A Perverted Path to Victory

Evie Brown

--------------------------------------------

In the time since she had first stood at the side of Sara Brown, Evie had grown firmly accustomed to a life without uncertainties. Sara was a confident, driven woman, with unshakeable goals and concrete plans to meet them. Evie followed in her wake, acting either in concert with her, or, on occasion, taking a private step to the side, when she felt a necessary measure would proceed better without her wives’ knowledge. As the keeper of her small family’s itinerary, personal safety, and general wellbeing, the occasions in which she did not know what was to come were very slim indeed.

She did not enjoy the change of pace.

“Hurlish,” Evie whispered, stepping into the tent. “Is Tahn asleep?”

“Nah, you’re good,” her wife said, stifling a yawn.

As Evie’s eyes adjusted to the interior of the dim canvas, she couldn’t help but smile. Hurlish was sitting in her rocking chair with their infant son cupped in an arm, wood creaking as she pushed back and forth. Her upper body was covered in the sweat of a day’s labor using her strength to ease the burden of others, but she’d made a point to wash her arms and chest. It wouldn’t do to have any of the grime rubbing off on Tahn.

Despite knowing perfectly well where her other wife was, Evie’s twitching ears and eyes took an instinctive scan of the tent. Sara was nowhere to be seen, of course. Her Blessings had brought a heated argument between pistol-wielding Imperial officers to her attention, and she’d rushed off to prevent the quarrel from reaching a lethal boil. Though the Imperial officers were trained to use the flintlock and cryslock pistols they bought from Hurlish, they didn’t yet seem to fully appreciate their lethality. Sara was concerned that a few more incidents of “deadlier than expected” duels would lead to a ban of their purchase throughout the army.

For Evie, the distraction was a small miracle. She’d not had time alone with Hurlish in two whole days. It was rare enough that she spent any time away from Sara’s side, and rarer still that she was with Hurlish without Sara. This was her first chance to speak to the second of her wives in private since she had her encounter with Mui.

Yet, for some reason, she hesitated. Hurlish glanced at Evie as she paused near the tent’s entrance, biting her lip with a single fang.

“Something up?”

“There is something that concerns me, yes.”

Hurlish’s eyes widened a touch. She stood, gently laying Tahn into his crib, then headed to her chest of clothes. “Alright. Sara should be back in a few minutes.”

Evie licked her lips. “It is something that I would rather discuss… without her.”

Hurlish, reaching for her shirt, froze. “Oh. Okay, then.” Her hand switched directions, moving toward the gun she kept near their bed.

“No, not in that manner,” Evie sighed. She walked over to Tahn’s crib, scooping the child into her own arms. He still had not grown into his ears. They were all beginning to doubt he ever would.

“What’s the deal, then?” Hurlish sat back down in her rocking chair, brow furrowed with concern.

Tahn made an indignant gurgling sound as Evie carried him back towards Hurlish, reaching out to tug at her hair. She placated him with a finger in his mouth, which he began to happily suckle on.

Evie fell into Hurlish’s lap, resting her head between her wife’s breasts.

“I have begun to fear that I have made a mistake.”

Hurlish’s thick arms curled around Evie, tucking her close. “What kinda mistake?” She asked cautiously. She wasn’t accustomed to seeing Evie so conflicted. That was fair. Evie wasn’t used to being conflicted, either.

“I…” Evie took a breath. “Could I ask you to not speak of it to Sara?”

Hurlish sucked in a breath. “Dunno about that, Kitty. Depends on a whole lot. I don’t like keeping secrets.”

Evie nodded. She understood. Though Evie had done a number of things behind her wifes’ backs, actions she remained convinced were for the good of her family, Hurlish was far more forthright. She did not keep secrets, and she did not avoid conflict. If there was an issue that required addressing, she would not hesitate to bring it up at the first opportunity. In many ways, Evie envied her for that.

“I suppose I can only ask that you don’t tell her, knowing the decision is yours,” she eventually said. She pursed her lips, steeling herself for the upcoming admission. “I… told Mui about one of Sara’s Blessings.”

Hurlish’s rocking slowed. She remained silent. Evie swallowed.

“The Blessing which elevates her lovers to her Level, to be precise,” she reluctantly clarified.

Hurlish stilled, absorbing this. After a moment, she let out a long, low whistle. Evie and Tahn’s ears flicked in irritation at the high-pitched noise, mirror images of one another.

“That’s a pretty bad one, Kitty.”

“I know,” Evie groaned. She snuggled deeper into the valley of Hurlish’s breasts, trying to hide from the mistake. “Nothing about it progressed as I expected.”

“What’d you expect?” Hurlish asked incredulously. “Sara’s gonna be pissed. I mean, you’ve heard her talkin’ about ‘power imbalances’ and shit, Evie. She won’t let a First Lieutenant get it on with a Second Lieutenant, even if they were banging before one got promoted, and you thought she was gonna be okay with something like that?”

“I did not,” Evie admitted, “but I thought that the conflict would resolve itself more rapidly. Mui is an honest, loyal man. I assumed he would go straight to Sara and reveal what I’d told him. Sara would be irate, of course, but the bridge would be built. With the two of them collaborating to discover the parameters of the Blessing, we would soon have a second Irregular of my caliber protecting her in battle. It would be worth her ire, I decided.”

“I mean, even if she did drop it that quick,” Hurlish reached out to brush Evie’s hair aside, pulling a few loose strands from Tahn’s mouth that their child had managed to begin sucking on, “you’re assuming that Sara wouldn’t just end things then and there. Or that Mui wouldn’t feel used by her, like Sara was just keeping him around to get another fancy soldier. That’d run him off, I bet.”

