Take Up the Cross – Chapter 124: Sinful Kestners, Past and Present ☆

“HAAH! Yes, yes, pull…! Close! I’m close!”

“NNNGH!? HHHHNGGGH!”

“Make me… special…! Soft and strong! Now, I want to…!”

Close is far behind the thick prey’s own rumbling climax. Hoime shakes with her face pulled against Lycia’s quim, trapped by the ghoul’s greedy desire to follow both she and Adris.

(I’m so tired…)

Into Fehr’s clutches he retires. No longer party to this, it’s still entertaining to watch rival women demand pleasure from each other with tempting words, though.

“… Eat you up…! Suck on… taste! Lick, love…!

WOR… SHIP… ME, BUNNY~♥!”

Lycia leans over in a panting mood, eyes tightly closed and one hand stroking Hoime’s ear. That long tongue of hers licks it lightly, before Lycia’s panting becomes uncontrolled.

“Meat forever, always… my dinner, every night…! AHHH!”

A lack of air when drowning in juices sends Hoime jerking, which only brings a drunker smile to his sis.

(Damn it… did I look as thoroughly owned as Hoime does before everyone!?)

That thought of being humiliated without being aware makes Adris grip the bunny’s fat rear harder.

“Hnnn!

HNNNNN!?! GUMMMING!”

(T-TENDER!)

Lycia’s gyrating grinding and Adris’ own mistaken invitation drives Hoime into slamming back against his softening cock, desperately feeding a rampaging chain of climaxes. Her butt slams and pulls, jerking him forward and back when he tries to ride the bucking!

(I can’t get out!)

“More, my guest? Unsatisfied…”

“Ugh!? No…! Pull me…!”

Another mistaken impression locks Adris in between a bouncing butt and a stern maid, whose “aid” accepts less than his total pacification.

(… It’s horrible to be the bottom! I don’t like fucking in a… disconnect between hearts!?)

Three bodies want only release for themselves, ignoring the rhythms of the others. Hoime is only fortunate that her random actions aid in the allure of the ever-rising music’s tension to entice Lycia over the precipice herself.

Sharp strings plucked fight the beating of racing drums, earning yells.

“… YES, YES, YESYESYES,

SO… GOOD! FINALLY…!”

Lycia’s legs crush the bunny to her slit, the slurping ending with a mashing. A monster leans in to wrap around a twitching ear with her tongue, savoring the flavor.

“C-Cumming…! Guuuh!

HAAAAH, HAAAH! A-ADRISSSSSS!”

(OH!? At least she’s thinking of me!)

Dandy musicians crowd around the star guest who finally earns Adris’ approval, exulting in Lycia’s spastic twists on the bed. Claws dragging into the bedtop, she demands…

“Aaaah, more, AAAAAAAAAAAAAH!

OOOOOOOOOOH!”

As before with his own dutiful work, a calamitous current of pleasure radiates through Lycia that confuses her whole body.

“M-Moooore!!!”

“HACK, GAH…!”

Hoime escapes the ghoul’s grip instead of giving more, dodging from the whining mistress’ lazy swipes.

“AhHaHaHa…! I… hate… taste… corpse, uuuhh…”

“… Back…! Come back… Do… more…!”

Rigidity assails Adris’ sister, who collapses with a sigh into the pillows stacked behind.

(You’re gonna be sorry, Hoime!)

For a few merciful moments only, there is peace in the room with Lycia’s breathing halting.

The musicians finish this latest seductive piece, firmly moving into a more somber tune that sends shivers up Adris’ back.

“… haaaaaAAAAAAH!”

One mighty breath renews the green fire behind Lycia’s blank eyes. Hands clamp onto Hoime’s skull, wrenching the laughing bunny’s head.

“GWAH!?”

“… haaaaaAAAAAAAH! You~uuUU BITCH.” An ecstatic, relaxed expression stretches into a monstrous visage with a bone to chew. “Why do only… you get to go off like a bomb, but not me!?”

“M-MERSHIIIIII!”

“In… in the first place, who said you could stop licking when I’m cumming!?”

Bone pops from Lycia’s palms flattening.

Pressure at the top makes the tired rabbit’s overly stretched hole finally clench too tight.

(STOP! I’M STUCK IN HERE!)

“How can you call yourself, haaah, a woman and not be half as good with your tongue as this jackass is!?”

“DON’T… DON’T LIKE WOMEN!? DON’T KNOW HOW, WHAT…!?”

Lycia’s jealous gaze and pouting lips light a smirking inferno in Adris, which she notices sufficiently to click her tongue at his grinning.

(Ahaha! I’m unbeaten!)

“With as many dicks as you’ve ‘tested’, did you never learn to suck even a single one decently!? JUST DO THAT!”

“… CAME, BUT, BUT YOU CAME!”

“Have you never considered… that I might want to cum… MORE THAN ONCE!? What do you think I am, a one-shot man!?”

“UUUUUuuuuuuuhhh…!”

“Have you never had a decent tongue before mine!? Or is it you’re just too full of dick to bother thinking about anything else, like your safety?”

“HI-GHI! AAAAAHHHHHHaaaaaah!!”

Another set of holes are about to be poked into floppy ears, prompting tears to restart.

(Too greedy, you get what you deserve.)

It was plain to Adris that, when Hoime was exuberant to allow Lycia to ready the “surrendering” Adris for a second juicing, in terms of providing “service” the pleading Hoime is beyond salvation. Since she’s only been trained to receive excellence without giving it, it’s too late to learn when even her future is on the line.

(Which is what you’d expect from someone who is used to winning. The strong don’t need to learn to please others. Instead, they just dem—!)

