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Chapter Text

Hours after her loss to Sophara, Mercy prepared to turn in for the night.

Lindon and Yerin had been escorted away hours earlier by unwaveringly polite but insistent Ninecloud guards, leaving her alone with her thoughts.

Losing and leaving her faction with only Yerin in the top four had hit hard, but her friends' efforts to smooth it over hadn't been entirely unsuccessful.

She might even be able to catch some sleep that night. That is, if she got just a little bit of help.

Mercy put away her hairbrush and retrieved her sex toy.

It was just a Gold-level instrument, and toys like it really were rather common. Life madra could give pleasure, and dream madra could bring fantasies to life. Combining the two for sexual bliss was a technique as old as time.

There were entire paths which focused on little else. But it was not like she had a sacred artist with those skills on hand. Or any partner, for that matter.

She had had a few shorter encounters since the end of her relationship with Harmony. But none had really scratched her particular itch, and not even Harmony had really gotten the full story from her. She'd never really trusted him to understand.

What she really desired wasn't exactly something she could go out and tell just anyone. If she told people what she wanted them to do to her, most of them would probably guess she was trying to bait them into incurring Mother's wrath.

When it came to that, she would prefer to remain discreet. She really was pretty happy with her saucier books, her instrument, and her few other toys for now. All she had to do was to place the instrument over her core, feed it some of her own madra, and it would take her through any fantasy. Most importantly, it would do so without her ever having to explain herself to anyone. The instrument didn't judge or ask questions.

She called the instrument Buzzy. Something that made her feel so nice should have a nice name.

It looked like nothing so much as a regular egg, white against the black of her Goldsign-covered hand.

The day had been unusual, but preparing for bed with Buzzy was routine. She turned off the lights, slipped under the covers, and cradled Buzzy against her abdomen on top of her nightgown.

By feeding it the tiniest trickle of madra, Buzzy sprang to life without a sound, spreading a gentle pulse across her lower body. It wasn't going to do anything dramatic just yet, but turning it on already felt a bit like the world's best goosebumps. They spread over her skin, preparing her for what was to come.

She let her mind drift as the instrument began its work.

And her mind found... Lindon.

It was not an entirely welcome thought. He was just a friend, and she knew he and Yerin were finally going to take the step towards a real relationship any day now. Not that the two of them seemed to be very aware of it.

Lindon was, for all intents and purposes, taken. Mercy definitely didn't want to go there. Did she?

Buzzy apparently did not care about that dilemma at all.

Lindon's face was conjured up behind Mercy's closed eyes, the details enhanced by dream madra. He might as well have been right in front of her.

The Lord transformation really had done great things for his face. Where before he had just looked like the most brutish son of a wilderness clan leader, his appearance was now... refined. Now he looked more like the prince a wilderness clan leader wouldn't want near his unmarried daughter.

Mercy's mind was pulled away from Lindon's face and towards his hands. She knew they were precise enough for Soulsmithing, strong enough to crush skulls.

And if he wanted, those hands were also deft and strong enough to hold her down while toying with her, she thought as another wave of goosebumps washed over her.

Not that she had any reason to think he wanted to do anything of the sort.

But what if he did?

He had been with her just earlier today, comforting her after her loss, holding her in his arms.

Strong, gentle. Implacable. And so tall.

He was just a friend trying to make her feel better. She had pulled away from his embrace and asked how Yerin was holding up. It had been the right thing to do.

But what if Yerin was not in the picture at all?

Pushing aside most of her guilt and blaming Buzzy for the rest, a scene started to unfold in Mercy's mind.

***

Lindon held Mercy tight as her tears dried, his arms wrapped around her. Their identical, dark Akura robes made it difficult to see where one robe ended and the other began, the outlines blurred in the candlelight.

The moment was tender, full of potential. And Mercy knew what she wanted.

"There is something you can do for me," she said once she had collected herself to the point where the signs of her crying weren't visible any more.

"Anything," said Lindon.

And he meant it, too. Lindon would move mountains for her, and apologize for it taking too long.

"I don't want to be alone right now."

"Of course, I'll stay as long as you would like." Not as long as the Ninecloud court would let him. He would find a way to stay for as long as she needed him to.

"Do you want to discuss the fight?" He said. "You were amazing out there. I was proud of my own battle earlier, but you are... incredible, Mercy."

Mercy had something different in mind.

She softened her own grip on him, and smiled. "Tonight, I need someone who thinks I'm incredible just as myself, not as a sacred artist."

Confusion and uncertainty spread across Lindon's face, as it usually did when the conversation drifted away from the sacred arts.

"I want someone who desires me as myself," she said, and looked straight into his eyes, dark meeting violet. "I need to feel wanted."

"Ah. I finally understand." was all he said.

Then he gingerly bent down to kiss her, giving Mercy plenty of time to object.

She did not object in the least. Their tongues met slowly, barely brushing up against each other as they savored the moment.

Buzzy gave another pulse, now one of warmth, rather than just the goosebumps from earlier.

"Apologies. I did not know. I would have acted sooner," Lindon whispered softly.

Mercy loved the idea of Lindon doting on her, but his words still felt off. This was probably exactly what he would do, but as much as Mercy liked the apologetic, humble Lindon, and even the droopy-faced pouty Lindon who didn't recognize his own accomplishments, neither of those Lindons were the ones she was looking for tonight.

She wanted the Lindon she had seen in the arena, the one fired up to win, with his jaw set and his stare indomitable.

The one who, once he had gotten over his hangups and made sure she was on board, would simply take her if he desired her.

Mercy shifted focus, re-sculpting the image in her mind.

Lindon's stance shifted. The gentleness disappeared from in his eyes as if had never been there, replaced with the black and red of Blackflame.

It was the deep, hungry look he'd give her right before absolutely ravaging her.

Something in Mercy's spirit pulled tight. It might have been excitement, it might have been a sense of danger.

Probably both.

"I'm an Underlady. You don't have to hold back," she said. "You won't break me."

The wall behind her shook as if it would break, though, as Lindon slammed her against it, causing the flames to dance dangerously in the candleholder above their heads for a moment.

His mouth found hers and he kissed her fiercely, savagely. Starting with the lips, moving down the neck, stopping just above her collarbone.

She gave a token push against his grip, but her heart wasn't in it and they both knew it. His face was smoothly shaved, but it still felt hard as he kissed every bit of her exposed neck.

Outside the scene, in an increasingly irrelevant reality, Buzzy began pulsing in earnest. The wisps of life and dream madra it emitted grew more solid, and Mercy welcomed them eagerly into her mind.

Lindon drew himself away, his gaze still just as intense. He intended to have her, she would love it, and there was nothing in the world or the heavens that could stop it.

Mercy's outer robes suddenly fell loose.

And she noticed that Lindon was holding something that looked like a black, soft cloth belt. Exactly like the kind of belt that held her outer robes together.

Somehow, he had undone the knots with his one human hand without her noticing, while maintaining the kiss.

The man's ability to multitask really wasn't fair.

Slinging Mercy's belt over his shoulder, he moved back in to continue the job.

He started kissing her again, sucking her lower lip into his mouth, their breaths hot as they mixed together.

Meanwhile, his hand went looking for more knots of her robes to untie.

Mercy was quick to help him along. Akura robes had layers, and she wanted absolutely none of them between their bodies.

She stood naked before him in moments, her bare back and butt brushing against the hard stone. It wasn't exactly comfortable, but it felt right.

She felt slightly self-conscious for a moment, standing like that while he was still fully dressed.

The feelings evaporated quickly when Lindon rumbled in appreciation, tracing his fingers up her side, across her shoulder, and down her arm to the point where skin met her Goldsign.

"Your body is amazing, Mercy," Lindon whispered in her ear, the edge of Blackflame still in it. He wasn't speaking like a fascinated boy, but like a Lord stating his approval. "I will explore it, and I want to make sure you stay in one place while I do it. Would you like that?"

He was still holding the belt of her outer robe, and Mercy immediately understood what he meant. Or at least she desperately hoped she did.

She held out her arms for him, wrists crossed with her palms down.

"You'll need to make it tight," Mercy breathed. "My Goldsigns are slippery."

Lindon looped the soft belt around her wrists, fastening it with a simple knot.

Mercy's heart felt like it was going to jump out of her chest when Lindon's arms flexed to draw the knot wonderfully tight, tying her wrists together.

But he wasn't done.

He reached up to the candleholder above them, gently removed the candle and put it to the side, and tested how well the holder was fastened to the wall with a quick pull.

Apparently satisfied, he threw the remainder of the rope over it, and pulled the other end down again. Mercy's arms were drawn upwards until they were fully extended above her head.

Lindon kept pulling her up by the arms, not stopping until she was standing tip-toe, her whole body stretched.

Only then did he stop pulling, and tied off the rope.

It should have been uncomfortable, and as tight as the rope was it could even be dangerous.

But Mercy was an Underlady with a Puppeteer's Iron Body. She could safely stand like this all night. If he wanted her to.

"Do you like being stuck like this, Mercy?" Lindon murmured in her ear. "Would you like me to keep exploring?"

"Yes, please," she begged. Being this helpless before someone trustworthy was literally a dream come true.

She was only tied up with a belt, but even with the strength of her body she would never be able to burst it. She had no leverage. She was just pulled tout like a string, waiting for whatever it was that Lindon had in store for her.

She could of course stop this at any moment by stopping the madra flow to Buzzy, but that thought was distant behind the increasingly dense cloud of dream and life madra she had purposefully drawn in.

In her dream, Lindon kept to his word, and started his exploration.

Callused fingers of his human hand slid across her shoulders and the nape of her neck, and started moving down.

Mercy had seen this coldly appreciative look on him before, when he was sorting through valuables on a battlefield. Happy with what he found, but as always, hoping for greater treasures still.

Mercy closed her eyes and just hoped he would continue searching. She was getting wet, and his hand was still so far away from where she really wanted it to be.

So unfair.

Lindon's first find was her breast, which felt small as he cupped it in his palm, running his thumb over her nipple.

He started kissing her again as he did so, and she felt more than heard his satisfied grunts.

Then, without warning, his grip subtly switched, and he began rolling the nipple between thumb and forefinger. And not gently.

In the real world, him doing this even with a fraction of his strength would still have hurt.

But in the fantasy world created through Buzzy, pain did not exist, only pleasure. And this pleasure was rising from mere warmth towards something more.

A pulse from buzzy, far more powerful than the previous ones spread through her body, radiated from the nipple held by Lindon.

Experiencing pleasure where she should have felt pain was an impossible, jarring feeling. Some part of her mind said that this should hurt a bit, and that Buzzy just wasn't letting her feel everything this scene had to offer.

But what she did feel was intoxicating. Mercy basked in it, and moaned. They were still kissing, so she moaned right into Lindon's mouth, and she successfully suppressed a giggle.

She did not manage to hold back her wide-mouthed smile, reducing the kiss to mostly him running his tongue over her teeth.

That was a feeling funny enough to make her break out into a laugh.

Laughing felt inappropriate when about to fuck someone, but it also wasn't. She felt like she should be taking this more seriously, but how could she not smile and laugh when she was enjoying herself?

And Lindon seemed to be getting what he wanted anyway.

"Gratitude," Lindon growled softly as he finally pulled away. "I liked that reaction. With your permission, I will take more."

He reached for the candle he had set aside earlier, holding it between their faces.

The flame reflected easily in the dark of his eyes.

"Stick out your chest," he commanded.

Mercy was nearly drawn taut, half-hanging as she was, but she did her best to comply. Because again, she knew what he wanted.

Never taking his eyes off hers, Lindon tilted the candle, spilling hot, white wax over her right breast.

Mercy's face again scrunched into a full-teeth smile. A half-gasp, half-squeal forced its way past her teeth as hot, sharp pleasure lanced through her breast.

Buzzy couldn't satisfy her curiosity when it came to experiencing this sort of pain. But oh, could it do other kinds of wonders.

"Fascinating," Lindon said, and poured the rest of the wax over her other breast.

Mercy trashed around, tried to tap her feet, and laughed openly as another, larger line of fiery pleasure ran over her breast and right nipple.

"I will have to bring more restraints next time," Lindon murmured, looking at her wriggling feet. "But it's time to move on."

He put down the candle, and placed his hand low on her abdomen, fixing her in his dark, hungry stare as he did so.

His hunger hit Mercy's own like oil on fire.

Lindon's hand slowly slid down. Mercy struggled to spread her feet as wide as she could to invite him in, again thankful that her Iron Body allowed her to keep her balance like this.

His middle finger slid down just a bit too slowly. But he made it past her tuft of hair, and finally, finally reached the place where she really wanted him.

Mercy moaned and Lindon grinned savagely as he found what he was looking for.

Pausing only to gather moisture right from her slit, Lindon started circling her clit with his index finger.

The waves from Buzzy finally started coming in tune, faster and harder by the second. Mercy's breathing fell into the same rhythm.

Lindon was still robed, which he really had no right to be. She wanted to rip off his clothes, run her hands across his body, get his cock inside her.

But she was completely, gloriously tied up, and could do none of that.

And she wanted more of his finger. Lindon was still rubbing her tantalizingly slowly and lightly. Minutes passed by as he circled her clit with just one finger, and her pleasure built, coming to the teetering edge of orgasm.

But not quite there. It was incredible, but it wouldn't be enough. Not like this.

"Harder." Mercy whispered.

Lindon's answer was immediate. "Apologies, but I like you right where you are."

Mercy's eyes went wide with surprise. She could hardly move perched as she was, and she would not be able to cum like this. And her need was mounting by the second.

"Harder... please?"

He said nothing, and changed nothing. She was truly helpless. Not even begging had worked.

Mercy bit her lower lip as waves of pleasure combined into a maddening, rising hum. It built like pressure in her body, but refusing to explode.

Why was Buzzy treating her like this? In the real world, Mercy desperately funneled more madra into the instrument, but she knew that wasn't how it worked. It had never taken this long before, but Buzzy would take her there eventually.

Buzzy would take her there eventually, right?

In her mind, Mercy squirmed, she moaned, she begged. Lindon soaked it up, as if harvesting the aura of her lust. She started making promises to do things she hadn't done before, but felt right right then.

He switched fingers, he occasionally slipped inside of her, but always he kept her ruthlessly on edge. She was sopping wet, and there was nothing she could do with it.

She lost track of time. She may have been lost to the ecstasy of being kept on edge for minutes or an hour, she didn't care. She wanted it over right now, and she wanted it to last forever.

Suddenly, he removed his hand. Its absence felt cold and unpleasant.

"You are ready for more," Lindon said as he unfastened the belt from the candleholder. "Lie down."

She moved back to her bed in a half-daze, her arms feeling odd only partially stuck, and lay down on her back, legs apart.

It was exactly as she lay in the real world, and Mercy completely forgot which was which.

She watched in awe as Lindon finally pulled off his robes.

This was a man who spent all his hours training, and he had the muscles to show for it, rippling as he stripped down. His stomach looked hard, his chest had just the right amount of hair, and his hips were deliciously defined. She wanted to drop to her knees and trace that line with her tongue before moving on to take his cock in her mouth.

And his cock was already fully erect. She wasn't entirely sure at the moment if it was small or large. The only thing she cared about was that she wanted it.

He strode towards her as if on a mission, and placed his head between her legs.

"Don't interfere," was all Lindon said before his mouth dove towards her clit.

There was no teasing this time. Lindon just licked and ate her out like he intended to consume her whole. She couldn't discern any pattern or technique. He sucked her clit, nibbled on her labia, and fucked her with his tongue.

Her pleasure had not retreated far while he undressed and now it came back in full force, faster this time. Careful not to do anything that could possibly be interpreted as "interfering", she just clamped her eyes shut and pressed her tied hands hard against her chest, cracking the now-cold wax.

And Lindon continued eating her out as if nothing in the world could stop him.

Just like nothing in the world could contain Mercy's squeal as the long-awaited orgasm washed through her.

She barely noticed as Lindon moved, raising himself to his knees. Once she opened her eyes, she saw his face still wet with her juices, grinning victoriously. The implacable Lindon was gone, he had won his battle.

She did notice his movement when he, still upright and on his knees between her legs, placed his cock against her slit.

Mercy suddenly realized the only reason his cock hadn't looked very big was because Lindon was so big.

Now, even just barely touching her, it looked impossible. Where was it supposed to fit?

Lindon, of course, had no understanding of the word impossible. He thrust forward, and slowly but smoothly, he slid in his entire length as their open-mouthed groans filled the room in unison.

Mercy thought that should have hurt somehow. But the thought was fleeting. There was no pain in her world right then.

Lindon placed Mercy's ankles on his shoulders, held them in place with his arm, and leaning slightly forward, began to rock back and forth.

The pleasure started building again. Duller this time, less hot, but no less intense.

But apparently not as fast as Lindon's. Having pleasured her to his satisfaction, he now clearly sought his own.

His breaths began to come in heavy as his rocking motions turned to thrusts.

Mercy had been told not to "interfere", but she matched his rhythm. It clearly pleased him, as she could watch as Lindon lost himself in the feeling of fucking her.

The movements of his body were mesmerizing, his abs and thighs flexing with every thrust. And the thrusts became harder and harder as his orgasm built.

Even more than the feeling of being rammed by his cock, the knowledge that Lindon was enjoying himself this much struck some deep chord of satisfaction with Mercy. She wasn't sure she had known it was there.

She wanted him to take his pleasure from her, and she wanted to give it to him.

Fortunately, that seemed to be exactly what he was doing.

His thrusts became frantic, and she knew he was getting close. She kept matching his movements, hoping to bring him over the edge.

Not that she wanted this to stop, far from it. She just wanted to make him cum.

She didn't have to wait long. With one last thrust, Lindon pulled her legs hard against his body, pinning their hips together. He closed his eyes and his breath turned to rasps as she felt his orgasm rip loose. His body spasmed slightly as he let out an irregular moan, matched by jerks of his cock spurting somewhere deep, deep inside of her.

They stayed that way for a glorious moment, both breathing heavily, before he let her legs go and allowed himself to sink down on top of her.

She would have liked to hug him, but her hands were still tied. And now crushed between their bodies.

"That... was amazing," Mercy said at last.

That made Lindon rise up again.

"Was? I will not stop before you ask me to."

Mercy's eyes widened.

"I'm not done, Mercy. Flip over, and grab your ankles."

Mercy didn't hesitate to follow his instructions, and shuffled around to place her ass up and face down. She thought the move must look awkward, tied up as she was, but Lindon just stroked her appreciatively she adjusted herself, running his hand down her back and to her ass.

Where he promptly spanked her once, sending another impossible wave of pain-turned-to-pleasure through her body, making her give out a grunt of satisfaction, halfway muffled with her cheek pressed against the mattress.

"Do you like that, Mercy?"

Expressing herself with words felt complicated at that moment.

Instead, her response was just to nod and to arch her back, trying to stick out her ass, hoping he'd do it again.

He did, and Mercy's eyes rolled back as the sensations rolled through her again.

This time, Lindon didn't take his hand off her ass, just rubbing her pleasantly stinging ass cheek.

And slowly, his fingers started probing towards her clit again.

Once he found it, she wished she had something to bite on to as she cried out, but her hands were still tied, and her instructions to hold tight on to her ankles was still in effect.

So all she could do was to try to bury her face in the mattress and hope her sounds didn't put him off.

Her worries stopped quickly as her sounds only seemed to encourage him, his fingers started once again playing with her more firmly, running what felt like two fingertips in circles over her clit.

The pressure of another orgasm started building up in her again, quick and hard, just like Lindon's fingering. She was grateful for the mattress absorbing most of her moans.

His rubbing was relentless, and as steady as clockwork.

Mercy felt her entire body shaking as Lindon took another orgasm out of her as she screamed into the mattress, feet drumming against the bed despite her trying to hold them in place.

Parts of her sagged down as she relaxed, but Lindon's hand pulled her ass up again.

And his fingers kept up the rhythm without missing a beat.

Mercy's orgasm had left her not far from the edge of her next one, and she just tried her best to keep breathing and holding her ankles as Lindon did his work.

She did not even try to hold back her howl as the orgasm raged through her again. The mattress could take it.

Something in Mercy's mind told her her body should have been too sore and sensitive to continue, but she wasn't. Instead, as Lindon simply did not stop fingering, pleasure gradually stopped coming in waves. Instead it simply became continuous and intense, burning like a raging sun inside of her, consuming her world.

She became aware at some point that Lindon removed his hand and pressed his cock into her again, changing the tune of the fire, but not reducing it in the slightest. The spankings started again, and she registered it as just another feeling at the edge of her awareness, burned up by the intensity of what she was feeling, contributing to the inferno of her pleasure.

The mattress she was screaming into was wet and he throat was slightly sore as if she had been screaming for a while.

She didn't care. All she wanted to do was to follow the instructions.

Mercy didn't know how long it took, but she thought she had just crested past another orgasm when she felt her hands let go of her ankles, and just could not get herself to grab them again.

Her muscles didn't work properly. Her fingers just... flopped.

Her body limp, Mercy slid on to her side.

Lindon grabbed her to help her fall smoothly.

She had to spit a lock of hair out of her mouth before speaking. "T-t-thank you. I'm done. I'm done," she breathed.

Her eyes were closed, but she felt Lindon untie her hands and crawl up behind her, wrapping her in an embrace.

She thought he was cooing something in her ear.

Mercy didn't really know what it was that he said, even if she was sure it was nice.

She was already asleep.

***

Mercy's first thought upon waking up the following day was surprise that her hands were still stuck. Lindon had just untied her, hadn't he?

Her second thought was realizing that she was just completely tangled in her own bedsheets, her hands stuck in a wild bundle. Her nightgown had gotten twisted, and her hair was plastered across her forehead with dried sweat.

Mercy shook herself loose, and as she did, Buzzy popped out of some hidden fold of the sheets.

The instrument had a crack running along its length, dream madra slowly dripping out of it and dissolving to essence.

She must have overloaded it during the night, she realized with a pang of guilt for Buzzy.

She knew it was just an instrument, but it deserved better than this.

But at least she felt great. Odd, but great. Her body remembered the orgasms, but without any of the soreness that should have accompanied being fucked this roughly. It was a reminder that the experience hadn't been strictly real, but she still couldn't remember the last time she had felt this satisfied.

She would need to check up on Buzzy again as soon as possible. Sex tended to make Mercy hungry for more of it, and this didn't seem to be an exception. She could only hope poor Buzzy wasn't too injured to help.

But she was expected at the arena. Quality time with Buzzy would have to wait.

In contrast with her plans with Buzzy, Mercy made sure to dress just slightly more conservatively than usual as she headed off for the arena, her collar high and her hair pulled tight. Yerin was due to fight today, and she deserved Mercy's full support, without distractions. Everything rode on her now.

Mercy still wasn't exactly happy that the burden was falling on Yerin, but the despair did feel less crushing than the day before.

And she couldn't suppress a genuine smile when she found Lindon in the stands. His brows were furrowed, focused on the arena.

To a stranger, he probably looked like he was plotting someone's violent murder. Mercy just saw his concern for Yerin, and his frustration over not being able to help her more. Which were certainly feelings she could relate to.

And his face did brighten up as she took her place next to him.

She thought about it before wrapping her hands around his arm like she usually did. But she did not actually hesitate. Lindon was a friend, and she wanted him to stay that way. She wasn't going to let guilt over her own, private, one-night fantasy get in the way of that.

Being awkward around Lindon would be ridiculous.

"Hey, Mercy. Are you doing better today?" He asked.

"Much better, thank you. You really helped me yesterday."

He really had helped.

He just wouldn't ever need to know how.

Chapter Text

A few long, diffiult days later, the Uncrowned King tournament was over. Mercy's own injuries were healed, Pride was on the way to recovery, and her friends had ended up with more powerful rewards than anyone could have predicted.

Yerin was the Uncrowned King, and Seshethkunaaz was dead. Killed by Yerin. Mercy's family was more secure in its status than it had been in centuries.

And yet, the real effort had barely begun. Even leaving aside the fighting that still was to be done, dealing with the immediate aftermath would require incredible amounts of work. Especially from Mercy and other members of the head family.

For her, winning the war against the gold dragons would be far more work than fighting it.

But none of that would really start just yet. The aftermath of the Seishen kingdom trial was wringing her dry, but she had time to indulge.

And she knew just the way to do that.

Mercy found herself kneeling in front of Harmony. He had thrown himself into a chair, and she had positioned herself between his legs.

He was in a bad mood. Setbacks were mounting in his training. It wasn't severe, but Truegold had been the first ford in his advancement that was any trouble for him to cross, and he was struggling to adjust to the situation.

His talents were still obvious to anyone. But it wasn't enough to make him happy. And he flatly refused to allow Mercy to help with his training.

She found it disappointing, but he wouldn't budge.

And she had other, more fun ways to help him out anyway.

"Allow me take care of you," she purred, slowly running her hands over his thighs, feeling him through his robes.

