Work Text:
Jinshi had figured out early on that the way to gain Maomao's interest was with puzzles, strange ingredients, or poisons. He didn't approve of her testing poisons on herself, but he grudgingly accepted that he couldn't actually stop her from being fascinated with them. And when word got around the court and beyond that he was seeking strange medicines and herbs and other unusual substances, and would pay good money for any that were particularly rare or valuable, people began bringing him things that they thought he might be interested in. He bought them as long as they weren't obvious frauds, in the hopes that one of them might be the thing that would finally win Maomao's heart.
His latest acquisition was something quite unusual. The merchant who had brought it to his attention claimed that it came from far to the south, where pearl divers had found it while seeking the rare gems under the sea. It was a strange pink seashell that, the merchant claimed, when ground into a powder and dissolved in wine, was a powerful stimulant for female desire. Part of him, a part he was not particularly proud of, was tempted not to tell Maomao what it was for, and see what happened when she inevitably tested it on herself. That seemed cruel, though, and so when he finally presented it to her, he described it just as the merchant had, giving a full account of its supposed properties.
Her response wasn't as enthusiastic as he'd hoped it might be. Instead she studied the item curiously, but without the overwhelming excitement that the fungus that grew on insects had provoked. "Why would it only work on women?" Maomao wondered, examining the shell's intricate curves, the delicate pink of its inner surface. "Men and women aren't that different."
Jinshi shrugged. "Maybe because women have more yin energy?" He had no real clue when it came to matters of medicine and biology, but he knew that much at least. It sounded plausible enough, anyway.
Maomao didn't look convinced. "I wonder what happens if a man consumes it, though." She looked from the shell to Jinshi and back again, and her face took on a nefarious expression. "I bet that it affects you just as much as me."
Trying to avoid showing obvious excitement, Jinshi just gave a casual nod. "Fine, it's a bet, apothecary. But let's try it together. It isn't fair if you go off and take it on your own and then just tell me it didn't affect you - we need to be able to see one another to compare the results properly."
Maomao acknowledged the general truth of that statement with a nod. "All right. Let's try it. But we need to go somewhere private, and you need to make sure Gaoshun and Suiren don't come wandering in while we're doing our experiment. They might not understand."
Privately, Jinshi guessed that Gaoshun, at least, would understand what was going on perfectly, but he agreed and took Maomao to his private rooms, where he barred the door so no one could get in. Maomao took one last wistful look at the shell - it really was quite beautiful - and then began the process of vigorously pulverizing it into a fine powder with her mortar and pestle, which she somehow always seemed to have with her when she needed it. Once she had done so, Jinshi produced a bottle of rice wine and poured each of them a cup. Maomao tipped half of the pink powder into her cup, and half into his - he watched closely to make sure she wasn't giving him more, just in case.
"You have to drink all of it," Maomao told him firmly, raising the cup toward her lips. "I'll do the same thing."
Jinshi nodded. He wasn't entirely sure what he hoped was going to happen here - he supposed even if the powdered seashell turned out to be worthless, at least they were sharing a drink together. Maomao enjoyed drinking, he had noticed, and maybe he could talk her into a few more cups. And then what? He wasn't planning to get her drunk and take advantage of her, but if they were both intoxicated and one thing led to another, surely he couldn't be blamed for that, could he? Admittedly he was older than her, and theoretically more responsible, but sometimes things just happened when you were drunk, didn't they? He raised his cup, noticing a shimmering sheen on the surface of the wine, took a deep breath and then tossed it back in one swallow. Maomao did the same, and both of them put their cups down to prove that they'd finished every drop.
Then they waited. Jinshi hadn't thought to ask the merchant how long it was supposed to take for the drug to take effect. Maomao seemed to be monitoring her own physical condition, occasionally taking her pulse or checking her reflexes. Jinshi felt warm, sweat beginning to rise on the back of his neck, and wondered if that was a sign that something was starting to happen, or just a natural result of sitting in a private room with the door closed with Maomao.
"Are you feeling anything yet?" Maomao asked, coming to stare into his face with uncomfortable intensity.
