Seleroan
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[Edited] Ch. 50
🕑 Added 2024-01-10 23:31:01 +0000 UTCSorry for the rerelease. It turns out the chapter with no notes was sent in error, so I had to rework it.
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Predictably, all our tailor ‘friend’ wanted was the opportunity to get some sleep. It was a request that was difficult to say no to. To be sure, it was an imposition, and he was a condescending asshole.
But…
It was hard not to feel sorry for the guy. By my count, I had been swallowed about four days ago, which meant he had been more-or-less constantly at work for a minimum of five. What the Dungeon wanted with a bunch of knitted underclothes was beyond me, but forcing people to work for days on end without sleep was unsustainable torture.
Which might have been the point. The tailor had said there was some task he was meant to complete. From that, I could infer that this was not some inescapable, slave-labor camp. It was meant to be a challenge.
One he had been about to fail, but a challenge nonetheless.
However, the Dolilim had zero fucks to give about any of that. Any interest they might have had for the man’s difficulties were in terms of how much they—and by extension, I—could benefit from them. The words had scarcely left the man’s mouth than they had descended, seeking to draw out every ounce of profit from the situation that they possibly could. They took turns cajoling and flirting, haranguing and brow-beating until he was on the verge of tears.
Equally disconcerting was the difference I could see in Arx since the last time we had been in this situation. Back then, Jax had handled the haggling all on her own, with Arx mostly on the sidelines. She had not much cared what outcome was arrived at.
Now, they were peas in a pod. Partners in crime. If anything, Arx was more vicious in her dealings, with Jax having to occasionally rein her in.
I was not entirely sure how to account for the change, either. Perhaps it was the extra time spent in her new skin, creating a distance from her old life. Or there could have been a correlation between this behavior and her recent transition from Loyalty to Devotion.
Either way, it was kind of disturbing to watch.
These two people—both of whom I loved dearly and who could scarcely bring themselves to aim a single criticism even vaguely in my direction—were treating a stranger as if he were little better than dirt. A thing to be used and discarded as the situation warranted.
It was a revelatory moment, especially in light of how they had been behaving with Lynnria. In their own words, she was something like a pet. They could love and cherish her. Even view her as a valuable companion. But she could never be quite on the same level as a person.
This man?
He was other. Chaff. Refuse. Unworthy of even a moment’s regard.
It was as if all the compassion and consideration a person might have for the whole of humanity had—for them—been gathered up and concentrated into a single individual.
Me.
They had little left for anyone else. Those peripheral to me could bask in my glow, perhaps. But that was it.
All of which they had attempted to explain. And more than once. However, it took seeing their moral outlook in action to really internalize and understand it for what it was.
Worse, I knew perfectly well that they could feel the tailor’s emotions, gain strength from them, and ultimately use them against him in this contest of wills. Which they had. Freely.
I might have even stepped in.
But…
Again. Kind of a dick.
And I certainly did not want to sit on my duff in this shop for hours, babysitting a guy while he tried to sleep. The second they did not have something actively occupying their attention, the Dolilim were going to be all over me—I knew—and that was going to go over like a brick through a stained-glass window. Especially, in light of how dear a price they were extracting in exchange for a few hours of sleep.
I knew I would be pissed if I had hired a bunch of mercenaries to protect me, and they ended up howling like a bunch of rutting banshees all night.
Ultimately, they agreed to four hours of rest in exchange for a complementary outfit for Lynnria—off the shelf, the man had been adamant that creating a fourth, skill-enhanced outfit was out-and-out extortion—and two silver pieces. Which does not sound like much, but even a single silver was worth something like four hundred bucks by my estimation.
The only thing we had to do was keep the timer running. That and…
I cleared my throat just as they were sealing the deal. “Alright. We’ll keep the timer going for four hours. You’ll have uninterrupted silence until then.”
Both of the Dolilim immediately swiveled around, shock and betrayal writ across their faces.
Uh huh… that’s what I thought. They had never intended to include silence as part of the bargain.
Jax narrowed her eyes. “Challenge accepted.”
Arx looked at her with a mix of horror and a large helping of doubt. “’Stits… you can’t be serious.”
