These Heroines Are So High Maintenance chapters 4-7 (Patreon)

Chapter 4

I took a deep breath like I was prepping for a trance, then walked back to the living room. The situation felt like negotiating with a tiny, adorable nuclear bomb. Elysia remained on the couch with arms crossed. Her expression combined Queen Elizabeth receiving underwhelming tea and a five-year-old denied ice cream. The paused video game cast a colorful glow across her face, adding to her charm in some unnamable way.

“Look,” I began from the opposite end of the couch, maintaining what I hoped was a safe distance. “We need to clear something up.”

“Indeed we do.” Elysia’s nose shot high in the air. “Your behavior was unacceptably rough. I am a delicate princess, not a sack of turnips to be tossed aside when inconvenient.”

I ran a hand through my hair. How had my life come to this—trying to have a serious conversation about accidental boners with an interdimensional elf princess in silky pajamas? “That’s... not what I want to talk about.”

“Oh?” One eyebrow arched.

“There’s something you should understand about...” I searched for words that wouldn’t make me sound like a complete creep. “About how you affect me. Physically.” 

I cringed at myself. That’s a failure.

Elysia uncrossed her arms. She cocked her head once to the left, then to the right, like one of those adorably confused golden retriever puppies on social media. After a final nose crinkle, her expression softened with curiosity. “Affect you?”

“Yes. You’re... well, you’re very attractive to me,” I admitted. Dear God, was I actually doing this? The amount of cringe was overwhelming, but I’d come this far and had to see it through.

Her imperious expression returned instantly. Royal hauteur activated at full power, and the sight of the superiority on her face made me smirk in spite of my own nerves. “Of course I am,” she declared as if stating water was moist. “I am very beautiful and dainty. This is an established fact throughout seven realms and three pocket dimensions.”

I shook my head. “That’s not my point. When you sit in my lap, or nuzzle against me, or wear next to nothing around me...” I gestured at her silky lavender pajamas. “It has a physical effect on me, and it’s going to create awkwardness eventually.”

Elysia tilted her head up to look down at me over her nose, which was hilarious given how short she was. Her blue eyes watched me intently as she sucked on her bottom lip before finally deciding on her words. “I don’t understand what you mean by ‘physical effect,’” she said, though her tone hinted she might be playing dumb.

“I need to be transparent about it,” I continued. This sucked. It felt like giving a mortifying PowerPoint presentation. “I have no control over how my body responds to... to proximity with you. It’s an automatic reaction, like sneezing when there’s dust or sweating when it’s hot.”

Elysia’s expression remained puzzled. She cocked her head to the side in an infuriatingly cute way, blinking innocently. She glanced quickly left and right like she was checking for eavesdroppers in my empty living room. Then she leaned forward and whispered, “Are you talking about being... horny?”

I almost choked. Hearing that word in her high-pitched, posh, accented voice jarred me. Humiliation mixed with relief that she actually understood what I was trying to explain.

“Yes.” My voice cracked embarrassingly. “That’s exactly it.”

To my surprise, Elysia rolled her eyes dramatically. “Well, I know that,” she said. “Obviously.”

“You... know?” I repeated, feeling pretty fucking stupid right about then.

“Of course I know. I’m counting on it.” She lowered her voice and leaned closer. “But this is the sort of thing that you don’t speak of! It’s best for a maiden to just play dumb and let these things happen, yes? That’s what all the forbidden romance scrolls say.”

I blinked several times, processing this complete reversal. I’d quite possibly just interacted with an alternate dimension. Again. “Wait. So you knew what you were doing this whole time?!”

“Was it not obvious?” She looked genuinely concerned about her performance. “I suppose my innocent act was persuasive. The royal acting tutor always praised my ability to portray naivety. I convinced the entire court I didn’t know where babies came from until I was ninety-four.” She sighed. “I was so young back then.”

I blinked a few times at the age reveal, but moved on quickly. “No, you were... convincing,” I assured her. My mind raced to catch up. “Are you saying that all of this—the sitting in my lap, pressing yourself against me, changing clothes in front of me—was deliberate? You were trying to... what, seduce me?”

Elysia huffed. “Well, obviously. You are a very, very sexually attractive man, and my fated mate. Of course I’m showing off my physique for you. Of course I’m plastering myself to you like tree sap.”

“Say what now?” The floor dropped out from under me. My stomach plummeted to my ankles. “Fated mate?”

Elysia nodded matter-of-factly. “The Hero’s Party is a band of three female adventurers. We are virginal maidens, destined to find the man who completes us.” The way she emphasized ‘completes’ made my heart pound. “I knew I would find you here in Earthrealm, though not so soon. When you revealed that you had access to the system, I knew it was you without a shadow of a doubt.”

That more or less explained how excited she was to learn I possessed the System. Plus, it explained a lot of other things too. Huh.

My pulse hammered in my fists. Everything had flipped upside down. All this time, she hadn’t been oblivious to the effect she was having on me—she’d been deliberately provoking exactly that reaction. I was almost weirdly impressed.

“So you’ve been actively trying to... to seduce me?” I struggled to believe it. “Since yesterday?”

Elysia’s regal demeanor suddenly cracked, and her pale cheeks flushed pink. She looked down at her hands in her lap. “It’s indecent and inconsiderate to make a princess with her maidenhead intact admit such a thing,” she murmured. Her voice sounded small, cutesy rather than regal.

She shyly pressed her fingertips together. The gesture looked adorable, but I tried not to be distracted. After a moment, she patted the seat beside her.

“I wish to resume the ruse at once,” she declared without meeting my eyes. “I cannot bear the shame of discussing such lewd possibilities aloud.”

I opened my mouth to protest but stopped before anything came out. I’d never agreed to be her soulmate or party member or whatever this was, but looking at her—the proud princess now fidgeting nervously with her pajama hem, her pointed ears pink at the tips, her lower lip caught between her teeth—I couldn’t say it. I’d sound like an asshole. And honestly, she was criminally cute, so it wwas hard to be upset about being the object of her affection, even with a bizarre interdimensional destiny I didn’t sign up for attached.

With a sigh of resignation, I moved to sit beside her. Immediately, Elysia repositioned herself sideways across my lap. Her legs stretched along the couch, her back against the armrest. She picked up the controller and unpaused the game, resuming as if our entire conversation hadn’t happened.

After hesitating, I wrapped an arm loosely around her waist to keep her steady. She leaned against my chest and giggled softly.

“This pleases me,” she whispered. Her attention stayed fixed on the screen as her character leapt across platforms. “My mother, the queen, would faint dead away if she could see me now, sitting in the lap of a male like some common tavern wench.”

“Is that something tavern wenches typically do in your world?” I asked, unable to resist teasing her.

Elysia shrugged. The movement caused her to shift in a way both innocuous and torturous. “I wouldn’t know. Princesses aren’t allowed in taverns. I’ve only read about such scandalous behavior in forbidden romance scrolls that I most certainly did not hide under my phoenix feather mattress between Proper Royal Etiquette and One Thousand Ways to Brew Tea.”

I chuckled. The vibration made Elysia wiggle again as she adjusted her position. I sucked in a breath, wondering if she was doing this on purpose. Given what I’d just learned, I figured she was. The cozy, innocent princess act was exactly that: an act.

“So,” I said, trying to distract myself from her warmth against me, “this whole fated mate thing. How does that work exactly?”

“Oh no,” Elysia replied. Her attention never left the game. “We’ve resumed the ruse, remember? I’m just an innocent elven princess who happens to enjoy sitting in your lap for completely non-romantic reasons. Perhaps it improves my Super Plumber Cousin prowess. Perhaps it’s a sacred elven tradition. Who can say for certain?”

“Right,” I said dryly. “Silly me. And here I thought it might have something to do with you calling me your ‘fated mate’ about two minutes ago.”

“I said no such thing,” she declared primly. “You must have misheard. Elven maidens would never speak so boldly about matters of the heart and loins.”

“Uh-huh.”

We sat in comfortable silence for a while. The only sounds came from the game and Elysia’s occasional triumphant exclamations or frustrated curses in what I assumed was elven. It felt strangely domestic, sitting with her nestled against me, her small body fitting perfectly in my lap, her blonde hair tickling my chin whenever she moved her head.

“You’re learning quickly,” I commented as she successfully navigated a particularly tricky section with what looked like cannonballs on chains trying to take a bite out of her.

“I excel at all things I attempt,” Elysia replied haughtily as her noble pride surfaced once again. Then she immediately fell into a pit, losing her last life. “CURSE YOUR LINEAGE TO THE SEVENTH GENERATION, FOUL GAME!” she shouted at the top of her lungs.

I laughed. This earned me an elbow in the ribs sharp enough to qualify as a lethal weapon.

“It’s not funny,” she pouted. “This game is obviously rigged against overly refined elven reflexes. Our reaction time is too perfect for your primitive human technology to process.”

“Sure it is,” I agreed, still chuckling. “Certainly nothing to do with you trying to jump onto platforms that don’t exist.”

Elysia twisted in my lap to face me. Her expression turned indignant. “Are you mocking your princess?”

“I wouldn’t dream of it.” I gave an exaggerated head bow. “I value my life too much. But, I mean, you’re not my princess, per se.”

She narrowed her gaze as she smirked. “On the contrary, I most certainly am yours.” The playful glint in her eyes tempted me to do something about the bratty look on her face. “And you are a terrible liar, Josh Becker. You were mocking me.”

“Because you’re terrible at this game,” I countered.

Elysia gasped in pretend outrage. Her hand flew to her chest. “How dare you! I’ll have you know I’ve made it to the third level, which is undoubtedly an impressive feat for a novice.”

“Undoubtedly,” I agreed solemnly. “Truly your gaming prowess will be sung about for generations.”

She glared at me for a moment before a mischievous smile spread across her face. Without warning, she shifted in my lap, turning to face the TV properly and scooting back between my legs, her back mashing against my chest.

“Perhaps I need a more competent teacher,” she suggested. Her voice sounded innocent but her intentions clearly weren’t.

My hands automatically went to her shoulders to steady her. Her body felt warm against mine, and her hair smelled sweet, like she’d just bathed, but I didn’t think she figured the shower out yet.