“IF YOU’RE GOING TO DO A JOB, AT LEAST BE BETTER THAN WORTHLESS…!”

[If you’re going to be mine, then you can’t be less than useless…]

(Huh?)

A voice resembling Fehr’s comes not from behind or up his neck bone, but deep from within his Inner Expanse.

It rumbles, approaching as a mounted messenger at the city’s gates during a quiet night from a disconnected, foreign land. Shakes the world almost imperceptibly to others; yet, the very distant ring of bells that ripples along the walls and sends half-formed bodies dancing in the shadows likely proves what sends it.

(Oh… is this another vision of [Genuine Fiction]? It’s about time I got some useful guidance!)

Lamenting how they appear at seeming random, Adris greedily calms and prepares for his sight to be taken by a new memory. Any useful tidbit will aid in refining Fehr’s plan to make it foolproof.

(Such a wonderful power! What will you show me this time~?)

But, his twitching eyes don’t merely see double.

Instead, beginning from the corners of his eyes, encroaching darkness narrows vision and sends him swaying. It numbs his precise senses to external sensations.

(… Wait… wait, what’s…?)

“… SO GET BACK, hoooh… YOU SOGGY, BLOATED, WHITE CREAM PUFF, haaah…!”

[… I am the Will’s voice, and so… ‘you are to be my will demonstrated to others’. Isn’t that ‘artful’ like you always want me to be…?]

Lycia’s raging cry is muted by another’s voice cutting halfway through her own, the chilling tone overlaying Lycia’s words with a hateful dissonance.

“… GET BACK DOWN THERE… AND FINISH…!”

“S-SHORRRRRYYYYYY!”

“You’re gonna be really sorry if I have to show you how to treat a lady right again…”

Adris’ hand covers the blinding sight of the domineering Lycia burying the bunny’s face into her soaked crotch anew, while his other fumbles to hang on to who he’s connected to still.

That touch upon Hoime’s soft skin becomes more strict, invitingly attractive but also firmer. Creamy-colored, partly furred legs start to shift into darker thighs ending in bird flesh and taloned feet.

(Who…!?)

Colors are changing, altering to join with the shadows drawing in accompanied by howls of outrage. A shrill whistle in his ears is intensifying and bleeding out from the floor with the mist rising from it. This cold increases the damage done to his consciousness each passing second that it licks at his skin.

(Where… where is this noise coming from!?)

Connecting from nothing else but the manse this mist does, an ever-increasing deluge of sights, sounds, and feelings collapses on top of him.

(It’s not from Fehr that… the visions arise! I’m… I’m fine, though! I’ll be fine…)

No fool is Adris, for his mentality has withstood far worse on Xin.

Every Technique demanded his mind to be unbending star metal. When it did bend, he merely became the stronger of the currents upon him.

All truths could be accepted, joined with, or allowed to wash over ungathered.

(Mysteries… are just truths, in a different way, yeah, so why shouldn’t one be more intense than another…!?)

“—wrong—?”

Fehr’s arms tighten around him, though too late to break him free.

The voice that is hers from outside of his mind speaks something, but he can no longer hear anything but the shrill whistle and the implacable voice of a much colder feminine ruler.

[Do you remember what you are?]

More than mist, arms wrap around Adris’ body!

Made of blackest night and squeezing with more force than even Kol possesses.

(This isn’t safe!)

In their pooling clutches, the sound of metal wrenching slowly begins when the cloud prevented from fully enveloping him twists.

“—my guest—?”

(W-What is this mist!?)

Some great square cage, one flaring into existence in total defense of his self, is finally recognized by the world as Adris’ private prison of black steel. This frightening eldritch defender made of scarred metal, which also has no welds or rivets, glows with twisted defiance of the mist; but, then…

(Why a cage?)

“‘Friends’, run!”

… is torn asunder before his eyes by the grasping fog, the sound of a muffled girlish warning fading with the steel’s silencing. The bent and torn cage dissolves into shaking black particles that gather at his chest to hide.

(Rantil…!)

“—guest—are you—!?”

After cracking the egg’s shell,

the runny yolk inside is tainted with rot.

(SHIT!)

Pounding like a foreign heartbeat through him, this almighty poison infiltrates through his pores. An unknown fluid courses through arteries that should carry only lifeblood.

It worms directly into his hidden private world within, without a single barrier withstanding, paralyzing him and clouding his gaze.

[‘Only a servant who fulfills their function is useful’. I hear this very often from a proud idiot, so…?]

(… the… fuck is your servant!?)

[Time for my personal toy to shine… you useless Dummke.

Now, tell me…]

A fall through endless darkness places him before a familiar sight of white bounciness. Just as he was above, Adris stands half-bared, and plunging beneath cheeks and legs spread wide.

Except he’s slightly taller, with long limbs shedding their ungainly youth.

[How does it feel?]

(I’m an adult again? And that’s tight…!)

In contrast to the bottom that had a creamy-puffed up tail and plump thighs, now a cultivated, yet vivacious, body just ascending into the true blooming refinement of womanhood is presented for the plucking. Elastic only after gently popping open the resisting walls, Adris feels his length pressing in until he can’t force further. The warmth that meets him is suffocating and strangely anticipatory, the musk of her wetness stripping him of too much reason.

(Why is only half of her here!?)

Eager to feel his fingers sinking in for grip, this restrained torso comes from a hole in the wall that looks as if it is growing a person instead of a plant. Protruding rock encases legs pulled open and wide, allowing the captured specimen to kneel in the air at his crotch height.

