After his bath, which took some time to obtain due to his size precluding him from using the wooden tubs the people of the estate normally employed for the purpose, Fenrir sought out Brandis. He was still carrying Safara around, but the rest of his girls had scattered to business of their own around the estate. Chellise had said something about investigating the sex dungeon further, upon hearing which Kira had insisted on going with her to 'try to keep her from licking any weird stuff this time.' Fenrir suspected half the reason she wanted to go with Chellise was to look at the sex toys some more, since the st time had been cut short. Katari had remained in the courtyard to train by herself, no doubt inspired by the duel she had just witnessed, and Myrina had gone ...somewhere. Fenrir wasn't sure where, but she hadn't seemed to want company.

  He found the veteran knight in an improvised interrogation room grilling the test in a long line of staff. This one was a guard of the estate, and he nearly fell out of his chair when Fenrir entered.

  "What is that?!" The man lifted a shaking finger to point at Fenrir, who calmly walked over to stand behind Brandis' chair.

  America shifted in her seat to look up at Fenrir. "Hello," she smiled. Then turning to the terrified guard, she continued, "You needn't fear, he's with us. He won't hurt you."

  "So long as you behave yourself, anyway," Fenrir added with a smile of his own.

  Taking some heart from the unconcern of both Brandis and America, not to mention the softening effect caused by Fenrir's nonthreatening demeanor as well as his still carrying Safara in his arms, the guard composed himself enough to answer the rest of Brandis' questions. After he had left the room, accompanied by two of Brandis' soldiers, the knight sighed and stretched. "I didn't find anything suspicious about him either, did you?"

  "No," returned America. "I think we can clear him as well." She opened her mouth to say something more, but just then a soldier stuck his head into the room.

  "Ser Brandis, your highness, the dy of the estate wishes to speak with you."

  The two addressed exchanged looks. "Now she wants to talk. I wonder what changed?" America asked.

  "Who knows, maybe she realized the position she's in?" Brandis replied, shrugging. "Or maybe she just wants to revile us a bit more."

  "Only one way to find out." America stood, and Brandis followed suit. "Would you like to join us?"

  This was addressed to Fenrir, and after a moment's thought he nodded. "Yes, I think I will. We may be able to be of some use to you."

  "Do you think that's a good idea? You are, after all, a Dark-race," Brandis pointed out.

  "True," Fenrir returned, "but we may be able to use that to our advantage, and besides, holding Safara as I am makes me considerably less threatening. Safara being a direct victim of the dy's husband is useful here as well; seeing how she reacts to the knowledge will tell us quite a bit about her. If you're alright with that, Safara," he interrupted himself to add, looking down at her.

  Safara gave a determined little nod. "If it helps."

  Fenrir fixed her with a piercing look for a few seconds more, trying to determine whether she really felt up to it or if she just didn't want to disappoint him, but she seemed certain of her decision, if a little nervous.

  "That's true," Brandis admitted. "Very well then, let's go."

  The party followed the guard to where they had imprisoned the dy and her daughter, in a set of apartments with only a single door, before which was standing one of Brandis' soldiers. The one they had been following unlocked the door and stood aside to allow them to enter.

  The inside of the apartment was no less opulent than the rest of the mansion. The dy of the estate sat with arms around her daughter in the small sitting room into which the door opened. Half-open doors on either side of the room allowed Fenrir a glimpse of identical bedrooms beyond each, and he noted that both beds appeared untouched, though it being by now afternoon it was possible and even probable that they had simply been remade. He focused on the occupants of the room as Brandis and America took seats opposite them.

  Spoiler

  (Image by Personal Ami)

  [colpse]The mother was a woman of about average height with warm brown, almost chestnut hair and hazel eyes. She was full-figured but with a slim waist, and just now her hair fell loosely about her shoulders and framed a tired and anxious but still beautiful face. Fenrir estimated her not much more than thirty years old, just as Brandis had said earlier. The daughter, around eight years old, was her mother in miniature except for her eyes, which were blue. Both were still dressed in nightclothes, the mother in some sort of satiny vender affair which at best did a poor job of hiding the curves underneath, and the child in a roomy white overshirt that almost reached her ankles, made of fine-woven cotton.

  Fenrir gnced them both over with God's Eye, finding nothing out of the ordinary with either. The mother's name was Grace Murtell, her daughter was Felicity, and both were of levels consistent with their purported positions in life. Both were tired, the mother significantly more so than her daughter, and Grace was also a roiling mass of fear and anxiety. Felicity was uneasy as well, but not nearly to the extent of her mother.

  When they saw him there was a sharp spike in both their heartrates, though as he had expected, the fact that he was cradling Safara in his arms blunted the threat enough that neither lost their composure. In fact, when he took his own seat, he noticed Felicity's eyes drawn repeatedly to Safara, lingering on her hair and ears. He smiled internally. The young girl was clearly fascinated by the fact that Safara was an elf.