“I thought we were maintaining the ruse,” I said. My voice wavered as I tried to keep up.

“Oh, we are,” Elysia assured me in a tone that sounded suspiciously saccharine. “This is merely a more effective learning posture. I can see the screen better this way, and you can guide my hands on the controller.”

“Is that so?” I asked, arching a brow skeptically.

“Absolutely.” She nodded and reached for my hands, pulling them around her to wrap my arms around her waist. “It’s a traditional elven teaching method. Completely non-romantic in nature.”

“Of course it is,” I said, not believing a word of it but not particularly motivated to argue. Having her nestled against me felt comfortable in a way I hadn’t experienced in a long time—maybe ever.

I knew I should probably set her aside, establish boundaries, remind her of our conversation about the effect she had on Josh II. But the way she leaned back against me, relaxed and trusting, made it impossible to push her away.

Besides, we’d already acknowledged the attraction between us. And if I was supposedly her “fated mate” or whatever, maybe this was just how things were meant to unfold.

“Fine,” I conceded with a grunt. “But the controller’s over there.” I nodded toward where she’d dropped it on the cushion beside us.

“Oh, is it?” Elysia asked with exaggerated surprise. “How careless of me. I shall retrieve it immediately.”

To be clear, she made absolutely no move to do so. Instead, she settled more comfortably against me. Her head rested against my shoulder. I could feel her heartbeat through her back, slightly faster than normal, and wondered if she was as affected by our closeness as I was.

“We should probably get back to the game,” I suggested. My arms remained firmly around her waist, all talk, no action.

“Mmm, definitely. In a moment,” she murmured. “I’m quite comfortable. Besides, heroes need rest between quests.”

I smirked down at the back of her head, though she couldn’t see it. “What happened to the innocent princess act?”

Elysia’s laugh sounded soft and warm. “Even a princess gets tired of pretending.”

She turned her head slightly. Her cheek rested against my collarbone, her breath warm against my neck. I closed my eyes, enjoying the closeness and the simple pleasure of holding someone who wanted to be held by me.

It was strange how quickly I’d adjusted to her presence. Just two days ago, I’d been a solitary lottery winner hiding from the world, hunting monsters in my cornfield and wondering if I’d made the right choice moving to the middle of nowhere. Now I sat on my couch with an elven princess in my arms, destined to be her “champion” in some epic battle twenty years in the future—against a guy named Black Lazarus, no less.

Not sure why he had to be black.

Somehow, though, it felt right. Being with her—not the black bad guy thing. Being with Elysia, holding her—it was like finding a puzzle piece I didn’t know I was missing.

“Josh?” Elysia’s voice sounded small, lacking its standard imperious tone, almost vulnerable.

“Hmm?”

“I’m glad the portal brought me to you,” she said softly. “Even if it was too early.”

I tightened my arms around her, pulling her closer. “Yeah,” I agreed. “Me too.”

We stayed like that for a while, neither speaking, neither feeling the need to. Outside, the sun was setting. Orange and pink rays leaped through the window. I could see the cornfield where I’d fought the troll just the night before, where Elysia had first appeared in my life.

Whatever this strange new reality was, I was starting to think I could get used to it.

Chapter 5

The evening was creeping in like a teenager past curfew. Elysia was still tucked in my lap, her tiny hands working the controller with an intense focus usually reserved for last minute tax filing.

“Hey,” I said, watching her little plumber guy hop across the screen, “there’s probably going to be another portal tonight. They’ve been pretty regular lately.”

Her character promptly walked straight off a cliff. She chucked the controller aside with a dramatic huff that rattled the windows.

“Must we think about such tedious things right now?” she complained, twisting around to face me. The cute look in her eyes was absolutely deadly. “I was having such a lovely time vanquishing these creatures.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Well, we can’t exactly ignore it. If I don’t deal with whatever comes through, it’ll either wander off the lot looking for a midnight snack or tear up my property. My insurance doesn’t cover monsters. And who knows where it’d go after that.”

She slid off my lap with bratty reluctance, then dropped to her knees in front of me. Her small hands grabbed mine, and she deployed what I was starting to recognize as her “ultimate weapon”—the dreaded and exceedingly frequently utilized puppy-dog eyes.

“Please, Josh Becker, my handsome, strapping champion,” she pleaded, her lower lip achieving Olympic-level poutiness. “Couldn’t you handle the dreadful beast yourself? Just this once? I would be ever so grateful.”

“You’re literally a warrior princess,” I reminded her, trying not to focus on how she looked kneeling there in skimpy pajamas. “Aren’t you supposed to be some legendary hero? Spellblade of the Hero’s Party?”

She responded with a series of whining noises that would’ve made a spoiled toddler nod in approval.

“Fighting is exhausting!” she moaned, shaking her head so vigorously that her huge braid whipped left and right. “I’m delicate! Refined! These hands were made for holding scepters, not swinging swords!”

I rolled my eyes. “Of all the interdimensional warrior princesses in all the worlds, I get the one with the work ethic of a retired housecat.”

Her pout intensified even more. Then, with a squeaky grunt, she launched herself back into my lap, wrapping her arms around my neck and pressing her forehead against mine as she stared directly in my eyes, like she was afraid I was trying to avoid the bratty face she was making.

“I’m not lazy,” she insisted, nuzzling against my cheek. “I’m extraordinarily powerful. Devastatingly mighty. I simply happen to have a stamina issue.”

“Happens to a lot of guys, too. What’s that supposed to mean for you, though?” I asked as my arms automatically circled her waist.

She sat up straight, suddenly looking smug. “Allow me to demonstrate the glory of my attributes!”

With a very superfluous flourish, she conjured a floating window—like my status screen, but with more pink, way fancier fonts, and very sparkly borders to her HUD.

PLAYER: Elysia Silverleaf

LEVEL: 35

CLASS: Spellblade

ATTRIBUTES: 

• Strength: 14 

• Dexterity: 25

• Constitution: 4

• Intelligence: 10

• Wisdom: 18

• Charisma: 20

My jaw dropped. “Your Constitution is FOUR? What the—How do you even function? That’s like having the cardio capacity of a chain-smoking sloth!”

“I prefer to think of myself as uniquely specialized,” she sniffed. She’d put on a smug, closed-eye smile like she was proud, but the disastrously pink cheeks told another tale entirely. “I’m designed for devastating single strikes, not prolonged engagements. Quality over quantity, as they say.”

“But you’re supposed to be some legendary hero,” I said as I continued trying to process her absurd stats. “How do you handle long fights with endurance that low?”

“That’s what party members are for, silly,” she explained with an airy wave. “They handle all the tedious parts—the running, the dodging, the sweating—while I wait for the perfect moment to deliver an elegant finishing blow.” She batted her eyelashes. “I would be ever so grateful if a big strong champion who can do all the hard work while I provide moral support from a safe distance were to step up and do his part.”

I sighed. “At least come with me and watch. If things get hairy, you can jump in with one of those devastating strikes you’re talking about.”

Her nose wrinkled like she’d just sucked a rotten lemon. “I suppose I must,” she conceded with a scrunched up nose. “But if I have to exert even the tiniest amount of effort, you’ll owe me the most thorough pampering session in the history of both our worlds.”

“Define ‘pampering,’” I said cautiously.

“Oh, the usual,” she said, her voice shifting into a tone that was equal parts demanding and sickeningly sweet. “Full body massages, a long hot bath, endless cuddles, hair brushing for no less than one hour, foot rubs, back scratches, and you’ll have to sing me lullabies until I fall asleep.”

“I don’t sing,” I said flatly.

“You do now,” she declared. “Also, breakfast in bed tomorrow. Those pancake things, drowning in that heavenly amber nectar.”

I groaned but couldn’t maintain any real irritation in the face of her enthusiasm. “Fine. But you have to actually try to help if things go sideways.”

“Marvelous!” She clapped her hands like I’d just agreed to buy her a pony. “Now, assist me with my armor, my devoted servant!”

Twenty minutes later, I was fully geared up while Elysia was still struggling with her platemail bikini, each piece apparently weighing as much as a small car based on her theatrical groaning.

“It’s so heaaavy,” she whined, flopping dramatically onto the bed. “How can I possibly be expected to dress myself in these conditions?”

“You managed just fine when you first arrived,” I pointed out.

“That was before the dimensional journey sapped my legendary strength,” she countered. “I’m practically an invalid now. Barely able to lift my own arms.”

With a sigh that could’ve moved a windmill, I knelt to help her with her armor. As I fastened her boots, I noticed her legs were actually pretty toned for someone claiming to have the endurance of wet tissue paper.

“There,” I said once the last piece clicked into place. “Ready for battle.”

She immediately held her arms out like a toddler demanding to be carried. “You can’t possibly expect me to walk all the way to the battlefield.”

“It’s a quarter mile, Elysia. You can see it from here.”

Her arms remained outstretched, unwavering as stone. Knowing resistance was futile, I scooped her up in what was becoming a very familiar bridal carry.

“You’re absolutely spoiled,” I informed her as we headed out.

“I prefer ‘deservedly cherished,’’” she corrected, snuggling against my chest like she belonged there.

The walk to our monster-greeting spot was going to become routine eventually. This errand was a bit like fetching the mail, only the mail was usually huge and wanted to kill you. The weather tonight was nice at least, with a big, full moon on its third and final day of the month.

“Should be right about here,” I said, setting her down near where yesterday’s troll had made its dramatic exit.

She immediately claimed a fallen log on the edge of the field like it was a throne. “I shall observe from this strategic position,” she announced, arranging herself regally. “Providing tactical insights and moral support from a safe distance.”

“How noble of you,” I deadpanned as I drew my sword.

Right on cue, the air started doing that unsettling wavy thing that meant something unpleasant was about to make a grand entrance. The distortion widened, and purple energy crackled around its edges as it stretched into a proper portal much like the ones I’d seen before. But…

“That’s... considerably larger than usual,” I noted as my danger sense tingled in the form of goosebumps on my nape.

“Oh my,” Elysia said, sounding half-intrigued. “Something substantial approaches. I shall enjoy the show!”

The ground began to tremble, but heavy footfalls reverberated through the earth long before anything was visible. Whatever was coming had serious mass.