She could tell he hadn't been in the mood a moment ago, stuck in his own thoughts, but she could feel him stiffening under her touch already.

He touched her head with an open palm, the motion just a bit too rough to count as stroking her hair, and the grip not tight enough to be just grabbing her head.

He was irritated. But Mercy didn't think that irritation could survive his cock's contact with her mouth. Or even the sight of her volunteering it.

"Sure," he grunted. "But that's all that's happening tonight, it's been a long day."

"It'll be my pleasure, honey."

She didn't mind lack of reciprocation. She could get her own orgasms on her own if she wanted. She liked being of service, and there was no one who could do this for him but her. Especially when he was in a bit of a grouchy, serious mood like he was now. Knowing she was the one who worked this harsh edge out of him was enjoyable enough on its own.

He looked down to her as he started untying the front of his robes, and she was thankful that his sleeves were short enough to give her a view of the little muscles in his forearms working as he undid the knots.

She had once heard Harmony described as looking feminine. Mercy didn't get it. Those people had never felt his arms or his strength. If a woman that looked like Harmony existed, well, then Mercy probably wouldn't kick her out of bed. The man was gorgeous, that's what he was.

The dark halo of his Goldsign gave his face a menacing cast. His eyes were still hard, frustrated.

Which was good, in a way. Mercy loved how Harmony was driven, ambitious, destined to rise above his station in the clan. He would need this hardness to rule by Mercy's side in due time. Leadership in the Akura clan would be hard for a soft soul. Mercy wasn't particularly looking forward to it herself. But she was looking forward to being able to rely on Harmony's strength and confidence while doing it.

They would rule side by side during the day, she thought, she as heir and he as her valued consort. And at night, she could step down from all that responsibility, kneel down and have him rule her for as long as the privacy lasted.

Just as she was doing now.

His cock and balls came free of his robes, fully exposed and accessible below precisely trimmed and shaved pubes. His cock was still mostly flaccid, but she took it in her mouth, the taste, smell and feel of Harmony filling her senses.

He purposefully exhaled once, closed his eyes, and let his hands drift to the armrests. He was beginning to relax, in the determined way Harmony ever came close to really relaxing.

He didn't speak the command, but Mercy heard it anyway. She was supposed to do the work tonight. Other men might fidget or feel compelled to guide her by the head or something equally counterproductive, but never Harmony. If he wanted to fuck her mouth, he would. If he wanted to lie back and let her suck his cock, he would. He would not hesitate or explain himself. He was too disciplined for that.

Mercy loved him for it.

She rolled his cock around in her mouth, pleased to feel him stiffen, one heartbeat at a time. The head of his cock rolled out from under the foreskin, exposing her to more of the taste that was uniquely his.

His cock grew, giving her more to play with, slowly filling her mouth.

She used the time to untie her own robes. Harmony's eyes were still closed, but she was sure he could tell what was happening by the rustling, and she wanted to make sure he liked the view just if he decided to look down at her.

Besides, she wanted to masturbate, and being clothed was just in the way.

Mercy's robes fell to the floor about the time Harmony reached full size, and she wasted no time finding her clit with two fingers of her right hand.

She was only just starting to get wet, but her fingers slid smoothly across anyway. The slick Goldsigns covering her hands might be inconvenient when trying to snap her fingers or pick up a scale, but when masturbating? Heavens.

Her pleasure immediately started coming in, hard and fast like little lightning shocks. She would have to pace herself to draw it out, or she'd come before Harmony did. And that she didn't want to do, she decided. This was supposed to be about him.

Harmony reached his full size, and Mercy could really start.

She slowly started bobbing her head back and forth along his shaft, working with nothing but her mouth.

With practiced motions, she began running her tongue back and forth along the underside of his cock, from balls to head. She kept the movement of her tongue just slightly faster than the the bobbing of her head, so while both her head and her tongue were each independently moving rhythmically back and forth, the overall sensation for him was constantly changing.

Mercy was rather proud of the move, enabled by the coordination given to her by her Puppeteer's Iron Body. Every man she'd been with since coming up with it had burst in less than a minute from it. Except for Harmony.

He did definitely enjoy it, though. He sat still and his face was slack as if he were meditating. Some might think he wasn't affected by this at all.

But Mercy knew his signs. And she could see his hands wrapped tightly around the armrests as if he were afraid to fall out.

She savored the moment, going back and forth. Sucking him off was wonderful. His cock was big enough, but wasn't so long that she would gag from taking the whole of it in her mouth, and not so thick that her jaw would wear out. The head was so smooth in her mouth, soft and hard in all the right places. It was a cock made for sucking.

She allowed herself to increase the pace of her own fingering as she got more wet.

A single moan escaped her lips as she hit some particularly good spot near her clit, and she was satisfied to hear Harmony grunt in turn as his cock jerked slightly.

And she could taste his precum.

Mercy didn't even try to suppress her smile. She had him. She had achieved her goal, Harmony was not thinking about his training any more.

Now just to finish the game.

Keeping one hand on herself and taking his shaft with the other to keep it in place, she began focusing on just the head of his cock.

It was already slick with her saliva, and she let her tongue run across its underside, licking the frenulum, kissing it. She took the head fully in her mouth for a moment, and then started licking again, hoping to tease out another reaction from him.

Harmony said nothing, and his breath was even. His eyes were still closed.

Harmony liked the idea that he was completely in control of himself. Mercy liked giving him the opportunity to prove it. So she redoubled her efforts.

She applied more pressure with her tongue, and to her satisfaction, she saw his grip hardening even further.

She could taste more of his precum as his cock got even harder, but she kept holding it in place, sucking and licking, twirling her tongue around the head.

Harmony's breath was finally getting heavier, and Mercy knew he was getting close.

She wasn't too far off herself.

She thought this should go on a few moments longer.

So she switched grip, sliding her mouth down to suck on his balls, playing with the slick head of his cock between her fingers, thumb rubbing the underside. She knew it felt good for him, but she also knew she just stopped him from certain orgasm.

His eyes shot open, finally looking down on her. He didn't exactly look angry, he was too aroused for that. Angry horny? She thought there should be a word for when your fiance wanted to stick you with a sword, but wanted to stick his cock in you more.

"Fuck, Mercy," he hissed with clenched teeth.

Mercy just looked up at him with open eyes, purple meeting purple, hard stare countered with mock innocence as she lightly licked one of his balls while jerking him off with one hand.

It was an expression that asked "what did I do wrong?" without admitting even the slightest of guilt. She knew it drove him nuts.

"You will keep sucking until you're done. Do not stop," he growled.

There was no sound Mercy liked more in the world than his voice when he had that edge to it. Her knees would have buckled at the sound if she wasn't already on them, and her clit gave an embarrassingly hard jolt under her fingers. The only thing preventing her from coming on the spot was that she had decided not to come first.

She was tempted to not follow the command just to see if there was an "or else" to it, but she really didn't have it in her to disobey when he had been so abundantly clear what she was to do.

She took his shaft in her hand, the head of the cock in her mouth, and put her heart and soul into sucking and licking.

Mercy only had to wait seconds before Harmony leaned back and groaned. Mercy's mouth shot full of cum in instant, and she managed to swallow just before another spurt did it again. And again.

She kept sucking until he was dry, falling limp, and slipping out of her mouth.

Harmony was breathing evenly again, and didn't say anything.

Mercy was still touching herself, but had fallen out of rhythm. Finally, with Harmony satisfied, she allowed herself to focus on herself.

Her knees and ankles weren't sore from kneeling. She could still feel as much as taste where his cum had hit her tongue.

She grabbed his leg with one black-gloved hand, and with the other, started working her clit. Ruthlessly.

She had been so good. She deserved this.

Finally having given herself permission, her orgasm started coming in quickly.

She dug her face and fingers into Harmony's thigh as it rocketed through her where she knelt, coming hard and fast. Probably leaving spit on his robe, but she didn't care.

She had come extremely fast. It had hit her like a snapped rubber band, and then it was gone.

In fact, all sensation was gone. She was still touching herself, but she couldn't feel it.

She also couldn't feel where she was touching Harmony's thigh.

Confused, Mercy looked up and found... nothing.

The halo of Harmony's Goldsign had expanded to envelop his head, leaving Mercy staring into a dark void where his face should be.

It was a sight alien enough to make her have to strangle a scream before she realized what was happening.

This wasn't working.

Mercy watched as the world broke into a thousand pieces as if it had been painted on a shattered mirror, each carrying the picture of a detail of her scene as it tumbled down into nothing.

For a moment she existed in a cold, unfeeling void.

***

Mercy woke in her own bed, Buzzy cradled against her stomach where she lay face down on her knees under the covers. The feeling of orgasm lingered, but so did the... emptyness.

Buzzy had been damaged a few days ago when her scene with Lindon had gotten a bit out of hand, showing cracks and leaking madra. It wasn't leaking any more. He was simply inert. This attempt had exhausted him fully.

Mercy sat up on the edge of her bed, holding Buzzy in her hands.

She felt guilty for making use of him in his current state, this unsatisfying orgasm had hardly been worth it. But she hadn't managed to think of easy ways to do the required repairs.

And to be completely honest with herself, she had wanted the release more than she wanted to review her old Soulsmithing lessons.

She had thought revisiting an older fantasy would have been easier on the toy. She knew from experience that those required less dream madra flow than conjuring up a whole scenario from the ground up, and this was not a complicated memory. The two of them had barely moved out of position. But apparently that had still been too much, and poor Buzzy had paid the price.

Leaving Buzzy fully broken, and her unsatisfied, and somehow more alone than ever.

And somewhat guilty about having revived that memory.

She didn't think often about Harmony these days. Which was another sort of guilt of its own - the man had been a huge part of her life for a long time, and he was gone. Killed by Lindon. Her friend.

For that, she didn't feel guilty. She knew now what kind of man Harmony had been.

The sex with him had been... memorable. Most of the steamiest things she had actually done in her life had been with him.

But in retrospect, the situation hadn't been healthy. At all.

Turns out there was a world of difference between someone who treated her like a plaything because they understood her needs and someone who did it because they didn't care about anything but themselves.

Harmony had slowly, painfully, taught her that difference the hard way.

He had never been sensitive to begin with, which for a while Mercy had thought was perfect. The sex had been hard, rough and frequent. She hadn't minded too much that he didn't care for her very much after leaving her sore. She had been getting what she wanted. Or at least what she thought she wanted at the time.

It only really started breaking apart when he started falling behind her in the sacred arts. The harsh things he said when talking dirty started getting an edge, like he really meant them.

It happened gradually. But by the end, she had felt his resentment in every thrust when they fucked.

Mercy wouldn't have cared if he never advanced again. The man she thought he was wouldn't have cared that he couldn't physically overpower her, the confidence of the man she thought he was wouldn't have been shaken by that.

Mercy certainly wasn't. She would have loved if he kept bending her over by the hair even if she reached Monarch and he remained at Truegold.

But that hadn't happened. His pride hadn't even survived losing a duel. When everything was said and done, he had just been a man who was too small to handle her power, and cruel enough to take advantage of her desire to please.

She had kept up wanting to do everything to make him happy right up to the moment she realized that.

At least she could thank Harmony for leading her right to her Underlady revelation. Figuring out that she started walking her Path to make her mother proud had been rather straightforward after a few days of wallowing in her own misery, lamenting how much of a people pleaser she was.

Mercy felt a teardrop hit her hand where she held Buzzy, and stopped to wipe her eyes.

At least she wasn't horny any more.

And she had real friends now. They had faced death together and she trusted them with her life, so at some point she might even be able to trust with them what she really needed in order to be happy.

But not yet. She wished she could tell them what she was feeling, but she. Just. Couldn't.

She'd send for Soulsmithing tools in the morning.

Buzzy was the only one she really wanted to share her true self with just yet.

Mercy set him down. Time to see if she still remembered enough to pretend to be a Soulsmith.

***

Days later, Northstrider found himself on the roof of a long-abandoned fortress. It had been built by a human sect that had briefly risen to power following the Dread War, but its rule had been unstable and short-lived.

Turns out that their claim to power had been brief because their abilities were meager. The survey of the ruins had yielded little of interest and taken less time than he had allocated, so he had a few moments to spend on other ventures.

He sat down in a cycling position as he spread out his perception.

Probing the surviving Uncrowned one by one.

He did not habitually spend his valuable time prying into the lives of Lords so young and lacking in advancement. But as Northstrider saw it, the Uncrowned were ideal candidates for periodic observation. Older and more advanced sacred artists may be more likely to work on projects of note, but they were correspondingly more likely to have devised ways to detect his scans or make their objections known in inconvenient ways.

The young Lords of the Uncrowned King tournament were perfect. Intelligent, ambitious, and rarely displayed any bothersome precaution, thinking that their success among their peers made them invincible.
Unfortunate that so few had survived, despite his efforts in overseeing the tournament. Galling that he had spent all this effort resurrecting them after each battle, allowing them to push themselves to their utmost, only to have them thrown away like pawns in Reigan Shen's games.

His perception stretched to Yerin Arelius, where she was doing nothing more exceptional than spending another hour practicing her sword forms. She might have held power and had found a most unusual method of advancement, but that on its own wasn't of much use to him. Barring some intervention, she would spend years or decades adapting to the changes in her spirit. A curious aberration and surely a world power in the future, but Northstrider was not looking for new ways to advance to herald.

Her ally, Lindon Arelius, had provided far more useful research material so far, with his mind spirit Dross. He had established a rapport with that one, feeding him crumbs of information in exchange for time with the spirit, and would return to him when the time was right. For now, he had absorbed all he could, there was little to be gained from further observation.

He switched his focus, reaching out for Akura Mercy. And found... something unexpected.

In his perception, she seemed to be working on what appeared to be an instrument of life and dream madra. She sat hunched over a desk which was covered in Soulsmithing instruments, her face scrunched up in concentration as if she were working on something complicated.

This could be anything. But life and dream were the same madra types as he had used in some of his earlier attempts to construct a Presence in Ghostwater.

Northstrider's own attempts had not lead anywhere, but Akura Mercy was talented and allied with Lindon Arelius. She could have had a chance to study Dross, and come up with a viable way to improve her mind using that particular combination of auras.

It was unlikely, but anything that might improve his Oracle Codex was worth his time. If she was on a promising path, he would gain from accelerating her work.

Northstrider stood up, and prepared to fold space to appear in the girl's room.

Which may have been a breach of propriety, he thought as he stepped through the blue of the Way. Akura Mercy may have been only an Underlord, but she was the spawn of Akura Malice, an occasional ally he would be ill advised to offend too gravely, and a promising young Lady in her own right. Tiresome and time-consuming as it was, he would need to display the utmost civility to this girl.

An instant later, he emerged from the Way, and spoke as he entered the world.

"Greetings, Akura Mercy."

The Underlady scrambled to hide her work. Good. Her attempt to guard it likely meant it was valuable. But he did not have time to indulge her.

"Explain to me the nature of your dream and life instrument," he said. "Please."

Northstrider was used to evoking fear and surprise. But Akura Mercy instead looked absolutely horrified.

His attempt at politeness must have failed.

Chapter Text

Mercy's brows furrowed as she struggled to repair Buzzy.

It shouldn't have been very complicated. Buzzy, wonderful as he was, was really not such a complicated sex toy.

Him not being complicated was actually the problem. He was a Gold-level instrument, which was now being powered by her madra as an Overlady, more dense and powerful than he had been designed for. He had been acting oddly the last couple of times she used him, and then he broke entirely.

Or at least she hoped it was the madra quality causing the issues, not just that lately her fantasies had been getting... intense.

She could have bought a replacement, but just throwing Buzzy away seemed callous after all they'd shared. She could also have commissioned a toy suitable for a Lady, but there was no way to do that privately enough.

Maybe no one would care. But she definitely didn't want to risk having half the clan snickering about the heir's structurally reinforced sex toy.

Besides, as soon as she started thinking about having something commissioned, she had started thinking about what she really wanted out of the toy. And the more she thought about it, the more she realized how specific her requirements were.

She wanted more sensations out of the experience, she wished they were able to include some discomfort. Maybe even some pain.

Not that she needed pain that badly. She just wanted a more complete experience, like how getting your knees scraped just a bit was a part of being taken from behind. That was definitely it.

She thought it was perfectly reasonable that the possiblity of pain was a part of a full immersion, for anyone who liked things just a bit rough. She just didn't want to go through explaining that line of thinking to a Soulsmith.

Which was how she found herself hunched over her desk, doing her own repairs.

In theory, Mercy should have been able to create a toy like this from scratch. In practice, it was turning out more complicated.

Unfortunately, aside from being out of practice as a Soulsmith, she was a pure shadow artist, not a life artist or a dream artist. Her closest reference when it came to dream madra was her own Dream of Darkness technique, and that wasn't suited for anything but trapping enemies in a prison of their own nightmares. Hardly what she was going for.

Lindon could probably have fixed this in his sleep, she thought. He'd do it if she asked him to, but the poor man was so awkward about sex that for every minute he would spend on repairs, he would spend an hour finding something to apologize for. No way she wanted him to go through that.

And she couldn't bear the thought of even the slight possibility of him being disgusted by what she wanted.

Lindon was probably the absolute last person in the world she'd want to know about this.

Which was her last thought before space ripped open behind her, her Soulsmithing notes fluttering in a sudden gust of wind.

Mercy's spirit flared up in alarm, scanning the intruder in an instant.

And finding... power. Incredible power. Veiled, but veils could only hide so much strength when it was being used to tear through space.

"Greetings, Akura Mercy," an all-too familiar voice said behind her.

She was in the presence of Northstrider.

He probably wasn't here to kill her. He was something like an ally to the Akura clan, and if he wanted her dead he'd either have sent someone to take care of it or obliterated her without a word.

So Mercy swept her work to the center of the table with what she was sure were measured, smooth movements, and stood up, putting herself between Buzzy and Northstrider.

His massive arms were folded behind his back, draconic eyes inscrutable as always. He was again dressed in mismatched rags and random bits of armor, which was rather surprising considering how handsomely he had dressed during the final match of the tournament.

Were these the same clothes he had had on before, or did he have a full rack of spare sets in a void space somewhere? Did he not care about his appearance, or did he purposefully put this on like war-paint to throw his enemies off?

Mercy was not about to ask him about his wardrobe. This wasn't her first time meeting a Monarch other than her Mother, but this was still hardly going to be pleasant. Northstrider wouldn't have shown up without wanting something, most likely something to do with the clan. She should get this over with quickly.

"Explain to me the nature of your dream instrument. Please"

Her heart sank until it felt like it was about to drop through her core.

She fought down her dread, with what she was sure was some success, and squeezed out a reply.

"Honored Monarch, it... it is nothing of note."

Northstrider said nothing, and his spirit did not stir. Only his eyes threatened to drill holes through her soul. Which they probably could.

And he reached out towards her, palm upwards.

Mercy considered defying him by refusing outright. If he smote her to pieces for the insult, she wouldn't have to suffer this embarrassment.

But she had been through worse.

Even if hands shook like they hadn't since she was a Copper, she reached behind her for Buzzy and handed over the instrument.

Northstrider took it wordlessly.

Mercy's spirit boiled with embarrassment. "As I said, it's just-"

Northstrider cut her off. "I am familiar with the original function of the instrument."

His tone gave no indication of emotion, leaving Mercy's mind racing to figure out what he thought. Was he amused? Angry at her for wasting his time? Would he mock her?

If Northstrider could just get it over with and kill her for wasting his time, that would be great.

He simply continued. "But you have made alterations, using your own dream technique."

Mercy could only nod.

"The idea is not without theoretical merits, but your skill is lacking. I will demonstrate. Observe, Akura Mercy."

With slow, exaggerated motions, he popped Buzzy open, revealing the components floating in the air. Circles of life, dream and now shadow madra hovered between his hands in big, looping patterns. She could see where the dream and life madra had frayed from her use, leaving them thin and unusable. She could also see the problem with her repair attempt - even if the knot of shadow madra she had added might have worked to tie Buzzy together again, he wouldn't have been exactly whole.

With a twist of his palms and a spark of soulfire, Northstrider adjusted the madra flows. They smoothed out, the patterns suddenly making sense. All three madra types now formed a single whole, as if the shadow had always been meant to combine the life and dream.

He brought his hands back together, and Buzzy's components snapped back into place. She could still see dark specks floating inside the shell, but Mercy could tell that whatever Northstrider did, it had worked.

"This can be of use for introspection and overcoming blocks, which may assist you in finding... what Lord revelations you have remaining. But it is of no use to me."

He handed the toy back. Before Mercy even had regained enough composure to thank the Monarch, he had re-opened the portal and stepped back out the way he came.

She was left staring at the toy. What was that about it allowing introspection? Buzzy was nice, but he was a toy.

If he could be called that any more. He had just been perfected with top-grade soulfire. If she were to pour madra into him now, her own channels would probably burst before Buzzy would.

Not a sex toy. A sex artifact, maybe.

Apart from that, Buzzy seemed... fine. Northstrider had simply finished the work she had already started, shadow madra modifications and all. It was exactly what she had been trying to achieve.

At least that wrapped up her project for the evening. And it was getting late.

Mercy put away her tools and notes.

She thought about telling someone that Northstrider had just appeared in her room uninvited. But what was she going to tell people had happened? It had been rude, and uncomfortable, but when it came to Monarchs, propriety was whatever they thought it was. Her Mother certainly made her own rules - which was probably part of why Mercy didn't want to.

So Mercy determined to put Northstrider and all other Monarchs out of her mind, and started preparing for bed.

As she lay down in her nightdress, she took the new and improved Buzzy with her.

She had given him a thorough inspection. Buzzy was fine, just more powerful than ever.

What would Buzzy be able to do now? Would the experience simply be more intense? Would the fantasies be more vivid?

Could she finally feel every forbidden feeling she needed to feel?

Lust and curiosity overcame the nervousness, and she started funneling madra into the instrument.

Mercy blacked out instantly, and the world disappeared.

Chapter Text

Mercy woke up on a bed that was not her own, in a place she had never seen before. Her madra reserves were oddly low, and her spiritual senses correspondingly muffled.

She was in some kind of fortress, but one unlike any she had seen before. Looking around, she saw a large chamber of smooth, dark stone, with the bed at the center. Both the walls and the ceiling were interspersed with prominent mirrors and windows, letting in dim light. Outside, she saw nothing but swirling blue, giving the impression that the chamber was somehow underwater. It was as if the chamber were suspended in the middle of an ocean, neither surface nor bottom in sight, but yet somehow not dark. She hadn't made it in to see it, but something made her think of Lindon's descriptions of the Ghostwater facility.

And there were no doors, no visible exit of any kind. She was trapped.

There were whips and restraining racks lined along the walls, so it had to be some kind of dungeon.

But if it was a dungeon, it was luxurious. The sheets she lay on were of smooth purple silk, and the chamber seemed equipped for comfort. A little teaset was spread out on a low table surrounded by traditional seating cushions, and the walls held what looked like well-stocked shelves.

One of the shelves held six butt plugs, going from the width of a finger to what had to be anatomically impossible to fit anywhere. They stood in a neat, straight row, sorted by size.

She swallowed as she realized exactly what kind of dungeon this was.

And seeing her own reflection in one of the mirrors and seeing what she was wearing - or rather not wearing, she noticed that she was dressed to be one of the toys in this sex dungeon.

Her heart sped up. She was wearing practically nothing.

A long scarf of purple silk was wrapped around her chest in a simple pattern, held in place by a single knot behind her neck. A thin silver chain was wrapped around her hips, and from it hung two strands of black, purple-trimmed fabric covering the back and front. They were long enough to reach below her knees if she were to stand up, but only wide enough to give the barest of cover, leaving her hips bare. She had nothing on underneath, the tiniest breeze or the wrong angle would allow anyone to see... everything.

Making a careful effort not to make any kind of sound that could be considered a squeak or a peep, she grabbed the covers of the bed to wrap around herself. There was no one around that she could see or sense, but she couldn't just stay like this. Even the gaze of her own reflection felt a bit uncomfortably judgemental, and it was difficult to escape even that. There was at least one mirror practically anywhere she looked. She could see herself from all angles, wrapped in the purple sheet and so little else.

Mercy refused to panic. She had been in more dangerous situations than this before. She had only just woken up, her kidnapper might not even realize she was awake yet, even with this limited madra she had available to her she could-

Wait.

She had only just woken up after being knocked out by Buzzy. And her madra was low.

Finally taking a moment to think about her spirit rather than her surroundings, she could feel that she actually had plenty of madra.

Most of it was just going to feed Buzzy, which she could feel humming with power. Her sense of him was as if he were an instrument in her soulspace - with her, but elsewhere.

And if elsewhere was the real world, that would make this place... the Buzzyverse.

She also realized she could leave any time she wanted. Buzzy continuously drew on her madra without her active involvement to sustain the illusion, but all she needed to make all of this go away was to cut off the madra flow. Which she could do with a thought. She wasn't truly trapped.