  Grace, on the other hand, could barely keep her eyes off of Fenrir, but there was little other than fear to be found in her gaze. 'She's a bundle of nerves right now. I need to find a way to calm her down a bit, or we're unlikely to get much of anything out of her,' he thought. 'But how?'

  His musings were interrupted when Brandis spoke. "You wished to see us?"

  Tearing her eyes from Fenrir, Lady Murtell took a deep trembling breath before saying, "Whatever it is that you pn to do, please, leave my daughter out of it." Her gaze flickered back to Fenrir for the briefest of moments. "I promise, I won't resist or struggle no matter what you do to me, just please let my daughter go."

  America and Brandis exchanged startled gnces, but before they could say anything, Fenrir arose and, stepping forward, knelt directly in front of the now terrified Grace. He was still holding Safara, and she directed a questioning look at him. Ignoring both Safara's gnce and the way Grace flinched back from him, he spoke in a low voice, though not so low that Brandis and America couldn't hear. "Lady Murtell, have you ever seen this elf before?"

  Grace focused properly on the elf for the first time since they had entered the apartment, but after a long moment of scrutiny she shook her head. "No. ...Should I have?"

  "On the contrary, I was hoping you hadn't. You see, this elf's name is Safara Cidrin. Several weeks ago, she was kidnapped and sold by svers; sold to someone who, in the time it took us to track her down, tortured her cruelly, beat her and starved her." Fenrir paused to allow the full effect of his words to sink in. "That someone was your husband."

  There was a sharp intake of breath. Grace stared with horrified eyes, first at Fenrir, then Safara. "...No, it can't be. It can't be. Brigham would never do such a thing. You're lying. You have to be."

  "Look at Safara and say that."

  Grace's eyes fell to Safara's face, then flinched away. "But why? Why would he do such a thing? You must be lying." A note of pleading had entered her voice.

  "Tell me. What kind of a man did your husband seem to you?" Fenrir had kept his voice gentle throughout the conversation, and he was careful not to allow any note of accusation to creep into his tone.

  "...Distant, mostly. He married me for my money, and I-" She cut herself off. "I knew from the beginning he did not love me. It was a marriage of business; we could both profit by the union."

  "Have you spent much time with him?"

  "No, only at society functions and the like. Usually, we -that is, my daughter and I- live in the city, at his townhouse. I barely notice when he comes and goes. In truth, I could not even tell you whether he spends the most time here, in Eldfall, or somewhere else. We are always liberally supplied with money, and all our wants and needs are taken care of by the servants."

  "So you do not sleep together."

  A hint of a blush touched the dy's cheek. "No, we have separate apartments."

  "Is the child his?" Fenrir nodded to Felicity, who was listening to the conversation with bated breath whenever she wasn't staring at Safara.

  Grace stiffened. "Yes," she said, instantly on guard at the mention of her daughter.

  "Have you ever tried for another one?"

  "Sir, that is a very personal question," Grace protested.

  "I apologize for making you uncomfortable, but I must ask."

  The dy's eyes fshed. "No, we have not. If you must know, Brigham has not touched me since we consummated our marriage. It is a marriage of business, after all."

  "How then is he having his more carnal needs met?"

  "He has a mistress, I assume. I never cared to ask." By this point Grace's initial fear was beginning to be overtaken by her indignation at Fenrir's prying into her personal affairs.

  "Or a succession of sves."

  That brought the dy's anger to a screeching halt, and she was silent for a long moment. "How do you know?" she finally asked in a small voice.

  "We found a secret room here in the estate set up as a torture dungeon. That was also where we found Safara, hanging by her wrists from chains and with obvious marks of torture upon her body."

  "But that could have been another's doing; one of the servants, or-"

  Fenrir cut across her. "Your husband admitted to it, both by word and deed, and before he knew we were anything other than friends. In point of fact, it was his eagerness to purchase more sves that allowed us access to that room in the first pce."

  Grace defted. Her arms tightened around her daughter, and the silence in the room was so heavy it seemed almost a tangible thing. When she spoke, her voice was so low Fenrir doubted the two humans behind him could hear it. "So, what, then? Have you come to take your revenge? To hurt me as my husband hurt this elf?"

  "And if I have?"

  Grace swallowed hard. "Spare my daughter. That is all I ask."

  Fenrir held her gaze for a long moment, watching the fear, but also the determination that pyed in her hazel orbs, then leaned back. "I am satisfied. You knew nothing of your husband's crimes."

  A glimmer of hope entered her eyes. "What will you do?"

  "To you? Nothing. You are innocent, and a good woman, if a bit arrogant. Your husband, on the other hand... Well, let us simply say that it is unlikely that you will ever see him again."

