Welldark

 

Esther stood in the kitchen.

This was noteworthy, solely because this was the first time she cooked for me. Over the course of the past two weeks, it had always been me who prepared our shared, home meals. Usually, I made breakfast, lunch we bought at the cafeteria and dinner we each made for ourselves by throwing some cold things together, be it bread or cereal. Rarely, there was an exception. Either because she had been angry with me, because our schedules didn’t line up or because I had slept in.

Today had started regularly, with me cooking us a nice bacon and egg breakfast. She had left for her class, I played video games. The irregularity started with Esther coming back two hours later than the scheduled end of her Anomalia Management class. I could only assume that she and Arlethia had spent that extra time together, given that they knocked on my door together. The moment Esther and I had started speaking, my redheaded friend had immediately retreated with several prolonged, mischievous giggles.

Then Esther had told me she wanted to cook lunch for us.

Perplexed as I was by this chain of events, I did highly appreciate it. From my position on the table, the view of the lady of my desires was splendid. She had changed out of her school uniform and into a casual outfit. Today, that was a combination of a deep-purple t-shirt and black yoga pants. Esther, given her ascended beauty, could have worn just about anything and looked good in it. However, the fact that both shirt and pants were clinging to the desirable areas made me salivate long before I could smell what she was cooking.

Most of the time, I got to admire her round ass. The juicy display did its best to convert me into a pure ass-man. She shifted her weight around and the firm double spheres took on another attractive form. She bent forwards to grab something from a cupboard and the emphasized roundness made pants tight.

Whenever I was at the border of conversion, she would turn her torso just enough that I could see her sizable chest jiggle. That instantly pulled me back into my equal appreciation of the female form as a whole. As a keen observer, I could immediately discern that the jiggle was stronger and her breasts dropped slightly further than usual. She was not wearing a bra. 

I knew for a fact that she always wore one under her uniform and I highly doubted she would go to work later without one. This meant that this was purely for my viewing pleasure. Taking a guess, I would have said that Arlethia was to thank for that bright idea. I made a promise to myself to give the succubus something nice, when the opportunity arose.

The eye candy aside, that Esther was even willing to be advised on such things was odd. Something must have happened, for the two of them to get close enough that the raven-haired lady would take such hints. ‘Being a fellow future Queen might help?’ I guessed as my mind recollected the ordinary events of the past week.

Of the classes I had attended so far, most of them had managed to grab my interest to some degree. 

Even through the haze of negativity that had dominated so much of Monday, I could certainly say that I was deeply intrigued by alchemy. The Aesthetic Arts class was one I was less interested in, but the description and teacher seemed intriguing enough. Magic training was necessary, but also engaging. Expanding what I could do with gravity magic was a reward in and of itself.

Tuesday had been alright. The Astral Cultivation class was more interesting than I had anticipated. I knew of the mysticism (or realism, depending on perspective) surrounding it and had engaged in meditations myself before. The room it was set in was fascinating, however, and I got the feeling that I could perhaps discover more than the vastness I already knew. Interdimensional Conduct was the only class every week I was already too bored to think about. 

Unless something radically changed about the teacher or what he had to educate us in, that class was just going to be a snoozefest. Everything said could be boiled down to ‘Don’t say anything before you know you are allowed to say it’ and ‘When in Rome, do as the Romans do.’ That this was a mandatory class, to be taken for three semesters in total, did not help my aversion to it.

At least the Battlefield Training class that followed immediately after looked to be more interesting. It differentiated itself from any specific training and the Duelling class by being about actual battlefields. Welldark had an extensive complex of halls with modifiable terrain. Through magic and machinery, a large number of different situations could be created.

In those artificial landscapes, we were given objectives and a few rules and then just left to go at each other. The first time had been great fun, especially since I was, to put it frankly, a vastly superior combatant compared to my peers. Esther was the only exception and we had been assigned different objectives in the exercise, leading to me dominating my side of the field. The teacher had already let us know that he would create teams in the spirit of balancing things down the line. I didn’t mind. Protecting a weaker classmate was a potential opportunity for flirting.

Moving onto Wednesday, I first had Engineering class. Generally, the impression I had of that was similar to alchemy, albeit not quite as applicable to steamy fun. Engineering built understanding that could be used to create lewd contraptions and creative bondage frames. That was nice but compared unfavourably with the ability to remain hard for 20 rounds. Mechanical knowledge was good to have in general life, as compensation. Fixing one’s own belongings was a good skill to have and if I ever went to a world that had a magic-shunning guardian, knowing what was purely physically possible would help. My Artefact ability also benefited from me thinking more about useful, rather than attractive, forms.

My Cooking lectures were going to pay dividends in time. While the class itself was nothing to write home about, basically boiling down to ‘cook this, I will taste test and comment on it during and after the process’, Esther was all the motivation I needed. The lady of my desires’ mood depended heavily on her state of nourishment. Love goes through the stomach, it was said, and that was definitely true for a woman who got incredibly irate when hungry.

Lastly on Wednesday was Unarmed Combat. The male troll-doll of a teacher seemed like he would keep things very interesting and if he didn’t, there was always Karona. 

Although, with how things were currently looking, I had to consider that our relationship wouldn’t last. Not because I expected Esther to force me to end it, but because I didn’t quite trust that Karona would tone down the affronts. I could be wrong about that impression, of course, but the grey-skinned succubus struck me as someone who was used to getting what they wanted.

Next week on Thursday, I would return to Musical Class. If nothing else, it already seemed to be great stress relief. I had not known I would need that when I took the class, but this whole ‘starting a relationship’ business was proving to be more challenging than I had thought. Weapon Training, compared to Unarmed Combat, had been quite boring. If taken outside of the relative, it was still two hours of workout and that was acceptable.

On Friday, Interdimensional Etiquette was a whole lot more interesting than Interdimensional Conduct. I mostly chalked that down to specificity. Conduct had such a broad scope of different scenarios it needed to get through that it generalized a whole slew of interactions into rules that could be surmised as ‘common sense’. Etiquette gave specific examples and answered somewhat intriguing questions.

The one the teacher had presented to us in the first lecture had been: is it courteous to offer a vampire your blood. The answer to that was incredibly multi-facetted, depended on the kind of vampire, and what court they belonged to. A vampire court was its own beast as well, one I still had to wrap my head around. Apparently, they were like human clans, dynasties and interest groups, all rolled into one, but also not really any of that.

Sexual Skills spoke for itself in being able to sustain my interest. The bombshell of a teacher and her approach on the subject helped a lot. After that, I had a lot of free time and, finally, as the last class of the week, Dimensional Heroes. Which, as it had turned out so far, was nice. We hadn’t talked about anyone yet. The lecture was going to present to us one person each week and that initial class had been about establishing the list, the order and why they were on it. I was especially looking forward to the lecture about King Arthur.

So far, I really liked my schedule. It wasn’t busy and there was only one class I didn’t look forward to spending two hours in each week. Only my shifts at Café Served may yet turn out to make my weeks depressing. I would get an idea of that this evening, as Esther and I were scheduled to have our first shift from 4 PM to midnight.

My thoughts on this concluded at the same moment as Esther turned, hiding her delicious bottom from my view. Like any established gentleman, I had stared at it the entire time. One could not say about me that I wasn’t paying attention to my lady. One could, however, leverage that I ought to pay more attention to other parts of her.

