Welldark B2 Ch. 05

Lemair hissed something aggressive. Initial defiance quickly made room for resignation. It must have occurred to him that he could do as we had agreed or I would get the administrators involved. At this point he had lost his chance and a good portion of his dignity. To also drag his official standing down would have been cruel beyond what I was comfortable with.

There was empathy to be had for the guy. He was, like me, trying to make himself popular with the opposite sex. His problem was that I was better at it than he was. Of course, that would be frustrating. I had been in his shoes before, not like every attempt at flirting I had ever made had ended up with me getting the girl I wanted.

"Want a word of advice?" I asked, while Lemair browsed through his Ashod to the proper page.

"No... actually... whatever," the guy groaned and moved into a more comfortable sitting position. "Shoot me, wise guy," he said, sarcastically.

"You should tone it down on the desperation and up the confidence," I told him. "Good on you for rising from the glaring crowd, but I don't think you really need to be part of it in the first place."

"...Sure," Lemair answered with that single word and turned the phone towards me. A box showing 'contact info deleted' confirmed that he had held up his end of the bargain. Pleased, I offered my hand. He took it, after some hesitation, and I helped him up. Without any further conversation, he walked away, his shoulders pulled back and without gazing back. As graceful an exit as he could make.

"You know what? I envy that," Voxxy commented, while the crowd around us dispersed.

I winked towards one of the ladies who snuck a last peek at my chest, before asking, "Envy what?"

"This guy thing where you beat the shit out of each other... well, you out of him... and then you shake hands afterwards and just go different ways." The shortstack cackled. "When I get in a fight with another woman, we ain't talking afterwards."

"A fact that I too have observed and to which I have come to this conclusion: for us males, the fight is an initial response. The option is on the table, off the bat, because the physicality of our-"

"Okay, real talk, stud, your way to go full sophistry on everything is super annoying."

"Haaahhh," I exhaled slowly, reinforcing the mental note that I had to find at least one Anomalia member who let me get all of the extrapolating out of my system. "What I'm trying to say," I put it in the boring, common terms, "is that men can and will fight, because harm to us is not as 'important'. For women, violence is the last resort because your bodies have way more inherent value that could be lost."

"You got that right," Voxxy grinned and bounced a bit where she stood, making her breasts jiggle so wonderfully. I was getting more to the point that child-rearing made women more important, on a purely materialistic level, but boobs were a fantastic argument too. "I do owe you something though, don't I?" she asked.

"Indeed, you do," I hummed. "As per our wager, I hereby demand your number."

"Sure thing, just one problem, I'm terribly bad at listing stuff," Voxxy responded theatrically. She waved around a folded piece of paper. "So I wrote it down for you and -- ooooppps," she stuffed the note into her cleavage, "what a terrible accident. I guess someone with big hands will have to dig that out!"

I played along. Whether it was in the way Voxxy had imagined or not was questionable. It was doubtlessly in a way she appreciated though.

Rather than answer, I grabbed the shortstack and carried her to a nearby bench. She let out a surprised 'eeep', but did not struggle. Harshly, I tossed her onto the seat. Her entire body was a quivering display of bounciness, from the ample bosom to the thick thighs. The latter were intensely pressed together, when I maliciously bowed over her. Hard, I grabbed the backrest, framing her head between my forearms.

"How clumsy can you be?" I asked, aggressively. A tiny smile was as much of my true feelings on this act as I let show. Voxxy's expression mirrored that, a mixture between intimidated, amused, and incredibly aroused. Her eyes dashed between my blue eyes, naked chest, and the bulge in my dark pants.

People walked by, while I stared the goblin redhead into submission. Distantly, I wondered just how far I could push this. It was a question of what she would let me get away with, what Esther would accept, and what a teacher coming by would potentially have disciplined me for. For the moment, I was content when her blue eyes stayed permanently locked on mine. She did have sexy, young teacher vibes, with the black skirt of the uniform and those black-rimmed glasses of hers. That only made it more delicious to see her so utterly enthralled in my shadow.

"Answer me," I demanded. "How clumsy can you be?"

"Very clumsy," she responded sheepishly, as if she was in a trance. "You'll have to correct my mistake."