Evie frowned. “He would not think something so ridiculous. Sara was going to great lengths to keep the Blessing a secret; why would he think that she was being manipulative?”

“Kitty,” Hurlish said patiently. “Just think about it for a second. Not like a noble, but a peasant. Mui’s an army brat through-and-through. There’s nothing he’s more used to than having the higher-ups taking advantage of people like him for their own benefit.” Hurlish patted Evie’s leg fondly. “I know that in your world, people would probably be exchanging favors like that all the time or whatever. Keeping a secret like Sara’s Blessing wouldn’t make sense if you were some noble House tryna recruit someone, since it’d be such a big draw for them, so you naturally see keeping it all a big secret as proof that there Sara didn’t have any bad motives. But that’s not how us common people see it. We’re used to getting lied to, taken advantage of. Secrets are proof that you were tryna hide something bad.”

Evie’s gut twisted. Tahn stared up at her, blinking without understanding. She wondered if he could understand facial expressions yet. She forced a fake smile onto her face, just in case. She could do nothing for her anxious tone.

“Sara could convince him otherwise,” she argued. “She is the Champion of Amarat. That is what she specializes at.”

“Could she?” Hurlish countered. “Yeah, probably, if she’s willing to use her other Blessings. But she stopped using those on Mui weeks ago. She trusts him too much to ‘invade his privacy’ or whatever. And once there’s already that power stuff in play, she’s gonna hate the idea of using that crap even more than normal. So I’m not really sure if she could.” Hurlish took a deep breath. “Besides, Kitty. Mui’s a person, too. We both know that some people are so committed to what they believe that even Sara can’t change their mind. What if he’s one of those, huh?”

Evie shrank further into her wife, pinpricks of anxiety stabbing at her mind.

“Do you believe I have made an irrecoverable mistake, then? That I have ruined their relationship?” She licked her lips. “I… I respect Mui. I enjoy what he does for Sara. He reminds her of those who are still worth redeeming amongst a people she despises. I do not want him to leave her company. It would be… poor for her. She is better off with him in her company.”

“Irrecoverable?” Hurlish mumbled. She pressed a hand down atop Evie’s head, thick fingers rubbing at her scalp. It made Evie shiver. “No. I don’t think there’s anything you can do that would screw things up that bad. Sara knows what she’s about, and she’s a smart girl. Loves you too much, too. She can figure out how to get through things, if she really wants to.”

“And Mui?” Evie asked. “I violated Sara’s trust, and he knows it. Will he not trust me far less? Even if they do manage to achieve my goal of synchronizing their Levels, he will know that I have betrayed my wife. That is not something I sufficiently considered before making this decision.”

Hurlish laughed, careful to keep her amusement to a low rumble. It shook Evie’s entire body. “I hate to break it to you, Kitty, but the idea that you really do everything Sara says is a pretty busted myth. There’s no way that Mui actually thinks you’re her perfect, obedient little pet.”

That, more than anything else, twisted tightest in Evie’s gut.

“But I am,” she mumbled, looking away. “I just… have other activities I pursue, at times.”

“Yeah,” Hurlish laughed. “Just every now and then. Which is why we haven’t heard a peep from that criminal gang that was in Tulian since last year, almost like they dropped off the face of the world. Or why two Parliamentary Ministers who were arguing for an elected monarch ended up dying in midnight house fires. Or why that Imperial Colonel who was trying to have the Powdered Lead dismissed from service coincidentally ended up on the front line of every battle until she got shot. Or why–”

“I understand,” Evie hissed. “There is no need to continue.”

“I’m just saying, Kitty,” Hurlish said, continuing to scratch her scalp. “Sara might not know. I don’t think she does, actually. But that’s because she works pretty dang hard to turn a blind eye to the crap you pull. She likes you being independent or whatever. But Mui’s not that generous. I promise you, he already knew that you’ve got your own agenda.”

Evie huffed. Her finger was growing pruney from Tahn’s suckling, and his fangs were beginning to prick at her skin. She switched fingers.

“That is all well and good, but dear, what should I do? Should I force the issue? Sara has not yet interrogated Mui on his change in behavior, but it can’t last long. I doubt he will come to her bed, conflicted as he is, and that will be the final straw. No sane man would refuse her body. Once that happens, she will investigate further, if only out of concern for his wellbeing.”

Hurlish snorted. “Maybe. Maybe not. You’re right; Sara’s a darn good lay, so he might not be able to resist, and that’d buy you time. But if he does hold off, she’s gonna poke and prod until she figures out what’s up.” Hurlish’s fingers moved away from Evie’s scalp, toward her upper neck, thick fingernails scritching beneath her braids. “You’re not gonna like hearing this, but honestly, I think that the best move is to tell Sara yourself. Just tell her ‘hey, I screwed up, I’m sorry, how do you want me to help you fix this?’ Not the easiest thing to do, I know, but-”

“Absolutely not,” Evie stated firmly. “The crux of the plan was to have them discuss it themselves, beyond my influence. I know that they need to discuss it emotionally, not rationally, and that is not something I excel at.”

“You’re not a machine, Evie,” Hurlish interjected. “You don’t have to be an artifice engine all the time. Look at the way you’re holding Tahn.”

Evie glanced down. She had her son’s head gently cradled in one palm, keeping it at a comfortable angle by resting it against her thigh. Her other hand was slipped around Tahn’s left side, keeping him from rolling off her lap, pointer finger extended for him to take into his mouth. His fangs occasionally stabbed at her, a brief spot of pain that she barely noticed.

