With my aching hand that could no longer hold a pen I rubbed my sore and unfocused eyes. It was a vain attempt to cure myself of this blurred vision. Yet after a quick succession of blinks, what awaited them were not relief, but mountains of unfinished paperwork. I let loose a sigh of resignation and leaned back in my chair. A resounding choir of cricks and cracks filled the air as my spine snapped back into its proper alignment. That feeling was divine, but not to be outmatched by the bliss of allowing my sore eyes to look at something so distant, like the ceiling.

 

     “I'm starting to think they're taking advantage of me,” I grumbled to myself.

 

Oh, Laven, you are so dependable, said the girls, In their own words, or from the looks in their eyes. A few days ago I had been on the verge of succumbing to cabin fever, so I reckoned a distraction would be welcomed. Now I had become a prisoner of their expectations. At first I fancied the belief that some work could whip my wits back into shape. What I got for all my trouble is a headache. At least this migraine pulled my attention off my aching hips and sore loins, caused by the only other distraction to be had around here...

 

To perish the thought I shook my head and then mournfully slumped back over the stacks of paper. Line upon line of an alien language. A learning experience, to be sure, something different, most definitely; but far from a pleasurable one. While the Empire's Lingua Franca sounds exactly like English, its written word of it is a different beast entirely.

 

While the Empire was being stitched together about a thousand years ago its second Emperor forced it upon the whole continent. A standardization of its measures and scales, so if I learned it I'd finally have all the bare essentials under my belt. No longer would I have to put up with the embarrassment of illiteracy. My chaotic adventures had postponed these lessons for long enough. Now I was missing the Spartan death hikes through the wilderness. At least there's fresh air, or a pair of round hips marching in front of me instead of flat paper laying about...

 

It will be good practice, I had told myself. It's one language, I had reassured myself. Once you've got it down you don't have to feel embarrassed playing dumb anymore.... Now I'm kicking myself for being too proud to ask Susan for more help.

 

Next to those countless documents were my copious notes. Susan helped make me cheat sheet of sorts, because many of the documents were too byzantine for me. These notes were actually in English too. With nothing more than a few hours she started figuring out the rest, more or less. This either comes naturally to her, or she enjoys it immensely. I leaned toward the latter, because the pages were covered in little doodles trying to visually explain concepts... If I called them doodles to her face instead of hieroglyphics she'd subject me to another twenty minute lecture. At least!

 

And what a mess this whole system is! There's a separate rune for each and phonetic utterance which sounded simple enough, but translating them over from English took ten times longer then I thought it would. It was never a one to one ratio, because you have to add on another fifteen or so additional characters that didn't have a parallel in the alphabet... Then you add the unique runes for proper nouns... It made my head hurt.

 

     “I should have kept my big mouth shut,” I chastised myself with a hefty sigh while messaging my temples.

 

With a deep sigh I slumped my shoulders and found myself back at all this unfinished work. There's no way I'm going to get any more work done today... Or would that be tonight? It was always night time in Yaleria, or I suppose that would be Greater Yaleria now. If I had known how much paper work there would be in making Yaleria 'Greater' I would have feigned being invalid a little longer. It is too late for that now, but I decided to make the best of this small break I've made for myself. A quick change clothes, a splash of water to my face to make myself more presentable, and braved the palace once more.

 

It occurred to me then that I've been alone in my room—alone—for hours. I did a quick glance over my shoulder to see if Minte was skulking in the shadows, but didn't catch her peeking around a corner before darting out of sight, as was her custom. I cupped my hand to my ear, but didn't hear boisterous laughter from Rose or Chris. No goosebumps on the back of my neck, so that meant Ba'el isn't scheming anywhere nearby either... By process of elimination, it's Susan's turn to have dropped by.

 

The mystery of her tardiness got my attention. I had left my room on a whim, but now I had a goal, an excuse, to carry me onward. If there was anyone who could offer a helping hand with all this work it would be her. There's one place she could be, so I ducked back in to grab a few of the most troublesome documents, stored them under my arm, and began my journey toward the library.

 

These halls were not as unfamiliar, but they were getting more crowded by the day. Although I knew their winding paths better, the odd feeling I got from everyone bowing and saluting as I walked by never left me. When all the undead girls shielded their mouths and started giggling it continued to embarrass me. Half of me wanted to know what the gossip was, the other half convinced me I knew as much as I needed to and I'd be of sounder mind if I ignored it.

 

Another thing which has changed is there were no shortage of men in the palace. They all wanted to vigorously shake my hand when we crossed paths. Thankfully their presence took some attention off of myself. In exchange I had to endure them as they enthusiastically introduced their new—or new and improved—ladyfriends to me. I still wasn't sure how to process their appreciation. It's hard to keep turning down the invitations to their weddings, but if I went to one, I'd have to go to them all. I'd never get any work done nor have a moment of peace, because if I went I'd likely run into—

 

     “Laven~Hello~” a mature singsong voice came from my blindside.

