[R18] Chains for Master

Rykard looked around to find the gift. He spotted it fairly quickly, as it had just been dropped off right by the door. Furrowing his eyebrows, he looked at the couple of large crates that had been piled up. "Food?" he thought out loud and approached. He lifted the lid off one of them and did indeed find a pile of exotic fruits in there. "Well, that's nice enough… even if there's no way I can eat all of this before it rots."

He went through the crates until…

…a face looked back at him.

Rykard, for the first time in a long time, stopped and felt confused. Calm green eyes gazed into his. The lids surrounding them gave them a distinct shape, vaguely reminiscent of almonds. That, in addition to the soft roundness of her features, identified her as someone from the eastern territories of the empire.

Of course, Rykard knew that face. He knew it very well. He knew her adorable button of a nose and those plush pink lips. He knew the large fox ears that extended from her hair, as crimson as the cascading length of her strands. All the way down to her butt, where a singular, fluffy tail was attached to her hips. It wrapped around her narrow midriff, hiding much of her thighs.

"Can you make room, Rykard?" the fox-eared redhead asked.

"Why, yes, certainly," he responded, still a bit flabbergasted, and backed away from the crate. The kitsune grabbed the edge of the crate and climbed out. Once she stood tall, her single tail magically unfolded. One by one, it grew in number, until she had as many as the surrounding mountain range had corners.

She stretched, her face still completely calm. The fabric of her travelling dress stretched over her balanced figure - particularly the rather large breasts. Rykard's eyes were immediately drawn down, then back up when she let out a small sigh. "What are you doing here?" he asked.

"Is that how you greet your fiance?" the kitsune asked, tilting her head with the mildest sign of annoyance.

"You know the engagement was cancelled."

"I disagree," she responded simply, much to Rykard's amusement. When he laughed, a smile played around the corners of her lips for a moment. "It was easy to fool your brother. Not so easy to sneak out of my house."

"What am I going to do with you?" Rykard shook his head. "There'll be a scandal once we leave this estate."

"Like you ever cared about scandals," the redhead hummed and gestured seductively in the region of her nethers. "Like either of us ever cared."

"I suppose you got me there," Rykard surrendered and bowed down towards her neck. She was just a bit shorter than him, so he didn't have to lower his head much. She smelled of sweet fruits, least of all because she had been in a shipment of them recently. "I did miss you…"

"...Miyo." Rykard brushed over her fluffy ears as he straightened back up. Little hairs tickled his palm. She stretched her back to stay in contact with his hand a little while longer. When he did let go, she returned to her usual, serene expression. "Still, what were you thinking?"

"Something along the lines of: 'this man is too interesting to take the chance that he escapes me'," the kitsune responded sincerely. She hopped onto one of the unopened crates, grabbed an orange from one that was very much open, and began to peel it. Her gaze was directed towards the cloudless blue sky. "A miniscule chance, but a chance nonetheless."

"I suppose this is the part where I apologise for leaving you behind?" Rykard suggested.

Miyo just hummed, twice patting the spot on the crate next to her. Taking the invite, he walked over. Once seated, she continued. "You never got my answer," she began.

"Indeed I did not," he responded. Last they had seen each other, Rykard had confessed to a desire to have more than one woman. He had made it very clear at the time that he wasn't going to take no for an answer. "The very fact that you're here tells me everything I need to know, doesn't it?"

"I suppose this is the part where I explain why I came to the conclusion to let you have your little harem." Miyo pulled a slice out of the peeled orange and put it against Rykard's lips. He bit. She smiled. "Or a not so little one, if we play our cards correctly."

"We?" Rykard had a growing smile on his lips.

"I did wrestle with it. The question of if I could share you. Then I realised you're thrice the man I'd need you to be to tolerate that." The redhead took another slice and held it between her slender fingers for a moment. "Rather you and many other women, than one of your boorish brothers. Besides… I did enjoy the times you convinced servant girls to join us." Miyo devoured the slice. The orange juice made her lips glisten. "You'll find me many an attractive sister in lust, I'm sure."

"Glad we're on the same page." Rykard leaned over and put a hand on the side of her face. Gently he turned her towards him. As always, those green eyes reflected a collected spirit. There was nothing hasty or reluctant about her decision. Miyo did not create half-baked plans. "What do you expect in return - besides many an orgy?"

"Acknowledgement of who I am," the kitsune declared, her answer well-prepared. "A king needs a queen, does he not? How does a harem queen sound to you?"

"Acceptable. Provided, I do not intend to make a bid for the imperial throne."