Swirling cuts in the stone radiate out from this hole set up to anonymously milk whoever steps up to jam their cock inside, with gems lodged in the booth-like chamber’s walls he awakens within that let him grasp every detail of his claim.

Balls deep into a twitching harpy bottom, this body that no longer belongs to Adris halts after a few timid thrusts.

“Haah…! She’ll hate me even more if she discovers it’s me.”

Though he can think, Adris hasn’t found the capacity to speak. In a voice familiar to him by now, a deeper-sounding Fehl instead whines with resentment at the situation.

“Anyone else of sufficient pedigree, of decent blood… would’ve served, so why…!?”

[I didn’t ask that. Resume your duty.]

“… Ah… of-of course.”

A disembodied demand that seems to come from all around continues to sound like Fehr. But it’s not stern in tone, yet kind, truthful to that naive child’s.

It’s brimming full of a lethal intensity that licks at Adris’ neck, this cold and slimy leech preparing to suck.

[How does she feel, Dummke? This “stuck-up” lady’s maid who always harasses you?]

“… As I’ve said, I don’t see her that way…!”

[You’ve harmed what’s mine, so tell me the truth.]

“… nor did I want to… such a thing as… this! You know what I’ve said, and I told no lies, but, you…!”

(But you are a shitty liar! I can feel how badly you burn to just… keep ramming until you can’t do anything but…!?)

When the one commanded to continue does so, the tightness that sloshes with dutiful thrusts transmits more than pure recollection from a vision. As carnally satisfying as his favorite wet dreams, Adris shares through the experience of another the moment that something is taken forever. If compared to his conquests and humiliations, it would be the same realness as when he claimed Ave and Kol, and…

(Ahh, why can I share in it, too!? More than sensation, I know what draws his eyes…)

Red vigor drips from where they join, this inflamed slit that has been pierced. Clumsily and with great trembling, the trapped figure responds to the thrusts. Every counter-movement is a sugary spark on the tongue for the “dutiful” servant.

“She… she knows, somehow! Already she wants out, away from me…!”

[Paranoid, as usual. I rely on you never once changing, Dummke.]

(“Get away”!? She’s trying to get you deeper!)

“And I rely on waking up to… guh, chide you every morning for these sorts of evil choices yesterday!”

[Isn’t this just a “duty”? Or is duty evil.]

“… If you… expose yourself and me, for the lord’s sake! I cannot… be known to cavort with… monsters, and still keep you ‘the choice’ to come…!”

Again, Fehl’s vision shifts to all around him.

Checking closely for what isn’t ordinary, even in this unusual situation.

[‘More than a present, a page harpy is an investment’… or so says the all-mighty and all-knowing family head. Do you oppose his simple-headed decree?]

“Do… not slander him, hooh!”

Despite wanting to maintain control and be finished, the slow piston Fehl enters into accomplishes the opposite. Prolonging his own orgasm and aiding in the pleasure of the unknown harpy who keeps curling her feet with each push, it also confuses his priorities further.

“We knew the requirements…! You must maintain appearances, at least until after! He is not… cruel, or indifferent to—!”

[More interested in a man than her, even after feeling her affection inside? So, you are stupid, and ignorant, and also instead a lover of…?]

“Fine, fine!”

Adris’ shared body hits to a stop, huffing at the voice and loosening a tied cloth at its neck. Still wearing all but pants that were allowed to drop, it’s as if this servant is merely taking a break from regular duties to release tension.

“I’m always ignorant to you, but I won’t… be thought… queer! I’ll carry out any task, as long as it… no, she won’t cause issues after!”

[Of course…we can always rely on you, Dummke, hah.]

(Why is the voice laughing under her breath? Guh!)

Again the pistoning starts, this time speed picking up.

Within this tight booth, the air is stale and hot with two sexual bodies working. Sweat that drips onto the harpy causes a stir just as expectantly as every push.

[Always jealous for approval…?]

“I need no approval. I exist to… I serve only…! The only worthwhile… ooh, one is you, so command me!”

[How needlessly, endearingly loyal. If you were a girl, this might be cruel?]

“Haha! You’d still… torment me…!”

Fehl tears free the lasso at his neck, letting his neck cool.

(How can serving someone well include such a lewd and humbling punishment?)

Adris feels a clever smile creep past the gloomy realization that he’s being helplessly strung along, for in torment Fehl paradoxically finds excitement.

Two bodies collide, one without knowing the instigator’s face, and the other without being allowed to witness the result. They do so under the sole guidance of their unknown master, and at least one servant is losing track of his reasons for opposing it.

“I am here… hooh, to make sure you achieve… everything…”

[Soon…]

“… Yes, soon…! But, until then, you need me! And I will bring you to the top, for I… am only yours, *****!”

All for this one’s glory, he stupidly boasts while slamming into a plump butt like a monkey.

(Why are you enjoying being tortured!?)

[Very charming, my arrogant, so-very-perfect toy…]

With every word that echoes from the walls, condescension and jealousy form a poisonous mixture that drips to become fumes.

That noxious, stale air Fehl suffocates in suddenly whips about when the rock walls begin to scrap.

[… but not charming enough, unseen. Show everyone else how well you serve your *****, too.]

Around and especially behind, the walls easily scrape open.

(What is this nightmare?)

Fehl slams to a stop in fright. Born under the wings of a great jackdaw statue, at its feet is the wall that Fehl faces in duty.

He and the sweat-slicked torso he manhandles are the easy spectacle for those in U-shaped raised seating curving around a tall room, where many witnesses now lift hands to cover mouths in shock and stifle near outcries.

“… What… how… can you…?”