“The Master set his standard,” she returned, standing tall—like a woman staring into the abyss. “Be up to us to see it through.”
The tailor eyed us uncertainly before expelling a puff of air from his… face holes. “I don’t know, and I don’t want to know. Four hours. I’ll be in the back. If you want your money or your clothes, you will see to it I remain unpoisoned.”
We waited while he took a slow, cautious step to one side. Then another. All the while, keeping a mistrustful eye trained on us.
We just silently returned his stare.
His mouth twitched. Once. Twice.
Several quick steps backward took him to the door, then he fumbled with the knob for a few seconds before making his escape.
There was a collective sigh.
“Finally. I thought he’d never leave,” Arx whispered. “So, how do you plan to do this? I doubt just stuffing some clothes in your mouth will—”
She froze, having caught sight of the item I was holding between my fingers, and Jax could not help but follow her gaze. Her eyes widened in immediate recognition.
Slowly, I began to wave the little green Gem back and forth, and they followed it as though entranced. Lips were licked. Hips began to shift. Hands clutched at thighs.
“Master,” Jax forced out eventually, as though I were casually playing with a live grenade. “What… exactly do ye think yer doing?”
I shrugged, innocent as could be. “Oh, you know. We have some downtime. Figured… might as well make use of it. Right?”
She firmed her jaw. “Arx, how strong a Gem be that?”
“Grand. Rank II.”
Jax swallowed. “Now, Master…”
I edged the Gem toward my mouth, and they both jumped.
“‘Snails, Dearest,” Arx tittered. “Be careful with that thing! There’s no way we can keep to the deal if you—!”
I began to slowly extend my tongue.
Jax stiffened then began to hastily sidestep. “He means to do it! Quick! Outside!”
With a malicious gleam in my eye, I stalked after them—Gem hovering inches from my tongue—while they fled. It was not until the door thumped closed after them that I relaxed.
Lynnria turned to me a moment later, having watched from the sidelines.
Understandably, what with the language barrier—and a general disinterest in communicating with a man who could not go three sentences without insulting us—she had become bored with the negotiations and busied herself with trying on some of the hats lying around. Her current selection was a rakish bycocket in a purple just a few shades lighter than her hair. It was a little small for her but, with a few hat-pins to secure it in place, she could pull it off.
“What… was that all about?” she asked uncertainly. “Should I leave, too?”
I suppressed a chuckle. “Nah, we were just playing around. You’re good.”
“I hope you were not actually intending to swallow that,” Mia put in. “Need I remind you how overtaxed your Core is? Even the smallest of Gems would put you in danger of rupture.”
I grunted with some consternation, having… not actually considered that. The Rank III Arx had shoved down my gullet as we were escaping from the maze had already over-leveled me by a fair margin.
You would have thought having a Core in such a state would give a person a sense of indigestion. Or something, if only to warn off imminent demise.
Tummy full! No eat more!
But no.
The only indication I had that something even might be amiss was the vague sense of tiredness that had recently come over me, but I had just run a half-marathon. Anyone would be fatigued after that.
I was just glad Mia was on the lookout for these types of mistakes.
However, not following through with my threat was going to present a problem. The Dolilim were easily startled, but they would soon be back. And in greater horniness.
“Am I able to slip into torpor, yet?” I asked.
“Yes. As of six minutes ago.”
I nodded. That did at least line up with the fatigue.
Turning, I began to search for a comfortable looking spot amongst the piles of cloth. “Good. Wisdom and Toughness this time. If you please?”
If a person could audibly roll their eyes, Mia was putting in a good showing. “Yes, yes. Far be it for me to recommend beneficial attribute distributions.”
“Beneficial to you, maybe.”
“Donum, are you seriously going into torpor? Now?” Lynnria hissed, scurrying forward.
I fluffed a poofy-looking overcoat into a makeshift pillow and laid down. “Best not to leave things to temptation,” I reasoned. “Send my apologies to my mates. And make sure you keep the timer running. Poison gas, you know?”
“Poison gas?! What—Donum!”
But it was too late. I was out.
