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Well, I've heard it said that fresh air is often good for thinking – and now that I recall, the gate guard's rather nice, as well. Maybe consulting her over my woes and whatever this gnawing I'm feeling is could be helpful. It's better than sitting here listening to my master try to beat her record for largest number of sequential coughs. Three dozen's the best I've heard so far, and I'm impressed she had enough breath to get through that one.
Thankfully, I've been here just long enough that the sheer size of the library has stopped intimidating me... even more thankfully, magical flight comes cheap in this place. The wings on my head flutter and lift me up above bookshelves taller and wider than houses, letting me bypass the labyrinthine layout of this place. I occasionally glance below, and find that clothing myself was a little pointless; the fairies that're gathered here have already decided to have some fun. Admittedly, all of my hollering earlier can't have helped that situation any more – Patchouli might be immune to every one of my tricks, but these fairies are notoriously weak to... everything, really. They're just notoriously weak. I consider slinging some magic into the mix of a few, just to spice things up for them, but they probably wouldn't do much with the gifts anyway.
Somehow, the architect of this place avoided making the library's entrance as large as the thing itself. You'd almost believe normal humans live here, until you opened the double doors and realized you couldn't see the ceiling. Pushing them open, I arrive in the main foyer of the mansion. The actually important bits of it all link up here, which tends to be handy; very much saves time when you're trying to get from here to there. The helix staircase in its center runs through every floor, which seems like a much more preferable option than having to get to the end of a wing in order to change floors. But I'm not here to muse on architecture, or appreciate the suits of armor flanking the entrance like they're even necessary to guard the place; I'm here to head outside, so outside's where I head.
Now, no self-respecting demon would admit to their favorite color being green, but I won't say I mind the view whenever I head out here. The grass is always meticulously kept, which is a feat, because there is a lot of it; the courtyard they've fenced in with that brick wall is by no means small. It's cut through the center by a long trail of cobblestone, which is itself forced to part around a large marble statue. One of those water-spewing affairs, the kind that ensures there's always at least a slight sound of splashing. Not actually all that fond of it, not because of the noise, but mostly because cherubim are kind of assholes – never had a good run-in with one, don't think I ever will. The further I get down the cobble path, the more I can make out of the flower garden that runs the outer perimeter of the place. A chaotic kaleidoscope of colors, it looks like what was planted where wasn't given much thought, but I find that difficult to believe, as I've yet to spy a weed left to grow and its sheer vibrancy assures me it is exceedingly well cared for. And of course, omnipresent despite being free to roam wherever, there are squads of fairies flying around. Some are actually tending to the garden, some of them are engaging in adorable little lascivious public displays, but most are just playing games of tag and the like.
I stop for a second to take a sniff of the flowers, but find something much more entertaining hitting my nose. None of the little nature sprites going at it could possibly hit my senses like this, so I can hazard a guess as to what's going on across the border into the rest of this land. My head wings flutter, rather than shove open the spiked, iron-wrought gate, and so I'm greeted with the sight mansion security, Hong Meiling.
There are a number of features about her that are exceptionally easy to pick out, even at a glance. She's the tallest person living at this mansion without contest, beating the maid handily, and the maid isn't exactly short. While she doesn't look like some kind of herculean Adonis, she's nonetheless one of the only people I've seen since my arrival that has any kind of defined muscle at all, which would make her seem more imposing than most. Would, but her size and stature are offset by her eyes, a sparkling blue that always seem to say she's got time to sit and chat, if you do too. Her hair's about as long as mine, and a slightly brighter hue of ruby-red; I might have seen it shine once, when the light hit it just right, but I think that was just that 'chi' thing she talks about. I've never seen her in anything but a Chinese style dress, often one that's exceedingly high-cut; this jade colored affair with a gold dragon adorning its front isn't much different, and the region those slits reach would be scandalous, if this place had the concept of scandals. It really doesn't seem to, though, especially given the most obvious feature of her that's been saved for last.
In each of her arms at the moment is a fairy stripped of uniform, and judging by just how red their faces are, my estimate for how they're doing is roughly around, 'Keep me in coach, I can still do it.' That being mumbled by the half-conscious player who's getting dragged off the field. The reason for this is that the gate guard has not one, but two dicks growing out from where one might reasonably expect a girl has a hole, rather than a rod, one stacked atop the other. The fun doesn't stop there, though. Her nickname of 'The Dragon' seems to be quite literal, because they aren't actually humanoid. They're decidedly reptilian in nature, with a more pronounced tapering to a point, and a nearly pure white color. The barbs running along them might look painful, but given how I see them shifting, they're not actually solid enough to do any real damage, even to pint-sized toys like the fairies here. No, the problem the fairies are really having, and the reason they look like they can't breathe, is that Meiling is the biggest here in all respects; I was singing my master's praises ten minutes ago, but even one of these is thicker and longer by a margin I wouldn't discount. She isn't even ravaging them properly, it's mostly that even a shallow thrust stretches them a bit past what I'd estimate their limit is.
