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  Sara Brown

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  It was well past sundown when Sara finished her half-tour, half-inspection of the city’s industry. She hadn’t lied to Mui when she said he wouldn’t slow down her work. It also wasn’t her fault that he failed to ask if she’d changed what she was going to inspect that day. There were certain things she wanted him, and by extension, the people who would be doubtlessly interrogating him on his return to the Empire, to understand about Tulian. Agricultural import/export ratios weren’t one of them.

  At the end of it all, rather than her own house, her aching feet trudged their way up the steps to the very st visit of the day, after Mui had been deposited with his squad. Her and Evie’s meeting with Vesta was likely to be a bit more interesting than most. She knocked twice on the door, waited all of a half second, then threw it open.

  “Hey Vesta! Evie and I are here!”

  Tomun, Vesta’s ever-loyal butler, was halfway to the door. He frowned, haughtily putting his back to Sara as he bustled away.

  “Colred or not?” Vesta called from a distant room.

  “Uh-” Sara turned around to ask Evie, only to get hit in the face by the colr’s control band. It vanished into smoke as it made contact with her skin, rematerializing on her wrist. The colr was already on Evie’s neck, locked firmly into pce, the padlock dangling with its inscription of Whore facing proudly outward.

  “-Colred, apparently!”

  “Oh, thank goodness,” Vesta said, her words trailing off into a relieved sigh. “Tomun, put your earplugs back in!”

  “As you wish, madam,” the elderly butler crisply called, following the order with the same utter ck of emotion that he did everything else. As Sara passed the man, she stared straight into his eyes, straining her every Blessing.

  He stared back, face empty.

  How the FUCK does he always do this? Sara raged. She made a point to keep her face equally impassive, but deep inside, she was infuriated. More than a year she’d spent in this world, and this old, balding butler remained the only person she couldn’t read.

  His retort to her btant investigation was to silently pick up a broom, sweeping away the miniscule amount of dirt that had followed Sara and Evie in.

  Sara made her way to the rear rooms of the house, gncing about as she went. Vesta’s sons had recently moved out, to be nearer to the Peasant’s Theatre, and the extra space had been put to… particur uses.

  She passed a half-closed door and tapped it open with a knuckle, leaning in to inspect the darkness. Glints of iron chains and leather whips greeted her.

  She smirked. Industry was the most obvious change Sara had brought to Tulian, but some select few knew it had taken a lot less time for her to revolutionize the world of BDSM.

  She shut the door and made sure it tched, for the sake of Vesta’s sons. She didn’t like the whiny little assholes, but no one deserved to stumble into a faceful of their mother’s gimp suit.

  “I will be with you shortly, Master,” Evie said, drawing Sara’s attention away. The feline was already shirtless, her breasts bared, and she was halfway through pulling her pants to her ankles.

  Sara wondered if Evie understood just how much that simple, trusting dispy of nudity did for her, even after so many months of depravity. The trust it implied, the depth of their connection. That the sight of Evie dressing each morning was more intoxicating than any amount of time she’d spent on her knees.

  The scene had already begun, however, so instead of voicing those sappy thoughts, Sara said, “Say hi to Oddry for me,” right as her palm impacted Evie’s ass. There was enough force behind it that Evie was driven face-first into the wall, gasping, clothes clutched to her trembling chest.

  “T-thank you, Master,” Evie breathed.

  Sara continued down the hallway while Evie split off, bright-red ass slipping into the kitchen. Sara caught a brief glimpse of Oddry at the stove, ankles and wrists in shackles, and then the door shut.

  Sara entered the plush withdrawing room at the rear of the house, the only space that had been decorated by the st remnants of Vesta’s once-absurd wealth. After she’d escaped from Sporatos, Vesta had sold nearly everything she’d salvaged. She’d dismissed her servants, auctioned her jewelry, and trimmed her dress collection from a thousand to a dozen. All that was left of her old wealth had been condensed into this one room, and only the absolute pinnacle of quality had been worth preserving.

  Thick, luxuriously soft rugs were spread across the floor, each dyed a dozen different vibrant colors. Walking on them felt like Sara’s feet were being massaged, and no amount of debauchery had ever managed to stain them the slightest bit. The chests and drawers sitting around the room were made of rich, shining wood, dark enough to check her reflection in. The former noblewoman was reclining across a sofa of even more absurd decadence, its glittery velvet cushions stuffed with only the finest of geese down, every soft inch covered by an elegant portrait of intimately intertwining rose petals. The sofa was infused with tiny, amber-wrapped gemstones, enchanted to keep every feather and every drop of dye intact for centuries to come. That sofa was one of the few amenities that Sara had to admit couldn’t be beat by any amount of technology; no spill, fme, or knife could so much as dent it, yet it was soft as a cloud. Centuries after everyone she knew was dead, that damned sofa would live on, perfect as the day it was made.

  Yet as Sara slipped her jacket off her shoulders and her boots from her feet, even as she felt the plush carpeting and smelled the aged wood, she thought the most beautiful thing in the room was the woman that it was all meant to serve.

  Vesta, née Lady Aurora Vesta, was id across her luxurious sofa, a book in one hand, the stem of a winegss pinched in the other. She was dressed in a silk robe so thin that she may as well have been naked with the way it clung to her every curve and twist. Her voluminous auburn hair was still damp from the bath, id out across the armrest to dry in the open air.

  Vesta had a woman’s body, not a girl’s. Vesta had borne three children before she’d turned twenty, and it had been twenty long years since then. Her breasts were not some farcical pubescent dream, perky and taut beyond her years. They were rge enough to have drooped with age, and though they were hiding behind silk, Sara knew each of the pretty little freckles dotting the pale skin of her chest. Her hips were ringed with subtle wrinkles and tiny pockets of fat, each of which Sara had caressed countless times with finger, lip, and tongue. The same could be said of every other inch of Vesta’s body. Over the past year, Sara had learned every so-called fw of the woman’s body, and that knowledge had become one of her most treasured possessions.

  “Have a pleasant day, Governess?” Vesta asked, not looking up from her book.

  “I’ve had worse,” Sara admitted, dropping articles of clothing as she thudded across the room. She reached the sofa and paused to pull her bck leggings off, sighing in relief. Vesta scooted slightly further down the sofa, lifting her head while Sara sat down, tossing her shirt at the room’s door. Sara groaned with relief as Vesta reclined once more, now using Sara’s naked p as a pillow. She absentmindedly began tracking her hands through Vesta’s hair, straightening it back out after her arrival disturbed it.

