During a hot summer morning like any other, the people of Hoburns filled its streets with conversation and laughter, giving the city life as they moved through it, just as blood gives life to the body as it courses through its veins. Coin exchanged at markets, happy couples holding hands, children playing and laughing, foreign visitors sightseeing and enjoying the culture, the smell of street food enticing passers-by…
In the case of Hoburns, and virtually all of Roble by now, the people were living such happy lives thanks to prosperity and the guarantee of peace granted by His Majesty, the divine and powerful Ainz Ooal Gown, the greatest and kindest monarch of all. Places that lacked something as profound to drive its people could never hope to match the invigorating atmosphere of Roble, where safety and cost of living were not something the common person needed to be concerned with.
But there were always exceptions. As lively and cheery as the streets were, they were only ever a window into the mood of the majority. All that liveliness could disappear in an instant, the interiors of buildings often acting as pockets of something completely different, like air bubbles deep under the water's surface.
Sometimes it was merely a home whose residents were absent, quiet and peaceful in its own way. Sometimes it was the home of a mourning family, grief thick in the air. Sometimes it was a tavern during a particularly heated session of cards, tension rising proportionally with bets. Sometimes it was a church, peaceful yet teeming with excitement about their God - or Gods, as many would say. Sometimes it was the bedroom of a loving couple engaging in carnal acts while their child slept in another room.
And sometimes, it was a residence that eluded a more simple description.
As noon slowly approached, a young woman woke up in her dark, quiet and hot bedroom, with only her torso covered by the somewhat dirty, thin blanket. She had little energy, as always. Despite dedicating half the day to sleep, Nina Blanco could not remember the last time a full night of rest went uninterrupted due to constantly waking up, whether that be due to nightmares or seemingly no specific cause.
Getting up felt like a tall order, but that was always the case. With a pained sigh, the woman reached for her own hair, bringing it closer. It was incredibly messy and getting far too long, its brown colour barely discernible in the darkness. It took Nina a good deal of time before she finally got up with sluggish movements, opening the thick blinds.
With the light of day to guide her, she made her way to the closet. Nina's outfit for going out today would be the same as usual. Long sleeves and a mask were necessary, lest she'd be continuously stopped by people concerned for her health, many even offering to take her to a healer, handing over water and presenting their shoulders to lean on. Looking down at her arms, it was obvious why, even if things had been like this for a while now.
After getting fully dressed, now carrying her mask in her hands, Nina had made her way to the barren kitchen. There normally wasn't much food in her home at any given point, but the young woman always made sure there was enough for breakfast, the most important meal of the day, as her late mother used to say. Setting the mask down on the table, Nina went over to the counter, where all the food was laid out. In a box, there were a few slices of bread, some grapes, and a few blueberries. Next to it, a half-empty bottle of milk stood.
Nina had little in the way of appetite due to the state of her mind, but knew she had to eat to survive. With a sigh, the woman opened the bottle and took a swig. That was always the easy part. Setting it down again, she clenched her weak fists and reached for a slice of bread. But after that, it simply sat in Nina's hand, the girl's blue eyes staring at it with uncertainty. This was food. She needed to eat it. She did not want to. Despite the knowledge that Nina needed to eat, the lack of any desire to do so made the simple action a difficult one to take. With a deep breath, Nina dismissed that worry. She needed energy to go to church today.
Reluctantly taking a single bite, Nina chewed slowly and without satisfaction. But when it came to the second bite, she threw the slice back into the box and instead took a sip of milk and closed the bottle.
Whatever. She could just eat later.
Taking the mask again, Nina made her way through another door and down a set of stairs. The ground floor was the workshop and an area for potential customers to look over some samples. The Blanco family had a tradition of shoemaking going back to Nina's great-grandfather. Despite her rather young age, Nina was also considered an adept in the profession. These days, however, she did not work very much at all, the lack of energy and motivation proving crippling for her livelihood.