 

Speak of the devil and she will appear. This one moseyed onto the scene with the clacking of high heels. They carried with them a woman wearing a scandalous mockery of a nun's habit, complete with slits up the leg to the hip line. There was a lot of hip to constrain. It clung tightly to the skin as if it were painted on instead of worn. Her whole figure was hefty, but all curves. If that wasn't enough there's a cross shaped hole cut out at the cleavage. I could imagine it being there for no other purpose but to expose as much as her hefty bust as she could get away with. And believe me when I say those public decency laws have become incredibly lax lately.

 

She tussled her chin length, bowl cut, silver-white hair flirtatiously. Meanwhile, a metallic jingle rang out behind her as a succubi spaded tail encased in black linked chain flicked to and fro. Along with the curved horns on the top of head and the elven ears jutting out from the side, the fact she is not human was obvious. With eyes that were naturally squinted in their natural state, but glowed, faintly, with a purple luminescent hue.

 

     “Gertrude,” I said with a forced smile.

 

A newcomer to the castle and an emissary of the Monster Lord herself. Not personally appointed, but she did carry all the authentic seals of her Church. I've never encountered its clergy till this point, but Gertrude's eccentricities told me everything I needed to know about it. She is part of the monsterkind's answer to the Empire's state religion: The Church of the Almighty. They are not that active in the North, yet, or else I would have heard of it long ago: The Nuptian Church. Apparently only three decades or so old. It seemed to be a clumsy effort, stuck in the alpha testing stage. A mere parody of the original. Yet its members carried out its intended purpose with zealotry.

 

It's a lot more laissez faire compared to its rival. It appeared to be cobbled together post hoc to excuse the sexuality monsters exude during everyday life. When the Almighty lost its grip on a region, the void left by its absence was quickly filled by the Nuptian. These ladies, its clergy, take over affairs. Sermons were one thing, but were shallow excuses for social get-togethers at the local church. There they tried to play matchmaker between bachelors and bachelorettes. But the one thing they focused on more than anything is the institution of marriage. And Gertrude has been very VERY busy lately.

 

     “Out for an early morning stroll?” the dark priest inquired, innocently enough.

 

Her eyes were, however, predatory and seductive. Leering within that round face of hers. If I didn't put up a defense now I'd get swept up in her pace again.

 

     “If you want some more of the finished documents I left a lot of completed ones in the right hand pile,” I said trying to steer things back to something impersonal, professional.

 

That appeared to distract her for a moment, but she regained her composure quickly. Her smile inverted and her expression turned into one of chastisement.

 

     I let out a sigh and decided to be upfront, “I'm out looking for Shoshanah.”

 

 

Her face lit up like a New Year fireworks display.

 

One thing I've learned about this strange breed of monster, beyond their scandalous uniforms, was the shared passion they held. Every conversation inevitably steers into one domain: Talk of wedding bells. Flowing white dresses, rings, posies, the rice you throw about, all might as well be their crucifix. And when these topics came up they got sexually aroused. Visibly so.

 

     “Are you planning on having five separate ceremonies, or one big one?” Her voice shot out words like a machine gun. “Shoshanah is a lovely girl, a little dry, but I'm sure she'd look magnificent in all white. I had not penned you for starting there, but I'm not complaining. Few frills needed, impeccably punctual, by the books. I know deciding on the order is a big decision to make, but we can go all out and make it a whole day affair if you wish to do it all at once! Ahhh~ all those girls gathered together in one place, with brilliant ivory white billowing everywhere~ I can arrange everything. I can officiate the most wonderful day you and your girls will never forget!”

 

With lightning speed her pale and dainty little hands grabbed hold of me and refused to let go. They were beginning to sweat like crazy, puffs of steam began to waft out from her open mouth which was nearly salivating. Worst of all she was rubbing her knees together and I could hear the slicking noises as she was becoming incredibly aroused at the mere thought of it all.

 

This religion took it seriously, very seriously but that meant it took sex seriously, and as a sacred affair. The most sacrosanct. Swapping of bodily fluids was the communion, constrained by the notion that sex means pregnancy and pregnancy begets children and children means family and children grow old to have children of their own and the cycle continues. Therefore, sex became regarded as a miracle in itself. And what family would be complete without one all important institution? These girls appeared to have been handcrafted by the Monster Lord herself for one job and one job alone... And that put me in a peculiar spot.

 

I managed to rip my hands free, but still had to shake them dry and wipe them clean on my pant legs.

 

     I then pulled out a sheet of technical paper I had stuffed underneath my armpit and thrust it into the priest's face, “Business! Business, lady! Business! We need to exchange notes. I'm falling behind on my work.”

 

     She deflated like a balloon, “Oh, I see.”

 

Had I not seen that look before I would have assumed it genuine, but I could tell she was trying to slip one last blade between the plates in my armor of contempt.

 

     “Don't you have your own work to take care of? I can hardly leave my room without you stalking me,” I chastised the woman in return.

