Arc 2 β Slaves of the Arch-Slime 4.4 (Finale) π
Itβs always dark in the Hollow, but the night time can be felt by a light reduction in fighting activities and by a sparser presence of adventurers and monster-hunters. They are heading back to the surface to spend their gains and to share their bounties, while in the ancient cave system most can draw a breath of relief.
At least for today, they are safe from a killing blow or a cursing spell.
Amuira is among the luckiest - she can enjoy peace and start to create a little realm for herself, drawing more adventurers to convert. She lays on her bed, watching her last two additions dancing for her pleasure. Rena and Nana show off their voluptuous bodies, dressed in dancer garbs that highlight their soft curves and their glassy looks. She has made sure to empty their silly little heads of anything that isnβt obedience and pleasure and need. Just the way she likes them.
And as she chuckles lightly at how good life has been good for her, she feels a faint prickle in her back.
βWhatβ¦ ah.β Amuira sits on her back, forgetting all about the pretty dancers for the moment. She reaches for her back with her tentacles. Her mark is aching. Glowing with a faint grey light that seems to erase every other color in the room. The two figures of the dancers slow down to a crawl as the darkness rises to cover everything.
A bright cone of white light descends right in front of her, cutting the blackness in two. Thin strands of light, like spiderweb, glisten all the way through it. Bit by bit, something, someone descends from above to sit on the strands.
Amuira lowers her head.
βI did not expect you,β she whispers.
βCustomer satisfaction is really important to me,β an amused voice says. Amuira couldnβt ever place it: it sounds like a self-assured, confident woman and at the same time as a playful girl eager for one more game. βI assume you are enjoying your gift. Judging from those two.β
βAbsolutely.β She still doesnβt try to lift her gaze. Her tentacles shiver, but she keeps them in line.
βThat is good news. We shall meet again when your time is due.β
A shiver runs through her once again, and this time she cannot stop it.
She knows what the Morningstar means.
βYes.β
The darkness fades.
The two dancers go back to their usual speed, and the choking air lifts.
Sheβs once again back in the Hollow, with her prized sex-slaves, and her Mark does not ache anymore.
She has a few decades to enjoy it yet.
Amuira chuckles nervously and licks her lips.
She snaps her fingers - Rena and Nana smile and reach for her, embracing her and starting to place kisses all over her sensitive skin.
One day, the Morningstar will come to collect.
She has a lot of ground to cover for the next sixty years.