Not to my disadvantage in this case, as she picked up two plates and carried them over. On them I found, orderly stacked, burgers. The kind where the patty made up a third of the entire thing, followed by the combination of sauce, lettuce, tomato and whatever else and the buns. Through smart application of cheese, the sauces didn’t turn the bread into a soggy mess, giving me something nice and firm to grab.

‘So that’s why they call them buns,’ I thought, waiting until Esther sat down as well to begin eating. “Thanks,” I took the moment to say the common courtesy, before digging in. After nodding, Esther followed suit.

The mildly toasted bread crunched softly. Even the tomatoes and the lettuce had been heated up, so they didn’t create a displeasing cold difference to the heat of the juicy patty. We ate in silence, as I had learned to wait for conversation until she was sated. Often, I tried to strike a conversation halfway through, but the rich taste had me enthralled.

Only after I had finished up and let out a proud burp, did I say, “That was fantastic,” and leaned back in my chair. Esther already reached over to take my plate and when she stacked it on top of hers, I realized what was going on and quickly stood up. “No, no, you cooked - I’ll clean up,” I declared, even if the full stomach made moving a bit of a slog.

“Good Karitas, it is…” she started, but I was already grabbing the plates.

“I insist,” I answered and moved the topic back to where I actually wanted to go. “Do you cook often? That was really good, especially the seasoning. I like it with a bit more salt, but that was fantastic.” I hoped the last part came across the way I meant it and not as some veiled criticism.

 “I have a habit of taking care of myself,” Esther answered, turning around so she could still look at me while I walked into the kitchen. “I prefer mass prepared dishes. However, if the economic situation makes it more advantageous to prepare my own meal, I will do so. I want it to taste good as well.” She paused for a moment. “The money saved by cooking is less than I value my time for. I don’t plan to cook often.”

“A shame,” I admitted as I loaded the plates into the dishwasher. “It was really good, but I repeat myself. Water?” Whether I thought it could use additional salt or not, the burger still made my body ask for some additional fluid. A simple nod and I brought an extra glass of tap water back to the table with me. “I think time spent cooking together is quality time. Maybe we can save money and have fun in the future? Would that be an acceptable use of your time?”

She considered, then nodded, “If the schedule allows, I will consider cooking lunch more often.” Esther’s soft voice and acceptance of the way I framed those questions made me smile. If we had already been at that point, this would have been where I leaned down and gave her a light kiss. It felt like I read the same thought from her amber eyes, but then she took the glass and the moment passed.

“So,” I said the word without having actually thought of a follow-up yet, just to break the silence. “How… was the class?” I picked the first topic that came to mind, luckily it was something I had wondered about anyway. When leaving things to spontaneous thoughts, there was always the risk of saying something incoherent. Like asking Esther where she left her glasses, just because I had dreamt of her wearing some for the sexy teacher look.

“Enlightening,” she answered with high praise. “It advised me on direly needed introspection… the deliberated topic was jealousy.”

“Alright…?” I sounded a bit hesitant there. Frankly, I wasn’t sure what the correct response was. This felt awfully important all of a sudden.

Esther took a sip of her water, placed the glass on the table and looked at her hands. They moved in her lap, as if she was trying to undo a complicated knot. Then she looked up, our eyes met and she gazed at me unblinkingly for several seconds. Now for a fact, I knew that this was something important.

“Karitas I…” at least she was struggling with formulating her thoughts as much as I was struggling with the correct response to the tone shift. “…I find how Karona acts around you disrespectful. Your responses to her conduct irritate me as well, but I feel that to be a discrepancy on my part.” She took a slow, deep breath, her eyes still focused on me. “I will not ask that you take any consequent action.” That was already a big relief, since it showed that she was looking at this like a sane person and not some emotionally driven harpy. “I require to hear something from you, however. Karitas, would you invite her into a relationship, even if I disapproved of it?”

The question had quite reaching consequences. Basically, if I said no, I allowed her to have a hand in all of my future sexual relations and Anomalia members. In a metaphorical sense, my dick was screaming no to that. The savage side that wanted to fuck whoever I desired at the time. Fashioning myself a civilized pervert, there was only one real answer. I kneeled down in front of her.

“Esther, if we form an Anomalia, you and me, I would never just invite someone into it without making sure you got along with her. I want to be happy with you, not despite you,” I reached out and took her hand, kissed her ring finger. “If Karona, or other women that catch my interest, can’t be part of that, I will honestly be disappointed, but I will accept what it is. Just as long as you make sensible decisions, I will do my best to give sensible answers, does that sound okay?”

“Undeserved Karitas,” she said and gave me a wide, wonderful smile that showed her pearly, white teeth. “You scatter my doubts, that I appreciate you for.” She pulled me back with the hand I was still holding and then kissed me on the forehead. Not quite the lips, but we were getting closer. “That is more than I required to hear.” There was a pause, during which she embraced my head. I heard her heartbeat. Then, hesitantly, she added, “Thank you.”

I was all too happy to say (and mean) these things, if this was the reward.

______________________________________________________________________

 

My good mood did not die down in any way, shape, or form for the entire time it took for us to travel to Café Served, quite the contrary. Had she not been with me the entire time, it may have dropped a little bit. Instead, she was not only with me but quite cuddly for the duration of the train ride.

Esther was nuzzled up against me. Her arms were slung around my chest, her head resting on my chest and shoulder. Strands of her hair tickled my chin when I moved, but that was a worthwhile sacrifice. As was the slight amount of sweating I did, due to the heat I experienced from those two massive melons squishing against my side. Although we weren’t doing much in the way of talking, she periodically purred sweet nothings in my ear. Once, she even kissed my neck.

There was a single word for the situation. The word was ‘amazing’. I was actually quite certain that a description of it would be found next to the word in the dictionary. If not, it was my humble opinion that it had to be added post-haste.

My answer must have meant even more to her than I initially guessed. A success on every level. Not only had she confessed something to me, the resulting conversation had also brought us closer together and made her day. I still didn’t quite have her, the proper kiss was denied to me and it wasn’t like we had formed the Anomalia now. I did, however, feel like we had entered into ‘officially dating’ territory now. Which was a foregone conclusion in many ways, but nevertheless fantastic to arrive at.

We walked through Welldark City at a leisurely pace. Because of Esther’s dutiful character, we had moved out way too early. While the walk was less enjoyable than the train ride, courtesy of the fact that her breasts were no longer squished against me, we still talked nicely and held hands. Not my favourite part to hold, I was the ‘arm around the waist’ kind of guy, but I would take what I could get.

I happened to realize a new thing about the city that I had previously missed and ignored in equal measure. A few streets in the city had oddly looking pillars on them. They were about hip high and a metre across. Overall, they looked quite a bit like a smoothened metal barrel.

From other streets I had seen in my life, I had come to interpret pillars of any description as a soft barrier between road and walkway. While this was also a thing in Welldark, the rarity of cars made that barrier more of a formality. Basically, all motorized vehicles existed only to transport wares around. A process that, to the best of my knowledge, happened primarily through underground tunnels and warehouses. Everyone above walked freely on the streets proper and made room in the extremely rare case a car did truck around.

The question that hadn’t entered my mind was that of public transportation. Welldark City wasn’t big but it certainly wasn’t small either. If there was one thing that knew no end then it was the human (or humanoid, I should say) proclivity to conserve energy. Or being lazy, as it was commonly called. I had known enough people in my life that would principally refuse to take any walk that was longer than ten minutes.