 

     “Oh, if you would only be less stubborn,” she pouted. “We really do need to sit down and discuss your Lavonian reforms in depth, after all. I have colleges the world over who have been electrified by its implications.”

 

     “Oh god,” I muttered, despairingly. “They named it and they named it after me?”

 

My big fat mouth had been what landed me in all this work to begin with. I'm having flashbacks now to that banquet. Princess Hyria had confided in me that she had so much crown land, and land confiscated from the Church, more than she knew what to do with. Double that number with all the land which had been freed from its curse in the former Shadelands, north of the Brightwall, now reduced to ruins. On a whim I made one fateful suggestion: Why not homestead it? Don't concern yourself with every square inch of it and dole it out. Decentralization. It seemed obvious to me. A revolutionary idea to an absolute monarch of a feudalistic system. Yet she appeared to have taken the idea and ran with it in a totally different direction...

 

     “Such a beautiful sight,” Gertrude sighed as her eyes focused on some imaginary scene a thousand yards away. “A little cottage all their own, the happy couple to eke out their own little corner of paradise, together.”

 

Get married to one—or more—of her subjects, the undead, and receive ten hectares of land. Sell it if country living is not your forte to buy a place in the city and start a venture. Some of the farm plots have gotten rather large this way, and cottage industries are popping up all over Mornurg. That brought a quick end to serfdom in Yaleria. It proved to be a deal-maker for anyone who thought the zombies were cute, but was too far out of their comfort zone to sleep with something that's cold until you rub together for a bit... And for any human woman who thought eternal life might be neat, but were worried about their complexion...

 

That's their business, as for me, now they'd pin it all on me. All those happy couples dogging me endlessly made a lot more sense now.

 

     “Well, give the Priestess my warmest regards,” the priestess cooed as she returned to reality. “I so would love to speak with her on ecclesiastical matters again soon. Such a fascinating woman and a delight to talk to about nearly anything. Oh~How you tease me so, my sister. I will break down that iron curtain around your heart one of these days. Mark my words!”

 

     “Yeah yeah,” I said as I tried capitalizing on the opening and brushed past her and speed walk away.

 

She'd be back, I had little doubt about that. Like a murder of crows taking roost, spying and squawking incessantly from a nearby tree. And there came the click clack of the heels again. I turned around to face my shadow and she nearly careened right into me. I turned my eyes downward at the woman as she looked back up at me with puppy dog eyes.

 

     “A little privacy, maybe?” my voice came out a bit more raised than I intended.

 

She smiled in return, “I go with but the grace of God.”

 

     “You are not omniscient, you are a damn voyeur!”

 

     “But I wanna see her with that disheveled look on her face~” She pouted like a child, it was rather unsightly to see on a grown woman.

 

     “I am not—I'm—This is strictly business,” I said waving the papers in her face again.

 

     “Is—That—So?” she said ominously.

 

That almost put me on my back foot, the tone in her voice was cryptic. I watched as her eyes let out another pulse of their eerie light for a moment. She curled her lips back and bore her teeth, complete with devil's fangs, as she mused about something.

 

     “If you want to see that kind of face, go find your own guy and have him hold a mirror for you!”

 

     “I'm trying~” she said, seductively.

 

     “Try somewhere else,” I replied and turned my back on her again.

 

     “Laven~Please~You only have to marry one of them for now!”

 

She threw herself onto the ground and wrapped her dainty and pale hands around my ankle.

 

     “I'm dying here. Have mercy, you tease!” her voice grew desperate and deranged. “I can pull some favors, the Church can pay for everything! It can be a rehearsal. Just a rehearsal!”

 

She grabbed hold and didn't let go with the professionalism of a defensive linebacker. I could lurch away at about three or four centimeters per second. We were starting to attract the attention of passerbys now. She started crying too, mascara streaking down her otherwise pretty face, so that added a layer of condemnation to stares from the crowd. Try as a might, I could not kick her loose.

 

     “What did I tell you last time!?”

 

     “It can be a pleasant surprise for them! Laven—please!”

 

I had but one secret weapon to use, but it appeared its effectiveness was growing weaker: My family. I assumed they existed, they had to. There's a hole in my heart shaped as such. They are out there somewhere, out in space, or perhaps in time too...

 

     “And the time before that!” I repeated myself, trying to kick her loose a second time.

 

The anti-elope angle is all I had, a condition that's not going to be met anytime soon. Despite that, this exact comedy played out around every other time we met. It's becoming rather bothersome. Being forced to think about such a depressing thing soured my mood enough to give one good yank of my foot. Third time proved to be the charm and was enough to finally free myself from Gertrude's grasp. I fled the scene before she could get back off the floor and pursue.

 

By the time I took a few extra detours for good measure, I had exhausted myself both physically and mentally. At least I made it to the library at last though. My saving grace is that this place is always quiet and serene. Whatever the reason, this place was but one of few locations you could be safe from random encounters.