*****
We stood on the cliffside, looking but not really seeing the waves as they swept up the naked escarpment.
I could sense something. Out there. Beyond the sea. Distant… yet not.
It was a strange feeling, whatever it was. Unfamiliar. There was no sense of it calling to me, nor did it feel particularly ominous. It was just… a something.
“But what?” we mused aloud.
No one replied.
Not that I could have expected an answer. Not all riddles had ready solutions.
We turned back to the campfire to warm our hands and sighed. It was peaceful here. A quiet, sleepy place. A person could build a home in this little clearing, away from everything.
The wind began to gently comb its fingers through our hair, and we shivered.
A bit blustery, perhaps. It was a good thing we were surrounded by all the trees, or even the fire would not have been enough. I had no idea why we had decided to march out into such a remote forest with nothing but a flimsy scrap of cloth for warmth.
Well… no. It was curiosity, plain and simple… though that did not explain why our clothes should matter. Or why they should help with cold…
I squeezed our eyes shut for just a moment, bewildered by our own line of reasoning. But the confusion faded before it had time to take root.
There were things out here. Familiar things… out beyond the trees. Some more present than others.
But that one thing…
We turned back once more. The barren cliffside and its unobstructed gales cut through us like a knife. What heat we had managed to gather simply vanished like it had never been, but that was no matter. One could not expect warmth in places like this.
Cold liked to creep and crawl out here. On the edges of things.
Why would there be something out there? Beyond the ocean. Beyond…
Perhaps a boat?
You’re being too literal.
Our brow knitted together. It was an ocean. How else were we supposed to cross it?
Well. No matter. It was only an idle fancy. There were more important things to attend to.
We glanced to our right where the obelisk waited. The wind, before so punishingly cold, died away, and the heat from our cozy fire returned to fill the space left in its absence.
This thing was not… quite right. For some reason.
But how was I supposed to fix it? And why? I had not been given to understand.
“You!” a woman yelled from behind.
We smiled but did not turn. I had known she would be upset, but to pursue me even here?
Well, she could wait. I was still engrossed with my puzzle.
Were there Words here?
Of course, there are. You just can’t see them yet.
We frowned.
“Don’t be ignoring me, gash!” the woman growled, marching closer.
Gash?
We turned angrily. In an instant, the scorching, desert wind plastered our voluminous robes against our body, sending our cloak flying dramatically behind us. The sands from the nearby dunes pelted audibly against the cloth.
Our pursuer did not have so much protection. Her flaming, red hair whipped about her, and she held her arms over her head in a futile effort to protect herself. Her preference for nakedness was doing her no favors.
Not here.
“What in blazes?!” she yelled, confused and terrified. “Where is we? Where be me Master? Where be Donum?”
Seeing her like that, our eyes began to soften. She seemed so vulnerable. So lost and innocent. I wanted to wrap our arms around her. To tell her everything would be alright.
We stepped forward.
The wind died. The dust settled.
We lowered the mask from our face. “I am Donum.”
She looked up, suddenly hopeful, but her eyes did not find what she was looking for.
“I be Donum!” she hissed.
We smiled, nodding in agreement. “So it is.”
The confusion was back, and for a moment, she merely stared. Finally, she shook her head and cast her eyes outward. There was not much to see. Not here. Only the sand. The cracked clay. The pyramids in the far distance, washed pink by the shimmering heat.
Our eyes were attracted there momentarily, despite myself.
“Where be this?” she asked again.
We could only shrug. What answers could I give her? One place was very like another. The only difference, a step this way. A step that.
“A passing mood,” we said finally, then turned back to the obelisk.
We let a sigh cross our lips, leisurely clutching at the grass between bare toes. This thing really did not belong here at all. But knowing that and doing something about it were two different prospects.
You changed the other, our other voice prodded. Do the same as last time.
The other? What other? And change it how?
If I knew that, I’d have done it already.
Well. At least that was logical.
Maybe…
Slowly, we began to tilt our head to one side. The world began to blur and tilt with us. Sickeningly. There was a tension there…
“Wait! Stop!” the woman yelled. “Fucking bawbags! Stop!”