By sheer chance, Esther and I happened to be around when someone approached such a barrel-like pillar. Placing their Ashod on top, the person fidgeted a bit with some program, then there was a sudden warning ‘beep’ and the edges of the floor tile the pillar was placed on began to glow. It was a lot larger than I had noticed, but I only really paid attention to floor tiles when I played that mind game where one tries not to step on the gaps. Something I most certainly did not have the attention for while I was with a gorgeous lady.

Anyway, me and Esther got the hint that we were asked to clear the platform. Other people nearby took a couple of seconds longer than us, causing the residents of the city to sigh and say something along the lines of “Same thing every season with the freshmen…”

Once the platform was actually clear of everyone but him, some sort of energy shield prevented other people from entering and the entire thing lifted up into the air. Once above the height of the houses, the platform flew off at a decent speed. It was slower than I could have run, but it was able to go in a straight line. Plus, it was, for some reason, not the social norm to run down roads. That was another thing I never quite got about society, everyone turning their head when someone sprinted somewhere.

A replacement platform rose up from underground, leaving the corner exactly as it had been found. Likely, the destination of the platform was going to lower down to let this one settle down.

That interesting series of events also pulled my attention away from Esther for long enough to observe the surrounding people. The frustrated residents hadn’t been lying, most everyone had that freshmen appearance to them. Something about the way they looked around everywhere and moved like there could be something surprising just gave it away.

I took it as confirmation of what Allister had said. With the first week of classes done and familiarity with the surroundings growing, everyone was looking to get drunk. I personally found it fascinating that almost every sapient species could get intoxicated by alcohol. Something about the Dimensional Truth only awakening in species that were physiologically and supernaturally similar enough to interbreed.

While the city wasn’t crowded yet, it was still the afternoon, there were the first signs of freshmen scouting where they would spend the rest of the evening. Although it wasn’t while downing booze, I would be hanging around with Esther the entirety of mine. I would say I was the luckiest guy in the city at the moment. Still, I wondered if a night out with her and a bottle of wine may be in the cards after our shift was over.

“Do you drink?” I asked, earning myself the first disapproving glance in a while. “Alcohol,” I added, to achieve the desired specificity.

“I have not partaken in the consumption of intoxicating substances, in neither a social nor private setting,” her expansive answer covered my question and every immediate follow up I could have had. As bloviating as it seemed sometimes, her manner of speaking was rather efficient.

Same could not be said about my own little extrapolations. “Okay, so, pardon my openness, my lady, but what doth thou do in times of stress? As you do not partake in the sweet indulging of your feminine shape nor influence your senses through intake of substances of elevating effects, I am left to wonder what it is you find relief in.” The whole segment boiled down to: what do you do for fun?

“I used to only train when I didn’t want to study, and study when I had finished training,” Esther responded and gave me a tiny smile. “Albeit, in recent times, I have found a viable third path to spend my time.”

“Hm, what would that be?” I coyly asked, winking at her.

“Swimming,” she responded without missing a beat. I let out a short burst of laughter.

Finally, we arrived in front of Café Served. Esther pulled me along to an alleyway, the feather on her hat bouncing at every step. There was a side-entrance that I didn’t yet know about, which Esther opened with the certainty of someone that had worked there for years. ‘A quickly adjusting one, truly,’ I thought, as we both got inside.

It was a direct entrance into the worker’s area in the back. We had a little look around for familiar faces and found none. As far as I was concerned, and confirmed to be custom around here by Esther’s behaviour, it was only good behaviour to announce oneself to whoever was in charge before starting to work. There were sounds from Allister’s office, so we would have gone there next, but someone in the break room stopped us before we went there.

“Oy! You the new meat?” It was a rough voice with a sharp undertone. That probably came from all the pointy teeth in his mouth, two rows of the flesh-rending design filling up his gums and making his grin something dangerous to behold. As if that wasn’t pointer enough, his smooth skin had a blueish hue to it and his eyes, while resting in the usual white sclera, were pitch black entirely. A shark-man.

He got up and revealed his sheer size. Well, width would have been more accurate. He was just a tad bigger than me, but bulky, with muscles that stretched his butler’s suit to an impressive degree. Half of that impressiveness was the fact that the suit was able to take it though. A typical butler, he was not, but he did seem like the kind of servant some people yearned for. Running a large, webbed hand over his shaved head, he waited for our answer.

“We got hired this week, so I presume we are,” I answered, trying to keep things light-hearted. “And, although this body is fairly young, I wouldn’t describe myself as fresh,” I gestured at Esther, “my lovely lady here, however, is certainly of the highest quality and untainted, something that I aim to preserve.”

Shaking her head in minor disapproval, Esther only added, “Good Karitas often exercises the capacity of his vocal cords beyond necessary function.”

The large shark-man looked back and forth between the two of us, then laughed. “If you two work half as hard as you are odd, you’re going to make waves,” he decided and slapped both of our shoulders. “My name is Hannibal. More on me later. Now, get changed, then I’ll show you the workplace.”

 Getting into my new work uniform wasn’t a quick affair. I didn’t know whether the Café Served was the kind of employer that provided a personal uniform, but even if they were, I had only signed the contract this week. If they had been able and willing to order something for me in that time, I would have been surprised. In reality, I had to scan the vast array of clothes hanging from the rack for the best fit.

As was usual for a workplace of this size, the order in which things should have been sorted was more of a formality. People had hung their uniforms where they could easiest find them on the start of their next shift. Replacement articles were carelessly plucked out of the cloth stands- shirts hung among the vests, ties and bowties shared a box, and there were gloves on the hat stack. Why there was a hat stack was a whole different question, I hadn’t seen anybody wear one yet.

Basically, like any workplace that wasn’t strictly regulated and led by someone that either didn’t care or didn’t want to be overbearing, the order of the clothes in the changing room had adjusted over time to fit the employees. While this made it a bit chaotic and less approachable for a newcomer like me, it did provide a bit of charm. I would rather have this bit of messiness than work at the clinical rigidness of a company chain. Of course, there was a limit to the acceptable messiness as well. Middle paths, in all things.

Regardless of that hindrance, I managed to work myself through a number of pants, shirts, vests, shoes and finally gloves. It took me about twenty minutes of finagling about in the changing room in varying states of undress, which must have been quite an interesting sight, before I arrived at a satisfying conclusion. Looking at myself in the mirror, I was the incarnation of a gentleman. In the black and white outfit, my blue eyes and healthy complexion were the only thing that provided colour. After all, my hair was just as white as my long-sleeved shirt was.

I tugged on everything one last time to make sure things were in order. The pants with the leather belt orderly held the shirt. The vest was buttoned correctly and stretched over my torso in a decorative fashion. My sleeves sat tight and comfortable.

‘I just hope these gloves are fluid resistant,’ I thought, wiggling my fingers inside the white things. ‘Could be that they are just for the normal line of work and I am making a fool out of myself…’ In a spontaneous gesture, I decided to grab a hat from the hat stack. A standard black thing made from felted wool. If I was being wrong on one front, I might as well be on two. Something about wearing a hat today just spoke to me. It gave my hair the same black and white flair as the rest of the outfit.

When I stepped out of the changing room and into the connected break room, the shark-man and Esther were waiting for me. To no surprise. “I was about to come looking for you,” the former grunted, putting a pocket watch into his breast pocket.

“Finding my way around the clothing wasn’t easy,” I defended myself with a dissuading smile. “Does it take the average newcomer less time?”

“Yeah,” he stated and inspected me more carefully. I stood still when he got up and circled me two times. “Although fresh meat normally comes out with all kinds of things that needs correcting, so this isn’t too bad,” he turned to a pink-haired woman who was staring at her Ashod and eating potato chips out of a bag. She was pretty good at not getting any of the resulting crumbs on her maid uniform. “What do you say, Mathilda?”

