Chapter 42 - Blond Ambition (NSFW)

The parchment crumpled slightly under my grip. I stared at the rows of ink detailing the state of my province. 

Azula had gutted the local garrisons when she executed the drunken fool stealing from me. 

The only soldiers she kept were the elite, folding them directly into her own personal vanguard. That left my territory heavily dependent on her forces to lock down the profitable portals. 

At the end of the day while her troops were loyal to her they were ultimately the fire lords soldiers. I have no doubt there are a few reporting everything back to him.

And that leads me to my current dilemma, I needed to look into growing my own standing army to hold the borders. A few elite fighters were great for clearing dungeons, but holding hundreds of miles of wilderness, and keeping order, required sheer numbers that I currently lack.

For now, my peerage was operating like a perfectly oiled machine. They were tearing through the northern territories, gutting minor portals for every possible resource and right now the most valuable resource to me is ores and meat. Ores to forge weapons and meat to strengthen the soldiers to at least genin levels, most lords wont invest so much into normal soldiers, maybe just their elite samurai, but id like to have my own elite forces.

The only downside was the sheer volume of logistical reports piling up on my desk.

The heavy wooden door clicked open. Footsteps tapped lightly against the floorboards.

Samui walked into the study. Her golden hair caught the morning light filtering through the window. She wore a tailored black uniform that hugged her heavy curves perfectly.  Its been a few days since I reincarnated her and what better position can she play while we wait for Kumo than a slutty secretary.

The evil peace really did a number on her loyalty, it was as I guessed reincarnating people that are dead automatically makes them loyal.

Something I can really abuse in the future.

Watching her move, I felt a deep wave of appreciation for Azula's seal work. Samui did not leak a single drop of demonic energy. She felt exactly like a living human with a dense, natural chakra network. Kumogakure sensory ninja would never be able to tell the difference. For my plan to go off without a hitch it'll be necessary for her to appear as if nothing about her has changed.

She stopped at the edge of my desk. She dropped two thick folders right on top of my existing pile.

"Master. I have some more paperwork for you."

I let my head fall back against the leather chair with a loud groan. "I haven't even finished the first stack you brought me."

Samui tilted her head. A faint smirk played at the corner of her lips. "Why don't you just use shadow clones?"

"I can't." I rubbed the bridge of my nose. "The stubborn bastards keep dissipating themselves just to get out of doing desk work. I ended up  creating as many as my reserves could handle and sent them out into the mountains to scout instead."

Samui laughed. The sound was rich and completely relaxed. "I always thought shadow clones were supposed to follow orders strictly."

"They are." I picked up a pen and tapped it against the wood. "It took me a month of nagging Anko to get the hand seals for the technique. But I started infusing demonic energy into them to help with my sensing abilities. It seems the interaction with demonic power made them a lot more rebellious than I'd like.."

I looked at the map spread beneath the folders. "My lands have a massive stretch of uninhabited mountains. I am terrified of a spatial rift opening somewhere deep in the peaks where we won't find it until it is far too late. If you hadn't supplied the information on that portal, we might not have even known about that specific portal."

A cold shiver crawled down my spine. The memory of what lived inside that border rift was entirely too fresh.

Fucking Acromantulas. Straight out of the Harry Potter universe. The massive hairy spiders bred and expanded their territory like overgrown rats. My mind kept flashing back to an old movie from my past life called Eight Legged Freaks. Some of the spiders in that film grew to the size of a transit bus. I absolutely hated spiders. The thought of those monsters absorbing nature energy or mutating into massive chakra beasts made my skin crawl. My first instinct had been to dump a ridiculous amount of fire into the cavern and walk away. But their silk possessed incredible tensile strength and conductivity. It was too valuable to burn.

I pushed the spider thoughts away and looked back at the map.

Samui tapped a manicured finger against the parchment. "What about the sensory net you proposed? The one to monitor the entire territory. Azula did an amazing job on my concealment seal. Is she still working on the net?"

"Azula is a genius," I replied, my tone turning practical. "But it seems this project is a little out of her depth. She managed to create a compact magic circle that her lackeys can carry around. It constantly scans the surrounding area for spatial anomalies. But the range is barely five miles."

I pointed to a spot on the map. "The devices are powered by the crystals we harvest from the portals. The scouts have to physically call us when they find a ping. That creates massive delays. The seals are finicky and can be damaged. If a scout gets attacked, the sensory seal could fall into enemy hands. We are using them for now, but there are major risks. The goal is to create a single net that spans the entire Karasu territory, but as of now is simply too power-hungry. Azula does not possess the foundational skills yet to optimize the power draw."