But as an inhabitant of the Sorcerer Kingdom, Nina had greatly benefited from the prosperity brought on by the divine and glorious Sorcerer King, His Majesty Ainz Ooal Gown, allowing her to just barely get by despite how little she worked. Of course, Nina did not deserve in the slightest to gain anything from his enlightened leadership.
...
After a good amount of time spent mustering the courage to exit her front door, Nina was finally outside, walking with great unease to the one church she always visited, the one closest to her home. The young woman tried her best to avoid the gazes of others and to not stand out as much as possible.
Arriving at the church was similar. As much as Nina hated being impolite, she could not bring herself to return the clergy's friendly greetings. The shame was too painful, the guilt too profound, both stabbing away at her like needles, intensifying based on how much kindness others showed her. Nina did not deserve the kindness of strangers, let alone to have caring friends. She did not deserve to have anyone care about her. This self-imposed isolation was more appropriate.
Once inside the large building decorated beautifully with their religion's imagery in both interior and exterior, Nina found herself an empty spot on one of the benches which all faced the large statue of His Majesty in the front, doing her best to ignore the others and not let their presence stress her out further. She needed to focus on prayer. And with her head down, that's exactly what Nina did.
'... Your Majesty... I, a humble faithful come to you. I come to you today to thank you... I thank you so much. For saving me, and my homeland. Thank you for rescuing me and so many others from that horror. From what those demi-humans were doing to us. For saving me before I was butchered for rations like the rest of my family. Thank you for rebuilding my homeland and showing its people safety, even prosperity and wealth. Thank you for everything. For your kindness, your leadership, your guidance in these horrible times...
And I am so, so sorry... So sorry for doubting Your Majesty... For not accepting you as my saviour and true God...
And Your Holiness... Neia Baraja... I...'
For the first time, Nina had noticed the tears forming in the corners of her eyes. She was very used to being on the verge of crying by now. But as they were growing too large and frequent to ignore, Nina started properly weeping.
'I'm so, so, so sorry, Your Holiness... For doubting you... For joining that crowd in shouting those awful things... I- I'm so... I'm so sorry for hurling that rock at you...'
In the wake of the invasion, Nina had felt completely lost and traumatised. Everyone she cared for was dead. Returning to what little remained of her hometown, the only familiar face was an old friend of her father's, a priest of the Four Gods. The Four False Gods.
He had shown her great compassion, great understanding, and much-needed guidance. Nina was never really a religious person before that point, but she was spending more and more time at the church there. It was hard not to adopt their beliefs.
Nina continued weeping, despair and regret deepening with every moment.
'I wish I could take it back! I regret it so much! I'm so sorry…'
She truly wished for nothing more than to go back and undo it. So desperately.
But that was not possible.
No matter how much she wanted it to be.
...
Nina's stay in the church was not very long. An urge brought her back home.
Sitting back on her bed, Nina was in nothing but her underwear, fingers caressing her forearms. They, much like the rest of her body, were thin. Far too thin, but not as bad as when she was a demi-human prisoner. A feature shared by a smaller portion of her body was the scars, shallow and mostly horizontal, with some spelling out letters. Their number was great. With her right hand, Nina grabbed a knife, one she made sure to keep as sharp as possible.
Bringing it to her left forearm, there was that hesitation, the instinct telling her to not harm her own body. But with how many times she'd done this, it was easy to overcome. With clenched teeth, the pain started immediately as she started spelling out the word "heretic".
And soon after that, the room was filled with a quiet laughter, the sensation as exciting as it was painful.
Bad people need to be punished.
Nina was a bad person.
This is what she deserved.
She truly, genuinely hated herself.
... ...
The instant Demiurge stepped through the [Gate], many eyes were already scrutinising every detail of his appearance, which was now one altogether separate from Jaldabaoth's, his form now that of an imp, the one used for public appearances. His business suit was also a different one from the usual style, somewhat mimicking the colour scheme of his dear creators' preferred battle gear. Once the portal closed behind him, Demiurge looked around, taking in the surroundings just as curiously as the onlookers were eyeing him.