Irritated, we grunted. I was not going to get anything done with her here.
We glanced over one shoulder to find her on hands and knees, struggling not to empty her stomach into the fetid water. Had I pushed too hard? Gone too fast?
Likely. You can’t claim to know what you’re doing. Your magic does not follow any rules I am familiar with.
That was true—the not knowing part, anyway. The magic bit seemed a little dubious, though. This was only a…
What?
We pursed our lips thoughtfully.
Still, the woman’s presence was complicating things.
“You shouldn’t be here now,” we informed her.
“And why not?” she returned, panting. “It be ye what shouldn’t be places ye wasn’t invited. I want… I want the Donum! I want me Master!”
A look of terrible anguish crossed her face.
“He fled from me. Me!” she choked out. “I has to catch him. Hold him fast. Tell him I ain’t mad. Tell him he never has to run. Not from me. I has to… has to tell him…”
She stopped. Too overwhelmed by her tears to continue.
My heart practically leapt from our chest. I could not bear such sadness over something so foolish.
We rushed to her, kneeling in the swamp, heedless to the state of our dress. Our hands caressed her dampened cheeks, and we kissed her softly.
“Don’t cry,” we pleaded. “It’s okay. We didn’t… I didn’t…”
We shook our head. We didn’t… what?
“Take yer hands off me,” she growled. “I ought to gut ye, taking me lips like that! They be fer me Master and none other!”
We squeezed our eyes shut for a moment. This was getting confusing. “I am Donum,” I said again.
“No. Ye ain’t,” she insisted. “My Donum ain’t got these—“
She lifted a hand from the muck to grasp the horns on our head. Thick, viscous water dripped into our hair, mixing with the sand, as she gave them a rough shake.
For a moment, the world seemed off-kilter. Strange.
“My Donum ain’t got these…!” she said again, viciously twisting the sensitive tips of our breasts, and we gasped as familiar pain and unfamiliar pleasure raced around to our spine.
Our consciousness rocked, and we began to see double.
Where was I? What was happening?
“And no Donum of mine never had one of these!” she growled.
Her hand snaked between our legs, and found… found…
~~~
The redheaded woman, on hands and knees in the ankle-deep quagmire, dug her fingers firmly within waters… of an entirely different sort. Waters neither fetid nor dank… but sweet and tender. Neither cold nor repellent. Waters warm and inviting. Waters… between a pair of legs. Between a second pair of legs. Legs… not her own. But belonging to a second breathtaking beauty…
…though, now slightly marred by flecks of mud dripping down her face.
From her hair—black as night, yet red at the tips as though dipped in ink—to the lush and glorious tail, heedless of the bog it was half-submerged within, she was the closest one could imagine to a perfect specimen of feminine allure. It was next to impossible to look at her and not be stunned into helpless arousal.
Especially with the look of indescribable ecstasy carved into her face.
“You devil,” she moaned, her features warring between amusement and outrage. “That was not meant for you!”
“Fair be fair,” the first growled. “Now give me my Donum!”
The dark-haired beauty laughed before darting forward to capture the other’s lips.
The redhead struggled mightily. At first. But soon, the passion of the moment became too much, and she could not help but surrender. The kiss was a long and sensuous thing. Loving. Attentive.
Familiar.
It was only when they separated to breathe that she remembered to snarl in anger and lashed out with her claws.
But they met only smoke.
The beauty laughed again, her voice fading with the rest of her.
“We are all of us Donum, foolish child.”
A faint wind momentarily drifted through the branches overhead, stirring the long stagnant air. By the time it died, the other was gone without a trace.
The redhead waited, uncertain as to whether she were in store for any other inexplicable nonsense, before finally spitting with distaste to one side.
“Some more than others,” she muttered in dismissal.
Slowly, she began to climb to her feet. It was not an easy task. Her limbs had sunk into the grime, and it pulled at her as though reluctant to let go.
Once clear, she immediately began to shake her hands and pick at the mud from beneath her claws. She had never really minded filth… not for herself. But she could not allow herself to be seen that way.
Not anymore. Not by him.