Addressed, the employee looked up at me, swallowed what was in her mouth and answered, “Can I exchange you for him? He is rocking the look.”

“Why thank you,” I took a quick bow at the compliment, while Hannibal just scoffed in a playfully offended manner.

“First time in a long time that I have seen someone wear one of those hats,” she added. “Was part of the male uniform, until Allister decided he had enough of it.” I noted that she was referring to her boss on a first name basis. Only strengthened my impression that this place had a tight-knit core community. “He looks good with it though.”

“I also skipped the jacket; I hope that’s fine?” I asked, since we were already on the topic of reviewing how I looked. “Also need to know if the gloves are water resistant. Don’t want to run around with clam hands all evening.”

“It is and they are,” the shark man answered this time around. “Gives you a more barista look. Fits for the bar and Allister doesn’t get to make decisions there,” he said in the tone of a long-time employee that, officially, still had to take whatever the boss told him but had carved out his own little kingdom in the workplace. “You better ask the chief if he’s fine with it before you run around like that in the main rooms.”

“I’ll keep it in mind for Monday,” I promised and extended my hand. “Anyway, to introduce myself formally, I'm Karitas.”

He took it immediately and my hand vanished almost entirely in his paw. “Hannibal, in case you managed to forget already,” he declared with a grin of his sharp mouth. Returning the favour, he turned towards Esther. “Nice to meet you two.”

“Esther. Likewise,” she responded and answered the gesture appropriately. It seemed things could finally get to the actual work part of things, when she spoke up on a related matter. “Are hats allowed for all employees?”

“I mean… fundamentally, yes?” Hannibal seemed a tad confused by the question.

Esther, however, just needed to hear the word yes to move. In a decisive gesture, she pulled off the frilly headband and walked over to the changing room. A few moments later, she returned with her tricorne. Since it was black with a white feather, it wasn’t entirely unfitting for her outfit. She walked back up to us, to the snickering of Mathilda and the somewhat baffled look of Hannibal. I wasn’t surprised whatsoever.

“Well, I guess it gives you two some sort of partner look,” the shark man decided and let the topic rest. “We have work to do, so let’s get to it.”

“Have fun, honey,” Mathilda waved us goodbye, going back to her potato chips.

We left the break area and went to the kitchen. To be more accurate, we skirted by the kitchen. I could see people working there, but we simply went by the area where maids and butlers fetched orders and approached the stairs in the back. They went up and down. As I knew we would, we went down. Emerging in a small kitchen room, we then went into the bar proper. At the flip of a switch, the lights turned on and revealed to us our workplace.

It had a surprisingly common bar foundation. The walls and the long bar were fashioned from a dark wood. The latter was a medium sized thing, with seven stools comfortably fitting along its length and its design extending along two thirds of the wall opposite of the entrance. The rest of that third was dedicated to the two doors that led to the restrooms.

The tables, benches and chairs were made from dark wood too. Covered with dark grey cushions, the latter two indirectly shared a colour scheme with the simple carpet floor. Currently, the chairs were stacked upside down on the tables, likely to allow for easier vacuuming of the premise.

What was layered on top of that rather mundane foundation made all the difference though. Art of, presumably famous, servants decorated the walls. Everything had a meticulous level of cleanliness and polish. The round tables were orderly placed about and white design elements everywhere invoked the image of embroidery in the same, flower-depicting style as the skirt of Esther’s uniform did. If I had to make a rough estimation, I would guess that about fifty people could comfortably fit in the room.

With my surroundings properly observed, my eyes were immediately glued to Esther. ‘Maid outfits are just fantastic,’ I thought as I scanned up from her black high heels, over the stockings, to the medium-length skirt and the swing of her hip. It was partly covered by the white apron that was bound around her waist and held by the perfectly symmetrical ribbon she had bound behind her back. It was the kind of apron that only covered the legs. The upper part of her stomach, chest and shoulders were all covered in black cloth, beset with white frills.

My gaze would have gotten stuck at the magnificent cleavage, had I not noticed the fact that she was looking at me in much the same way. “Does my sight please you, my lady?” I took the opportunity and stepped close to her. “I would be happy to introduce you to more of it, if you gave me the opportunity.”

“I had the pleasure before,” she stated, albeit a lustful blush betrayed that it wasn’t a dismissal. A fun fact, a wonderful fact really, was that the humanoid body blushed differently depending on the emotion. A person that was ashamed would generally turn red only around the face. A person that was happy blushed basically with their whole body, but particularly with the face and the upper chest.

Which meant that Esther’s cleavage was just as affected as her face was in gaining a reddish tint to its healthy complexion. Delicious to look at, it had to be said. The high heels also brought them just a bit closer to my face than before. “I’m certain we would both find a refreshing of our memories to be agreeable,” I stated and seductively pulled at my tie, without loosening it.

“Keep it for the customers,” Hannibal interrupted with a berating tone, taking a look at the clock. “We have forty more minutes for preparations, so we better get going.” Esther and I created some professional distance. As much as I disliked any amount of distance between us, I had agreed to work so I would do my job with the aim of satisfying my employer. “Since this is your first night, we’ll keep things relatively easy. You have three jobs. You take orders whenever somebody asks, you bring the orders when they are ready and you make sure things stay clean. Aside from that, be pretty, be competent and be present. If you do your job well enough, I might allow you to help behind the bar. Otherwise you’ll leave the preparation of drinks to me and Mathilda. Understood?”

“”Yes,”” both of us replied at once.

Hannibal seemed pleased with that. “Alright, then get the chairs off the tables. Check for any stains that the previous shift may have overlooked when they closed the shop. Water and buckets are in the kitchen. Don’t forget to dry wipe afterwards. Oh and one more thing…” the shark man looked back and forth between the two of us. “If somebody unpleasant refuses to leave, the protocol goes as follows. Step 1, point at me,” the giant of a musclebound butler pointed at his broad chest with the thumb of his webbed right hand. “If that doesn’t deter them, I want you to think about whether you can take care of it quickly yourself or not. If you can, Step 2 is drag them out. Otherwise, you call me. I’ll be busy, so I’d appreciate it if you could take care of your fellow first years yourself.”

I was just going to guess that freshmen drinking to excess and doing rather unsavoury things was somewhat usual, especially in the first few weeks. “Understood,” I answered and Esther nodded along. Hannibal grunted in a pleased fashion, then waved us away, while he went to inspect the rows of bottles behind the bar.

The preparations were finished quickly, since everything already had a pristine look to it. A short waiting time allowed us to ask some semi-important questions. Where the dustpan was, how we should deal with spilled drink, how we should handle persistent, unwanted flirting, that sort of thing. Hannibal was an understanding fellow, reacting to the questions with patience and well-meant jokes. His exterior was, well, he was a shark man, he wasn’t exactly attractive and I would be lying if I thought he looked approachable in general. Underneath that (somewhat leathery) exterior lay a gentle, if somewhat rough soul though.

Meek would be the word I would have used to describe him. Not the version of meek that became increasingly popular, which basically meant the same as docile. The traditional meaning, someone that didn’t punch unless he saw no other way, but always kept the option of punching open. That character trait was surrounded by a tough guy, however.

A tough guy that already poured himself the first beer before the first customer arrived. ‘I am just going to assume he can hold his liquor,’ I thought and let him indulge without questioning further.