She's looks very intently focused on her work, but evidently not so focused she can't turn to look at me and offer a glittering smile. “Koa! Patchy not have you fetching an entire shelf's worth of books today?” Her voice is as light as her eyes would suggest it is, the polar opposite of how my master tends to regard me.
I lean against the gate with my hands behind my head, letting out a heavy breath. “Thankfully not, after yesterday. By the time I was done with the list she had for me when I woke up, I was already so tired I just went back to bed. Does she really read enough she needs it all in bulk?”
She chuckles as she delicately raises and lowers the fairies, who let out strained grunts and seem to be getting closer to tapping with every second. “You'd be surprised. She can get through those things impressively quick when she's really on a roll with her latest project.” One of the fairies starts clutching at her stomach, which I have to assume is pressed uncomfortably against three other organs at the moment, and Meiling pauses for a second to give her a look, receiving a very unconvincing little, 'Doing fine.' gesture.
“Are you entirely sure she can actually do anything quickly, even reading?” I counter, letting perhaps a bit more frustration tinge my question than I intended. “She looks like she has enough health conditions a stiff breeze could kill her by accident, and every single time that black-white witch has come, she's gotten her ass handed to her in the duel that followed.” I also enjoy that last remark just a little more than is strictly healthy in a master-servant relationship.
“If she couldn't, would you have half the work you do? I may not go into the library often, but I've seen how thick those tomes are. I'd need a month to get through one, and that's assuming all the magical jargon made any sense to me. And Marisa's... well, a bit of a special case, from what I've heard.” The other fairy, who isn't clutching her stomach, is kicking forward with extreme prejudice at this point. It looks more reflexive than anything. I have to wonder how much these girls are getting out of this, because they're forcing themselves really hard.
Processing sexual information is more autonomous than anything, so while that's running through my head, I'm going through the very short job of considering her words. Of course, I'm forced to sigh and concede the point. “Yeah. Carting them around probably wouldn't take half as long if each of them didn't weigh half a ton. What's so special about that other witch, then?”
Meiling gives pause when presented with this question, its answer evidently far from her lips. The fairies in her arms are both gritting their teeth rather violently by this point, despite the fact that the guard doesn't seem to have gone a centimeter deeper than prior, or sped up at all. I can practically feel them cracking under the strain. Might honestly need to help them, because it doesn't look like either side's gonna make it, at this rate. Before I can, though, the thoughtful humming I've been listening to is replaced by a somewhat sheepish answer, “I don't think I can really, properly explain it. There's a few different sides to it. You should just ask her yourself sometime; I think that'd be for the best.” She shuffles her grip on the fairies, careful not to let them slip and fall. Gravity would have a hard time fucking them any more thoroughly, but she doesn't risk it regardless. When she's got them situated, her hands are each atop a fairy's head, patting gently at their hair and assuring them they're doing a wonderful job. If it's helping, it's so subtly even I don't notice, and there's no appreciable difference between that and it doing nothing.
That's all running in the background while I slide down, letting my ass thud against the dirt road that leads to the rest of what civilization can be found here. My laugh is wry, almost closer to a bark than anything, and the bark is followed with a biting, “The way she acts most of the time, I don't think she'd be willing to explain it to me.”
I get a thoughtful nod, and it's not long after she suggests, “You've been sounding a little frustrated with her. Feel like letting it out?” Now, some might say that it would be rude to try and listen to someone's emotional baggage while you're in the middle of potentially saddling two midgets with their own by sticking your dicks in them – but I'd say it's far more rude to interrupt someone's good time. Even if the only hint these two are getting one is the near indiscernible scent of very feminine fluids dripping from them.
I hesitate a second, most of my temper showing of its own volition, but eventually figure I've yet to meet a better person to confide in since being summoned. “Yeah, actually, thanks. It's...” It's slightly more difficult to put this into words than I was expecting, now that I'm not just stewing. I've had aloof relationships with my masters before. I've had to deal with masters who practically starve me, even if they fuck me daily – yet I could probably survive off one round every two weeks with Patchouli. I'm basically free to do whatever I want as long as she's got her books, too. This is miles from the worst summoning I've ever had to deal with. What exactly -is- my problem?