  "Will you kill him?"

  "I? No, I doubt it. He may end up on the executioner's block, but that is up to my friends here, not I." Straightening and stepping back in one fluid motion, he indicated Brandis and America, who had watched the entire exchange in silence, only gncing at each other at several points.

  Clearing his throat, Brandis spoke. "Your husband is part of an extensive sapient trafficking organization which we have been working to dismantle. That is what brought us here, and is why we have been forced to intrude so rudely upon your home, even to the point of holding you captive, since we of course could not be sure that you were not involved if your husband was. He will be sent back to the capital and will in due time stand trial for his crimes along with any others complicit in his actions among the servants."

  "I see. And what will become of me?"

  "In compliance with the w, all his possessions must be confiscated until he stands trial. If acquitted, they will be given back to him; if convicted, they would be given to you as the legal inheritor of his estate, minus whatever sum is necessary to make restitution to any and all harmed by his actions. In the meantime..." Brandis trailed off, thinking.

  "I'm sure we can figure something out to ensure you won't need to live on the streets," America chimed in, giving Grace a comforting smile.

  "Yes, I don't think there would be any issue in allowing you to keep living off of his holdings. A temporary steward will be assigned to take care of it all until the trial, which may not be for some time, but I'm sure we can procure allowance for you to remain here and make use of enough of his capital to live comfortably in the meantime."

  Grace sighed, and rexed somewhat, though her back remained straight as befitted a noble dy. "I am gd. I feared the worst, when..." her eyes fshed to Fenrir for a moment, and she did not finish her sentence.

  Fenrir gnced down at Safara, his eyes twinkling. She returned him a look which mingled amusement and admonition. "Well, you can hardly bme her," she whispered.

  "True enough," he whispered back.

  "If there's nothing else, we should get back to work," Brandis was saying. "Time is of the essence."

  "There is one more thing," Grace said, looking between Brandis and America. "I apologize for what I said to both of you earlier. I was upset and I did not understand the situation."

  "All water under the bridge," Brandis replied, sharing a brief smile with America before they both turned to face Lady Murtell again. "We don't bme you in the slightest for resenting such a rude awakening."

  Grace bowed her head, and with a few more words of courtesy exchanged between them they parted. As they walked down the hall America looked up at Fenrir. "I'm impressed. She was putty in your hands from almost the very beginning."

  Fenrir shrugged. "I just pyed it by ear; it wasn't as if I had some carefully considered strategy."

  Brandis chuckled. "That only makes it more impressive. If you'd be willing to lend a hand with the interrogations, I expect your assistance would help them go much smoother."

  Fenrir considered for a moment. "...Sure, why not? It's not as if I have anything better to do."

  America beamed, and Brandis could not restrain a pleased smile of his own.

  "Just don't expect it to go as well as it did with Gra- Lady Murtell. She revealed her primary motivation at the very beginning, but I doubt the servants we're going to be examining will be as forthcoming."

  "Oh, I have faith," the princess responded without a second's hesitation. "But speaking of Lady Murtell, don't you think we could allow her the freedom of the estate, Ser Brandis?"

  Brandis took a moment to think. "I believe so. As long as we make sure she knows not to try to leave the grounds, and to expect some strange characters roaming around, I don't see any harm in it."

  "I'll go let her and the guards know," America said, and reversing course, she was soon out of sight around a corner. She slipped into the interrogation room before long, however, and took her seat beside Brandis with a smile and a nod to indicate she had successfully reyed the news.

  Fenrir allowed Brandis to take the lead in the questioning of the prisoners, only occasionally adding a question of his own. Instead he focused on trying to discern their true personality, made considerably easier by God's Eye. He had set Safara on a chair and stood like a monolith behind the rest of the party. Just his presence was enough to scare several of the prisoners into admitting everything they knew on the spot, though that usually turned out to be nothing of use. Still, Brandis' prediction turned out to be correct; Fenrir's insight into each prisoner and the effect his presence had on them made the process go considerably more quickly.

  It was over an hour ter when a guard entered the room. The interrogators had just finished discussing the test suspect and were ready to send for the next, but what the guard said caused Brandis to dey the order. "A message for you, from Miss Cree."

  "Cassia? I wonder what she's found out that has her sending a message now?" Brandis mused as he took the letter and broke its seal. It was quite a thick letter, but the knight didn't get very far into it before he stopped reading. "She's coming here."

  "What? But what about the catfolk and that kitsune?"

  "Apparently that's why she's come. One of the most knowledgeable mages in the nation on the subject of enchantments which directly affect sapients lives in Eldfall, and if that fails, Eldfall is much closer to the home of Citrinas. The Saintess is sure to be busy, but it's worth requesting an audience; who knows whether she might have a solution."

  "So she's bringing them with her?"