  Vesta took a sip of her wine, then set the gss aside, gncing up at Sara. “How did the meeting with those Imperial fellows go?”

  “Oh, complicated, like always. Give me a bit to think it over, then I’ll give you the full details. You’ve already read Evie’s notes, I’m guessing?”

  “I did,” Vesta confirmed. “But your own interpretation is always invaluable. What about your father and Shale? Have they finished arguing about the designs of the fortifications?”

  Sara hummed thoughtfully, sliding her hands across Vesta’s shoulders, feeling little pops of static from the silk. She was searching for bare skin, and she found it easily. Vesta’s robe wasn’t even tied in pce, allowing Sara’s deft fingers to slip beneath. Soon she was zily running her fingers across the woman’s bare colrbone, taking her time as she traced out a slow downward spiral.

  “I know you just said something,” Sara said, “but I don’t remember what it was. But I’ve got to say, it feels very nice to finally have something soft in my hands.”

  Vesta chuckled quietly. “A bit more industrial work today than you would have preferred?”

  “I’m getting spoiled,” Sara said, feeling herself sinking deeper into the plush sofa. “I used to do this for a living, y’know. I mean, not the foreman crap, but working with my hands. Twelve hour days, sometimes. Evie and Hurlish have spoiled me rotten.”

  “I would like to cim my due credit for that spoige,” Vesta said, adjusting so that she was ying more firmly on her back, robe falling further open. “And Oddry, of course. Ketch, also, and Shale. And those that join your little club each week. There’s likely some others I’m forgetting, as well.”

  Sara snorted. “When you put it like that, you make me sound like a whore.”

  “No, I believe that would be your pet in the other room.”

  Sara ughed. She finally let her hands fall further downward, teasing the smooth curve of Vesta’s breasts beneath the silk. The older woman shivered.

  “I mean, I kinda am a whore, I guess. Thank the gods that there’s no STDs in this world, right? I don’t thank them for much and mean it, but that one? That one I respect.” Sara brushed near to one of Vesta’s nipples, producing a pleasant little murmur from the woman. “Oh, Nora. That’s who you were forgetting.”

  “And several other shorter dalliances, I’m sure.” Vesta perked up slightly, gncing away from her book (which hadn’t seen a page turned in minutes) to look Sara in the eye. “By the way, how goes your… affair with Nora?”

  “Affair’s probably a good word for it, honestly,” Sara said. “We both know I’m cockblocking her from the sea, and I’m not sure how much longer she’s gonna take it.”

  “You’ve been worried about her running off for quite a while, but it hasn’t happened yet.”

  “That’s only because I’ve been drip-feeding her just enough cannons to keep her around. But sooner or ter, she’s gonna have enough on her ship, and that’ll be that. She’s champing at the bit to get out on the sea, Vesta, and let me tell you, Daygon’s Champion has got some sharp fucking teeth. She’s gonna gnaw through eventually.”

  “And you aren’t sure… Oh-” Vesta was interrupted by Sara’s finger brushing across her nipple, and she took a sharp breath. “Gods.” She swallowed, gathering herself. “You, ah, aren’t sure when she’ll break loose?”

  “She’ll dip out as soon as we get word back from Ketch on those pirates, I imagine,” Sara said. “It’s only been a few days since Ketch actually found them, but it won’t be long before she gives us a report. She’s good at staying hidden. Once she does, I’ll have no reason not to send Nora after them, and I can’t imagine she’ll stick around after that.”

  “Have you any idea what Nora intends to do, once she’s out on the open ocean?”

  “Not really,” Sara admitted with a shrug. “I mean, I can tell she’s got a very, very specific goal, but even I can’t figure out what it is.” Sara curled her fingers, nails scraping pale lines across Vesta’s breasts for a moment, then she spread her hands again, returning to a gentle massage of her chest. “Nora just knows too much that I don’t. Hell, I think she knows plenty of stuff that no one else knows. She was already fucking insane, and now she’s Daygon’s Champion. Maybe not a real Champion from Earth, like me, but that still means something. She could have a god whispering straight in her ear, for all we know.”

  “Mmm. She’s quite something, isn’t she. At least she won’t…” Vesta shuddered as Sara’s palms cupped her breasts. “At least she won’t… ah, take away the whole Navy. The others will stay here, yes?”

  Vesta’s thighs were clenched together, rubbing back and forth as she responded. Sara could tell they were nearing the end of useful conversation.

  “Yeah, they will. Nora and I had a deal, and she’s not gonna back out on that. We’re still the only ones that can make guns for her, and even if she taught someone else how to do it, she knows we’ll just make better ones a month ter. She’s stuck with us, whether she likes it or not.”

  “With… with you offering to be in her be-eeed,” Vesta’s voice hitched as Sara tweaked a nipple, “-you would think she’d never go far.”

  Sara chuckled darkly. “Oh, you’d be surprised. Not everyone is easy to fuck into submission. I mean, don’t get me wrong. She likes fucking me. But that’s it. I think she’s the only person on the pnet with higher standards than I can provide. Pretty sure she’d bang a hurricane, if she could just figure out where to lick.”

  “H-her loss,” Vesta stuttered. She finally abandoned the charade, cpping her book shut and smming down what was left of her wine, setting both aside. She arched her back in one slow, long, stretch, nipples poking through the front of her silk gown, then rexed with a satisfied sigh. Her eyes turned toward the door. “What is taking them so long? Oddry never needs this long to prepare dinner, even handcuffed.”

  “Evie’s with her,” Sara reminded her. “So either Oddry’s distracted by trying to get Evie to not to burn down the kitchen, or Evie got so distracted by the sight of a pretty little maid in chains that she hasn’t left her knees yet. Either way, they’ll probably be a minute.”

  Vesta’s green eyes met Sara’s from her pce snuggled between bare thighs, filled with a sacious sort of hope.

  “Long enough for us, you think?”

  Sara removed one hand from Vesta’s breasts, stroking a strand of hair out of her face with a ugh.

  “Maybe, but we’re not gonna. You never make a good dom after I’m done with you.”

  Vesta licked her lips, eyes fluttering in recollection. “I suppose that’s true. It’s so terribly difficult not to chase more of what you have to offer, once it’s coated the back of my throat.”

  It was Sara’s turn to shiver. She felt a pleasant pulse between her legs, her cock threatening to swell, but she forced her libido back down.

  “You can get it ter. Remember, we’re here to give Oddry her gift.”