[I have a bet, that you’ll either break, finally, or flee with your dick hanging out.]

Unwilling to draw his cock out to be seen and prove her right, Fehl can only cling to his favorite rump and await judgment for breaking a holy rule.

“… I will not run!”

Adris intimately feels the heartbreak of being witnessed by those three seated higher than the rest. Darkness obscures them, because the light of gems only radiates toward Fehl.

[Which will it be, Dummke?]

There’s no need to wonder at their relationships after the first exuberantly speaks over the disembodied mistress who projects hate, for all three provoke long-held emotions within Fehl:

“Consternation”, “Rivalry”, and “Idolization”.

“Falke? Oh, my, *****, what a truly compelling choice!” A sickly fattened tone comments from the left that makes Fehl’s guts churn, laughing in surprise before gushing about him. “If it’s such a reliable boy like Falke, her get will hardly be lacking! I applaud you, convincing this prodigious boy to… well, rut a monster, no matter the necessity. Fufu, I hope there are many future products, congratulations!”

[… Then, I have your approval?]

“Without a doubt. I wish I had twenty acolytes half of his measure! Full marks for your solution.”

The distant master’s question and the tittering reward of an answer earns murmurs from the dark figures in the lower audience who wear wide-brimmed hats.

In unanimity, they pull them off to hold them before their hearts.

(… What is this spectacle? Have they come to see prized pets breed?)

“I’d always thought him… and his upbringing of another, somewhat… lacking.”

The next commentator to the right of the center leans toward the light. Wearing a grand wig with tails, his clothing appears utterly servile in comparison to his powdered face and waxed mustache directly assault Fehl’s current lack of proper dress.

(Why do you look so interested in me!?)

The man gives one side a twirl, inspecting Fehl’s thrusting posture so severely that the outwardly composed boy almost bolts; but, then this terror only coughs before continuing, “Clearly, sacrificing himself in your service without a shred of insincerity to his efforts… deserves great praise, so I will apologize for doubting you. I also grant full marks for your choice, though not without some reservations for your past excesses, [Inheritress].”

At the agreement of this stern man, those who wear the same-colored uniforms as Fehl also murmur and nod their heads. Their approval cannot shut out the aura of revulsion many exude to the point of feeling pitiful for his situation.

It stabs Fehl’s heart that they feel this, an unreasonable number of thoughts at this public humiliation nearly within reach of Adris’ understanding.

[My Falke has always been your best.]

The mistress’ declaration sweeps over the assembled, silencing their conversations.

“Hah! Whelps, always and forever, both of you are to me! He will, of course, have to finish inside, so have fun breeding that beast.” Refusing to stay and spectate, the man’s seat lowers by its own volition the moment he waves his hand. “Still, I’m glad that you’re no longer such a mangy hyena, girl, and that he’s no longer just a preening goose who dreams of shitting gilded eggs…”

A private laugh trails after this man’s departure, some in the assembly chuckling at his comment as politely as possible.

All here agree on one thing: the beautiful body trapped in stone is to be reviled.

Nobody, however, bothers explaining why a “beast” should be hated.

(If I was asked, I’d say you’re the hateful ones, not this boy or his “duty”.)

The murmur of roaring whispers groans in assent to this condemnation, but attention given is drawn back to the one seated center when he at last gives judgment.

“…

… Huh. You’ve finally made a hard choice, for once in your life.”

[… As…! As you say… glorious Speaker for the Will.]

A somber, carefree sort of older tone cuts through the prestige of this gathering that mocks others. Even the despising tyrant who speaks through stone sounds as awestruck by these simple words as the rest.

(Awestruck, but also angry?)

“If you can make a choice like this, and still hold another’s trust…”

Toward Fehl this hidden man looks, opening his eyes. Depthless, shining blue trumping Fehl’s own, in a moment they take in all that he is and all that he ever will be.

Where others are awestruck, Fehl chooses to not breathe until the man’s final words are spoken. Closer to Fehl’s center of worth than the other two, his judgment decides Fehl’s own reason for living.

The boy lifts his chin, more ashamed than fearful, before nodding once in a subtle way.

(… Stay away from that one…!)

The spine tingling warning Adris feels, the sheer horror at the notion that this man even sees through to the shadow dragged into a memory, reminds him of Fatso’s predilection for striking later upon private realizations.

“… I’ll set a date for the investiture, when the Will decides it prudent, of course.”

[I’ll be sure to hear it when you can’t, near-deaf geezer.]

Though the obnoxious reply bites with naked venom, and should bring total condemnation from all present…

“… Huh, haha! Always a precocious little backbiter, Cute *****.”

Not even Fehl blinks at the insult, only watching the elder’s seat get pulled back to be absorbed into the very stone wall he sat before.

As if neither he nor the rest comprehend, other than to grow curious at the gentleman’s last comment.

[… You said that she hates you, Dummke?]

“Huh!?”

From those who understand too little about these twins, as Adris can now grasp, Fehl returns his attention to the one who might understand everything. Averting his eyes, the chosen stud whispers.

“It is, well, clear by now, that she despises me no matter how much I…”

[I see.] The rest of his reply is cut short, before an impishness creeps in. [Do you hate her back~?]

“I don’t hate her. I, not even once, said I did. I’ve never even implied it…”

Sight shifts fluidly to the cringing body that is impaled upon his length. As impatient as can be, even trapped by stone it seeks to be in motion. Left unable to glide on his dick, the walls continually squeeze and release, milking with a fervor Adris can only say he’s felt from inhuman pussies.

(Gods above the black clouds…! Fuck her!)

Infectious is the need.