  "Yes. According to this, she expects this letter to reach us only a day or so before she reaches the city herself. Let's see, here she says..." Brandis trailed off, reading, then spoke again. "She'll be here either tomorrow or the day after. I expect it would be more secure if she were to bring them straight here instead of trying to find lodgings for them in the city."

  "How was she traveling?" America asked.

  "By riverboat, same as us. We'll need to have someone at the docks to meet her, and to catch her up on everything we've been up to in the meanwhile."

  Brandis continued speaking, but Fenrir let his thoughts drift, paying only a modicum of attention. All he knew of this Cassia Cree was what his followers had told him the night before, but he wasn't particurly worried about her. No, it was the mention of the Saintess that had put him on guard. 'Citrinas is something of a wild card. Carnachias mentioned her having autism, which means she may not react in the same way as your average human. That makes her more difficult to predict, and therefore more dangerous. I want to avoid contact with her if at all possible. With any luck, maybe I can get out of here before she gets involved, if she even does.'

  A question from America dragged him back to the conversation. "But she can't possibly have used all that space just to say that."

  "Oh no, she didn't," Brandis replied. "The rest of this is all the details on the Eldfall svers' ring that she was able to dig up from the papers we seized back in Mavenia. How about we stop the interrogations for today and go over this instead? It is starting to get ter."

  "Sounds good to me," America nodded. "Thanks for your help, Ser Fenrir. You were of just as much assistance as I thought you would be."

  Fenrir bowed his head in acknowledgement as Brandis made a sound of agreement. "It was my pleasure, princess, but now if you don't mind I'm going to track down my followers and see what they've been getting up to."

  "Certainly. We'll talk with you ter." America watched him out of the room, carrying Safara with apparent effortlessness, and could not help but feel a little sad to see him go. It was not as though he made himself the center of conversation, but she found that the room seemed colder and emptier with him gone.

  The clearing of a throat caught her attention, and she jerked a little. Brandis was staring at her with something close to a smile on his lips. She colored.

  "Seen something you like?" The question was said in jest, but America blushed further at the insinuation. Then Brandis' smile vanished. "I'm sure I don't need to tell you-"

  She cut him off. "I know, I know. There could never be anything between us."

  He nodded, satisfied, and they turned their attention back to Cassia's letter, but America could not help but wonder to herself what possibilities might have existed had she not been a princess, with all the obligations that entailed.

  Meanwhile, Fenrir had bent his steps towards the secret sex dungeon, where he expected to find his succubi. As he had thought, they were both still there, poring over the extensive collection the former lord of the estate had accumuted, and from the looks of things they had taken the liberty of testing out some of the items.

  "I think I like this one the best. That one vibrates too fast, I can barely stand to touch it to my pussy, but this one's vibrations are slower and heavier, so it can make me cum no problem but it doesn't overwhelm me."

  "Yeah, but this one here is pretty good too."

  "Which one?"

  "This one. It shuts off whenever you get too close to cumming, so-"

  Kira ughed. "Of course you'd like that one, you masochist."

  "No, but listen, you always cum harder when you edge yourself for a while, so it feels better in the end."

  "Sure, but in the meantime it's fucking torture. Though I guess if the boss were the one edging me..."

  "Yeah, exactly! Just imagine Daddy making you walk around for a whole day with this in you, and you're not allowed to touch yourself. Then at the end of the day, to reward you for being such a good girl and not cumming even once, he fucks you until you can't even think! It's so hot!"

  "Oh, really? We might have to do that sometime then," Fenrir said, coming to a stop behind the two.

  "Daddy!" Chellise cried, whirling round. "You mean it?"

  "Sure, I don't see why not."

  "Boss, we have got to bring some of this stuff home with us. We could have so much fun with these!"

  "I'll talk with Brandis and the princess and see if we can't work something out. But now it's getting close to suppertime, so pull that dildo out of you and let's go track down Katari."

  Kira smirked and pulled the aforementioned phallus from her pussy before putting her clothing back in order. Chellise, whose clothing was also in disarray, did the same, and together they headed for the exit.

  As they left Fenrir gnced down at Safara and was unsurprised to see a blush on her face. "Too licentious for you still?"

  "No, not exactly," she replied. "I mean, I know what they are and what they're like. It's just that before now I think they were holding back, either for my sake or maybe yours. It's a little hard to let go of what I was taught for so many years, even if it is kind of exciting."

  Fenrir chuckled and leaned down to pnt a kiss on her forehead. "You'll get there, don't worry. Just the fact that you're not condemning or looking down on them for their 'lewd' behavior says something about how far you've already come."

  They found Katari in conversation with Myrina, sitting on a bench overlooking the grounds and a small river in the distance. Myrina seemed to be trying to learn more about Fenrir, with less success than she had hoped due to both Katari's ck of knowledge of Fenrir's past as well as her hesitation to give away anything which she thought Fenrir might not want shared. The amazon fell silent once she noticed Fenrir's approach, but her eyes did their best to bore a hole through him.