 

Not nearly as long as a run as all those miles that lay before me and my goals, but I do know I can't concern myself about something lime marriage—no, wait, scratch that. I am not thinking about settling down like that at all in the first place! Dammit. Now she's gone and muddled my thoughts—again. I got other more pressing issues at hand.

 

I took a deep breath and basked in the calm and clean air of the library. That old book smell was everywhere. You might expect a lot of walking corpses to smell rather old too, but perfume appeared to be in perpetual fashion. This area of the palace had a more natural vibe to it. Spells of gentle repose kept the books from deteriorating, so you never did get that old book smell either. There were no shortage of ancient tomes either. Many of them had languages on their spine dating back centuries. Thousands of years if you count the ones being unearthed from the former Shadelands and deposited here.

 

While the palace itself is a blend of stone, silk and marble, the library here was a forest of mahogany shelves. Old dusty rugs lined the floors as opposed to the opulent red carpets outside. Lining the walls, where there were yet books to cover them, various oil paintings depicting people of no small importance decorated the walls. As I walked its halls I began to spy openings along the many shelves. That told me I've gotten closer to my quarry. Further into the forest lay a small clearing betwixt the shelves. There lay a solitary individual resting between and on piles of books.

 

Her long locks of raven hair cascaded over the towers of books like waterfalls. Meanwhile, her chest puffed up and back down in a gentle rhythm. There Susan was, fast asleep, with moonlight pouring in through the skylight. Her bronzed skin glistened and in her jet-black paws shimmered from its silky gloss. Although she continued to sleep, she held in her grasp a book, the pages of which danced to and fro with every slumbering breath.

 

I hesitated in daring to wake her at all. She appeared too blissful and content. Yet I could quite clearly see her nose tickle every so often and her body shiver from the cold. It's never quite day, but it is still not summer yet, so it's rather cold outside. What with her wearing her usual priestess getup, including the harem pants and skintight black top which left her abdomen, arms and parts of her legs exposed, the cold would not be kept at bay. Then there's the whole sleeping on the floor bit, and that is what compelled me to act.

 

Silently I approached, so I would not wake her. Carefully I crouched down and wrapped my arm around the back of her knees while grabbing hold of her by the shoulder. She wasn't that much shorter than I was, so I had braced myself to have a harder time of it. I managed to hoist her up with no troubles at all, much to my surprise. My muscles must have healed faster than I dared give them credit for.

 

I set off to find her a softer bed to lay her down, the thought of anyone, especially one of the dark priests, seeing me carry Susan around like this came to me too late. Yet I didn't make it far. A murmur escaped her lips and soon after I watched her long eyelashes flutter as she slowly opened her eyes.

 

     “You shouldn't be sleeping on the—” floor, I was about to say, but got cut short as her eyes shot wide open like a wild animal.

 

Susan began to thrash about. One soft palm of her paw pushing into my face as she kicked her feet in protest.

 

     “Susan wait!” I tried a call for reason, but to no avail.

 

A single unexpected shove was enough to throw me off my center of gravity. Holding up all this dead weight, which was now thrashing about, proved too much for me to handle. I took one misstep backward and the second found nowhere solid to go. My feet kicked out from under me, I tumbled backward taking Susan with me. She let out a short lived shriek of surprise. Luckily I had the wherewithal to tuck my chin in so I didn't hit my head first. My soft cargo came tumbling down on top of me the next. When I tried looking up I got a bushel of black fur face. She was sitting on my chest, tail in my face. Adding insult to injury, the papers I had been carrying rained down on top of us both.

 

     “What the hell was that for?” I groaned.

 

Except I didn't get a response. She had her weight on my chest, but was hunched over. With that full head of hair fluttered about, I couldn't see past it as if it were a veil. Yet I could swear I heard someone...sniffing?

 

     “Susan?” I called out louder than before.

 

     “Eek!” came her startled response.

 

Her back went rigid as a flag pole while scurrying off of me immediately. Scooting backwards on all fours she turned to face me at last, but stopped short when her back slammed into the bookshelves on the opposite side of the small clearing among the many shelves of books. It rattled back and forth from the impact, but she didn't have the force, thankfully enough, to knock it, or any of its content, off and rain down upon us both.

 

I propped myself up into a seated position where we glared at one another for a moment. Our feet were mingled together, so we were not at all distant from each other at all. I could also feel the heat off her breath as she panted heavily. If she didn't reign herself in it looked as if she might start hyperventilating.

 

A stray piece of paper slipped down from on top of my head onto my chest, so I used that to try steering the topic back to normalcy.

 

     “I–I came–”

 

     “You what!?” Susan shrieked, with cross eyes.

 

     “–To ask for help?” I finished.

 

She continued to glare at me for another moment, but slowly a hint of red spread across her cheeks from the jawline up to her eyes.

 

     “Of–of course! How ostentatious of me,” Susan said, choking back what I assumed was a nervous laugh.

 

With paw outstretched, she reached out to receive the paper I had in my hand. There's no point in handing over a random page that could be from the middle of the stack, and thus would give no proper context, but I got caught up in the flow and leaned over to oblige. Our hands touched ever so briefly, but she acted as if I had hit her with a thousand volt static shock. The piece of paper went flying up into the air, only to flutter back down on top of her head, nestled snugly between her canine ears.