“Tahn is…” She felt a sudden need to clear her throat. “He is different. Much like you and Sara. I can feel things with you, with my family, that I have never known elsewhere.”

“But you can still feel it. Don’t sell yourself short, Evie.”

Evie would have frowned, if she were not looking down upon her infant son. It was impossible to feel truly perturbed with Tahn grinning goofily up at her, yet Hurlish’s supposition bothered her all the same. Unduly so. Evie did not view herself that way. What she had with her wives and son was unique. Precious. She didn’t feel that way about other people. She never had. She never would.

“Even if that is the case,” Evie said, cautiously moving on, “there is another mistake that I believe I may have made. In the way that I broached the topic of the Blessings.”

Nestled into her wife’s prodigious chest, Evie could feel the rumbling sigh of discontent that Hurlish tried to suppress.

“Alright. And that was?”

“I… may have implied that I believed romantic love to be a potential pre-requisite for Mui to receive Sara’s Blessings.”

“Oh, babe,” Hurlish groaned, giving her neck a frustrated squeeze. “Really? Really? Why’d you do that?”

“Because it is a theory I have,” Evie argued, even as she shrank slightly inward. “Thus far, you, myself, and Ketch are the primary benefactors of Sara’s Blessings. Vesta never benefitted, but that was most likely because she was a considerably higher Level than Sara until only recently, when they are no longer having frequent sexual contact.”

“You think Ketch loves Sara?” Hurlish asked. “I mean, really loves her?”

Evie made a face. “I believe that Ketch has shown a certain… dedication towards Sara. Or her body, at least.”

“That ain’t love, babe. And besides, remember how fast Ketch started getting her new Levels? It took, what, a week? Sure, she might’ve loved banging Sara, but she sure didn’t love her by then.”

“Which is why I only mentioned it as a potential pre-requisite,” Evie insisted, though her words were growing increasingly timid.

“Okay. What else did you suggest it could be?”

Evie pursed her lips. “There were… perhaps not all that many ideas offered as an alternative.”

Hurlish groaned audibly. Evie’s entire body tipped backward as the orc stretched out in her rocking chair, sending it to its furthest tilt yet. Evie reflexively clutched Tahn tighter, causing the boy to make a protesting babble.

Evie smiled at him. He was already making sounds, however nonsensical, at times appropriate for speech. She wondered how long it would be until his first word.

Hurlish curled back in, wrapping an arm around Evie once more.

“Well, I’ve decided I won’t tell Sara right away,” the orcish woman announced.

Evie sagged in relief. “Thank you.”

“But,” Hurlish said, using one hand to lift Evie’s braided hair. “That doesn’t mean you didn’t fuck up. Don’t pull this shit again. Understand me?”

“Don’t swear around Tahn–”

“Evie. Pay attention to me.”

Hurlish’s voice had lowered an octave. It sent chills through Evie’s body, and without the slightest degree of conscious thought, she snapped all her focus towards her wife’s face.

“You,” Hurlish said, tapping her on the nose. “Fucked up. Some of the shit you do, you do because you’re convinced you need to in order to keep us safe. Sara and I’ll turn a blind eye to that, alright? But you don’t screw with her relationships, okay?”

Evie shrank. Being punished by Hurlish, particularly in earnest, was something that should have been a fantasy for her. If she didn’t have Tahn in her arms, her thighs would likely have already been slick. But the grounding presence of their child served as an anchor to the severity of the situation: this was true, honest discipline, not anything sexual. Hurlish was genuinely angry with her. For perhaps the first time Evie could remember.

The depth of guilt that sank into Evie’s belly, molten lead burning and bubbling in her core, was utterly alien to her. Her mother’s harshest punishments had never inspired a fraction of the regret that Hurlish’s disapproving glare now tortured her with. She felt tears prick at her eyes.

“I am… I am sorry,” she whispered.

“I know. It’s okay.” Hurlish brushed a hand down Evie’s hair. “It’s alright. Sara’s gonna be mad when she finds out. But that’s it. She’ll just be mad. Maybe y’all will argue, maybe you’ll walk different ways to cool off, but that’ll be it.”

“But I… if you’re right, and I made such a…” Evie suddenly wished to be rid of Tahn. She didn’t want her son to be in her lap at that moment. “She cares for Mui. I should not have…”

“Look. Look at me, Evie.”

Evie did.

Without warning, cool steel slipped around her neck. The collar clicked into place around Evie’s throat, a band of control shimmering onto Hurlish’s wrist.

“You’re not used to feeling bad about something. I get that. So you’re gonna sleep on it. I want you to wake up eight hours from now. Now go to sleep.”

The collar pulsed Obedience into her mind before she could muster a reaction. She briefly tried to fight it, to insist that she’d ensured she’d gotten at least five hours of sleep each of the last four days, but even the broken collar injected sluggish drowsiness into her veins. Evie was too conditioned to Obey her wives. She didn’t think she was capable of even wanting to disobey their orders anymore.

And so she fell asleep, Hurlish’s palm carefully keeping Tahn tucked into her lap.

--------------------------------------------

Ketch

--------------------------------------------

She woke up at a strange time, in a strange place, without any recollection of how she’d gotten there. She was standing upright, feeling perfectly awake, and Sara was staring at her with a very peculiar expression.

“I mean, thanks, I guess…” Sara said, only to trail off as she inspected Ketch. “Oh. Sorry. Welcome back, Ketch.”

Dizzied not by any bodily reaction, but simple confusion, Ketch looked left and right, trying to place herself. She found that she was in the middle of the Imperial Army, which was doused in the golden glow of a setting sun. Several officers were sitting contritely on a nearby log, sporting the bruises of blunt impacts across their faces. A pile of broken pistols sat before them, which Sara was standing just beside.

