Rykard did not dream that night.

  An hour had been spent fucking Vako and Cecilia. Another three hours had been spent fucking Vako, Cecilia, Helenn and Amaya. Then Rykard had gone to eat something. Then he had fed them all, used Restoration magic to let them pull back to being half-reasonable, and then he had fucked them for the remainder of the day.

  Only at the very end, when each of them was a mess coated in sweat and sexual fluids, had Rykard finally elected to leave the room for good. When he had asked for directions to the royal bedchamber, he had only gotten fingers pointing them in the direction. Every st member of the castle was too turned on to speak. The air was thick with the heavy smells of prolonged lovemaking and the pheromones of those that had listened to the debauched cries.

  Rykard had spent the st hour of his day meticulously cleaning his submissives. His touch had been gentle, the magic woven as carefully as the bathing sponge had been moving soap and hot water over sensitive skin. The sex sves were fucked silly, only capable of giggling and kissing. At best they would have hazy memories. Rykard took the deepest care anyway. There was no more important time for a dom to know tenderness than during aftercare.

  One after another, he had dried them off, moved them to the massive bed at the centre of the royal quarters, and tugged their naked forms in with a kiss to the forehead. They had each passed out instantly, too tired even to snuggle up to him once he took his pce between them. He yawned, and swiftly drifted away himself.

  While his body slept, his mind remained awake.

  Rykard knew that kind of trance. He had experienced it a few times in his life, usually at the eve of great battles. The accomplishments swelled his soul, cracking away at the previously thought limits of his capabilities. Ambient mana served as an extension of his senses. The mage king could feel himself growing in tandem with his sexual exploits of the st few days. Even for him, the recent days had been exceeding expectations by an order of magnitude.

  Then he felt her again.

  Rykard ended his dreamless sleep with the ease of opening his eyes. He was perfectly rested. Restoration magic flowed through his magical circuits. Alchemically enriched blood pumped through his strong heart. He had not moved, half sitting, half-ying against the luxurious headboard of a bed five metres across, fnked by two shortstacks on one side and a shortstack and a bunny woman on the other.

  A gentle, white light manifested at the bottom of the bed. Its luminescence was diminished by a gradient bck frame containing it, as it grew into the form of a woman. Rykard followed the shaping of her curves with civilized interest.

  Short, she was, the shortest in the room, if only by a centimetre. Huge breasts rose from her chest, their size dominating the upper half of her frame. They were firm, the hard nipples perky, and of a porcein white colour. Between those magnificent mounds, between cleavage and colrbone, sat a gold-trimmed ruby, embedded into her divine flesh.

  The whiteness continued down her ft stomach. From the underside of her softly drooping breasts to the pink crest that adorned the skin above her womb, it was only a short trip. Even shorter was the one from there to her pale pink pussy. Below the swelling lips of her sex was the inside of her thighs. Thick thighs, truly thick thighs, meaty enough to be worthy of the wide hips and plump ass that counterbanced the double-roundness of her top.

  Only the insides of those godly thighs were white. A gradient border separated it from the bck that took over the rest of her legs. The texture of the skin there was subtly different to the eyes. However, it remained unmistakably smooth in the way it stretched under the silver light of her own creation.

  The bck skin went all the way down the tips of her toes. It also went up her sides, disappearing from Rykard’s view where her breasts dispyed themselves, and then took over again by the shoulders. Her arms waved once, a gesture to quiet the flow of magic, before moving the nimble hands cutely behind her back. A bck tail curved anticipatingly behind her, the arrow-like head highlighted by three golden beads underneath its base.

  Rykard’s gaze wandered up her slender white neck and to her face. Like so many of her short and stacked followers, her head was rger retive to her frame than taller humanoids. Its round shape lent itself to cuteness. Her features were that of an erotic being. Her left eye was pink, the right one golden, and both contained the fullness of her presence, mighty, ancient, and dedicated to the current act. Golden lips spread in a little smile. Her cute nostrils fred, taking in the scent of the room. There was no sweat or other unpleasant fragrances, only the pheromones of four women sleeping off their cock drunkenness.

  The woman’s feet did not touch the ground. She hovered, floated, her every motion smooth. Gravity did not affect the cascade of her hair whatsoever. Silvery white, wild and wavy, the incredibly long strands started. Around the middle of her back, they transitioned to a pure bck. Around the tips, reaching all the way to her feet, they assumed a soft, dark red tinge.

  A pair of horns curved out from that hair. They were just rge enough that Rykard thought his hands would fit around them. Between the curved tips of those smooth extensions hovered a golden ring of light. The halo was humble, despite its intricacy on a magical level. Who she was, Rykard had known from the start. A gnce at that halo was the confirmation that he wasn’t just looking at an avatar.

  Subana had come to him in her entirety. All of her soul was in this one pce, this one flesh.

  Without a word, the goddess of fated submission hovered over. She settled just south of his extended legs, pced her hands down, and then bowed her head until her forehead touched the mattress. She held the position for five full seconds before turning her hands upwards. Divine magic manifested into a ring, the ring grew into a band that could have been leather, a buckle at the front holding it together. A colr, proper for a pet, with a tag already hanging from the front. On the silver metal, three words were engraved: Property of Rykard.

  Hands raised, head lowered, she awaited his action.

  Many questions could have been asked about the propriety of a goddess offering herself like this in the middle of the game. Rykard did not care for any of them. As a man, there was only one action to take at a time like this.

  The colr was heavier than it looked. Rykard lifted it effortlessly. Eyes closed, Subana lifted her head in equal measure. Sitting upright, she tilted her head back further, offering her white throat for anything he pnned.

  The colr was opened, weaved between the back of her neck and her wild mane, then closed again. “Ah."...!" A gentle, depraved moan escaped Subana when he cinched the proof of her submission tightly. Expertly, he closed the buckle, securing it all in pce. Nothing stuck out. Everything was right where it belonged.

  Rykard grabbed the chin of the goddess. “Look at me,” he ordered her. The white lids opened gracefully, her big eyes beholding him with arousal as deep as the ocean and the adoration Rykard wanted in his permanent property. “What do you call me?”

  “My fated Master,” spoke Subana, her voice like a… no, there was no just comparison. She sounded like the goddess of fated submission addressing her beloved. Nothing more. Nothing less.

  Rykard leaned forward and cimed her golden lips. There was no back for her from that point onwards. When he tasted her sweetness, he tasted a kiss guarded for millennia. This could only be offered once and he would take it all with pride and honour in his soul.