 

While she plucked it from the top of her head and began to read through it I let my eyes wander to the assortment of books she had been working through. A number of them were quite ancient and in a language I could not ever hope to read, but enough of them were recent enough to at least parse something out of. To my surprise they were all rather dry, or at worst weird. Very weird. Old ledgers detailing accounting and receipts, large centuries old Domesday-style paperweights. I fished one out from a half collapse pile which read along the spine: A Treatise on the Caberlamb River Catfish. A quick flip-through showed a series of diagrams, some maps detailing migratory routes, the life cycle and even a well documented vivisection. It was not a very cute looking fish, the exact opposite. The details made me feel a bit ill to look at.

 

I didn't get much time with it before Susan rather rudely tore it from my hands and hastily shoved it to the side. That left me a little lost for words. Her behavior was getting rather suspicious.

 

     “What?” I inquired. “It's just a little marine biology. Not what I would call light reading, that thing isn't cute at all, but you don't have to freak out like that.”

 

     “I wasn't reading it for–“ she stopped mid sentence, cleared her throat and then clumsily tried to redirect the conversation again. “Your problem here is due to these proper nouns throughout. They speak of a tributary system far along the North Yalerian border mountains. Dunsweld, Gretdalt and Hruntal, they all feed the Palldius River. A region with rich black soil, meaning the land there is suitably fertile–”

 

She coughed and cleared her throat. For no particular reason at all.

 

     “Ahem, there exists a considerable risk during the spring melting period, however, due to soil erosion from the foothills causing said soil from becoming quite wet–”

 

And there is the cough again. Her breathing has become quite heavy and hoarse.

 

     “S-soden soil aside!” her voice suddenly raised in a squeaky pitch.

 

I leaned forward and slipped my hand underneath her forehead bangs and confirmed what I feared. She's burning up. Probably exhaustion from overwork. Add onto the cold sweat she broke out into–Oh, now she's gone rigid.

 

     “Tenseness in the muscles, stress and or anxiety,” I diagnosed. “Have you been sleeping Susan? At all?”

 

From brown to beat red in an instant. I had leaned in get a better look at her eyes, which were quite red, and not from the natural color of her iris, but the whites ridden with swollen, crisscrossing blood vessels. Not that I could get a good look, because her foot pad slammed into the side of my face. Susan pushed me away and started flailing wildly.

 

     “Whoa, careful with the claws!” I screamed while I grabbed hold of legs.

 

After I managed to get a hold of both her ankles we stopped and had a rather awkward moment. I had a firm grip of her legs, which were now resting on my shoulders, which left her spread eagle sitting on the ground in front of me. Her pants had a cut to them that left her underwear completely exposed. Nothing I had not become accustomed to, but the way her pelvis was positioned, along with her legs–

 

     “Nooo!” She shrieked

 

Susan drew her legs back with all her strength. I had not prepared myself and came tumbling along. My head got caught in a vice lock between her thighs as my face planted right into her groin. Two claws grabbed hold of the back of my head and grabbed onto my locks of hair.

 

     “Get away, you scoundrel!” she yelled.

 

Her actions and her words were not matching up at all. Especially since the tone in her voice had become less shrill and more breathy. Meanwhile, I had difficulties breathing. I could replicate this feeling by trying to breath through a wet rag. Smothering my mouth and nose was her pair of black silken underwear, which upon closer exception had become halfway to sheer due to how wet it had become–and that wasn't because of me.

 

Every time I tried to speak it served to stimulate the sensitive womanhood of Susan  more so than before. Her voice drifted from curses and harsh protests to simpering and erotic moans. I could feel her claws grip onto my scalp tighter, almost to the point of hurting. She's not supposed to be that strong, yet I could not pull away. The rocking motion back and forth as I tried to escape to get a breath of air instead of a face full whiff of pheromones exasperated the situation.

 

I tried to grab a hold of something with my hands, yet her whole body was slick from sweat and my fingers grazed off every curve of skin I could reach. The best I could manage was to try leveraging my head away by grabbing onto her thighs. Yet while I could pull away far enough to not be prone on the floor, her legs were wrapped secure around my head. While she was no doubt now laying on the floor, I could not get off my knees. Until I could feel her whole body tense up tighter than before. Her hips quivered and my whole face got drenched.

 

At last enough of her strength had faded that I could pull myself back to fall over backward onto my ass. I was once again sitting across from Susan, but her face had melted completely. White puffs of steam escape her lips as she panted with her jaw slackened. Her eyes were unfocused and looking off to the side. Out of breath myself, I fell the rest of the way over until I was laying on my back. There, up toward the ceiling, I spied the skylight. Through the glass I could see the perpetual night sky. Two full moons, brilliant red and blue were clear to see without a cloud in the sky.

 

Is that so?

