“So...” Krvavy idly runs her fingers through Khalia’s hair, petting the Orc sleeping by her side. “How are you doing?”

  “You are asking me that now?” The faintest bit of derision tinges Thea’s tone as she stares back at the barbarian.

  “Well... Yeah.”

  The noble brat pces her near-empty bowl of oatmeal down with a rather exaggerated sigh. The food may be a little bnd on account of them needing to ration the few spices they have, but it is better than having stew for three meals a day every day. “I am fine.”

  “Did you level up again?”

  “No.” Thea grumbles back, her kissable lips twisting down into a frown.

  “I’m sure it’ll happen soon enough.” Krvavy pats her sweet and sour brat on the head. That hand lingers, simply resting atop a bed of silken silver-blonde hair. “You’re making progress with your magic, right?”

  “That depends on what you mean by progress.” Thea unhappily crosses her arms. She isn’t exactly pouting, but this is pretty close. “I can... channel the energy a little easier, but that is about it.”

  A smile pys at Krvavy’s lips, genuine and warm and loving. And mildly teasing. “Well, now that I’m back I can help you with that.”

  The bratty noble girl’s face immediately flushes red, as she knows what kind of help she’ll need for her Sex Magic. “O-oh! Look! The crone is waking up! Go bug her instead!” Thea hastily tries to shoo the barbarian away.

  Which said barbarian allows.

  Krvavy ruffles her beautiful brat’s hair, slightly annoying the girl, before rising to her feet. That sudden movement causes Khalia to make an unhappy noise, but the Orc remains asleep. As much as Krvavy would like to keep bugging Thea, she does need to have a... chat... with Beryl.

  “Nnghh~!” The Elf trembles and all but moans as she stretches her arms straight above her head, putting her pert breasts on full dispy. A beautiful sight, on any other day. “Mornin’, my dearest love...” She sleepily yawns out.

  “Get up. We need to talk.”

  Beryl tiredly blinks her hazy, half-lidded eyes as she stares back up at the barbarian looming above her. A second ticks by, and then another, before her long and pointed ears begin to slowly droop down. “Alright...” Her slim shoulders sag as she heavily exhales. “Where... where do ya want ta do this...?”

  Krvavy turns and begins to head off without a word, pausing briefly as she passes through the open doorway that separates her home from the rest of this cave. The near silent pat pat pat of bare feet against stone assures her that Beryl is indeed following her. But to where? A part of her wants to have this discussion in the hot springs, where it is nice and comfortable and easy to rex, but Inanna is down there having a bath right now. So... guess the storage area will have to do. It will be private, at the very least.

  Anxiety gnaws at the Drakling’s heart as she turns and heads in that direction. She does her best to ignore that unpleasant feeling.

  The short walk is over almost as soon as it began. Krvavy’s shoulder thumps into the rough cave wall. She crosses her arms and leans back, making her displeasure immensely obvious. But she can’t help but feel like she just looks... defensive. Her fingers idly drum away atop her tense biceps.

  Beryl is clearly still in the process of waking up as she shuffles into the center of Krvavy’s meager hoard, coming to a stop where the cold and unfinished floor is empty of anything but herself. She yawns and gnces down between her feet. With a light shake of her head, she carefully lowers herself to the ground, crossing her long legs and resting her hands in her p.

  Silence drags on, growing more and more uncomfortable by the moment. “Do you have anything to say for yourself?”

  “Ya lookin’ fer an excuse...?”

  Krvavy’s eyes narrow, gring harshly at her groggy Elf.

  “Ah’m sorry, my dearest love.” Beryl tiredly sighs. She looks so... small... right now. “Ah really am. But Ah... Ah’m not sure wha’ ya want ta ‘ear.”

  “What made you think that restraining me was a good idea?” The barbarian bristles, her every breath growing heavier as she nearly growls that question. Her skull pounds with the memory of being bound in pce, of being unable to move as she is used by someone that she should have been able to trust. “Especially... Especially after it became obvious that I wasn’t enjoying it?”

  “Ah wasn’t thinkin’. Ah was upset. Ah got carried away.” The Wood Elf weakly shrugs. Her blue-green eyes drop down to her loosely csped hands, watching her fingers fiddle and dance with each other. “Ah... Ah’m sorry... Ah didn’t intend ta use those vines tha’ way. It just... ‘appened. Ya got injured. Ya were reckless. Ah... Ah needed ya ta listen. Ah needed ta keep ya safe, secure. Just thinkin’ tha’ ya could ‘ave died... again... Ah can’t... Ah couldn’t...”

  “You almost killed me st night.” Krvavy harshly points out, the corner of her eye twitching slightly. “Did you not see how much I came?! Did you not think for a moment that it was too much?!”