My eyes finally broke from hers and wandered to her bust. She was presenting her tits ferociously. Two buttons were open, the third seemed like it could pop any moment now. Between the light green of her breasts, turned slightly deeper in colour by the flushing of her skin, the white of the paper stuck out clearly.

"Happens that I can also be quite clumsy," I confessed.

"I'm sure your hands won't go anywhere they shouldn't be, stud," she cooed.

Consent could have only been established any more clearly by filling out a legal document.

Taking my right hand off the backrest I reached down and completely missed the note. My fingers 'slipped', moving over the top of her left boob, gliding from where the squishy bag of hopes and dreams was attached below the collarbone all the way under her shirt. By pure accident, I stuffed my entire hand into her bra. Doubtlessly without lewd intentions, I squeezed.

In appreciation of the form of her boob, I moved my hand around the orb of bounciness. From every available angle, I took my chance to appreciate one side of her chest and then shamelessly moved on to the other.

Voxxy bit her lower lip and shuffled left to right, while my digits, one after the other, rubbed over her erect nipple. Too curious to not risk it, I tugged at her bra and got an actual view of the crown of those grassy green hills. Dark green, her nipple peeked back at me, at the centre of a nicely sized areola.

That curiosity sated, I went back to groping and fondling her. Voxxy let out the occasional held breath. Otherwise, she was quiet, letting me do as my heart desired. I always stopped short of doing something that would have made her tits actually pop out of her shirt. That limited my range of operations, but only by so much.

I was most interested in getting a proper idea about her size. She seemed to wear clothes that were just a tad too small for her, from a visual perspective. Investigating physically, it looked like her clothes were actually tailored perfectly to her curves. Those curves were just that seductive. Her tits had that undeniably natural squishiness to them and I could barely wait to find out how they would look without clothes meddling with my perception. How firm were they? Were they smaller than Esther's or the same size? Either was impressive on her small frame.

Time forced me to move my hand to where it was supposed to go. For a moment, I was blessed with complete envelopment by heat and female softness. I could feel my comparably inelegant fingers force her abundant flesh to reshape around them. If there was any benefit to a bra, it was that they kept boobs pressed against an object between them.

'Maybe bras can be useful as titjob assistances... but then who would rather look at a bra than naked tits getting squished together by hands?' I thought while retrieving the piece of paper. It had, by courtesy of heavy breathing, slid a bit deeper in there and also turned damp with sweat. Animalistic instincts told me to sniff it. Not that I needed to catch Voxxy's fragrance. It was a mixture of honey and machine oil. Unorthodox and pleasant, simultaneously. I unfolded the piece of paper, confirmed it was only the number, and then swiftly registered her in my contacts. "So, what are you going to do now?"

"Find a private corner and masturbate while thinking about you," Voxxy answered with respectable shamelessness.

By this point, it wasn't just her previous assurances that made me certain she didn't do this for just any guy. After all I had done around her the past two to three hours, I had left enough of an impact that I could justify her taking special measures for me. "You should control yourself for a little while," I suggested suavely and put my shirt back on. "What's your next class?"

"Magic Awakening."

I wasn't even aware they had that class, but it did make perfect sense in her circumstances. "Alright, how about you come to room 11 in the alchemy branch during the next break? I have my Cooking Class there and my Queen and I eat whatever I make." I grabbed her by the chin. "You should join."

She gave me the slightest, most dedicated nod possible.

_____________________________________________

I was late to Cooking Class. Neither the teacher nor my fellow students even noticed. This late in the semester, we were rarely taught anything new. The first few weeks had included the basics of various knife grips, how to sharpen, optimal strategies for various vegetables, and so on. Basics of culinary expertise, to put it shortly. Attached to each of those lessons had been a meal that utilized them.

Eventually, meal making had become the primary focus of the lesson. The teacher's role was that of an overseer, only participating if someone made rudimentary mistakes. Basically, we were left to practice what we had learned.