  Fenrir decided not to address her curiosity for the time being. God's Eye told him she didn't consider him an enemy; indeed, she hardly seemed to know what to make of him. Armed as he was with that knowledge he had no problem with her wanting to know more about him, but he saw no reason to give her too much information too soon. She was a very attractive woman and a strong warrior and if he could, he wanted to make her his. Her curiosity would naturally draw her into proximity with him, which would give his influence time to work, and with any luck he hoped to count her among his followers when all was said and done.

  If the limited time before he left would allow for it, he reminded himself. His Alpha perk was designed for slow and subtle influence, and for a woman like the remarkably strong-willed amazon, a few days was far too short a time to expect any noticeable results.

  "It's getting te, and we were going to go eat some supper," he told Katari.

  "Of course, my lord." She instantly stood and with a little bow towards Myrina, took her customary pce behind and slightly to the side of Fenrir.

  Fenrir turned his attention back to the amazon. "You're welcome to join us if you'd like."

  She hesitated for a moment, her eyes darting between each of his companions before she finally nodded and shrugged. "Sure. I could eat."

  After procuring food from the old cook, for which they had to wait a bit, but which was as delicious as the morning meal had been, they made use of the servants' dining room to sit down and eat. The conversation was light, with Kira and Chellise doing most of the talking. The rest of them chimed in here and there except for Myrina, who unless directly addressed stayed silent, her eyes darting back and forth between the rest of the party and Fenrir as though trying to solve a perplexing puzzle.

  Seeing this, Fenrir resolved to try to find a moment to speak with her alone. A conversation with her was sure to be highly interesting as well as illuminating.

  After the meal, Fenrir took his girls back to his room, Myrina parting ways with them at the entrance to the dining room. As they walked through the halls, Fenrir looked down at Safara. "How are you feeling by now?" he asked.

  "Tired, mostly, but otherwise I'm alright. My side doesn't hurt nearly as much as it did."

  "And mentally?"

  "Just gd you're here. As long as you're around I feel safe. All the time I was a prisoner it was only the thought of you that kept me going. I had this feeling that somehow you'd find a way to save me, even though my reason told me you were lost to me forever. And..."

  "And now here I am," Fenrir finished, holding her a little closer to him.

  "Yes, here you are." Her voice was almost a whisper. Fenrir did not miss the little tremor in her voice, nor the way she snuggled deeper into his embrace.

  They had almost reached his room when she spoke again. "I do miss my diary. I used to write in it almost every day; it was my way of unwinding and processing everything that happened to me, but I guess I'll need to start a new one."

  "Ah, I have good news for you there," Fenrir said. Entering the room, he pced her on one of the chairs and reaching a hand into his pouch, came out not with the leatherbound volume he sought, but instead a smooth midnight-blue cylinder. "What? When did this get there?" He looked it over, and when he turned it to see the end a suspicion leapt into his mind. "Surely not..."

  With a finger he traced the familiar shape, and with the texture and the reaction, suspicion crystallized into certainty. 'Fucking hell, Carnachias. Menoche's going to kill both of us, isn't she?'

  "What's that, boss?" Kira asked, her attention attracted by the suddenness with which he sat down.

  "Ah... A toy, of sorts," Fenrir replied, thinking to himself, 'Oh, what the hell. In for a penny, in for a pound.' Aloud, he continued, "You know those dildos you were pying with earlier? If I'm not mistaken, this is the reversed version of that."

  "Ooh." Kira moved to stand beside him for a better look. "Where'd you get it?"

  "It was a gift, I believe, from Carnachias."

  Kira's expression went from curious to filled with awe in an instant. "Carnachias?" She barely breathed the word as one of her hands stole out to tentatively rest her fingertips on the smooth blue of the cylinder body.

  All of this attracted the attention of the rest of the room, and Fenrir had to repeat himself to satisfy the curiosity of Chellise and Katari. Safara, of course, had heard every word the first time.

  "When did you get it, Daddy?" Chellise asked in a hushed voice.

  "I'm honestly not sure. I didn't realize I had it until just a moment ago, but I'm inclined to believe it's been in my pouch for at least a day or so."

  "Well, are you going to try it out?" A familiar smirk was growing on Kira's face, one that mixed mischief and eroticism in a heady combination.

  Fenrir considered for a moment, then grinned. "Why don't you give me a hand? Make it fun for both of us."

  Kira's smirk blossomed into a delighted smile. "You mean it? Sure!"

  Her excitement was such that Fenrir had to stifle an amused ugh. Then his eyes fell on Safara, and he remembered why he had reached into his pouch in the first pce. "Oh, I'm sorry, Safara, I almost forgot. Here."