 

Gertrude's cryptic words replayed themselves in my head. Not just a full moon, but two full moons. My mind went through the mental calculus of all those variables and a stray thought occurred to me, perhaps a bit too late. Isn't that a time when the wild animals go a little more wild? No, that's mere superstition... In a world where superstition is real.

 

I craned my neck to look over my chest and spied Susan had rolled over onto all fours, where she was glaring at me. By the time I managed to prop myself onto my shoulders she leaped forward and pounced on top of me. Her claws grabbed hold of my shoulders and pushed me back down onto floor. Her knees locked into position against my hips. If it were not for her tail comically swishing back and forth behind her and break neck speeds my caveman brain may have sent me into a total panic. It also managed to snuff out the candlelight.

 

     “Laven~” came my name from her sultry lips, which she licked hungrily.

 

A curious illumination of blue and red reflected off her long black hair. Long enough to cover her back like a cloak, long enough to flow down and coil on my chest and tickle my nose. A clang rang out next to my ear, the golden sun tiara which always sits on her head had fallen off. It rolled away out of reach. Once she was satisfied that I would not, or could not, squirm away, the Anubis let go of my shoulders and righted herself on my chest. Her claws reached underneath the fabric of her top and pulled it off over her head and threw it aside. A few sweet flecks of sweat went along with it as her hair danced wildly in response.

 

Had I the presence of mind to run before, it's long gone now. Tanned skin under the moonlight. Two pert mounds jiggling freely in the stale library air, crowned by two inviting pink nipples contrasting with the brown flesh. She was watching where my eyes traveled and she smiled confidently. A confidence she'd need, because next she untied the underwear from her hips. She held it by one string above me and then let to drop down on the carpet next to my head. It's made a sound on impact, it's heavier than a piece of fabric that small has any right to be. At least of it were dry, which it is not.

 

Perhaps because she was impatient, or maybe because it would be awkward the way she sat, the blue harem pants wrapped around her legs had magically vanished without a trace. She could have done that all along, with everything else, but she chose to put on that show. Whatever her reasons, the Anubis now straddled me completely naked. Now she busied herself extending the same favor toward me.

 

Her paw deftly unbuckled my belt and tore it from my jean loops. Next she slipped her claws underneath my shirt and slowly moved them over my chest, carrying the fabric along with it. The further she got, the further she leaned. Once at my collar bone she grabbed hold and pulled it over my head. A brief flash of white clouded my vision and when I could see again her face was right next to mine. We shared breaths and the temperature seemed to rise another degree. My shirt fluttered away on the wind as she had thrown it over her shoulder.

 

Neither of us spoke a word. I don't think any word needed to be said. She leaned closer in still, till her nose rubbed delicately against my own. She turned her face over to brush her cheek against my stubble. Meanwhile, her double-Ds pressed up against my chest. Susan began breathing heavily from her nose as she hooked it under my jaw and huffed deeply from the skin of my neck. Once satisfied, she pulled back and out faces were mere milometers apart once more. We intoxicated one another with the view for but a moment, and then she lunged forward and ran her tongue along my face.

 

That threw me off. The mood suddenly shifted.

 

I could hear her giggle with delight after she collapsed down on top of me. It tickled, but my protests for her to stop were in vain. She would not relent. Susan had completely lost it. I pondered for a moment if she had lost all her marbles and regressed to some more primal state, closer to that of a canine to which she shared some physical attributes of. When I tried to get a good grip to push her away as it was becoming too much, that's when she escalated the situation to its next level.

 

When my pants, socks and boots flew off, I do not, how they flew off on their own, I'm sure was an abuse of her kinetic magic. She left the underwear for herself, however. By now, long ago really, my dick had reached full mast. My boxer briefs could barely restrain it. Between the cotton on one end and the soft flesh of her butt on the other, it would not suffer being kept out of the picture for much longer. I watched as a long string unfurled and went flying off into the air. That left Susan with nothing more to do but pull it off from the side. A simple piece of unknit fabric floated through the air before it settled back down on the floor nearby.

 

     “Hey, I don't have many of those left,” I protested.

 

My objections were ignored. She reached back, grabbed hold of cock in her paws and guided it into position. She fit it snugly between her smooth and silky butt-cheeks, where it had been desperately prodding before. With it being locked away like that, she could grind her hips, flex her thighs and clench her butt all she wanted and my dick could do nothing but endure the ride. With a free paw she could reach back, cup my balls, and juggle them in the palm of her hand. While that dance played out, her tail brushed past the tip over and over again. The foreplay had gone on for long I didn't need much stimulation before I'd be pushed over the edge. Her game didn't take long before my teeth grit and I let loose my first volley.

 

Not a drop was to be wasted. Nowhere for it to go. With her tail in the way, with her hand reached back and ready to catch, the rest painted her back with splotches of white. Susan then brought her hand back to her face where she licked her fur clean. Savoring every drop. With each drop of semen having what appeared to be a chemical reaction on her tongue. Her red eyes turned from a dull red to a luminescent crimson. A magic glow if I had ever seen one before. And I do believe I have.