“Here comes trouble,” I muttered, adjusting my grip.

First came a hoof the size of a coffee table, followed by a thick, matted leg. The creature that emerged was a new one to me, and I was suddenly starting to feel nostalgic for trolls and their lovely regeneration.

Standing ten feet tall and built like a shack, the thing was part bull, part gorilla, part other thing that I had obviously never encountered before. It had matted fur covering rippling muscles, backward-bending legs, and horns that looked like they could make mincemeat out of me, even considering the armor. Smaller spikes jutted from its shoulders and spine, which didn’t do much to make the thing seem more approachable.

“Holy mother of—” I breathed, suddenly feeling like I’d brought a butter knife to a gunfight.

“A Highland Behemoth!” Elysia called out, sounding inconsiderately excited. “Quite rare! Their horns fetch a king’s ransom in alchemical circles! The royal apothecary once offered me an entire wing of his tower for just one!”

“Noted,” I grunted.

The behemoth announced its presence with a roar that I felt in my bones, then lowered its head and charged at me like a train—slow at first, but rapidly gaining speed. Unlike a train, though, it was much better at adjusting its trajectory as I made moves to get out of its way.

My enhanced reflexes barely got me to safety after several attempts to weave and get it off my path. The beast thundered past. Its momentum carried it deep into the dead cornfield, leaving a trench in its wake.

“The hamstrings!” Elysia shouted from her safe perch. “Its torso is basically armored, but the leg tendons are vulnerable!”

“See, that’s useful! Good to know!” I called back, circling to keep the massive barn I’d been meaning to repair between us. The structure was huge, but it was little more than a rundown relic from when this was a working farm.

The behemoth charged again, and this time I was ready. As it passed, I swung with everything I had at the back of its leg. My blade bit deep, drawing a spray of black blood that thankfully was more pleasant than troll blood, if only by comparison. The creature howled but stayed upright, spinning with agility it really shouldn’t have to smack me across the field.

I hit the ground like a stone, bouncing twice before skidding to a stop.

“Now that’s some fucking health reduction,” I coughed, spitting dirt. “This is gonna be a shitty night.”

“You’re doing splendidly!” Elysia cheered from somewhere off to the side. “You are very dashing! Victory shall be yours!”

“Shut up!” I shouted back, rolling away from another charge.

This time I wasn’t quite fast enough. One massive horn caught the edge of my armor, tearing through metal and scraping ribs. Another three percent gone. At this rate, I’d be monster chow before Elysia got off her perky ass to help.

Then I spotted the old dairy barn and had what alcoholics call a moment of clarity. The structure, old as it was, was built like a fortress, with massive wooden beams that had weathered decades of Wisconsin winters.

“Hey, ugly!” I shouted, backing toward the barn’s entrance. “Come and get me!”

Sure enough, the behemoth pawed the ground and gathered itself for another charge. I positioned myself in the wide doorway, waited for the perfect moment, then dove sideways at the last second.

The beast couldn’t stop. It slammed into the reinforced door frame with a loud, reverberating crash. The entire barn shuddered, and I heard the crack of massive timbers giving way. The behemoth’s horns had punched straight through, embedding deep in the ancient support beams. Perfect.

While it thrashed and roared, trying to pull free, I scrambled onto a hay bale, then leaped onto its back. My sword found the gap between its shoulder blades, sinking deep. The creature bucked like a raging bronco in the springtime of its youth, but with its head trapped in the barn’s frame, it couldn’t shake me loose.

I drew my hunting knife and went to work on its skull, searching for weak spots. The first four stabs just scraped off armored plates, but the fifth found purchase. The blade slipped between natural armor segments, and suddenly the behemoth’s legs went wobbly.

It dropped to its knees with a sound like thunder, still trapped in the barn doorway. I kept stabbing until it stopped twitching, then slid off and retrieved my sword with a wet sound I’d be hearing more of in my nightmares for sure.

For good measure, I circled around and opened its throat, turning the ground into a Jackson Pollock painting in shades of black.

“Magnificent!” Elysia cheered, practically dancing over to me. “Using this hideous old structure was inspired!”

“Thanks,” I panted, leaning on my sword and looking at the partially collapsed barn entrance. “I’ve been meaning to renovate anyway.”

The familiar blue window materialized:

VICTORY!

XP Gained! Level Up! Level 16 achieved.

You have one new skill point and one new attribute point. Would you like to allocate them now? YES / NO

“Yes,” I muttered under my breath.

ALLOCATE YOUR SKILL POINT:

Lightning Reflexes : (Your attempts to dodge will be smoother, more graceful, and more likely to succeed in the heat of battle)

Journeyman Fishing I : (Enables the option to catch magical fish that, once eaten, provide temporary stat boosts)

ALLOCATE YOUR ATTRIBUTE POINT

“Lightning Reflexes,” I said immediately. After tonight’s close calls, dodging seemed smart. “And Constitution.”

Warmth rippled quickly through me as the System worked its magic. My breathing normalized almost instantly.

Elysia circled the corpse like an art critic, tapping her chin appraisingly before lifting her gaze to meet mine with a smug, bratty little smirk. “You see? This is precisely why you’re my destined champion—you can handle all the messy combat while I provide rigorous strategic guidance from afar. A match made in the stars, indeed!”

“Lucky me,” I said, sheathing my sword. “I’ll just keep risking life and limb while you critique my technique.”

“Exactly!” she agreed, either missing the sarcasm or embracing it. Then, without missing a beat, she raised her arms expectantly. “Now carry me home, brave warrior. I’m utterly exhausted from all this intense observation. Up! Up!”

I scooped her up and once again begrudgingly enjoyed how perfectly she fit in my arms. It was becoming concerningly natural.

“What about those valuable horns?” I asked.

“They’ll keep until morning,” she said, waving her elegant hand dismissively. “Behemoths are wonderfully slow to decompose. Very considerate of them, really.” She punctuated that statement with a giggle. She clearly had way too much fun watching me do all the work.

Halfway home, though, I noticed she’d gone suspiciously quiet. Her breathing had slowed, and her head nestled against my shoulder in a tell-tale way. I looked down at her, smirking despite myself. In the moonlight, she looked almost ethereally beautiful. I couldn’t decide if I was lucky to have her, or kind of cursed to be burdened with her.

Who was I kidding? Most men would kill to be in my shoes.

With that thought in my head, I carried her up to the guest room and began the now-familiar process of removing her armor. Each piece came off a bit more easily than it had the night before, and soon she was back in her pajamas. I tucked her in and suppressed an urge to kiss her forehead, feeling a bit creepy for having the impulse—but come on.

Though, as I turned to leave, her voice rang out to stop me.

“I see. So you’re abandoning me in this lonely chamber at this early hour?”

I turned back. One eye was open, watching me with a look that straddled the line between performative disgust and mischievous scheming. I didn’t think such a specific look could exist, but there it was, plain as day on  her perfect face.

“I thought you were asleep,” I said in my defense.

“That was my design, yes,” she replied primly. “I wanted to see how you’d treat me in such a delicate position. Would you be gentle and sweet, or would you give into your basest urges and attempt to sample my virginal flesh?” 

I shrugged. “The thought had occurred to me, but I did the first thing you mentioned.”

Then she frowned, looking around. “Oh. This is not your room. Meaning, I suppose, you intend to leave me here to sleep on my own and not even return later.”

I scratched the back of my head. “I mean, that’s what we did last night,” I muttered.

She rolled onto her back, staring at the ceiling with theatrical melancholy. “How disappointing. I suppose I shall suffer here alone, cold and abandoned, fantasizing about what might have been.”

“Did you... want to share my bed?” I asked, hesitating by the door.

She flopped onto her stomach with a huff. “Not if you’re going to be so crass as to ask directly,” she mumbled into the pillow. “Where’s the spontaneity? You were supposed to carry me there, spurred on by your own urges. Asking politely is so… lame.”

“I thought asking for consent was the gentlemanly thing to do.”

Silence. Pure silence, save for her throwing the covers over her head. I shrugged and headed for the door. There was always tomorrow. I wasn’t about to try to correct the course now.

“Wait!” she squawked, sitting bolt upright. “You were actually going to leave? Just like that? Without even attempting to persuade me?”

“You literally just gave me the cold shoulder. What was I supposed to do, throw you over my shoulder like a caveman?”

Instead of answering, she furrowed her brow, held out her arms, and made grabbing motions.

“You are fucking impossible,” I muttered, but I was already walking back to scoop her up.

“Anything of value takes some effort to maintain,” she cooed as I carried her to my room. “I am of extreme value, therefore there is a bit of a learning curve, perhaps. But you’re doing well so far, all things considered.”

“If you say so,” I grumbled, but it was hard to be mad at her since, in the end, she was about as bad at playing hard-to-get and tough-to-please as I was at reading her mind in the first place.

My bedroom was dominated by my California king-sized bed, which was a luxury I allowed myself since, you know, I had hundreds of millions of dollars in the bank. I set the elfmaid down and started removing my own armor, setting it aside neatly to deal with later. When I peeled off my sweat-soaked shirt, I caught her watching me in the mirror before she quickly pretended to notice something interesting about the ceiling fan.

Down to my boxers, I turned to face her. “I should shower first,” I muttered. “I’m sweaty. And covered with monster stuff.” 

The elven beauty reached lazily in my direction and snapped her fingers, then wiggled them. A second or two later, a thin, pale stream of light emanated from them in my general direction. It took me a moment to realize that she just used some elven purification magic on me or something, because the blood, at least, was gone—but not necessarily the rest of the stink.

“I still need to clean up,” I noted. “But that’s a neat trick.”

She shook her head and patted the mattress beside her. Wincing, I crawled into bed. She immediately attached herself to me like a sexy little leech.

“You smell like heroism,” she murmured against my chest. “And exertion. And slightly still like behemoth innards, but I can let that one go.”

“That’s just a fancy way of saying I reek.”

She shook her head. “It’s intoxicating. Very masculine. Makes me feel safe.” Then she pulled back and fired up her frequently weaponized eyelashes. “Though perhaps a bath wouldn’t be such a bad idea for me. I have used magic to keep myself fresh since I arrived, but a bath would be very relaxing.”