  Beryl winces, recoiling as if she had been spped. “My... my dearest love... Ah’m sorry... Ah’m so–”

  “Are you just going to say sorry again and again?!” The barbarian’s voice wavers as she struggles to keep from truly shouting. Her slightly blurred vision clears a little as she blinks and blinks again. “Is that it!?”

  “Ah...” Beryl takes a very deep breath, ignoring the tears welling up in her own eyes, even as they trickle down her cheeks. “Ah should ‘ave released ya after tha’ scoldin’... But Ah... Ah wanted ta pleasure ya, ta give ya a chance ta rex and get the relief ya so desperately needed without ya ‘avin’ ta work fer it. Ah wanted ta show off wha’ Ah’ve been practicin’, wha’ little bit o’ improvement Ah’ve made wit’ my magics. Ah wanted ta yell at ya and ta punish ya, ta make sure ya knew the pain and fear tha’ yer absence caused us...”

  “So you did it all at once.” Krvavy’s growing anger chills, fading into a cold and familiar... emptiness. She can’t keep the disappointment and the pain out of her voice.

  The tanned tomboy pulls her knees up to her chest, squishing ft the small mounds of her breasts. “Aye...” She nearly whispers out that single word, grimacing as if it were a bitter poison on her tongue. “As Ah said, Ah got... carried away. Ah shouldn’t’ve...”

  Krvavy purses her lips and stares at her Elf for a few long moments. “And the trait?” She eventually asks. “What excuse do you have for forcing me to upgrade it? For making me waste favour on it?”

  “Fer tha’ one specifically...? Selfishness. Nothin’ more.” Beryl shudders, shame and guilt dripping from her every word. “Ah wanted ta be fully coated in yer essence, ta bathe in yer virile seed. Ta be marked, beyond any doubt, in yer scent. Ta indulge in... in ya. But more than all o’ tha’... Ah wanted ta put off yer next... yer next adventure. It’ll be a while longer until ya can upgrade yer Naturists Blessin’ now, and Ah...” the Elf’s voice weakens even further. “Ah will do everythin’ in my power ta stop ya from goin’ off again before then...”

  The barbarian bites the inside of her cheek. An aching pain, sharp and yet dull, pulses from inside her heart. Krvavy wants to be angry with her Elf. She wants to be furious about what Beryl did to her and to Khalia. But she... she can’t quite muster up the energy to even try to keep her rage burning. Not with this sight before her. Not with Beryl curled up and trembling like this, like she so often did herself...

  Heat flows down Krvavy’s cheeks in messy streams.

  A part of her can’t help but feel that... that this is all her fault. Even though she knows better than that. Krvavy may not be entirely innocent here – it was still her actions that led to all of this – but that doesn’t absolve Beryl from the bme. That Elf ultimately decided to do what she did. No one forced her to go so far. No one made her continue even after it became obvious that Krvavy wasn’t enjoying what was happening. No one but herself.

  Krvavy pushes off from the wall and takes a step forwards. Her knees thump into the ground with enough force for it to hurt. But that pain goes ignored. Her arms wrap around the tomboy’s trembling body, pulling that softly sobbing woman in for a tight hug.

  “M-my dearest love... Ah... Ah’m sorry... Ah’m...”

  “Shhhh...” The barbarian’s fingers softly stroke through short and messy strands of brunette hair. “Shhhhh... Shhh....”

  “Ah’m such an idiot...!” The Wood Elf woman weakly wails, burying her face in the crook of Krvavy’s neck. “Ah knew ya weren’t ‘appy wit’ wha’ Ah was doin’, but Ah kept goin’ anyways...! Ah thought tha’... tha’ it wouldn’t be so bad...! Tha’ ya deserved it...! Tha’ maybe ya were even pyin’ along, actin’ angrier than ya were...! Stupid...! Ah’m so, so stupid...!”

  The dying embers of Krvavy’s rage fre up at those words. She hates seeing her girls cry. She hates being the reason why any one of them would be upset. But more than that... she hates it when they talk down about themselves, when they degrade and belittle themselves.

  “My dearest love...!” The tanned tomboy abruptly pulls back, her shaking hands grasping onto the Drakling’s upper horns. Her tear-stained face is twisted with anguish and despair. “Please...! Please...! Wipe away the failure tha’ Ah am...! Remake me inta someone better...! Someone who can’t make such a stupid mistake...! Plea–!”

  “Beryl...!” The barbarian’s heart hammers away in her ears as she furiously growls out in warning. That Beryl would even suggest such a thing...! “You want to be punished, is that it?!”

  Relief and fear alike fill the Elf’s wet and teary eyes. She nods her head without a thought.

  “Then...!” The anger that Krvavy felt yesterday, when she pinned Beryl beneath her precious puppy’s weight, comes rushing back to her. “Then you aren’t allowed to get yourself off! Not with your fingers, not with vines, not with anything! You’re not allowed to let Khalia eat you out! You can only watch as I fuck the others! For a... a whole week! And if you slip up, then it doubles! Do. You. Understand?”