The Chinese girl doesn't mind my trailing off at all, staying silent to let me collect my thoughts. Her fairy companions are slightly less so, and have started to foam at the mouth by now. It's reaching the point I'm more surprised Meiling is willing to keep going than that they are. Do they have some kind of safe word set up that they're not using? I have to assume as much, because there's few other explanations for what I'm watching that don't radically change what I know about this girl. Not that I'd term myself an expert on anyone here.
More pressingly, I'm doing a very poor job of piecing together the exact 'why' that makes this case so damnably infuriating. I'm as uncertain as I sound when I open my mouth again to speak. “She just... she doesn't seem like she even wants a succubus around. She's completely uninterested in me. It feels like she summoned me just because succubi are easy to keep a leash on; can't even be bothered to try in the once a week she's obligated to let me at her. Sort of...” I blink, and realize that Meiling isn't really showing any outward signs of arousal either. Face isn't flush, no sweat running down her body, breathing isn't heavy... if her cocks weren't hard enough to point skyward, I'd doubt she was in the mood at all. I've come to expect my master's brand of nonsense in the short while since coming here, it hadn't even registered as strange and wrong. “... Sort of like you right now, actually.” I finish up, when the revelatory moment passes.
Clearly, I either look or sound like I take great offense to this newly unearthed fact – which isn't terribly surprising, given I do – because if her hands weren't full, she'd probably be raising them in surrender as a gesture of peace. “Look at 'em,” she offers in defense of herself, presenting the duo as much as she can without pulling them off. I have been looking at them, this entire time, and they look like the bravest little troopers. I have to commend their can-do attitude; they might even do alright back home, if they weren't being mollycoddled to manage this much. “I just can't bring myself to really hurt 'em, y'know? Even this much kind of feels bad... I can't really get into it with the fairies.”
Now the moment's passed, I can feel my features softening from whatever accusatory grimace they'd settled into. “Sorry,” I say, hanging my head and shaking it. “Just still a little on edge from the last time with her a minute ago. No matter what I do, she barely looks at me, she barely reacts to me... I'd be okay with how infrequent it all is if she'd just... notice me, I guess? As it is, I might as well be using a highly realistic dildo, and it's just kinda... it hurts? And I don't like it, and that makes it worse, 'cause I've been saying we're getting a bit too soft back home for centuries now...” I don't quite mean to, but I end up gripping myself in the middle of this explanation, right about the part where it tends to hurt. Where that twisting, gnawing sensation bores into me relentlessly under the dispassionate lack of gaze from my master...
It's far more telling to Meiling than it is to me, apparently, because she looks to have her own moment of revelation while I'm explaining this. She cautiously ventures a question in the consequent silence of waiting to see if she'd like to share with the class. “So, I don't know a lot about succubi, but... that's about where your heart is, right?” She must be extremely focused on the conversation now, actually, as she's stopped even the bare hint of movement she had going on before, idling inside the fairies.
It strikes me as extremely strange, as that all registers. I'm not completely sure how we got from my problems to succubus anatomy, but I figure I'll humor her, since she's listening to me. “Usually. It's a little chaotic, in there. But when nothing's wrong, that's about where it's located. Why?” I lean forward a bit as I inquire this, admittedly curious as to where she's going with this.
She's much more confident, following up quickly after me, like she's sure she's on a roll. “And succubi don't normally feel this way about their masters, right? Have you ever felt like this before? It doesn't really sound like you have.” I think she should have paused when she wasn't inserted quite as much – as it stands, they basically have to idle at the apex, enduring splitting apart as I'm questioned on the habits of my species. I can see the veins in their necks bulging quite prominently at the moment, and I have to wonder if the strain of it all isn't going to give them some kind of aneurysm or stroke.
Now, the questions have to have some kind of point, I'm figuring, so I keep answering frankly enough. “Well, no. That's the worst part of it, I think. I've lost count of how many raw deals I've gotten when I was summoned, but none of them made me feel like this and plenty of them were worse. I've wanted to burn my masters alive, or flay their skin; I've managed to drag half a dozen souls back home because the contracts weren't airtight – not pretty, let me tell you – and yet... I don't want to do any of that here. Even though I hate it, it doesn't make me want to scour every clause and find... something, anything to abuse.” The questions are certainly helping me focus my thoughts. I'm starting to get a little closer to the root of it, I feel. I'm beginning to understand that 'why' that was eluding me just now. Or, at least, I thought I was. I don't actually like that grin that she's wearing.
I don't like those stifled giggles, either. It's not even at the fate of those unfortunate summoners, and she's doing an excellent job of making me think she's just jerking me around. Before I can call her out on it, she finally says, all but radiant with mirth, “Wow, I really did learn something about succubi today. I thought you guys were all lust and no love, but it sounds like you're in love with her.” I'm not sure if the fairies' gasps are those of pain or those of surprise, but they're croaked out with great effort, whichever the case may be.