“You didn’t earn it. You sat on a log,” I protested. “That hardly warrants a full bathing ritual.”

“The chilly night air is harsh on my skin,” she countered smoothly. “Besides, you promised to pamper me if I exerted myself, and I’ll have you know that maintaining proper posture while spectating and cheering for you was very stressful.”

I smirked. “Figure the tub out for yourself.”

Her resulting pout could’ve launched a thousand ships. A moment later I found myself trudging to the bathroom, defeated by a five-foot-nothing-on-a-good-day princess with the fortitude of a soap bubble.

I filled the tub with hot water, adding bubble bath mix to it too. Yes, I had bubble bath mix. Shut up. 

When I returned, Elysia was sitting up in bed, her cheeks strangely pink.

“I know I didn’t truly earn such treatment,” she admitted, suddenly shy. “But would you... help me bathe? My chambermaids used to assist me, you see, and I find I rather miss the companionship.”

Every sensible part of my brain started flashing warning signals, but they were all drowned out by Josh 2: The Dickening making executive decisions on my behalf.

“Sure,” I heard myself say a bit hoarsely. “If that’s what you want.”

Her face lit up like Christmas and her birthday had both arrived at once. In the bathroom, steam curled around us as she slowly pulled her pajama top over her head, revealing the red lingerie we’d bought earlier. My mouth went Sahara-dry as she slipped out of her shorts, then reached behind to unhook her bra with grace.

She hesitated only a heartbeat before sliding off her panties. Standing before me, she looked so perfect, so indescribably beautiful that I felt a little guilty for witnessing her nudity at all. She was petite but imposingly busty, with pale skin that shone from her sweat under the yellow bathroom lights. Her taut, athletic figure, which somehow seemed waxed to perfection from the chin down, made me so immediately turned on that I worried I might tear through the fabric of my boxers.

“What a savage beast you are after all. You’re staring so intensely,” she noted softly, but I didn’t miss the pleased tone of her voice.

“Can you blame me?” I managed, but my vocabulary beyond that was more or less reduced to caveman grunts.

She shook her head and held out her hand. “Help me in, Sir Josh? My champion?”

I took her hand and steadied her as she stepped into the tub. She sighed blissfully as she sank into the hot water, throwing back her head and stretching with the one hand that wasn’t still clinging to mine.

“Strange. You’re still dressed,” she pointed out, arching one perfect golden eyebrow.

I shed my boxers with significantly less grace than she’d shown and climbed in opposite her. The tub was spacious but not meant for two—our legs tangled naturally underwater, skin sliding against skin in ways that made coherent thought challenging. To put it bluntly, my cock was inches away from her pussy, and we were both very aware of the fact.

After several moments of silence, she reached for the shampoo. “I assume this container holds a hair-washing ointment of some sort. Would you wash my hair?”

I took the bottle and she turned, settling between my legs with natural ease. The press of her against me sent my brain into overdrive, especially when I felt my erection press into her back, going vertical to compensate for how tightly she’d pushed back into me.

I poured water over her golden hair, then worked shampoo through it, massaging her scalp the way I used to massage my stepmom’s corgi on bath day. Elysia made small sounds of contentment that shot straight through me like jolts of electricity. When my fingers accidentally brushed the tip of one pointed ear, she gasped, and her entire body went rigid.

“I’m sorry,” I said quickly. “Did that hurt?”

“No,” she breathed in a strained, airy voice. “Elven ears are... quite sensitive. Especially the tips. It’s considered rather intimate to touch them.”

I filed that very useful information away and finished rinsing her hair, deliberately avoiding her ears at first. Then, curiosity getting the better of me since she pointedly didn’t tell me not to, I traced the shell of one ear with deliberate lightness.

She gasped again, arching back against me. “Josh...” Her hand reached back, stopping at my thigh, but squeezing like she was trying to fight off the urge to reach for something else.

“Too much?” I asked, whispering in the same ear I just teased.

She shook her head, melting back against my chest. “It’s just a powerful feeling. Do as you please, but be gentle with me. I’m very… inexperienced.”

Encouraged by those words, I continued my exploration while my other hand found her waist. She felt perfect against me, like she was meant to be in my arms all along. My hand drifted up to cup one impressive breast—perfectly shaped, tipped with a pale, barely pink nipple that hardened immediately under my palm.

“Is this okay?” I murmured against her ear.

“More than okay,” she gasped, pressing into my touch. “Mmm… my champion…”

I played with her breasts, going between them every now and then, while my other hand traced increasingly bold patterns on her ears. She writhed against me, her breathing becoming ragged as little, disastrously lewd-sounding whimpers escaped her throat.

“Nyuh—Josh,” she moaned, her hips moving restlessly. “There’s this pressure building inside me. Like a fire in my core that your touch inspires but cannot quench if your hands remain where they are. Do you… know what I’m saying?”

Understanding her need, I let my hand drift lower, finding her already swollen, like her pussy had been impatiently waiting for me. The first touch of my fingers made her cry out, her body jerking like she’d been shocked.

“Still okay?” I asked, needing to be sure.

“Please,” she begged as she discarded all pretense of royal dignity. “Please, don’t stop. Whatever you do, stopping is hereby forbidden!”

I circled her sensitive bud with deliberate pressure while my other hand alternated between her breasts and those surprisingly sensitive ears. She moved against my hand with increasing desperation, letting soft moans fill the steamy air.

“Josh—ahhh fffff—” she gasped, her voice climbing in pitch. “Something’s happening. I feel like I’m going to—”

Her body went bow-string taut, knees locking, feet pushing her ass off the bottom of the tub and thrusting the top of her head against my neck. She shuddered violently as pleasure overtook her, crying out. The feral sound echoed off the bathroom walls as she came apart in my arms. I held her through it, drawing out every tremor until she collapsed against me, boneless and panting.

“By all the trees in Elfhaven,” she whispered with wonder in her voice. “I had no idea physical pleasure could reach such heights.”

I pressed a kiss to her temple, stupidly proud of myself. “Happy to be of service, Your Highness.”

She turned to face me. Her eyes were shining with something between gratitude and determination. “Your turn,” she declared. “I wish to practice this art of pleasure-giving.”

Seeing as how I was about as hard as a diamond, she got no complaint from me. Still, she insisted on washing my hair first, and I found that her small hands were surprisingly strong when she massaged my scalp. 

Then she worked her way down my body with careful attention, as if memorizing every plane and angle. When she finally reached my straining erection, she wrapped her hand around it with a hungry, reverent look in her piercing blue eyes.

“It’s so beautiful,” she murmured, giving an experimental stroke. “And warm. And much larger than I anticipated. I have anatomical concerns, but if you’re my fated mate, then we are destined to navigate these matters together.”

I choked on a laugh that turned into a groan as she found a rhythm. “Good?” she asked, her eyes wide with earnest curiosity.

“Very good,” I managed through gritted teeth.

She leaned in, pressing her cheek against my chest as she gazed down at her handiwork, her breath hot against my skin. “Excellent. I want to make you feel as wonderful as you made me feel. Tell me if I do something you don’t like, and I will change immediately.”

Her hand worked steadily, varying pressure and speed as she studied my reactions with scholarly focus. I felt the familiar pressure building. Given just how turned I’d been for a while now, I was already approaching the point of no return.

“Elysia,” I warned, my voice strained.

“Yes,” she encouraged, kissing my chest, her own voice husky. “Let go for me, Josh. Give your essence to me, I beseech you.”

Those weirdly formal words pushed me over the edge. I came with a groan that made the thin walls shake. My body shuddered on and on as she stroked me through it with amazing skill for a beginner.

Afterward, we dried off in silence. Wrapped in towels, she suddenly threw her arms around me in a fierce hug.

“Thank you,” she said softly against my chest. “For the battle, for the bath, for taking care of me, for... everything you do and everything you are.”

I held her close, breathing in her scent. “You’re welcome.”

When she pulled back, her expression had turned serious. “I think I should return to the guest chamber after all,” she said with weary regret in her voice. “If I share your bed tonight, I fear I might surrender more than I’m prepared to lose.”

“I can control myself,” I told her, touching her cheek and smiling. “I won’t do anything, I promise.”

Then began the fiercest blush I’d ever seen in all my days as she quickly averted her gaze. “As it so happens, I’m not so concerned about… what you’ll do. If you catch my meaning.”

I nodded, respecting her boundaries even as every cell in my body protested. “Sounds good, Princess.”

She rose on tiptoes to kiss my cheek, her lips lingering. But after a moment, we both realized we weren’t satisfied with just that. Our arms entombed one another, and her lips found mine. I had to hunch down as she stood on tiptoes, standing on my feet no less, but we made it work and shared a first, incredible kiss in the steamy bathroom.

Afterwards, she took a moment to catch her breath, then smiled up at me sweetly. “Goodnight, my valiant champion. Dream of glorious battles and future victories.”

She padded out wrapped in her towel, leaving me standing there in a daze.

Chapter 6

Around nine AM the next day, sunlight leaked through the blinds to catch me in the act of flipping french toast. The kitchen smelled like cinnamon and vanilla had gotten into a fight with bacon and somehow everyone won. I’d already whipped up a café au lait exactly how Elysia liked it—coffee cut with hot milk, some sugar, and a drizzle of honey.

My brain kept rewinding to last night’s bath-time episode. I felt like I’d won the lottery—again. Elysia was basically a supermodel who’d wandered out of a fantasy novel and decided I was her destiny-daddy. The other part of me wondered if I was speedrunning myself into disaster.

“Two days,” I muttered, sliding the last piece of french toast onto a plate. “I’ve known her for two days and I’m already...”

But I didn’t know how to finish that sentence. Already what? Falling for her? Acting like her personal butler with benefits? Both seemed equally ridiculous and equally true.

I wasn’t naive enough to think this was normal. But I also couldn’t pretend the way she’d gotten under my skin wasn’t real. Her ridiculous demands, her moments of unexpected vulnerability, even her ability to masterfully pout in situations where pouting was far from necessary—it all just worked on me somehow.

“Roll with it, Becker,” I told myself, loading up the breakfast tray. “Not like the universe is giving you many options not to.”