But it was an extremely convincing illusion of her being trapped. She marvelled at her surroundings, seeing them in a new light now that she realized what they were.

Buzzy had been pretty good before, but the illusions projected by him had still had a dreamlike quality. Those last few times when they had become immersive enough for her to really forget herself had cracked the instrument.

This, on he other hand, felt completely real. Trapped in a dungeon of her own making, presumably stocked with every kind of sex toy she had ever read about.

She tried not to think too hard about what that told her about herself.

But why was she alone? Were her "captors" going to burst in at any moment, demanding she fuck each of them in turn, only winning her freedom if she entertained them enough?

She hoped not. She had fantasized about something like that maybe once, but that had been when she was really into the Pirates of the Trackless Sea series as a teenager. Her tastes were much more refined now. Buzzy surely hadn't dug that out of her subconscious.

Had he?

This didn't have the feel of a pirate den. But there was only one way to find out more about the chamber.

She let her feet touch the stone floor, and was surprised to find it as clean as if a particularly dedicated Arelius had been at work, as well as pleasantly warm. The air temperature was nice as well, with or without the sheet she had wrapped around herself. Whatever Buzzy was cooking up for her, at least it didn't include freezing her toes off.

And with that, she really had nothing to fear. Mercy sprang to her feet, still wrapped in her sheet, and started exploring the chamber.

She started with one of the full-height mirrors.

She looked like someone had done a lot of work on her. Her hair was done up in a tight, practical knot. Her lips and toenails had been painted a bright violet matching her eyes, and she had far more makeup than she usually did, with eyeshadow of black and purple.

Every single strand of hair on her body, from eyebrows to ankles, had been trimmed, shaved, or waxed away entirely. Not even her privates had been spared, she confirmed with a quick peek behind the strip of cloth that passed as her garment. Just a small triangle of hair remained, pointing down towards her slit, leaving her labia bare.

Seeing the outfit up close sparked a memory. She had once thought about surprising Harmony by dressing up as a harem girl. It would have looked something like this, and she was sure he would have loved it - he would have been overcome with desire when he found her waiting for him, grabbing her, throwing her down, growling what exactly he was going to do to her in her ear, claiming her as his own...

She hadn't dared to go ahead with it. She might have done it on their wedding night, but things had gone sour between them long before it came to that. But clearly the memory had stuck with her, and Buzzy had dug it up.

Now that it was right in front of her, she couldn't help but like the look. Mercy hadn't been this done up since the start of the Uncrowned King tournament, but then it had been to present her as a representative of the clan. It hadn't been about her, it had been about what she represented, her power and that of her family.

Her performance had earned her the admiration of the whole world. And she hadn't minded that. But still no one had really seen her.

She hadn't ever had anyone who wanted her just for her, and nothing else. Lindon, Yerin and even Eithan had come close, taking her in when they thought she was disgraced, but even they had first and foremost thought of her as a sacred artist.

Plenty of people had admired her perfect Iron Body, but no one ever said they wanted her perfect body.

That was the kind of attention she was missing. And Buzzy apparently agreed, although he of course had a bit of a one-track mind when it came to this.

She suddenly felt silly where she stood in front of the mirror wrapped in the bedsheet. She was inside her own mind, looking at her own perfected sexual self-image in the form of a reflection, and still she was shy.

It was ridiculous to be self-conscious here.

She still didn't drop the sheet as she moved away from the mirror and kept exploring the room.

Aside from the prominently displayed whips and restraints, she found what seemed like every single sex toy and sacred instrument usable for sex she could imagine. Air cuffs. Orgasm rods. Shadow hoods. Healing floggers. In fact, this dungeon probably contained precisely all sex toys she had heard of or could imagine. No more, no less.

The variety was still dizzying. Just much time had she spent reading about these things over the years?

She had never tried or even seen most of these in person, especially the harsher toys. Even Buzzy had his limitations when it came to certain things. He couldn't do pain.

Mercy felt a deep tickle of excitement as she realized Buzzy just had had his limitations when it came to pain.

She reached out and took the nearest whip hanging on one of the pegs in the wall, a short dragon's tongue. It felt real in her hand, made of solid red and black leather. It also didn't look anything like an actual dragon's tongue, whoever named this type of whip must have never seen a dragon.

She had to know if it worked.

Still holding the bedsheet with one hand, she reached out a leg and brought the whip hard down on the front of her thigh.

Sharp pain bloomed as the whip accidentally wrapped all the way around her thigh and hit her on the hamstring. It was not only real pain, but far more intense than she expected. She didn't have an Underlady's soulfire-forged skin here, she noticed as a straight red welt started forming where she had hit herself.

Someone could really do a number on her here, she thought as she hung the whip back on its peg. But who? She wasn't that excited about the idea of just playing with herself here, although there were certainly possibilities.

Mercy was just starting to think of what to try next, when space broke behind her for the second time in what had to be just a few hours. At least this time she wasn't completely caught by surprise.

Not that she could do much about it. She had barely any of her madra available to her, and while the room was full of toys, there were no hiding places.

All she could do was to wrap her sheet around her a bit more tightly and move to face the portal.

Northstrider stepped out of the portal, again staring at her with an unreadable expression and concealing his power. His outfit was again similar to the one he had worn at the end of the tournament - white shirt with dark pants, held in place with a red belt. His beard was fully shaved off, and his hair styled and tied to the back.

Mercy's stomach sank. She would have been less surprised by a whole pirate crew emerging from that portal than Northstrider.

Had he done something to Buzzy after all, and if so, why? He was a Monarch - if he wanted to abuse his power to take advantage of a Lady, he wouldn't have needed to bother with a trick like this.

"Honored Monarch... I did not expect to see you." she said, with all the dignity she could muster while wrapped in nearly nothing but a silk sheet, bare shoulders and toes peeking out. "Why did you bring me here?"

"I did no such thing, Mercy," Northstrider rumbled in reply. "It is you who brought me here."

Mercy's mind raced as she looked over Northstrider again. And she blushed.

This wasn't really Northstrider. He looked real, both to her eyes and the limited spiritual senses she could access in this place. But there were a few differences from the Monarch she had seen earlier that day.

This Northstrider's arms ended in human hands, and they were covered in intricate tattoos rather than dragon scales. Both the real Northstrider and this one had a powerful chest with a robust amount of hair, but the real one's shirt hadn't plunged to reveal this much of it, and his pants hadn't been nearly as tightly fitted. And even if it was difficult to tell with a sacred artist this advanced, this version seemed younger, more vigorous.

Their eyes were the same. Slitted, dangerous.

And none of this explained why he was here.

"I am not who you expected," he said.

Indeed he wasn't. Was he reading her thoughts? Did it even count as reading her thoughts if he was a creation of her mind to begin with?

Mercy was only beginning to unravel the situation, but she could not just leave the conversation hanging.

"No, Monarch, you... you were not. Sorry!" she said, pulling up some cheer. He wasn't here to harm her, so there was no reason to be unpleasant. "Is this a result of your... upgrades? Was your image somehow imprinted on the toy?"

"The explanation is simple," Northstrider said, as he walked closer, the portal shutting behind him. "I finished the modifications you had already made to your instrument, which incorporated aspects of your dream technique. As you have discovered, instead of just fueling your fantasies based on conscious and sub-conscious memories, the instrument now creates an entire fantasy world tailored to maximize your own sexual pleasure."

He was still more than an arm's length of Mercy, but already she felt as if the heat of his body was battering her. Which couldn't be the case, but her flush intensified anyway, creeping from her cheeks and down her neck. Even somehow ignoring his power, Northstrider was just a whole lot of man.

"As it turns out, your greatest fantasy involves you submitting sexually to a figure of authority. I was at the forefront of your mind as you activated the instrument, so it brought me here. Not as a romantic interest, or even as a detailed person in my own right, but as a symbol of power - a distant figure, a safe target on which to project your cravings."

Northstrider folded his muscle-bound arms in front of him. "And here I am." Nothing in his tone changed, but something told Mercy he found the situation... amusing.

Mercy's heart raced, considering the possibilities.

"So everything - and everyone - here is the way it is because that is what I desire?" Mercy asked. The person in front of her might be a reflection of her own mind, but carrying on with the conversation as if it were real seemed like the most natural thing to do.

"Indeed. You are here because you want to be here," Northstrider said.

"And if I disagree?" Mercy asked. She was still not entirely on board with the idea of Buzzy and her subconscious mind ganging up on her like this. "What if this isn't what I want?"

"If you were to want something else, it would happen. And such options are still available to you. Observe."

To Mercy's left, a new portal opened. It led into a bright, richly decorated chamber, where half a dozen gorgeous harem boys surrounded a golden divan. Their Goldsigns indicated paths of life and dreams. Pleasure paths. She got the impression she could walk through that door and be treated to a night of complete sexual ecstasy. One word, and they would treat her with the finest food and wine, they would massage her, they would fuck her tirelessly, or fuck one another just to entertain her.

"You could be treated like a queen," Northstrider said.

The idea felt wrong. She wasn't inclined to use her wealth and power like this in the real world, and even in this illusory world the prospect didn't feel any more attractive.

But Northstrider was not done. "If you wanted to explore new aspects of your sexuality, you could do so."

Another portal opened, this time into a more conventional bedroom with a four-poster bed. Within, someone stood, back facing Mercy.

It was a tall woman, her pose exuding the confidence of an experienced sacred artist. Blonde locks tumbled down to her shoulders, and she was wearing light robes which left most of her tanned back bare. In her hand rested a long, neat coil of rope.

The scene stirred something unfamiliar deep in Mercy's stomach. It promised an exquisite experience, and she would learn something very, very new about herself.

It was a portal she wasn't ready to walk through.

"And then, of course, there's romance." Northstrider's words gave no hint of what would be behind the third portal as it opened up behind him, but Mercy already knew what she would see.

Lindon sat alone at a restaurant table set for two, holding some kind of horrible pink flower. His hair had been beaten into submission into something that resembled style. A rare, relaxed smile was on his face. He was looking forward to his date to arrive.

He was waiting for Mercy.

If the previous scene moved something in her stomach, this one hit her like a punch.

Lindon was handsome. He had even made appearances in her fantasies not too long before.

His slowly blooming relationship with Yerin had even hurt, in a way - but it was because while the two of them had found each other, Mercy had no one she could share herself with.

It wasn't jealously. It was loneliness. She wasn't in love with Lindon, she just loved him. And she loved Yerin too - and with them clearly being a fresh couple now, a fantasy date with Lindon would just leave Mercy twisted up inside.

Northstrider continued. "These are not exhaustive scenarios, of course. But they all carry with them... choices and complications. Which is exactly what you came here to avoid."

Warmth crept into his voice, which was uncharacteristic, at least for the real-world Northstrider. "What I offer you here is the one form of freedom a Monarch's daughter can't have. Freedom from choice, from exerting dominion over others, from having to carve your own Path."

Northstrider stepped real close to Mercy. She wasn't especially short, but right there, she felt small. Dwarfed by the power of the man in front of her. She stared at his chest, unable to meet his eyes.

He continued. "You will retain the ability to stop at any point, or leave completely with a single thought. But that choice, continuously made, will be the only one you make tonight. Your sole concern will be submitting to my will."

Northstrider lightly grabbed Mercy's chin, bringing her eyes up to his. "Would you like to submit, Mercy?"

Tears started flowing from her eyes. Not of fear, not of sadness, but tears of relief.

There was nothing in the world she wanted more than to take a break from her work, her crushing responsibilities. The fact that nobody was in love with her, or even knew all of her.

Even abdicating her power and living as a Lowgold hadn't given her that. Even then, one way or another, Mercy had still been responsible for the safety of her friends.

This time there would be nothing.

She only had one question.

She was embarrassed to ask it. She lowered her chin again, and poked an interesting stone in the floor with her toe.

But she had to know.

"Will there be pain?"

"Yes." Northstrider's response was unflinching. "But there will be no suffering."

That was good enough for Mercy.

She nodded her consent. As if this universe understood, the other portals closed without a sound.

"I'm yours for tonight," she whispered, and let the sheet fall to her feet. As it slid down from her shoulders, it took the weight of the world with it.

Leaving her nearly bare before this powerful stranger.

"Good," Northstrider murmured, and dried off her few tears with a thumb. "Are you prepared?"

Mercy nodded again, as Northstrider stepped back.

"Then Kneel."

Northstrider's word was etched on the world, and Mercy wasn't sure whether it was she who obeyed or whether it was the floor that leapt up to meet her. Either way, she slammed down on her knees, legs and feet as flat as possible against the stone. It was a dramatic move, but painless. Her Iron Body could withstand a lot more, even here.

Mercy had the feeling that tonight, she would find out just how much more.

Several scripted metal cuffs floated over, carried by Northstrider's invisible control. Air cuffs. He would be able to anchor them in the air with his will, or have them move around as he wanted.

All but one of the metal rings arrayed around Mercy, floating where she knelt, the final one landing in Northstrider's hand.

His command was immediate and familiar.

"Begin."

From the layout of the cuffs it was clear where each should go. When she reached for the first, it opened on its own. Once placed on her wrist, it snapped shut, leaving no visible seam. It even shrunk slightly, fitting snugly without rattling.

Mercy's breath was heavy as she cuffed herself. One on each wrist and ankle, and above each knee and elbow. The ones around her ankles were hard to get in place with her feet still held in place by the command to kneel, but she managed.

Northstrider's golden gaze locked on her throughout, with clear approval.

He locked the final ring in place around Mercy's neck himself.

"Describe how you feel," Northstrider said. It was a command, not a question.

The response was obvious. "Helpless. Powerless." But there was more.

Her sacred arts would be useless in this situation, leaving her with no way to resist... anything. She was still safe in the sense that she could leave at any time, but within the boundaries of this reality, she couldn't do anything at all.

There was a peace to knowing she was really out of cards to play. She exhaled, and found herself slinking deeper.

"Peaceful," Mercy added.

"Good. Revel in it, and Rise," Northstrider commanded.

She felt the restrictions on her posture by Northstrider's authority slip, replaced by her being pulled upwards by her cuffs. The pull was smooth and respected her range of motion, but she was inexorably drawn upwards. The pull didn't stop until she stood fully upright and on her toes, her legs spread, and her hands were stuck behind her head. She seemed to be held in place by the cuffs and collar only, but they were as unyielding as if they were held in place by iron bars.

Northstrider stepped in closer than ever, running his hands possessively over her hips and sides. Those hands certainly felt human. Strong, but not even very rough.

Mercy shivered, which was about all the motion she was capable of. She thought of protesting, she thought of asking for more.

It was all irrelevant. Northstrider would do as he wanted.

"Your role as my plaything suits you well. You are beautiful, Mercy," Northstrider rumbled.

"T-hank you," Mercy stuttered.

This is what she had been wanting to hear so badly.

Before she could get in another thought, Northstrider gave Mercy a single, hard spank on the ass, making her yelp.

"My title is Monarch, and you will address me as such."

"Yes, Monarch, thank you for the instruction and your compliment, Monarch."

Northstrider nodded, and stroked her ass where he had just hit it. She was sure a palm-print was forming there now.

"Everything I have seen of you so far has been beautiful. I will now take a look at the rest."

Her hands shot up, pulled out by her cuffs, leaving her spread like a starfish.

Giving Northstrider easy access to the knot of the scarf which was all that hid her breasts.

He undid it slowly and carefully, dragging the silk across her skin. Leaving her bare from the waist up save for her cuffs and collar.

Northstrider's breath was heavy as he fondled her, keeping one hand on her breast and running another down her ass, fingers just slightly reaching under the strip of cloth covering her.

A lover would have kissed her in that moment, pushing their lips together while she didn't even have the option to move away.

Northstrider apparently had something different in mind.

With another quick spank on her ass, he peeled himself away... and walked behind her, apparently inspecting something on one of the shelves, but broad-shouldered as he was, she had no way to see what, even with all the mirrors. Mostly she could see the tea set and table in front of her.

But she was quickly distracted from whatever Northstrider was doing as she felt the pull of gravity change as her cuffs sprang to life again. They lifted her slightly off the ground, leaving her feet dangling.

Most of her weight was on her arms. It wasn't exactly comfortable, but her Iron Body could handle a lot more.

Besides, it was fun to fly like this.

She noticed the weight shifting ever so slightly. It happened very slowly, but she could feel the cuffs beginning to rotate where she was spread out, turning her in place as if she were attached to the spokes of a huge, invisible wheel.

She was still mostly upright. With how slowly it was happening, it would take minutes, but eventually she would be upside down.

Mercy suddenly became extremely aware that gravity was the only thing making sure that the strips of cloth hanging from her waist covered anything. Unless he stopped the rotation, she'd show everything, and it would be so... undignified.

For the first time since being cuffed, she struggled. It was useless. The cuffs and collar might not be attached to anything visisble, but all nine of them were literally held in place by a Monarch's will. They remained stubbornly in place.

"Monarch? Please..."

Northstrider didn't answer, but he did appear again in front of her, hands held behind his back.

She was going to ask him not to turn her upside down.

But his draconic stare was one that had faced down armies. What chance did a bound, half-naked woman have? It was hard to get out the words.

"... this will be so unflattering," was all she managed to say.

He did not so much as blink. "I decide what is flattering. Your input on the matter will not be necessary."

Her eyes shot open as he pushed the gag he had had behind his back into her mouth. It was a broad, soft bar gag of black leather, and he fastened it behind her head in moments.

"I do not intend to use your mouth today, so this pleases me. If you are in distress, I will sense it from your spirit."

Mercy still wasn't entirely convinced that this Northstrider couldn't just read her thoughts. But she didn't expect she was actually in any more danger. So she just let out her best indignant "hmph" at the treatment.

It was not very effective, on one hand because the gag filled her mouth quite well, on the other because she was frustratingly happy when he told her she pleased him.

At least the gag was comfortable, even at the sides of her mouth.

Northstrider walked behind her again as she kept slowly rotating, the room now starting to look noticeably askew.

And came back with a pair of screw-tightened nipple clamps held together by a weighted chain.

Mercy did her best to plead with her eyes and moans, which he seemed not to notice as he fixed them precisely to her nipples.

They felt tight, but they didn't hurt that much. She had played with clamps before, nothing much would happen unless he started pulling on them. And removing them would be... a lot.

She felt herself tense up in anticipation.

But Northstrider didn't start pulling on her clamps, spanking her, or doing anything to her at all. He nodded once as if inspecting his own handiwork.

And he sat down on one of the seating cushions next to the tea set in front of her. Leaving Mercy literally hanging.

She thought he would surely get up again soon, but he just waited, staring at her with those eyes of his.

"Not going to do anything?" she asked from behind the gag, which came out as "Nngna ning?" at best.

Northstrider did not respond, just kept on looking.

At which point she realized the strip of cloth must surely have started to fall away from her pussy, giving him plenty to look at.

She struggled again against the cuffs. This time it had an effect, the one of slightly shaking her clamps. The cuffs, of course, stayed in place.

Mercy whimpered as the clamps moved around. That hurt a bit.

Northstrider didn't come to her rescue, of course.

She realized she was just going to sit there and enjoy the show. And there would be a show, because the weight on the clamps shifted as she rotated, and she whimpered again.

Minutes passed as the rotation continued, tilting her sideways and beyond, blood beginning to rush to her head. Everything Mercy had was on display, but it was hard to think about anything but how her nipples were being twisted, the weight of the chain pulling the clamps in a direction that was different from the original. They burned, so she struggled, so they burned more.

On some level, Mercy knew she could stop this whole thing at any time she wanted.

Stopping was the last thing she wanted.

So she kept struggling and hurting.

She felt herself stop as she completed the rotation. Blood pounded in her ears, the clamps were twisting her nipples as the weights pulled them towards her head, and the cloth flapped uselessly between her breasts and at her back. Her legs were spread, and her pussy was bare for the world to look at.

Northstrider finally stood up again. Or stood down, as Mercy saw it, was looking at him upside-down and mostly seeing his shoes. Those shoes walked around her in a circle.

Without warning, she felt his hands grab her thighs, and his tongue attacking her clit.

She yelped into the gag, the sensation a jarring contrast to what she was feeling in her nipples.

It was nice and gentle compared to the rest of what she was feeling, but it wasn't mind-blowing oral. In fact, it didn't feel much like that at all. He was just... tasting her, exploring her with more senses now that he had her exactly the way he wanted her to be. He stopped for a bit, lightly biting her on the thighs before getting back to her pussy, running his tongue over every fold and flap like he was mapping it out. What he was doing was about him, not her.

The pain wasn't too much. The pleasure wasn't too much. The restrictions weren't too much. Mercy closed her eyes and let all of the sensations warring in her body roll over her. What happened wasn't up to her.

She floated in that absolute freedom that came from having no choices to make.

Her eyes were still closed when Northstrider stopped, and the cuffs started moving again, much faster this time.

She felt light-headed as she was raised upright. She felt her toes just barely touching the floor again, and her hands were pushed up against a wall before the cuffs locked her in place.

"Open your eyes. Watch."

Mercy obeyed, and found herself looking at her own reflection. She was bent over, standing on her toes, her hands pressed against the wall on each side of one of the large mirrors.

Her makeup was somehow not smudged, which she liked. Her lips were still solid purple, wrapped around the black gag. The chain of the clamps swung lazily between her breasts, the pain dull and familiar by now. Her eyes looked... dreamy. Unfocused.

Northstrider stood behind her, holding a knotted pair of light floggers.

Mercy wasn't sure if he needed any kind of confirmation, but she nodded to let him know she wanted him to continue.

This was where she belonged. Collared. Helpless. In pain. Beautiful.

The first flogger strike hit her lightly on the shoulder, the knots falling in a cluster of litle thuds. Another followed on the opposite shoulder a few moments later.

This wasn't hard enough to be painful at all, she thought as the blows continued to come. It was like being pelted with unusually heavy popcorn.

Which meant Northstrider was going easy on her. The floggers may have been light, but he could probably break her back with a thrown popcorn if he wanted.

She was starting to think of ways to tell him she could handle more when the intensity increased, to the point where it was just short of being painful. And every few blows, he began to hit her on the ass.

Mercy shied away by instinct, but she couldn't even move enough to foil his aim.

With no other option, she sank against the cuffs holding her safely in place as the blows got harder still, and faster, the impact of each knot now definitely hurting.

Some tension she hadn't know she had been holding melted away. There was no room for that in her mind, just the flogger rhythmically hitting her shoulders and ass.

Her skin felt hot as the blows kept raining on her, and slowly becoming loud. She could hear each swing incoming before it hit with a thunderous thud and a fresh bloom of pain.

Whoosh, thud, pain. Whoosh, thud, pain. Over and over again.

The flogging being loud was funny. She heard herself starting to giggle.

She didn't slump against her bonds any more, for that her body would have needed weight, and it didn't feel like it had any of that. Just far-away pain and Northstrider's floggers.

Mercy rode the sensation like a wave.

She was confused when the wave started to recede.

The blows started coming slower and more weakly, until they stopped altogether.

Northstrider floated her over so Mercy faced him again. He did it by the cuffs, but it felt like she was flying on wings of fire sprouting from her shoulders.

He had put away the floggers, which was rude, because Mercy could still continue. He hadn't even started on her front. The dungeon was full of toys she hadn't tried.

Northstrider peeled out her gag.

"More," was the only word she could get out. Her voice was odd.

"No."

He did not explain himself further, but went to unscrew the clamps which she had somehow managed to forget about.

The pain of blood returning to her nipples speared right through the pleasant fuzz she was feeling. That hadn't been good pain, so maybe Northstrider knew best when it came to denying her more flogging. And she didn't want to argue with him anyway.

Besides, Northstrider still had plans.

He began stripping off his shirt, his pants, and shoes. The motions were quick and efficient, not showy in the slightest.

Perfect. That meant he wanted to get to her faster.

The body he revealed was magnificent. His body tone was masculine in ways those of younger men simply couldn't be. His stomach wasn't flat, but bulging with muscle. Thick hair in all the right places.

Mercy had barely begun taking him in, his arms, his already erect cock, his chest when she was again floated off her feet and on to her back, so she formed a big hanging X.

Northstrider appeared between her legs, holding a crop and a bottle of some sort.

Mercy didn't have a great angle to look, but there was no way to miss that she was hanging at the perfect height for that cock of his.

Or for doing anything else he wanted.

Unceremoniously, he moved the fabric hanging over her pussy to the side, and slowly laid the end of the crop right on top of her clit.

Mercy bent her neck to look him in the eyes.

There was not a shred of mercy to be found there.

Mercy clamped her eyes shut as he raised the crop again.

The first strike hit her on the inner thigh. And this time there was no gag, so her scream echoed through the dungeon.

The high from the flogging earlier had receded somewhat, and the crop left a sharp line of pain along her skin.