  A second foray into the depths of the bag turned up the item sought, and he handed the diary to a wide-eyed Safara. "This isn't- It can't be..." Her voice trailed off as she flipped through the book, verifying that it was indeed her lost diary. "Thank you, E'nas!" She hugged the diary to her chest.

  "Now that I think about it though, didn't you girls bring along the rest of Safara's things? They weren't in the clearing, at any rate."

  "Yes, why?" Kira asked.

  "She had a couple changes of clothes in her bag," Fenrir pointed out.

  "Yes..." An impish smile was beginning to grow on Kira's face.

  "So you could have gotten those when we were trying to turn a bnket into clothing for her."

  "I mean yeah, I could've, but isn't she cute with that on? Not to mention sexy, and when you think about the fact that she's not wearing anything underneath..."

  Fenrir turned an unimpressed expression on Kira, but her words had their effect on his cock.

  "See, you think so too!" she cried, pointing to it. "And besides, it wasn't as if there was any harm in it, right?"

  "Humm," answered Fenrir noncommittally. "Let's see what Safara thinks about it."

  "Oh! Um, I don't mind really. It was a little embarrassing, but kind of exciting too, to think that Fenrir could just-" she blushed a brilliant red, and did not finish her sentence.

  "...Well, I guess I'll let you off this time, considering that as you said, it didn't really matter, and Safara didn't mind. But you better be careful about how you pull these stunts, understood?" Fenrir fixed her with a severe look, and Kira's grin faded a little.

  "I understand. I wouldn't have done it if I thought it could've actually mattered, you know? I'll be careful."

  "Good." Fenrir nodded, satisfied. "I'm not saying you're not allowed to have fun, just make sure there are no harmful consequences for anyone involved. Now, about this fleshlight..."

  "This what?" Chellise asked from his side.

  "Fleshlight. This thing." Fenrir indicated the cylinder he still held. "I suppose you might call it a pocket pussy, or something like that?"

  Kira shrugged. "I've never seen anything like that before, so I have no idea what you'd call it. Pocket pussy makes sense, but what does fleshlight even mean?"

  Fenrir thought for a moment, trying to find an easy way of expining, then gave it up as not being worth the bother. "It's a bit difficult to expin, and it doesn't really matter. I like pocket pussy better as a name anyway."

  "So do I," said Kira, and Chellise nodded from beside him.

  "Then we'll just call it that. But, back to the matter at hand, this is going to need lubrication before we can use it."

  "I can take care of that," Chellise volunteered, holding out a hand for the toy.

  "And I'll get your cock nice and ready." Fitting actions to words, Kira quickly began vishing Fenrir's shaft with very wet licks and kisses while Chellise did the same to the pocket pussy.

  "Wow, this is just like a real pussy," the mint-green succubus marveled. "It moves and reacts just like one, and it's even getting wet just like a real pussy does. Tastes really good, too, holy shit."

  "Okay, that should be good," Fenrir said after a few minutes of enjoying Kira's tongue. "Keep going for much longer and we might as well forget about the pocket pussy."

  Kira gave his cock one st long lick then looked up, grinning in pleasure at the compliment to her skills. "Is it ready, Chell?"

  "I think so, but the hole is awfully small compared to Daddy's cock. Is it even going to fit?"

  "Well, I don't think Carnachias would have given the boss a gift that didn't even fit him," Kira pointed out. "Now hand it here."

  Chellise gave up the pocket pussy with evident regret, but Kira took no mind, instead bringing it to Fenrir's cockhead and teasing his tip with the now engorged lips of the toy.

  "Take it slow at first," Fenrir directed. "I want to take my time to enjoy it."

  'And if I give Menoche a chance to get used to my size she's less likely to visit divine wrath upon me,' he added internally. 'If what Carnachias said is true, this isn't her pussy, precisely, it's just a replica that's modeled after and nerve-linked to her pussy. A very high quality replica, but then I'd expect no less from the goddess of debauchery. But what that means is that even if I'm not actually fucking Menoche, it'll certainly feel like it to her. So probably best not to be too rough, at least at first.'

  "Okay, boss," Kira replied, and began to stretch the toy around Fenrir's girth with little pushes, simuting slow thrusts to open the tight passage bit by pleasurable bit. The pussy spasmed and clenched around him as his retively narrow tip passed through and then the widening shaft spread its lips and the channel beyond further and further open.