While I did enjoy cooking a free meal every week, my consideration of taking the Advanced Cooking Class next semester had more to do with what it offered. All skills here were, as stated, rudimentary. The lectures existed so that students got competent in making basic meals for themselves and didn't just subsist on cheap instant-ramen, chocolate, and the occasional 'healthy' treat in the form of a raw vegetable. Also caffeine. Caffeine as pills, caffeine in coffee, caffeine in energy drinks, and caffeine through pills washed down with coffee brewed with energy drinks as a water substitute.

Personally, I had been tempted by that lifestyle and only the fact that I loved women more than videogames had prevented me from sliding into it. I did still have a minor caffeine addiction though.

In any case, I did want to improve my cooking skills. Yes, I fully expected Aclysia to eventually claim the kitchen as her domain. No, that was not reason enough that I shouldn't be capable of preparing tasty treats. If nothing else, I wanted to have the option to be a useful help in the kitchen. To that end, the more advanced classes on various specializations of dish preparation, from deserts to seafood, could be useful.

Today, the food we were tasked with making was a casserole with a simple pudding dessert. Neither were complicated. When one was given two hours of cooking time, however, the care that went into something as simple as a glass form filled with goodies and cheese became exorbitant. Over the course of an hour, I carefully prepared all the vegetables, decided on a layering order, and considered how I would go about the firmness of my dish. A casserole, in my humble opinion, was more enjoyable when the piece of the dish stayed mostly consolidated. Egg was the binding agent of choice.

Much attention went into the dish. A whole lot of attention, more than anyone needed to hear about. While my creation heated in the oven, I spent twenty minutes chatting with the other students in the room. There were a few women here whom I was interested in. I feared my efforts to that end were spoiled. In my ever-honest flirtations, I had apparently offended someone who was part of a large friend group that was part of this class. Words must have been exchanged outside my reach. Exclusion was too strong a word to describe the treatment I got. We talked, without any of my flirting attempts being taken seriously or even laughed at. Certain was that I had been assigned a reputation that did not make me an attractive prospect.

That Esther came by every week had not changed that. I even felt that it had hardened their resolve to only deem me worthy of entertaining chit-chat. The assumption was that they saw our very physical relationship and decided that it was too much for them. Disappointing, to say the least. It served as a reminder that, for every Esther, Aclysia, or Voxxy I managed to meet, there were about five to twenty women who gave me the pass within five minutes.

I was charming, at least I thought so, and a bit lucky. Neither of those would have served me without being prolific in my attempts. Few people ever got what they wanted without working hard for it. A harem was no exception to that. All the individual rejections were disheartening. They were also the price I had to pay to get what I ultimately wanted.

With my chatter, I aimed to break down the walls that had been erected. An effort unlikely to pay off, but an effort that had to be made nonetheless. It was better than just staring at my cheese melting.

Eventually, I went back to my cooking station, prepared the pudding, and then the class was effectively over. People shared their casseroles, put what was left in containers they had brought along or tossed it away. By the time Esther entered the room, most of the other students had left.

My Queen strutted straight towards me, ignoring everyone else, and sat down on one of the tables at the back of the room. The several kitchens across the room were only for food preparation, actual eating took place back there. Wordlessly, she stared, her eyes wide, her pupils narrow. All signs that she was, well and truly, hungry.

Proper manners would have been to wait for Voxxy. Putting the goblin between Esther and her food would have been the quickest way to ensure that they had a negative first impression of each other. Therefore, as a wise man, I put reality before manners and served the famished lady of my love a first serving of the casserole.

The glass form was placed on a piece of porcelain, separating its hot form from the wood of the table. Careful not to burn myself, I held my creation with the aid of an oven cloth. I cut into the almost smooth surface of molten cheese, quartering my creation perfectly. Sadly, that did not account for much when I had to actually lift one of those quarters out. The egg was not enough to keep it all consolidated and the cheese drew strings. Chaos may have ruined the symmetry of the display, but the sweet and savoury smell meant that the edibility was maintained.

I had barely placed her plate in front of her, when Esther dug in. Chuckling, I watched her diminish the casserole. It was like she was inhaling the food. How she maintained grace while doing that was almost as much of a mystery as the question of when she chewed any of that. 'Actually, she chews pretty little,' I observed. 'Wonder if that's a sign of impatience, upbringing, or her species...'