"Just a bit warm," Jinshi replied, smiling out of instinct. Maomao was really very close, gazing up at him with a curious look, and he thought to himself that he could kiss her right now. He could just take her in his arms and kiss her and then surely she would understand how he felt. The idea made him feel warmer still, and he suspected his face was growing red.
Maomao's eyes narrowed and she said, "Hmm. Interesting." Jinshi thought he saw her tongue dart out momentarily to moisten her lips. Then she sat back on her heels, fiddling with the sleeve of her gown, as though it suddenly held some unknown fascination for her. Jinshi had to look away too. His heart was racing and he was sure now that the warmth he was feeling wasn't just due to the still air in the room. He found his hand going to his robe's collar to try and loosen it a little.
"What about you?" he demanded, trying to ignore the urges he was feeling.
"Warm, like you said," Maomao acknowledged. "A bit of a tingling sensation in my hands and feet." She held her hands out, fingers spread, as if showing them to Jinshi would convey the feeling. Jinshi took her hands in his, and she didn't pull them away. They were hard, hot little hands, not soft or delicate, but so small that he could enclose them in his own. They were covered in scars, little nicks and burns and fresher injuries too, from the hard work she often did with them as well as the poisons she tested on herself. Jinshi brought them up to his lips and kissed them, only wondering after he did it whether it was a good idea or not. Maomao still didn't yank them away, but allowed him to continue to explore them, kissing each fingertip, sliding her sleeves up so he could touch her wrists, feeling the pulse that fluttered there. She seemed bemused but tolerant as Jinshi continued to examine her hands. He thought that if this was all he ever got to touch of her, that would be all right. He could be satisfied with the press of her callused fingers to his lips.
That thought gave him pause. He would have expected that by now his cock might be stirring, if this had been a normal situation. Sitting close with Maomao and kissing her hands - he could have been stiff as an iron rod by this point. But his jade stalk remained soft, although he sensed an ache in his balls that was rather distracting. A fleeting panicked thought rose in his mind - maybe Gaoshun was right and the medicine he'd been taking to present himself as a eunuch was making him impotent. Or maybe it was something to do with the drug he'd taken just now, or some unusual interaction between the two. It wasn't as if he could tell Maomao, though. His mouth felt dry and he struggled to compose himself. Would Maomao be upset if he couldn't get hard? Would she even care? He told himself it was ridiculous to get worried about it anyway - the chances that she would notice or have any interest in the state of his manhood were pathetically low.
He realized suddenly that Maomao was staring at him. He still had her fingers against his lips but had drifted off into his own thoughts for too long a pause. Jinshi chuckled nervously and put her hands down, still holding them but keeping them away from his mouth for now. Maomao frowned, looking annoyed, and he wondered if he'd done something inadvertent to offend her. Then she said, "Why are you so pretty?" - as if it was an affront to her personally that he dared to presume to appeal to her senses.
"I... don't know," Jinshi said, embarrassed. "It's not like I chose to be."
"When you were dressed as the moon fairy, it was completely unfair," she continued. "No woman could have competed with you, and you aren't even a girl." She looked thoughtful, and turned to look around his room. "Do you still have those robes?"
"Uh, yes," Jinshi said, uncertain where this was going. "They were a bit damaged by being soaked, but Suiren did a wonderful job with restoring them. They're over there," he continued, nodding in the direction of the chests where his ample wardrobe was stored.
Maomao jumped up and went rummaging through the chests until she came up with the moon fairy gown. It was filmy and delicate, with flowing sleeves and elegant ornamentation. "Get your clothes off and put this on," she told Jinshi firmly. He found himself obeying out of instinct - he wanted to do what she told him, wanted her to make him do... something, he wasn't sure what. Putting on a ladies' gown was easy enough if it made Maomao happy.
Still, he had enough decency to turn away as he undressed down to his underrobes. Maomao didn't protest, but when she came to help him get the elegant fairy gown on, he thought maybe her hands lingered on his back and shoulders more than was strictly necessary. "Apothecary..." he said hesitantly, but Maomao didn't respond, only continued to help him into the flowing, ornate robes.