  Something akin to disappointment fills Beryl’s face. Yet still her shoulders slump as tension leaves her body. A resigned sigh, long and weary, escapes past her lips. “Ah... Ah understand...”

  “Good.”

  The Elf doesn’t resist as she is pulled back into the barbarian’s embrace, held so firmly and tightly that she could never hope to escape. Her arms, still trembling and unsteady, slowly come to rest around Krvavy’s shoulders, returning her lover’s hug with what energy she can spare.

  Krvavy’s cheek presses into the top of her Elf’s head. She... is thankful that Beryl can’t see her face right now. A deep, red hue colours her wet cheeks. The fmes of her rage sputter and die once more, drowned out by... embarrassment.

  That punishment... For fucks sake... what was she thinking...? She wasn’t thinking, that’s the issue...

  At least... at least it is how Krvavy originally wanted to punish Beryl, yesterday in the heat of the moment when the wound was fresh and raw... But... Is it too much? Maybe. A whole week of suffering is a lot more than Krvavy had to endure at this Elf’s hand... Is it not enough? Maybe. This won’t be pleasant for Beryl, but it won’t be as agonizing as what Krvavy had to go through...

  Either way, it is too te now. The barbarian has said that this will be her Elf’s punishment. And she isn’t taking that back.

  The weight on Krvavy’s shoulders slowly fades away as she... as she simply rexes and hold her Elf in her arms. Seconds turns into minutes. Tears slowly dry up and shuddering sobs fade away.

  “My... my dearest love...?” Beryl’s voice is soft and hesitant. She doesn’t bother to lift her head, keeping her face buried in the barbarian’s bosom. “Wha’... wha’ is the next tier o’ Superior Stud...? If ya don’t mind me askin’...?”

  A wave of annoyance washes over Krvavy’s mind. Her jaw sets and –

  She sharply exhales.

  It took her a second, but... Krvavy knows full well what the Elf is doing. Beryl is giving her something to focus on. Something other than the unpleasant and worried thoughts that usually linger in her mind after something upsetting has happened. Beryl is giving her a distraction. Which isn’t the worst idea. It is just... the Elf really could have chosen a better one.

  Still... Krvavy shouldn’t let what happened yesterday taint her view of that trait. She shouldn’t let it become a reminder of Beryl’s mistake. A mistake that she would honestly rather forget. Otherwise she’ll grow to loathe looking at her stat sheet.

  Which means...

  Superior Stud III: 6 Divine Favour. Can now increase fertility up to 200% of its base level, and all of your sexual activities cause up to +50% pleasure to those involved. Upgradable.

  The barbarian’s eyes rake across those words. She lets her thoughts fade as she focuses on just what is in front of her.

  This next upgrade is... not the best, but neither is it the worst. The extra fertility doesn’t really matter to her. Not unless she was trying to breed her girls, which... That won’t be for a long, long time. If it is even possible, what with them being such different races and all...

  As for the increased pleasure... It isn’t bad. She does like it when her girls enjoy themselves. But she doesn’t exactly need help satisfying them. Krvavy is already more than capable of making them cum their brains out. At least when they deserve such a treatment. Though, that said, it would be quite helpful for getting the most out of Thea’s sex magic. After all, Nymph’s Respite turns the pleasure that girl receives into health and mana regen, so more pleasure just makes that better.

  But even then, it just isn’t worth the cost. At least not right now when Krvavy has more important traits to buy.

  “It makes me more fertile and makes sex more pleasurable for whoever I fuck.”

  “Huh...?” Beryl slowly pulls back, tilting her head in confusion as she meets Krvavy’s gaze. The whites of her eyes are pinkish and bloodshot. She blinks, a look of realization passing over her face. “Oh... Is tha’ wha’ the... wha’ the next upgrade does...? Less excitin’ than I was expectin’...”

  Krvavy just shrugs as they fall back into silence. And while the quiet surrounding them isn’t exactly unpleasant... She would much rather hear her Elf’s voice. “Why... why do you even like my cum so much?” The barbarian slowly asks, biting the inside of her cheek. “Weren’t you a lesbian before... all of this?”

  “Why...? Ah... Ah’m not sure.” A soft sigh accompanies Beryl’s uncertain answer. “Maybe it is simply a desire Ah’ve always ‘ad but never got the chance ta indulge...? Ah am not attracted ta men, and Ah ‘ad never met someone like yerself before.” She pauses briefly, staring off into the air. “Years and years ago Ah ‘ad wanted ta ‘ave a child wit’ my... my lost love. But tha’ was an unachievable dream we both gave up on... Though recently Ah ‘ave caught myself wonderin’ how things would’a been different if she ‘ad been... more like ya.”