Food was one of the few things Esther was outwardly impatient about. Even if her upbringing was still shrouded in mystery, she had obviously spent much of her formative years in the upper class. Similarly, I did not know her exact species, but I had narrowed it to about a dozen likely contenders. None of which, admittedly, I knew the chewing habits of.

It honestly could have been any of the three.

Esther was mostly through her first serving when Voxxy peeked her head in. I raised my hand to get her attention. Visibly relieved, she quickly came over to us. "Man, the campus is enormous," she complained. Before I could respond, she had already turned her attention to Esther. "Hey, Voxxy Rundscrew, I guess you're Karitas' Queen?"

"Yes. My name is Esther," the lady of my love responded in her tone. In the presence of a stranger, the true sternness of her tone surfaced again. She eyed the shortstack up and down, like an owl measured a mouse it was trying to swallow whole. "Sit," she ordered, pointing at the chair opposite herself. "We eat first, then we talk."

"Can't we do both at the same time?" Voxxy asked, mildly confused.

"No."

"Not much of a multi-tasker, ey?" the shortstack asked and did not get a response. After I had sat down at the head of the table, between them, she leaned over to me and whispered, audibly, "She always that fucking grumpy?"

I responded with a joking recommendation, "She gets nicer when you do what she asks." My words were swiftly followed by Voxxy's plate and my own getting loaded with our parts of the casserole. While I was on it, I also put a second serving on Esther's plate. That left us with an eighth of the total size of the meal.

Voxxy, despite her minute size, ate the entirety of her serving. Goblins stored excess energy in the pigment that gave them their green colour, rather than fat. A famished member of her species would gradually turn white with remains of green patches all over. Common goblins, that was. No one knew exactly where goblins came from, only that they were present on a vast number of worlds. They were quite prone to mutations that adapted them more to the local environment, so goblins could come in a vast array of small and large differences.

"You really penetrate topics you are interested in, ey, stud?" Voxxy asked.

"I do go deep when it comes to such topics, yes," I responded with a smirk. "I am very attentive as well, never stopping before I know I have come to know all about it. Water?" I raised a pitcher.

"Yes, please," Voxxy pushed her empty glass towards me. Esther did the same. I forced myself to eat the rest of the casserole. It was either that or throwing it away.

"You are talkative," Esther commented on the obvious.

"Ya think?" Voxxy asked, mockingly. It was a bit too sharp for a friendly jab. For the moment, I left my Queen to deal with that as she saw fit.

"Yes," she responded with simple honesty. Her hand lay on top of her glass, the index finger repeatedly tapping the rim as she sorted her thoughts. "Frankly, I am not a great communicator," she stated and glanced over in my direction. "I try not to appear rude. Respond in kind... no, sorry. I ask that you respond in kind."

"Eh, sure, I'll try," Voxxy assured flippantly.

Esther scoffed, unhappy with the answer. Non-involvement seemed like a bad strategy, so I lowered my fork and jumped in as a mediator. "Do oblige my Lady, please, she really is trying her best," I told Voxxy, "and there's no potential of joining my Anomalia without her approval."

"...That's kinda limp-dicked, not gonna lie," Voxxy responded. "I thought you were the 'hands-on' sort."

Esther suddenly stood up and made her way around the table. She turned Voxxy's chair towards herself and then grabbed the goblin by the chin. "Is this what you respect?" she asked, while staring the shortstack down, much like I had done on the bench earlier. This was considerably more abrupt. The effect was similar though.

Slowly, Voxxy nodded. With only a gesture, Esther made the engineer stand up. The mustering she had given her earlier was repeated with greater intensity. Esther circled Voxxy, squeezing and grabbing the goblin in whatever ways she wanted. Although there was the element of physical appreciation, I sensed this was more of a hazing.

Esther was definitely growing into her role as my Queen. Experience from the Anomalia Management Class and previous encounters gradually clued her in on how to deal with prospective additions. This was new though. Esther asserting her dominance this blatantly was a deeply intriguing process to follow. If she got a taste for it, I would not mind. Part of the fun of a harem was that my women could live out their kinks with each other. Esther developing a top preference towards other females would fit nicely with her station.