  “How could I forget?” Vesta reached over to the elegant coffee table, which probably had a much fancier name than coffee table, and opened a drawer. The gift was still present, and she shut it with a pleased hum, leaning back. “Well. If we are to be waiting, you might as well put your hands to work. Unless the Champion of Amarat’s skill with her fingers only extends to the carnal, rather than the gentle?”

  Sara rolled her eyes, recognizing the bait for what it was, but she decided to give in. She moved from Vesta’s breasts to her shoulders, digging her knuckles in.

  Vesta groaned as she rolled her neck, melting bonelessly into Sara’s p. Her hands could, in fact, do things other than finger someone, even if massages weren’t quite as fun.

  In the end, they probably would have had time for Vesta to recover from getting fucked into blissful insensibility, because it was more than fifteen minutes before Evie and Oddry knocked on the door.

  Vesta opened one zy eye, smirked, and then shut it again, adjusting her position, so her robe was open as it could be without exposing her entirely.

  “Come in!” She called.

  Oddry entered first, and the sight of her slightly trembling legs and mussed skirt suggested that Sara’s second guess had been correct. She was wearing her old maid’s uniform, a thick bck working dress with a white apron overtop. Her curly brown hair was held back not by some frilly french maid’s headband, but a simple length of twine, keeping it out of her face as she worked. A real maid, not one of Sara’s teenaged fantasies.

  Well. There were some exceptions to that statement.

  Oddry’s wrists were pinned together by bck leather bands connected by a short length of chain, as were her ankles. She could move just enough to walk and grab things, but every task was made inordinately more difficult by her bondage, constantly keeping the terms of her servitude at the forefront of her mind. Compounding that was the tight leather band wrapped around her throat, connected by a strap to her waist, drawn tight enough that her breasts were forced forward, as if she were trying to shove them in the face of anyone she spoke to.

  Chained up as she was, there was no way to move that wasn’t an invitation for someone to take advantage of her. If she dropped something, she couldn’t simply bend over and grab it. She had to kneel, then spread her knees apart, forced to bow in supplication to reach the floor. If she fell over in the attempt, she’d be near helpless, left lying either with her tits thrust up in the air if she fell on her back, or her ass presented for all to see if she fell on her face. And though Sara couldn’t tell right now, she knew the thread stitching together the lower half of Oddry’s dress was shoddy, shoddy work. Practically begging to be snapped, really.

  Evie entered next, and though Oddry’s outfit was mouth-watering, Sara’s eyes snapped to her own wife like a magnet.

  Evie was not dressed like a real maid. Not any maid that had done a day of housework in their life, at least. The flimsy clothes she’d been allowed to wear started at her armpits, leaving her arms and shoulders bare, and ended an inch beneath her ass, requiring the absolute straightest of posture not to expose herself to anyone who bothered to look. Pretty white frills ringed the edges of her uniform, completely impractical and absolutely beautiful. With the war finally over, Sara had finally found the time to commision a tailor to make a proper french maid uniform, and it had been finished just a week ago.

  Despite that, much like the woman wearing it, there were clear signs that it had been thoroughly broken in. Certain types of stains didn’t come out no matter how hard you scrubbed. Evie had talked about having a second made already, but Sara had vetoed that outright. She wanted Evie marked. And she wanted Evie to remember who she belonged to every time she looked in a mirror wearing that uniform.

  The feline’s tail made a slight rustling noise as she joined Oddry in setting out the meal, pcing ptes of bread and pots of stew on the table. It smelled excellent, and Sara’s stomach growled.

  Oddry and Evie stepped away, kneeling in the corner of the room, heads lowered.

  “It smells good, doesn’t it?” Sara asked Vesta, who sat up.

  “It does. Hand me the spoon, would you?”

  They began eating their meals in companionable silence, ignoring both their state of undress and their wives– servants, in this scene– kneeling in the corner. Evie and Oddry didn’t actually know what had been pnned for the evening, beyond the fact that they would be acting as maids. They’d only been told to prepare dinner in the kitchen while wearing the uniforms that had been set out for them.

  Sara ate slowly and comfortably, always aware of the gaze of the two women crawling across her skin. She was completely naked, breasts and cock on dispy. She’d even recently figured out how to summon her dick soft, (mostly through her attempts to make pissing outside crowded Tulian bars easier, though that wasn’t particurly sexy to mention) and she took advantage of it now. It y in her p in full view of the room, six inches long even before it was hard.

  Maintaining that state was incredibly difficult when she could feel Evie’s drooling desire emanating through the colr’s connection. Still, it was important to keep herself under control. The whole point of this evening was to show their wives– no, servants, Sara reminded herself– exactly where they belonged. That they were toys, to be used for relief, and when they weren’t needed, they didn’t exist.

  Sara was doing a better job of keeping that charade up than Vesta. Even while they ate and chatted about nothing, Vesta’s eyes kept flicking back over to Oddry, often accompanied by a squirming of her thighs. For a forty two year old woman, Vesta was shockingly impatient.

  Sara finished her meal of stew and bread first, and even though it couldn’t have taken more than five minutes, Evie was shaking like a chihuahua. She’d made a mess of the rug between her thighs where her arousal was pooling, and her mouth hung open as she panted, eyes locked on Sara’s soft cock. Her hips kept making microscopic twitches, as if trying to ride something that wasn’t really there. Halfway through the meal, Sara had been forced to order Evie to remain still, because she was getting near to involuntarily crawling across the floor. The woman didn’t seem aware of any of that, however. She only had eyes for Sara.

  Oddry’s arousal may not have been as extreme, but it was still evident. The clink and cnk of her chains as she shifted in pce grew constant, and she’d begun to fix Vesta with a puppy-dog expression, full of silent pleading. Occasionally she would gnce to her left, at Evie, and seeing the state of the far-more-depraved woman usually forced a shudder through her. Whether it was a shudder of disbelief, desire, or envy, it was difficult for even Sara to say. If she had to bet, there was a little bit of it all. Seeing how much further she had left to fall was doing all sorts of things to the young maid.

  When there was a particurly loud noise from Oddry’s chains, Vesta set her pte down, sighing in faux-irritation.

  “Impossible to find good help these days, isn’t it?” She asked Sara.

  “It always has been the way,” Sara agreed haughtily, the spitting image of noble arrogance. “Though, I can think of a few ways for them to be created, rather than found.” Sara nodded to Evie. “Look at her. Pitiful little thing, isn’t she? Yet she can’t even give in to her own pathetic nature.” Sara tapped her wrist band. “I won’t let her, after all.”