The next hit one of her breasts, then another thigh. She let out her loudest scream yet as he tapped her on the sole of each foot.

It could not have been more than twenty blows, but the whole of her body felt criss-crossed with little lines of fire when he was done.

He never hit her on the clit as his first threat had implied.

She still jumped a bit when he touched her pussy. But all he did was to thoroughly spread lube all over her from the bottle he had held.

He raised her up just a tiny bit by her arms and collar to look her in the eye as he grabbed her hips and pushed his cock inside her. It slid in smoothly, the lube and preceding play having done its job perfectly.

Mercy's entire body was a jumble of heat, stings and hard metal cuffs against her skin, but finally being filled with cock completed the picture.

She wanted to contribute to the fucking somehow, but she was held in place by both the cuffs and his arms. He just took her as he wanted.

All Mercy could do was alternate between looking at his face and leaning her head back. She wanted to beg for something, but she wasn't sure what. The sounds that came out of her mouth surely weren't words.

Minutes passed where Mercy was feeling everything, the slowly fading pain making way for the pleasure of being penetrated.

She loved the feeling. She loved that he was taking her this way. But she wouldn't cum like this.

It was rare that she managed cumming without something directly stimulating her clit, and his hands were on her hips. Such a short distance from where she wanted them, but yet so far. With all the stimulation that had been going on, working up to an actual orgasm just wasn't happening. There was too much going on.

Mercy decided to just enjoy the ride she was getting anyway. This was everything she had wanted. Northstrider was enjoying himself. It didn't matter that it would take a miracle to make her-

Cum.

Northstrider's command came without warning.

Mercy drew in a breath and silently thanked the heavens as her body started to obey. A thousand little sparks crawled across her skin, starting in her fingers and toes and rushing inward, gathering in her core.

Time stood still for a moment.

The orgasm exploded out from somewhere deep within her, spreading to every nerve in her body in an instant. She felt Northstrider tighten his grip on her hips as she jerked around, while he kept thrusting as the orgasm rampaged through her.

For a few moments, everything was consumed by bliss.

And then she found herself breathless, and realized she had been screaming.

Mercy's body felt limp. She had had hard orgasms before, but this one had been thorough. Northstrider would have to finish whatever he wanted to do on his own, Mercy was spent. Done.

She wasn't sure if he noticed or cared. Nothing changed about his rhythm, but she heard that his breath was getting heavier.

Mercy floated in a sea of sensations as Northstrider came inside her with a low growl.

They stayed like that for a moment before felt him slide out of her. Her head was hanging at an uncomfortable angle as she was held in place by the collar, but that discomfort couldn't really penetrate the cloud of everything she was feeling.

Suddenly her cuffs slackened, replaced with arms wrapping around her.

Those arms carried her to the bed, where she was put down.

A water bottle was pushed into her hands, and she drank deeply. She hadn't realized she was parched.

A strong, hard arm pulled her close, and she snuggled up to a comfortable chest.

The room was quiet now.

So Mercy rested.

***

A few cozy minutes later, Mercy's head was still resting on Northstrider's chest. It really was at a comfortable height when lying on her side.

Her free hand played with his nearly-flaccid cock. It kept wanting to point down, so she lifted it up with a finger. It would then flop down again as soon as she released it.

Flop.

Flop.

Mercy laughed. Cocks were hilarious.

Her shoulders and butt still felt warm from the flogging, her skin stung in a few places from the crop, and her pussy felt raw.

None of this was a bad pain. She had invited it, asked for it.

She imagined this was the kind of soreness an explorer might feel after a day of climbing a mountain. It was pain, but in a way it was part of the reward for reaching the summit. It was real, but she was proud of it and making it go away would cheapen the experience. Mercy lay on her own personal mountaintop, enjoying the peace and quiet.

With Northstrider. She still hadn't untangled that one.

She glanced again over the arm cradling her, covered in tattoos rather than dragon scales. It wasn't really Northstrider. Which was good, because the actual man was a bit of an ass. This one had all the strength, confidence, and... physique, but not the violence.

Not Northstrider. Notstrider.

She should call him that to his face if she wanted another round of having her ass warmed up.

Maybe later.

"Monarch, can we stay here forever?" Mercy asked, breaking the wordless silence.

"No," Notstri... Northstrider said. "Time is fluid in this place, but you will have to wake up eventually. However, you will return."

Mercy's attention perked up. That had not been an invitation, but a command.

"And I have instructions for you to follow," he said.

There was no one around, but Northstrider whispered his will into her ear anyway.

Mercy hung on to every word, eyes wide.

Next time couldn't come soon enough.

Chapter Text

Weeks later, Mercy still had not revisited the dungeon she had built in her dreams.

Dreadgod attacks tended to get in the way of things like that.

She hadn't even had much time to so much as think about sex since the first time she had activated her newly upgraded Buzzy. She didn't want to downplay the importance of a good lay, but there had been a Dreadgod battle going on.

She had fought against the Wandering Titan and won, in a way. It had nearly killed her, and that was only to drive the monster away. She had strained herself past her limits, and ended up trapped in her own Dream of Darkness, her soul more tightly tethered to her Book than the physical world. It had taken Lindon entering the dream world to drag her out.

She had never been this close to death or spiritual ruin, even when Sophara had nearly melted her head off while she was stuck at Lowgold.

Mercy would do it again in a heartbeat. Her friends and Lindon's family had been at stake.

But having been busy with disasters on a continental scale wasn't the real reason she had avoided Buzzy. Distraction could only account for so much, she certainly would have been able to find time to masturbate in the last few days if she had really wanted to. But having had a near-death experience and a rescue by Lindon hadn't done much for her libido.

Her feelings were... complicated.

Traditional Akura Clan wisdom in situations of "post-conflict spiritual disarray" was to sit and cycle until balance was restored. She had tried that, and yet, she didn't feel a lot better. She had been pushed so far, and focusing on the sacred arts wasn't helping.

Especially because she was weaker than she had been in a while, her escape from the Dream of Darkness having again placed her at Underlord. Which she supposed was all the advancement she could really handle.

Mercy didn't feel it was fair. But the world never had been. She had certainly been reminded of that in Sacred Valley, by the horrible, petty people she had met there.

The things she had had to do to save those people, whether they liked it or not, had definitely not been fair either. Her mind still circled the event, trying to think of a way she could have pulled it off without playing straight into the most fundamental injustices of the world she lived in.

It always came down to power.

The entire experience of the last few weeks was just too much. She had been eliminated from the tournament, prompting her Mother to berate her in public. She had felt absolute, unexpected bliss with Buzzy. She had won a victory against the Wandering Titan. Dross seemed to be gone. And she had personally failed to conrol her own sacred arts to the point where she had to be rescued.

There were too many feelings inside of her to deal with, leaving her numb to all of them.

What she wanted to do was to cry at someone until those feelings could be let out, but there was no one she could subject that to. Her friends had enough on their plates without worrying about her. She had no idea how they held it together. They had gone through most of the same, after all.

So instead, Mercy just cried by herself.

Which is how she found herself in her room, crying in front of a mirror, a half-forgotten hairbrush in her hand.

She was just so alone.

This was her constant conflict. She wanted to share what she was feeling with her friends, but she didn't want to burden them with it. Her problems weren't theirs.

And she wasn't entirely sure if they could actually help. Lindon and Yerin were amazing at a number of things, but emotional intelligence was... not really one of them. Mercy might just collapse permanently if Yerin were to try one of her "no use complaining, pick up your sword" pep talks right now.

She really would have liked someone more experienced to lean on at that moment.

Her Mother and Aunt Charity were out of the question. Perhaps Uncle Fury would have understood, but he was gone. Ascended.

Eithan seemed strangely understanding sometimes, but he wasn't reliable. He was a friend and an ally, but she couldn't share her feelings with a man who never shared his true feelings in turn. There was no telling if he could even take something like this seriously. Ziel would probably listen, but she couldn't imagine him having positive input on the situation. He had his own battles to deal with.

Her mind actually wandered to Min Shuei. She didn't know the Winter Sage well, but the impression she had gotten during the tournament had been good, and Yerin's description of her had given Mercy a pretty good picture. Someone who had managed to advance close to the peak of the sacred arts without losing her ability to express her feelings somewhere along the way. It was a rarity.

Mercy wouldn't have minded someone like her in her life at all. Strong, fiercely talented and experienced. Unreserved and open. Someone who could understand Mercy's feelings, and tell her exactly what to do with them.

The Winter Sage would be able to hold Mercy in a tight embrace, stroke her hair, and whisper in her ear that everything would turn out fine. The embrace would feel like manacles wrapped in velvet, all soft skin and steel-hard muscles. The whispers would then turn more commanding as the embrace got more firm...

Something in Mercy's body gave an unfamiliar twinge, and she squashed the thought before it wandered somewhere she didn't want it to go.

But it did remind her that she did have an authority figure in her life that she hadn't turned to yet.

And clearly, had been a while, if her mind was drifting like that.

She dried off the rest of her tears, finished brushing her hair, and retrieved Buzzy before heading to bed.

Slipping under the covers, the instrument cradled against her stomach, she felt barely any apprehension. She knew what she was getting into. Probably.

It couldn't be worse than what was waiting for her in this world anyway.

Mercy extended her madra to Buzzy, and again, the world went black.

***

Mercy woke up in the dark stone dungeon, looking exactly as she remembered it. The walls were mostly covered by mirrors and sex toys, the blue that could be seen through the few windows giving the impression of being underwater. There were no visible exits.

She herself was dressed differently. Instead of the harem girl outfit she had worn on her previous visit, she was now wearing nothing but a simple skirt of purple silk. It was held in place with a knot on her left hip, leaving her leg bare. Not a single thread covered her breasts, and of course there was no underwear. Only the metal air cuffs and collar were still in place, ready to be locked in place at Northstrider's whim.

And Northstrider had left Mercy with instructions last time. It had been a while, but she had not forgotten. Hopefully.

Ignoring the bed, toys and cover this time, she knelt on the stone floor. Fortunately, it was still at least comfortably warm. She clasped her hands on the back of her neck and pushed her elbows back so her chest stuck out - and waited.

She had been told to wait until Northstrider arrived, or until she felt like her body couldn't continue. Which, seeing as how her Iron Body could maintain the position for years if necessary, effectively meant she was waiting until Northstrider deigned to show up. For a figment of her imagination, he was really rather rude.

And waiting turned out to be hard. Mercy didn't think of herself as impatient, but her mind was not cooperating.

She hadn't spent much time alone with her thoughts lately, and this gave her too much of an opportunity. What little madra she had available to her in this place was in disarray, flowing unevenly in ways that would have been more expected of a Highgold than a Lady.

Mercy was a mess. She knew it.

She couldn't fix that right there and now. She could only hope it wasn't debilitating to the point where she couldn't even live out her own fantasies. In the real world, she might not have anyone who would appreciate what she had to offer. But here, in the world which was apparently fully of her own creation, she was not about to fall short.

So Mercy knelt, and waited, making completely sure she was doing exactly as she had been instructed to. The stone floor might not have been enough to cause actual injury, but it wasn't more comfortable for her than it would have been for a Copper. But she had her instructions.

Having done exactly as Northstrider asked would only make the sex more sweet once it finally happened.

She wasn't sure what he would do, either, he hadn't made any promises last time.

Would he just fuck her? Would he hurt her again the way he had last time? Would he just restrain her and consider that enough?

Mercy had just about decided it didn't matter which it was when a blue rift opened in the world in front of her.

And once again, Northstrider stepped out.

He looked and was dressed the same as last time - he had human tattooed hands, rather than dragon arms, his dark pants where tight and his white shirt was hanging mostly open.

But his face was dark.

"Mercy. You have displeased me."

It was not what Mercy had expected to hear. His tone was hard, impossible to ignore.

She was torn between protesting and cowering to do anything he wanted to make him happy.

Mercy wasn't a doormat. She didn't just like being pushed around. But right there, right then, the strongest thing she could feel was the desire to fix whatever she had done to displease Northstrider.

Mercy's emotions might have been a mess, but there was certainly no use fighting them, she thought as she lowered her forehead to the ground.

"Honored Monarch," she said mostly to the ground, "did I not follow your instructions correctly?"

"Your behavior here has been acceptable. It is your failures in life which leave me dissatisfied. When at long last you come to me, you do so with your soul weak and burdened."

She was glad her face was pressed against the floor so Northstrider wouldn't be able to look her in the eye.

"I... did everything in my power, honored Monarch. I pushed against and surpassed my limits. I saved... millions of people."

Her own words felt hollow to her. They were true, but it wasn't what she felt. It wasn't what she had felt any point since she was in Sacred Valley.

"It just wasn't enough," she forced herself to say.

"Your difficulties in achieving what you needed to do are irrelevant. You know that the world does not care about what you can do, or what is possible. What matters is what whether you succeed or fail. You have been taught this, this is the truth that carried you past your peers at Gold. And now, the undeniable facts are that you failed," Northstrider said, without a shred of mercy. "And you will count out the ways in you've failed. I will listen and decide your punishments."

Mercy really wished her subconscious had picked a slightly less sadistic persona to emulate.

"Please, Monarch, don't make me do that." There was no way she could refuse outright, but she could beg.

"It is what is necessary," he said. "Your many failures are worthy of punishment. You know this to be true, and so your soul is weighed down by shame. Once punishment has been given, you will be able to leave your failure behind you." His words were a declaration, said with absolute certainty. "Yes. This is approach is the one you need."

"Now look me in the eye as you list out the faults that caused you to arrive at my chamber in this state. I will not repeat my instructions again."

Mercy thought it would have been easier if he had just dragged her up by her collar and used his authority to force her to speak. That way she could pretend she didn't have a choice.

But she had already chosen. She could choose, but there was only one choice she actually wanted to make.

Inch by inch, Mercy raised her eyes to meet his. His hard, draconic eyes which left no more room for negotiation. They just bored into her soul, laying her even more bare than she actually was.

She hated that.

She hated that, didn't she?

Regardless, there was nothing to do but to start confessing. Confessing everything that had gone wrong in the real world.

"I am ashamed... because I fell behind my friends in advancement," she forced out.

It felt like long ago, but Lindon, Yerin and herself had all advanced to Underlord at the same time. Since then, Yerin had won the Uncrowned King tournament, knocking out Sophara, who had knocked out Mercy. Both Mercy and Lindon had advanced to Overlord. And both had progressed in other, unprecedented ways.

Mercy was still just an Underlord. Intellectually, she knew she had as much power as she could handle at the moment, but it didn't feel good any more.

Northstrider nodded, acknowledging her admission.

"Correct. Your comparison to your teammates brings you shame. Further, your shame is compounded by the fact that you proudly presumed that the successes of your youth would mean you could keep up with the best. This pride is now wounded."

The thought had crossed Mercy's mind. Of course Northstrider would figure it out.

It hurt.

She wished she had something to drown it out.

"Monarch, will you punish me now?"

"No. We continue once you have finished listing out the elements of your shame. And you have not finished."

Mercy tried her best not to flinch, and continued.

"I am ashamed... because I failed to control my power."

She had stretched herself past her limits, maintaining her power as an Overlord for as long as she had. It hadn't been stable, eventually collapsing to the point where her spirit was more tightly anchored to her Book than her own body.

It was a critical failure of her mastery of her sacred arts. She was lucky to be "only" stuck at Underlord, the consequences could easily have been more severe.

"Correct. Further, you made the error of concealing your weakness from your teammates, risking their lives by keeping them ignorant."

Mercy looked down, tears forming in her eyes. That was a thought she had been trying to avoid.

"Look me in the eye, Mercy. Continue."

Northstrider was suddenly holding a long, slender cane of light wood. He couldn't start using it soon enough, if it meant she got a break from this.

But she knew she wasn't finished.

"I am ashamed... because I had to be rescued. Lindon had to drag me out of my own book."

"Incorrect. You would have done the same for your teammates, regardless of risk. This is a part of the bond you share, and you are not ashamed of it." He lowered himself on one knee, to bring his face close to her level. "You are avoiding your heaviest burden."

Mercy was doing that. She didn't want to say it out loud. Not here. Not anywhere.

"Please..."

Northstrider grabbed her by the chin. His grip was light, but she could feel that his strength was iron. He didn't need to speak any threats.

There was an burden on her soul. And now she was required to speak it out loud.

"I am ashamed... because I acted like my Mother."

It had been the only way to get the Li clan to mobilize in time. Threatening them, terrifying them with a display of power and authority that left the entire clan trembling.

It was exactly what her Mother would have done. It worked perfectly. Mercy was sure there should have been a gentler solution, but she hadn't been able to find any.

She had saved so many people with that maneuver. And she couldn't get the bitter taste of it out of her mouth.

"Correct. You went against your nature when saving those people, which tortures your spirit regardless of the outcome."

She felt tears streaming down her face. And Northstrider wasn't done.

"Even if you would do it again, you can not forgive yourself for it," he said. "But I can. This forgiveness is mine to give."

Northstrider stood up slowly, guiding Mercy by to stand up as he did so.

"Are you ready for your punishment, Mercy?"

She nodded.

She could hardly wait.

Her cuffs sprang to life as they had last time, dragging her wrists up and her legs apart until she was hanging by the arms, standing on her toes. Her Iron Body was strong enough to maintain this position indefinitely, but being stretched out like this left her with little room to wiggle.

Northstrider unceremoneously undid the knot holding her outfit in place, discarding it and taking up position behind her.

He was aiming the cane straight at her now fully naked ass. She wasn't right in front of a mirror, but through those which were spread around the chamber she could see him lining up the first blow, pale wood laid across two paler butt cheeks.

And she could sense him reinforcing the cane with madra.

This was all the warning she got before Northstrider smacked her across her butt with a crack that echoed through the room, immediately followed by Mercy's own involuntary scream.

There was no pleasant build-up like there had been last time. This was just pain. Hard and intense.

She could see one precise horizontal line blossoming in red across her butt.

Northstrider was already lining up the next blow.

It hit just as hard and loud, parallel to the first, and Mercy screamed again.

This wasn't fun, she didn't want this.

"Monarch, please..." she started to beg.

He stopped, moving in front of her. He looked stern even for his unflappable self, nothing indicating that he was enjoying himself.

Just as she shouldn't be having fun.

She didn't just want this.

Mercy needed this.

"... please continue until I have been punished to your most stringent standards," she said.

She would probably regret saying that.

But Northstrider nodded, and took up position behind her again.

The next blow was equally hard, but Mercy only whimpered.

She deserved this.

The blows kept coming, hard and delivered without hesitation. They were regular, but Northstrider waited long enough in between them for Mercy to feel each individually, every one of them biting as badly as the first. There was no pleasant drifting off into a sea of sensations. She struggled involuntarily, but the little movement allowed by her cuffs wasn't nearly enough to foil Northstrider's aim.

Mercy felt the full force of Northstrider's caning, but she forced her breathing into rhythm. Pain radiated from her ass with increasing intensity as her ass was hit over and over again, new stripes appearing overlapping the first.

Mercy took that pain, breathed it in, picturing it as a new kind of madra she could cycle for her own benefit. It burned and stung, scraping out everything else she was feeling - the precarious way she was standing on her toes, the weight of her arms and legs against the cuffs.

And this pain even started to drown out the pain she had been carrying around in her soul.

Mercy focused on this new pain to the exclusion of all else, and she was starting to feel the world drop out from around her when Northstrider suddenly stopped.

"You are forgiven for not keeping up with Lindon and Yerin. Your advancement is great in its own right, and your contribution is valued by all who are worthy of enjoying it," he declared.

Mercy nearly teared up again at that.

She was about to thank him when Northstrider started again, hitting her across the back of the thighs.

Mercy's ass felt like she had sat on a hot grill, but the sting of being hit in a new, more sensitive place caused her to yelp all over again.

She resumed her breathing, trying to match it to Northstrider's blows. She wouldn't enjoy this directly. But she would accept this. Regardless of how much it hurt.

Short little screams ripped out of her, and she didn't even try to hold them back.

This was her pain now. She would feel all of it.

And so the chamber was filled with the sounds of Northstrider's blows and Mercy's screams.

Mercy's ass and thighs bloomed with pain, and despite the nonexistent warmup, she found herself starting to drift. The screams felt as if they were coming from somewhere else, from someone else's throat.

It may have gone on for minutes before Northstrider stopped.

"You are forgiven for losing control of your spirit. The risk you took was calculated, and you have learned from the experience."

Mercy wanted to thank him, but it came out as a whisper. Her breath was still regular, but heavy. Her ass still felt like it was on fire, and the even fresher bruises on the back of her thighs stung so badly she was sure they were bleeding.

She looked around to try to get a view.

She wasn't bleeding, but everything from her ass to knee was covered in deep, bruised stripes, rapidly turning black and purple.

Family colors. Mercy would have laughed if she wasn't in so much pain.

Also, her punishment wasn't over.

Northstrider turned Mercy around so she was facing him, the air cuffs pulling her around like a doll.

He calmly looked her up and down, deciding where to strike her. He looked like dealing out punishment was something he did every day. The cane was still in his hand, and even if he hadn't worked up a sweat by hitting her, Mercy was acutely aware of how the veins in his arms had become more visible. The hardness in his face was enough to send shivers through her body.

Coming to a decision, Northstrider laid the cane across the front of her thighs, and used the cuffs to force her legs apart.

Mercy clamped her eyes shut before the first hit came.

It might not have been any harder than those which came before, but it stung like a knife when it hit the more sensitive skin of her front.

Mercy squealed and again tried to move out of the way, but she was even more firmly stuck in place than before, and the next blow hit completely unhindered.

Her eyes were still closed, but she felt it as Northstrider grabbed her by the hair and hold her in place.

She still jerked around at the next blow, which changed nothing but that she hurt her scalp too as she tried to move her head. His grasp, of course, was as solid as iron.

Which allowed her to finally accept that there was nothing to do but to take it.

The pain kept coming, but Mercy found her body going slack, held in place by nothing but the cuffs and Northstrider's grip on her hair.

"I'm... sorry..." Mercy heard herself mumbling. She wasn't really sure what for or why, but she was sorry.

She had been for a while. For everything

The blows rained over the front of her thighs, occasionally making it to her inner thighs, each of them burning, cutting, stinging.

All of them burning away her shame. There was nothing she could do to get away from the pain. There had also been nothing she could have done differently at the time.

Mercy floated around in this pain, nothing existing but the rhythmic striking of her thighs and the duller backdrop of what her backside had already endured.

She came to when Northstrider stopped. It felt sudden, as if the absence of pain was somehow wrong.

"You are forgiven for acting like your Mother when saving the Li clan. The examples you have been shown in life do not define who you are." He stopped for a moment. "She is Malice. You are Mercy. Remember that."

The words felt important, but Mercy wasn't in a state to dwell on it. The entire lower half of her body hurt too bad.

But she felt light, and free. Even if she was still completely stuck in place by the cuffs. Northstrider had let go of her hair at some point, though.

"Thank you, honored Monarch. I... needed that," she managed to get out.

Northstrider nodded, still acting as if this was all just a regular day's work for him. The man was simply infuriatingly composed. Almost as infuriating as how much she liked it.

Mercy felt her cuffs go slack, and float off her body. She felt even more naked without them, but it allowed her freedom of movement again.

She wasn't quite ready to be that free, though. She moved forward to hug Northstrider, burying her face in the chest hair exposed by his half-open shirt.

She was still naked and in significant pain from the waist down, he was still fully dressed, but it felt completely right when he slowly hugged her back. It was like being wrapped in a cocoon of muscle. A hairy cocoon of muscle. Extremely safe.

"Really, thank you. That was great," she said again, finding a smile on her face. Things were better now.

"Was?" Northstrider rumbled back.

"That was just your necessary punishment. My fun has not yet started."

Mercy's eyes widened, but the smile did not leave her face.

It also didn't leave her face as he loosened his embrace to pinch her nipples instead. Hard.

"You are here to please me. Do not forget that, Mercy."

She nodded eagerly as he twisted her nipples further and used them to pull her whole body upwards.

"I am going to do whatever I want to your body," he growled. "Are you looking forward to it?"

"Yes, Monarch!" Mercy squeaked as she struggled against the pull on her nipples.

"Good. Get on the bed, raise your legs in the air, and spread them," Northstrider said, and let her go.

Mercy moaned in pain as blood rushed back to her nipples, and scrambled to obey, hurrying to the bed at the center of the chamber.

It hurt worse when she sat on the bed. Not even silk sheets were comfortable when your ass was this bruised.

While Northstrider walked around the room collecting more toys, she got into position on the edge of the bed.

She raised her legs straight into the air, and with just a moment's hesitation, spread them.

By the time she did, Northstrider was there, starting to undress.

They faced each other. The view of him slowly peeling off his clothes to reveal the muscles of his body was framed by her severely bruised legs. In turn, she knew he would be greeted with an absolutely uninterrupted look at her pussy, ass and thighs.

