As a child, I thought people were simple. I took what people showed me at face value. Gordon, my childhood bully, was a chubby, red-headed bundle of evil. My father a cold and distant man lest baited with the allure of summoning. The servants and peasants simple creatures that couldn’t break free from their routines.

After growing up, a combination of my tutors and sneaking into the local tavern taught me how complicated people can be. How they show different faces to different people in different situations. For nobles, the many aspects of socializing are tools to pry away those masks and reveal the vulnerable self most people protect with confidence and indifference.

One of the many things I love about Alana, a delightful surprise I’ve only truly had the chance to appreciate after her confession, is how readily she reveals that vulnerable side to me. Earlier, facing down the disrespectful and demeaning Lucas, she was cold as winter, an impenetrable fortress. In our normal interactions, she’s less stern but still hard as stone. It takes a discerning eye or knowledge of her character to know the soft center.

However, when the doors are closed and the clothes come off, she drops her masks. Her vulnerable self and fragile desires are bared to me, the person she trusts to handle them with care.

Held in Kierra’s arms, her eyes are fixed on me, her usual hard stare softening with a silent plea. They flick to the wall, no doubt wondering which member of her house is listening in on this moment and questioning if she can continue despite that, but without fail, they always come back to me. A helpless attraction.

She moans as a green hand, covered in the glow of physical mana, slides down her stomach and pushes between her thighs. Without prompting, she spreads them further, head lolling forward as Kierra’s fingers move.

“You should know your allure,” the elf whispers as the glow of her magic moves from her hand to Alana’s waist. “Not just to our Lou but to all who will be drawn to your light. Perhaps after tasting a new pleasure, you will be more open to changing, hm?”

“You’re one to talk. You look—haaahhh!”

A breathy moan interrupts her words. My wife, so considerate to make what could be a strange experience pleasurable. Or perhaps doing a little more to sway the saint into ‘improving’ herself as I did. I open my eyes once her moans turn to panting breaths, taking in the view.

A common rule of magic is that it is much harder to create than to change. I don’t doubt my elf, with her nonsensical pure affinity, could create a new organ, in perfect working order, with no problem. However, doing so while buffing Alana with enough strength and endurance to use it might drain a little too much mana. Despite her decision to indulge, she is aware that we are in hostile territory and is preserving her strength.

From the reddish-pink color of Alana’s new rod, I imagine she decided to change the pleasure button above her lower lips, giving it the length and girth needed to do the job. Though she might not have done the future saint any favors. My gift is similar and it’s much more sensitive than a man’s tool. The poor future saint is already drooling, her gaze distant and hazy. That girlcock combined with my body and the effects of my bodily fluids…mm. Hope we don’t break her.

It’s rather…modest. I hesitate to think the word small. Wouldn’t want anyone to feel insulted. My gift isn’t as large as the troll tool I used to employ to please my wife but it was modeled with that size in mind. Kierra obviously likes things big and that is reflected during her ‘turns’. Saints, even Bell, my lustful imp who likes impaling women on her rock, prefers a bigger size, though that’s more for the thrill of dominating her partners rather than pleasure for either party, I think.

Compared to that…I can’t help it. She’s small. Not in a bad way. It’s…cute. Fits her.

“How does it feel?” Kierra purrs.

Alana squeals and bucks her hips as green fingers close over her new member. She fucks my elf’s hand as she’s jerked off, brows furrowed as low, whimpering noises fall from her lips.

As the noises reach a crescendo, Kierra stops. Alana lets out a plaintive little whine after being denied satisfaction. The elf ignores her as she pushes the future saint on top of me. I wrap my arms around Alana’s neck, pulling her into my kiss as I spread my legs. With my wife’s hands guiding her, she easily pushes into me, groaning into my mouth.

Mm. She doesn’t have the size I’m used to but I can feel her. I move my hips, squeezing around her. She lets out the most pathetic whine and comes undone, shivering as she buries her nose in the crook of my neck. Was that…wow, she really came from that? I wasn’t sure as it wasn’t accompanied by the usual result. Guess Kierra skipped on a few functions.

“Surely you have more stamina than that.” The devious elf slaps Alana’s ass with a mana-covered hand. The blonde squeaks as she perks up in more than one way. I sigh in pleasure. “Go on. She is waiting.”

Alana looks at me with wide, desire-filled eyes. “It’s okay, sweetie,” I encourage and I practically see her melt. She really is weak to reassurance, huh. “I’m all yours.”

“I don’t, um—"

“It’s alright.” I pull her down, dropping a playful kiss on her nose. “Do what you want.”

She hesitantly pulls out before just as slowly pushing back in. I continue to whisper reassurances to her and she picks up the pace. There’s no technique, no variance, just the clumsy, desperate jackhammering of a woman who’s lost her mind to a new world of pleasure. I can’t hold back the urge to laugh watching her hump her hips as fast as she can, tongue hanging from her mouth like a thirsty dog and eyes fluttering.

“Lou! LOU! Oh saints, I…hah, hahhh…”

Her hands grab my shoulders with the tightest grip she can muster, which is barely a pinch. I pull her head down so she doesn’t see my smile as she groans my name.

She’s…Kierra made it so I don’t have to worry about hurting her and it feels good but…I’m nowhere near close. Far too used to my barbarian of a wife fucking me till she breaks the bed. I think I’ve found the first flaw to this form. Alana, on the other hand, is a drooling, moaning mess.

“Lou…”

“Mm?”

“Lou…you’re so tight…and warm…”

I meet Kierra’s gaze over her shoulder. She is wearing a full smile, equally amused. I snicker softly as I wrap my legs around Alana’s waist. I wonder if it’s mean that we’re enjoying this for entirely different reasons than the rutting blond. I may not be getting off but my chest is full of warmth and affection. “Just for you, sweetie.”

“Feels…so good…”

“It feels good for me too. I love having you inside me. I want it all the time.” I may be exaggerating a little but she’s so adorable, I can’t help it. Besides, I know the power of dirty words. “Don’t stop, honey. My sweet girl. You’re going to give it to me good, aren’t you? Fuck me till I can’t walk?”

“Yes, yes!” The green glow of Kierra’s magic intensifies. I grunt as her thrusting hips gain more power. Another look to my elf shows her smile is showing more teeth. Evil woman.

The next time she climaxes, Alana throws her head back and screams, clearly no longer caring about being overheard. Her limbs shaking as she comes down from the high, I flip her onto her back. Suppose if I want anything out of this, in a more physical sense, I’m going to have to take matters into my own hands.

Huh. Rarely get to be in this position. When I try with Kierra, she puts me on my stomach in no time. It’s…interesting, feeling her inside me while she gazes up at me with lust and adoration.

Suppose I should do my part to demonstrate the benefits of a generous application of the physical affinity, heh.