jinko, ‘No human girl can do this.’

She raised her paw, and clenched it into a fist. She slammed her paw down on the earth, sending a huge cloud of dust up into the air, and leaving a mini-crater where her fist hit. Akira stared at it in amazement and looked up at the jinko, a mixture of fear and arousal on his face. Strong women had always turned him on, and now this one could make craters in the ground from her fists. This woman surely wasn’t human. No human could make a crater like that in the ground with their fists, not even a martial artist. She was out of this world.

But that didn’t mean he was going down (on her, or to her) without a fight.

‘I’ll be damned if I’ll let you take me that easily,’ he said, trying to sound cool and detached, though his voice shook a little. He’d never seen anyone like this. Such grace, skill and strength wrapped up into one striped package. He even harboured thoughts of being defeated in a wrestling competition by her and perhaps dragged backstage – but no. He couldn’t just stand around and allow that, he had a life to live which didn’t involve pandering to others.

The lead jinko sighed and stood up, brushing the dirt from her paws and knees. She stepped back and took a fighting pose. ‘Whenever you’re ready, dear.’

‘Don’t call me that!’ Akira moved his left foot backwards, bending his knees and getting into his own fighting stance, based on the few martial arts movies he had seen at a friend’s house. He had no chance of getting a TV or even a computer with no support and having to survive hand to mouth. But watching billboards and a few moves might be a benefit.

The jinko raised her paws in front of her chest. ‘Ready.’

Akira sprung into action, charging forwards and swinging his axe at the jinko. The axe met air as she sidestepped. She took position behind him, an amused gaze on her face. He couldn’t believe it. His speed generally took down an opponent with a crack to the skull, even though it didn’t have much force, but this hybrid woman moved too quickly. If he was lightning, she was greased lightning.

Akira ran at her with a yell, swinging his axe downwards with the intention of slicing her in half. The jinko simply spun around, though, getting behind him, and kicked him in the back. He flew forward, landing in the dust with the axe under him.

Unbelievable. She was a lot quicker than his eye could follow. Maybe he needed to change tactics.

Akira stood up, dusting himself off, and tossed his axe from hand to hand. He walked forward and began circling the white jinko, looking for an opening or weak spot. She, however, didn’t seem to care. She kept her arms folded and eyes on him, turning around on those foot-paws slowly to keep her face towards him, but without any signs of strain or stress. She already seemed to know she was in charge of the fight. Akira would have to catch her off-guard or take another hundred years becoming her equal. The choice was obvious.

Akira kept circling the jinko, looking left and right for options. If she could see him, he had no chance – but if he could strike her from behind after a distraction, it might actually work. He faked a swing with the axe, and the jinko flinched very slightly – just enough for him to notice. Good. That meant he could use the plan he had.

Akira circled her two more times, until the other jinkos got tired and began chanting, ‘Fight! Fight! Fight! Bring the human down to earth and rape him! Show him who’s the domme!’

The lead jinko rolled her eyes as inconspicuously as she could, but ignored them. It didn’t seem she wanted to attack first. He would have to take the lead, it seemed. That was okay, as long as she went down and he was left in peace again.

Akira raised the hammer again and ran at her from one end of the circle the other jinkos had formed around him, to where she was standing in the middle. She smirked confidently and tensed her paws and biceps, preparing to avoid him again, when he unexpectedly tossed the axe at her.

The jinko’s eyes widened in surprise. Her speed worked in her favour, though, and she leaned to the side, letting it fly past her. One of the other jinkos caught it and held it fast.