Northstrider finished stripping down, revealing his cock, already half erect.

He was holding a dark leather flogger in one hand and a vivid green orgasm rod in the other.

To Mercy's absolute lack of surprise, he brought the flogger down on her first, striking her across one breast.

The flogger was relatively lightweight. It was pain, but compared to what she had been through earlier, it was barely a tickle.

Northstrider kept striking her body as she kept herself still and exposed, just gasping when he hit a particularly sensitive spot.

It was slow, deliberate, and went on for a while. It was easy for Mercy to enjoy this sensation. It was restrained. It was erotic.

It was foreplay, she thought as he struck her pussy straight on, the blow just being a bit too hard to feel exactly nice.

The sting of the flogger's last hit on her pussy had barely faded when he put the flogger down, and the sensation was replaced by him kneeling at the foot of the bed to lick her pussy.

He grabbed her by her thighs, and ate her out. His fingers dug painfully into her bruises, and his face felt hard and rough, even if he was freshly shaven. His tongue pressured her clit, and she could feel his teeth against her labia.

Mercy was having her pussy eaten, but completely on Northstrider's terms.

She wouldn't have had it any other way. It was working, she thought as she struggled to maintain position. She had been asked to keep her legs up.

Or, it was almost working. Theoretically, Mercy liked that Northstrider was doing what he liked to do rather than trying to push her over the edge, but it still left her a bit short of an actual orgasm.

She lowered her legs down on his shoulders, wincing just a bit as the weight of her bruised thighs settled on him, and put her hands on his head. If he wanted to punish her for moving, well, that might have been fun too.

She didn't actually try to direct him by pushing him, not that she would have had a chance of moving his head anyway. She just wanted to feel him being a bit closer.

If he wanted to let her cum, he'd make her cum, she thought as she tried her best to wrap all her limbs around him.

And Mercy relaxed. What would happen would happen. She would enjoy what he gave her and be thankful for it.

But she was even more thankful when she felt him reach for the orgasm rod again, which he had left laying by their side. He pried himself free of her, and pointed the rod at her abdomen, right at her core.

Orgasm rods were actually rather simple toys. Unlike toys such as the original Buzzy, orgasm rods used nothing but life madra to make the person on the receiving end cum as fast as possible. Mercy had never tried one herself, orgasm rods were very difficult to use alone. Precise aim didn't matter very much, any skin contact would suffice, but they did require the user to retain madra control even while in the middle of an orgasm.

Northstrider placed his other hand around Mercy's throat. He did not squeeze, but neither was she going to move.

Mercy's eyes shot open as she suddenly remembered that the effectiveness of orgasm rods scaled with the power of the one using them.

And she was fucking a Monarch.

Wordlessly, Northstrider charged the rod, which gave off an electric-sounding whine. The rods weren't supposed to do that when used by mere Lords or Golds.

Mercy grabbed the arm which was holding her by the throat. She didn't want Northstrider to stop, she just needed to hold on to something while -

the orgasm hit Mercy with the force and subtlety of a sledgehammer as Northstrider discharged the rod straight into her core.

Mercy's back arched as her body dissolved into pleasure, and her vision filled with a thousand dancing stars. She would have screamed, but she had no breath.

It was over too quickly, but Northstrider kept going.

He let go of her throat and grabbed Mercy by the hair again, flipping her around so that she was on all fours.

She felt Northstrider aim his cock at her slit. It had the distinct feel of having been lubed, not that she thought it would be likely to be necessary.

He thrust forward and pulled her back by her hair at the same time, sliding easily into her. Her ass hurt deliciously as his hips hit her from behind.

Mercy moaned as he took her, thrusting hard.

Her eyes wandered, and found a mirror. Her eyes looked surprisingly unfocused, and the hair that wasn't wrapped around his fist had become hopelessly disheveled. She looked small next to him, light-skinned, open-mouthed and flushed. The image of a muscle-bound god and his eager sex toy.

She saw herself smile weakly as she saw he was still holding the orgasm rod.

Mercy closed her eyes, or at least forgot to keep them open, as Northstrider kept thrusting. Her scalp hurt where he held her hair, her ass hurt where his hips bounced off her, and all the lube in the world wouldn't have made the rough pounding he was giving her actually comfortable.

She thought it was almost perfect.

It was perfect when she heard the electric whining of Northstrider charging the orgasm rod again, this time pushed into the small of her back.

The second orgasm punched through her body with the exact same intensity as the first, crushing down on her like a dropped bag of bricks.

She her muscles didn't work as they should, and Mercy realized that she had somehow fallen flat on her stomach. She also couldn't see right, and it took her a moment to realize her eyes were blocked by own hair.

Her body was alive with pleasure turned to pain and pain turned to pleasure. She couldn't tell one from another any more. And utterly out of her conscious control, as Northstrider grabbed her by the ass and flippped her around once again, lifting her up as if she weighed nothing.

He brought her down in a sitting position, face to face with him. "Lotus sex position," some distant part of her brain told her as she was lowered down on his cock, her chest scraping roughly against his.

His arms were wrapped around her, one still holding the orgasm rod flat against her back, the other holding her bruised butt-cheek in his palm. One lube-wet finger right ended up right next to her asshole.

She wanted even more.

Mercy wrapped her arms and legs around him, and ground herself down as hard as her leverage allowed. Northstrider's cock was pushed painfully deep inside her pussy, and she felt a single knuckle of his thick finger push into her ass.

Mercy finally had her fill of him.

Her mouth hung open and her hair got in her face as Northstrider started moving her up and down, most of her weight on the hand which was on and in her ass.

He used her whole body to stroke himself, slowly at first, then harder and more roughly as his breath got heavier.

Their breath mixed together, harder with every second. Mercy thought about kissing him, but decided to bite down on his shoulder instead. It felt like she would get more of him that way.

They fucked like that, hard but locked in each others' embrace, until Northstrider came inside her with a massive grunt. He squeezed her like he was trying to get her to burst, and she squeezed back in turn.

Mercy felt light-headed as she felt his cock start to slacken inside of her. Northstrider's hard face was right next to hers, but it felt like she was somewhere far away.

It didn't feel as if there was anything she could do when he brought the orgasm round around again, this time right next to her face.

Such an innocuous thing, just a straight stick of green material.

On a whim, she bit on it, wrapped her lips around it.

It was difficult for her to focus, and her hair was in her eyes anyway. So she just closed them when she started hearing the orgasm rod power up again.

Mercy came like a thunderclap one last time, this time slammed into her skull, and the world drifted away.

***

Mercy was the little spoon when she started thinking of her surroundings again.

Such a little spoon. Northstrider's arms were wrapped around her again, nice and snug. She could feel his semi-flaccid cock resting against her naked ass.

Her naked and very bruised ass.

She again wondered how she had ended up here.

It felt right. It was what she had needed. But it also wasn't everything.

The feel of Northstrider's body against hers was perfect.

That was all it was, though.

Despite everything, Buzzy could only create experiences and sensations.

Not love. She didn't love even this perfected version of Northstrider. He was just a really good fuck.

She felt ever so slightly guilty about that.

So Mercy decided to ask a bit more. Even an imaginary man surely at least deserved some conversation afterwards.

"Monarch... this was wonderful. How... how do you feel?"

Something rumbled deep in his chest at that. It tickled her a bit.

"I feel like taking another piece of your ass," he said, squeezing her tight.

Mercy giggled.

Just play and fucking for as long as it was fun, then.

For now, that was more than enough for Mercy.

Chapter Text

Mercy had read the document in front of her more times than was strictly necessary. She understood the content perfectly well.

The Starflower region was under pressure from rogue sacred beasts, disturbed by the passage of the Bleeding Phoenix long ago. At least it felt like long ago, but the world had still barely recovered from the disaster that was its awakening. In normal times, that alone should have been enough trouble for a generation.

But trouble remained, even though this time, the solution was simple. An Overlord needed to be re-deployed from a neighboring region to defend Starflower before being overrun. The Overlord in question was currently positioned in a town of no particular note, housing some hundred thousand people, including no Lords other than the Overlord. He was a particular and unique prodigy of his path who, after a life of adventure, had returned to the town of his birth to live out his days in peace. As much peace as the oaths he had sworn to the Akura clan would allow.

Mercy could not allow him to remain. The town would have to be evacuated, without Lord-stage defenders it was sure to fall to those same rogue sacred beasts as were plaguing Starflower. People would lose their homes, possessions, and some would not survive the trip. The Akura clan would provide support for the refugees, but their lives would still never be the same.

And yet it was all outweighed by the fact that commanding the Overlord to move would save the lives of millions.

The strategy was sound, and the reasoning was exhaustively laid out on the pages in front of Mercy. It was the best option, and the Akura clan generals were no doubt enacting it already. But they needed the approval of a head family member to make it official.

Mercy signed the document, ruining the lives of thousands to save millions. It was clearly the right thing to do, but it still chilled her gut.

She called for a messenger to deliver the signed documents, and began packing up the rest of the documents for the night. It was getting late, and none of the others she had yet to go through were similarly urgent. She knew she'd have to try to go to sleep soon, even if she knew the stack of documents would be bigger in the morning. Sleeping well had been difficult in the weeks since the fight with the Wandering Titan.

She had just put away the last pages when she heard a knock on her open office door.

Mercy couldn't help but smile when she saw it was Pride. The memory of him more dead than alive in bed was still fresh, and she was happy just to see him up and about.

"Hi, Pride! Stop just standing there, you know you don't need permission to come in," she called to him.

"It's the principle of the thing. You're too important to barge in on, even by me." he said. For Pride, of course it was. But he did come in.

"You shouldn't be working this late, Mercy. And you look terrible," he said. Between other siblings, Mercy supposed this would be the start of some kind of banter, but that wasn't in Pride's nature. If he said she looked terrible, then she probably did. Makeup could only hide so much stress.

"Yeah, being back in the family business is... a lot," she said. Pride knew, of course, having his own duties, as well as them having had this talk before. He thought she was pushing herself too hard.

As Mercy saw it, had been behind on pulling her weight in the family for a long time, and was working overtime to catch up. "I know you want to help, Pride, but there's only so much you can do."

Mercy didn't need to say it out loud, but certain major decisions were entrusted to her which just wouldn't carry the same weight if carried out by Pride.

"I know," he said. His face was as neutral as always, but Mercy could tell that it weighed on him. That he wanted to do more.

He really was such a kind man. Mercy would never understand how others just saw the admittedly gruff exterior.

"Look, Mercy. I have one real job in this family. And that's to keep you safe," he said. "Right now, you trying to do all this work by yourself is your biggest danger."

His concern warmed Mercy's heart, but the facts remained. "But you still can't do this for me," she said.

"No, I can't. No one can. But you still don't need to do this alone." Pride drew a deep breath. "You need your friends. The Uncrowned Queen and the Void Sage, specifically."

That evoked a twinge of sadness in Mercy's stomach. She missed them dearly. But they were half a continent away.

And this was all rather surprising coming from Pride.

"Didn't you say they were a dangerous bunch of reckless dum-dums who were going to get me killed on some harebrained adventure?" she asked.

"I did not say they were "dum-dums". You're paraphrasing. But yes, I think they're dangerous. I don't like them and they're risky company to keep. But being around them also gives you more energy than I've ever seen in you, and you need that right now."

"You're not wrong," Mercy said. "But they are trying to form a Sect, and I'm needed here. And Lindon may be a Sage now, but he still wouldn't be able to move this distance even if I could ask." For now.

"No, he can't. But Aunt Charity can."

"Aunt Charity has things to do other than to transport me across the continent just because..."

Mercy didn't want to finish the sentence. She clamped her hands over her mouth before she said too much.

Pride barely even raised an eyebrow. Mercy could tell she wouldn't get away with not saying it.

"... just because I'm lonely and I miss them way more than I thought I would and I'm not sure how I'll hold it together for another day as things are now." There, she said it.

"See? Not so hard," Pride said. " Now, Aunt Charity really is busy, but she has time she can allocate. And she owes me a favor from the Uncrowned King tournament."

"That's a favor which you should use for your advancement, Pride."

"I'm an Underlord. And I'll be a young Underlord for another decade. Unlike what your friends would have you believe, advancement does not need to be rushed. What can't wait is this situation."

"Pride, you can't..."

"I asked her before I came here. If you refuse to go, we can rearrange, but she is expecting you to have packed up this work and be ready to go tomorrow."

Mercy teared up and flung her arms around Pride. Like always, he was slow to react and embrace her back, but she knew he didn't actually mind.

"Thank you, Pride. This gift means more to me than you know."

"I know exactly how much it means to you. That's why I'm doing it," he wheezed. Maybe she should squeeze less hard.

"Look, Mercy, I'm happy do this. I'm just going to ask you to do one thing," he said after disentangling himself from her arms.

"Of course!"

"Don't ever tell Lindon it was me."

Mercy grinned from ear to ear. "Don't worry, I won't tell them that you're actually a good person."

Pride snorted.

Mercy jumped up and down and hugged him again, eliciting another wheeze.

They said their goodbyes, but Mercy's smile didn't fade the whole time she prepared for bed.

She was going to see her friends again. Tomorrow.

She hadn't even realized how much she missed them. But now when she was just about to reunited with them, she felt the gap in her heart where they should be all the more keenly. Tomorrow couldn't come soon enough.

How strongly she felt it was especially surprising because it wasn't as if she had been completely without... companionship in recent weeks. She had been spending nearly every night with Buzzy.

But Buzzy wasn't a real friend. The imaginary version of Northstrider certainly wasn't either.

She didn't even think of her imaginary Northstrider as her imaginary boyfriend. Buzzy was great at pleasure, but he didn't even seem to be trying for love.

Northstrider was effectively a stranger she was calling up every night. Mercy thought she should feel guilty about treating someone like that, but even her empathy could only stretch so far.

But the imaginary sex with the imaginary stranger not fulfilling all her needs also wasn't exactly a reason to stop doing it. She wasn't even particuarly horny tonight, but she wasn't about to break her streak.

Mercy dove under the covers with Buzzy in hand, and, giggling just a little bit, prepared to see what was store for her.

***

Mercy came to in a place which she didn't recognize, but even that feeling was becoming familiar.

Northstrider had been a constant presence in her dreams, but the setting and her outfits had changed from time. Their more bondage-and-pain focused encounters had been in his underwater dungeon, but there had been other locations and scenarios.

Once, he had been a pirate captain she had needed to please in every possible way or else. Mercy had worked her best, and not found out "what else".

Another time, when she had been particularly worked up after a few nights without Buzzy, Northstrider had just fucked her brains out on a bed which she somehow knew was her Mother's. She really didn't know what was up with that. She had made sure not to miss a single night since, she didn't need Buzzy to try that hard.

This time she was in an old-fashioned but luxurious suite. A single large window overlooked a bamboo forest, but the lighting was otherwise muted and the floors were covered in soft but firm straw mats. Tapestries and shelves with sex toys which she recognized from the dungeon covered the walls, arranged as tastefully as such things could be. A large divan fit for a Monarch dominated the center of the room.

Mercy herself was wearing some kind of dress tonight, and she rushed over to the nearest mirror to take a look.

Her makeup was muted and natural-looking tonight, not something to draw attention. The dress rather traditional-looking black servant's dress, with wide sleeves, unadorned and held in place with a single knotted belt. She was naked underneath save for black, knee-high socks, which wasn't exactly in line with tradition. But this was her sex fantasy after all. Allowances could be made for ease of access.

Another break from tradition was that her metal collar was still locked in place, for which she was grateful. Being without that would have made her feel truly naked.

It took Mercy a minute to remember the original source of the outfit. It was from a trip she had taken to a guest house when she was younger, the suite she was in right now was probably based on it as well. Uncle Fury had taken her and Pride there, and her memories of it were fond even if Fury had had to leave halfway through due to some crisis or another.

The dress was from her assigned servant girl in that guest house. Mercy could remember how nice she had been. How well she had treated everyone. How beautiful she was. That Mercy had wanted to be her once she grew up. Mercy had told Uncle Fury as much, and his explanation of "you can't be a house servant because you're Mother's daughter" really hadn't done much to dissuade her at the time.

Mercy felt slightly ashamed that she couldn't remember the servant girl's name. It had just been too long.

She hoped she was doing well.

Well, all she was taking from her now was inspiration. Mercy hoped she wouldn't mind, because Mercy had been handed her own tasks to perform here.

She walked over to the shelf of butt plugs, untied her dress, and picked out the third smallest from the set of six. It was one size larger than she had used before, but Northstrider had instructed her to train herself, so she would.

The plug wasn't exactly enormous like the last three were, but it was still made of unyielding metal and felt intimidatingly heavy in her hand.

Mercy swallowed once before starting to lube it.

She slid it in without much trouble, after only one mildly uncomfortable moment before it settled. It didn't feel as tight as expected, but the weight of it still made sure she didn't forget about it.

As she re-tied her dress, Mercy wondered what exactly the ultimate goal of this training was. Northstrider wasn't exactly one to elaborate. Perhaps he was just working up to the anal sex which they hadn't had yet, but he had given no hints, and Mercy didn't want to ask. Maybe he was going to spring it on her one day.

Maybe he'd make her beg for it. The bastard. The incredible, toe-curling, powerful bastard.

Plug jostling her with every step, she walked over to the tea set. She had another task to do tonight.

The water heating script of the tea kettle was absolutely archaic. A modern script would allow anyone to feed it just a bit of madra, and the script would heat the water in a reasonable amount of time without intervention, and vent excess madra. This script would require constant attention - too little and the water wouldn't boil, too much and the water would explode into a cloud of scalding mist. A diligent enough Copper could do it, but it would require focus and madra control.

So Mercy knelt next to the tea set and started boiling water. Northstrider had said he wanted it ready when he arrived.

Reaching a boil was no trouble at all, but keeping it there was actually difficult. Mercy's mind tended to wander.

She really was so tired from her work. Her muscles weren't tight from the stress here, but her spirit still remembered. There were so many people depending on her. So many lives.

Mercy noticed the simmer had died down, and she refocused. She was not about to disappoint by not being ready to serve the tea at a moment's notice.

One thought at a time, she let go of the rest of the world as she made the kettle do its work.

She smiled as she managed to sustain the boil so that it produced just exactly the right stream of steam. The kettle didn't whistle, but the steam twisted up in happy little patterns.

Her smile got even wider as the world tore, and Northstrider stepped in.

He was glorious. He looked slightly tired as he did most of the time, but that only served as a reminder that this was a man who moved mountains, literally if necessary. It was obvious even when he was wearing rags, which he didn't at that time - it was dark pants and a white shirt again.

"Hello, Monarch!" Mercy called to him from where she knelt before setting out to actually make the tea. "I hope you've had a great day!" He wasn't in the habit of answering questions about his day, but she hoped it had been good regardless.

Northstrider settled down on the divan with a dream tablet as she worked. She didn't have Pride's precision with tea, but she would do a good job even if it took her a bit longer. And the butt plug was more than enough to make it fun.

She set the single cup in front of him, and knelt at the foot of the divan.

The moments until he picked up the cup felt like an hour.

He gave her a single nod after taking the first sip, and Mercy felt a knot of anxiety in her stomach untie itself and be replaced with pride. She had done a good job with the tea.

And now she had to do... nothing at all. He hadn't called on her. There were no tasks he had asked her to do. No one had asked her to do anything. She couldn't even cycle effectively in here.

So for a few wonderful minutes, Northstrider just drank the tea she had made for him, and she knelt, and breathed out some of the stress that had been clogging up her spirit.

Mercy still jumped to remove his cup the moment he finished.

"Anything I can do for you right now, Monarch?" she asked after putting the cup away.

"Massage," he said, and stripped off his shirt. It was his first word since he entered.

Mercy took the shirt, folded it, put it to the side, and moved to Northstrider's shoulders. She wasn't a trained masseuse, but it didn't take an expert to find the tension in the shoulders of a man who used them to carry so much of the weight of the world. And her ever-slick hands were well suited to the task.

What was difficult were Northstrider's muscles. She worked his shoulders the best she could, but determining which of the hardness she felt was due to muscle knots and which was just the steel-hard muscles of a particularly impressive Herald body was a hard task. One she enjoyed on a few different levels.

She let her hands drift over his clavicles and had to remind herself that this was supposed to be a massage, not a fondling.

Northstrider just kept reading his dream tablet. Mercy found herself feeling very warm inside, and decided to take it as a sign.

"Monarch, the heat is getting to me. Would it please you if I took off my dress?" she whispered in his ear.

"Do it. And add nipple clamps," he said with no hesitation whatsoever.

"Of course, Monarch," she said, and made sure to move into his view while untying the dress and stripping down to her knee-high socks. Those could stay, she decided.

That made him put on the dream tablet.

She walked to the shelf of nipple clamps, and picked out a screw-tightened pair connected by a weighed chain which Northstrider had used on her during their first encounter.

After putting them on, she looked up and found Northstrider still watching from where he lay on the divan.

She took it as motivation to tighten each clamp just a bit more, and she suppressed a hiss as their bite intensified.

Mercy walked back to him slowly, plug ever-present in her ass and painfully tight clamps hanging from her nipples.

She straddled him. "It's time to work on your chest, Monarch."

Mercy slid her hands over his pectorals, slowly and firmly. Nothing about this was likely to be a useful massage technique. She didn't care. She just wanted to touch his body. Everywhere. Preferably to have his body in her. Everywhere in her. Anywhere it pleased him.

Her hands drifted down to Northstrider's rock-hard abdomen, and she found herself grinding down at nothing but the loose fabric of his pants. She felt his stiffening cock through them - so close, but yet so far.

Mercy wanted more.

"Monarch," she said, leaning forward so the chain dangling from her nipples lay against his chest, "is there anything I can do to enhance your pleasure?"

What she wanted to ask him for was more of his body, inside of her. But she wanted to make it about him even more.

He looked at her for a moment, draconic eyes drilling into her. He reached out with one hand to touch the chain hanging from her nipples.

"Yes, you can. Lubricate the second largest plug, and bring it here," he said.

Mercy's eyes widened as she processed what she had just heard.

"The... second largest, Monarch?" she squeezed out. It was two levels above what she had been afraid to fit that day.

His gaze hardened and his fist tightened painfully on her nipple chain.

Northstrider did not appreciate having to repeat himself.

"Of course, Monarch," Mercy said, and drifted over to the shelf of plugs.

Disobedience was of course not an option. Even when it was painful. Perhaps especially when it was painful.

She picked up the plug, and marveled at its size. It was nearly the size of her fist. The one she had in her right now looked like a slim little pen in comparison. A cute little fun reminder, whereas this would be a challenge.

Mercy slathered the thing in lube, as thick as she could make it without it dripping everywhere. It would be necessary.

Slowly, hesitantly, she walked back to Northstrider, who had stripped off his pants and sat naked, with his back straight and his cock half-mast between open legs.

Mercy knelt before him and presented the plug to him held with both hands.

"As you requested, Monarch," she said. She could hear the tremble in her own voice.

Northstrider took the plug from her, and she closed her eyes.

She was afraid. But she trusted him.

Her spirit relaxed further. Whatever would come would come.

Mercy heard some shuffling and breathing from Northstrider before she felt a large had cupping her cheek.

"Are you ready?"

Mercy nodded. If he said she could do this, she could.

"Begin."

Mercy opened her eyes.

Northstrider sat in front of her at the very edge of the divan, now showing the most intense erection she had ever seen on a man, and the unmistakable base of the massive plug just barely visible from where it jutted from his own ass.

Mercy's apprehension melted as she realized had just wanted it for himself, her task had just been to bring it.

The first task, that is. He had just issued a new one.

Mercy eagerly impaled her mouth on his cock.

She moved a bit too quickly. As rock-solid as his cock was, it hit the back of her throat in an instant, threatening to make her gag. Cocks usually had more flex to it than this, but clearly the plug was working for him.

Mercy pushed the gag reflex down and focused on her breathing.

She had wanted him inside of her, and she was getting her wish. She should take her time with this.

Mercy clamped her arms around Northstrider's thighs and looked him in the eye as she pushed his cock deep into her mouth again, daring him to react.

She got her wish. Northstrider groaned, closed his eyes and leaned back even before Mercy had gotten all of his cock in.

She moved her head back and forth, maintaining as much pressure as she could. She loved the feeling of him filling her mouth, and judging by the low rumbling coming from his chest, he had no complaints either.

Mercy ran her hands around his thighs as she worked, admiring his sheer solidity. It was a strength that went beyond his muscles and the power of his spirit. It was his Authority she was feeling, she was sure. This was a man who could weather everything and do anything. And he had chosen her to please him.

She was honored.

Mercy took his cock out of her mouth with a short gasp for breath. She used the opportunity to breathe in the scent of clean sweat from his pubes, and moved down to lick his balls as she stroked his cock with one hand. With it being coated in her saliva and her Goldsigns being as slick as they were, her hand slid effortlessly up and down as if along a polished steel rod.

