“A world with folding fans worthy of my Miyo’s request,” Rykard said suddenly. “Sounds like a good phrase for the next Hexagon, doesn’t it?”

  “It does,” Miyo answered, pinly and satisfied. She pyed with the hair behind his ear. “Should I assume that I am to accompany you during that next trip?”

  “You and you alone,” Rykard confirmed.

  “Then the rest of your harem ought to get their fill?” Miyo’s tone made the statement a question. She had been coordinating who got to entertain him during this cleaning session, but the ultimate authority of sexual fulfillment or frustration y with him.

  “I’m a generous Master.”

  That was all that needed to be said for the vampire sve bouncing on his cock to change her approach from side entertainment to true service. Nothing urgent left to discuss, Vyra moaned loudly, as her pace increased. Giant tits jiggled with every plunge, wet from her abundant juices.

  The mood all around grew more heated. Grinding that had been focused on massaging and cleaning him changed to acquire a needy character. Cunts dragged over his legs, while clits were rubbed. Miyo and Lyvia pleaded for his touch, while nudging his hands towards their cunts. Behind him, Mena shifted, so her breasts were in his half-turned face. Helenn pinly masturbated to the show.

  The bath was soon filled with the orgasmic cries of needy submissives. Loudest of all were Vyra’s, predictably, and weakest of all that of Helenn. Their enjoyment was directly reted to how much he was doing to them. His touch was what drove them wild.

  “You must have missed me quite dearly,” Rykard grunted into Mena’s ear.

  “Even allowed to pleasure ourselves and each other, nothing compares to your touch, Master,” the priestess decred with sincere perversion. “Any absence from your magnificence builds our need.”

  “Show me,” Rykard ordered her.

  The order was understood. Quivering from multiple orgasms, Vyra rose from his erection. Her cunt dripped from the load that he had pumped into her a few minutes earlier. His cock was no softer for it, the various magics swirling through his tissues having defeated many sexual hurdles even before he entered this world.

  Rather than stain the water with the seed that dripped from her, Vyra id down beside the bathtub, where Hey soon joined her. One overabundantly endowed woman climbed on top of each other. Monstrously long tongues extended, letting them eat the fresh seed out of each other.

  “Which hole would please you, Master?” Mena’s question pulled Rykard back to the priestess, straddled over his p. Her rear was facing him, twin mounds of chocote that swayed back and forth as she aligned his cock with one hole, then other.

  Rykard hummed. He would have rubbed his chin thoughtfully, had his fingers not been dancing in and out of Lyvia and Miyo. Admiral and queen rested against him, their stern expressions repced with the empty, rexed face of delight. Only orgasmic shivers and lip biting interrupted that dreamy sight.

  “Master,” Helenn swooned, gliding up his chest until her pink lips were in range. To let Mena dangle and because the cherub’s cuteness was irresistible, he answered the kiss. Tongues whirled. The priestess mewled. Her hands kept stroking his manhood between her thick thighs. She knew better than to make her personal frustrations a reason to stop pleasing him. Besides, she was quite literally dripping onto his dick.

  “The proper hole,” Rykard decided, after the messy kiss was interrupted by Helenn bringing herself to orgasm.

  The priestess nodded, then descended. Insistent pressure and wetness enveloped him, while she impaled herself on his cock. The bumps and folds of her cunt twitched around him. Rykard turned his head to make out with Lyvia. He still felt first the absence of female heat from one leg, then the tongue of that same woman gliding back and forth between his sheathed cock and Mena’s clit.

  Tena was locking her sister with the usual delight and Mena was crying with growing ecstasy. Slow, gyrating motions dragged her tight insides over the length of Rykard’s manhood. They were deliberately methodic, to give the druid the ease of following along. Her tongue did not rest with service of shaft and cunt, but instead kept on venturing. Tena kissed his heavy balls, rolled them in her palm with venerating intent, and purred just loud enough to be heard.

  “My sister’s holes are your property, Master.”

  “Y-yesssss!” Mena moaned loudly. “I’m all yours! All yours forever, my venerated Master.”