  “Oh, you always say that.” Vesta sipped at her drink pretending to consider. “But alright then. I suppose you’ve been proven right.” Vesta stood, letting her robe fall open all the way, baring her breasts to the kneeling women. She sauntered over to the center of the coffee table and bent down, opening a drawer. “I was hoping I wouldn’t have to waste something so valuable on a creature like her, but she’s such a bother. It seems my hand has been forced…”

  Vesta drew out a colr.

  Oddry had worn colrs before, of course. But this wasn’t just any colr. It was one that made the maid’s eyes widen.

  It was made of sblike iron, enchantments glowing countless subtle colors, with a single prominent crack straight down its centerline, bridged by a thick steel padlock.

  In Vesta’s other hand was a matching wrist band, which she twirled on a finger, smirking as she approached Oddry.

  The maid’s shivers progressed to outright trembling that grew and grew, intensifying with Vesta’s every step, until she was left craning her neck painfully upward to watch Vesta with wide, watering eyes.

  Vesta stopped with her pelvis an inch in front of Oddry’s nose, looking down on the woman with a power-mad, drunken grin.

  “Well, peasant? What do you think?”

  “O-of c-course, Mistress,” Oddry stuttered, bobbing her head as much as her bindings would allow. “I w-would l-love nothing more than t-to obey you b-better.”

  Vesta set a hand on Oddry’s head, petting it slowly, possessively. “It seems you still have the sense to say the right things.”

  Then Vesta leaned a little bit closer, turning the colr so Oddry could see it from every angle. Her voice dropped to a whisper, still dripping arousal, but far more genuine.

  “I wanted to get it engraved, but we still haven’t chosen a surname. We really ought to get on that. Now look here. See? The padlock can’t actually lock, and the colr will always let you disobey your orders in order to take it off. The metal should adjust to fit your neck, I’ve tested that myself, but I haven’t worn it with the padlock, since it’s sized for your neck. If it needs to be made smaller or lighter, let me know right away, alright? We won’t have to stop the scene; we can just use ropes to keep it on tonight, if we need to.”

  “I u-understand, dear,” Oddry whispered back. “Thank you. B-but if you don’t get that on m-me right now…”

  Vesta suddenly straightened, haughtiness returning to her tone with a tittering ugh.

  “Thanking me for your servitude, peasant? Maybe we will make a proper peasant out of you yet. Bend.”

  The hand Vesta had in Oddry’s hair clenched, shoving her down. Oddry gasped as her binds forced her to bend at the waist, as if she were bowing to a Queen. Her short brown curls were wrapped in Vesta’s fist, leaving the back of her supple neck exposed. Above her, where she couldn’t see, Vesta pried the colr open, then dropped it over the maid’s neck. It fell into pce with a cnk, its broken, open face dangling below.

  “Rise.”

  Vesta jerked Oddry’s head back up even before she gave the order. The colr hung loosely from her neck, one open end of the padlock swaying back and forth, waiting to be closed.

  “Now,” Vesta whispered, honesty returning, “take a deep breath.”

  The padlock clicked closed. The colr fshed.

  And Oddry moaned.

  The first time getting Colred was always an intense experience. Sara had seen it in Evie, even if she hadn’t recognized it at the time, and thanks to Hurlish, she’d eventually experienced it herself. As her eyes roved over Oddry’s trembling figure, she knew what was happening to the woman.

  The cold iron of the colr would warm to a fever pitch, pressing heat into the muscles of her neck, only to suddenly abate, melding with her skin as if it was as much a part of her body as any other. Oddry would be overwhelmed by an inexorable, dragging pull towards her new Mistress, her body forced to recognize the woman who now owned her. If she didn’t fight it– and Sara knew she wouldn’t– there would be a warm, reassuring pressure spreading along her body, every thud of her racing heart sending the intoxicating sensation down to the tips of her fingers and toes.

  Oddry fell forward as her moan continued, forced to remain upright. The noblewoman let her linger for until she stopped shuddering, then pulled her head away, forcing the maid to look up at her.

  “Do you think you can disobey me now, peasant?”

  “I-I-”

  “Of course you do,” Vesta snapped. “Let’s see if you can. Raise your hands.”

  The colr fshed as Oddry’s hands shot up, chains clinking.

  “Drop them.”

  The force that Oddry had been exerting to control her own body reasserted itself, smming her hands down into her p.

  “Put them behind your head.”

  Oddry’s back arched as her hands darted behind her head, thrusting her chest forward. Sara could see Oddry fight it, instinct trying to rebel against the foreign control of her body, but it was useless. The colrs Garen had broken were still powerful artifacts, if not quite as Divine as they’d been in the first reality. They compelled the wearer to do anything their Owner ordered, with only one critical exception.

  Whether it was by the design of Garen’s removal spell or not, the spell-snapped colrs were incapable of forcing the wearer to keep them on. Sara had tested it extensively. No order, no matter how it was phrased, had managed to prevent Evie from removing her colr. Even with her arms and legs wrapped in ropes, the moment Evie had willed the colr off her, it had popped open, going so far as to explosively shatter the padlock that secured it in pce. After reassuring the devastated Evie that a second padlock beled Whore wouldn’t be hard to make, Sara had been delighted. It seemed the enchantment that prevented the colrs from remaining on an unwilling subject was as powerful as that which had once kept it unbroken in the first pce.

  It was a peculiar way for the new colrs to work, something not even Garen had anticipated. Sara suspected Amarat had more to do with it than him. A colr that forced someone to follow every order given to them, save for anything they didn’t actually want to do, was next to useless.

  With a few notable exceptions.

  Vesta snapped order after order, forcing Oddry through increasingly demeaning positions. Her own body brought her face down, kissing the ground at Vesta’s feet, then had her straining at her chains, trying with all her might to break them, even though she knew she couldn’t. With each successive order, Oddry’s body responded faster, more alertly.

  Sara knew what Vesta was doing. She’d told the woman what to do, after all.

  Finally, after minutes of contorting her body into humiliating positions, Vesta’s flurry of orders tapered off. Oddry was left breathing hard, sweat on her face, a dazed smile of disbelief on her face. From the first day the submissive maid had seen what Sara was capable of doing to Evie, she’d compined that she couldn’t wear a colr herself. To finally have one wrapped around her throat had her shaking like a virgin.

  But she still didn’t get it. Sara could see the perverse delight she took in losing control of herself, in having her body bent to the will of another, but that wasn’t the point of the colrs. Not anymore.

  “Give in already, girl,” Sara called, waving her gss of wine at the maid like a bored spectator. “Look at the bitch next to you. Now there’s a whore who knows her pce.”