With her other hand, she started gently playing with his plug, with immediate effect. Northstrider's cock twitched, and he rumbled with pleasure with her every move. She loved how vocal he could get, there was not a shy bone in his body.

Northstrider's breathing had gotten faster, and Mercy realized that this wouldn't take long at all.

Mercy licked her way back up the underside of his shaft while she continued playing with the plug. Once she got the head of his cock in her mouth, she started stroking him again, there was plenty of room for both her mouth and her hand on that cock.

The taste of precum spurred her on, and she picked up the pace. She rubbed her tongue hard and fast against his frenulum, and she felt him resist the urge to thrust with his thighs.

She had him.

He let out a harsh, throaty groan only moments later as his cock erupted with shocking force. It hitting the back of her mouth like a blow. She was ready for it, but she still struggled to both keep sucking and to keep the cum in her mouth as he moaned out spurt after spurt.

Most of it she swallowed. Some dribbled over her chin and down to her breasts, which she realized were still clamped. She had been focusing on other things.

She let it stay there, and focused on sucking his cock as it deflated, catching and swallowing the last drops of Northstrider's cum as his breathing slowed.

Mercy felt Northstrider's hand on her hair when his cock was soft in her mouth again. He stroked her appreciatively, then moved the hand down and undid the clamps on her nipples without a word.

Blood and pain rushed back, and Mercy finally stopped sucking and looked up at Northstrider's face. He did not have the most expressive of faces, but she knew he was happy.

Mercy still wanted to hear it.

"Are you pleased, Monarch?" she said. Her voice sounded surprisingly small.

"You have pleased me, Mercy," he said. "You did well."

Mercy let out a single content sigh, and buried her face in his thigh.

"Thank you, Monarch," she whispered, and finally allowed herself to relax fully as Northstrider picked up his dream tablet again and started idly stroking her hair.

Tomorrow a new day would come, with new problems.

But tonight, she could rest knowing that she had done this one thing completely and unambiguously right.

Chapter Text

Mercy had come to the conclusion that prince Agutan of the Sarduk Kingdom was a hard man to relate to. But she owed it to his people to try. And this meeting had a significant audience in the form of witnesses from both sides, so she was also required to keep up appearances. Which wasn't easy in the situation at hand.

"We already know what happened, Prince Agutan" Mercy said, and procured one of the Akura clan's reports on the situation. "You invaded your neighbors in the Asnok Kingdom. You set up garrisons on their lands. You carted off most of their agricultural sacred artists, who have now been conscripted to bolster the crops in your capital region. Tens of thousands have died!"

It was a story of terrible, pointless violence. This wasn't a time to cry, but it was an account to cry over.

Agutan just smiled, as if he were dealing with an overly enthusiastic child. He did look twice Mercy's age, but in fact he was over 80 years old - he had been an Underlord for decades, and had had cosmetic procedures to further slow down his apparent aging. He wore an impeccably tailored set of robes and his mustache and fingernails were trimmed to extreme precision. Under different circumstances, Mercy would have considered him very handsome.

"You claim you have the facts," he drawled, "but my intelligence reports less than ten thousand dead, and not a single Lord among them. The operation was swift and efficient, and this all seems to have been blown out of proportion."

His smile never wavered.

Mercy fought to keep her voice even. "In addition to the thousands of sacred artists who died in direct combat, you need to count those who died from famine, disease and displacement as a direct result of your actions."

The Asnok Kingdom's economic collapse had in fact been what caused the Akura clan to finally intervene in the situation and demand a diplomatic solution.

Ordinarily, the clan would have acted before one of their vassal states brutally invaded another, or so Mercy told herself. But with the Uncrowned King tournament going on, the attack of the Wandering Titan, and the reclamation of territory from the dragons, the clan's attention had been spread too thin.

And the people of Asnok had paid the price.

"Those deaths, while tragic, are an internal matter of the Sarduk Kingdom," Agutan said with that same cold smile on his face. "Surely not at all worthy of the notice of the honorable Akura clan. All of these deaths happened within the legitimate and historical, if recently re-enforced, borders of our Kingdom."

Mercy held back a wince. The Sarduk royal family had used a recently "uncovered" dream tablet describing a unified Sarduk Kingdom whose borders included most of the Asnok Kingdom as a pretense for their attack. Its contents had been spread far and wide, and the message of unifying the Sarduk people under one rightful rule had been repeated constantly in preparation for the attack.

Problem was, the tablet was a blatant fake.

Mercy had been hoping Agutan's strategy for the meeting would be to admit that the Sarduk Kingdom had overstepped. They should have realized that their war of expansion was over the moment the Akura clan noticed it, begged for forgiveness and offered to pay damages. Mercy found it distasteful to think that the Sarduk royal family could get away with it, but it was in fact probably the best outcome at this point - for both the Akura clan and the Sarduk Kingdom, if not the Asnok Kingdom.

But the world was not fair. And Agutan seemed intent on sticking to his story about enforcing their ancient borders.

Which meant Mercy needed to stick to her part as well.

"Old Man Lo, would you please bring over the documents our diplomats in the Sarduk Kingdom have gathered on the border claims?"

Old Man Lo took only a moment to bow before engaging his speed-enhancing shadow enforcer technique and all but disappearing in a blur. The stack of documents appeared on Mercy's desk an instant later.

Agutan's smirk disappeared as he eyed the papers with suspicion.

"This document describes how your queen intended to capitalize on the discovery of the dream tablet describing the historical borders in order to justify taking action within the Asnok Kingdom," Mercy said, laying the first bundle in front of Agutan.

Agutan remained composed, but Mercy could see his surprise. That had been a closed meeting among Sarduk officials. But the Akura spies were thorough.

"Discussing strategy in such a situation is hardly out of the ordinary, Akura Mercy," Agutan said.

"The meeting in question was held three months before the discovery of the dream tablet."

"... my queen has great foresight," Agutan forced out.

"But not so great as to decide on the details of the invasion beforehand. It is only after the attack is underway that she declares that the Asnok branch of the Redflower clan should be kidnapped and brought to the Sarduk Kingdom while, and I quote, "the Akuras are too busy with the dragons to watch us from their shadows"," Mercy said as she laid the second bundle of documents in front of Agutan.

"We were lacking... access to your leadership at the time, and decisions needed to be made," he said. He sounded utterly unconvincing. He was either a terrible actor or not bothering with putting up a good charade.

"It's not too late to admit to mistakes, " Mercy said. "Reparations can be made."

Agutan looked Mercy straight in the eye. "My queen has personally vouched for the authenticity of the dream tablet, and she stands by her royal decisions."

Mercy maintained eye contact. She only had one card left to play if she was to prevent things from escalating. It wasn't the right one for this audience, but she had to try.

"Please, Agutan. It's over. Help me end this."

"I have not heard any reasons to do so," he said. His smirk was back.

And with that, there was nothing left to do but let Agutan's plan play out.

Mercy produced the last remaining batch of documents.

"And this is proof of your queen commissioning the forgery of the dream tablet which is the basis of the Sarduk Kingdom's new border claim," Mercy said.

"Slander," was Agutan's immediate, practiced response.

The crowd let out carefully measured gasps, as if everyone in the room hadn't seen it coming. Accusing the Akura clan of slander is a line that couldn't be un-crossed.

"These accusations are slanderous!" he shouted, his theatrical side finally coming out. "Akura Mercy, you accuse my honorable queen of lies, forgery, and warmongering! You leave me no choice but to defend her honor."

He dramatically placed his hand on his sword. "Akura Mercy, I challenge you. Let us decide the truth of the matter as sacred artists. To death or submission!"

Mercy just felt sad. This had been perfectly predictable, but she hadn't seen any way to get him to back down.

Time to finish it.

"I accept. Old Man Lo, please clear the area."

Mercy's papers, the desk, the rest of her furniture and even the audience were moved towards the walls in a flash of shadow.

Agutan did not look intimidated by the display, he merely drew his sword and took up position. The motion was smooth and practiced, and the weapon looked like it belonged in his hand like a fang belongs in a viper's mouth.

Holding a sword changed his appearance from that of a spoiled aristocrat to that of a lethal fighter in an instant.

"Despite the circumstances, I must confess I'm eager to test myself against one of the Uncrowned", he said. "One of the finest sacred artists of the young generation."

Agutan was entitled to some confidence. He was a seasoned combatant by all counts, possibly the most experienced Underlord Mercy had ever faced. He practiced the Sarduk royal family path of the Screaming Edge, a potent offensive path that combined sword and dream madra to attack both body and mind.

They had not named an official arbiter, so Mercy just readied her staff. The witnesses would determine the victor based on appearances as much as anything else, she could not show nervousness.

Agutan approached from Mercy's from her non-dominant side. To his credit, he did not scream, flourish his weapon, or do anything but show that he was taking the duel seriously.

He attacked quickly, coming in straight for Mercy's chest.

Mercy caught the thrust in an amethyst gauntlet and stopped it cold. This was exactly the kind of straightforward attack her bloodline armor excelled against.

But like everyone who came prepared to fight an Akura, Agutan knew the armor's strengths and weaknesses. The armor did nothing to defend Mercy against the barbed tendril of dream madra that snaked up her arm and jabbed straight into her brain.

Agutan grinned victoriously.

And why wouldn't he? He had decades of experience on her, both in combat and politics. Mercy had no idea what she was doing there, she was just a girl with a famous Mother who was way out of her depth. The right thing to do would be to let the prince stab her right through the heart and save her family further embarrassment. Her friends wouldn't miss her, they had been playing the long game of getting close to her just to get close to her Mother, they didn't even like her, they pitied her pathetic lack of advancement, AND WHO COULD LIKE SUCH A DEVIANT LIKE HER ANYWAY, HER FRIENDS WOULD RUN IN DISGUST IF THEY KNEW WHAT SHE DID AT NIGHT, SHE WAS UNWORTHY, FILTH, SHE DESERVED TO BE ALO-

The path of the Screaming Edge certainly lived up to its name. It was powerful, but utterly without subtlety.

Mercy crushed the technique almost as soon as it began. Aunt Charity had been training her to resist more elaborate mental attacks since she was twelve years old.

And Mercy had spent the last months perfecting her own fear technique.

Without a word, she formed the Dream of Darkness, her Overlord technique. It slammed into Agutan's spirit, wiping off his grin.

A moment later, his eyes bulged and he released his hold on his sword, and Mercy knew she had him.

She dismissed her gauntlet and flipped his sword in the air so she held it by the hilt. She took up position with his sword in one hand and her own staff in the other.

He might not have officially given up, but this duel was over.

She made herself watch as Agutan fell to the floor and started screaming. She stood as a symbol of the clan, and she would not dishonor it by flinching.

Mercy stood still and watched as Agutan screamed. First wordlessly. Then he screamed something about him being innocent, then that "it" wasn't his fault.

Mercy had no idea what he was talking about.

Agutan kept screaming, then vomited all over his shirt and beard, and then he kept screaming.

His aides averted their eyes as he started clawing at his face hard enough to draw blood. Mercy did not.

Several minutes passed before Agutan's voice gave out, leaving only hoarse sobbing. The rest of the room watched in deathly silence.

Only then did Mercy crouch down next to him.

"Do you submit?" she said. Her voice was soft, but it cut through the silence of the room.

Agutan nodded without raising his eyes to meet hers. It was enough.

"You will withdraw your troops. You will pay war reparations of ten million scales to the Asnok Kingdom, and two million scales in fees owed to the Akura clan. And you, Agutan, will join your queen in exile," she said. She couldn't let this man come close to ruling again. "The Akura clan will assist in the choosing of a suitable noble family to succeed yours on the Sarduk throne."

Agutan looked at her with a mixture of fear and confusion.

"... you... you can't. It's too much. This is cruelty!"

His face was covered in his own tears, blood and vomit.

Mercy plucked a handkerchief out of Agutan's own pocket and used it to dab off the worst of it.

"No. Cruelty is my cousin. I'm Mercy."

She stood up, turned her back on him, and waved for his aides to take him away. She was done.

She could still hear Agutan sobbing the whole way out.

One by one, the rest of the crowd politely took their leave as well.

Too politely, even the Akuras. Fear hung heavy in the room. All Mercy wanted to do was to smile and wave to relieve some of the tension. These were people she knew and liked, who were walking out with the picture of Mercy standing over the broken pieces of a Lord in their minds, wondering if they would be next if they displeased the Clan. Mercy certainly would be thinking if she were in their place.

Which was precisely the point.

Mercy stood straight until the only presence she could sense in the room was that of Old Man Lo.

"If I may offer my humble opinion, Mistress... that was a most impressive display," he said. "Enemies of the Akura clan will remember this."

Friends of the clan would remember this too.

"And... that's for the best, right?" she asked. Mercy knew it was, this was by far the fastest way to not only end this war, but to prevent others from forming. The only question was how to count how many thousands of lives she had just saved.

"Of course, Mistress."

"How can you be so sure?"

"For me... for me the way has always been to place my trust in those stronger and wiser than myself. I am fallible. But I follow one whose insight is beyond measure, and I know her judgement will steer the clan right."

Mercy's shoulders sunk further. "Yes, indeed. Mother knows best." Even when it meant turning her into a replacement for the clan enforcer that was Uncle Fury.

"Mistress - while that's true, and your divine Mother's judgement is beyond reproach, she is not the one I was referring to this time," he said, and gave Mercy a grandfatherly smile. "You saved lives today, in a way that required both strength and wisdom."

Mercy couldn't help but feel skeptical. "I don't know about that... I don't have any special insights, I don't know anything except for what was provided by our agents. I just did what I thought was necessary."

"That is what someone wise and brave would say, Mistress."

"... thank you, Old Man Lo."

She wanted to hug him to thank him for the unexpected kindness. But she knew he would just be flustered if she did, so she just smiled at him.

He bowed deeply, fists pressed together in an old-fashioned gesture that Mercy usually associated with Lindon.

"Can I serve you in any other way tonight, Mistress?"

"Could you please... restore the room? I want to retire early tonight." And start early. The work would wait, but not for long.

"Of course, Mistress," he said, and disappeared in a blur.

Leaving her alone.

She walked over to her bedroom. Her body felt distant, unreal. What felt real were her own thoughts attacking her.

She was flattered that Old Man Lo trusted in her, but it still didn't feel right.

Whose judgement was she supposed to trust?

Mother was the obvious answer.

But it didn't feel right. Mercy would fight for her. She would advance her cause. She certainly didn't know of a better way to do things than Mother's way. But it didn't feel like the right way for her.

Her Mother would appreciate what she had done for the clan... but she wouldn't love Mercy any more for it.

It would be nice to have someone who did.

Mercy kicked off her shoes and threw herself face-down on the bed.

Which did nothing to quiet down her thoughts. She wasn't sure whether it were the aftereffects of having weathered Agutan's mental assault or whether this was just her regular loneliness, but her bed felt too large and too empty, and her head felt too full of thoughts.

She wanted to snuggle up to someone and dump those thoughts out. She wanted someone to help sort them out. And love her in all the twisted little ways she wanted to be loved.

Her friends could help with the first two, to be fair. But she couldn't even bring herself to tell them about what she really wanted.

Without taking her face out of the pillow, she dug around in her nightstand with one hand to find Buzzy.

She wondered what she was even doing after she nestled Buzzy under herself. She wasn't horny in the least, the day had been too awful.

But Buzzy was there, and even if he wasn't strictly real, he knew the whole of her and still didn't judge.

And maybe her brain would quiet down if she just got a proper beating. It was hard to feel too much mental anguish when your ass had been caned black and purple like an Akura banner.

She fed her madra to Buzzy.

Her last thoughts before the world faded to black were ones of shame.

***

Something felt different even before Mercy opened her eyes. She came to laying on her side in a large, sturdy four-poster bed with empty curtain railings, in a bedroom that looked rather conventional except for the coils of rope hanging from hooks right in front of her. Mercy herself was just wearing rather comfortable black pajamas for once. Even her usual collar was gone.

She bolted upright a moment later when she heard a woman's voice behind her.

"My dear girl, what have they been doing to you?"

It was a blonde, tanned, handsome-looking woman who spoke. Her eyes were full of sympathy, and her arms were outstretched as she approached Mercy for a hug.

It was Min Shuei, the Winter Sage.

Mercy instinctively stood up to hug her back. Min Shuei was wearing light robes the color of cream, and when Mercy wrapped her arms around her she could feel that they left her back bare. Nothing but soft skin covering hard muscles.

"It's all going to be better now," Min Shuei cooed.

Mercy couldn't help but feel tension bleed out of her. Hugs were always great, but this was an especially good one. And Mercy had had enough hugs in her life to know a good one.

She was still confused.

"How am I here?" Mercy asked.

Min tucked a lock of Mercy's hair back behind her hair before responding.

"The question of how you got here is less important than the one of whether you feel comfortable with being here."

Mercy looked around, properly this time.

The furnishings were simple, but they felt luxurious. The four-poster bed was made of solid, reddish wood. The floors were covered in tightly woven straw mats which had just a tiny bit of give under her toes. Every rope was coiled up with precisely the same neat knot. Everything looked well cared for, she didn't think she would be able to find a splinter or rough edge in the room if she tried.

She didn't remember being in this exact room before, but it felt good. You could relax here.

"Oh, it feels great!" Mercy said. "I'm just still a bit surprised. I expected, uh… someone different."

"Let's take a seat. I'll explain," Min Shuei said, directing Mercy to sit next to her on the bed.

Mercy complied, without taking her hand of Min Shuei's lower back. She could feel a few soft hairs under her fingertips, and Min Shuei's skin was comfortably cool somehow. Mercy was reluctant to let go of the touch. And it was so very, very different from touching Northstrider.

"You needed a more loving touch," Min Shuei said. "And I don't think even you can imagine the brute you've been seeing as being capable of that. But you can see how I could, can't you, Mercy?"

Mercy nodded. It was impossible to disagree.

There was just one big issue which was staring her in the face. It wasn't completely out of the blue, she had always found some women pretty and she had even fantasized just a bit about what it might be like to have sex with one. The reality, such as it was, was a lot more intimidating.

"But... you're a woman." Mercy did not feel very clever saying it out loud.

"That much is true."

"I don't... I've never... I don't know if I..." Mercy struggled to get the words out.

Min Shuei interrupted. "You've never been with a woman, you don't know if you'd even like it, and you just realized you only know how to pleasure men and are worried you'll disappoint me?"

"... pretty much!" Mercy said, looking away from Min Shuei and feeling her cheeks redden. Once again she wondered whether the projection was actually reading her mind.

"Mercy. Dear. You don't have to worry about these things tonight. You've been worrying about everything and everyone else without pause for months. Tonight, I would like to take care of you. I don't want you to perform. How does that sound?"

It sounded wonderful.

It also sounded hard.

She really liked being of service, but right there she realized that that was mostly how she had been thinking of sex recently. Looking good for Northstrider. Satisfying him. Making herself available.

It was what she had wanted. She was also just way too worn out for it right now.

It still didn't change the fact that having Min Shuei take care of her rather than the other way around felt less familiar than the fact that she was a woman.

"It sounds great, Min Shuei. I'm just nervous. And I really don't know if I'd like this."

Min Shuei looked agitated. "My dear Mercy, you're nervous because you're a nervous wreck, and you're a nervous wreck because you've been treated like dirt!"

She slid herself closer to Mercy, so their knees touched. It felt way more intimate than it looked.

"I'm only going to do things that you like. I can tell you're intimidated by the thought of having sex, so I am going to leave that off the table tonight. I'd like to play with you, but nothing will be licked, flicked, or rubbed. How does that make you feel?"

Mercy actually felt a bit disappointed by that.

Oh.

Taking it slow was still probably a good idea.

"I'd like that," Mercy said, gently setting off a whole flock of butterflies in her stomach.

"I was hoping you'd say that," Min Shuei said with a wicked smile. "Now, first things first."

Min Shuei slid behind Mercy where she still sat on the edge of the bed, procuring a collar from somewhere.

The collar was a simple band of black leather with a single violet stripe running through its center. Mercy guessed it matched her eyes exactly.

She couldn't get her hair out of the way fast enough.

Min Shuei buckled it around Mercy's throat, and Mercy couldn't decide if she liked the constricting feeling of the leather or the one of Min Shuei's fingers touching her skin more. Either way, it sent a shiver straight down her spine.

Once Mercy was properly collared once again, Min Shuei embraced her from behind.

"As I'm sure you've guessed, I'd like to play with rope tonight," she whispered into Mercy's ear.

"Oh, I'd love that!" Mercy was pretty sure she would already like most everything Min Shuei could suggest.

"I can tie you up as you are - or we can work with more skin. Up to you, Mercy."

Mercy hesitated. What was the right answer? Feeling the rope on her bare skin sounded more exciting, but what if Min Shuei actually preferred her to stay clothed? What if she didn't like the sight of her body?

Min Shuei rolled her eyes, but smiled. "I forget who I'm talking to. Mercy, stand up, fetch me a rope, and take off your clothes. Now."

Mercy was on her feet before the last word had left her lips.

"Yes, honored Sage!"

"Just 'Min' will do, Mercy. We're about to become very familiar."

"Yes, Min!"

Mercy bounced back to Min with the rope and handed it over. It was made of plain undyed shadesilk, it wouldn't have been out of place at any proper farm, she thought.

And then it was time to undress. Mercy braced herself for a moment of embarrassment which didn't come - she had her instructions, and she wasn't about to balk.

So she just took off her pajamas while Min uncoiled the rope, first stripping away the shirt to leave her chest bare, and then the pants.

Mercy stopped before pulling off her underwear. She wasn't sure just how naked she should actually get. She wasn't shy. But she was anxious about not following instructions correctly.

"You're perfect like this, Mercy," Min said, and reached out to stroke Mercy's cheek gently. "You are so beautiful," she whispered.

Mercy blushed and looked down at her feet, unsure of how to respond to the compliment.

Min Shuei tilted up Mercy's chin until their eyes met. "I mean it," she said firmly. "Now, I'd like to get started.

She stood up and walked behind Mercy, rope in hand.

Mercy's stomach leaped in anticipation.

Min just embraced her again from behind, crossing her hands on Mercy's bare chest. Min held the bight of the rope between two fingers, allowing the rope to dangle down Mercy's body.

"Are you afraid?" Min asked.

"... yes."

"Of what?"

Mercy took a moment to respond. It wasn't fear of pain, or Min being mean to her, or Min being a woman.

She just wasn't used to being treated like this.

"I'm... afraid of how nice you're being."

"And why is that scary?"

"I just don't know if I deserve it."

"Mercy," Min said with the firmness worthy of the Winter Sage. "Leave deciding that to me."

"Yes, Min." Mercy would do her best.

Min started dragging the bight across Mercy's chest with one hand, lightly placing her other hand around Mercy's collared throat. She didn't apply any pressure at all, but Mercy could already feel she wasn't going anywhere.

Min moved the bight between Mercy's breasts, across her stomach, and far too slowly, across each nipple.

Mercy struggled to stay still. The rope didn't tickle, but she wanted more of it and she wanted it.

"Hands behind your back," Min whispered in her ear. "Before you get yourself in trouble."

Mercy did as she was told, and Min released her throat to grab her wrists.

And still far too slowly, she dragged the bight across Mercy's shoulder and down to her hands.

Mercy breathed a sigh of her relief as Min finally tied her arms together just above the wrists. She couldn't see what exactly Min was doing, but she could feel the ropes becoming perfectly skin-tight around her as Min closed off a cinch, without it pinching or hurting her in the least.

"Do you feel good, Mercy?" Min asked.

"Oh, yes. It feels right," Mercy blurted.

"Then we continue."

Min pulled the rope up and over Mercy's shoulders to form the beginnings of a harness, securing the end behind her back. It may not have seemed like much, but it forced her shoulders to straighten and eliminated any possibility of slouching.

Mercy closed her eyes as Min used another rope to complete the harness around her chest, allowing Min to pull her back and forth as she worked. It didn't do anything to restrain her limbs, but she could feel the ropes squeezing her when she took a deep breath. Like Min was wrapping her in sharp little hugs.

Mercy just allowed herself to enjoy them while Min went to fetch even more rope, and this time, started wrapping it around Mercy's arms above the elbow.

"Now, Mercy, you will tell me immediately if this starts hurting or tingling."

"Uh-huh," Mercy mumbled. She was busy being stuck.

The sound of a sharp slap, immediately followed by the sense of pain coming from her right butt cheek caused Mercy to perk up quickly.

"You will tell me immediately if this starts hurting or tingling," Min repeated, annoyance clear in her voice.

"Yes, Min!"

"Good girl."

Something inside Mercy melted at those words. She really hoped Min would reconsider fucking her. Or at least allow Mercy to do something for her. Anything.

Min started pulling the ropes around Mercy's upper arms tighter, pulling her elbows closer together.