"Turn around and kneel for me," she said at last. Jinshi did as instructed. Even when he was kneeling, she wasn't that much taller than him. She was so small, he thought, so pretty. As a finishing touch, she put the hair clasps and crown on him, decorating him with the silver jewelry that completed the illusion of the moon fairy. Then she stood, a little frown furrowing the bridge of her freckled nose.
"What is it?" Jinshi said at last. "Isn't it what you wanted, apothecary?"
There was a long pause. "It's what I wanted," Maomao said, her voice soft and almost confused. She reached out and brushed a stray strand of hair back from his face, and Jinshi wondered for a moment if she was going to kiss him, but she didn't. Instead she said, "You're so pretty, I just want to utterly ruin you." Then her hand flew to her mouth, as if she hadn't meant to say that out loud. Her cheeks were flushed and her eyes wide. "It's the drug taking effect, I shouldn't have said that, I apologize."
Jinshi's jaw dropped open and he couldn't do anything but nod in response. He had no idea what she meant by that, but he was eager to find out. "You don't need to apologize. Go ahead and ruin me," he agreed enthusiastically.
Maomao bit her lip. "You don't know what you're asking for. I won't... I won't be gentle."
"Tell me what you want me to do," Jinshi pleaded, putting his hands around her slim waist as he knelt before her in his fancy gown. "I'll do anything for you."
"I grew up with courtesans," Maomao warned him. "I know a lot of things they taught me, just in case I ever needed them. Even a eunuch can experience pleasure, you know - there are ways."
Jinshi's heart froze in his chest. He'd almost forgotten that he was still pretending to be a eunuch - that Maomao would be expecting him to be one. Fortunately she seemed to take his hesitation as embarrassment. "It's fine - I don't need you to do anything to me in return."
"What if I want to do things for you in return?" he demanded. "I have hands, don't I? I can use them to... to help you." He knew in general terms that was an option, at least, even if he'd never done it.
Maomao flushed so that even her ears were pink. "Don't worry about it."
Jinshi decided not to press that for the moment. Maybe if the drug worked as well as it had been promised, she'd come around eventually. "Please, just tell me what you want, then."
"Get on your bed, face down," she said. "I'll just get some things ready." Her tone was firm, brooking no objections, and Jinshi hurried to obey. He took a moment while she wasn't looking to adjust his manhood so that it was out of the way, though. It was still soft - in a way it might have been easier to conceal it if it was hard, but he would manage somehow, tucking his balls and cock out of sight as much as possible. His heart was thundering in his ears and he felt dizzy, as though the bed was spinning under him. He had no idea what was going to happen, but he wanted it more than he had ever wanted anything in his entire life.
Maomao approached, climbing onto the bed behind him, pushing his elaborate robes out of the way so that she could kneel between his legs. Then she kept pushing them, and Jinshi felt the air against the bare skin of his backside. At first, Maomao just stroked the skin of his thighs, the backs of his knees, her fingers rough and almost clinical, as if seeing what kind of reactions she could provoke in him. Jinshi buried his face against his pillow, hoping he wasn't about to completely embarrass himself, but somehow not minding if he did - he didn't think Maomao would mind either. He had never realized until now that the backs of his knees were so exquisitely sensitive.
When she finally touched his ass, he yelped in surprise, and Maomao giggled. "Lift yourself up a little further," she told him. Jinshi did, managing to get a hand under himself as he did so to keep his cock and balls out of view. He didn't think she noticed, or if she did, she didn't say anything. Instead she just stroked his ass, the smooth skin of each half-moon, the curve of the creases beneath, the soft inner thighs. Jinshi shivered when she finally touched the cleft of his ass, tracing a finger around the tight ring of muscle there. Then to his shock, he felt a whisper of breath against his ass, and Maomao's tongue was on him. Her tongue! On his ass! He could have died then and there and been perfectly content with the way his life had turned out, he thought.
She continued licking him, slow swirling strokes that seemed designed to drive him insane. His cock was still soft, but he became aware that it was leaking. He wondered absently if he could come this way, or if it would just be eternal torment. He was fine either way, he decided. Maomao had promised to ruin him, and that was wonderful. She could keep on licking him for as long as she wanted. Her sharp little tongue prodded at his hole and he gasped. He was sure he was going to make a mess of the inner robe he was wearing, but he couldn't care less about that right now. He realized he was moaning out loud and couldn't be bothered to stop.