Felt from her core and rushing to coax his own, Adris feels the dark thoughts of this phantasmal place piercing into his own libido.

[I believe you. Since you’ll both eagerly play without me, one day, I demand that you…]

Light flashes through the stone before him.

Transparency replaces gray stone, gems flooding away too not to rest between Fehl’s view of the delectable white bodies embraced on the other side.

(Really… really familiar.)

Fehl leans back, more struck by this erotic surprise than even his own forced reveal.

On the other end of a glass-like barrier that traps her end, a familiar fellow worker lies fixed with the posture of a mutt and completely exposed.

Her face is between the legs of a beauty that has never grown old to him, only more intoxicating each time she’s exposed. Though Adris would think her a servant in the waking world, here she owns a long evening robe bearing her own crest, one that clings to far too few places. It’s colored a private dark-green velvet that’s pulled open and uncaring of any viewing outsiders, for she’s certain they’re “alone”.

(… You’re actually too sensual for me when naked, Fehr. That’s why I have to turn away.)

Not quite as old as the Fehr that awoke this morning, yet much matured in comparison to the child who dutifully holds his hand while traipsing through the halls, this Fehr lounges like a ghoul queen would within the concealing jackdaw statue.

But there’s no disdain for the treasure that laps at her own trove, all soft sighs instead and loving touches to the licking pet’s neck. Adris wonders if he’d clamber for a chance to try her now, because this angry Fehr has something that the waking one lacks. With how she could be framed as a painting, if only any artist could prevent themselves from trying to add to the scene, Adris must wonder at the source of her appeal.

(Hate is strangely seductive if it’s yours? You have fewer curves, and smaller breasts, than other women, but that icy draw is quite superb.)

“*****… you… you’re here? If they see…?”

“They don’t even see their noses.”

So erotic it is, to be exposed in plain sight under the guise of distance, of subtle power strangling the decorum that demands one hide one’s naked self.

(Oh, yes, that’s a good impression! That’s what I meant by “ruling in dark”…!)

Adris’ stares at her family emblem, wondering what he’d feel in her place as the one seated upon the perch of power, instead. If it would satisfy the burgeoning visions of others taking a harpy’s place, perhaps, if a cross were the emblem he sat under with four girls at his knees…

“They only see the… hah, perfect princess you’re wanting, stupid Dummke. Not the ‘sickness’ inside, or us ‘monster lovers’? Maybe I’m just a girl who loves staring at their retarded faces, even though they don’t get it!” Through the glass Fehr whispers, her bodily voice childishly haughty and also disrespectful of life not her own.

“Only feet away, and they want my ‘voice’, not me…”

The “disembodied commander that speaks with more clarity and reluctance to accept ‘no’” is the persona that has the authority others crave, not the more honest source of it.

(I… I get that.)

Alone in her own world, Fehr is exasperated by the pleasure she’s gaining from a trapped servant. One hand is loving of the harpy slave, while the other cradles an orb of platinum and gems that shines with a blinding green starlight.

She’s drunk on something far more refined than even honey wine.

[… tell him how you truly feel, Sapphira. I order you.]

When the booming voice that is Fehr’s will demands from the beating walls, the mistress’ corporeal body pulls the hungry bird up to chirp for her.

“Huuuh!? *****, ahhh, m-mistress!? It’s stopped! Please, let me…!”

“Yes, pretty bird, tell him what you need.”

“… He can hear!?”

Straining against her bonds, the sloppy songbird with mussed hair turns as far as she can toward Fehl and starts to sing.

“MORE~! MORE… INTO ME~!

PLEASE!”

That plump behind begins to wiggle, knowing now that Fehl can hear her begging.

“… S-Sapphira…”

“FALKE! FAAA~AAALKE! I LIKE IT! IT FEELS GOOD, NO PAIN!?”

“… How… can I?”

Giving up on wiggling left and right when he can only blankly respond, the horny harpy instead lifts and drops her bottom to try, unsuccessfully, to force her own satisfaction.

“YOU! I WANT YOU! YOUR CHICKS! YOUR CHILDREN!? I’LL HAVE THEM ALL!

… I DON’T, HATE! ALWAYS, ALWAYS WANTED TO SAY THAT I…! SO, MAKE ME FEEL GOOD, MORE!?

AHHHH—!?”

The begging bitch of a bird sighs loudly with his grip reflexively growing tighter. Her musical allure hardens and thickens his response inside her submissive, newly broken hole.

“… Me? You’d desire…?”

A relationship totally new sparks between the two, with unspoken physical recognition of each other that a phantom outsider and narrow-eyed mistress can both drown in when studying them.

“This… this can’t be… Sapphira as normal, surely you poiso—!?”

[Silence. You truly are ‘Dummke’ if you’d believe that.]

(Did he really not know?)

Adris has met many men who failed to meet the gazes of potential amorous partners, always offered without blatant invitation and, yet, still easy enough for Adris to note in passing. For one such as Fehl to misjudge even screeching need, looking for some way out…

(Why refuse her, then and now!? It’s obvious that…)

It’s inconceivable to imagine, especially given how this eager begging grows as violent as restraints permit.

“FALKE! FALKE! FALKEEEEE!”

[When others presented, she turned her head in silence. For you? She said: “If you desire it, mistress.”]

“BABIES! YOURS! NO OTHERS!

PLEASE, I WANT MORE OF…!

AHHnnn—!?”

“Quiet, Sapphira…!”

That unseen face of Sapphira’s that is no doubt destroyed by greedy need is dragged back between Fehr’s legs. Though the older twin closes her eyes after flicking them upward in ecstasy, content to regain the slurping tongue that begs for breeding, there’s a sinister pallor to her complexion ever after.