  The tanned Wood Elf closes her eyes and dwells on her memories, a deep feeling of wistful sadness filling the air around her.

  Krvavy tilts her head back, staring up at the rough stone ceiling above. Her hand slowly trails up the tanned tomboy’s toned back, fingers brushing over practiced muscles and the ridges of a spine. She... didn’t expect a single question to have such an effect on Beryl.

  “Apologies, my dearest love.” Beryl’s palm gently presses against the barbarian’s cheek, guiding Krvavy’s gaze back down to her. “Ah shouldn’t be thinkin’ about all o’ tha’.”

  “It’s alright.” Krvavy reassures her Elf, though she doesn’t really know what to say beyond that. Maybe she should change the topic? Get Beryl thinking about something else, something more pleasant than old memories? “What...” Krvavy slowly starts. The only thing that comes to her mind is... not the most pleasant for her. But... “What was it that you wanted to show off anyway? Was it the vines?” She can bear it.

  “No.” The Elf replies with a gentle shake of her head, her lips curling into a soft smile. “Those were just a modification ta my Tanglin’ Brambles, makin’ them thicker and removin’ the thorns. Wha’ Ah wanted ta show ya was the sap. Tha’ is somethin’ new. Kinda...”

  “Is it? Don’t you already have a spell that does something with sap?”

  “Aye, but tha’ is completely different.” Beryl gently insists. Her thumb brushes over the little patch of bck scales that rests beneath the Drakling’s eye as she continues to half cup Krvavy’s chin. “Tha’ spell, Leechin’ Sap, takes life from whoever is covered by the sap and sends it ta me. But the stuff tha’ Ah gave ya restores ‘ealth and stamina ta whoever consumes it. Or at least it should. Ah’m... still workin’ on it. Don’t even ‘ave a spell fer it yet...”

  “So... you made me drink some magical paste that you weren’t even sure would work?” The barbarian questions, unable to keep the cold tone out of her voice.

  “Oh! No, no, no!” The tanned Elf hastily waves her hands in front of her. Despite how little space there is between her and her lover. “Ah just can’t get it ta do quite wha’ Ah want it ta! Tha’ is all! It mostly restores stamina right now, but Ah’d rather tha’ it be better at healin’! Ah’d never use ya ta test somethin’ like tha’!”

  Krvavy narrows her eyes at the Elf. She believes Beryl, of course, but that doesn’t mean she still can’t be a little annoyed. The barbarian sighs and dismissively shakes her head, but in doing so her gaze falls on the grey rock bear pelt loincloth resting atop a sheet off to the side. “Is that still not done...?”

  “Hmm?” Beryl tilts her head and turns to where Krvavy is looking. “Oh. No, it is not. Ah still ‘ave some... finishing touches ta put on it.”

  The barbarian simply raises an eyebrow at that, as Beryl has had more than a week to work on it. How long does she need?

  “Ah think tha’ Ah’ll be done wit’ it around the time ya upgrade yer Naturists Blessing.”

  Krvavy immediately purses her lips and gres at her Elf. Beryl just stares back at her, doing her best to smile innocently. The corners of that tomboy’s lips quiver slightly, struggling to keep up this fa?ade. Well... It isn’t like Krvavy needs that loincloth anytime soon, so she might as well indulge this Elf of hers.

  “Guess that is all then.” The barbarian clicks her tongue and pulls back, reluctantly releasing Beryl from her embrace. She rolls her shoulders as she stands back up. “Remember your punishment, because I... I am serious about that.”

  “Yes, my dearest love, Ah know.” Beryl replies with a nod, taking Krvavy’s hand and letting herself get pulled back up onto her feet. “And... even if ya don’t want ta ‘ear it... Ah’m sorry. Ah really am.”

  Krvavy simply grunts as she turns and heads back down the path, followed closely by her Elf. The short walk goes by in silence, though that quiet ends as soon as they pass through the doorway into their bedroom.

  “Uh, my dearest love...?” Beryl begins and immediately trails off, unable to do much more than gesture towards Inanna with a slightly dumbfounded look on her face.

  The Dwarf is sitting by the firepce, completely naked with her body still glistening after her bath. She is trying to dry off her thick coal-bck hair, but the sheer amount of it is making that a little difficult for her.

  “Ya didn’t ruin ‘er clothes already, did ya...?” The Elf continues after a few moments of stunned silence.

  The barbarian shakes her head at that, answering the question while also expressing her disappointment at the clearly low expectations that Beryl has for her. “She doesn’t really see the point in wearing her dress, considering that we don’t wear anything.”

  “Hmm.” A look of appreciation fills Beryl’s face as she appears to rethink her view of this Dwarf.

  Krvavy heads over to Inanna, leaving the Elf to her thoughts.