When Maomao stopped, he gave a whine of protest, and she laughed again. "So needy," she said, her voice playful and light. Jinshi's breath came in short, shallow gasps - he had no idea what he needed, but she was right, he was needy for something. For her, definitely, but something beyond that too, something he couldn't put into words. For her to take control of him, be a little bit mean to him, tease him, and give him what he didn't know he wanted.
"I'm going to fill your hole now," Maomao told him, and he whimpered in response. "If it's too much, tell me." Surely it would just be her fingers, he thought - they were so slender, it seemed unlikely they could possibly be too much. But he nodded anyway.
Then he felt the rounded, smooth head of something cool, made of stone, and realized what it was. The pestle. It was thickest at the end, not gently tapered, and it was blunt as she began to ease it into him. She'd put something on it, he thought, but wasn't sure what - it was slick, just enough to make it slide inside him. He cried out, his legs trembling, and Maomao paused, which was somehow worse. "Keep going!" he begged, and so she slid it inside him the rest of the way, keeping a tight grip on its base.
It felt huge and heavy inside him, like a lead weight in his gut, and Jinshi's cock was leaking so copiously he wasn't sure he could hide it anymore, but he didn't care. His body jerked and spasmed, and Maomao put a hand on his hip to steady him. "Stop flailing, I don't actually want to hurt you," she told him, so he did his best to keep still, but it was difficult. His hips rocked without thought, and Maomao slid the pestle halfway out of him, before pushing it deep again. It felt incredible - the further out she pulled it, the more Jinshi was stretched, and the better it felt when she finally slid it back in. "That's good," she told him. "Let me keep fucking you like this."
Jinshi lost the ability to speak or even form concrete thoughts. All that mattered now was the push and pull of Maomao's tool in his ass, the brisk and efficient way she worked it, the occasional gentle touch or murmur of approval that she bestowed on him when he took it particularly well. He wanted to stroke himself, even soft, but he couldn't. He felt a pressure building but couldn't release it, couldn't bring himself all the way off the way he wanted to. His balls ached and his cock leaked, but no more. He thought it was very possible he might just die like this.
Finally, Maomao slid the heavy stone pestle out of him with a slow stroke, leaving him empty. Jinshi cried out, but it was swiftly replaced with her fingers. And they felt so good he almost wept, so warm and nimble as they delved into his utterly wrecked hole, pressing and kneading a spot inside him that made him see stars. He shuddered then, an orgasm of a kind, not what he craved so desperately, but some measure of release at least. He didn't feel the relief that ought to follow it though, only a continued need.
"You need it again?" Maomao's voice was gentle but teasing.
"MHnhhnmm," Jinshi managed to garble out, and then, to his shock and astonishment, she pushed her entire hand inside him. His vision blacked out for a moment, and he came again, making a sopping ruin of his inner robes. It never seemed to be enough, never quite reached the pinnacle he was expecting, but it was more intense than anything he'd ever experienced, coming again and again on Maomao's hand.
Finally, after some infinite length of time had passed, she drew out of him and Jinshi collapsed to the bed, his body alive with tremors and twitches, overheated, overstimulated, and spent. His hair was a mess, the fairy's crown slid off somewhere along the way and lying on the mattress, his robes were a nightmare he didn't want to think about how he would explain to Suiren, and he felt like if he tried to move, he would simply fall to the floor in a heap. Maomao seemed pleased, in an academic sort of way, with the effect she'd provoked in him, and hummed to herself as she washed her hands at the basin.
"There," she said at last. "I think that proves that medicine has at least as much of an effect on men as on women."
"You... what about you?" Jinshi managed to ask, panting for breath, pushing himself up onto one arm to try and look her in the face.
"I enjoyed myself too," she assured him, turning away so that he couldn't see her expression clearly. "Don't worry about that. And... don't tell anyone about this. I promise I won't say anything either. I'll leave you to clean yourself up." Then she hurried out of the room, leaving Jinshi there to try and somehow put himself back together. She was right, he thought - she had ruined him for anyone else.