The jinko turned back to Akira, smirking, only to see another, smaller axe descending towards her head. She snarled and whipped her forearm in front of her, blocking the blow by stopping the axe at the handle. She grabbed it and held on to it, stopping him from moving it further down. Akira struggled, his lean frame straining against her muscles, trying to push her back. They pushed at each other, not giving way for a moment or two, and then the lead jinko ripped the axe from his hands and tosses it to one of her subordinates. As she did, Akira chose to grab the moment and started punching her with vertical fists like in wing chun. He hit her with rotating fists to her abs, moving around her body and circling to her back, slamming his fists into what he hoped were sensitive parts of her body. He punched her repeatedly in the spine, moved to her other side with rotating fists, and then came back to her front, hitting her twice in one breast. He finished with a roundhouse kick to her neck.

Panting, Akira bent over and held his knees, his face shining with sweat. He wasn’t as strong as a jinko, but multiple hits had a way of winding people. He waited for the jinko to collapse.

It was not forthcoming.

Akira felt a strong paw grab his face, lifting it up. He received a punch to the solar plexus, making him fly back into one of the jinko’s hard bodies. The jinko who had caught him giggled, grabbing him and holding him close to her muscular frame, nuzzling her face into his neck and licking it. She unashamedly groped him, feeling his slender body with those big-ass paws. She groped his butt, squeezing and lifting his buns in both paws as if weighing them, even spanking them a little. She ran those paws over his tiny chest, rubbing and squeezing his nipples through his shirt. After rubbing his shoulders and leaving a few kisses across his face, she murmured, ‘So cute and vulnerable,’ as she shoved him back towards their leader.

The lead jinko gave Akira an indifferent, almost cold gaze, giving him the shivers. She bent her knees, raised her paws, and beckoned him closer.


Akira gulped. He knew he was outmatched in a direct confrontation. He would simply need to rely on speed and agility to win this. He clenched his fists and stepped forward, ready for the confrontation.

The jinko sprang into action first, swinging a paw towards his head. Akira ducked and grabbed her by the waist. He swung himself around to get behind her, and then leaped up on her back, holding her with his knees. He started punching her in the back of the head repeatedly, even targeting her neck and ears.

The jinko growled and struggled to shake him off, leaning backwards and pushing at his arms with her elbows. He clung to her waist tighter with his thighs and grabbed her by the neck, starting to squeeze with all his strength. The jinko growled more, though she now sounded like she was choking a little. Akira had grabbed her Adam’s apple and was trying to mash it between in fingers. The other jinkos had stopped chanting and were staring at the fight in a mixture of horror and amazement. Some of them stepped forward to help their leader, but she snarled and waved a paw at them, telling them to stay back. She strained her neck muscles to make them tighter, and Akira partially lost his grip on her throat. She threw her head backwards, hitting Akira’s forehead. Disorientated, Akira lost his grip and balance, letting go of the jinko’s waist with his knees and dropping to the ground. Before he could regain his footing, a foot-paw swung around and slammed into his abdomen, sending him several feet away and knocking down five or six jinkos in the circle surrounding them.

Akira groaned as he lay on the ground. That fucking hurt. Even though it felt like a controlled blow and hadn’t broken anything, he was winded and struggling to get his bearings. The jinkos stood up and brushed their furry thighs off, shoving him back into the fray. The lead jinko charged at him and started a series of swift, brutal attacks, swinging her paws at him like windmills. He dodged and blocked some of them, but the force of the blows started numbing his arms. He got in a few punches as well and kicked the inside of her knees a few times, but the speed at which she moved didn’t give him many openings to attack. He was unable to defend himself properly as well, the ferocity of her strikes were numbing his arms even more and making him rather nauseous.