I balanced the tray up the stairs to the guest room. The door was cracked open, so I nudged it wider with my foot.

“Breakfast is—” The words died in my throat like they’d been brutally shot to death.

Elysia was sprawled across the bed completely naked, last night’s towel on the floor in no position to cover anything. She stretched when she saw me, arms reaching above her head in a move that pushed her breasts skyward. Her pale nipples went from zero to attention instantly—at first sight of little ol’ me.

Then—because apparently my blood pressure wasn’t high enough—she spread her legs wide and raised her knees, giving me the kind of view that would make a gynecologist offer a hearty thumbs up. I had to rebalance the tray in my hands as my eyes locked onto the logical place for them to go. All this for the pretense of a morning stretch.

My jaw hung open stupidly as I took it all in, unable to muster any words. Thankfully, she wasn’t so tongue-tied.

“Good morning, Sir Josh,” she purred, making zero effort to cover anything.

“M-morning,” I croaked.

She arched a perfect eyebrow and nodded at what I carried in. “Is that for me?” 

“Yeah,” I managed. “French toast, bacon, eggs, café au lait.”

She made a happy sound and finally—mercifully—sat up, patting the bed beside her. “Bring it here, please.”

I approached like the bed was a bomb that needed defusing. The moment I set the tray down, she yanked me down and kissed me like she was attempting to steal my soul through my mouth.

Well, okay then, I thought dizzily as her tongue had its fucking way with mine. Not that I was complaining. When we broke apart, my brain rebooted enough to notice something. “Your breath doesn’t stink,” I blurted, immediately wanting to punch myself.

She laughed, making her breasts do wonderful things. “Basic elven magic, not even a System blessing. No morning breath, no body odor. Instant purification.”

“Must be nice,” I said weakly. I wondered if she could use her cleansing magic on me, but I liked my showers, so I didn’t bother to ask for the moment.

“Enough talking,” she declared, climbing into my lap completely nude. Her ass pressed against my rapidly awakening cock as she wound her arms around my neck for Tonsil War Two.

My hands found her waist automatically, thumbs brushing the undersides of her breasts. “Mmmm…” She moaned into my mouth, squirming in ways that would soon have me acting unwise if this kept up.

Some fragment of responsibility surfaced in my sex-addled brain. “Food’s getting cold,” I managed between kisses. After her mentioning how little she trusted her self-control before we went to bed last night, I was getting a front row view of just how fair an assessment that seemed to be.

She pouted but nodded. “I suppose sustenance is required for the day’s activities.” She adjusted in my lap, grabbing the tray. “Brush my hair while I eat? It’s all tangled from sleep.”

The request caught me off guard—but the idea of brushing her hair while she sat naked in my lap eating breakfast fired neurons in my brain I didn’t know existed.

“Sure,” I heard myself say. “Let me grab a brush.”

I lifted her nearly weightless body off my lap and retrieved a brush from the bathroom. When I returned, she’d positioned herself with the tray across her lap, scooting forward to make room behind her.

I settled against the headboard, and she nestled between my legs, her bare ass pressing against my denim-covered predicament. As I started working the brush through her golden locks, she took her first bite of french toast.

“Mmmmmm,” she moaned with a sound belonging in a very different context. “Oh gods, Josh... this is... unnnngh... divine!”

I almost choked on my freaking tongue. “Glad you like it,” I managed.

Each bite produced increasingly pornographic sounds. The bacon earned a high-pitched “Ahhhh!” that dissolved into something that would’ve gotten us banned from restaurants. The eggs triggered a series of “Oh! Oh! OH!” that peaked with a throaty “Yessss!”

I was starting to suspect this was on purpose.

By the time she finished, my jeans were not feeling so comfy anymore, but I had to admit there was something deeply satisfying about taking care of her like this. Her hair felt like liquid silk, and the contented purrs she made as I worked out the tangles were almost as good as her food-gasms.

When breakfast was done, she set the tray aside and snuggled back against my chest. Was this my life now? Would I ever get anything done ever again?

“You should get dressed,” I suggested, sounding a bit more desperate than I meant to. “We can figure out plans for the day.”

She twisted to face me, looking immediately offended. “Why should I wear clothes now that you’ve already seen and touched everything? It’s insulting! Are you ashamed of my body?!” She gestured at herself dramatically. “This is art, Josh Becker! You should treasure every viewing opportunity!”

“Trust me, I agree,” I said as my eyes did another involuntary tour. “But you were the one who pumped the brakes last night. If you stay like this all day, it’ll be a matter of hours—maybe minutes—before I frankly fuck the shit out of you.”

She giggled sweetly, which was not the sound I expected. She was clearly delighted by this admission, though, so I supposed it was a win. “Very well. If my nudity threatens to overwhelm your restraint, I shall dress myself...” she paused for dramatic effect, “minimally.”

I escaped downstairs while she got “dressed,” grabbing my phone and collapsing onto the couch. A few minutes later, she descended wearing a silky pajama top that barely covered her tits and a pair of black panties so tiny that it might as well be made of thoughts and prayers. Why did I even buy those?

Not really too much of an improvement, but I decided to keep that observation to myself.

She flopped beside me, draping herself across my lap like a cat. “Rub my tummy,” she commanded, hiking up her top.

Well, hell. Here we go. I set my phone aside and complied, tracing gentle circles on her flat stomach. She made happy noises. “This is perfect,” she declared after a while. “Being pampered by my champion while we await our far off destiny.”

“Speaking of that destiny,” I said, “should we be doing anything specific while we wait for Black Lazarus? Besides the pampering schedule?”

She considered this, actually looking thoughtful. “You could meditate to gain passive XP a little each day. Oh! And we should collect the behemoth horns. Come on!”

She sat up suddenly. “We’ll meditate outside. Less distracting than being indoors with all the cushions.”

“Should you maybe put on actual clothes?” I suggested innocently. “It’s chilly today out there, you know.”

She sighed a pained sigh. “If I must...”

Twenty minutes and one wardrobe change later, we were crossing the field toward yesterday’s battlefield. Naturally, Elysia was riding me piggyback.

“Here’s good,” she announced when we reached the behemoth’s corpse, which was already starting to fade. I let her slide off my back and watched as she circled the massive carcass.

“So what’s the play here?” I asked.

“The horns are the prize,” she explained, pointing at the huge curved horns still embedded in the barn doorframe. “You’ll have to saw them off or they’ll fade with the carcass.”

“Will they even be useful here?” I asked as I examined the structural damage to my barn. “On Earth, I mean.”

“They’re used mostly for potions and enchantments in my world,” she shrugged. “But if we hang onto them, then one day the other party members might be able to make use of them.”

I cocked my head. She’d mentioned them before. She had also mentioned that she would see them again, and that the entire party was destined to face off against Black Lazarus, including me. I was just beginning to realize that that likely meant they were coming to Earth, too. That might be awkward when they realized my relationship with their friend.

But then, she also mentioned that every member of the Hero’s Party had a fated mate. Were their mates all Earth humans, then? I didn’t really get it, but I wasn’t really in a hurry to. For all I knew, they’d be showing up in twenty years, right before the fight with Black Lazarus.

…Why couldn’t he just be Evil Lazarus?

Anyway, with her guidance, I extracted both horns using a handsaw from my workshop. Each one was nearly four feet of wicked curve, and surprisingly light for their size.

“Meditation time,” she announced once we’d set the horns aside. “Let’s find a spot away from the corpse. Dead monster energy interferes with the System’s flow.”

I picked a grassy patch about thirty yards away, sitting cross-legged as instructed. Elysia knelt behind me and settled her small hands on my shoulders.

“Close your eyes, Sir Josh,” she said as she shifted her voice to something between ASMR and hypnosis. I was definitely a fan of this new register of hers. “Breathe deep. In through your nose, out through your mouth.”

At first, it felt ridiculous. This was some yoga instructor new age nonsense, not actual magic, but she knew better than I did, so I played along. Wouldn’t you know it, after a few minutes, something changed. A warmth spread through my limbs like good booze, coming in with a tingling at the base of my skull.

“That’s it,” she murmured as her hands worked my shoulders. I didn’t think that part was necessary—more likely that she just had trouble keeping her hands off of me. “You’re connecting to the System’s passive field. I can sense it.”

My head got fuzzy. The sensations intensified—warmth becoming heat, tingling evolving into a pleasant buzz that resonated in my bones.

When I finally opened my eyes, a notification floated in my peripheral vision, and I whipped my head to look at it:

MEDITATION COMPLETE

 XP Gained!

“Holy shit!” I jumped up. “I got XP for sitting on my ass!”

I turned to share my excitement, but Elysia was staring past me, her face suddenly pale as a ghost.

“What’s wrong?” I followed her gaze.

Twenty feet away, the air was doing that pre-portal shimmer thing again. Which… was weird.

“Impossible,” she whispered. “It’s too soon.” She looked at me for confirmation. “Right?”

“Right. It’s never come this early before.” I said as I moved protectively beside her. Neither of us were in armor or had weapons, so that added another shitty element to the whole thing. 

She shook her head, eyes locked on the growing distortion. “No—wait! That’s not a monster portal. That’s a transit portal, like mine!”

The tear expanded rapidly, forming an oval big enough for a person. Purple energy crackled and surged around its edges, sure enough, identical in shape and size to the one that had delivered Elysia.

A figure emerged—definitely female, definitely not human. She had golden-brown dog ears perched on her head and a matching tail that immediately started wagging. The hair on her head was golden brown in the same way as her ears and tail, fashioned into a bob, and with a big crimson bow sitting atop her head. Her outfit was something else: a white shawl with red trim over a black midriff-baring top and a high-slit skirt, which was also white and red. A black leather collar with a golden tag completed the look.

Her tan skin and amber eyes fixated on me, and she cocked her head in confusion. The second she spotted Elysia, however, her tail went into overdrive.

“Princess Elysia!” she cried, launching herself forward. “Your Highness!”

Before I could react, she’d tackled Elysia to the ground and was licking her face a bit too enthusiastically for it to be some sexy lesbian porn shit.