Miyo made a tossing gesture. "A den of vipers is not a worthy place for us to rule. No, I put my hopes in the miniscule chance." She stopped for a moment to eat another slice of orange. "It gets complicated, if that fails."

Rykard had no doubt she had planned for the highly likely eventuality. Not worrying about that until it came to pass, he instead decided to lean in and taste the orange on her lips. The fruity taste was a mere preamble to the sweetness of her mouth. The moment their lips touched, her tongue extended to meet his.

A soft thud betrayed the rest of the orange hitting the grass. Both of Miyo's hands gripped his shirt, refusing to even give him the option of pulling back. Refusing to be outdone, he sunk his fingers into the red mane at the back of her head. Possessively, he pulled her in, until her breasts squished softly against his chest.

Miyo let out a heated moan. It was the first of many little gasps and sighs. Wet smacks of their lips accompanied every motion. The hands on his chest relaxed. His grip only grew more demanding. He could feel the heat radiating from her pale face. The brilliance of her emerald eyes was dulled by a haze of lust.

On his terms, they separated. It happened so suddenly, Miyo's tongue remained extended for several seconds. When she realised she was sitting there like a panting fox, she straightened up and forced her expression back to the usual calm. "I definitely made the right choice," she thought out loud, for him to hear.

"You would have been the sole person I truly missed," Rykard told her, with all of the sincerity he could muster. A blush rose on her feminine features, a true little smile blossomed, and she wiggled towards him until their thighs touched.

"Provided we do get chosen," Miyo whispered. "What exactly is your goal for your new realm? Besides assembling a large harem for us to enjoy?"

"A nation for every worthy man to get himself a harem," Rykard responded. Miyo managed to raise a hand in front of her mouth, before she started chuckling. "A base goal? Yes," he entertained her. "But why not? Why not make a place in the universe for men like me and good girls like you?"

Miyo took a deep breath at the little compliment. There was history to those two words, all of it happening in the bedroom, much of it involving her with her top down and bottom up. Rubbing her thighs together, the kitsune stared at the bulge in his pants. "Why not indeed?" she surrendered the point, then chuckled. "Yes… yes, why not? Hmmm… that sounds like a lovely goal. A world to create truly worthy men. The gods must know there's a dire lack of them." The flash of excitement was smothered by the ever-thinking redhead turning inwards. "We would require a way to ensure the numbers stay unbalanced… the nation would inevitably destabilise if we have a small number of men with harems and a large number of lonely guys…"

Rykard chuckled and entertained himself by touching her body in the purest way possible. Moving one of her waving tails into his lap, he combed through the red fur with long motions. He glanced upwards for a moment. The sun was approaching its highest point. When it stood in the middle of the sky, the ritual would either happen or they would, in all likelihood, be left with the mess of 'robbing' a vassal kingdom of their eldest daughter.

Since Miyo was still busy formulating the plan on creating the perfect harem nation, Rykard decided to also turn inwards. Focusing his magic, he wove a little spell he had created a few years back. It let him manifest illusionary little windows that gave him a peek at his current abilities. Not entirely accurate, but always fun to keep track of regardless. Either by happenstance or because the gods of this universe were oddly fascinated by hexagons, each of the six windows had six categories.

Above everything, Rykard was proud of his Presence. Sure, his Intuition and Diplomacy were good too (when he wanted to be diplomatic), but it was his body language that got across what he wanted to, most of the time. Something he had carefully cultivated. Using his physical power to back up his words was delightfully effective - especially when targeting the kind of women he was into.

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The prolonged isolation his family had put him through had forced him to master his will thrice over. Once to continue the training regimen that delivered him from boredom. Twice to continue increasing his magical power. Thrice, because he needed both physical and magical might to survive the various assassination attempts he went through over the years.

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Poison was the weapon of choice of many of his siblings, but he had wisened up to those attempts very early. Since then, the constant training of his body had made him quite the enduring fellow. Where others were left breathing heavily, trying to recover for minutes on end, he recovered swiftly and was ready for more.

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Conjuration was ever the most useful magic. Alteration was nice to have. At the wave of one's hand, the world changed and clothes hovered. Neat tricks that made the day easier. Restoration made sure potentially fatal mistakes were made merely annoying and that scars were not constant blemishes. Conjuration, however, provided servants that could make the levitation unnecessary and that could take the injuries in one's stead. All around a nice skill to have. Also, for reasons of deliberate learning, hilariously debauched things happened with increased frequency when he used summoning spells.