[So, you will tell her no like a coward, won’t you.]

“… Impossible.”

A single word can’t refute the eagerness which Fehl finds himself launching into, though.

Rough and crude, without a hint of technique, the young man starts to deliver a good pounding to the struggling bird in his clutches.

To the horror of the spectators who remain when most have left, one of their human own indulges in exuberant carnality with an inhuman temptress locked in stone.

“I stayed… away!”

[Everything was ruined the moment we met. I demand you make it much worse.]

Fehr’s red face sneers with unreserved dissatisfaction, though the disembodied voice she booms out with maintains composure lacking with her true self.

[You were my toy before she was. Well, now I’ll have more.]

“… I don’t wish…!”

[“Whatever it takes to make you break”.]

“… Ugh…!”

The imperious mistress on the other side lifts the glowing orb toward Fehl, letting it roll round with her fingers as she rubs Sapphira’s hanging breasts with her hooked under legs.

Adris catches glimpses of dark figures around him, walking and chatting with the outlines of a childlike harpy and two other youths. Both are committed to this path of sexually degrading a mutual other to them, though the phantoms noisily chitter about brighter aims.

(What is this feeling…!?)

The tempting, repulsive attraction that draws him to the Fehr that hates isn’t based on her exposed, milky breasts or gentle curves. Seeing past the genuine distaste and longing to harm, Adris cannot help but gravitate toward the primal feeling of supremacy this jilted female exudes.

Though their shared lives and burdens scream of painful, unsaid things, in this moment there is, clearly,

THE WEAK

and

THE STRONG.

[“I will become the greatest family head there has ever been”, so you will obey me, as you promised, until you break.

—Forever—.]

“Yes…! YES, *****!”

Inciteful and self-loathing while recounting this, the voice of the mistress still makes Fehl’s loins shiver when she declares how the future will unfold.

(Her demanding… ugh!? Just her demands, drives you wild!?)

The audience gasps when the chosen stud screams loudly enough to crowd them all out!

[Now, I command you: Breed Sapphira as if you’re raping her.]

“Hah…! YES! GLADLY!”

(They’re… all insane…?)

Fehl ignores all but this glorious pronouncement, no matter Adris’ confusion.

The trapped page harpy’s slurping grows sloppier with her bottom becoming battered by an eager male. Once his chosen mistress commanded it, all doubt, all hesitation slid away from his actions.

[Break and run!? Cry and beg!? Which do you choose, now, Dummke!?]

“Neither, I will… EXCEL, for you!”

Fehl’s head slams once against the transparent stone, wanting to be on the other side so that his words are not muffled.

“ALL FOR YOU, *****!

YOU ARE THE ONLY DESERVING ONE…! So tight, huuuh! MORE THAN ALL OTHERS!”

[Then… then you are a fool. I hate losing, and you made me lose! Now, to punish you, I’ll have you soil her inside forever, just like a dog would.]

To show his obedience, Fehl jackhammers Sapphira’s abused depths, taking great pleasure when his dubious enemy screams in rapture.

[The very moment I demand it, you will cum.]

“AS YOU WISH, *****!”

(What sort of society, no, relationship… makes this happen…?)

Swirling darkness floods toward the three of them, a whirlpool of emotions that Adris cannot explain, only experience, signaling the approaching conclusion of the dream.

One where triple forms locked in antagonistic pleasure, full of conflicting feelings and opposing intentions, momentarily exist at the same time as he and those Adris left behind.

(… Because it’s familiar… it forced itself into me…?)

“Dummke…!”

“Ah!?”

The transparent wall cracks with the impact of a thrown glowing orb, shining like the sun now with the sheer amount of phantasmal fuel flowing into it. Almost sliding into a rapid release with this violence, Fehl tightens up at the last second and stops thrusting once he catches notice.

Hands clamp over Sapphira’s ears, leaving her deafly whining with regret when isolated.

“Out of everyone in this evil family…

I hate you most of all.”

Fehr’s eyes glow with an inner power that’s not reflected by the eyes she captures in turn. Even without the orb, the earth groans loudly with anger that mirrors her own.

“…

… Yes, *****! I promise… never going… hooh, break, until you…!”

“I won’t stop until… until I… unh! Stomp you under my heel like the shit you are!”

“Haaah, ah, and, I will… never stop being yours, even after!”

For just a moment, Fehr’s scowl of incensed madness softens into a red-faced blank.

Her lips open timidly; but, then…

“AAAH!? S-Sapphira…!? You’re… very eager…!”

Fehr’s girlish cry interrupts the contest of wills, and she scoots back from the over-stimulating attention. A shy smile given to her female servant invites a misunderstanding.

“MORE! MORE! *****, HE’S SO BIG!

FA~ALKE, HE’S…!!”

“… Hah…?”

“Uh-yah!?”

Fehr’s flush and seductive, mantrap body rushes out to cling and drag Sapphira in. The glee Fehr showed when Sapphira gave her attention becomes a scowl, her blue eyes glinting green.

“Hahahahaha!”

A tenuous moment shatters with mindless pleasure wiping out any potential for change.

“Always… always about you, DUMMKE!”

Confusion evaporates. Only rage remains to be re-enshrined in Fehr’s inner spiritual temple.

[Fill her.]

“AHHH!? AAAAHHHHH, Ooooooh!”

“♫ ========————!”

Fehl’s thick spunk is jetting out the moment the walls order it.