 

Unsatisfied with the vector of its delivery, she raised hers hips and unlocked her legs from my hips. She placed herself in a squatting position over my lower half. With her paws bracing against my chest she caught the tip of my penis in her folds and playfully gyrated. I had not lost one bit of hardness from before, so it was standing at full attention. Once satisfied it had recovered fully, Susan dropped her hips down slowly, excruciatingly slowly, until each inch had reached all the way inside.

 

That reunion was enough to cause Susan to shiver with a minor orgasm. Had I not ejaculated a moment ago the tight squeeze from within would have been enough to join her. She's not going to be satisfied with only that minor release. There's obviously no need to rest, because she began to push with her legs and drop back down again, slowly at first, and progressively faster. Rather than tiring, the rapid grinding of our nethers spurred her further onward. My own body became restless. All her weight repeatedly crashed into my lower half, so I reached out with my hands to the tantalizing target bouncing in front of my eyes. Starting from the twin tattoos on her chest, I slinked my fingers across the sweaty, taut and smooth abdomen up to cup her breasts. More than I could grab, but I'm feeling particularity greedy.

 

One sit-up rep was all it took to occupy my hunger as well. Unsatisfied with just embracing them with my touch, I had to taste as well. I caught one nipple within my lips, bit down lightly with my teeth and teased the pink flesh with my tongue. I mashed both breasts together so I could have both meet in the middle. Which she had sufficient size to accomplish. That's too much for her to handle and so she threw her head back and moaned with delight. I met her chorus of delightful moans with my ugly grunts. Not a duet which you could call moving, but it did move us.

 

Susan kept moving faster and faster, up until I took over and began rocking my own hips. Frightened of losing her balance, her fingers sought out mine. I relinquished my hold on her breasts and we locked our fingers together. Her claws scratched the skin on the back of my hand, but I didn't care, the soft cushy flesh on her palms and the warm fuzzy feeling from the fur more than made up for it. Now secure, three final full lengths pumps of my full length were the last needed to bring me to my second orgasm. This time every drop deposited directly into the womb.

 

Her eyes glowed an increasingly more radiant shade of red and the white 'exclamation' tattoos on her stomach began to shimmer and come to life as well. By now were seated into the lotus position. Her breathing had become ragged, exhausted. My body had endured more than this, however, and wasn't ready to call it quits yet. Now was the time I leaned forward and brought my weight to bear on her. A few pieces of scattered paper flew away from the sight of impact, but I didn't care about that now. Nature demanded to take its course.

 

I had one of her legs over my shoulder while the other laid limp on the floor. My member had slipped loose, allowing some of my seed to spill on the no doubt priceless ancient carpet. I had one hand on her smooth thigh while her furry calf slung over my shoulder, the other couldn't keep to itself as it massaged the abdomen above her womb, up her chest and up to her breasts. When it worked its way up to her face, she could not help but bite down on it and run her tongue over and between my fingers. With her own hands, she reached out and tugged at my semi-flaccid cock. It did not shy away from a third invitation and quickly the blood returned, ready for another tour of duty.

 

My body was well rested from being acted upon before, so I had the stamina left to be the actor. Balancing on the tips of my toes I pushed forward and Susan kept a grip on the shaft to guide it. Looser the third time around, not nearly as tense as before, but compensated for the welcome groin melting warmth. Mingled with our renewed vulgar grunting was the sloshing of fluids from where we connected. What's more interesting is that cute disheveled look on her face, which is otherwise together all the time.

 

Susan had head resting against her bicep, her arm grabbing hold of a nearby bookcase. Meanwhile, her other hand pressed up against my stomach, her fingers spread between where my penis meets with her vagina. Once I started pounding my way the whole length up, she couldn't take my paw off my abs, or the scars on my chest. She gnawed gently on my fingers while gazing seductively up at me with those eyes of hers. I could not resist leaning further over until her knee was up against the side of her head. The priestess was more than flexible enough for that, even if she's stoic and wouldn't bend for any other reason. I gave her something else to chew on as out lips met and our tongues mingled and danced between each other's mouths.

 

Neither of us could handle it from both ends, so I could quickly feel the tingle from my hips and as my balls scrunched together to muster every last bit I had left to offer. I had nearly fallen on top of her at this point. Either the angle I'm moving in and out with is reaching her in all the right places, or she's feeling too much pleasure to complain about her awkward position. I wagered the prior, because I could feel the rough spot which had her nearly howling at this point.

 

One, two, three more thrusts I offered with the last of my strength then we froze in place as her back bent like a bow. I could not pull out if I tried, she squeezed down the tightest so far. When she relaxed her grip on me enough that's when I could coax the last few out with a couple rocks of my hips. Then–and only then–was I finally spent. I roller over onto the floor, onto my back, with the skylight and the sight of the heavens above. Susan rolled over and lay her head against my chest and locked her arms around me. I groggily slugged my arm around her back. There greeted me the wondrous feeling of her long silky raven hair, which covered me like a blanket while her soft skin pressed down gently on my chest.