  Oddry gnced at Evie, who was still kneeling next to her. Sara had never released her from her first order. She was frozen in the same kneeling position, head bowed, hands behind her back, legs spread to show her glistening arousal to anyone who cared to look. The only movement came in the form of involuntary shivers and her swiping tail, which was curling up against her side to caress her own body as best it could. She was breathing hard, eyes half-closed. Every time she tried to move from her position, the order put a halt to it, and then another miniature spasm would roll across her skin.

  “She’s given up, peasant,” Sara said. “And look what it’s earned her. Do you think there’s anything left in that pretty little head of hers? Or has it all been repced with submission, the hallmark of something which knows its pce?” Sara leaned forward, grinning a cheshire smile. “Well? Which is it? Answer me, peasant.”

  Oddry swallowed hard as she stared at Evie, whose trembling had intensified as Sara spoke. The maid licked her lips.

  “I-I don’t k-know, My Lady,” she said. “I can’t t-tell.”

  “Exactly.” Sara took a long, savoring sip of her wine. “And it doesn’t matter. Not anymore. She’s just something to be used. If there’s anything left of her? Well. It does seem to be enjoying itself, doesn’t it?”

  Oddry’s breath was coming in heavy pants now, her entire body rocking back and forth.

  “Answer her question, peasant,” Vesta snapped.

  “Whu- what? Mistress, what question?”

  “Is the bitch next to you enjoying itself? Answer honestly.”

  “Y-yyyeeesss,” Oddry moaned, the forced answer turned into a long moan as she watched Evie’s strongest convulsion yet.

  “Then why haven’t you given in as well?” Vesta hummed curiously. She lifted a foot and dropped it on the back of Oddry’s hand, pressing down. The maid let out a wonderful little whimper, wrenching her eyes shut.

  “I-I h-have, Mistress,” Oddry groaned.

  “No you haven’t, peasant,” Vesta growled angrily. “That thing next to you has given up, and she’s earned her reward for that. You are nothing like her.” Vesta bent forward, putting more weight on Oddry’s hand. “Now, I’m going to give you more instructions. And we’re going to see if you can really give in.”

  “O-okay,” Oddry gasped. “O-okay. okay. I promise I’ll... I’ll do it, Mistress.”

  Vesta huffed disbelievingly.

  “Look at me.”

  Oddry’s chin rose, her lips quivering to the tune of her colr’s hum. It wasn’t what Vesta was looking for.

  “Hold your breath.”

  Oddry’s chest froze. The moment stretched. Five seconds, ten. Longer. But she didn’t give in. Not when her face began to redden, her eyes lidding as she grew even more lightheaded.

  “Breathe.”

  Oddry exhaled gratefully, wobbling slightly. Holding her breath for that long was impressive, considering how aroused she was. But she still didn’t understand what Vesta wanted.

  Sara watched with bated breath as Vesta leaned back, considering. Here was the moment where she’d have to step in, if ever there was going to be one. Without the ability to magically intuit exactly what your partner wanted, domming someone like this was a difficult challenge. Vesta had made it clear that while she’d really prefer Sara not interrupt, if that was what it would take to make a scene work, or to keep things safe, Sara shouldn’t hesitate.

  So how was Vesta going to grind Oddry down? Sara’s cock began to throb as her excitement overwhelmed her self-control. She needed to see it. How was Vesta going to try and break her wife? How was she going to force the woman to not just kneel, but to love being on her knees?

  Vesta smiled cruelly, some demented idea sparking to life behind her eyes. Sara leaned forward eagerly.

  “Oddry… Kiss me.”

  The maid’s eyes shot open as her colr fshed. She fell forward like the world had turned on its side, thumping against Vesta’s leg, arms dangling so limply that for a moment Sara thought the maid had passed out.

  Then her mouth opened, gasping against creamy skin. She turned her face against Vesta’s inner thigh, pressing her lips to the soft expanse beneath her robe, and began to worship her Mistress’s body.

  A low, keening cry shook free from her lips as she truly, honestly gave in, an angelic moan that was muffled by the taste of Vesta’s skin. Her colr continued to glow as her hips tried to grind against empty air, her skin fring with a thousand goosebumps.

  Sara knew what was happening to her. She’d felt it a dozen times herself, and had seen it in Evie a thousand times more. Thick, sludgy pleasure was being pumped into the woman’s veins, the same sensation that had accompanied her colring, but a thousand times more potent. A delight so intense it was almost toxic, intoxicating, addicting, turning her body and mind to pliable putty in the hands of her Mistress.

  It was wonderful to witness. Almost a privilege. The sheer totality of submission. The way Oddry’s eyes closed as she threw herself into her task, not just because her colr made her, but because she knew it was what she was supposed to do. She had been given a purpose, an all-consuming, holy purpose, and she would see it through.

  “There’s the servant I wanted to see,” Vesta cooed, twisting her fingers into Oddry’s hair. The maid kept kissing her leg, nibbling, sucking, and kissing in equal measure, doing everything that the colr knew her Mistress wanted. “Look up at me again, dear.”

  Oddry’s eyes fluttered open as her head tilted upward, colr fshing. The moment the light hit the air another whimper squirmed its way out of the maid’s throat, her uncompromising obedience rewarded once again.

  “You’ve been very good,” Vesta purred. Oddry bobbed her head, a hazy, empty smile spreading across her face. “Return to your kneeling position.”

  Oddry’s body snapped to attention, returning to her submissive posture, head bowed, hands folded atop her knees.

  “And stay frozen like that,” Vesta said. “You may look at me or your knees, nowhere else. Remain silent.”

  Order after order smmed into the maid, each a successive wave of pleasure that served only to drag her deeper into a fuzzy, wondrous disorientation. Even with the order to hold her position, her head wobbled gently from side to side, her body so awash in pleasure that she was losing the physical ability to control herself.

  Then, without a further word, Vesta turned on a heel and walked back to the sofa. She sat down, then patted her thigh.

  “Come here, Peasant.”

  Oddry tripped over herself in her eagerness to rush over, nding in a sprawl of limbs. With her hands and ankles still cuffed, she spent several seconds struggling to right herself, until Vesta’s sing-song voice called out.

  “None of that. Peasants belong on their knees. When we are not in public, you will crawl to me. Do so now, then resume your kneeling position at my feet.”

  Oddry shuddered, then began to adjust herself, unsteadily finding her way to her hands and knees. Sara watched with arrogant amusement as the maid slowly made her way to her Mistress on all fours, chains clinking. When she finally arrived, Vesta leaned back into the cushions, spreading her legs.

  “Ah, so much better,” she sighed. “You were right after all, My Lady. Colred servants are so much less hassle.”