A fountain of repressed lust and misunderstood intentions rectifies in the virile fluids which coat inside another. This hungry harpy that he can never own, the spite-fueled mistress that both serve and who covets them in turn, one screeches without words while the other appears to pass out into her pillows…

All involved voice their climactic longings in their own way, though who they’re directed at is left uncertain.

“I’ll… I’ll never… forget you…”

Fehl’s body lifelessly crumbles to blow away when his vitality is expended, loosening Adris’ grasp of up and down.

The scene starts to shatter, scattering into shards that dissolve into a dark mist. This fog flees the void encroaching to consume it, replacing past with nonexistence.

(GET OUT, GET OUT, GET OUT!)

Adris is forced to endure the collecting feelings and sensations, biting spectral gnats, that refuse to be eaten by the nothing closing on them. Stabbing at him like a million pins and trying to lodge in what he considers his most vulnerable, strongest place within, he can muster no defense against them.

(What the hell is wrong with these people!?)

With that poignant question,

Adris wakes up to carnage.

“MERSHHIIIIII!? AAAAAAHHHH!

NIIIAAAHHHHH!”

“SSSSHLRPPP! Mmmm~♥♥♥!”

The spinning, directionless world opens up to a blinking view of a predator devouring a soft target. Once Hoime was the giver, but another’s long tongue now demonstrates a lesson never to be forgotten.

Lycia’s face is between the rabbit’s fat thighs with the mystic on her back, legs dragged up into the air. Sucking, undulating marsh is what Adris hears, for a monster explores every last crevice with a hunger that can never be sated. It ignores the desperate kicks of a dying creature, trampling over sexuality and choice.

“That… thick tashte of life… washted inshide you! ♥”

“HUUUhhhh…!”

(Sis…)

Hoime collapses lifeless to the bed when Lycia drops the bunny, ripping her tongue out of the honey-licked hole that Adris left his proof of vitality in.

“Hmmmm~! Ahnd, ahem…!”

“EHGAH!?”

One last finger runs over the abused petals of Hoime’s flower and flicks her bean, causing the rabbit to flop wildly before curling up in shame.

“… That, is how you show a lady you care! What a depressing researcher you are, not even knowing basics of other disciplines, Hoime, ngha.” Lycia sucks on her finger, a youthful grin revealing. “Hmmm?” Her green-slit eyes roll curiously, like she’s considering the flavor in her mouth as her tongue swishes about.

“Does it taste better with a bitch’s honey added, left to ‘cook’ before sampling~? Maybe I should start a trial, gather some testers…?

—Ah?”

When Lycia notices those who can only mutely stare at her, the chatty researcher’s mouth drops.

“… I… I don’t like women.”

Immediately, she shifts in a snakelike creep to seat on the edge of the bed, crossing her legs to hide her own nakedness. More prim now, she rests a finger on her lips before announcing more important thoughts.

“It’s just… hard to hold back when the impulses and, well, the mood takes…? Ahaha, Adris, you’re actually a ‘hot-blooded’ kind of guy, so you understand how impossible it is for a strong woman to just ignore when you feel hot, right? How you just want to move with what your body tells you, and… and maybe taste different things, and…?

I’m perfectly normal, right~?”

Half-scarred by the dream he’s survived, Adris’ silence prompts a skittish Lycia to reveal sharp teeth with her inviting smile, growling deeply through them.

“RIGHT, lil bro?”

“… Yes. Yes, sis likes defenseless, corruptible little boys, so anything else is just a diversion…?

Uh!?”

Arms tighten protectively, swinging Adris away from his predatory kin. An implicit threat is one that his minder bristles at.

(Fehr is…?)

“Are you okay, now? My guest?”

The haunting voice is so similar, yet so different. As if the pieces necessary for the dream version are present, but don’t add up and possibly never will.

“Your existence felt… strange, for a moment…”

(Fehr! Who are…?)

“OH!? H-Hi, lil bro?”

Adris willingly ends up wrapped in Lycia’s arms instead, enjoying the coldness of her body in comparison to the inferno that is Fehr after the dream. The remnants of the collapsed memory prickle, lingering as goosebumps that Adris wants to be rid of even if it means rushing into a different sort of threat.

(Who the fuck is Fehr!?)

A form that she chose to please Adris’ command to “look like someone else” is no random one.

“What, what is wrong?” Fehr remains frozen, arms outstretched and looking between the siblings with a blank expression. “Did this… servant act inappropriately?”

(If it’s near her, the discord inside only grows worse!)

That chaotic friction between their presences, bearer of a cross that carries mysteries with it and a child of clay whose personality grows with each exposure to it, might tip her over into rebellion before revenge succeeds.

“You are perfect… Fehr. It’s just, we must hurry! That one’s influence is only growing stronger while we hesitate.”

“… AH! C-Correct!”

“You have a plan, of course? Then we must now implement it.”

“Yes, my guest! Please lead me.”

His eagerness leads to Fehr folding her hands before herself, a gentle grin of superiority showcasing that bedrock of confidence she’s built upon after experiencing Kol.

(Distrust is lethal! Redirect her thoughts, control what she sees, make her…)

The means of control are old, all of the misdirections innate to his repertoire.

Even in a state of panic like Adris finds himself in…

“Sis, what is needed for you to maintain a neglected Regalia?”

(I have to get out of here.)

Within this room which smells of trysting bodies, the dark thoughts and feelings of the manse are still gathering. Whatever protection Adris held to keep them at bay was proved utterly insufficient.

“… This makes twice!”

“Oh!?”

In the embrace of another, Adris doesn’t find security with this hiss. Instead, he recalls how much Lycia hates certain deeds.

(I dragged her into this deal…!)