  “Oh, she was so naughty - I even got jealous.”

  “She tried to satisfy me, but she just can’t get this deep.”

  “She tried to satisfy me in turn, but chase just can’t scratch these itches.”

  “Master, you made us realize how incomplete we were.”

  “We needed a cock to fuck us.”

  “To breed us in Tena’s glory.”

  “Pump twins into us, be they twins of simultaneous conception or true twins.”

  “Your virile seed grows inside us, Master!”

  “Give us more! We beg of you!”

  “”Breed us again and again!””

  The unified cry was the st Rykard could take. He thrust up. Hot, red lips kissed his sack, while it tightened to send spurt after spurt of thick seed into the depths of the priestess. All pleasure building inside the white-haired wood elf was unleashed in that same moment. Rykard did not need to see her cunt to know she was cumming hard. The clenching of her folds was all the proof he needed for that.

  It was just the beginning of the orgy that would take the rest of that day.

  _____________________________________________________________________

  Rykard left after breakfast.

  Him and Miyo climbed into the carriage, waving goodbye to the harem that would take care of everything in their absence. A few messengers were also present, as were the ever-working Buiga, but Rykard cared fairly little about either. He wanted to imprint the various views of his women into his short term memory.

  The ride to the pce he had picked for his next Hexagon was short, just down the south-eastern pathway that connected to the mountain pass that led out of his original Hexagon. What would be a day on foot became a journey of about eight hours thanks to the carriage. They arrived in the afternoon at the corner of the empty frame.

  Starlight Wandering All Worlds remained present. Either the conjured creature anticipated that it would be needed again soon enough or it was interested in watching the summoning take pce. Rykard could not make out a definitive thought through their connection.

  The phrase spoken, Rykard waited for the gods to respond and they did so with the usual swiftness. Gargantuan was the runic network that filled out the two designated pieces of comb, incomprehensible the power that flowed the air a mere arm’s reach away. Earth piled up, ground water soaked into fresh soil, and then the top yer appeared.

  Before Rykard was a nd that bore the soft marks of a long tamed hillscape. Generations had evened out much of the up and down, as they pced houses and streets on it. The occasional field interrupted a constant and loose expanse of family houses and small business. In the far-off distance, Rykard spotted a pronounced cluster of rger buildings. A city, surrounded by kilometres of outskirts too dense to be called a countryside.

  “Well then, let’s get to searching,” Rykard stated.

  Going to the centre of the Hexagon still hadn’t failed him. Any civilization that was aware that they were building something on an Exile Hexagon would logically pce the most important structure in the middle. Even those unaware may do so just because of the geographic makeup inside the Hexagon.

  There were two middles on offer here. Going to the closer one was the only logical choice. By going, Rykard of course meant using his carriage. Why travel in anything less than style?

  Atop the roof of the carriage, Rykard sat. His back was against the railing, separated from it by a cushion that had conveniently id around. More of them served as the bedding for the queen that rested her head on his right thigh. Plucking grapes from a rge cluster, he offered them to the redhead, who enjoyed them as they came.

  Occasionally, Rykard gnced over his shoulder. Predictably, there was a wave of onlookers that were following the giant, celestial stag as it pulled the carriage past them. Little people in little shops, from Rykard’s perspective. Some of them tried to keep up with the carriage, but none of them succeeded. Starlight Wandering All Worlds outpaced them all threefold even at a trotting speed.

  “Any guards foolish enough to try and stop us?” Miyo asked.

  Rykard’s attention returned to her after one more testing gnce. “I saw a few talking amongst themselves, but no one has worked up that courage.”

  Approvingly, the first of his harem nodded. “That means they have basic reason.”

  “Alternatively, they are cowards.”

  “Cowardice in the face of that stag is quite reasonable.”

  To that, Rykard could only shrug. It appeared as a challenge to him, but he was hardly normal. “What are we looking for in your fan?” he asked, to change the topic.

  “I shall know when I see,” Miyo said.

  “Anything a little more concrete, my love?” Rykard asked, almost teasingly. “You are usually more precise than that.”