The last thing Ketch remembered, it had been nighttime. In Ta-Pet. Well before the army had been prepared to leave the city. It was as if she had done nothing more than blink between the two moments.

“Um, Sara?” She asked. “Where are we?”

The woman’s eyes narrowed with concern. “Damn, she did a number on you this time, didn’t she?”

“Who? Selly?”

“Yeah.” Sara slipped something she was holding behind her back, putting it into a pouch. In the brief glance Ketch caught, it seemed like a large, blue-painted children’s doll. “She’s been using you to work on a project. Did she not let you, like, pilot her body around while she was in yours?”

“No. At least, I don’t think so.” Ketch’s brow furrowed as she tried to think back. Though she’d first thought the time had passed without anything of note, her struggling mind began to dredge up hazy memories. Actually, she wasn’t even sure if she could call them memories. They were more… impressions. Like the remnants of heat left on the skin after one released a boiling cookpot, but throughout her entire body.

Pleasure. A haze of it, flowing in and out of lungs she didn’t have. Her innermost self, divorced from the body it knew, left floating in the warm waters of nothing, nowhere. Gentle, lapping waves against her skin, constantly caressing her. A dazed, content smile gracing her faceless self. Ignorant of any and everything, the passage of time most of all.

A loud snapping noise startled Ketch. She blinked several times, though her eyes were already open, and found Sara standing much closer to her, one arm outstretched to put fingers right up against her ear.

“Alright, apparently you weren’t totally locked up,” Sara said. “Just out of it, I guess.” She huffed irritably. “I swear, Selliana. You’ve got to figure out some lines you won’t cross. I know there aren’t many of them, but at least get some kind of limit. It’d make me feel better.”

“It wasn’t a big deal. How long was I out?” Ketch asked.

“What’s the last thing you remember?”

“The roofs of Ta-Pet, at night. Before the army was ready to move.”

Sara sighed. “Three days, then. That’s how long it’s been since I last saw you, at least.”

Ketch hummed curiously. She knew Sara would rather have her be concerned about the lost time, but she wasn’t. Nothing bad had come of it, clearly. And Selliana wouldn’t put her in danger.

“Do you know what she was using my body for?” Ketch asked. “If it took three whole days, it must have been important.”

For some reason, Sara chuckled. “I do know. And I guess you’d consider it pretty important.”

“What was it, then?”

Sara grinned wickedly. “Not gonna tell you. You’ll figure it out soon enough, I think.”

Ketch scratched her cheek, looking around once more. No one was close enough to easily overhear, but there were plenty of people in an army with extraordinary senses. She leaned closer to Sara, whispering.

“Should I be worried?”

“Worried? No, I don’t think so. But you might want to get somewhere private in the next, oh,” Sara glanced toward the falling sun, “thirty minutes or so? Yeah, that sounds about right. Unless something else like–” Sara turned her head and raised her voice, “–THESE MORONS,” she turned back around, “comes up again. But I doubt that’ll happen.”

Then Sara grinned, looking down. At Ketch’s chest.“Oh. And I think you might want to ask your girlfriend to be more picky about your outfits. That’s a pretty bold one, even for you.”

With a shock of alarm, Ketch became scathingly aware of the breeze rippling across her body. Humid and warm, yet no less chilling for it, she could feel the air on her legs, her thighs, her stomach, and… her chest.

Too much of her chest.

Ketch looked down.

Since she’d found herself following Sara, Ketch had mostly abandoned the cloaks she’d used to hide her preferred underwater clothing. She’d once been afraid that it looked far too much like land-dweller’s undergarments (because it did), but Sara had slowly chipped away at that insecurity. She’d become more confident in her body.

Not confident enough to go topless, though.

She was wearing what could only generously be called a loose collection of shredded strings. There was just enough left of her former top to make it clear to an observer that there used to be something covering her breasts, but it had been lost to constant overuse. A firm gust or sufficiently large roll over her shoulders would toss the last of the tatters entirely away.

Looking further, Ketch realized that she wasn’t wearing pants, either. Not anything that could be called pants in the traditional sense, at least. The freshly-skinned hide of some unidentifiable beast was wrapped around her hips, its tail fed through its mouth and out a hole in its forehead, where a knot was tied. Dried blood caked her legs, with the last few fresh droplets still being squeezed out as she turned her body.

“If it helps,” Sara said as Ketch’s heart began to pound, “everybody pretty much took you for a fucked-up witch at first sight and mostly just scattered out of your way.” Sara flashed her an evil grin. “Think you can do a good enough Selly impression to give off those same vibes?” She leaned close, whispering into Ketch’s ear. “Or are they gonna realize there’s a cute azarketi girl walking around with her pretty little tits out?”

With all the speed and grace she could muster, Ketch fled. Her feet flew across the ground as she darted toward the deepest shadow she could find– the lee of a tent opposite a cookfire.

Sara’s ringing laughter chased her into the cool embrace of darkness, her Classes’ senses thankfully telling her that she’d thrown off all the buzzing gnats of wandering eyes.

She stood in the deep shade for a long while, breathing hard. She cast her mind outward, toward Selly, accompanying it with a demand.

Why did you leave me like this?!

All she got in response was a faint, echoing laugh.

Ketch swallowed hard, looking around. Shadows clung to her like tar and oil, but the sun was still in the sky. Anyone with a high Level or an interest in walking by the tent could, if they drew close enough, see her.

