Whoo, I made it on time with this one. Anyway, I'm feeling really good about this chapter (aside from the Shouko monologue), so I really do hope you enjoy. Also, for those who are questioning Shouko's personality in this chapter, I'd be happy to respond to a review. I'd happily answer any questions, actually. Just bring it up in the review, and I'll respond.

Also, there are no scene breaks in this chapter! For some reason, I'm really proud of that. Meh, the achievements of an amateur author.

Ooh, before I forget. Whoever guesses the identity of this person - H*t*g* - will win a spoiler!

Disclaimer: I'm not making any money off of this. Suing me would be a waste of your resources.

Welcome to the World Only the Summons Know!

Chapter Thirty-Eight: Me, Restraints, and Bargains

Keima was afraid. Very, very afraid. It had been two days since what he'd like to call The Lockdown. Since then, Shouko had managed to cuff his wrists to the bedposts, strap his waist to the bed with a giant leather strap, and tie his ankles to the other bedposts. It was very, very uncomfortable, especially since she was straddling him all the way. She controlled everything. She fed him various kinds of aphrodisiacs (which didn't really work on him). She let him drink (sure, it was from her mouth to his, but what can you do when you're desperate for water?). She even managed his... waste, changing the horrible diaper she made him wear. Luckily, his head wasn't strapped to anything, so he usually turned his head to the side and thought happy thoughts till the deed was done. All in all, it was a horrible experience, all orchestrated by the woman in lingerie.

She was, at the moment, washing herself down. Those moments – aside from when she got food, water, and other necessities – were the only moments where she left him alone. For the rest of the time, she was either trying to seduce him into loving her (or at least making love to her – which won't happen), taking care of him, or just spending time with him, doing mundane things like watching soap operas with him (obviously a psychological trick to get him to fall for her), reading romance manga together, and more. It would've actually been sort of fun, had it not been for his lack of will and the lack of a galge in the room.

They were also the moments where he could escape... if he could actually perform it. All his PFPs were confiscated when she stripped him down for the first sponge washing session, and the sharp edges of his glasses were covered. The only sharp thing that he could access in the love hotel room was his tsukkomi, but sadly, it hadn't progressed to the point where he could cut solid objects with it. So far, he could only cut down idiotic comments with the power of the tsukkomi. He cut off the unproductive line of thought as Shouko emerged from the shower in the nude. She was no doubt a beauty, and her body was already enticing while clothed. Her desirability was only augmented with those clothes off. She was even more alluring just out of the bath: water trailed down her creamy thighs, her face was blemish free, and the towel that she had just started putting on hugged her curvy and lithe figure. Even if it was the sixth time that she showed off her birthday suit, it still stunned the boy, and she made sure to capitalize on it. "You like what you see, Akihisa?"

"After seeing it six times? Please," sharply replied the boy, tilting his head back to relax his neck muscles, which were straining under the job of keeping his head tilted so that he could see Shouko. In fact, most of his body – especially a part in the nether regions of his person – felt strained, as if being a hostage was hard work. It was, especially when you factored in the psychological effects of being a captive, not to say that it wasn't exhausting physically. After resting a little, he tilted his head up again, so that he would be able to see any "ambushes" coming, even if he could do nothing to prevent it.

Shouko smirked, making her way over to the dresser. Keima couldn't help but notice the exaggerated sway of her hips, the movement appetizingly alluring. She picked out another article of clothing – a sports bra emblazoned with a logo of a bunny – and shut the door with a soft slam, dropping her towel for a bit as she slipped on the tight sports bra. As she reached for the drawer below it, she made sure to make a good show of exposing her derriere for Keima's viewing pleasure. "Well, according to paragraph three of this chapter, the sight of me au naturel still makes your heart jump. Oh, how sweet of my Akihisa!"

"Don't go around breaking fourth walls as you please, H*t*g* wannabe!" objected Keima, slapping away Shouko's boke with his righteous blade of tsukkomi. Shouko put up a mask of surprise, putting her hands to her porcelain cheeks. Keima knew that she was referencing something; he just couldn't remember what. Still, that didn't matter. What did matter was to escape this Shouko-filled room with his sanity intact. "And no, it doesn't make my heart jump. The only thing that makes my heart jump are the girls in my galges! Oh, the feels- wait, is that smoke!?"