Hoburns was now a safe and prospering settlement, as was everywhere his wise master ruled over. It was good these vermin knew their place, though their veneration overall felt far too mild considering the impossibly great chasm between their worthless selves and the leader of the Supreme Beings. Still, it was a start. Looking straight ahead, the demon began walking towards the gate of Neia Baraja's mansion.
...
Being led through a few hallways, Demiurge noted the respect with which the paladins regarded him, meaning they almost certainly all knew of his esteemed official position within the Sorcerer Kingdom.
And soon, the demon stood before what seemed to be the door in question.
"Her Holiness is expecting you. You may enter."
Demiurge felt some amount of... Well, there were several identifiable emotions brewing within him, and several that blended and mixed together into something less coherent.
First, there was of course intrigue. Neia Baraja was obviously as charismatic, crafty, and ingenious as a propagandist could get, so skilled in the interpersonal that she enthralled the minds of countless, and even defeated Albedo in the struggle for Lord Ainz's heart despite joining the fray years late. Albedo was Demiurge's rival in intellect, and one of the few people he had found virtually impossible to read. The succubus was hand-created by the Supreme Being Tabula Smaragdina as a woman of beauty beyond compare, on a level only really reached by others within Nazarick itself, or once in a generation when it came to outsiders. Yet the very young, by most accounts unremarkable-looking Neia Baraja bested Albedo handily in achieving what was once the succubus' chiefest goal. What kind of mind, what kind of personality and outlook would he witness interacting with such a person? And would any of it be even faintly reflective of the truth beyond the facade? It was truly, profoundly intriguing... and disquieting.
Realising he had hesitated for far too long, Demiurge reached for the handle, opened the door, and entered.
The decorated room was several times longer than it was wide, a massive table serving as its centrepiece, surrounded by many comfortable-looking chairs. The early afternoon's sun rays illuminated everything perfectly, blinds not covering any of the windows. At the head of that great table of course sat Neia Baraja, the radiant white-gold dress complimenting her wings, golden hair, and eye-cover perfectly. Within the woman's arms was the daughter Lord Ainz had blessed her with, looking at Demiurge with a curious, somewhat perturbed expression. And on the High Priestess' face, there was a friendly, gentle smile.
And that smile only made the demon more anxious. It reminded him of Albedo's. Was it just as much of a front? Reading her was probably going to be a fool's errand. Maybe he should just focus on the words being said instead…
"... Sorry about Ayame. She's been very clingy today, protesting our separation with tears, regardless of how brief."
Looking into Baraja's arms, the infant was now making quiet sounds and reaching for her mother's face with a strange look that seemed... frustrated? It was hard to tell with babies. As the door closed behind him, Demiurge bowed and spoke honestly.
"Of course. The comfort of Lady Ayame is a priority, politeness aimed at one such as I is not worthwhile to even think about in comparison."
The wife of his master chuckled in a manner Demiurge thought seemed very genuine, but knew it was bad to rely on instincts with this woman.
"Yes, I had assumed a denizen of Nazarick would say that. Hmm, and I suppose there's not much of a need for this, either..."
Baraja removed the visor covering her eyes and set it aside on the table, revealing a naturally hostile glare that made her even more difficult to read, a detail of her appearance not known to the wider public. In response, Lady Ayame stopped reaching for her mother's face and instead laughed happily.
"But where are my manners? I'm Neia Baraja. Please raise your head."
"Yes. I am Demiurge, a Floor Guardian of Nazarick."
"Hm. Would you like to sit?"
"Very well."
The demon sat down a few seats away from Baraja, who used the time to smile at her daughter.
"Now, the letter said you had some questions?"
"Yes, shall we get right to it?"
"I've no issue with that."
"In that case..." Demiurge adjusted his glasses and cleared his throat. "Why did you fall in love with Lord Ainz?"
"Ah, hmm..."
Baraja tilted her head and looked away, expression changing into one of deep thought, soon replaced by a blush and happy smile.
"Well, before I answer, may I know as to why you're asking about such a thing?"