Akira ducked under another strike from her paw, and then kicked her in the back. It had absolutely no effect; the jinko was actually quite pissed by now and furious she hadn’t been able to take him down fifteen minutes ago. She whipped her elbow back and caught him in the ribs. Akira doubled over in pain, holding his sides. That really hurt. He swung around and lashed out with his foot in a backwards lunge kick, but before it even connected, he felt her own foot block it from knee level. He staggered, his balance gone, and tried to hop around to regain it as he grabbed his aching foot. The jinko, however, didn’t give him a chance. She twisted her body around, extending her right foot to give him a roundhouse kick to the forehead, and then spun herself around to extend her left paw into a spinning backfist to the chest. He doubled over instantly at the point of contact, and the force of the kick sent him crashing backwards into the other jinkos. Five or six of them tumbled to the ground along with him. He landed on one’s breasts, his back pressing down against them. They did feel like soft and squishy pillows, cushioning his fall, but his chest still hurt like hell. He placed his palms on the ground, struggling to lift himself up, but a foot-paw slammed down on his chest again and held him down. He groaned in pain, feeling his ribs and sternum bending. He pressed his hands harder against the ground, struggling to stand up. He strained his muscles and clenched his teeth, struggling to throw her off balance. She, however, simply leaned forward, pressing down as hard as she could with her foot, and placed her paws on her knee. With crushing force, she drive her foot down on his solar plexus and made him collapse against the jinko under him. He gasped, the air driven out of him, and went limp. The jinko under him shoved him aside, and he rolled over on his face. She leaped out from under him, letting him drop to the ground, and he lay there limply, gasping for air.

‘Admit defeat,’ said the lead jinko, strolling over to him and looming over him. Her huge breasts jiggled as she stood over him with her hands on hips.

Akira groaned. ‘As if.’

The lead jinko raised her foot over his chest. ‘Are you sure?’

Akira nodded.

The jinko sighed, and lowered her foot. She leaned down and grabbed him by the neck, raising him into the air. She held him up with one paw, compressing his throat a little, just enough to make him choke. Akira felt his air being cut off, and gasped in pain. He started kicking futilely in the air, trying to connect his foot with her abs or throat, but her arms were far too long and could easily keep him out of reach. He started coughing, trying to breathe, but her paws were firm. He could take in just enough breaths from his nose – probably not enough to leave him conscious though. He felt his spirit admitting defeat, although it was the last thing he felt like doing.

‘Do you surrender now?’ asked the lead jinko, grabbing him under the arms and pulling him closer. She held him in a bear hug. He was still barely able to breathe, although better than when she was choking him. He felt his bones creaking and pleading for mercy though. If he didn’t surrender, she’d slowly squeeze the life out of him or torture him like this for weeks until he gave in. He couldn’t take this. He didn’t want to.

‘I ... suhrendah ...’ he gasped.

‘What was that, dear?’ said the jinko leader. She probably knew exactly what he’d said, but just wanted to play with him. She wanted his surrender more than anything else, even this fight.

Akira took a deep breath, feeling his compressed ribs and lungs protesting at the extra air he was taking in. He groaned. This woman would literally kill him with all the pressure, both mental and the one exercised on his lungs. He coughed and screwed up his will.

‘I SURRENDER!’ he yelled, unable to bear the pain of being crushed like a car in a car compactor. ‘I surrender, I’m sorry I even thought of fighting you, please let me go! I’ll do anything!’

The jinko smirked. ‘Anything?’


The jinko dropped him to the ground. Akira curled up in the foetal position and rocked back and forth, moaning in pain. He wasn’t about to get any respite, though, because the jinko’s leader placed her foot on his knee and turned him over on his back. She reached up behind her and unhooked her bra, her enormous tits bouncing free. She leaned down and placed a paw on his middle, an evil grin filling her face. Her bra fluttered to the ground. He could make out the outlines of all the other jinkos discarding their clothes as well.

‘You’ll have to satisfy each and every one of us, little one,’ grinned the lead jinko. ‘That should make up for your resistance the first time. What do you say? And jinkos don’t do single orgasms. Just thought you ought to know.’

‘W-what?’ sputtered Akira. ‘You surely can’t assume I’m some kind of sex toy to be used for your –’

Adult content redacted.

Continue reading on:-

Harems Can Be A Pain – Archive of Our Own

Harems Can Be A Pain – Literotica

Harems Can Be A Pain – Pastebin

--SPARTAN-047 (talk) 22:03, May 8, 2017 (UTC)