She opened her mouth to call out at Sara, demanding a change of clothes, but the armored woman was already gone. Ketch could see her in the distance, humming a happy little tune as she abandoned Ketch to her torment.

Then, as if all the world was not already crashing down around her, the pelt around her waist squirmed.

Ketch yelped, grabbing the thing’s tail and jerking hard, undoing the knot. The writhing carcass fell to the ground with a wet slap, still undulating. Like an insect with a crushed head, it didn’t yet seem aware that it was nothing more than the suit once worn by a real creature.

The sudden movement had, of course, thrown off the last tatters of her ruined top. That was almost a blessing, she quickly decided. It was one thing to be blatantly naked, another to be seen trying and failing to conceal herself.

The blood coating her lower body from the waist-down might help too, she hoped. The Empire was composed of a population as superstitious as any other; if Ketch saw a naked, blood-soaked woman walking straight through the camp with head held high, her first and only thought would be getting out of the creature’s way. Certainly not ogling it.

The laughter in her mind grew louder.

Ketch watched with horror as, against her will, the blood began to slide down her legs. The dried patches flaked and cracked, then melted back to liquid, shimmering in the shadows as they joined the rest of their brethren in slipping off her feet.

Then, with a sudden crackle of even louder laughter, almost as if in response to a comment Ketch couldn’t hear, something else began to change. Her scalp began to itch terribly, overwhelmingly so, and when she went up to scratch it, she met black hair far sooner than she had.

Ketch froze as she felt her hair, always kept boyishly cropped in what Sara called a ‘buzzcut’, began to tangle outward. In a matter of seconds, it was brushing against her shoulders, and it wasn’t yet stopping. She snagged a strand and held it up to her eyes in disbelief, watching it twist and curl, gaining a shining lustre that only the wealthiest of noblewomen could have afforded to maintain.

You wouldn’t think of doing this to me. You’re talking to her right now, Ketch accusingly thought at Selly. How are you talking to Sara without me?

I would not worry about that at the moment, Guppy, Selliana purred. What I would worry about is that nice woman over there who’s about to be coming your way.

What do you mean-

Against her will, Ketch’s hands rose up to cup her mouth. She took a deep breath and, despite her struggle to prevent it, shouted out.

“Hey! Come look over here!”

The woman’s head snapped up, looking around in confusion. She was an Imperial soldier, fully kitted out, probably searching for her squad’s circle of tents.

Why? Ketch pleaded.

Because I do so love toying with my Guppy, Selliana whispered. And the Champion’s manner of play is delightfully inventive.

Ketch pressed her back against the tent as the Imperial woman began walking her way, eyes squinting in confusion.

“Who said that? Tara, was that you?”

Ketch had no choice. She waited until the woman’s scanning had her turn around, then darted away.

Peeling herself from the shadows was almost more terrifying than losing her clothing in the first place. Her every Skill was pulsing through her mind as she dashed forward, struggling to drag as much of the nearby shadows toward her skin as she could.

The teasing buzz of eyes on her skin struck her like hammer blows. She was fast; faster than anyone could have been expecting. But she was also naked. Sprinting through an open camp.

Feeling a sudden drop in the eyes flicking towards her as she blurred by, Ketch slid into the shadow of a second tent, breathing hard, eyes wild.

She looked left and right, trying to see if anyone had truly noticed her. She saw a man splitting wood blinking in confusion at the space she’d occupied a moment before, and a woman pausing in the middle of a sentence, appearing bewildered.

Then, to her utmost relief, they began to return to their activities. The thwack of an axe hitting a log and the boring chatter of soldier’s talk had never filled her with so much relief.

Ketch brushed off her bare thighs, knocking aside the dust and clumps of ill-placed shadows that clung to her. The darkness was slowly deepening, thank the gods. Soon, she would have many more options to hide. If night fell properly, she felt confident she could traverse the entire camp without fear of discovery.

What a shame that Sara suggested you be somewhere private by nightfall, Guppy, Selly teasingly rasped.

Ketch bit back a whining curse.

You don’t even care about sex! Why are you helping her with this?

Instead of a worded response, Selly’s reply came in a flood of emotions. Ketch’s eyes fluttered as the melting pot of a foreign mind poured into hers, thoughts and emotions mixing until they overwhelmed her own.

Amusement. Selly was so terribly amused by this. Like a cat watching the mouse try and flee the shuttered alleyway, her Guppy had no true way to escape the teasing prods.

Pride sat beside that amusement. Watching her Guppy fly across the camp, slipping through the eyes of alert guards, sniffing watchdogs, and countless individuals milling about the place? It was exquisite. Though the honing of her most beloved tool was more owed to the influence of the Divine, the girl was hers still. She was proud of that.

Beneath it all, perhaps the base supporting the sprouting tree, was a simple mercantile satisfaction. A well-made, satisfying deal. Opportunity for opportunity, goods for service. Were it involving anything less than her Guppy, it would have been unremarkable, but as it was, she was satisfied in the same way children were when they acquired new clothes for their dolls. Her Guppy would play well tonight.

In her own body, from her own face, Ketch let out a long-suffering sigh. She was being played with, then. Sara would be the lover poking and teasing her, while Selly played the role of a cat batting around a mouse too loyal to know better. How lovely.

She did her best to ignore the growing slickness between her thighs.

The sunset would not wait for Ketch to recover her bearings, unfortunately. She was on a timer, and she’d awoken very far up the column. Her tent was well in the rear of the army, though she couldn’t say how she knew where to go in the first place.

Taking a deep, steadying breath, Ketch scanned her immediate surroundings. The soldiers and camp workers nearest her were sitting around a fire, waiting for the evening meal to be ready. Only a few souls were moving through the tent-city’s thin alleys and slightly wider roads.