"I merely wish to understand my master, and, well, several other things too."
The Prophetess nodded.
"I understand... Well, I suppose we can't perfectly understand our own feelings, let alone describe them with words, a tool of rationality, can we? I am simply not able to truly put into words the exact things I felt back then, not anymore. I'm a different person now, my old life distant and entirely dissimilar. But I will say that during such a painful time, when I had lost everything and everyone dear to me, the profound wisdom and honest kindness of a great monarch was something I was drawn to like a moth to a flame... especially when it was aimed at me, specifically...
It inspired within me a deep thankfulness. Thankfulness gave way to loyalty. Loyalty gave way to trust. I am a woman and Ainz is a man. Is it not merely natural that fondness could take hold?"
Demiurge nodded, focusing on remembering the answer and emotion during its delivery for now, he could ponder the precise meaning of words and tone later.
"And may I ask why Lord Ainz fell in love with you?"
"... Say, Sir Demiurge, what is the exact purpose of this line of questioning? These are personal matters, after all. What do you seek to understand, precisely?"
"I can only provide the same answer as earlier. If my inquiries are unwelcome, then please accept my apologies, and I shall take my leave."
Neia Baraja nodded as Demiurge bowed again.
"I see. Well, raise your head. I suppose it will depend on the specific questions on a case-by-case basis. When it comes to my husband's reasons, I would advise you to-
"Achoo!"
Lady Ayame sneezed.
Immediately, Baraja and her daughter exchanged wide-eyed looks, the former startled and concerned, the latter startled and confused, with no idea as to what had just happened. Shortly after, Lady Ayame had started to rapidly look back and forth between him and her mother, as if the sneeze was something one or both of them had purposely done to her in some sort of conspiracy.
"Are you okay, Ayame?"
"U!"
"Ah, I hope it's nothing... I'll give you a nice little something against illnesses later just in case, okay?"
The smile and reassuring tone of her mother seems to have made Lady Ayame forget her worries about the strange attack by an unknown perpetrator.
"Ah, where was I? Ah, yes, when it comes to similar questions regarding my husband, I'd advise you to ask him instead, as I do not wish to speak for him in this manner."
"I understand. In that case, may I ask what love is to you?"
"What love is to me? Well, that's quite a question. Give me a moment to think."
Demiurge agreed, it was quite a difficult and broad inquiry, yet perhaps the most important one he had devised.
"Of course."
Following his response, Baraja leaned back a bit, gaze once again averted for a time. After some time, the High Priestess furrowed her brows, seemingly having some trouble with the question.
"Ou..."
A concerned vocalisation from Lady Ayame seems to have surprised her mother, who looked down at her immediately, the two making eye contact. Baraja's mouth opened slightly for just a moment as if in some realisation before she smiled to reassure the infant, looking back up at Demiurge after a few seconds.
"I believe love is simple yet difficult. In essence, it is affection. Deep interest, care, fondness, liking for someone very special to oneself. It is to want the best for someone, to want to see them grow, to enjoy their presence. It is to work tirelessly and with joy toward another's fulfilment. And love can be felt for many different people in one's life, each bringing many other different associated feelings with it. For example, romantic love carries with it lust, among other things. But regardless of anything additional brought about by the specific type of love, the fundamental foundation of it is the same one I described, whether that be towards one's parents, close friends, lovers, children..."
And just as it felt as though Baraja was finished, she continued.
"... or one's comrades... and their creations..."
The words had struck Demiurge like lightning, a jolt that made him flinch with his entire body.
He was committed to only listening attentively and asking his questions, but...
\\\
"Thank you for your time, but I shall take my leave now, if that's alright."
Neia was not only quite confused, but once again also startled. What's got the man so spooked like that? At least the sudden movement didn't scare little Ayame...
"Ah, well, I suppose I can't keep you against your will, but that's very abrupt..."
"I understand. My deepest apologies. I... believe I have made a realisation. I'm deeply sorry for my rudeness."
"Oh, it's okay. Well, is this a farewell?"