"Oh, yes. I just need to incinerate something," calmly said Shouko. Forcing his head up all the way, she was able to see the horror that Shouko was causing. She was scrunched up with her knees pressed against her bountiful chest, managing the spitfire that was roasting... his PFP. And his OreKohai game. And a bunch of other games that he brought along to the date preceding the Lockdown. Immediately, he struggled against his bonds, desperately trying to save his games. As he tried to escape, Shouko chuckled manically, her eyes glinting with blood-lust. "Goodbye, obstacles to our love!"

"Shouko, don't cast it into the fire!" exclaimed Keima, wiggling against his restraints. In fact, he was so motivated that his God of Conquest mode was activated, augmenting his strength, endurance, and speed. Still, it wasn't enough to break his constraints. Shouko made sure to keep it tight. All Keima could do now was look at the destruction of the thing he lived for. "Shouko!"

"Fufufu..." chuckled Shouko, a big psychotic grin on her face, as black marks made their way from where the flames licked the PFP outward. Soon, the gaming device was coated in black, disgusting Keima further. He thrashed, shaking the bed with his movements. 'S-She's destroying my babies! She must be stopped, even if it costs me my life! Screw Diana, screw the Archaic, screw everything! The games have to be saved!'

Keima lashed out with his arms, his wrists being held back by the bedpost that was already splintering from the punishment Keima was dishing out. The waist restraint was still going strong – Shouko made sure of the quality of the leather – while the bedpost closest to his feet showed no signs of giving in. Keima yanked and yanked on the rope holding back his right arm, desperation clouding his judgment. As Shouko pulled out a game titled One Leaf, with a poorly drawn girl – Yotsuba Sugimoto, AKA Yokkyun – on the cover, Keima cried, "Stop this right now, Shouko! I-I'm willing to make a deal!"

"Oo, what kind of deal do you have in mind, Aki?" asked Shouko, who almost condemned the game to a fiery demise. Putting a finger on the corner of her lips while pouting cutely, she put down the game as she looked at Keima, waiting for an answer. Keima, rolling his eyes at the unoriginal nickname, tilted his head up. His wrist was horribly bruised – it was covered in black and blue – and the right bedpost still looked like it could take a little more before giving in, so the only way for him to save his games was to negotiate. 'Man, Shouko has all the cards! There's no way for me to get out of this one without sacrificing something! Why?'

"Because we have a very biased author," said Shouko, suddenly shifting from her dere-dere front to her business face. She stared Keima down, obviously anxious for his answer. Sure, it would be nice to take him without his consent, but it would taste all the more sweeter if he gave it freely. Plus, she could finally remove those straps that have been restraining her from moving him into the positions she likes as she pleases.

If only it could be more than just a moment of love...

She knew that it would never be like that. Once she had gotten enough energy to be able to stay away for more that one hour, Shouko and Diana had a talk about various things. About the Goddess. About the Archaic. About him. She learned about what Akihisa – no, Keima – was trying to do. They were apparently trying to capture the Runaway Spirits in girls' hearts to save the world, and apparently, the girls of Fumizuki Academy were under siege. Almost everything else flew over Shouko's head at that time, since all she thought about was that he was fake. Akihisa – Keima - was fake. Still, she couldn't bring herself to hate him. He did it all for them, and he never really lied about himself. He always acted cold, and he never truly acted like the Ultimate Idiot in front of her. It was as if lying to her wasn't an option to him. He always tried to be himself... so did it really matter if he lied to her... right? As long as these feelings of hers were real, nothing else mattered. That didn't mean that he'd be by her side forever, though. That was why she could only wish for something more than a night of love. "Er... how about I take you out on another date?"

"Eh?" asked Shouko, surprised. She had always thought that Keima wanted to distance himself from her as much as possible. Why else would he resist her advances?

"Ahem... I take you out on a date in exchange for my games and my freedom," explained Keima, who wanted to do an explanatory pose – finger up, hand on elbow, arm up – but was restrained by the dang rope. "I have nothing to bargain with that isn't already yours, and I'm sure that you're tired of this scenery. A date would be perfect."

"I accept... Keima."