“Decide what’s good for me just one—more—time, lil bro…”

“GIH!?”

Her hand slaps at his softened cock, before cupping under his balls and lifting harshly.

“… and I’ll start deciding everything for…”

“NUH!? Sis!”

The kiss she plants on his ear is steamy, but also criminal.

“I’m not going to put up with—!”

“Sorry, this was absolutely all my fault.”

Though he must whisper this, he in no way sounds insincere. A fact which jolts Lycia into changing her tone.

“Huh!? You apologized pretty easily…?”

“Of course, because I’ll fix this for you. So, let’s just… pretend none of this ever happened?”

“Right, let’s do that! At least… publicly…?”

(Is it fine in private!? Why am I already horny!?)

Deep in his chest, the chains that threaten to halt his heart if he doesn’t claim a female are clinking. Lycia’s reluctance to merely forget this encounter, letting him linger in her female smell, is now worsening his condition.

(The curse has resumed, and it’s even grabbed onto my own! Darkness invaded me!?)

Adris’ pants cinch themselves harshly closed, far too tight, when he leaps up. Avoiding all further touches, he turns and offers a plaintive lifting of his hands.

“The… the Regalia, sis? How do we restart one?”

“Haaah, right, those? Even if neglected, the frame’s restoration won’t be hard to fake.”

Lycia cricks her neck and then hurls one of her packs onto the bed, rolling it on top of the corpse already occupying it.

“HYAH!?”

“Scram, meat! All of you spies, too!”

At the mood shifting, the Dandies who were still playing abruptly end the piece that was changing in fluidity with the emotions surrounding them. They nod stiffly and retrieve what they brought in.

“Except that.”

Lycia slaps away a Dandy that was reaching for the spiced meats, earning a mute huff of indignation before it waddles away.

“… But the frame ain’t the issue. If you want the Regalia to work like it should, not just lurching around because she fills it full-a pseudoprósōpon…”

She unrolls a thick parchment to lay out, pointing to a circular object among many drawn upon it.

“… then you’ll need a fresh [globus terrae] (EARTH SPHERE) to power its mystical instruments.”

(It looks like the communion orb Neesiette made?)

“Do you know where these are kept, Fehr?”

“Unfortunately, this servant does not. Aside from the parade yard and arena, no other locations are recalled that are related to the Regalia.

Hmm…?”

When Fehr joins them, Adris puts Lycia between them to keep distance.

“Would the one within the Regalia not suffice, lady ghoul?”

“Hah! No, that is the one component that requires constant maintenance or it will degrade beyond repair. Considering how old they were when used in the Vohldok Principality…?”

“The slave didn’t mention where they’re kept during ‘conversation’.”

Both ladies look to the broken figure that can only breathe harshly, desperate for air after so many orgasms that her brain might’ve fixed its broken design.

“… not found, don’t know, please, leave me alone…”

After mewing this, the bunny claws for the edge of the bed in a slow attempt to escape.

(That bastard Falke said that “earth spirits” were what Neesiette was hearing? Ave said that as long as the spirits are present, they’ll respond, but…?)

If it’s earth they need…?

“Hey, sis? Does the source of the spirit energies matter?”

“No, likely not. I’ve seen contraptions like these Regalia in action before, or rather, what’s left of them after I’ve actioned~? The orb fits within a cradle from the back, about yea big…”

Using her arms, Lycia stretches to imply a sphere quite a bit larger than herself.

“So long as there’s no restrictions on its outflow, even raw spiritus crystals from an elemental Demesne will work if stuffed in. But good luck finding some with the purity and reserves you need~!”

(That’s what I’m counting on.)

“Luck is my guarantee. I’ll have you a core for the Regalia within, say…”

Adris daringly holds a finger up, trying to regain some of his lost bravado.

“A ‘short’?”

“PFFT!?” Lycia’s hand muffles her mirth, but the ghoul can’t help but pat Adris on the head before mussing his hair up. “And where are you, oh mighty dark lord, going to find a source of earth elemental power outputting about, hmm, five-point-seven times the standard emissions of a naturally forming spir—!?”

Adris’ nasty grin and piercing glare sends Lycia creeping back once she catches on.

“AAAH!?”

(You’re as smart as I am!)

But as he steals her hand with his mid-leap, leaving the researcher rubbing that captured arm like she’s cold…

“Come on sis, it’ll be fun.”

“I’m not going to strap myself in wi—!”

(But, this is the quickest solution in the world.)

“You’ll be safe with Still’s help.”

“Uh, no, the containment… I can’t say that it won’t just melt do—!?”

“Nonsense, nobody is better than you at tools and mechanisms, sis, there’s zero risk!”

To hide his own discomfort at being near her, Adris slaps Lycia on her bare ass. She bites her lip and reddens deeply from the strike.

“Little imp, I’ll dice you into cubes for stew…”

“As expected! My mercenary is worth her payment in every way.”

“Ahaha! Yeah, I am pretty special! But, no, this isn’t…”

Fehr intervenes with praise at just the right moment, crowding out the ghoul and allowing Adris to climb onto the bed.

Stalking after prey that awakens out of its fugue with a startled lunge for safety, Adris obtains the necessary equipment for his next jaunt into the manse.

“I’ll yank these carrots out if you try that again.”

“Furniture, furniture, aaaaaalways furniture, aHaHaHa!”

With two ears in his hands, Adris makes certain to stare down into Hoime’s face with the same sort of dominance that he witnessed in an energizing, and horrifying, dream.

“Show me how potent your mind is, Hoime.”

(And help me figure out who Fehr is before she does, and I somehow die or get possessed!)

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