  “I have been telling you such for quite a while,” Sara agreed, folding her own legs, if only to hide her throbbing erection, which was doing an awful job of maintaining the falsehood that she was an impassive observer to all that had just occurred. “Are you still hungry, or should we have them take dinner away?”

  “Oh, I am not hungry. But I do find myself rather exhausted by the ordeal of taming such a disobedient peasant.” Vesta reached up and peeled her silk negligee off her shoulders, leaving herself fully naked for the first time. “Would you care to help me…” Vesta’s eyes dropped low, to the hidden length between Sara’s legs. “...rex, My Lady?”

  It was a testament to the power of Amarat’s Blessings that Sara could hold back her ughter.

  Really, Vesta? She thought. Is this how you seduced all those maids? Corny porno lines? Yet before she could find some way to politely ridicule the remark, Sara’s attention was brought low as well, to the woman’s breasts, and she sucked in a sharp breath.

  Okay. I guess she has the body to make it work.

  “I think I can help with that,” Sara said, breathing heavily.

  “I knew you would.” Vesta stood for a moment, allowing Sara to scoot over, and then she sat back down in Sara’s p, falling back. Sara obediently wrapped herself around the older woman’s body, moving her hands in slow, sensual circles, dancing at her breasts, rubbing at her neck. She bent to nip at Vesta’s neck while the woman’s hands slowly fell to either side, going sck with a satisfied sigh.

  And all the while their two ‘servants’ were left kneeling, watching.

  Sara shifted slightly, using her own legs to spread Vesta’s thighs wider, so that Oddry was left kneeling directly between Vesta’s legs, staring at the sight of Vesta’s sex grinding along her cock. Her hips rolled back and forth, coating Sara’s length in her arousal.

  Evie let out an involuntary mewl, a kitten’s protestive whine, while Oddry tried to groan, realizing her the predicament they had pnned for the evening. All four present had felt and tasted every part of each other’s bodies before, but it had always been either as a group, where no one could quite remember whose tongues and fingers had been where, or by attending to their respective partners simultaneously. This was a new experience for Oddry in particur. Watching her Mistress falling apart in ecstasy, but from afar, not allowed any part of it.

  Vesta slid back one st time, gasping with need, and gripped Sara’s cock. With a deft hand and quivering legs she lifted herself up, pcing the tip at her own entrance.

  The sight had Sara’s eyes widening. It had been between her legs, soft and hidden, and she’s only really felt it grow in the past few minutes. She’d known it was going to be rge; it almost always was, with the preferences her usual partners kept.

  But for Vesta, this was different. This was as rge as Evie preferred her, maybe bigger, almost like what she treated Hurlish with. The red, angry head of her cock was leaking precum onto her thighs, throbbing in pce. Sara groaned, feeling the heat of Vesta’s body so near, but not anywhere near enough.

  Then Vesta began to slide herself forward, slipping Sara inside.

  Sara had to free her hands from Vesta’s shoulders, lest her spasming fingers snap the woman’s bones like balsa wood. Her hips rutted forward involuntarily, shoving herself deeper by just the barest bit, but even that was enough to make Vesta yelp.

  “By the f-fucking gods you’re b-big, Sara,” Vesta moaned, drawing nail lines on Sara’s skin as she tried to adjust to her penetration. “Every time, I t-think you won’t fit, and y-yet…”

  Sara didn’t have anything cocky to respond with at the moment. She couldn’t even judge Vesta for dropping the nobility rolepy by using her name; if Sara had been capable of unclenching her jaw, she would have been doing the same.

  Vesta slipped another inch down Sara’s cock, hanging her head as she blew her air out in great huffs. If it had been any normal human anatomy trying to do this to her, to stretch her walls out so far, it would have hurt. It may not have been possible to even try.

  Vesta tried to shove herself down further, chasing the high of painful pleasure that every further inch brought her, but she just couldn’t. Her legs trembled, her body at war with its own desires, its own needs.

  Sara activated Gift of Lust. She’d intended to help her along her way. But when the ability activated, something very unexpected happened. A blue box appeared, its meaning imprinting itself into her skull in the space between instants, and several things abruptly made much more sense.

  Amarat’s Gift of Lust

  Should a target be willing, either consciously or subconsciously, the Champion of Amarat may infme their passions. This lust can only be satiated by the Champion, something that the target is innately aware of.

  In addition to Lust, the target shall now be granted their own Gift of Amarat, a reward for bringing pleasure to her most favored Champion. So long as they faithfully serve the Champion, their bodies shall become whatever is needed to fulfill her needs.

  Or desires.

  With a gasp, Vesta slid further down Sara’s cock, the force she’d been exerting yielding unexpected dividends. Her body did not enrge, nor did Sara’s shrink, yet somehow, in a way that Sara’s eyes couldn’t quite define, it worked.

  “H-holy fucking shit,” Vesta spat, the uncharacteristic profanity flying unbidden from her lips. Her voice was high-pitched and girlish, whining with need. “So… how… oh!”

  Sara dug her fingers into Vesta’s hips and dragged her down, abandoning any concern for the woman’s well-being.

  Vesta practically colpsed as her mind was drowned in the heaven summoned by Sara’s cock, groaning senselessly, her hips shaking with waves of shivering delight.

  Yet as eager as Sara was to test out her new Blessing, fucking Vesta into a drooling mess wasn’t the point of this evening. Under the watchful eyes of Oddry and Evie, she encouraged the noblewoman to fall onto her chest, Sara’s arms supporting her weight.

  And, slowly, lovingly, she began to move her hips.

  Even this gentle motion was enough to have Vesta groaning wildly into the open air, eyes rolling back. Sara felt her cock get seized by clenching waves of pressure and knew Vesta had just reached her peak, even if her body didn’t have the wherewithal to show it.

  It was almost impossible for Sara to not follow right after. For all she was pretending to ignore them, the attentions of Oddry and Evie were like ropes of fire wrapping her body, their roving eyes driving her further into a lust-filled fog, all at the same time her cock was impaled in something tighter than she’d ever known. Some distracted part of Sara’s mind was reminded of times when Hurlish had tried to jerk her off as Evie ate the orc out, only to lose control of her strength when she reached her peak. Being buried in Vesta was simir, her inner walls clenching Sara’s cock so tightly it was teetering at the edge of pain, yet never quite tipped over. It was unlike anything she’d ever felt, and it was only through a heroic effort that she barely kept control.