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Rykard's favourite Hexagon - the representation of his sexual abilities. From the day of his sexual awakening, he had known he wanted to be in charge. This went doubly so for the bedroom. To have gorgeous women call him 'Master' and be driven mad with lust by all he deemed to do to them… it was a fine art and a splendid lifestyle, provided the right women were found.

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The capacity to create was the capacity to be prepared. As a royal, Rykard had studied architecture extensively. It was expected of most members of the dynasty to be capable enough to design their own summer residence. Enchantment was a more personalised endeavour of his. It paid to have bedsheets that strangled snakes. Above all, however, Alchemy had been his labour of love. To sculpt flesh like clay was… interesting. It tickled certain parts of his brain that were also engaged when he dominated in the bedroom. Although he was not confident enough to cross those two wires. Not yet.

"Just how high could I go if I had excuses to keep challenging myself?" Rykard wondered.

"You'll find out," Miyo whispered.

Her tone was quiet, disbelieving, and that was all Rykard needed to look up from his conjured windows and follow her gaze. Up in the sky, the sun had reached its zenith. The burning of the daystar, which normally should have made his retina sear, was inexplicably bearable. A great circle surrounded it, confining the rays into a solid sphere. There was no sun anymore, just one solid orb.

Rykard couldn't help but laugh, and Miyo couldn't help but join. Circle upon concentric circle layered around the once-sun. Runes of divine gold and purple inscribed themselves upon the pale blue sky. A hum filled the air that was far above any spell a mortal could cast.

The pull was immense. It was inconceivable. Both he and Miyo rose slightly off the crate. Gravity became suspended and the sky dimmed to an endless black. All of what was around them was taken stock of, analysed for its value.

In the great game of a new world, the gods balanced the scales. Each of the ten contenders were equipped with resources that would match one another. Manpower, developed land, technological prowess, all of that was taken into account, all of it was going to be copied one for one into the new world. Only the people in the Hexagon would be whisked away completely.

Rykard glanced at Miyo. For her attractiveness, she was not particularly powerful. He glanced at the mansion. For all of its splendour it offered very little in terms of actual usefulness. He glanced at the hilly plain. For all of its gorgeousness, it was undeveloped and offered few resources.

The only object of true value here was him.

'Am I going to face 9 monsters like me or are the gods weighing my power up against entire realms worth of offerings?' Rykard wondered.

The question went unanswered. The ritual concluded. Gravity reasserted itself. He and Miyo dropped the ten centimetres they had risen. They looked at each other for one moment. Then he scooped her up and started running. Miyo squeaked once, surprised by the sudden acceleration. Between his physical prowess and a little bit of Alteration, he was soon skipping along the land quicker than his brother's carriage had.

The runes in the sky ebbed away, leaving it a permanent midnight blue, with a golden sphere for a sun. The light levels were the same, but they were decisively elsewhere now.

The final proof of that lay beyond the valley. Where once the empire's hills would have sprawled as far as the eye could see, there was now a grid. An endless, expansive grid of fundamental stone, hovering above groundwater without ground to be seeped into. Each empty slot had room for a Hexagon that could take days to travel on foot. The Exile Hexagons, in the worlds unchosen.

"This grid is for you to fill," Miyo stated, half amazed, half baffled. The true scale of it all became apparent only now.

Rykard slowly nodded, a huge grin on his face. He could feel it in his head, the tingle of the gods listening. A single phrase and the gods would copy an Exile Hexagon like they had done with his Competitor's Hexagon. The only limitations to this were that the phrase could not be more than 10 words and that he could not make a new request while the last Hexagon had not joined his domain.

The gods wouldn't present him with additions that were simply claimed either. That would bore them and no one wanted bored gods.

"Although I am not completely alone," he corrected her and focused on that tingle in his head. Rather than conjure a Hexagon, he requested an image of the world as it was right now.

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His tile had ended up, for better or for worse, quite far away from everyone else. This map, too, would only update after each of his conquests had concluded. Only when he himself had advanced, would he get an update on how everyone else was doing. Only when he returned to his Hexagon of origin, could he summon the next one.

"I can't believe it!" he laughed out into the finite void. "We're free, Miyo! We're free!"

"Yes!" the usually so calm woman exclaimed and pressed her lips on his cheek. It was a chaste beginning to a deep, victorious make-out session that only ended when she pulled back. "We shouldn't linger though," her reason cut back through. "Time is power. You should begin with your conquests immediately. The more time you waste, the less of this world will be shaped by you - even if you conquer all of it ultimately."

Rykard hummed. She was right. She typically was. There was a hunger in him though that desired to be sated. Plus, he had to come up with a name for his domain.