I do not gasp, though. I don't make a sound, or do more than stare at her blankly. She's strung together words, and they even go in an order I recognize and can interpret, yet I still hear gobbledegook. My mouth opens, then it closes, and I spend several more seconds trying to make sense of what she's just said before I ask, utterly baffled, “What? I think I didn't hear you, could you repeat that?”
She about doubles over in laughter at my response, which I'd be mad about if I weren't overwhelmed by confusion. I think it's for the best that doing so means she accidentally drops the fairies; if she hadn't, I estimate she'd get them to about their esophagi, and she might feel bad about that one. Even if they want to protest their new position in the dirt, they don't seem to be able to get up to manage it, so it looks like they're going to be spared. Also probably for the best: I haven't personally observed Meiling's orgasms, but I take it those beauties are not for show. Wiping a tear from her eye, she hastily stands back up, offering a quick and sincere, “Sorry, sorry.” Exhaling, she looks me in the eyes, and says, plainly and slowly, “You're in love with Patchouli, Koa – unless I've gotten really bad at this in the last few years.”
The retelling of this doesn't actually make more sense than the original. I try repeating it myself, instead, in the hopes it will be in a language I've learned at some point in my life. “I'm... in love with Patchouli?” Huh, no, that really is just nonsense, isn't it? Utter bullshit, means nothing. Maybe if I restructure it a bit, add a few extra words to bridge the gaps? “I... am in love with Patchouli's cock. It's large, and it cums buckets, and I just wish she'd want to give me it.” Yeah, there we go. Now there's a statement that I can claim is wholly truthful and which settles nicely on the brain. It seems my conversational partner disagrees, though.
“Close. Very close.” She's definitely having fun with this, at this point. She takes a second to sling the barely conscious fairies over her shoulders while she congratulates me in a tone I don't exactly appreciate. “But no. You love Patchouli herself. The girl. Not her dick. Not her spunk. Her. You might even be head over heels. Don't know how that works where you come from, but it looks utterly cute, where I come from.” She has to be laughing at me, I find it impossible to believe she's not.
And yet, the more time I've had to tumble it over in my head, the more it does sink in. The stories I've heard when called somewhere more mortal... The sarcastically told tales I've heard from my kin back home... The things I've tasted in so many of the loads I took in the past... Was that... is this... love? I'm given more time to stare at Meiling, dumbstruck, while the gears turn up above. “I'm in love with Patchouli?” That sounds like an actual sentence, now, so I say it again. “I'm in love with Patchouli.” More confidence builds inside my voice as I stand, resolute. “I'm in love with Patchouli!” I declare, punching my fist at the sky, emboldened by this development. I have pinned down this elusive, thrice-damned feeling! I understand it! I know it! I know what to- I... fuck me I have no idea what to do with this knowledge.
My Chinese wisdom dispenser looked so happy for me, too, but she doesn't seem to like whatever face I'm making now that reality's slapped me back down again. She comes over and puts a hand on my shoulder, bearing a serious expression that's rather rare, to my knowledge. She insists, very strongly, “It's alright. Don't worry. You know, now. That's a huge step forward for you, trust me. It might not seem easy, and you might hurt a lot more before you can make it feel better, but... you can do something about it, now.” The smile she offers when she's done speaking is a source of light all its own, and I have to admit – she definitely hasn't gotten bad at this. She's actually really, really good at it.
I smile back after letting out a few deep breaths. This is... new territory. New territory's gotten very rare, as time has gone on. I wasn't sure there was any left, but it seems like I've blundered into a massive chunk of it. “Thanks, Meiling. I definitely owe you one.”
“Don't mention it. Just glad I could help. So, now that you know: what're you gonna do?” Well, it's a good question she's got there. There's a world of possibilities for what to do with this, or just to take my mind off it and calm down. I think...
[ ] “I think I really do owe you. Watching you with those fairies was agonizing. Please, for your sake and mine, let me help you out instead; you can get as into it as you want with me, promise.”
[ ] “I think I really do owe you. Those fairies really weren't helping, it looked like. I am a succubus, in love or not; let me do something about that.”
[ ] “I think this is a lot to think on. I might need to go introspect for the first time in... shit, has it really been two centuries?”
[ ] “I think that if I'm being honest with myself, I don't know the first thing about love. 'I love you.' doesn't even mean anything to me at this point, I've heard it so many times. There's gotta be something on love in the library I could look for, right?”
[ ] “I think I'm gonna go tell her how I feel, right now. That's something you do at times like this, right? Maybe if I explain it, she'll come around.”
[ ] “I think THP is way better at coming up with voting options than the author is, so I'm gonna ask them for a second opinion.” (Write-in)