 

Her whole body radiated with magic now, and it stayed that way for a few minutes as she absorbed it all. As the last of the excess blood finally retreated from my penis to the point it plopped out from her pussy on its own, there wasn't much left to stain the carpet any further. Our sweat mixed together took up the slack for that though. At least our sharing of body heat kept the spring night air at bay.

 

I could gauge the time flowing by with nothing but our breaths and the moons moving across the sky above. It would be some time before either of us could muster a word to share with the other.

 

     “Are you yourself yet?” I asked, cautiously.

 

I looked down my chest to see Susan had probably been looking up at me for quite some time. When our eyes met though, she quickly diverted them away.

 

Yeah, that answers my question, I thought to myself. Susan wasn't willing to respond though.

 

     “What was that all about?”

 

She rolled off my chest, but kept close and snuggled up against my side. With a claw raised up toward the skylight, she pointed toward the twin moons.

 

     “I have encountered difficulties in maintaining adequate mana,” she responded, in a characteristically clinical manner.

 

     “In English, please?”

 

     She sighed, “Every day I offer up my prayers to the morning sun. Without a morning sun, I cannot receive the blessings of the gods.”

 

Because Yaleria is in perpetual night. Now that I think about it, it's rather obvious the sun is a source of her power. It's all over the iconography she wears.

 

     “And that explains the glowing every time I–"

 

     “M-mana comes in many forms!” she blustered with embarrassment.

 

     "So why did you hide yourself away in here?"

 

     "I–" she stuttered, stopping to choose her words more carefully. "Did not want you to see–"

 

     "–See what?

 

     "Without adequate mana, my capacity to regulate my own behavior became less than desirable. Certain...instincts become far more powerful than I can control."

 

     "...And you didn't want me to think–"

 

     "N–no! I am not inferring at all that I–"

 

     “Well,” I replied, reaching out across the floor with my free arm. “Glad to be of service then.”

 

My fingers found her gold sun tiara and I quickly plopped it back down where it belonged. Her lupine ears twitched erratically atop her head in response and she quickly drew her hands back to cover them. Her eyes were wide with shock at first, but slowly closed shut with a smile spreading across her face as they did. If my assumptions were correct, she didn't want to pounce on me like she did. She has her stubborn pride to the bitter end it seems. Although that did leave me with some questions. Which side of her was for real and which was the act?... No, the answer that is easy. All of them at once. It would explain her neuroticism.

 

     “–After all, you are my personal sun to hold,” I heard her whisper softly.

 

I wasn't sure if I heard that right, so I had to ask, “Is that so?”

 

From shocked, to mellow, to mortified again. Sixty to zero, to sixty again within ten seconds. Susan's face went red again and buried itself in my chest to hide her shame. Only to realize where she was burying her face. With that she sat up straight and crawled away. She began to gather her things, and then all the papers strewn about the floor.

 

     “Y-you s-said you had work to do? R-right? Well, we-we've fooled around long enough!”

 

I had never seen a girl dress that quickly before. By the time I managed to sit up she was almost ready to run out the door.

 

     “My lord, please, if you would be more expedient in making yourself presentable!”

 

I poked my finger at a few fresh scratches from her claws on my chest. When I turned my eyes back, her own were running back up and down my body. After being caught doing so, she made for a hasty retreat. But when I said she was almost ready.

 

     “Slow down there,” I said while hoisting up her still wet underwear.

 

Another deeper shade of red spread got painted across her face. She quickly reached, snagged it from the grasp and nearly tripped over a stack of books on her way out. It's then I finally realized my underwear was still a lump of fabric on the floor.

 

     “Hey!” I called out. “Come back here and fix this? Do you think this is the kind of place to walk around commando!?”

 

Her voice came echoing back, “Does thou profess you have not exhausted yourself already?”

 

     “That's not the point! And look at the mess!” I said while slipping back into my shirt.

 

     “Later!” the voice came replied, but closer than before. “Allow the maids to concern themselves with such trifles. It fulfills their purpose.”

 

She had her underwear back on now as she leaned around the corner. A mildly mischievous look on her face for once.

 

     “Come now, let us resume back at your room. There is greater comfort to be had. I shall prepare tea for the long night ahead.”

 

Now it was time for me to blush a little.

 

     “A-again?”

 

     “You clearly require more tutelage if you have sought me out for such minor quandaries,” Susan said as she fluttered the stack of papers I had brought in her claws.

 

     “Oh, right. Ahaha~” I laughed nervously.

 

She flashed a smile before vanishing back into the forest of mahogany shelves.

 

     “Hey, wait! I'm serious, fix these right now!” I shouted as I zipped up my jeans and buckled up my belt.

 

I heard a bout of laughter. Laughter! In my rush I nearly tripped over myself while struggling to pull my socks up; and again while fiddling with the clasps on my boots. When I finally gave pursuit I could not remove this damn smile from my face.