There was nothing to be done for it, Ketch quickly decided. She was used to creeping through the tight confines of a city home, the shady streets beyond, or the shadowed foliage of the jungle beyond. An empty, well-lit road was a challenge for even her.

And what is with this? She groaned, feeling her hair continue to grow. It was down to her lower back, now. Any longer and she would have to start holding it in a fist just to keep it out of her way as she ran, and the growth was showing no signs of slowing.

Ketch took one last moment to scan her surroundings before taking a long, slow breath, inhaling as much of the darkness as she could. The tent’s shadow grew brighter. Ketch’s blue skin deepened, swirls of inky black crawling up her limbs in whirlpool eddies. There was precious little to draw from in so meagre a shadow. By the time she’d drawn in all she could, the darkness coated her to elbows and knees only.

On silent feet and a held breath, Ketch burst forth. Her bare feet fell on the mud without sinking an inch, every step firm as stone. The wind whipped through her growing hair, tossing it out behind her.

She did not think as she ran. The narrow gaps between tents were too many to count, too frequent to anticipate. She listened to the patter of heartbeats and the clink of armor, darting left and right to avoid each, taking turns on little more than undefined instinct.

She soon learned that she could not avoid everyone. Turning a corner at a dead sprint, she was forced to skid to a harsh stop, staring at the back of a man too still and calm for her senses to have warned her of. It was terrifying enough that she lost control of her thudding heart. As she fought to arrest her momentum, feet skipping and bumping over the mud, her mind taunted her with awful awful images. Of an Imperial soldier turning around to see Ketch, her body laid bare, wide-eyed and panicked. Of their attention falling to her heaving chest, then to the joining of her legs, where an unbearably embarrassing slickness lay, glistening in the evening light. She was tortured by the fear of being caught, inarguably and inexplicably naked. Ketch was not unknown to the Empire; the General and his staff had seen her on occasion, when Sara wished to reveal or reiterate that Tulian had an agent even they couldn’t track. It had been fun then, to taunt the Imperials with her Skills. She’d never imagined that she’d so intensely wish none of them had ever learned her face.

The man did not turn around. Ketch backpedaled as hard as she could, holding her breath, not even letting her skin brush against itself as she flung herself into a hasty, nearly all-fours retreat. She curved around the tent she’d first passed, only to see an even worse sight: a wall of washmaids heading down the path, carrying enough freshly laundered baskets to block any chance of her slipping past.

Ketch darted even further off the course she’d planned, throwing herself into the cool embrace of a leaning tent’s pale shadow. Some cruel bastard had already lit a torch nearby, which left her barely enough light to hide in. Even the lowest-Level of guard or other attentive soul could spot her.

Oh, I do apologize, Sellie’s voice rasped in her mind, I believe the Champion is growing a touch impatient. I trust you will stand strong, Guppy.

Ketch was trying to ask for an explanation when one was provided for her.

She yelped as a sudden pressure landed on her pelvis. Covering a large swathe of skin, from hip bone to hip bone, but soft in an awfully familiar way, it sent her falling to her quivering knees. Ketch bit a knuckle to silence herself as that pressure slid downward, along her hips, which she discovered were instinctively bucking upward into the phantom sensation, trying to draw it lower–

Only for it to disappear.

Ah, how lovely, Sellie’s ancient voice purred. It works exactly as I hoped. I will leave you to your play, Guppy.

Ketch flailed in panic as Sellie’s presence fully retreated from her mind. She tried to drag her girlfriend back, but it wasn’t as if she had any real power over the witch. In a matter of moments, she was completely alone.

Gaining control of her trembling legs, Ketch clambered to her feet yet again. She didn’t know how far she was from her tent. She had only a vague idea of its location. But she did know how long it was until night fell: not nearly long enough.

Gods give me strength.

She couldn’t run anymore. No matter how much the adrenaline-fueled panic wanted her to sprint directly back to safety, it wasn’t going to work. She had to take things slowly. Calmly. Methodical.

Ketch stepped out of the shadows. There was no one to see her at the moment. She strained her senses as she began walking firmly forward, eyes and ears searching for any possible obstacle.

As she walked, it became clear that this was by far the best strategy. She could hear others with so much more time to spare, allowing her to slip down different paths or, if necessary, hide in the shadows once more.

But walking was so, so much worse. It shattered the protective illusion that she hated her treatment. She could feel her legs brushing together as she walked, dripping wetness smeared with every step. She could not understand her own body’s reaction. The idea of being caught terrified her. It was the last thing she could ever want.

So why did the thought make her belly clench with white-hot need?

It was not long until the teasing began again. It came first as an inexplicable whisper of hot breath on the back of her neck, as if someone’s lips were hovering mere millimeters away from her body. That sensation moved lower, down her bare back, rustling the hair that now covered her there. She could feel it roll and steam against her skin, sending shivers up and down her spine.

A phantom palm cupped her cheek. As she slipped past a busy, raucous cookfire, it tried to turn her head upward, fingers pressing into her cheeks.

Against her will, her lips split. An invisible intruder began to prod its way into her mouth, rubbing against her gums, feeling the texture of her tongue. It pulled and prodded, leaving Ketch dizzy with needy arousal that demanded she open her jaw wider to accept more, no matter how much she knew there was nothing there at all. She was breathing hard, panting, practically, as she traipsed through the army.

The phantom intruder retreated from her mouth for a moment. By then, Ketch felt certain that she knew who it was. So she wasn’t surprised when fingernails scraped across scale and skin, tickling her jaw, throat, and collarbone, before coming to circle her tiny breasts.