"Maybe in the future," I muttered, staring at the ceiling rafters. "Once we unlock more advanced grimoires from the system shop, we can find a workaround."

My next peerage member needed to be a magical researcher. Someone with a genius intellect for spellcraft. Azula was my Queen. She was a leader. I could not keep her chained to a laboratory desk trying to reverse-engineer magic when she needed to be out in the field leading my forces.

I leaned back into my chair and let out a long, heavy sigh. My body ached from the constant hunching over paperwork.

Samui stepped around the side of the desk. Her hand rested lightly on my shoulder.

"Well, master," she murmured, her voice dropping into a soft, melodic purr. "You seem very tired. I might not be able to help with the paperwork. But I can definitely help with the stress."

The purr in her voice sank into me like warm honey, wrapping around my senses.

Samui moved with a smirk on her lips, stepping around my chair and sinking to her knees at my side. Her fingers found the buttons of her jacket first, undoing them one by one until the fabric parted to reveal the thin shirt beneath. She slid beneath the desk without a word, settling between my spread thighs like she belonged there. The rustle of cloth and the soft brush of her hair against my knee sent a shiver racing up my spine.

Her hands worked at my trousers, tugging the fabric open and freeing my cock. The first touch of her tongue was slow, exploratory, tracing the underside from base to tip with wet, deliberate strokes. She took her time, letting the flat of her tongue press against the sensitive skin, savoring every ridge and vein as though memorizing the shape of me. A soft, satisfied hum vibrated through my length as she opened wider and took me deeper, her lips stretching around the head before sliding down inch by inch.

The wet sounds of her mouth filled the small space beneath the desk, obscene. Her hands rested on my thighs, fingers flexing against the muscle as she set a steady rhythm. Each bob of her head pulled me deeper into her mouth, her throat working around the head when she took me to the back. She held there, breathing carefully through her nose, before pulling back with a soft pop and diving in again with renewed hunger.

I groaned her name, hips straining against the urge to thrust up into that wet heat. The tension coiled tighter with every stroke of her tongue, every swallow that pulled me deeper. One of her hands slid lower, cradling my balls with gentle pressure that made my breath catch. She rolled them carefully in her palm while her mouth worked faster, the suction increasing until my vision blurred at the edges.

Just as the pressure built to an almost unbearable peak, she pulled back. Her lips glistened as she rose smoothly from beneath the desk, eyes dark with intent. Without ceremony she swept her arm across the surface, sending papers and ink bottles scattering to the floor. The sound of them hitting the wood barely registered before she turned, bending forward over the cleared space. Her uniform skirt rode up, revealing the firm, shapely curve of her ass barely contained by thin thong.

I stood, shoving my trousers down and stepping behind her. My hands gripped her hips as I guided myself to her entrance, finding her already slick and ready. One hard thrust buried me to the hilt, and she gasped, knuckles white against the desk edge. I set a punishing rhythm immediately, each slam of my hips driving her forward. The desk creaked beneath us, the sound mixing with the wet slap of skin meeting skin and her choked moans.

"Who do you belong too?" I managed between thrusts, voice rough.

"You, master," she breathed, pushing back to meet each stroke. "Don't stop. Please."

I fucked her harder, one hand sliding up her back to fist in her hair, pulling her head back as I pounded into her. Her pussy clenched around me with every thrust, muscles fluttering and gripping. The angle let me drive deeper, hitting the spot that made her cry out. Sweat beaded on her skin, her disheveled hair falling across her face as she moaned into the wood.

Her climax hit first. She convulsed around me, inner walls pulsing and squeezing as her whole body shook. The sensation dragged me over the edge with her. I buried myself deep and came hard, pulsing inside her as pleasure crashed through me in waves. For long moments we stayed locked together, breathing ragged, the scent of sex and sweat heavy in the air.

When I finally withdrew, she remained bent over the desk, catching her breath. A thin trickle of my release slid down her inner thigh. She straightened slowly, turning to face me with a satisfied, slightly dazed expression. 

"I hope that helped master," she said, voice still husky. "Though we've made quite a mess of your papers."

The scattered documents lay everywhere, some crumpled, others streaked with ink.

AN. don't own anything recognizable.