  “Folding fans for a proper dy are tools of a fine make. I do not know what answer you are looking for, Rykard, besides a folding fan of proper quality and decoration. I will know if I am enticed by what I am beholding when I see it.”

  That was fair enough and so Rykard dropped the topic and let them roll further down the path.

  Between the road network and Starlight’s pace, what could have taken them most of the day was crossed through in just a few hours. Still, it turned from afternoon to night in the time it took them to get to the outskirts of the city proper. The main road was just about broad enough for the carriage to keep on rolling through.

  The centre of the Hexagon rose up in front of them. The setting sun enriched the dark red colour of the giant pagoda that dominated the view of otherwise green roofs. Architecture was roughly reminiscent of Miyo’s home, but differentiated in a few key ways. For example, Miyo’s old home had often sported a specific kind of red archway, which was nowhere to be found here. Walls were often more angur and practical, rather than aesthetic as well.

  Rykard noted the sheer number of food carts around, wheeling about rge shipments of meat and fruit. Had the city been surrounded by sprawling fields or did they grow their pnts and livestock indoors? Some of the halls about certainly were rge enough to make that conceivable.

  “Are we going to keep moving?” Miyo asked.

  A good question. If they kept on rolling, they would arrive at the massive central building partway through the night. That had a chance of making negotiations difficult, since they were moving faster than any messenger that could arrive. Not that it would take more than a gnce out of the window to see them coming.

  Alternatively, they could sleep through the night and enter the central building come tomorrow. That would give whoever was there a moment to prepare for their arrival. As for sleeping arrangements, they could either have Starlight Wandering All Worlds stay active by walking a rge circle or stop and find an inn. Stopping and sleeping in the carriage was, for reasons that only the celestial entity understood, not an option.

  “Let’s find an inn.”

  “An inn?” Miyo asked slowly, an eyebrow raised. She perked up, gncing over the railing, and humming. “I suppose this city should have adequate accommodations.”

  The carriage eventually stopped in front of what Rykard regarded as a rentable space. Not much guessing was involved. The script of the Hexagon was the common one, even if the lines were a bit more flowy than he was used to from Troyk. ‘Quite the typical city. Mostly humans, with all kinds of other races mixed in,’ Rykard thought, while crossing the sidewalk. The cosmic stag disappeared behind them.

  The king pushed open the doors of the establishment. Inside, he found the harmonious sounds of a harp being plucked. The foyer was empty, safe for an indoor fountain that rose from the marble tiles and the reception desk at the back.

  The woman standing behind it was the embodiment of the smug servant. She knew she worked for a pce of riches and she acted the part. Just the way she stood, straight, hands behind her back, head softly tilted, exuded a sense of withheld superiority. She mustered the approaching duo with interest. Neither Rykard nor Miyo were poorly dressed and therefore passed the first test.

  “Welcome to the Golden Opportunity,” she greeted them. “I have never seen you two before, have you been added to the registry recently…?”

  “I’m king Rykard of New Eden, the Contender that summoned this Hexagon, and I would like to stay the night,” he introduced himself.

  “I can take that as a no?” asked the receptionist and grabbed a book to start flipping through.

  “...No, I am not on your registry,” Rykard answered, more than a little perplexed. He could understand panic or veneration considering what had happened, but apathy puzzled him. “Did you not hear what I just said?”

  “King Rykard of New Eden, the Contestant,” she repeated in a tone so skillfully bored that no offense could be taken. “You are more certainly dressed well, sir, but, assuming you are truthful about your status, we still do not serve whoever enters the room. Unless you are entered into the registry as a person of sufficient importance, we do not offer a stay.”

  “I arrived here in a cosmic stag drawing a mithril carriage.”

  To that, the receptionist raised an eyebrow, now interested. “Is it still parked outside?”

  “...No,” Rykard admitted.

  “Ah. You will excuse my skepticism.” The receptionist raised her nose slightly higher. “Unless you have verification of your importance, I recommend you leave, sir.”

  Rykard’s left eye twitched.