  Fenrir took a moment to look around at his audience, noticing that everyone in the room was watching spellbound. Kira had her face screwed up in concentration, dividing her attention between Fenrir's face and his cock as she maneuvered the pocket pussy onto his shaft from her position kneeling between his legs. Her breathing was noticeably heightened, and the scent of her arousal tickled Fenrir's nose with every movement of her body. Nor was her arousal the only one he was smelling. Chellise was practically panting to his left, leaning over his p to better see the action while both of her hands were all but hidden between her thighs and working furiously. Safara was clutching her diary with one hand, the other mauling one of her breasts with such ferocity that her bnket-turned-toga was beginning to come undone. Her eyes were glued to Fenrir's cock, and he realized it was the first time she had seen it up close. Katari sat stiff as a pole, her hands resting on her thighs and clenched so tightly her knuckles were bone-white. Like Safara, she seemed incapable of tearing her eyes from the sight of Fenrir's shaft slowly vanishing into the depths of the pocket pussy.

  Speaking of the pocket pussy, it was heaven. Despite being only a replica, the toy writhed and squeezed around him in ways not even his succubi could match. Only the fact that there was no body attached to it, to be looked at and held, to be groped and fondled, no face upon which to enjoy the py of the expressions of pleasure and ecstasy, no voice to sing its sweet song of passion kept it from being the best sex he had ever experienced. But not even the quite literally divine pleasure of the pocket pussy could entirely bury the feeling that something was missing.

  Grabbing Chellise by the back of her head, he tilted it back and kissed her, long and deep. She responded to the kiss with all the delighted passion he had expected, enticing him to maintain the lip-lock far longer than he had at first intended. He only broke it when Kira finally brought the pocket pussy all the way down to brush its outer lips against his knot. About halfway down he had come up against a barrier; the door to the goddess' womb, but it had kept giving way before him as Kira had taken him deeper and deeper. Now, with his cock all but hilted it stopped with the shaft it had made so much room for ever so gently resting against it.

  Kira looked up at Fenrir, silently asking permission, and when he nodded she lifted the toy up until only the tip of his cock rested within its embrace. Then with smooth rhythmic motions she began to plunge it to the base and pull it back up again, sending the pocket pussy fluttering anew and forcing a long groan from Fenrir. It was ecstasy of the highest order. Fenrir had just enough presence of mind to wonder, if this was what a replica felt like, what must the real thing be like?

  Kira had her eyes fixed on him in fascination. "Does it really feel that good?" she whispered.

  "Better. Carnachias went all out on this one," Fenrir managed, trying to hold back the climax that he could already feel cwing for release. But it would not long be denied, especially when Chellise grabbed one of his hands and forced it down the front of her top to cup one of her breasts.

  The pillowy softness under his palm was the proverbial st straw, and with a grunt he came, the first pulse so strong that Kira nearly lost her grip on the pocket pussy. Taking fresh hold, she weathered the rest of the bsts with more success, rapturous eyes watching Fenrir the entire time.

  Orgasm over, Fenrir rexed into the cushions at his back. "Yes, that was pretty damn good," he forestalled the question on Kira's lips. "Well done." A thought came to him, and he smirked. "Why don't you and Chellise take turns cleaning my cum out of it?"

  "I'll never turn down a chance at your cum, boss," Kira grinned, pulling the pocket pussy off his cock and beginning to scoop out semen with her tongue. Chellise took the opportunity to clean off Fenrir's cock, and from the satisfied grin on her face Fenrir judged she had come at the same time he had.

  Turning his eyes to his other two companions revealed Safara sitting in a state of complete disarray but with the slightly dazed expression of someone who had just experienced an intense orgasm. He admired her breasts, now fully bare, and her pussy, shining with her juices and open to observation as well, since by this point the bnket which had once covered her privates was now bunched uselessly around her waist. Katari on the other hand had not changed her position one iota. Her blush was intense enough to be obvious even against her scarlet skin and the scent of her arousal was so strong that Fenrir judged even a human would find it obvious, but her hands remained determinedly atop her thighs, bunched into fists in a desperate bid for self-control despite her thighs grinding against each other in a slow dance she apparently had no power to stop.

  As Fenrir looked into her eyes, filled with a tortured need, he was suddenly struck by a thought that made him stand bolt upright. The two succubi were nearly knocked over at the movement, and Kira cried, "What's wrong?"

  He ignored her in favor of ordering Katari to "Follow," and stepping towards the door which led to the adjoining bedrooms. She nearly fell over herself in her hurry to do so, and together they left the room and the others in a state of utter bewilderment.

  Somewhere on the Celestial Pne

  Menoche was enjoying herself. She would rather have fallen from godhood than admit it to anyone, but she actually found some of the shows and movies from the world their test champion had come from quite enjoyable. This test one was about a man willing to go to any lengths for justice, and she found it more fun than she would have expected to watch him sughter his way through hordes of enemies with advanced weaponry not to be found anywhere on Ruyanei; nor, she found from a quick peek, anywhere outside of fiction on Earth either.