Shortly after the doors opened, another side entrance that led directly into this cellar room, the first customers arrived. Regulars, as was easily observable by the fact that they shouted at Hannibal the moment they were in and sat down directly at the bar. Nothing for me and Esther to do. We hung around the entrance and chatted a little, waiting for any more people to arrive.

Which, of course, eventually, they did.

It was incredible. At first, there were only a few people that entered the quiet bar. Little work was to be done at the time, so I even chatted with more than a few of the lovely ladies. Suddenly, however, as if some sort of dam had broken, the room was filled to the brim. I wasn’t quite sure when it had happened, when the moments between taking orders and bringing them to the tables had been reduced from minutes to seconds, and then finally gone completely. Fact was that it had happened.

It was during that storm that Hannibal allowed me to do some minor assisting behind the bar. Minor being the operative word. He and Mathilda kept making cocktails and other shakes, while Esther and I were tasked with working the tap. After inspecting what I was doing for the first few glasses, Hannibal just let me do that part on my own.

Once all the tables were taken and everyone was through their first beverage, things slowed down tremendously. I noticed a number of things about different kinds of drinking behaviours that evening. I also found it interesting just how many of the customers were men. Not to create any misunderstandings, the majority of the customers were still female, following the demographic reality of Welldark. It was just that, compared to the 1:10 ratio, there were way more guys than I would have thought. It was closer to 1:3.

‘I guess guys just like going out to drink more,’ I thought, something that was only confirmed by the tabs I was keeping. The girls were in the bar mostly to socialize with each other (even if quite a few were getting absolutely hammered). The guys were there to get hammered with their friends or to flirt (sometimes both, but not that often).

While I was observing all of this, I didn’t notice a subconscious trend between Esther and I before it had already established itself. At the start of the evening, it had naturally pulled me towards the tables that had majority women on them, for obvious reasons. Although I didn’t get any contact information from this, that was purely because I didn’t ask. I was quite confident that, if I had pushed things further than a bit of flirting here and there, I could have had a very successful evening.

On the opposite side, Esther was being called by tables with majority men on them more often than not. That I was eventually going to these same tables when their glasses were about to be empty, just so they couldn’t call out to her, wasn’t something I actively realized for a long while. Once I had noticed that about myself, I noticed that Esther was doing much the same for the female crowd. Which of us had started was anyone’s guess.

I could have reversed that trend after realizing it existed. Ultimately, I decided not to. Yes, flirting with more girls would have been pleasant. However, that would have been all they could have been: pleasant. Trading in that pleasantry to be a wall between Esther and the flirtation attempts of other men was something I was happy to do. Minorly insecure and overprotective behaviour, perhaps, but I would be lying if I said I was perfect.

Another thing I learned quite quickly was how to courtfully deny the offer to drink a round of shots with the customers. Welldark didn’t have a tipping culture. You generally paid for what you got and you paid the pre-agreed prices with an automatic transaction. While transferring more Dark than asked was a thing people could do, it clearly wasn’t a thing anybody expected.

Which people from more tip-enthused societies compensated for by insisting I drink something with them. Sometimes I obliged, but by far, not every time. Otherwise, I would have been swaying around drunk within two hours of my shift. Instead, I just got slightly tipsy.

All of those general trends aside, I had some highlights as well. Such as throwing a couple out for having sex in a toilet stall. Something they were not particularly thankful for. At another time, I had to repair the pool table (of which there was only one). Something had been stuck in the mechanism that let the balls roll into the hole in the side to retrieve them for the next round. Not an immediate problem until somebody had sunk the white one. As I was somewhat mechanically gifted (and pool tables weren’t too complicated) I got it done in about ten minutes.

Another thing that happened was that someone cleared off their table with a swipe of their arm in a drunken and heated argument. The shock of the breaking glass at least convinced them to leave off their own accord. That I could just materialize a dustpan where I was with my powers, rather than having to fetch one, was noted by Hannibal. In a joking fashion, he suggested that I should be hired as a janitor instead.

Lastly, on a lewd note, was a wonderful moment where a whole table of girls decided that it would be funny if they all flashed their breasts at the same time. Something that I appreciated tremendously, but would have had to throw them out for if Esther hadn’t been on the case quicker than a bee was on honey.

When a debate ensued about Esther being ‘no fun’ Hannibal got involved and all the girls consequently were banned from the establishment until the end of the month. A decision I had to agree with, given that this wasn’t that kind of a bar, but which made me unhappy regardless.

Speaking of Esther, the bar work was clearly better suited for her than the general maid work – especially during the hectic stretch of the evening. Her ‘to the point’ personality made her incredibly efficient and people didn’t really care that she was missing the gentle and nice personality they were likely looking for in a maid. To put it easily, the lower amount of customer interactions worked out in her favour.

As for the worst part of the evening, that was probably when I dragged someone out who had groped Esther’s butt in passing. Something she would have happily done herself, I am sure, but I happened to be around and took offense quite quickly. Didn’t take a lot of force to get rid of the guy either. Once I had won a basic strength contest, I just pulled him to the door and he stumbled away with the rest of his broken pride.

After eight hours of this and just general work, Hannibal called us to the bar. “Alroight…” his tone was slurred, clearly influenced by the alcohol he had been drinking. His hands worked with the same precision as they had been from the start, however. “…Is pasht midnight. Your shifts are over in a bit.”

I looked at the bar at large. It was still full, although I didn’t expect any new arrivals to replace who were currently present at the tables. “Can we just leave?” I asked regardless. “I’m willing to work overtime, if that makes things easier.”

“It is as Karitas says,” Esther nodded. “Although I would demand compensation for the additional time.”

“No, no, is fine,” Hannibal grabbed the glass of beer that he had prepared for himself and took a chunky gulp. “Is the same every year. First years think they can be silly here, some stuff happens, and starting around midnight things ebb away and by two in the morning basically everyone is gone. Brunt of the work is done.” He put the glass down and blinked, his black eyes focusing me and Esther properly in a semi-sober moment. “You did pretty well. Most new people can’t even hold the tablet right. Next week will be a repeat of this. After that, it should mellow out a lot. Most of our regulars avoid coming here while the freshman parties are ravaging about.”

“I mean…” I remembered all the things that had happened during the shift. “I guess I can’t blame them.” I took my hat off, more or less as a sign that I was starting to get out of my uniform, and then said. “I hope we’ll get along well,” I offered a handshake in goodbye, an offer that Hannibal took firmly and then repeated for Esther, basically repeating our introduction. Then the two of us headed for the stairs in the back and left the bar behind.

I was out of the building and in the pleasantly cool air of the summer night long before Esther. I could hear the buzzing of the bar around the corner, but just kept standing where I was and waited. After over eight hours of near constant talking and walking, standing in relative quiet was pleasant. Sitting would have been even better, but there was no convenient bench around.

‘She is taking really long,’ I thought, when I stood there for a full five minutes. I hadn’t changed back at any quick pace myself. Aside from my boxers and my socks, every last article of clothing I had worn had been part of the uniform and I had taken the time to hang all of them back into their proper place. After another two minutes, I decided to head back inside and check what was taking her so long.

I walked through the empty staff area. It was a bit unnerving, not in the scary but in the unusual sense. Once I had been to this place a few more times and saw it less as a vacated restaurant and more like my workplace after closing hours, that feeling was bound to fade.