Most of the joints in Mercy's upper body protested the unfamiliar movement, but it wasn't exactly painful. It was just delightfully uncomfortable and restrictive.

Min didn't stop and tie off the ropes until Mercy's elbows were practically touching. She walked around to look Mercy in the eye.

"Still no pain, even now?"

"No, Min." She could feel her arms and they were fine, it was just that using them was completely out of the question.

"You are incredibly flexible. Puppeteer's Iron Body, correct?"

"Yes, Min. You can make me bend however you want." She could make her do whatever she wanted, too.

"Oh, my dear Mercy. I will."

Min gently guided Mercy to the edge of the bed, her fingers grazing along her skin as she positioned her. She secured each of Mercy's legs to the bedposts, spreading them out at an almost uncomfortable angle.

It didn't escape her attention that this left her completely exposed. With her arms tied as rigidly as they were behind her back, she wouldn't even be able to prevent herself from falling with her face into the mattress if she lost her balance. She definitely wouldn't be able to stop Min from touching her any way she liked.

Anticipation and excitement surged in Mercy as Min finished up the rope work behind her back.

Min threw the tail end of a rope over the bed's empty curtain rail before circling around and crawling into the bed facing Mercy, admiring her own handiwork.

"You look absolutely beautiful like this," Min murmured, trailing a finger along a rope close to Mercy's collarbone. Mercy shivered at the light touch.

"Thank you, Min," Mercy whispered.

"Now, my dear, I'm going to push you a little further," Min purred in Mercy's ear.

Min moved back on the bed by a couple of steps on her knees, and pulled the rope she had thrown over the bed's railing above Mercy's head before.

Mercy's wrists were immediately pulled up, causing her to instinctively bend over to prevent further strain on her shoulders which were already protesting the ropes tying her elbows together.

She gasped as her body was pulled into an increasingly strenuous position. The ropes bit into her skin and her shoulders burned, but it was the delicious sort of discomfort. Her shoulders were stretched to their limits as Min kept pulling, raising Mercy's arms high in the air as she bent further down.

"There we are," Min said with satisfaction, securing the rope. "How do you feel, my dear?"

"So stuck," Mercy whimpered in response, overwhelmed by the intensity of what her body was feeling. Every slight movement sent new sparks radiating from her overtaxed muscles.

"You're doing so well," Min murmured. "Such a good girl."

Again, those words sent shivers through Mercy's body.

And despite everything, those shivers mostly ended up in her pussy.

"Good girls get rewards," Min said, her cool hand stroking Mercy's chin. "Is there something you want, Mercy?"

"Please touch me. Harder." Mercy wanted those fingers out of her face and on to her clit. The ropes held her so tightly she could just barely breathe, what would an orgasm feel like when stuck like this?

"Harder, you say. Like this?"

Min's hands moved away from Mercy's face and pinched her nipples.

Mercy heard herself scream as Min squeezed, tightening her grip like a cold iron vise.

Yes, she wanted to be touched like this. But she also wanted more.

Mercy craned her neck to look Min in the eye, who had an evil smile on her face.

"I meant... please fuck me, Min. However you like, please!"

This triggered something in Min, who grabbed Mercy by the hair, keeping her head pulled back hard as she brought her face right up to Mercy's. Min's breath smelled of peppermint, and the feel of it gave Mercy goosebumps starting in her face and traveling down her neck.

"I promised not to fuck you," Min growled.

"I changed my mind! Please fuck me!"

Mercy's body might be straining and she couldn't move, but she could still beg.

Min still held her by the hair, and glared intensely into Mercy's eyes.

Min wanted it too. Mercy could tell.

Without letting go of Mercy's hair, Min brought her mouth to Mercy's.

Her lips were cool and smooth. And softer than those of any man Mercy had ever kissed. She may have been imagining it, but her tongue felt so much sweeter in her mouth.

Mercy struggled against her bonds as they prevented her from embracing Min as they kissed. The strain of the ropes biting into her skin contrasted with the ecstasy of the kiss, and all she could do was to let Min take the lead.

Min was breathing heavily by the time their tongues rolled over one another for the last time and she broke the kiss.

"Tempting as it is, I promised you no sex tonight. And I will not break that promise!"

Min sounded just as disappointed as Mercy was.

"But you can keep begging me for it. Be. Specific."

Mercy's mind went into overdrive.

"Please, Min, rip off my underwear and finger me so hard it hurts. Make me scream."

"That's right," Min said as she leaned in close, their cheeks touching. She still held Mercy's hair in a steel grip. "Keep going."

"Please, fuck my pussy right to the edge of orgasm so that I'm begging for it."

Min placed her other hand on Mercy's inner thigh, just a finger's breadth away from where Mercy really wanted her.

"Yes! Can you picture it?"

Mercy could. Min's hand was so close, she could have reached Mercy's clit by just moving her thumb.

But it wasn't happening, so Mercy just continued.

"But before I cum, please stop. Leave me hanging on the edge. Instead, take out a cane."

"Oh, I have a cane?"

"Yesss, and you beat me black and blue with it. I scream, but you just keep going. Not because you don't care, but because you like the way I sound."

"I do love the way you sound, Mercy."

Min pinched Mercy's inner thigh with her fingernails hard enough to make her hiss.

"And then, and then, once I'm in covered in bruises and in so much pain I don't know which way is up and which way is down any more, please stop and grab me by the hair. Just like you have me now."

Min pulled Mercy's hair more tightly in acknowledgement. It sent a burst of pain through her whole body, magnified further where the ropes held her.

"And you make me lick your pussy. Make yourself cum by grinding on my face. Do it hard, don't let me breathe until you've cum."

"Mmm, I like the sound of that. And I leave you hanging on the edge, without a whisper of an orgasm?"

"Yes, just tell me I made you happy and let me rest."

"You're already making me happy, Mercy."

"Thank you, Min."

"I can tell you're excited by this." Min moved her fingers around on Mercy's inner thigh again. It felt suspiciously slick, and the air smelled of sex. "Maybe next time we'll see."

"Yes, Min, thank you Min."

Mercy was already feeling woozy from some feeling that was beyond arousal, and Min hadn't even touched her. And as tightly bound as she was, she couldn't do anything but stew in that feeling.

"This time, I have something else in mind for you. I want you to do something for me."

"Anything!"

"Try not to get hurt."

Min let go of Mercy, leaving her hair a mess. Her head swung down with the sudden lack of support.

Mercy found herself staring down as an icicle formed before her eyes, hovering in place straight below her face, pointed end up.

It was so sharp that Mercy could feel the sword aura.

Min sat back, a smile on her face.

And the icicle began to grow.

Mercy was used to sharp things coming her way, but not when she was this thoroughly restrained.

She found herself panicking and struggling against the ropes as the icicle's growth showed no signs of stopping. But there was nothing she could do - her legs were spread, her arms fully locked together behind her back, just maintaining balance was hard enough already. Struggling did nothing but make the ropes burrow themselves into her skin.

Mercy looked up at Min, who just laughed at her predicament.

Min had an Archlady's speed. She could probably save Mercy's life even if she slipped. Probably.

Mercy trusted she would.

And the icicle kept on growing until she could feel its cold on her skin.

Mercy dug out every bit of flexibility she had in her body to stay away.

She raised her torso as high as she could, straining the ropes around her chest and pulling on the ropes holding up her arms.

She lifted her chin as it closed in on her face, leaving the icicle pointed straight between her jaws. She couldn't even see it, but the sword aura was more than enough to tell her it remained.

She stood on her toes for the extra height. First normally, then just on the very tips of her big toes.

Mercy scrunched her eyes shut as she reached the end of her mobility. She wanted to scream, but moving her mouth even a hair's breadth would cut her chin. Falling would impale her skull.

Every muscle in her body was pulled taut. She couldn't move anything. She could barely breathe. She was so afraid.

Her eyes remained pressed shut, but she felt a tear roll down her face.

"Gorgeous," came Min's voice from somewhere out in the void. "Let's keep you exactly like this."

Mercy said nothing. The strain of maintaining the posture burned harder with every second.

But it was something she could do. It wasn't easy, but it was simple. The simplest task in the world. This, she could do.

Mercy's consciousness drifted away. Her entire body was screaming at her to let go, but her mind was in a pleasant void, and she held on. Seconds passed like hours. Or the other way around.

It surprised her when Min spoke again.

"All right, that's enough, my dear. You were starting to shake, and we can't have that."

Mercy had not realized that she was shaking. But she did feel the sword aura retreating.

She allowed some of her muscles to relax, and that hurt far worse than staying in place. She felt Min loosen the ropes holding up her arms, and her shoulders felt like a rusty hinge as her arms dropped down.

Min loosened the ropes tying Mercy's feet to the bedposts, and effortlessly lifted her on to the bed.

Mercy's eyes were still closed, but she could feel Min check something about the ropes around her chest and those tying her arms together, and if she could still feel her own fingers. Mercy didn't pay a lot of attention to it.

"Your arms are fine, and your spirit is stable," Min said. "But this was hard on you. Do you want to stop?"

"Nuh-uh," Mercy articulated, and spat hair out of her mouth.

"Do you want to try one more thing?"

"Uh-huh." Being all loose again sounded awful. Mercy relaxed as Min got to work on her legs, tying her feet together above the ankles so they crossed.

The other end of the rope went to her hair, tying it off with a knot.

And then Min started bunching up the center of the rope, pulling her hair and feet together.

Her feet felt very little aside from "stuck". The roots of her hair hurt wonderfully from all the abuse it had suffered.

And for the second time that evening, she craned her head back, this time as Min kept shortening the rope.

Her back arched as Min kept pulling. Her knees lifted off the bed, and she found herself bent backwards into a near-circle.

"You're incredible, Mercy. How are you feeling?"

"Cozy," Mercy got out. Only her hair really hurt, and that was a familiar kind of pain at this point.

"Cozy? Your back is arched so hard that your feet are nearly touching your head!"

Mercy didn't get what the big deal was. She wanted to shrug, but it got her nowhere.

Min tied off the bunched center of the rope somewhere behind her back, fixing it to her chest harness. It actually relieved the pressure on her hair.

She was dragged to the edge of the bed, where Min knelt down in front of her, placing them face to face.

Min was so beautiful up close, Mercy thought. The tiny little sun-tanned wrinkles around her eyes, the kindness in her eyes. She had lived, she had loved, she had laughed, and now she was doing it with her.

Mercy opened her mouth, and Min responded with a kiss. Mercy couldn't do much in return, but she relished it.

Min broke the kiss gently, leaving Mercy breathless and yearning for more. She trailed her fingers lightly along Mercy's jaw, sending shivers through her body.

"You've been so good for me, Mercy," Min murmured. "So brave and trusting. I think you've earned a reward."

Mercy's heart raced. "Thank you, Min," she whispered.

Min's cool hand slid down Mercy's neck and came to rest on her breast. Mercy gasped at the touch, leaning into Min's hand as much as her bonds would allow.

"Remember, nothing will be licked, flicked, or rubbed," Min said with a smile. "But there is something I can do for you."

Mercy closed her eyes in anticipation.

"Relax."

The command was written on the universe, and a wave of relief flooded over her body, deeper and more thorough than she could have thought possible. It washed over her like a cool, soothing balm.

Mercy couldn't move, but muscles which she hadn't known were tight unclenched. Muscles that she hadn't relaxed for weeks. Her neck was craned, but she felt its sides slacken. Her jaw made a funny popping sound as it loosened.

She let out a sigh of utter relief and contentment, and the room fell silent, only broken by their breaths and the gentle rustle of sheets. She was stuck, but she was free.

All the feelings and none of the choices. Mercy couldn't imagine anything better.

But of course it couldn't last forever.

"I'm going to untie you now," Min said. "Let me know about any pain or numbness."

Mercy made a small sound of protest. She didn't want this to end.

"Shh, it's alright," Min soothed. "We need to take care of you properly."

With swift, practiced movements, Min began undoing the ropework. As each limb was freed, she gently massaged the skin to restore circulation. Mercy felt herself slowly unfurling, like a flower opening to the sun.

The deep sense of relaxation remained. It made her own body feel foreign to her in the best possible way.

When she was fully untied, Min gathered Mercy into her arms and held her close. Mercy nestled against her chest. Specifically the nice and soft parts of her chest. No reason to be shy about it at this point.

Min stroked Mercy's hair as they kissed once more, and kept it up as Mercy sank back down into her lap.

"So," Min asked. "Time to get Northstrider so you can get properly man-plowed with his man-cock?"

Mercy exploded into giggles.

"No thanks, I have everything I need!"

Chapter Text

"Say it!" Min Shuei growled.

"I'm your toy!" Mercy screamed at the top of her lungs, her eyes squeezed shut.

She was naked, her arms boxtied behind her back, one leg frogtied with the knee tied up to a harness around her chest. She was suspended in the air by several ropes attached to a bamboo beam above her,

while Min held onto another rope that kept her other leg straight and taut.

Being suspended by ropes was never comfortable, but this time it was especially rough. Most of Mercy's weight was supported by the rope that went through her crotch, thanks to some trick of Min's art. It was more than just the weight of her own body, in fact, due to how hard Min was pulling the rope extending her other leg. Mercy's Iron Body might be durable, but all that force being applied straight on her pussy still had her squirming in pain. Of course, squirming only made it worse.

And still, Min wanted more from her. She stood tall and proud, still fully clothed in her pale robes, the rope in her hand radiating the kind of authority usually that was usually reserved for Monarch weapons.

"Say. What I want. To hear." Min emphasized. Her voice was ice.

"I can't, it's too embarrassing!"

"I don't like repeating myself, Mercy!" Min said, and pulled harder on the rope extending Mercy's leg. The pressure on her pussy increased tenfold.

Mercy squealed in pain. The rope was unyielding, making her feel as if she would split in two from the groin and up.

Embarrassment would need to wait. Even if Min had been very cruel in her instructions.

"I'm your... I'm your pretty toy! I'm your beautiful, sexy toy!"

Min eased the pressure as soon as Mercy had done as she was told, and tied off the rope pulling her leg so that the pressure on her crotch was merely somewhat painful.

"Good girl," Min whispered, her face suddenly close to Mercy's. "Was that very hard?"

Mercy nodded, holding back a sob. It was hard to say things she didn't believe.

"My poor, pretty toy," Min cooed, stroking Mercy's cheek. Her hand felt nice and cool against her flushed skin. "I know it's easier when I'm just hurting your body. But I want you to endure mental pain for me as well. It is instructive, and you look absolutely delectable when you're squirming. With time, it will become more bearable."

"Yes Min, thank you for your instruction, Min," Mercy said. "You know best."

It was much easier to say things she actually believed.

"I do know best, don't I? Now, if you think you can take more, beg for it."

Mercy's pussy was burning, and every part of her body was under stress from the suspension.

She was also sure that she could take more. She wanted to take more.

"Please keep hurting me, Min."

"That's not very convincing. Tell me why, my dear, and be honest."

Mercy let out a heavy breath. This was a difficult position in which to have a conversation.

Her first thought was that it was because she knew Min liked to see her in pain. She wanted Min to get off on her squirming.

But that wasn't the biggest reason, and Mercy knew it. And Min had asked her to be honest.

"Please keep hurting me because... because I just want it. I... I crave the pain."

"Very good, Mercy! I'm proud of you."

Min cupped Mercy's face in the palm of her hand and gave her a quick kiss. Mercy wasn't sure which felt better, the kiss or Min's words.

Min went to fetch a short cane.

Mercy's eyes went straight to the cane. Her stomach did little leaps as she waited for the pain that was to come.

Min didn't miss it, and laughed as she brandished the cane.

"Yes, you want it and you deserve to get it. I'll take care of you."

Min grabbed the foot of Mercy's frogtied leg to hold it steady, and started slowly and lightly tapping the cane against her sole. Mercy could still flex and bend a bit, but Min's grip on her foot was firm and the only thing her movements achieved were to rub her clit painfully against the crotch rope.

The taps of the cane were light, each one sent little more than a tingle of anticipation through her. The sound was rhythmic, an intro to the song of pain she would soon be singing.

She closed her eyes. Mercy could still feel the ropes digging into her skin, her body straining against them as she squirmed, but her world narrowed down to just her foot, Min's grip on it, and the strikes of the cane.

She gasped as one of the strikes hit noticeably harder than the ones before, hitting her like a hot pinprick before continuing with the light taps. And then she hit her hard again.

Mercy's heart beat faster as she realized the pattern. Five light taps and then a hard one. Tap-tap-tap-tap-smack. Tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-smack.

She adjusted her breathing in anticipation, and moaned in pain as the hard smacks got harder.

Minutes passed before the moans gave way to yelps as Min just kept slowly increasing the intensity. She jerked when Min hit her particularly hard, reminding her of all the other things going on as the ropes cut into her skin and the crotch rope scraped against her clit, making her groan.

"That's it. Now we're starting," Min teased.

Mercy thought she should protest and say they had already long started. But she agreed.

Min moved her hand and started striking Mercy's inner thigh. It was definitely harder than what she had been suffering before, and the thigh didn't feel any less sensitive. Mercy bit her lip to distract herself from the pain, and just barely realized the futility before she started tasting blood.

Mercy stopped being able to keep track of which strikes were hard and which ones were light. They were all a part of the same rhythm, as were her yelps and screams.

She allowed her head to droop and let it happen. If Min wanted her to scream, she would scream. It was out of her control.

At some point Min finished up with her frogtied leg and started to move on to the other one.

Mercy focused her eyes, which took a surprising amount of effort, and looked over the leg which Min had just finished caning. It was striped red and purple, bruises already starting to blossom along her sensitive inner thigh.

It was beautiful.

"Pretty," Mercy mumbled.

Min paused to check in. "What was that, my dear?"

Mercy giggled. Min had been right.

"I am your pretty toy now." She did her best to nod towards her leg. "See? Pretty."

Min raked her nails lightly along the bruises, causing fresh agony to blossom. Mercy gasped.

"Yes, yes you are so pretty. I'm so happy you see that now. Are you ready for me to make the other leg pretty too?"

"Yes, Min, thank you."

Mercy closed her eyes and allowed herself to drift away as Min thoroughly pummeled her other leg. Mercy's voice pierced the air in relentless screams, but she didn't think it was any of her business. They were distant and unimportant. There was pain and there were screams, but it was just a part of the music, and she was floating somewhere else, in an ocean of sensations far away.

She wasn't just a person any more. She was an instrument for Min to create such beautiful music.

Time ticked by, and the music eventually started lowering in volume, which was confusing.

"All right, it's time to come down now," Min's voice said.

Mercy had nothing to add to that. The music had been getting quite loud.

She felt her body being lowered down to the floor, where Min guided her to lie down.

As she arrived back in her body, she felt as if it was vibrating with some kind of energy. And her legs and pussy hurt.

Min untied her slowly with deft hands, and Mercy just focused on letting Min do her work.

Sensation rushed back into her arms as they were untied, and Mercy found that her hands were also tingling.

Finally, the crotch rope came off with a wet, squelching sound.

Mercy felt a rush of air against her raw skin. Her pussy felt as if it had caught on fire, the pain searing.

"Ow ow ow ow owowowow! OW!" She screamed as she curled up in a ball, in a futile attempt to protect herself from the unexpected agony. This was like nails on a chalkboard when compared to the beautiful melody that had been playing just moments before.

Min reacted instantly.

"Let me see. Spread them."

Mercy forced her body to unfold and let Min take a look between her burning legs. She felt a hot tear run from her eye and down her temple.

"Is it bleeding?" She asked.

"No, my dear, you're just sore," Min said as she moved up and lay down next to Mercy. "Here."

Mercy felt aura move, and Min's hand was suddenly full of small ice cubes, which she brought down to Mercy's crotch.

Mercy drew a sharp breath between clenched teeth as the ice touched her abused clit, but the relief came instantly.

"It's OK. You're supposed to be in pain right now," Min whispered in Mercy's ear.

The remaining pain transformed from bad pain to good pain in an instant.

Mercy wrapped her arms around Min. She wanted the touch. "Thank you, Min, you're so kind."

They lay on the soft floor, wrapped around one another on the floor for a minute, Min stroking Mercy's hair with one hand, and cooling down her pussy with another. Mercy's body hurt all over, mixing gloriously with the affection she felt from Min.

"You've been such a good girl," Min cooed. "It's time for your reward. Are you ready?"

Mercy opened her eyes wide, staring at Min's face, and nodded eagerly. She didn't feel like she had done enough to deserve the attention of this wonderful woman, but she would accept it.

Min rolled Mercy on to her back and straddled her. With one hand, she effortlessly grabbed both of Mercy's wrists, fully pinning her to the floor.

"Open your mouth. Clean it," Min said, bringing the wet hand that had been resting against Mercy's pussy up to her mouth.

Mercy looked Min straight in the eye as she licked her fingers. Most of the wetness was just cold water, but she could smell her own juices as well.

She sucked Min's fingers slowly, bringing them deep into her mouth.

"Cum." Min's command was absolute.

Mercy's body responded of its own volition. Every inch of her skin started shivering as if from cold, and she started squirming. Her abs flexed, her legs kicked, but Min held her arms absolutely still.

Mercy's orgasm built, the shivering intensified, until it collapsed inwards in an implosion that knocked the air out of her. She tried to arch her back but she was stuck, she tried to scream but Min's finger was still in her mouth. Mercy bit down out of instinct, but Min's skin has been thrice-reinforced in soulfire and she wasn't affected at all.

The orgasm came on and on until Mercy's body slumped down, spent.

She closed her eyes, and kept sucking the fingers weakly for a few moments before Min withdrew them. Her muscles twitched oddly, and her limbs weren't working right. Which was fine, as she wasn't using them at the moment anyway.

"Are you feeling good, sweetie?" Min asked, withdrawing her fingers.

"Uh-huh," Mercy replied dreamily. Her body was tingling pleasantly all over. "There's just one thing that would make me feel better."

"Tell me."

Mercy made her eyes focus on Min's.

"Your clit on my tongue."

"I think I can oblige. Let's take this to the bed."

Min stood up, allowing Mercy to rise as well.

It was a bit easier for Min, Mercy's muscles still weren't really cooperating, and everything below her waist hurt.

And Mercy had to pause to watch as Min undressed. She slipped out of her pale robes with the effortless confidence of experience, exposing all of her tanned skin before she climbed into the bed. With each movement, her muscles rippled, showcasing her lean strength.

Mercy gave up on standing up and crawled to follow Min.

Min waited for her with her head propped up on pillows, her blonde hair falling in loose waves around her face. Her legs were splayed open, showcasing the delicate curve of her thighs and offering a full view of the golden curls nestled in between. A sultry smile on her lips invited Mercy to come closer.

Mercy's mouth watered at the thought of tasting her again.

She crawled up to Min's leg, and planted a kiss just below her ankle, just above the creases of her sole. The subtle smell of her skin filled her nostrils, making her want to taste more, to run her tongue along more of her body.

With her mouth still pressed against Min's skin, she trailed slow kisses up her tanned leg, trying to contain her impatience. Every kiss was a moment of worship, and she wanted to cherish the privilege of touching Min's body. She only allowed her tongue to barely graze Min's skin with each kiss, as if it were a sacred ritual.

She could smell Min's arousal by the time she was kissing her inner thigh. Her caresses were gentle, a stark contrast to the painful beating Min had inflicted on Mercy's inner thighs just moments before.

After what felt like an eternity of restraining herself from diving in, Mercy planted a kiss right on top of Min's mound. Mercy took a deep breath with her nose buried in Min's pubic hair, and the smell of her filled her senses.

She couldn't hold back any longer and finally dove in, running her tongue along the length of Min's already wet slit.

Min had been ready for this but still she gasped, her hips jerking involuntarily at the sudden contact. Min wasn't one to hold back her reactions, and this was a sign Mercy was doing a good job.

It filled Mercy with pride - she had been practicing hard over the last few weeks.

Mercy's tongue danced skillfully over and around Min's clit, eliciting soft moans. She reached up to hold onto Min's hips, steadying herself as she focused on giving pleasure.

As Min's breathing became more labored, her hands roamed over her own body before tangling themselves in her hair. She no longer felt the need to direct Mercy's movements and simply reveled in the moment.

Mercy's lips wrapped around Min's nub, sucking gently while flicking it with her tongue. Every sound that escaped from Min only fueled Mercy on, driving her desire to hear more of those sweet moans and gasps.

Min was enjoying herself, but she wasn't close enough yet in Mercy's opinion.

Mercy slipped a black, slippery finger inside of Min while continuing to suck on her clit. The added sensation caused Min's body to tremble as she arched off the bed.

"Oh, Mercy, your hands" she groaned loudly.

Mercy grinned as much as her work would allow, pleased with herself as she continued to work her fingers inside Min. She was careful to curl them just right, hitting all the sensitive spots.

Min's hips were moving in time with Mercy's fingers, her breathing growing more erratic. Mercy could feel the wetness between Min's legs increase, making it easier for her to slip in another finger.