However, it was not long before she recognized it for the lost cause it was and began swearing with frustration. This was a filthy place. And where there was filth, there could be only filth.
She needed to leave. She did not belong here. She was not filth. Not any longer. She needed to be clean.
Then, she needed to find him.
“Where’d that wench drop me to, anyways?” she said to the empty air. “I ain’t never see’d such a place a’fore.”
She could not see far. There was a dense mist here, obscuring everything beyond a few dozen paces. There was only the stagnant waters, a few blades of reedy grass, and trees on all sides. Yet for all their density, with the way they had pulled their roots up, the trees seemed almost reluctant to grow here. They appeared as though fancy ladies struggling to keep their skirts from being soiled.
Then there was the smell.
“Nothing but death and rot.”
It was an accurate—if not particularly helpful—observation. Death and rot were hardly cardinal directions. Neither would lead her out nor any closer to her goal.
But then, neither would simply standing there.
She lifted a foot from the muck.
And stepped into a snowbank.
She froze there a moment, her eyes wide with panic. Her mind could scarcely grasp what had just happened. One moment, a putrid, steaming swamp. The next…
She swallowed roughly, fighting not to shake with the sheer terror that had suddenly met her eyes. Before this day—this very instant—she had not known anything like this kind of fear. However, before this day, she had never stood atop a spire like this.
A mountaintop so high, so awesome.
Directly below and to all sides, there laid only death. Any other step she could have taken would have sent her over the edge. The fall would have lasted tens of minutes before she even crashed into the slope of the mountain. Her broken body would have tumbled miles even after that.
The feral wind took that opportunity to sweep what remained of her warmth away and she clutched, trembling, at her nakedness.
This could not be. She did not feel cold.
“What kind of rat-arsed shite be this?!” she swore, railing against her own terror as though anger could somehow ward her from her own confusion. Her own helplessness.
Fresh tears began to flow down her cheeks only to freeze in the biting wind. Her hair whipped and snapped at her face and shoulders. She had stepped from a vile place of decay to some brutal hell.
Why? What was going on? Was she being punished?
“Donum!” she screamed into the wind, but she could barely even hear her own voice over its howling. “Donum! Help me! Don’t leave me here!”
The wind died for a moment. Then shifted. Instead of a horrific, soul-stealing gale, it had become a gentle, almost ephemeral caress.
“What is your favorite color?”
The woman whirled, seeking the voice. But there was no one there. Only her. Forsaken and alone on the spire atop the world.
“Donum?” she called, hopeful. “Be that ye?”
“What is your favorite color?” the voice asked again.
The woman’s eyes twitched searchingly through the sky, but found nothing. There was only the cold and clear blue. Even the clouds were beneath her.
“What…?”
Here she was, freezing her tits off, and now some voice was asking nonsense?
“What possible difference do that make?” she hissed angrily. “Come out! Come out and face me, shitebag! Why taunt me like this?”
“Do you not know?” the voice persisted.
“Course I do!” she yelled.
Then hesitated. She suddenly realized she did not know. She had never thought to ask. How could she have a favorite color other than his? The very idea was nonsensical.
The wind began to pick up again, as though impatient.
“Why should I tell ye?” she growled finally, defiant. “Why do ye want to know?”
There came an abrupt shift in the air, and the snow at her feet began to lift and whirl in a half-hearted dance. Then, there came a faint echo up and over the rocks. Barely discernible, yet clear all the same.
“…onum… …elp me… …eave me here!”
She grimaced, ill-liking how desperate and helpless she had sounded. She was First, not some weak-kneed damsel. She was supposed to be better than that.
“So it’s to be a bargain then?”
The voice did not reply. It only waited.
But what could she possibly say? She did not know the answer to the question. Unless…
Why not simply lie? There was no reason not to. It was a stupid question anyway. She took a moment to consider her options before nodding.
“Brown,” she announced confidently.
The wind stopped.
“Brown?” There was a note of surprise.
“Aye? Ye got a problem with brown?” she returned. And slowly, her gaze went distant. “Be a soft color. Like the pooled silt at the bottom of a pond… gone long still, its waters clear fer it. Cast in shadow by the clouds o’erhead. But not… not totally clear. There be a green to it. Like… like from life… just starting to take.”