“Thank the Moon Mother you’re safe!” she exclaimed between licks. “One minute you were there, then POOF, just as planned, I couldn’t believe how smoothly it went! But my chrono crystal couldn’t find you, so I thought something went wrong, so I decided to search for you myself and—”

“Portia!” Elysia laughed, half-heartedly pushing at the dog-girl. “Unhand me at once, you fretful thing! I’m quite fine, I assure you!”

The dog-girl—Portia—finally relented, helping Elysia up before turning to examine me. Her nose twitched as she literally sniffed the air.

“Josh,” Elysia said, brushing grass off her clothes, “I am honored to introduce Portia, our party healer and apparently our newest housemate. Portia, this strapping man is Josh Becker, our new party member.”

I smiled and extended my hand. “Nice to meet you, Portia.”

Her eyes bulged in shock, and she recoiled like I’d pulled a gun, leaping backward with her ears flat and tail tucked. “Elysia!” she gasped with theatrical terror. “Is he... you mean… he’s the one?” For some reason, though, her tail started wagging before she even heard the answer.

Elysia sighed. “Yes, Portia. He’s the man of Earthrealm foretold by Juniper and the Seer.”

Portia’s gaze darted to me, eyes wide with exaggerated awe. “So this brutal, merciless gigolo of a man is to be my cruel and unforgiving master?”

Elysia blinked. So did I. The princess let out a sigh. “Sure,” she said flatly. “If it makes you happy, I suppose.”

“Wait, what?” I started. “I’m not—”

“I can feel his lecherous gaze undressing me!” Portia declared, though her tail had started wagging again. “Very well, Master! Pah-tooey!” she spit on the ground. “Since I have no choice, I shall submit to your cruel discipline and let you attempt to mold me into the bitch you wish for me to be.” She pressed the back of her hand to her forehead like she was in distress. “Oh woe is me!” She winked at me when she saw the look on my face.

“What is actually happening right now?” I muttered out of the side of my mouth in a near-monotone, unable to look away.

Her voice dropped to a stage whisper. “Oh, I do not look forward to the spankings, the collar-pulling, especially when he forces me to—”

“PORTIA!” Elysia snapped. “Can you contain your fantasies for literally thirty seconds, you lewd hound? We haven’t even finalized our introductions!”

Portia’s whole demeanor flipped like a lever had been pulled. With ears perked and tail wagging, she bowed deeply with a blush. “Forgive me, Princess! I was overcome by my joy.” She straightened, addressing me directly. “Sorry, Master. I am Portia Moonfang, Royal Healer of the Hero’s Party and First Cleric of the Moon Mother. I’m honored to serve!” Another wink.

I glanced at Elysia, who was looking exasperated. “Maybe we should take this inside?”

Ten minutes later, we were at my kitchen table. Portia was demolishing leftover bacon and eggs while Elysia and I nursed her coffee-adjacent abomination. I just did my best to catch up with the sudden influx of crazy bullshit.

“So you’re a healer?” I asked, trying to process this new development.

Portia nodded enthusiastically. “The finest in all of the Canid Kingdom! I can mend bones, cure poisons, even revive the recently dead!” She flexed her arm. “Plus I’m amazing with a war hammer.”

“War hammer?” I eyed her small frame skeptically. She was a few inches taller than Elysia, and a bit less petite, but she was no muscle mommy nor chungus by a long shot. Imagining her wielding a war hammer strained at my suspension of disbelief.

She grinned, showing pointed canines. “Don’t let the diminutive package fool you, Master. Though I’m sure you’ll be much stronger than me when our levels even out.” That look in her eyes was fucking trouble. I wanted very badly to ask about the weird outburst she had and why she was calling me Master all of a sudden, but I didn’t know quite how to broach it.

Suddenly she gasped, apparently determined to revisit the topic on her own. “Oh, curses! I took the last strip of bacon without permission!” She jumped up, bending over the table. “I suppose you’ll want to punish me for my greed, Master. How cruel of you! I spit in defiance! Pah-tooey!”

“Please don’t spit on my floor,” I said.

I’m not sure she heard me. I barely heard myself, because as I was saying that, the dog girl flipped up her skirt.

I choked on my coffee as my eyes locked onto the unexpected sight. Portia wore nothing under her skirt, presenting a perfectly round, firm ass and more than a peek at her puffy pussy lips. Her tan skin was lighter where underwear should have been, which implied that, for whatever reason, she chose not to bring underwear along with her today, but usually did. Two dimples above her rump marked the small of her back, but my eyes were mostly flitting between the winking of her asshole as she reached back to spread her cheeks, and the rapidly dampening slit of her cunt.

My brain blue-screened while my body had much more forceful reactions. I shifted uncomfortably, aware of my jeans mysteriously shrinking on me all of a sudden.

“Portia!” Elysia hissed, yanking the skirt down. “Cover yourself! It has been less than twenty minutes!”

“But my transgression—” Portia protested.

“Was imaginary,” Elysia finished. “Josh offered you the bacon. Be seated at once.”

Portia’s ears drooped, but she sat, shooting me hopeful looks like she thought I might set the record straight and offer her some punishment once and for all. Honestly, I was kind of considering it.

I blinked a few more times, stared down into my coffee, inwardly recited the Lord’s Prayer, and managed to restart. “So. How did you find us?”

“That would be the chrono crystals,” Elysia explained. “Each party member has one, save for you. They’re attuned for tracking across realms and time.”

“Took forever to lock onto her signature,” Portia added. “Twenty years of temporal displacement! How did that happen?!”

“Wait—So you’re stuck here too?” I asked, suddenly piecing some things together. “With us? For two whole decades?”

Portia nodded cheerfully. “Until the final battle and the appearance of the Tower of Convergence! There is no way back until then.” She leaned toward me eagerly. “I don’t suppose you have room for another houseguest, Master?”

“Plenty of room,” I assured her. It was true, but I wasn’t quite sure just what sort of dynamic we were headed toward. Elysia and I had just been getting close. A part of me thought we might be on the path to falling in love. And now we had a third wheel begging me to slap her ass every now and then? But when I looked at Elysia, for some reason this didn’t seem to register with her.

“You don’t need to call him Master, you know,” Elysia muttered. 

“But I want to,” Portia pouted, rivaling Elysia’s best efforts. “We are in his home. And, as our champion, he is our leader. And Canid girls need strong male authority figures—which my life as a member of the Hero’s Party has woefully deprived me of. We yearn for the cruel hand of a brutal lord, doling out punishment and making us obedient.”

I looked to Elysia for help. She shrugged. “I suppose it is what it is. As long as you’re good, I’m sure Sir Josh here will work hard to keep you satisfied.”

“Wait,” I said as realization dawned on me, mainly because the dog girl called me ‘our champion’, but now because of what Elysia just said. “When you said I was your ‘fated mate,’ Elysia, I thought each member of your party had your own person. But that’s not right, is it?”

Elysia sipped her caffeinated beverage, looking a bit annoyed, but nodded. “No. That’s not right.”

“So I’m...”

“The fated mate for all three of us,” she confirmed with a growl. “I thought I’d have more time with you to myself, but apparently not. One champion must bind the three heroines, representing the three great kingdoms of Antheria, and lead them to defeat Black Lazarus.”

“Three?” I echoed weakly.

Portia’s tail thumped against her chair. “Juniper hasn’t arrived yet, but she will! I’m sure it won’t be too long, Master, don’t worry!”

I sat back, trying to process this. One elf princess had turned my life into chaos already, though not the bad kind. Now there was a pretty lady with dog ears and a doggy tail calling me Master with a third woman incoming. I’m not going to lie. I was happy about this development. Intimidated, but happy.

“This is a lot to take in,” I admitted, trying to hide my pervy smile.

As I reached for my mug, my elbow knocked a spoon off the table. Before I could react, Portia was on her feet.

“I distracted Master and caused an accident!” she declared, bending over to touch her toes. Up went the skirt again, sweet Baby Jesus. “Such carelessness no doubt will earn your discipline, though I loathe it so much! Pah-tooey!”

I froze, mug halfway to my mouth, as I got another eyeful of Portia’s lack of underwear.

“In the name of the Silver-Bark Tree—Portia, pull your skirt down!” Elysia commanded. “You can’t display your buttocks every time gravity occurs!”

“Oh, I wish it were that simple, Princess. But if I don’t present myself, I fear Master will rip my clothes to shreds and do far worse than a few brutal smacks on my juicy peach of a rear end,” Portia sighed as she performatively bit the nails on one of her hands and tried to sound like she was fearful of me.

I set my mug down very carefully, going halfway into shock. Elysia reached across the table, squeezing my hand. “I know this is overwhelming.”

“You’re handling it well though,” Portia added brightly as she spread her cheeks. 

I blinked at her butt. “Please put that thing away for now, Portia.”

She whimpered. “Yes, Master. I mean—I won’t let this one act of mercy lead me into a false sense of security. I know when the time comes, the punishment that you dole out will be exquisite indeed—I mean, painful!”

“Alright,” I said, finally standing up. As I turned, my erection knocked a half-empty glass of water onto the floor but I just pretended it didn’t happen. The girls thankfully played along. “Guess I’d better set up another guest room.”

Portia’s tail went crazy. “I suppose I must share yours, Master, since you’ll no doubt want me at your disposal at all times.”

“Not a chance,” Elysia said firmly. “You just arrived in Earthrealm. He doesn’t even know you.”

Portia gasped, ears flattening. “The Princess is right! I’ve been too forward! My eagerness has made her jealous and exposed her intense lust for Master!” She leapt up and bent over again. “Master, you will want to punish this ill-mannered bitch, won’t you?”

“Jesus Christ,” I muttered, looking away while still catching an eyeful of her tan lines.

Elysia cringed and tugged the skirt down once more. “This is going to be an ongoing concern, isn’t it?”

“Only until Master establishes proper dominance,” Portia explained with her tail still wagging.

I shook my head, wondering what kind of chaos Juniper would bring when she arrived.

But as I headed up to the guest room to straighten things out for the new healer in our party, I supposed one thing was for certain: I’d probably never be bored or lonely again.