Oh, gods no, she whined.

She dove into a shadow just before a sharp pluck announced itself on one of her nipples, tugging it upward. The sound she let out was a half-groan, half-whimper. She instinctively tried to cover her chest for protection, but it didn’t matter. She could still feel the distant hands rubbing and prodding at her, feeling up her body from gods-knew-where.

Not fa-a-ar to go, Ketch tried to reassure herself, even as a sudden return to her thighs sent her stumbling over herself. The touch wasn’t even high, just a simple rubbing up and down the skin just above her knee, but she was already afire with arousal. There was no part of her body that wasn’t sensitive to the touch.

The final leg towards her tent was one she took in a fugue state. Her mind was warring against the implacable teasing of her body, trying to steer her forward, forward, avoiding the slowly-thinning crowds. The army’s nighttime curfew, which expected every soldier to be at their tent come nightfall, was a mixed blessing. With every sign of the camp’s activity thinning out, she became more and more aware that her time was running out.

And more eager for it.

By the time her mind told her that a particular, unremarkable tent was her own, she was a shivering, dripping mess. Her knees were pressed together, trying to hide from the slow rubbing of too many hands. Both breasts were being teased by different hands, one larger than the other, while something she couldn’t identify had been slipped between her legs. It was soft and rubbery, pressed tightly to her sex, and it would occasionally drag back and forth, never fast enough to provide real satisfaction, but far more than enough to have her clenching down on nothing.

Ketch all but fell through the front flap of a tent that she did not recognize. She didn’t even know if she’d kept hidden as she walked into the Powdered Lead’s camp; she could hear voices, close ones, but her muddled mind couldn’t make out words.

She didn’t care. The paraphernalia hanging from the tent’s walls more than marked it as her own. The work of Sellie was hung from every surface, animal skins and bottles and clumps of acid-eaten hair. What was clearly a long slice of Ketch’s own skin was hanging above a small, smoky lantern, being dried into something like jerky. Herbs of all varieties filled the air with scents she could never name, but told her of only one thing:

Selliana.

Home.

Ketch’s body folded into her bed roll face-first, her limbs abandoning the vast efforts they’d been exerting to avoid melting into uselessness. She fumbled with one hand, reaching desperately towards the joining of her legs in search of some kind of relief.

Only to bump into something solid and leathery.

“Mmhuh?”

Ketch looked down. Somehow, impossibly, she was wearing pants. Simple leather breaches. Scandalously short, covering less than a palm’s width of her upper thighs, but decidedly not naked.

Drunkenly, Ketch reached for her chest. What she found wasn’t quite bare, but it was… close. Rather than the tatters that she’d thought she’d lost from the stadt, her usual top was present, but shoved up to expose her tits to any who wished to look. It was almost worse, she reflected. If she'd been caught, they would have thought she was deliberately exposing herself to them.

“Y-you’re meeeeaaan,” Ketch groaned into her bed.

All the Champion’s idea, Guppy, Sellie chuckled. But I suppose I am at fault, too. Did you really expect me to leave you without our dagger? Of course not. Yet it is so much fun to see what I can and can’t pluck out of that beautiful little skull of yours.

Ketch giggled for only a moment, right before her fingers finally slipped beneath her sopping pants and sent lightning down her legs.

She collapsed even harder into the bed. Her neck was twisted at an awkward angle, shoulders slumped to the thin cotton, but her ass was sticking straight into the air, knees spread, all so she could better expose herself to her own touch.

When is she going to staaaart? Ketch whined. It’s nighttime, it has to be! Why’s she being so–

Her teeth latched onto her pillow as an animalistic groan tried to spill from her. Sara, and it could only be Sara, had spent so awfully long testing Ketch. Ghostly sensations twisting her nipples, tickling her ribs, caressing her ass and brushing against her clit, occasionally spreading her lower lips and slipping a finger inside, but none of it had been enough. She needed more. Sara knew what she needed.

Ketch’s jaw obediently flexed wide as her nerves burned with the sensation of Sara’s cock slipping between her lips. Her eyes rolled back into her head, her whines stutter-stopping, legs shaking like leaves in an autumn breeze. She made strange, ragged gasps as she tried to suck on something that wasn’t really there, trying to draw it into her mouth, down her throat.

Sara wasn’t listening. She didn’t know if the Champion was the slightest bit aware of what she was doing to Ketch. It wouldn’t have mattered, anyway. Sara would use her as she pleased, and it was Ketch’s divine fortune that she was lucky enough to be used.

The feeling of a cock bumped against the end of her throat. Ketch’s gag reflex had been banished long ago, but without anything actually blocking her reflexive moans, she could hear in all its glory the mewling delight that had replaced the sounds of choking. It filled her tent, bouncing from wall to wall, and she found herself praying to Sellie that her girlfriend had sound-proofed the walls, because she wouldn’t be able to control herself in the slightest.

“Nhghhhyesss…!” She whined, her words warped by her mind’s insistence that Sara’s thick, throbbing cock was lodged down her throat. She felt the spear of heat shoving further and further, thick enough that it was a struggle to keep her eyes open, so far was she opening her jaw.

“Wnwnah it,” she gasped senselessly, “wnanaaah tasthe it.”

Her tongue kept slapping at the cock that she knew so well, trying to caress it exactly how her Mistress had trained her to, but it was a useless effort. All she yielded was a growing puddle of drool on her bedroll, one that was rubbed up and down her face as her still-raised ass animalistically humped her fingers.