I went to the changing areas and looked around. Another woman walked by me. Not to any worry, I had seen her face before, she was another employee. What she was doing there at this hour, I didn’t know, but there was surely more to do than man the bar. We passed with only a minimum of niceties. She didn’t seem to be in a hurry, but neither did she seem enthused to stay longer than she had to.

Once at the changing area, I looked around. The door to the men’s changing room was as open as I had left it. I approached the other side and the closed door. In a very interesting turn of thoughts, I could actively feel the alcohol in my system tell me that storming through the door in a sudden movement was the absolutely best idea anyone had ever had. Thankfully, I was only tipsy and I remembered how Esther had reacted when I had accidentally lifted her shirt even the slightest bit in the past.

Instead, I only knocked on the door and asked, “Esther, you in there?”

“Yes,” came the quick and surprisingly hard answer. “Stay outside.”

“Didn’t plan to open the door,” I promised and took a deliberate step back. After about three minutes, Esther came out, looking as sexy as usual in her casual clothes. “Sorry, just wondered what delayed you,” I assured her. “Didn’t want to hurry you up or anything.”

“The room was occupied,” Esther simply stated. I peeked behind her, just to confirm that the women’s changing room was as large as the men’s. There was no reason she couldn’t have changed along with the other woman – aside from personal issues. I looked at her clothes, how they covered the majority of her skin and was reminded of the fact that I had never actually seen any part of her torso naked. “Please do not ask,” I heard her whisper, her voice was incredibly weak for those four words.

“Let’s go out,” I decided, obliging her request with a smile on my face that was meant to be distracting. Some very sensitive subject was being touched upon and I wasn’t going to unearth it unwantedly.

“Indeed,” Esther let a relieved, audible breath flow from her lungs and resumed her usual straightness. “We should leave the building.”

“No – I mean, yes, also that,” I babbled and laughed, taken aback by how literal she took that. “I mean let’s have a date, right now.” She looked at me with a raised eyebrow, but I was already putting an arm around her waist and pulled her along. An affirmative gesture like that often got her to go along with my demands, as I had observed. “Just trust me, my lady, and I’ll make it worth your while.”

____________________________________________________________________

 

Fundamentally, I wanted to continue Sunday’s date. Although no restaurants were open at this hour, I was sure we could find something to pass the time. There was always something to do. Personally, I found watching people in and of itself quite interesting. Especially if those people were young, drunk, and making bad decisions.

As Hannibal had said, the majority of freshmen were in the process of leaving. What was still shambling about was a wrecked mix of the drunk and the tired. Aside from my fellow students, people in dark uniforms marched through the streets. They had numerous responsibilities, such as breaking up fights, poking people that had fallen asleep on benches or washing vomit off the sidewalk. They seemed to be police and cleaners rolled into one.

“They keep their city in order,” Esther stated with an approving nod.

“Just the right amount of it,” I agreed and was given a questioning glance. “I don’t like cities that are too clean. Makes me feel like I’m not welcome there, with my dirty shoes and what not… did you ever visit Hell?”

It took her a bit longer than usual to formulate her answer. “I have been there once. It was a visit of limited duration and scope. No time for sightseeing.”

“Well, Hell is separated into Sin-Districts and those are then further sub-categorized,” I quickly explained. “In the pride area of Hell, there is a particular set of blocks where the denizens obsess over their surroundings. The streets there are cleaner than dinner plates. Never liked it.”

“I would have to be there to gain an impression,” Esther returned. “I can imagine it to be oppressive. However, it also occurs to me to be a great ideal.”

I chuckled, as I already knew her to be the sort of person that arranged cooking ingredients in a cupboard by size. “No, I don’t think you would like it there,” I told her. “For your ideals, my dear lady, are that of practicality. Theirs were that of sparkling vanity and their desire to clean had been driven to its pathological extreme. It is a place made to look perfect, not to be interacted with.”

“A place of appearances over practicality does sound infuriating. I shall believe you then, good Karitas.” Esther brushed a strand of hair behind her ear, a gesture that I couldn’t help but marvel at. “We are being watched,” she stated afterwards and I followed her gaze up to one of the many bell towers that rose against the night sky.

Atop one stood a person with a glowing staff, illuminating himself just enough that I could make out their shape. What direction that watcher was facing, I couldn’t even guess and I had, as far as humanity was concerned, exceptionally good sight. Esther having those snake or catlike eyes wasn’t just for show. Which made me wonder if she was incredibly light sensitive in return. I would investigate this another time.

“Must be the tower’s bell watcher,” I made the rather easy conclusion. “I guess they are wary of drunk first years daring each other to go into places they aren’t supposed to.”

“Were you ever in the presence of one of those bells?” Esther asked, evidently intrigued.

“A couple of times,” I kept it vague, not wanting to dwell on the topic for too long. “I haven’t had a teacher, so I needed to follow the ring while I learned to travel. What about you?”

“Never,” she shook her head. “I had a teacher and talent. Instructions carried me to safer places.” Lifting her gaze from the bell tower watcher, she looked at me. Piqued interest reflected in her amber eyes, “It has never been brought to me what makes the bells dangerous.”

“You will find out when the time is right,” I said. Since I knew she was a bit further along than most others, I felt okay to add. “Let’s just say part of them is not for unprepared minds.”

“I must wonder why you have such advanced knowledge of the Dimensional Truth,” Esther said, then lowered her head while shaking it. “Ignore that, if you mind the question. It is not my place nor my right to coax your life’s story from you.”

I was in agreement; this was the silent bargain we had struck. Not that I was happy with it. As a matter of fact, I was more than a bit bothered. Necessity dictated it as the smart policy, however, and so I kept my mouth shut and simply let the topic die. The silence that ensued was reason enough to clear out our secrets one day. It shouldn’t be today though.

I guided our steps in random directions. As the man and the person who had asked her out, I saw it as my obligation to make the call where we went. That my arm was still wrapped around her waist also put me in the leading position in a physical sense. A big problem: I had no idea where to go.

As I was considering whether or not I could interrupt our momentum for long enough to check the map on my Ashod, I saw light in a building down the street. Interested, and hoping for the best, I guided us there. Whatever the location was, it was free of the steady buzz of students. At the very least, that gave me reason to hope it wasn’t a bar. That much was quickly confirmed.

Through the large window before us, we could look into the sizable sports store. Boxing gloves, protein powder, weights, workout clothes and other such things hung from the walls. More interesting, however, was the ring I could see in the middle of the customer’s area. It was square, about half a metre elevated from the remaining floor and had the usual rope barriers along its sides. A usage fee was hanging behind the window.

“Want to go for a spar?” I offered and Esther glanced at the price. It was easily affordable and fed nicely into the competitions we often had going on. ‘It won’t last us the evening, but It’ll be a start,’ I thought. A simple nod from her was all that I needed to pull the door.

I didn’t question why a shop like this would be open at this hour. Could have been a seasonal thing, to accommodate new students looking to get physically fit to attract more interest. Perhaps the shop was always open around the clock. Maybe, just maybe, it was a today-only thing, because the owner wanted to provide a place where drunk and angry people could have fights to his amusement. To some degree, I could sympathize with that idea.

We were provided some basic boxing gloves and offered to change clothes in some cabins used for test wearing normally. The latter was completely unnecessary, since we didn’t have spare clothes and, even if we did, we would have changed afterwards. Esther and I were both in the habit of wearing clothes that were easy to move in.

“Could I convince you to at least take your bra off?” I joked, while we strapped on the padded gloves. While our Astral Bodies would prevent any real harm, there was no good reason to make a basic spar any more painful than it needed to be.