Chapter 7

The rest of that day was pretty uneventful because after introducing basic Earth concepts to the new arrival and eating a late lunch, Portia and Elysia both took a series of extremely long naps. Portia blamed her post-portal transit’s side effects for her exhaustion, but I didn’t even bother asking Elysia for an excuse. They didn’t even get up in time to help me kill the midnight monster, but to be honest, maybe that was for the best. I figured I could use the break to process everything. 

The following morning I woke up to the now routine sensation of Elysia curled against me. Her long blonde hair tickled my chin like it did every morning. For about ten seconds, I enjoyed the simple pleasure of holding my tiny elf princess—before reality came crashing down on me.

Specifically, reality crashed through my kitchen. The sound of destruction downstairs made me sit up so fast I almost launched Elysia across the room.

“What was that?” she mumbled, still half-asleep and adorably grumpy about it.

“Three guesses,” I said, already pulling on a shirt. “I’ll give you a hint—she has dog ears.”

The sounds grew louder as I headed downstairs—whimpering, clattering, and what sounded like someone trying to sweep up their own dignity. I rounded the corner into my kitchen and found exactly what I expected: a fucking mess.

Portia stood in the middle of my formerly clean kitchen, wearing nothing but the oversized t-shirt I’d loaned her last night. Flour coated every surface like fresh snow. Egg shell pieces covered the counter. Something in a pan was sending up worrisome black smoke.

“Master!” she yelped when she spotted me, her tail immediately disappearing between her legs. “I attempted to prepare breakfast as tribute, but the cooking implements here are so foreign and strange! I fear I did not succeed!”

I rushed to shut off the stove before my smoke alarm could do its thing. Opening windows to clear the air, I surveyed the damage. Nothing was actually broken—just extremely messy.

“It’s fine,” I assured her. “Not everyone’s born knowing how to cook.”

Her ears flattened against her head. “I’ve failed my first attempt to serve you properly.” She immediately dropped the broom and bent over the kitchen table. “I suppose my vicious Master will want to punish me for my incompetence! Very well! I will endure the shame and the pain, but know this—I will resist in my heart! Pah-tooey!”

“Nope, nope, nope,” I said quickly, grabbing her shoulders before she could perform her signature move. “No spitting indoors, please, and no punishments needed. The thought was nice. Maybe just let me handle breakfast for now? You’ve got plenty of time to figure out how it all works.”

She straightened up, looking equal parts disappointed and relieved. “As Master commands.” But then she suddenly looked past me and pointed at the stairs in disbelief. “The Princess awakens by herself!” she suddenly announced, her whole demeanor shifting. “And so early! We must praise her!”

I turned to find Elysia in the doorway, wearing one of my shirts as a nightgown and sporting bedhead that somehow looked intentional. She surveyed my flour-bombed kitchen with one perfectly arched eyebrow.

“I see the canine has redecorated,” she observed, her voice dripping with judgment.

“I’ll clean everything!” Portia volunteered eagerly.

“After breakfast,” I interrupted, already grabbing eggs that hadn’t been sacrificed to the kitchen gods. “Both of you sit. Let someone who knows what they’re doing handle this.”

As I made breakfast, my brain shifted to practical matters. “We need to get Portia some clothes,” I said, plating scrambled eggs. “But I can’t exactly parade another non-human through Millfield without raising questions.”

“Why not?” Portia asked through a mouthful of toast. “Is my appearance offensive?” Her hand went to one ear self-consciously.

“No, you’re cute as a button,” I said. “It’s just that humans aren’t used to seeing people with, uh, extra features.”

“We shall utilize your so-called online delivery services,” Elysia declared. “As you suggested we do for me initially.”

“Should’ve done that in the first place,” I admitted. “I’ll need to measure you, Portia. Make sure we get the right sizes.”

Elysia’s expression darkened instantly. “My garments would surely fit her adequately. She’s barely larger than myself.”

“She’s like five inches taller,” I pointed out. “And built a little thicker, too. Won’t take long.”

“Fine,” Elysia sighed heavily. “Though I suppose she cannot continue wearing your shirts indefinitely.” She fixed Portia with an icy look. “You understand, naturally, that Josh assists you from necessity, not desire.”

Portia nodded quickly. “Of course, Princess! Master’s actions stem from the necessity of duty alone. I know he loathes me as a wretch and wishes only for my suffering at his cruel hands.”

I watched this exchange with mounting concern. Was Elysia actually jealous? Then again, adding a dog-girl who kept flashing her ass had definitely shifted the dynamic.

After breakfast, I dug out a measuring tape from my study. “Alright, let’s get this done so we can order your stuff.”

Portia followed me to the living room with Elysia trailing behind. I unrolled the tape, suddenly realizing how awkward this was about to get.

“So, uh, I need to measure your bust, waist, and hips,” I explained, feeling Little Josh (not that little, mind you) strain like he was trying to peek out of my pajama pants for a better view of the proceedings.

“Understood!” Portia chirped. Before I could blink, she was pulling the borrowed shirt over her head.

“Wait!” I yelped, lunging forward. “Keep the shirt on! I can measure over it!”

She looked genuinely confused. “But wouldn’t skin contact provide superior accuracy?”

“It’ll be fine,” I insisted. “I just need to... get the tape under in a few spots.”

Portia nodded, looking vaguely disappointed. Honestly, if Elysia wasn’t shooting daggers with her eyes, I might have let the dog-girl her have her way. I approached cautiously, starting with the safe measurement—shoulders.

“Arms out,” I instructed, moving to the danger zone.

Getting the tape around her chest meant my hands inevitably brushed the sides of her breasts. Portia inhaled sharply, and her amber-gold eyes went wide.

“Sorry,” I muttered, trying to work fast. “Thirty-four.”

“No apologies necessary, Master,” she breathed. “Your cruel, rough touch is something I must learn to bear.”

From the doorway, Elysia made a sound that reminded me of an angry cat.

The waist measurement was mercifully straightforward. “Okay, got it,” I noted, then braced myself for the final challenge.

“Last one,” I said, crouching to measure her hips. This put my face uncomfortably close to regions I was trying hard not to think about. As I wrapped the tape around, my hand accidentally grazed her backside.

Portia gasped and immediately dropped to her knees, assuming the position.

“My lewd body has made Master uncomfortable!” she declared. “No doubt my cruel overlord will demand discipline from my slutty form! How dreadful! Pah-tooey!”

I sighed deeply. Elysia stood in the doorway looking thoroughly done with everything.

“Just give her what she wants,” she suggested tiredly. “She won’t cease until you do.”

I looked between Elysia’s “get on with it” expression and Portia’s expectantly raised posterior. Against every instinct screaming “bad idea,” I gave her bottom a middling tap.

Portia made a sound between a yelp and a moan. Her whole body shuddered. When she turned to look at me, her eyes had a dazed, unfocused quality.

“Finally!” she breathed, tail wagging furiously. “Master has established dominance! My devotion shall know no bounds!”

I caught Elysia’s eye over Portia’s head. Her raised eyebrow clearly said, “You’ve created a monster.” Like this was my idea.

“Okay, got the last number,” I said weakly, finishing the measurement and helping her up. “Let’s go order clothes before this gets weirder.”

Half an hour later, I was at my laptop with Portia hovering at my shoulder. Her tail hadn’t stopped wagging since The Incident, and she kept finding excuses to stand close. I could feel her warm breath on my neck each time she leaned in.

“This dress speaks to me, Master,” she said, pointing at a black number on screen.

“Looks good,” I agreed, adding it to the cart. “Nice to have formal options.”

“Josh!” Elysia’s voice rang from the kitchen. “I require immediate assistance!”

I sighed. “Be right there.”

In the kitchen, I found Elysia on tiptoes, reaching for a mug on a shelf she could easily access if she jumped half an inch. Her golden hair cascaded down her back as she stretched. The borrowed shirt rode up her thighs.

“Could you help?” she asked sweetly. “It’s so dreadfully high.”

I grabbed the mug. “Here you go.”

“You’re so strong and capable,” she purred, letting her fingers linger on mine.

“Uh-huh.” I wasn’t born yesterday. “I need to finish Portia’s order.”

Her smile flickered. “Of course. Carry on. For now.”

Back at the laptop, Portia was browsing combat boots.

“These would withstand battle,” she mused. “And these sandals for domestic comfort.”

“Good thinking,” I agreed, adding both. “Let’s grab some basics and—”

“Josh!” Elysia again. “Catastrophe has struck!”

I rushed back to find her standing in a puddle, her shirt soaked and clinging to her body.

“The water glass betrayed me,” she explained tragically. “Now I’m drenched and require immediate wardrobe assistance.”

I knew exactly what game she was playing. “Fine. Let’s get you changed.”

Upstairs, she immediately peeled off the wet shirt and stood there naked. Her pale skin was an absolute treat for the eyes, complemented by the beauty of her lustrous golden hair. Her pointed ears peeked through the strands.

“Which garments would please you most?” she asked innocently.

I grabbed the first things I saw. “These work. Listen—I really need to finish Portia’s order.”

She took the clothes but didn’t put them on. Her frown was apocalyptic, but her voice came out softer than expected. “Are you so eager to return to her?”

The vulnerability in her words made me soften and realize how impatient I was being. Elysia was still the same spoiled, bratty Princess from the moment I met her just a few days ago—that just was who she was, and I was bound to her in some weird way, for better or worse. She might be a pain in the ass sometimes, but she was my pain in the ass—with benefits. And I did find her odd ways charming, if I was honest with myself.

I thought hard about how to respond, and I decided to just be frank. I put my hands on her shoulders and smiled. “I just want to get this done. The sooner it’s done, the sooner I can focus on other things. Got it?”

“Logical,” she conceded, finally dressing. “You may return. Temporarily.”

I thought I reached her, but I’d barely sat down again when her voice echoed through the house.

“Josh! Mysterious pains require immediate massage therapy!”

I counted to ten under my breath. “In a minute, Elysia!”

The silence that followed was deafening. Then the pitter-patter of bare feet came next. She appeared in the doorway, marched over, and slammed my laptop shut.

“I require pampering,” she declared, climbing into my lap. “Immediately.”

Portia backed away, flattening her ears against her golden-brown hair. The big red bow atop her head twitched with the wary waggles of her ears. “I should give you two privacy...”