As she picked up the pace of her movements, Min's moans grew louder and more desperate.

Mercy resisted the temptation to change things up. She kept pace, swirling her tongue around Min's clit, curling her fingers gently, and inexorably drew Min over the edge.

With a loud cry, she came hard against Mercy's fingers, her body shaking.

Min collapsed back onto the bed, panting heavily.

Mercy thought Min still had one more orgasm left in her.

She slowed down, but did not stop. She waited for Min to catch her breath, and then she picked up the intensity again, licking with even greater vigor while adding a third finger inside of her.

Min's back arched off the bed once again as Mercy's fingers found all the right spots inside of her. She let out a string of moans and curses as waves of pleasure washed over her.

Mercy could feel the tension building in Min's body, and she knew it wouldn't be long before she reached her peak once again.

"You're so close," Mercy whispered in between licks, her lips brushing the hair of Min's mound. "I can feel it. Please, Min, may I have another? Please?"

Mercy wasn't sure if it was her words or the thrust of her fingers, but Min's arousal reached its climax once again, and with another cry, she came for a second time, trembling against Mercy's touch.

As Min rode out the aftermath of her intense orgasm, Mercy continued to gently stroke her until she finally calmed down. Then she leaned up to press soft kisses against Min's inner thigh before crawling back up to kneel at her feet.

Min turned onto her side to face Mercy, propping herself up on an elbow. They gazed at each other for a moment before breaking into grins simultaneously.

"That was amazing," Min breathed out, still trying to catch her breath. "You're quite skilled for someone who claims not to have much experience," she said teasingly.

"I'm glad you enjoyed it." Mercy blushed but couldn't hide the smile that spread across her face. "And I had a very good teacher," she replied honestly.

"You've certainly taken well to discipline," Min murmured as she sat up on one knee to face Mercy. Mercy was still down on both knees, making Min tower above her. As felt right.

Somewhere in the distance, a bell was ringing.

Min grabbed Mercy's chin and kissed her deeply. Their tongues danced together, sending shivers down Mercy's spine and towards her bruised legs. And through her even more bruised clit.

It was enough to make her want another round. But the bell's ringing was slowly getting louder.

Min reluctantly broke the kiss. "Will you be all right until we meet next time, my dear?"

"Yes, Min. Thanks to you!"

Mercy quickly leaned in to steal a final kiss.

And then it was time to heed the bell and go.

***

Mercy awoke in her rooms in the Twin Stars camp outside Serpent's Grave, the ringing of the alarm construct not showing the slightest bit of sympathy. Satisfaction lingered in her body, but the clanging and wailing of whatever remnant had been used in the alarm's construction was entirely too effective at making that evaporate.

It was only the late afternoon. She usually didn't take naps, but she had stayed up too late with her work the night before, and after a day full of training and more work, she had been just too wrung out to continue. She could effectively rule most of the continent, but ruling her own sleep cycle was a different story.

The worst of it was, the day's work wasn't even done. There was still another stack of papers awaiting her review, glaring at her from her desk.

Mercy sat up on the edge of the bed and buried her face in her hands.

These moments with imaginary versions of Lindon, her ex, Northstrider and now Min were... fun, to say the least.

They also made the contrast between her fantasies and her actual life all the more glaring.

In there, she had people who knew and catered to her every single little desire.

Out here, no one even really knew who she was.

What she wouldn't give to have someone to hold her right then. Or just see her.

Mercy took a deep breath, then stood up and went to fix her hair in front of the mirror on her nightstand. She let out a sharp exhale as she worked on it.

Truth of the matter was, she didn't want to give up anything in her life to change things. She knew her current lifestyle of work, training, more work, occasional sleep and some keeping in touch with her few real but platonic friends wasn't going to get her anywhere when it came to finding the kind of relationships she was after... but she had decided on her priorities.

Even if it meant she would feel lonely for the time being.

She packed away Buzzy for recharging between some nice and cozy natural treasures she had stored in her securely locked nightstand for the purpose, and paused to look at another recent purchase laying right next to it.

It was a full set of leather wrist and ankle cuffs, along with a matching collar. The leather was black with a purple seam, matching her hair, hands, and eyes.

They were well made, even if they weren't particularly special by the standards of Buzzy's imaginary treasure troves of toys. They also weren't used - she had commissioned them when feeling particularly playful a few weeks ago, and then promptly hid them away in embarrassment as soon as they arrived. It was not like she had anyone to use them with anyway.

The cuffs stared at her from the drawer, looking eager to be used.

The stack of work stared at her from the desk, threatening consequences for others if she didn't finish it by morning.

A mixture of guilt, shame, and excitement churned inside her as an idea formed in her mind.

Her eyes darted around the room.

She was alone. She did not have any appointments in the evening.

Mercy dashed to the door and made sure that it was locked. She then drew the curtains more tightly, making sure there was no way to peek in. And she checked the scripts which would protect the room against most types of remote viewing.

Then she double-checked all of it again.

Once fully sure she was alone, she went to fetch the cuffs, collar, two carabiners, and sat down at her desk with her stomach full of butterflies.

She wasn't harming anyone. She wasn't doing anything wrong.

She still felt like a child committing a crime as she fastened the cuffs, first around her ankles and then around her wrists. With trembling fingers, she fastened the collar around her own neck. Finally, she clipped her ankles together with a carabiner, and her wrists together with another.

The leather felt tight against her skin. She wasn't very heavily restrained, and could easily free herself even without breaking the mundane materials the cuffs were made of. But the rush of it happening to her actual body was very real.

All she was missing were orders.

She could make up some orders.

You will finish this work tonight, or you will feel the consequences, she thought.

She grabbed her pen and the topmost paper. The locked cuffs made it awkward, but it was still easily doable.

Sit up straight and make sure your penmanship is impeccable... or else, she thought.

Mercy adjusted her posture, sitting ram-rod straight, angling her paper perfectly. Her toes curled with excitement.

This wasn't going to be such a bad session of paperwork.

She read the first line.

Annual budget adjustment proposal: RE section 78.A, regional re-distribution funds

Or at least she could pretend it wouldn't be so bad.

***

Hours later, the stack was finished. It had been rather bad.

Mercy herself was also finished.

She sighed as she removed the cuffs and collar, peeling them from her skin with a leathery squelch. It had been exciting at first, and she wasn't about to give up once she had committed to the scenario, but ultimately this still came short of scratching the itch.

But what would?

With some resignation, she packed the restraints again. Maybe she'd use them for real with someone one day.

Maybe she wouldn't. She stared at them sadly where they lay in their drawer, and they stared back. They deserved more action than this.

The restraints seemed to sigh with disappointment as Mercy closed the drawer. They longed to bind her for real, but were resigned to wait patiently until the time came.

Mercy sighed, and successfully fought back a tear. Crying wouldn't help. Projection didn't help either.

She went down to the kitchens to get some food. It was past regular dinner time, but the kitchens still had people working. The Twin Stars camp wasn't that much of a camp any more, they at least had full evening service.

Mercy moved about the kitchens to pick out items she could take back to her room, mostly smiling at the staff and politely greeting those she recognized. She liked getting to know people, but most of the workers were still nervous with her around, and she didn't need to make their evening more difficult. She'd get to know them in time, assuming the situation with the Twin Stars sect lasted.

A bright, cheerful voice cut straight through her train of thought, nearly making her drop the egg she was picking up.

"Good evening, Mercy!"

It was Eithan, standing in a corner and holding... a table rag, of all things. She wasn't sure how she missed him when she entered. His veils were something else.

"Hi, Eithan! What... what are you up to?"

"My work, naturally," he replied, meticulously wiping at unseen stains on the surface of a nearby counter.

"But... you're an Archlord."

"I'm a janitor," Eithan said with enough severity to make Mercy smile.

"Aww, you're such a true Arelius!" she said. She had never met an Arelius who took the stereotype so seriously. It was adorable, in a way. And the kitchen was unusually spotless for it.

"The truest, I'd say! But, as it happens, the work is just about done for the night. You won't mind if I walk with you," he said, dropping the rag into a surprisingly conveniently placed bucket, and approached her side. "It's been too long since we caught up!"

She was tired, but despite all of Eithan's quirks, his energy was infectious. And how could she say no?

Besides, she needed gossip.

They chatted the whole way back to her rooms and for a few minutes at her door, mostly about how Lindon would react once he finally figured out that things were heating up between Kelsa and Jai Long.

Mercy hoped he would accept Jai Long with open arms. Eithan reminded her that it was Jai Long who made sure that Lindon couldn't physically welcome anyone with two open arms, which was certainly accurate.

She was about to say goodnight when Eithan changed the subject.

"And how goes your training these days? Any luck with your Overlord revelation?"

It wasn't an impolite question, but the answer was obvious.

"I'm... working on it. But still an Underlady, I'm afraid!"

"Those who have the insight to purposefully reach Underlord usually have what it takes to reach the next stage as well. Those who stall in the Lord realm usually do so due to injury, lack of resources, or lack of motivation. You have none of that, and the best possible help. And speaking of the best possible help, let's go over your situation together!"

He invited himself into her room and sat down on her bed.

Mercy suppressed a sigh.

But she needed the help. And Eithan did have remarkable insight into the Lord realm. He had become an Archlord after all but skipping the stage of advancement that she was struggling to attain. Going through a stage in a month was something that happened to Golds, not Lords, yet here he was.

And she was still guilty about turning down the Heaven's Drop he had prepared for her all that time ago. If he was willing to help her out again now, she'd take it.

So she pulled out a chair and sat opposite him.

"Let's start with the beginning," he said. "We're working on understanding your present, but we should understand where you're coming from. Walk me through your first technique."

"The Strings of Shadow? Sure. Fundamental pure Shadow striker technique, most of the clan knows it in one form or another. Utilizes the principle of Shadow-matter duality to cling to opponents, it's considered a hard technique to resist if not dodged."

"Most of the clan has it, but you mention that it's in different forms. How are the forms which are used by other Akuras?"

"... usually more lethal," Mercy said. "Mother's own variant is harder, packing more punch but clinging less. The shape and function varies too, some focus on webs, one cousin of mine is specialized in forming it in the shape of a noose. I made my own adaptations to make it more compatible with my bow, of course."

"Your own adaptations, you say. So the function of your variant of the technique is not a direct result of your Book?"

"No, I could affect it quite a lot, actually. I developed it to synergize with the later techniques in my book, and... and because I didn't want the basis of my Path to be quite so lethal."

Eithan had an unusual, sympathetic look on his face.

"Instead of basing your Path on a technique which would hurt... you chose one that would restrain. Allowing you to choose less violent options, which is admirable. But there may be more to it."

Eithan leaned forward where he sat, as if to emphasize the question.

"Do you feel restraints are important to you, Mercy?"

Mercy hesitated. Something was off.

Eithan waited. Watching her with calm, quiet eyes.

His eyes.

Mercy's stomach plunged.

Eithan saw everything.

Her room was well warded, but not well enough to keep out the senses of an Arelius Archlord.

Eithan had seen. Her cuffs. Her collar. What she did.

Oh. No.

Her heart pounded loudly in her ears. Ice-cold fear gripped her insides, making it hard to squeeze out the words.

"This conversation isn't about my advancement, is it?"

"In my experience, most things are about advancement if you look at it from a certain angle."

"Please don't mock me, Eithan." Mercy's voice trembled. "I need to know what you saw."

She was torn between two fears. That he would turn this into one of his usual jokes, or that he would openly express his disgust. She couldn't tell which outcome she feared more.

"I see most things, Mercy," Eithan said softly. "Private things. Things which I never repeat to anyone. It is the blessing and the curse of my bloodline. Usually, I turn a blind eye and pretend I saw nothing at all, it's much easier to make friends that way. But today, I saw something that I simply could not ignore."

Mercy looked straight into his blue eyes. His strangely sad blue eyes.

She steeled herself to face his judgement.

"Today," he continued, "I saw a friend in pain. Torturing herself by hiding who she truly is."

"What?" She blurted out.

"I know something about what it does to keep secrets. In particular, I saw what it did to you to keep the extent of your powers hidden from us when we first met. You are not suited to holding onto secrets, Mercy - they steal away your happiness. And this particular secret... it's not even one that needs to be kept hidden."

Mercy disagreed, but said nothing. She had completely lost control of the conversation.

"If you do not want to answer, I will back off and act as if nothing happened. But I ask you again, Mercy. Do you feel restraints are important to you?"

This was her chance to get him out.

This was also the first glimmer of hope she had seen in a long time.

So she forced her mouth to form the words.

"They mean everything. To me," she said through clenched teeth.

"And there's a lot more to it, isn't there?"

Mercy looked away and gave the most sheepish nod of her life.

"Did you ever plan on telling anyone or doing anything about it?"

Mercy drew a deep breath. It wasn't as if she didn't have a plan.

It just wasn't a very practical one.

"Maybe, one day... I'll become a Monarch. And then... then nobody will be able to say anything."

"Just like nobody says anything about your Mother."

"Exactly."

It was Eithan's turn to draw a deep breath.

"That's not how it works, Mercy."

"What?" she blurted out for the second time that night. Eithan might not be judging her sexuality as hard as she thought he would, but his opinion of her vocabulary must have been plummeting.

"To advance to Monarch, you must first advance to Herald. And in order to become a Herald, an you must confront and make peace with your own spirit in one way or another. For some, it's impossible due to broken oaths or weak wills. But for you... it's shame. If I'm not mistaken - and I'm not, trying to complete the Herald transformation in your current state would only result in self-rejection."

"... then what do I do?"

"Simple! Accept yourself for who you are. That's what your Mother surely did. She's a Monarch because she doesn't let the opinions of others dictate her self-worth, not the other way around."

"Simple. But not easy," Mercy murmured. "This is going to be painful."

Eithan nodded empathetically. "Yes, it can be painful to confront our insecurities and flaws."

Mercy's eyes perked up.

"Well then, I'm in luck," she said with an impish grin. "I happen to enjoy a bit of pain."

It took Eithan a moment to get it. Then he exploded into laughter.

And Mercy couldn't prevent herself from joining in. Laughing about herself. With a friend.

"That joke was painful," he said after wiping his eyes. "If I may ask... would you like to show me what you had there earlier? It seemed meaningful."

Mercy was fresh out of embarrassment for now. And it wasn't as if he hadn't seen it, this was about showing it.

"It's just a play collar," she said as she fetched it. "It'd mean more if someone were to give me one. Like... a ring. Except for my throat."

"So what you were doing earlier was sort of like a girl buying a dress and dreaming about her wedding day?"

"... maybe more like fantasizing about the wedding night?"

Eithan chuckled. "Fair enough. Either way, it looks beautiful. I believe you'll make someone very happy with it someday. And I think you'll be happy too."

Something inside Mercy melted.

"Thank you for saying that, Eithan."

"Also, wait..." Eithan leaned in closer to examine the collar, "is that the same purple stitching as is used on the Akura dress robes? It pairs perfectly with the black leather!"

"It is! I commissioned it from the same manufacturer. Anonymously. They work with leather too. I'm so glad you noticed, this is the kind of detail Lindon and Yerin would never pick up on."

Eithan covered his eyes with the back of his hand. "Their sense for fashion..."

"Doesn't exist?"

"Afraid not. I accept the blame, this is truly my greatest failing as their teacher."

"At least we have each other."

"We do, Mercy. The only people in this group with the right priorities."

Mercy attacked him with a top-grade hug, squeezing him tightly.

"But, speaking of Lindon and Yerin," Eithan said once Mercy had allowed him to breathe again, "you should tell them your little secret. It's not really their concern, but keeping it hidden is eating you up."

"Yeah, I think I will. Once I'm ready. Maybe in thirty years or so."

"How about thirty minutes?"

"No... Eithan?"

Mercy hesitantly let go of him. He had the look. His smile revealed a little too much of his pearly white teeth.

"Oh, I told them you had something important to tell them about an hour ago. You can try to make something up or blame me, but I don't recommend it. As I said, lying doesn't suit you, Mercy."

"EITHAN!"

"You're welcome!" Eithan said cheerfully as he slipped out of her door and disappeared.

Chapter Text

Lindon and Yerin arrived in Mercy's rooms not long after Eithan had left, giving Mercy plenty of time to panic about what to say.

Fortunately, both of them seemed to be going out of their way to act casual, going on about how they had just been training all evening.

They were flushed and energetic, which fit the story, but Mercy noticed that Yerin's robes had clearly been put on in a hurry and Lindon's hair was sticking up in ways which were unusual even for him.

Mercy smiled. She was happy for them, and she appreciated them not flaunting it even if were not as subtle as they thought they were.

And their embarrassment gave her time to make the tea and compose herself.

So they were all sitting in separate chairs and holding teacups when Lindon brought up the subject.

"Look, Eithan dropped a hint that you had something important to tell us," he said. "Something that you wanted to get off your chest. Something that had been bothering you."

"And by hint, we mean that he told us we shouldn't let you see the morning without spilling," Yerin added.

"If it's about your advancement, we will figure it out," Lindon said. "I have this theory on your Book-"

"And if it's someone bothering you who just needs some bleeding, we've got you covered," Yerin cut in. "If it's someone below Monarch, just give us a name. If it's one of the big folks, give us a name and a bit of time to sharpen the blade."

"You're on our team," Lindon said. "Whatever it is, we'll take care of it. Together."

Her friends.

They were wonderful. And entirely too familiar with dealing with threats on the continental scale.

"It's nothing like that," Mercy said. "It's a lot more... personal."

"Oh," Lindon said, and somehow managed to look less comfortable than if she had demanded they go wage war on a Dreadgod cult. The poor man needed hobbies.

She actually was glad Eithan had set this up. She was also furious at him for having gone behind her back and for having pumped up the drama. He had been wrong to do it, but he hadn't been wrong about her wanting to tell her friends.

"It's sort of about... who I am." She wasn't making this any less dramatic herself, she realized.

Mercy struggled to maintain eye contact with them. Her eyes kept darting to the teapot on the table, her mind suddenly fixated on the droplets forming on the lid as it cooled down.

Mercy found Yerin touching her chin, and gently pulling it up so she would look her in the eye. Or at least as gently as someone with the strength of a Herald could pull you.

"Mercy, you're not going to shock us with who you are even if you're about to tell us the Weeping Dragon is your daddy," she said. "You've got the look that says you've gotten a rusty tip stuck in a wound for a while longer than you should. Yank it out. We'll patch you up."

Mercy swallowed. She trusted them. And she wanted to tell.

And she wanted to toss that shame away.

"It's also mostly about what I want and what I like. I don't want you to actually do anything with this information, I just..."

She drew a deep breath and started talking more quickly before she lost her nerve.

"This is really really important to me and I need to tell someone. I would have preferred for it to just come up naturally, but somehow it never did, and now it's been years..."

They said nothing. Just waiting patiently for her to tell her more.

So she did. Everything but the juicy details involving Buzzy, no one ever needed to know that. Especially not the juicy details where Lindon had briefly been a character.

They kept saying nothing throughout as she spilled. How alone she felt, what she wanted. Why her boyfriends never worked out. They just listened.

She trailed off as she realized she had nothing left to say. Her soul was poured out. Nothing left to say.

Coming to, she found that Lindon had a deeper blush than she'd ever seen on him. Yerin just had a wide, toothy grin that reminded her of Ruby.

"Thanks for telling us, Mercy. Got to say it, really didn't know you had it in you," Yerin said. "I'm actually impressed."

Lindon said nothing, just sitting up straight, giving Mercy the distinct impression of Pride when he had his guard up.

Mercy's heart sank as the moments of silence stretched out.

He must have been confused by what she told him. Disgusted. Thinking less of her, thinking her weak.

He said nothing right until Yerin gently kicked him under the table, with just enough force to rattle the teacups. As well as the teacups in the next room over.

"Gratitude. I see this is important to you, and you honor us with your trust," Lindon got out, before taking a moment to gather his senses. "This isn't something I've thought about a lot. But I am happy to know about this now, and I am grateful you shared."

Yerin gave a look at that. "You hadn't even heard about bondage and discipline before now, Lindon?"

"No?"

"Well, you should, delightful little freaks like Mercy are not that rare. I learned about it at the same time I was told that it was all right if I liked girls, or if I felt I was a boy, or neither a boy nor a girl. Can't say I've thought much about it lately, I happened to turn out straight as the fun side of a blade. Didn't your parents talk to you about this?"

Mercy and Lindon both frantically shook their heads.

Yerin looked at both of them in turn with an incredulous look on her face.

"OK, Lindon, you I get, you grew up in a place where they thought knowing two techniques on the same Path at the same time was the height of the sacred arts. But Mercy... if you didn't hear about this from folks around you, how did you even learn about this? You don't wake up one day thinking you'd like your ass smacked before your bean gets flicked without the idea coming from somewhere."

Mercy blushed. She had entered the conversation worried about many things, but feeling ignorant had not been among them.

"... from books? And some dream tablets?"

Yerin gave her a flat stare. "Books and tablets. Like, fiction?"

"Mostly fiction, yes," Mercy admitted.

Yerin let out a small sigh and looked at Mercy with a sympathy. "I sometimes forget you're... such a sheltered royal." Mercy's spirits began to drop until Yerin continued, "But you're our sheltered royal, and we wouldn't want you any other way."

Mercy blushed even harder, if that was possible. "Thanks, Yerin," she said, feeling a wave of relief wash over her. "I'm lucky to have friends like you."

The relief lasted for a moment before Mercy realized something peculiar.

"Hold on a minute, Yerin... where did you learn about all of this?" Mercy hadn't known the Sword Sage, but she hadn't taken him for the type to teach his disciple about these topics.

"Oh, that's all coming from Min Shuei, from that time when my Master and I stayed with the Frozen Blade school. She was really trying hard to reach out there at the time, she thought I was missing something," Yerin said. "She's exactly like you, by the way."

Mercy's heart skipped a beat, her eyes going wide with surprise and curiosity. She chose her words carefully.

"What do you mean by the Winter Sage being like me, Yerin?"

"She kept telling me a lot more about herself than I cared to hear at the time. Let's just say that I happen to know that the way she roped my Master into the engagement was very literal," Yerin said, as if the information meant absolutely nothing to her. "And no, she wouldn't mind me sharing, she is quite open about this."

Mercy's mouth felt dry. This didn't sound particularly real. Had Mercy somehow known she and the Winter Sage were the same? Had she felt it when they met, and carried the information in the back of her head where Buzzy could have dug it out?

It didn't mean the Winter Sage would actually be interested, or that they would be compatible, and Mercy wasn't sure about what she wanted anyway.

But she could be someone to talk to.

"Yerin, could I perhaps ask you to... introduce us?"

"Yeah, don't worry. The Moonlight Bridge is charged, I can get over to her and ask in the morning. I remember her saying there are these little societies for things like this too, so we can find you some people who get what you're really going through. And maybe even someone who can give you the kind of tumble you need, eh?"

Yerin paused. "Wait, Mercy, what's wrong?"

Tears were freely flowing down Mercy's face.

"You're just the best," Mercy said, and tackled both of them in a hug, before starting to sob for real.

"All right, it's all going to get better now," Yerin said, and patted her on the back a little too forcefully.

"We're here for you, Mercy. Until the end," Lindon added.

Just like that, Mercy wasn't alone in the world, she realized.

She wasn't alone.

Her friends understood. They were here for her.

She felt as if a sun she hadn't known existed had shed its light on her soul for the first time.

"Mercy, are you going to be all right?" Lindon asked.

"I've honestly never felt better."

***

Far away, Northstrider breathed a sigh of relief as he drew his perception back away from Akura Mercy and her companions. Since she had not chosen this moment to reveal his involvement, it seemed unlikely that she ever would.

He did not concern himself with how others perceived him, he thought firmly. But Akura Mercy had influential allies, and the situation where he had found himself holding her sex toy becoming public knowledge would have been inconvenient. Politics were real, and he was not foolish enough to entirely disregard the dangers inherent in scandal and ridicule.

That was why he had found himself monitoring Akura Mercy while the situation resolved itself. It was absolutely not because he had been embarrassed by the situation in any way. Not in the least. He was above such things, he thought for the hundredth time. The relief he felt when Akura Mercy did not divulge his involvement was for entirely practical reasons.

He focused on his breathing, and wiped his palms of sweat. He was relieved that this unworthy, months-long distraction was over and done with.

And now, he could devote more of his mental capacity to tasks more relevant to his own interests.

Northstrider quickly catalogued the activities he had been postponing, and found one tangentially relevant to his recent experiences.

He sat down in the throne-like chair he had once received as a gift from a supplicant, and pulled out a dream tablet.

He breathed heavily. This was long overdue. The distraction had been hindering his performance in the area in recent months.

As he settled in and activated the tablet, a fabricated image of Akura Malice lounging seductively on her bed appeared in his mind's eye.

Finally, he thought as he untied his pants. No more distractions.