She was trying to cum. She was trying so hard. The fingers of one hand rubbed and circled at her clit as fast as they could, another pumping in and out. There was still that sensation of something pressed between her thighs, large and rubbery, but it wasn’t really there, wasn’t something she could grind against–

Like the rumble of distant thunder, it began to buzz.

Ketch collapsed, the last of her body’s strength stolen from her. There was no way for her to keep herself up, no way to do anything but lay on the floor and writhe, not when she was gasping around the cock straight down her throat, not when something between her legs was humming and buzzing and turning her entire body to quivering jelly.

“Mmmmiiiisssssaarraa…!”

It wasn’t anything like she’d felt before. Not her fingers, not the tongues of others, not even Noctie’s intoxicating venom hungrily dripping onto her clit, none of it was like what she felt then. Maybe some of it was as good, maybe some of it was better, but this was wholly new, beyond anything she’d ever imagined. The pounding vibration stole up every thought from her mind and drowned it in giddy delirium, until her moans and mewls and cries shifted from one to the other, back and forth, one to the other, her tongue and throat too lost in the thick of it all to do anything coherently, much less together.

And gods, her throat! The cock kept slipping in, deeper and deeper, so large that it should have hurt, that it should have been bulging her throat until it burned, but there was none of that: just the sensation of what could be, just the pleasure, just the tightness of her body squeezing down, welcoming Sara’s cock into its rightful place. She didn’t know if Sara could feel what she was doing, in fact she doubted it very much, but her body didn’t seem to care. It bobbed and swallowed and licked, lapping in slavish obedience to the instrument of her joy, trying to give that beautiful, wonderful cock even a fraction of what it was giving her.

The buzzing pressed tighter against her. She cried out, so far gone that she expected her scream to be muffled,l by cock, only to hear her spittle-garbled joy echoing in the tent around her, and still she didn’t care. The buzzing grew closer and closer, grinding against her clit, a thousand little pops of static that rippled up and down her hips, stomach, tits, and all the way down to her legs, to her curled toes and interlocked ankles.

The cock in her throat began to thrust faster. Her sudden inhale was one of absolute elation, because she knew what was coming. She began to pray, pray, pray to Sellie, begging her to give her at least this– that if she couldn’t taste the cock fucking her throat, she should at least be allowed this, the final reward.

Oh, Guppy, Sellie thought, her words awash with fondness. Do you doubt my love for you?

Sara’s cock stopped. Buried itself. Ketch could feel it stretching her throat wide, its tip at the very end of her throat.

It began to throb.

She tasted it.

She tasted it.

Sara’s cum began to pour down her, filling her, splashing into her, coating her throat in liquid ecstasy. Ketch’s body first began to tremble, then thrash, every limb tightening in on itself as she bucked up into the open air, grinding against that invisible vibration as hard as she could. Tongues fell on her breasts, both of them, licking and lapping and nipping, while her long hair was suddenly swept up from behind and tangled into a knot, shoving some distant version of her head to bury the cock further.

Ketch cried out. She didn’t know what she said. She only knew it was supposed to be a prayer of thanks. She felt strings spurting out of Sara’s cock, one after the other, each another blazing line of ecstasy. She held her bow-tight pose for one second, two, three, longer, and then suddenly collapsed, not because her climax was over, but because it had robbed her muscles of every drop of strength that was left.

Ketch lay there, shivering, swallowing, grinning, for gods-knew how long. Probably only a few minutes. When she was lost like that, it could have been hours. She didn’t really care. It was pleasure too great to be flawed. The world was perfect. She was perfect. They had perfected her.

Ketch’s eyes began to flutter. Sleep rushed up in a great wave, sweeping her consciousness away. She felt phantom nails, withered and ancient, begin to scrape at the bone of her skull, drawing little circles. The air around her faded, replaced with the warm waters of her home, her pillow becoming Sellie’s thighs.

And you say that you will do this to her whenever I ask? Selliana rasped.

O-oh, sure, Sara gasped back. It was. Uh. Plenty of fun. Appreciate it.

She will enjoy it. Thank you. And… Sellie’s voice took on a rare tone. One of contrition. Humility, even. I thank you for allowing me to see your Divinity. To have it channeled through her, by arts of my own hands, has… taught me much. More than I think that you would prefer.

Well, Sara mumbled, thoughts as tired as Ketch’s, I nutted pretty hard there. So, uh, worth it, I guess. Just… don’t be too fucked up with it, please?

Sellie hesitated. I will… I will draw up a binding contract. To ensure that your grace is not misplaced.

Sara’s thoughts rebounded with laughter. To hear the Champion of Passion laughing in her own mind was a wonderful, wonderful thing. A climax unto itself. Ketch’s face took on a dopey grin.

Don’t trust yourself that much, huh?

No. Before her, morals were a… forgotten thing. Lost to my isolation. And your soul is more alien than any other. Sellie’s thoughts firmed, her decision made. I will prepare a binding assurance. If only to ensure the opportunity to study things such as this once more.

Mm’kay, Sara said tiredly. Let me know when you get that done. Evie and Garen’ll go over it, I guess.

The foreign thoughts retreated from Ketch’s mind. Amidst the swirling haze of her absolution, she wondered why Sellie had let her hear it.

It didn’t matter. Not as she sank lower and lower, letting the world fade around her. Her body was still shivering, shaking, and every brush of cotton fibers against her body was another small delight. She only needed to–

“Ketch?” A loud, firm knock repeated itself on her tent pole. “It is Mui Thom. I know we have not spoken much, but I have something important to ask of you.”

Visit and read more novel to help us update chapter quickly. Thank you so much!