Esther looked down on her sizable chest for a moment, then to me with one of her elegant, black eyebrows raised. “I fail to understand why I would disadvantage myself,” she stated. “You are the superior boxer. Making my centre of gravity less consistent will only serve to further that gap.” What an interesting way to say that her big breasts would sway all over the place.

“It wouldn’t be to your disadvantage,” I promised with the grin of an honest pervert. “The jiggle of your magnificent breasts will distract me, greatly slowing my movements.” My reward for this was a soft jab to the shoulder, along with an equally dismissive and amused shaking of her head. “Perhaps you should humour me, as a reward for my victories?” I suggested. Past interactions had shown that I could ‘bully’ her into doing what I wanted, if I went about it with equal parts charisma and insistence.

Did it make me a bit of a cunt to exploit the fact that I could manipulate her? To a degree, probably. I, however, was also aware that I couldn’t push her to do anything she actually disliked. In a way, it was my responsibility, as the first man that had managed to keep her attention, to help her find her comfort zone by testing her limits. At the same time, it was in my interest to have our limits overlap as much as possible. That was part of being compatible as partners.

“Giving you such a motivation is firmly to my disadvantage,” Esther denied and firmly tugged the wrist-strap into a comfortable tightness. “Let us commence. While your talk doesn’t tire me, I would prefer to underline it with action.”

“Fine, fine,” I sighed, having not gotten what I wanted in this exchange.

Just as we were about to enter the ring, I heard the entrance bell. If it hadn’t been the natural inclination of every person to inspect changes in the environment, the immediate and clear darkening of Esther’s impression would have caused me to turn anyway. Before the closing door stood, wearing a black cropped top and yoga pants, Karona.

The grey-skinned succubus was showing off everything she had. The top was more than just a little cropped, basically closer to a large bra than a shirt, creating a squeezed cleavage and leaving most of her chest and all of her midriff exposed. There was no unnecessary fat anywhere on her hourglass-shaped body. The muscles in her midriff, defined but not overly pronounced, shifted with every step. I could see a bare hint of her ribcage. Didn’t sound particularly sexy when put like that, I knew some guys preferred their women with more meat, but for me it showcased her fitness and health. The top she had worn during combat class had been more ‘decent’. I appreciated the new insights.

“Ah, I caught you after all,” Karona grinned when she was in range. “Fancy that.”

“Fancy,” Esther crossed her arms and stood tall. A more upright and less offensive posture than I had expected. “An inappropriate description.”

“Look, I usually enjoy your presence,” I added, trying, as always, to balance my current interest in Esther with future chances with Karona, “but I do have to ask: how are you here right now?”

“Ah, you know,” the succubus’ tail waved in a mischievous way. “I was out and about with some new friends and that party turned into a bit of a bust.” In no subtle way, she moved her shoulders to accentuate her cleavage while saying that word. “So, I decided to check out the place I referred you to. Had a drink with Hannibal, really nice guy, and his Jack, found out you left already, decided to wander around a bit and just happened to find you in a stroke of luck.”

I had been with the shark man for several hours and didn’t get a clue that the woman who had been with us the entire time had been his Jack. Anomalia member, yes, sure, obvious enough, but specific position? Regardless of that, had I been decisive in where to go, Karona would probably not have found us.

“I hope you don’t mind my interruption,” the succubus added, winking at me.

Esther’s voice cut in before I could think of a well-balanced response. “I do,” she stated outright. The hostility in those words was evident, but only underlying to the firmness of her tone. Esther was approaching this ‘threat’ to our relationship more measuredly than before. Wherever her ability to handle this situation with relative calm suddenly came from, I highly appreciated it. “My Karitas is currently on a date with me.” I also fully embraced the use of possessive language like that. “Your presence is not wanted.”

“Stuck up as always,” Karona walked towards Esther and used the slight edge in height that she had to give a demeaning glance. “I’m sure ‘your’ Karitas can handle both of us.”

“An unrelated topic,” the lady of my desires said dismissively. “Your presence is not wanted. Shut your mouth and find yourself another man to shallowly flaunt your sexuality towards.” Well, her tone was less hostile, but we had now officially crossed into confrontation territory.

“And what if I don’t?” Karona hissed.

There was a moment of silence, the two of them just glaring at each other. Bowing down to her ear, I asked Esther, “Do you want me to get involved in this?” I didn’t know what I could do, but I would do something if necessary. Esther turned her eyes to me, the amber reflecting annoyance and calm.

“I will solve this,” she assured me and I, with a small nod, backed off. The raven-haired lady smiled thankfully for just a moment and then turned her attention back to Karona. “As time flows right now you have but two choices,” Esther answered the succubus’ question. “Wait until Karitas and I decide our relationship or be put in your place at this very moment.”

“Oh? How about we make it a bet then?” Karona asked, her usual teasing mixing with her anger. “Let’s have a match. If you win, sure, I’ll back off. If you lose, I get to do whatever I please around Karitas.”

This whole situation had escalated beyond my control now. I did not like it. I wasn’t a control freak, or at least I hoped I wasn’t. Hard to be truly aware of such things. Regardless, I did want to have some influence on the why and how two gorgeous babes were fighting over me. A blowjob match would have been my prefered method of solving this.

The irony of the situation being that Karona was quite likely to agree to such a thing and Esther, the girl I was actually more interested in, was currently solving things through diplomacy (and its extension: warfare). Went to show how little I knew about what I actually wanted from life.

Intervening in this affair was still an option. However, if I was to trust Esther as my Queen in the future then I had to trust her in this now. Little as I liked it on a gut level, it was best if I relinquished some control here and let the chips fall as they may. 

“I accept that wager,” the raven-haired lady decided. “You may fight with your bare hands. Karitas informed me you prefer it that way.”

‘That’s a not-so-subtle hint that I talk to her about everything…’ I thought as the two, without another word, entered the ring. I took off the boxing gloves, just to scratch my head and sigh. This spontaneous date had turned out to be a lot more complicated than I had bargained for.

“You’re students, right?” the shopkeeper, a muscular man in his forties, asked me. His approach caught me a bit off-guard. My usual awareness was compromised by the focus on the two girls in the ring.

“Yeah… why?” I asked.

“Because I don’t want anyone bleeding over my ring,” he answered, smiled and crossed his arms. “You Astral Body types don’t splatter around and since that girl’s nails look rather sharp, I just wondered if I had to charge you extra.”

“Fair enough,” I responded, a bit shorter on words than usual. I also adjusted my posture a bit. Another pointer towards me being a bit of an immoral person was the fact that the approaching catfight was giving me a respectable half-mast. I didn’t enjoy why this was happening, I very much enjoyed that it was happening. Girls fighting over me played right into my desires as a sadist, a dom and a guy whose dream in life was a sizable harem.

“Wanna bet on who is going to win?” the shopkeeper asked in a quiet tone. I felt reinforced in my theory that it was indeed the drama fights that made him keep his shop up at this hour.

I shook my head. “Wouldn’t be much of a bet,” I explained and then we shifted our attention to the ring.

Esther was slowly raising and lowering her fist, gauging the change in weight to her limb. On the right side of the ring, Karona was making her own preparations, circling her wrists and moving her fingers individually to get them relaxed.

“Last chance to be a good girl without getting humiliated,” Karona’s tone was one of mocking friendliness. “Seriously, you think you can just declare yourself his sole interest? Do you have any idea where we are?”

Esther kept her answer short, “Yes. I am coming to terms with it.” Planting her feet properly, she raised her arms in a standard martial art stance. One fist was pointed at her opponent as an immediate threat, the other was held low and ready to strike.