  Sara continued to thrust into Vesta in slow, nguid motions, sucking and nibbling at her neck as she did so. Vesta’s moans switched between breathy groans and high-pitched squeaks, any hope of controlling her reactions lost with the bulk of her motor functions.

  This is fucking great, but it’s not going to work for what we have pnned, Sara realized. If I’m altering her body, can’t I just… turn down her-

  Before she finished the thought, Sara felt Vesta’s limp body gain a modicum of tension. Her arms, which had been spyed limply on the sofa, suddenly gripped it.

  “Hurry up and fuck me,” the noblewoman growled, dragging herself down onto Sara’s cock.

  Sara obliged.

  The entire sofa began to shake as Sara pounded into Vesta, who, suddenly able to take the massive cock without going into catatonic bliss, began spitting a litany of forceful demands. Sara was told to fuck her, to break her hips, to fill her and never leave, all in increasingly less eloquent fashion as Vesta’s every thought was steadily repced by cock.

  And still Sara felt the eyes of their spectators on her. From across the room and inches away, waves of pounding desire seemed to thud with physical force in her ears. Her Blessings ensured that she knew exactly what they wanted from her.

  Even frozen by her orders, Sara could tell Evie was being driven to the edge of madness by her scant few minutes of enforced chastity. The sight of Sara burying herself in Vesta, of feeling it for herself through their bond, was doing unspeakable things to the poor feline’s depraved psyche. Pavlovian responses left her swallowing constantly just to avoid literally drooling at the sight of Sara’s cock, while her legs threatened to give out even from her kneeling position, overcome by her innate desire to serve, to worship, to be used. A low whine kept trying to rise out of her throat, her tail thrashing wildly, cws extending to draw pinpricks of blood in her thighs. It wasn’t even her own desire that drove her to this point, but rather the knowledge that she was here, watching her Master have sex, and she was not doing the slightest thing for her Master’s sake. If Sara had given her the task of keeping a gss of water ready, the feline would have been as happy as could be, taking the same pleasure in serving her Master drinks as she did serving up her body. Doing nothing at all, however? That was torturous.

  Oddry wasn’t quite as affected, but it was a near thing. She was shaking like a leaf in a thunderstorm, her mouth opening and closing as she tried to cry out. She wasn’t a jealous woman. How could she be, after all she and Vesta had done? But that didn’t change her desperate, all-consuming arousal, which was being driven higher with every twitch of her limbs. She kept instinctively trying to reach out for Vesta’s body, only to find the colr’s commands restraining her, the realization of which would send another shock of pleasure rolling through her. She was caught in a terrible loop, every moment tempting her to defy orders, every attempt failing, forcing her to face her submission once more, each repetition driving sense further and further from her mind.

  “Are you going to finish in me?” Vesta asked breathlessly, drawing Sara’s attention back to the woman she was fucking. “I think that would… that would do wonders for my rexation. To be given a nice, full belly.”

  It was Sara’s turn to whine, a pintive noise that she tried to bury in Vesta’s throat.

  “I know you want to,” Vesta whispered. “I’ve already had three, My Lady. What bother would a fourth be? Perhaps you’d give me my first girl. I wouldn’t care either way, of course. There’s no need to worry, not when… when I will be bringing you women to your heart’s content in which to spread your seed.”

  This hadn’t been part of the pn. This wasn’t the plot they’d discussed.

  “Don’t you think the whores on our floor would look so much better with their dresses filled out?” Vesta panted, her eyes gzing over again, this time on accord of her own runaway imagination. “Pregnant little maids bustling around, your children on their hips and in their wombs, tending to your every need. Can you give that to me, Sara? Can I be the first to bear your child?”

  From across the room, there was a snap.

  Sara barely had time to gnce to the right before a colrless Evie arrived, throwing herself at the foot of the sofa. She lunged forward, shoving Oddry aside as she dove between Sara’s legs, mouth open.

  Only to be halted as her neck smmed into Sara’s hand, which cinched closed before the feline could so much as gasp. Her wife- and there was no mistaking that the mewling little thing in her hand was her wife, not some fake servant- should have been fast enough to dodge. But she was too addled by arousal, too lost to her lust to think of anything but her goal.

  Sara lifted Evie up, still thrusting into Vesta, until the feline was at eye level.

  “Bad girl.”

  Sara smmed Evie down onto the carpet with a floorboard-cracking thud, an impact that could be felt through the whole house.

  Evie rasped out a delighted moan.

  “Vesta,” Sara snapped. “Have your servant come over here.”

  “Do as she says,” Vesta groaned.

  “Bring her colr over here and put it on her,” Sara ordered. Oddry leapt to it with a fsh of her own colr, collecting the discarded sve colr and its shattered lock. Sara shifted her grip on Evie’s throat just enough to allow the colr to be dropped in pce, then returned her grip to its pce, pinning her wife to the floor.

  “Stay still,” Sara ordered. Evie’s struggling vanished, but her eyes were wide as could be, staring straight up. “Oddry?”

  “Y-yes?”

  “Evie’s going to hold this colr in pce, and you’re going to finger her. Keep your eyes on Vesta. If Evies doesn’t cum in the next minute, or tries to break out, or even tries to fake an orgasm, Hurlish and I aren’t going to fuck her for the next two days. And Evie?” Sara stared daggers at the woman. “You believe me.”

  The colr fshed as Evie’s eyes widened with panic. Sara knew what she was thinking. Two days? Two entire days? She would die. She was certain that she couldn’t survive such a torture.

  “Better get started.”

  Sara turned back to Vesta and threw herself into the act, ignoring the two women lying beneath them.

  Vesta tried to ugh, but the next snap of Sara’s hips turned it into a mindless groan. She wrapped her fingers in Sara’s hair and pulled her head forward, turning to whisper in her ear.

  “She’s going to hate you for that ter, you know.”

  “No she won’t. There’s a reason I had to order her to believe me.” Sara’s thoughts shattered for a moment as Vesta stopped bouncing switching to a forward-and-back roll of her hips, stirring Sara’s cock around even while it was at its deepest. “There’s… shit you’re tight, Vesta… there’s no way I could… could keep my hands off her for two whole fucking days. If I didn’t make her think otherwise, she’d… know…”

  With one st groan, Sara gave up on talking. It was all too much. Everyone was suffering the most exquisite torture they could still enjoy. Evie was suffering through her worst nightmare, that of being forced to receive pleasure without giving it, and she was getting it from a woman who wanted nothing, nothing more than to bring her lips a few inches forward, pnting them on the body that Sara was in the middle of filling with cock. Oddry could barely pay any mind to her fingering, which was already incredibly awkward by virtue of her hands still being trapped in cuffs, an inelegance that was only worsened by her being enraptured with the sight of Vesta’s bouncing body. Evie was desperately rutting into the maid’s hand, trying to get off before some imaginary timer counted down, and it didn’t look like it was going to work.