A trembling hand came to her mouth as she realized what she was describing. More of those damnable tears began to leak from her eyes, but they went unheeded. These were not ones of panic or terror. These were tears of joy. Tears of love.
Overwhelming. Absolute.
There could not be a thing more wondrous. More perfect.
Her favorite… most beautiful color.
“His eyes.”
The words hung there as clouds in the still air. Engraved as solidly as sound ever could be in the vast skies above the world.
Weakly, she sank to her knees, down into the feather-light caresses of the grass, and allowed herself to succumb to weeping. The voice would not understand. Could not. She did not have the words to express her feelings. How could she even begin to describe—
Grass?
Her head jerked up, but she could not see from all her tears.
She grimaced in sudden embarrassment. Getting all emotional over something so silly. Something so… so…
She was just glad her Donum was not there to see.
Roughly scrubbing at her face, she looked around. She had returned to the comfort of the familiar little campfire and her copse of trees. The first place of safety she had ever found. Her home away.
However, there was one thing different. She had never noticed it before… yet somehow, she knew it had always been there. It was like a scent teasing out a long-forgotten, childhood memory.
But it was none of those things. It was an obelisk. Tall and ominous. And black as the heavens of night… save for one splotch of color.
A single vine just beginning to break through the rock.
*****
“Whistling… gah! Why does this have to be so difficult?” Lynnria grumbled. “Couldn’t you have set up the Runes yourself? Why do Ihave to scratch them in?”
“Believe me, I would have—licked your asshole! I’m a dirty slut!—if I’d had the space to work with. That was the entire point of the changes I made to your Core but, even now, your Capacity is only 6. There is only so much I can do.”
I cracked an eye open groggily.
As was usual, post-torpor, I was feeling rather like a blank slate, so I had to spend a few minutes just lying there to reassemble the events of the last few hours.
Right… the Life storage thing. I recalled Mia saying something about Lynnria having to scratch the Runes in herself. I guess they decided to start playing with it while I was out.
My face crumpled while I tried to blink the rest of the sleep from my eyes.
Why does my shoulder feel wet?
The thought had scarcely finished passing through my mind that I became aware of a the gentle snoring just to my left… and then the pleasant weight pressed along my side. You would think a naked woman using me as a body pillow would have been more readily apparent, but the sleeping mind can filter out a lot.
Even the shock of red hair draped across my face.
I blew at it a few times ineffectually before giving up and sweeping the crimson locks away with my free hand. They were surprisingly soft, considering the lack of care she paid them. Almost like they were freshly conditioned. And they smelled rather nice… in a her sort of way.
“No, no. You’ve drawn the fifth lattice backwards. That Rune is supposed to be symmetric.”
Lynnria made a disgusted noise. “It would help if I could actually see what I’m doing. The Runes are there in my head, but the second I try to put them down, they get all blurry. I can’t even remember where I am, half the time.”
“You didn’t expect magic to be easy, did you? But don’t worry. It will become more straightforward with practice. And provided you distribute your attributes… intelligently.”
I craned my neck, trying to see, but I did not want to disturb Jax if I could help it. Unlike the rest of us, she could not go into torpor until she had cleared her Boundary trial, so any rest she got would have been of the natural kind and thus easily interruptible. Plus, she looked so peaceful there with that silly little grin curving her lips. I wondered what she was dreaming about. Something perverted, knowing her.
But I did manage to spot Arx. She had curled up on my opposite side with my lap as her pillow. Funnily enough, I had not noticed her weight either, however I did not worry about waking her. She was still a couple of Layers away from her own Boundary and the issues that could potentially arise from it. She would have passed into torpor just as I had. However, that meant more changes would likely to have befallen her.
From my vantage, I could only see the back of her, so the only obvious difference I could see was in her tail. It had grown much longer and thicker while we were out, particularly at the attachment to her spine. It looked as wide around as the arms at her shoulders. Meanwhile, the whole of it was now covered with a fine layer of white, downy fuzz, just barely visible over the gray of her skin. All save the tip. There, the stuff had grown so dense and long, it was almost as though she had a second head of hair draped over her ankles.