  The episode ended with the man on the brink of confronting his family's killer, and Menoche grumbled to herself at this world's penchant for cliffhangers. She was about to begin the next episode when a decidedly alien sensation assaulted her nethers, making her squeak and almost fall off the comfortable divan she had sprawled herself on. It had been only a slight touch, a gentle tracing of her pussy lips, but her pussy had never before been touched by anyone other than herself. She almost vaporized the room and everything in it in retaliation against whoever had dared take such a liberty, but stopped when she realized she was alone. Even Carnachias, the first suspect in anything unusual, was currently enjoying the rape of some vilge girl by a mass of tentacles that had crawled from a dungeon somewhere in the east of Ruyanei, and she was too focused on that to have anything to do with the phantom touch of Menoche's slit. Whatever her other qualities, Carnachias would never have been able to hide her glee at Menoche's reaction had she been the perpetrator.

  Withdrawing her awareness from Carnachias' side of the Celestial Pne, she cautiously felt between her thighs, but found nothing at all unusual there. With no obvious solution to the mystery, or any clues at all really, she gave it up and was about to go back to her show when her pussy was again assaulted, this time by a soft, wet, and extremely skillful tongue.

  Her head flew back so hard it broke the back of the divan, though of course it caused her no pain and indeed, she barely noticed it. She tore her dress almost into shreds to try to get at the source of the sensation but even once her lower half was bare there was nothing to see or take hold of, just the sensation of a tongue teasing and licking, dipping into her folds and swirling about inside her, then withdrawing to flick her clit, causing bursts of pleasure to wrack the goddess' fwless body. She was sopping wet by the time the tongue withdrew and panting harder than she could ever remember doing before.

  Now thoroughly armed, she was about to go demand answers from Carnachias and was already marching across the floor towards the door when a new sensation made itself known. Something very warm and very hard was dragging itself across the outer folds of her bia, and the new sensation made her miss a step and fall full length on the floor. Before she could gather herself enough to get back to her feet it began to push itself inside, spreading her wide as it did so. Except, as her exploring fingers discovered, it wasn't spreading her wide at all. It merely felt as though she were slowly being split in two.

  It wasn't precisely comfortable, but that didn't matter, because the pleasure outweighed the discomfort by a thousand to one. At least. Her moans rang out, echoing around the room, and she prayed to the One Above All to keep Carnachias from peeking in to check on her, because there was no way she would be able to disguise her activities with the distraction that was currently rearranging her insides.

  And it truly was rearranging them. Once whatever it was came up against her womb, she panicked, thinking it was going to force its way inside, and with a burst of divine power she lengthened her love canal. But then the very next thrust it came up against her cervix again, so she moved her womb further up into her body. And again. And again. Her womb was nearly in her chest before she felt a new pressure against her bia and the intrusion paused.

  Then to her enormous relief (and a very small measure of regret that she entirely refused to acknowledge) it began to recede. All the way out until there was only an inch or so 'inside', then suddenly it thrust all the way back in. She screamed long and loud into the carpet she was still lying on, and dimly realized she was coming. But there was no time to dwell on that, because it was pulling out again and the sensation of it pulling out was indescribable. It seemed to grow ribs on the instant to drag against her walls and stimute every st nerve ending, just in case the absurd size of the thing wasn't doing a good enough job already. Then the thrust back in came and the ribs vanished, only to reappear on the very next withdrawal. Back and forth, back and forth, and she couldn't decide if she was in agony or in ecstasy. Was this what sex was like? If so, she never wanted it to end, but she also never wanted to feel it again. No wonder Carnachias couldn't stop talking about it if this was what it felt like.

  Her hips were rising to meet the thrusts now, even though nothing she did changed the sensations in any way. She was utterly helpless, a feeling she had not experienced in thousands of years, and it was maddening, yet she could not stop coming.

  Then the sensations changed. The cock, for she was convinced by this point that it could not be anything else, paused in her depths and she felt a bst of wet heat against her womb. The cock partially withdrew, then dived back in to press itself against her cervix as another bst painted her walls, or seemed to. Her hips jerked, grinding her nipples into the soft carpet as womanly instinct made her convulse around the phantom cock with yet another orgasm in an attempt to milk it dry.

  Then it was over. The cock withdrew, leaving the phantom sensation of the wet heat behind, and she became aware that her throat hurt. But almost immediately there was another tongue, just as skilled as the first, and she was back to moaning hoarsely into the carpet.

  When it was finally over and she had recovered her composure enough to think clearly, something which took far longer than she would have liked to admit, she decided never to tell anyone about the incident. Whatever it was that had just happened, she would not- could not admit it to Carnachias. There was no way her sister would ever let her live it down, not after the millennia she had spent ridiculing Carnachias for her love of sex. No, this event would be locked away in the recesses of her memory, never to be spoken of again. She had her suspicions as to the cause, but verifying them wasn't worth revealing what had happened to her twin.

  Nor could she admit, even to herself, just how much she had enjoyed it.

  TheBestofSome