  And Sara? Sara gave up on caring about anyone but herself.

  She used her grip on Vesta’s hips to sm the woman down, impaling her on cock. She couldn’t see the front of Vesta, but she saw the way Oddry’s eyes flicked up, to Vesta’s stomach, and knew there was a bulge protruding there.

  Sara found a guttural growl falling out of her mouth as she lifted Vesta and dragged her back down again, the cp of flesh filling the air. Vesta’s red hair was tossed into tangles as Sara repeated the motion again and again, faster and faster, until the woman’s demands broke apart into mindless sounds of delight.

  Vesta reached her peak again, walls rippling against Sara’s cock, and it felt nice enough that her hand snapped out to seize Oddry’s colr, dragging her forward. She buried the maid’s face into her Mistress's cunt, using her like a tool just to get more of that pleasant little buzz on her cock.

  It worked. Vesta immediately fell into another climax, a cry of some kind or another filling the air, and Sara fucked her through it, using her free hand to hold the woman in pce while her servant began to lick and suck at her body with religious fervor. Nothing could keep Oddry’s face away, not the bounce of Vesta’s body or the smack of Sara’s legs on her chin. She’d finally reached what she’d spent so long working for, and no force on the pnet could tear her away.

  Sara felt Vesta clench yet again as Oddry found her clit, and like the fsh of a starter pistol, it set Sara off. She threw herself into Vesta’s body, fucking her as fast as she could, hips pistoning in and out of her sopping heat with mindless heat. There was nothing left in Sara’s head but hunger, hunger for that body, for what she needed to put in there right fucking now. She heard Evie whine, felt Oddry’s tongue begin to bounce across her shaft as her thrusts threw everything off, and still she wouldn’t stop, couldn’t stop, not until she reached that final little fucking ledge and threw herself straight off into oblivion.

  With a final, growling cry, Sara threw her hips up into Vesta. She felt something clench tight deep in her stomach, then her legs began to quiver, her cock seized by white-hot heat as her vision went white. She heard Evie cry out, her hips rising into the air in sympathy, throwing Oddry’s hands off her.

  Sara’s cock began to jump, every pulse throwing out a spray of white cum so hot it seemed to burn, coating Vesta’s walls with it. The older woman’s voice cracked as she cried out, back arching. Her entire body trembled as her cunt spasmed, doing everything it could to milk Sara, to get as much of her climax inside as was possible. Sara’s own hips helped her along as they threw themselves violently upward, burying her cock as deep inside Vesta as could be reached, her skin afire with blinding delight, muscles burning from the inside out as her climax roared through her.

  And then, finally, she colpsed.

  When the rush of blood pounding through her head faded, Sara became aware of a quiet whimpering. She looked down and to her right to find Evie spyed out on the floor, two fingers still buried deep inside herself. The aftershocks of an orgasm were still racing through her.

  “Did you do it?” Sara asked. When Evie didn’t respond, she nudged her with a foot. “I said, did you do it?”

  The feline blinked her eyes open, trying and failing to lock them onto Sara.

  “I… may’ve? Maybe.” She shook slightly, licking her lips. “I don’t… a minute? How long’s a minute? I tried, Master. I know I… I tried to be good…”

  “You did good,” Sara said, though she honestly had no idea if Evie had met the time limit. It barely mattered. She lifted Vesta up and off her cock, prompting a pitiful whine from the woman, and set her limp body aside. Sara patted her p. “Come here, Kitty. You did good.”

  “Oh.” Evie crawled shakily to her knees, dragging herself into Sara’s p. “Oh, thank you. Thank you, Master.” Sara lifted her cock up, still slick with cum and Vesta’s arousal, and Evie paused overtop it, eyes closing.

  “Ohhhhh…” The feline sank down onto Sara’s cock with a blissful sigh, less like a woman taking a cock as thick as a a fist, more like a woman returning safely home after a long day of work. “Thank you, Master,” Evie murmured as their hips met. “Thank you. I… oh, I looove you.”

  “I love you too,” Sara said with a chuckle, giving Evie a reassuring pat on the back. She still believed she’d narrowly avoided two days of sexless life, and the relief seemed to have broken something in her. She barely had the strength to roll her hips against Sara’s cock.

  Curious, Sara gnced over to the side, wondering what Oddry was doing. The maid hadn’t gotten to cum, after all.

  Sara smiled.

  Oddry had taken her colr off and crawled over to Vesta’s half-conscious form, burying her face between her Mistress’s thighs. She was licking her clean, swallowing every drop of Sara’s cum that she could reach. She wasn’t even fingering herself; she only used her hands to help keep Vesta’s thighs open, all to reach more of her body.

  I think the submissive training is done for her, Sara decided, grinning. Content that the two women wouldn’t need her, she grabbed a handful of Evie’s ass and drew her closer, forcing a whine from the woman.

  “I got a new Skill from Amarat,” Sara whispered. “And I think it’s one you and Hurlish are gonna like.”

  “Wha… huh?” Evie blinked vacantly, still focused on Sara’s cock stirring her insides.

  “Yeah,” Sara said, because she knew her wife would understand it ter. “It’s an upgrade to Gift of Lust. You’re going to love it.” Sara pulled up her mental recollection of the skill and read it aloud.

  Amarat’s Greater Gift of Lust

  Should a target be willing, either consciously or subconsciously, the Champion of Amarat may infme their passions. This lust can only be satiated by the Champion, something that the target is innately aware of.

  In addition to Lust, the target shall now be granted their own Gift of Amarat, a reward for bringing pleasure to her most favored Champion. So long as they faithfully serve the Champion, their bodies shall become whatever is needed to fulfill her needs.

  Or desires.

  To her surprise, her wife managed to bring her lolling head up, looking Sara in the eye for a brief moment.

  “Hurlish’s cock is going to be… amazing…”

  Evie’s head fell back onto Sara’s shoulder, having spent all the energy save that which kept her hips grinding.

  Wait.

  Wait.

  Will that work?

  Sara’s cock pulsed inside Evie, hardening just a touch further. It wasn’t possible, right? That the changes could do more than just help her partners take her cock? That it could give them one, too?

  Sara thought of Hurlish with a cock. Of what she’d do with it. Of what she’d do to Sara with it.

  She began pumping into Evie, a new fire burning in her stomach.