“No,” I said firmly, hands on Elysia’s waist but not removing her. “Elysia, I get that you’re feeling neglected, but this is absolutely unreasonable and bratty of you. Give me a fucking break. I’m trying to help Portia, our fellow party member—your friend. All I need is ten minutes, tops.”

Elysia looked guilty. “But—”

“How about this,” Portia offered meekly, folding her hands under her chin. She was wincing as she spoke, like she expected the Princess to launch herself at her. “Perhaps let our champion finish my order—as he said, ten minutes at most. Then the rest of the day shall be all yours. Is that fair, Your Highness?”

She considered it, her pout intensifying. “Very well. But I remain here while you work.” She adjusted in my lap but didn’t move.

I internally groaned. “Alright, then.”

For almost exactly ten minutes, I finished Portia’s order with Elysia perched possessively on my lap. She played with my hair and occasionally kissed my cheek, clearly marking her territory, and I could tell from Portia’s wide eyes that the display wasn’t lost on her either. The dog-girl watched with obvious fascination. 

I didn’t think that Elysia’s show was having the desired effect on her. It was like Portia was getting hungrier and more fascinated by me the more she realized her friend wanted me to herself. Not the most healthy dynamic, maybe. As it turned out, Elysia wasn’t the only brat I was stuck with, whether I liked it or not.

To be fucking clear, I liked it, red flags be damned.

With the order submitted including overnight shipping, I closed the laptop. “Done. As promised, the afternoon is yours.”

Elysia brightened immediately. She hopped off and dragged me to the couch. “Foot massage first. Then thirty minutes minimum of hair brushing. Then we shall see.”

I spent hours pampering her exactly as promised—foot rubs, hair brushing, feeding her grapes while we watched TV—and letting her feed me until I was so tired of grapes I almost threw up. Portia watched from nearby, her tail occasionally wagging so hard for hours on end that I had to wonder how many calories that burned.

After a while, Elysia dozed off, so I had my opening to get some water. When I got up and headed for the kitchen, I caught Portia looking at her reflection in the silver fridge door, practicing Elysia’s imperious pose, nose high, finger pointing at invisible servants.

“...What are you doing?” I asked.

She yelped and hit the floor. “You caught me copying the Princess! Oh, woe is me! I suppose my heartless Master will want to punish me. Very well—I am brave in the face of cruelty.”

“Nope,” I cut her off, stepping around her. “Punishment quota’s full for today.” She made doggy whimpers as I left her there. I couldn’t help but wonder just why she was mimicking the princess, though.

As I was walking back to Elysia’s sleeping form, I realized that my single swat on Portia’s butt had opened Pandora’s box. I really would have to keep spanking her every now and then, and she probably hoped I’d escalate things too. I wasn’t sure I had the heart for that, no matter how into it she was.

As dusk approached, we suited up for the nightly monster patrol. Armor on, sword ready.

“Another monster tonight?” Portia asked, watching me gear up. Her crimson bow sat slightly askew atop her head. We had explained to her by this point just what the routine was out here, and it didn’t seem to surprise her in the same way Elysia seemed to be expecting monsters when she first arrived.

“Like clockwork,” I confirmed. “Every night for months, very rare that they don’t show.”

Her eyes lit up. “I shall provide more combat support!”

With a flourish, she produced a war hammer bigger than she was. The thing was covered in glowing runes and looked like it could demolish buildings.

“Where were you hiding that?” I asked, genuinely baffled.

She winked. “A lady has her secrets, Master.”

From the couch, Elysia yawned dramatically. “I suppose I must supervise again. For morale purposes. Not participating, naturally.”

“Naturally,” I said dryly. “Shall I carry Her Highness to the battlefield?”

“Obviously,” she replied, already raising her arms. “Up.”

I scooped her up. To my surprise, Portia dropped to all fours and bounded ahead, moving with shocking speed.

“Canid locomotion,” Elysia explained, noting my expression. “Rather undignified, if you ask me, but her kind can move with remarkable efficiency.”

I blinked in wonder. “Is she carrying that war hammer in her fucking teeth?”

When we got to the field, Portia rose to stand again, gripping her hammer confidently. I deposited Elysia on a viewing stump a safe distance away from where the action would take place, then took position beside our newest party member.

“Stay sharp,” I advised her, tempted to give her a friendly pat on the back but decided not to introduce any new variable to our dynamic just before a fight. “These portals spit out everything from animated armor to hairy behemoths.”

Portia nodded, looking more serious than I’d seen her so far. Her stance widened, and her eyes narrowed, and suddenly she looked like someone who could actually wield that ridiculous hammer of hers.

The air shimmered, and the pre-portal distortion started to affect the air in front of us. The portal opened slowly, with purple energy crackling as it expanded wider and wider.

A roar emerged before we could see the source. Then a massive green hand gripped the portal’s edge, followed by a head that had clearly been beaten with the ugly stick.

The creature that emerged stood eight feet tall, with tusks like a wild boar and muscles that had their own muscles. It wore armor that looked like it was cobbled together from a scrap heap, topped with a crown made of bones and jagged metal.

“An Orc King,” Portia identified instantly. “Upper tier orc fighter. They’re resistant to blunt trauma but still vulnerable to piercing. Watch the tusks—it contains a mild toxin that causes disorientation.”

I blinked at her instant analysis, then nodded my head in approval. “You distract, I’ll flank?”

She nodded, already going on the move. The Orc King spotted her first and charged. Portia herself waited until the last second, then dodged with gymnastic talent, connecting her hammer with its knee mid-spin.

The impact was a deafening crunch. The orc stumbled but stayed upright, spinning quickly. It swung a club at her, barely missing Portia as she rolled away.

I circled behind and levied my own attack. My blade bit deep into the monster’s massive thigh. Purple blood sprayed as the creature howled, then spun fast enough to make my eyes widen and glutes clench. Its backhand caught me square and sent me airborne.

I hit the ground hard, skidding several feet. “That sucked,” I groaned.

“Josh!” That squeal was Elysia, but it was Portia who was suddenly there, hands glowing blue as she pressed them to my chest. The pain vanished like magic—because it literally was magic, probably.

“Thanks,” I wheezed as I got up.

“I have blessed you with holy restoration,” she reported, already turning back to the fight. “More healing will be available post-battle if needed, Master!”

We figured out a pattern that started working for us soon enough. I darted in for surgical strikes while Portia alternated between distraction duty and combat medic. From her stump, Elysia watched with growing agitation, fingers drumming an impatient beat.

After several minutes, the Orc King was leaking from multiple wounds and moving slowly. We had it cornered against a tree.

“One more good hit,” I panted, raising my sword for the finale. But to my surprise, the green giant let out a defiant roar as its adrenaline surged and looked like it was preparing for round two.

A blonde blur shot past me. Elysia, moving faster than I knew she even could, launched herself at the orc with hands crackling with blue energy.

“Oh, no you don’t! Die, foul creature!” she cried, slamming her palms into its chest.

The explosion sent the Orc King through the tree. It lay smoking, and there was a massive hole where its heart used to be.

Elysia landed gracefully and dusted her hands off on her platemail bikini bottoms. “There,” she announced as she turned to me expectantly, ready for my praise. “Problem solved.”

I stared at her. “That was pretty badass. I didn’t know you could do that.”

She preened visibly. “I told you I was powerful. I simply choose my moments with great care.”

“Magnificent, Princess!” Portia exclaimed, clapping enthusiastically. “Such devastating magic! It’s not every day you actually contribute! We must remember to praise her more later, Master!”

The blue victory window appeared:

VICTORY! XP Gained!

Not quite there, but getting closer. Elysia stepped toward me, eyes still full of expectation. “Aren’t you going to carry me home? I’ve expended precious energy on your behalf, and I didn’t even get any XP for it since you did most of the damage.”

“Of course,” I said as I lifted her up. She immediately snuggled against my chest and shot Portia a look that clearly said “mine.”

Back home, we cleaned up and ate dinner. Exhaustion was settling in. After dishes, I announced bedtime.

“I shall accompany you,” Elysia declared as she took my hand. “Magical exertion justifies a proper rest.”

I didn’t argue, letting her lead me upstairs. She changed into one of my shirts, then climbed into bed and patted the space beside her.

A soft knock interrupted us. I opened the door to find Portia in borrowed pajamas from Elysia that were slightly too small, clutching a pillow and looking vulnerable.

“Since we’re fated mates,” she said softly, “shouldn’t I learn to share sleeping arrangements? I promise to be unobtrusive.”

From the bed, Elysia made a sound like an irritable teakettle. “The bed is insufficient for three!”

Portia’s ears drooped sadly.

I thought carefully about this. There were a lot of reasons why I should probably de-escalate the bed sharing situation. First of all, Elysia wanted to take things slower, and I did respect that, and now I was worried that her friend’s presence was putting pressure on her to escalate our relationship before she was ready. I also hoped that I might be able to fix her a bit more before we did anything more than we already had.

As for sharing the bed with her and Portia, that just sounded like an awful idea that was going to end in drama unlike anything I’d ever seen in all my days. Portia was trying to encroach in her own selfish way, Elysia was trying to possess me all to herself, and I was caught in the middle. The sensible thing to do was to send Elysia away, and Portia, and say that for the time being, it was best for everyone if we separated our sleeping arrangements. I cleared my throat. “The bed’s plenty big,” I heard myself say, defying my own thought processes entirely. “Room for everyone.”

Well, it’s the thought that counts.

Portia’s face brightened immediately, at least. She bounded past me onto the bed, claiming the opposite side from Elysia, who looked ready to do crime on her dog-eared friend.

I climbed into the middle. Both women immediately attached themselves to me. Elysia draped possessively across my chest while Portia curled against my side, pressing her insane, soft, pornographic curves into me. Josh 2: The Penis was so hard I could have probably clubbed that Orc King to death with it.

“Goodnight, Master,” Portia whispered, tail thumping contentedly.

“Goodnight, my champion,” Elysia murmured, pressing closer and kissing my neck.

“Goodnight,” I replied, facing the ceiling. 

As they drifted off, I couldn’t help wondering what fresh madness tomorrow would bring with it—and what would happen when Juniper, the mysterious third member of their original party, eventually showed up.

Something told me my bed was going to need an expansion.