It was kind of sexy, actually. In an… ineffable sort of way. With her pearlescent crown and her white hair, she almost looked like some kind of unicorn given human form.
But with sharp bits. And two horns, obviously.
Her ear flickered, as though from an itch, and a sharp breath expanded her ribcage. For a moment, I worried that my scrutiny had disturbed her slumber, but there was no helping it. When the people around you literally feed from your every passing mood—and are hotter than supermodels—it can be difficult to keep to an even keel.
“She enjoys it,” Jax whispered into my ear, reminding me there was more than one empath around.
When I looked, I found her gazing at me with a frank and unflinching stare. As though she could not bear to miss even a single flutter of my eyelashes. A single flare of my nose. A twitch of my lip. And she was smiling. Beautifully.
“Found ye.”
I was not quite sure what that was supposed to mean. It was not like I had gone anywhere.
“And I’m glad you did,” I allowed anyway, playing along. “Hello, gorgeous.”
She dug her nose into my shoulder.
She’s being awfully cute this morning.
“Sorry about yesterday,” I said. “I knew you were all excited, but I—“
“Ye ain’t got to apologize,” she interrupted quickly. “Ye had a long day, feeding us up from starving and such. Ain’t no shame in tucking in fer a kip after that. Just… say so next time. Don’t ye nay run. Ne’er run. Not from me.”
I nodded, feeling ashamed. But also deeply grateful.
She was right. They were my Dolilim. I did not need to trick them or hide. Their ardor for me was an infinite thing. It would never wane just because I was feeling a little tired or wanted a day to myself. They did not even need sex to feed… for all that they vastly preferred it. Just being near me was enough.
The only way to hurt them was to distance myself—as Arx had so tearfully reminded me after her rescue.
I reached up to stroke Jax’s cheek, returning her stare for stare. My heart seemed to swell just looking at her. She made me feel… peaceful. Content. Secure in the knowledge that no matter what might happen, she was mine. And I was hers.
She really did have such beautiful eyes. They almost shone with their own inner light—even here, in the perpetual, dim glow of the storefront.
Speaking of…
“Lynnria, how much time do we have left?”
Jax grinned knowingly, but she waited for the answer. I had little doubt that she would be willing to take me anytime, any place, and in front of anyone. And glory in it. However, I was not quite so far gone as that.
Lynnria had not reacted much on finding us awake, being too engrossed to look up from her wrist. But that was fine. If anything, it was good she had something else to occupy her attention.
Actually, she had been quite the trooper in keeping watch while we slept. I would have to reward her later.
“Uh… we’re past four hours,” she reported, “but I heard him start moving around back there not too long ago.”
Jax drummed her claws on my sternum for a moment, her joyful mood rapidly souring. We had made a deal with the man, and he was overdue.
“He better be at work on them… clothes,” she finished with a growl. Despite the threat in her tone, she was clearly still feeling distasteful at the idea of actually wearing any.
Arx grunted sleepily from my knee, having awakened despite our feeble attempts at quiet. “Oh, who cares? We’re getting paid just to sit here.”
I quirked an eyebrow. “Funny. With the way you two went at him earlier, it certainly sounded like you cared. ‘Four hours and not a second more,’ as I recall. I was half afraid you were going to tear his throat out over it.”
She chuckled and rolled over to her back to stretch. I could see her tail twitching between her legs down and even past her toes as her back arched. Not that it held my attention long.
Fuck me… How is it possible for a person to be that hot?
“Don’t be silly, Dearest. You would have hated that.”
Regrettably, it took me longer than it should have to process her words, but when a person looks like that, it tends to make the blood flow to all the wrong places.
‘I would have hated it,’ she had said.
Not that she did not want to. Nor any indication that she might be reluctant to take an innocent life.
No. I would have hated it. No other reason. And Jax did not argue.
I sighed. If pressed, I had to allow that it was at least a… viable moral outlook—from a broader societal perspective. Even if it was massively fucked up.