Karona’s tail came to a standstill, curving in a threatening fashion. Sharp, short spikes sprouted from its black, smooth surface and her backwards bent horns, giving both a more aggressive look (and doubtlessly making them more dangerous in general). My suspicion that she was a Thornborne succubus was finally confirmed.

The red-headed demon lowered her posture, kept her knees bent and ready. Fingers tensing, presenting her pointy nails as claws. Neither party moved immediately. The usual calm before the fight.

Esther was the one who started things, taking a single step in Karona’s direction. All the succubus did in reaction was move to the side. The raised right kept pointing at her head. Her dark red eyes kept track of my desired lady’s movement. Esther took a second step. Then a third.

At the fourth, when the distance between them had more than halved, Karona stormed forwards. She was fast. Much faster than I had expected. A feeling Esther must have shared, as the succubus successfully weaved around the raised fist and got on her left. The best defence Esther had was to hastily draw the extended arm back and aim her elbow at Karona.

Having anticipated this, the succubus tilted her head into the direction of the attack. What would have been a terrible idea for most people was exactly the right answer for someone that had an incomplete horn halo covering most of their head. The counter bounced off the crown of thorns, pricked Esther’s elbow, and left Karona to continue the offensive.

A quick twist of the succubus’ torso and the consequent slash went in the direction of Esther’s head. Bending backwards, she saved her face, but not the tricorne. The attack sent the hat flying out of the ring.

“You’re going to regret this,” Karona giggled gleefully, evidently sure of her victory. “You should have fought me in a duel with your Artefact. You would have had better chances then.”

Again, Esther didn’t honour that with a response. Instead, she tried to swipe Karona’s feet away under her. Another thing that the succubus saw coming. Rather than try to intercept it, she decided to use it to her advantage. The hand still raised suddenly clawed into my lady’s raven-haired scalp and dropped down.

With one leg in motion Esther had no choice but to drop along. Two bodies hit the floor and the shopkeeper whistled. “Guess you were right, it wouldn’t be much of a bet. That succubus is way better.”

Somehow, that hit me in my personal pride. “Just give it a second,” I stated, staying calm and confident outwardly. The basic primate in me said I should hope that Karona, with all of her lust and directness, won. However, the reasonable part of me knew that an Anomalia, a harem, was more than a gathering of sexual acquaintances. It was a whole group of girls around me that also had to get along with each other. For my future mental health, it was important that I had a Queen who was happy with what she was the foremost member of. More than that, I needed a Queen who complimented my personal tastes by reigning in my excesses.

I took some time to enjoy the display. Although the grunts and yelps were not at the pitch I enjoyed to hear from women, the aggressive winding of their bodies was sexy despite the affiliated violence. They rolled over one after another, trying to get on top. Esther’s clothes were torn numerous times by Karona’s spiked thorn-covered tail. As thin as it was, the extra limb was quite useful in this situation. As was the fact that her horns made it harder to grapple her head. It was almost like succubi had evolved in order to have advantages in catfights like this.

Given the demon kinds’ favourite source of nourishment and the likely stiff competition over high-quality meals, that explanation wasn’t as absurd as it might seem at first.

As much as I liked what I saw, I did take a pause in leering to walk over to where Esther’s tricorne had fallen. I picked it up, only for a familiar white band to flutter right past me when I straightened back up. Plucking it out of the air, I recognized it as Esther’s hair ribbon. ‘Well, I guess that’s that,’ I thought and looked back into the ring.

The two women had parted and were quickly getting back on their feet. Karona was breathing quickly, while Esther kept hers slow and controlled. Both looked unharmed, minor damage to clothes aside. Minor damage to yoga pants meant holes out of which their juicy thighs could partly spill. A wonderful look. Endurance was another topic, but both hid their state of exhaustion well.

Esther’s open hair fell past her shoulders in a fashion beyond wild. The silky-smooth strands ran criss-cross in their beautiful volume. She seemed as if she had been through a very, very wild and wonderful night. Combined with her lightly ruined clothes, it gave her a delinquent look of the sexiest variety. Something that I loved, but knew for a fact was part of the reason why Esther didn’t leave her room for hours in the morning.

I circled back to where the shopkeeper stood to identify my desired lady’s sulfuric yellow eyes. ‘Yup, this is over,’ I thought again upon identifying the tell-tale mark of her angered state.

Keeping her annoyance under control, Esther resumed the earlier martial arts stance. Karona must have hoped for a simple repetition of the earlier engagement. Sure enough, the raven-haired lady took slow steps towards her opponent again. It was the Thornborne succubus’ mistake to assume the same cautious intent lay in those steps.

Letting her approach five steps this time, Karona nevertheless charged towards Esther for the second time. She was fast, I had noted this earlier. It was only too bad that speed alone wasn’t enough. The moment the Thornborne succubus started sprinting, Esther threw her punch. To her credit, Karona managed to dodge that with ease. She failed to realize the feint or her own physical inferiority, however.

The right hook turned into a grab, pulling Karona into a suddenly raised knee. From what I could see, it was doubtlessly true that Karona had more experience in hand to hand combat. She also had a knack for analysing her opponent’s strategy ahead of time. Karona was a good fighter.

The problem was that Esther was formidable.

The knee got buried in Karona’s stomach, who let out a tormented rattle. Letting go, Esther gave the succubus the space to stumble backwards. An instinct she followed. Two stumbling steps by Karona, one firm one by Esther in pursuit. The succubus’ Astral Body kicked in, the pain diminished and she straightened up. Just in time for her to put up potential resistance against Esther.

Which was all the raven-haired lady had waited for. With a precise left jab, she cut right through Karona’s defences and landed a blow on her shoulder. Again, the succubus stumbled backwards. Again, Esther waited until she recovered. Then another swing.

Karona was good at reading her opponent. Esther learned their behaviour patterns. For someone who could turn back any injuries they received, slow and methodical study would naturally be an option. Now that the lady of my desires had figured out the basics of Karona’s approach, she wouldn’t be surprised again.

Before long, Karona found herself pushed against the ropes and lashed out with a desperate shout. Both clawed hands aimed at Esther’s face, but never found their target. After turning out of the way, Esther delivered a powerful blow to the side of Karona’s own visage. The impact smashed her against the floor. Although the daze would have been cleared rather quickly, Esther prevented her opponent from recovering by placing a heel on Karona’s shoulder.

“Fix your arrogance.” Having won her battle, Esther handed out basic (if unwanted) advice, just like she had done with Aclysia. “And never touch my hair.”

Esther raised her foot and turned to leave. Until she had left the ring, my body was tensed up. I feared that Karona would do something stupid. Her red gaze betrayed that her previous animosity had changed into unyielding anger, one step short of hate. However, that was all she showed for the moment.

“Thank you, patient Karitas,” Esther said, when I handed over her hat and ribbon. She bound her hair back together quickly and put the tricorne on top to hide her sexy, dishevelled chaos. A shame, but an expected one. “Let us leave,” she then declared and was already heading for the exit before I could make a response.

I took a moment to look back at Karona. “If you hear her advice, I’d be happy to hang out some more,” I let her know, equally trying to reinforce Esther’s point and keep that bridge lowered. On the slight chance that she did eat this humble pie, Karona could still be someone fun to have around. Whether she was a candidate for my harem was more questionable.

“I’ll keep it in mind,” Karona hissed. Her tone betrayed that those chances were very slim indeed.