They would not just go around eating babies, all of a sudden. But not because of the grief and pain to their parents, the outrage of the town they happened to live in, or the angry guards coming for our hides. Or even because it was just plain evil. They would not do it because I would be horrified.
Great. Who wouldn’t want to be the moral linchpin of an entire species?
“Okay… I think that’s finished,” Lynnria announced, thankfully changing the subject.
“Looks good,” Mia agreed. “Now, if we can get one of you Dolilim to provide a bit of Life…?”
Lynnria grimaced with distaste. “Do we have to use theirs? I’d much rather store Donum’s.”
“I’ve already told you—dick holster—the Runes are too unstable on creation to wait for a male orgasm. Now, stop quibbling.”
“I be close to full, Master,” Jax volunteered.
I bobbed my head once, and she quickly rolled away. She did not bother to actually stand, so I was presented with a face-full of her—admittedly pleasant—backside. But my eyes were not drawn to where they normally would have been.
No, they had drifted slightly higher. Right to the base of her spine and the tiny nubbin just beginning to sprout there.
Huh. How about that.
I had to suppose it made sense that she would continue to grow as her race demanded, magical influence or no. It would just take longer. A relieved smile began to steal over my features. She would be thrilled.
But before I could say anything, Arx’s head appeared overhead, drawing my attention away. I immediately noticed how unbelievably symmetric her features were becoming. Even an engineer with drafting tools would have been hard-pressed to find fault with a face like that. Her skin was clear and completely free from blemishes. She was… perfect. Or near enough, a mortal such as myself would be hard pressed to tell the difference.
That and with the pendulous sway of my second’s breasts hanging just above my skin, I was finding it immensely difficult not to spring to attention. If she had descended even a fingernail downward, I knew I would fail. Immediately.
“‘Snails…” she breathed wondrously, distracting me just enough from her beauty to find her eyes.
And I was taken aback.
As challenging as I was finding it to be in such close proximity to someone so attractive, she was looking at me with something approaching awe.
She swallowed roughly, only scarcely able to even speak. “Are… are you hungry?”
The white-haired beauty gasped slightly at her own suggestion and bit at her lower lip.
Oh, fuck. That was it. That was all it took. My struggle was over.
It took less than a heartbeat for me to be inside her, though I had not moved. My reaction was all the permission she had needed to mount me.
But that was all she did. She made no effort to buck nor shake her hips. She did not move, at all.
Not outwardly.
She seemed intent on letting her inner world do the work. Though the effort seemed to cost her. Her breath came in short, hitching gasps, and her upper body twitched and jerked constantly.
“Is this w-working?” Arx asked, hopeful. Watching my every move. My every twitch. “Can you… can you f-feel it? My Life?”
It was difficult to concentrate on anything beyond sensation. Much like the gray-skinned demon atop me, I had an instinctive need to move. To thrust. To complete the act.
However… after I had managed to rein myself in somewhat, I realized I could, if barely. There was a flow down there, where we were joined. I could feel the sweeping waves of her inner kingdom desperately attempting to massage the Life into me and the little sparks of heat gradually spreading outward and into my body.
I was not one to ever claim that sex was meant for anything. Not in the way some people did. But if it ever had, it had never been meant for this.
This was… perverse. Too good. Food and sex combined into one hole.
Maybe I was just trying to justify it to myself, but there was a certain beauty to it, as well. Especially when the one feeding you was so happy in the act.
Slowly, we began to smile at one another. Then laugh like a couple of idiots.
Why did I always have to be so dumb? Why was it so difficult to just… let go and enjoy what I had?
Arx loved me. Jax loved me. And I them. That was all that mattered.
But to my dismay, our coupling was cut short by an mood-shattering yelp, and the both of us jerked around just in time see Lynnria slapping a hand over her wrist.
A stunned silence descended on the room. I was not altogether certain what I had just seen. But I knew what it had looked like.
Was that… a nipple?
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Sorry my release schedule has been so erratic. I'm actually several chapters ahead of this one already, but I've found that it helps me to give a day or two's worth of space between my edits and its actual release. That way, I can reread it and decided if the new stuff actually works.