The man got up as he spoke.
"Yes, I believe so. Farewell, Lady Baraja."
"Farewell."
And with that, Demiurge left and closed the door behind him. The room fell quiet for a time, until a man's voice cut through the silence.
"Huh, that was..."
Satoru had dispelled the magic, allowing Neia's senses to perceive him as he stood in a corner.
"Do you know what happened, darling?"
Her husband shrugged and slowly walked over as he spoke.
"I've no clue, honestly."
"Do you think he somehow sensed you?"
"I can't think of a way that would happen, and so suddenly like that... I should've been outside his field of vision too. Well, I'll talk to him later anyway."
"His answer as to why he wanted to meet was also the same as the one he gave you, huh?"
"Yeah. I've no clue what's going on with him, honestly... hhahhh... what a nutcase."
Satoru had stopped in front of her and pulled out the golden pyramid.
"Oh, and how's my little girl, hm?"
Neia looked down, only to see Ayame looking up at her father with both her eyes and mouth wide open, an expression that lasted as the transformation started. And then, when it was done, the father and daughter exchanged cheery smiles.
"Hey there. It's me, dad."
Ayame laughed happily, legs kicking with excitement. Satoru reached his hand out towards her, their daughter immediately doing her best to hold it close with her own tiny hands. The sight brought Neia great joy.
"I always knew you'd be a great dad, you know?"
"Oh, don't give me so much credit just yet. Still a long way to go until our little girl is an adult, hm?"
"Yeah, yeah."
"And why did you think that anyway? Intuition?"
"It's because of how you've been towards the twins."
"Oh, really? Aura and Mare? It's been a while since you talked to them."
"They already spoke quite highly of you even back when I first met them."
"Huh... That feels like so long ago now."
"Honestly, thinking that you might be very fatherly made me even more attracted to you, and by quite a bit, I think? Well, back then I thought being even more attracted to you was hardly possible… You make it hard for me to keep my eyes off you, ya know?"
Satoru chuckled in a manner that was both happy and sly.
"Oh, don't get any ideas just yet. Leave that for the night."
"So our plans for the evening still apply?"
"Well, I assume Ayame might go back to sleep soon. She's been awake for quite a while now, hasn't she? Hmm, slowly adapting to a more grown-up schedule, are you, sweetheart?"
Satoru spoke in a very sweet tone, softly touching Ayame's tummy, something that got her restless with excitement again, legs resuming their kicking.
"Is it more of that accelerated development?"
"It might be."
At such a vulnerable and important stage, every aspect of Ayame's life was of course carefully scrutinised for any sign of poor health or abnormality. One of the few notable observations made so far was that in some ways, their daughter seemed to be growing up faster, likely some of the very first boons of Satoru's blood manifesting themselves. Neia wondered just how many there would be. Will their daughter grow up to be someone very powerful?
...
Now outside the mansion's gates, Demiurge placed a palm on his forehead as his gaze wandered around the sky.
It was all so simple. Demiurge just smiled bitterly. So, so simple.
He really was an idiot.
But it was a euphoric feeling.
For so long now, Demiurge thought love was disconnected from Lord Ainz's plans, always failing to consider that it could be love which informed those very plans. From the very start, his master was acting out of love. Love towards his guidmates. Love towards the denizens of Nazarick. And eventually, he found love in this world. Well, there might've been many other things Lord Ainz loved, but everything else was motivated by that same love.
The idea that it was that love which drove his master did not even occur to Demiurge until now. It seemed so preposterous to him because of what this would mean for the stability of Lord Ainz's plans. Demiurge had previously thought them unshakeable, his image of a Supreme Being assumed for them a strong will of resolute focus.
But he now knew that love was not an outside corruption of that decisiveness, love was at the core.
And the outsider Neia Baraja had truly reached into that core, shaping it.
Shaping Lord Ainz.
Yes, it was this obvious reality that he was so in denial of until now. Because he was afraid of it. Afraid of the idea that an outsider could change his master at such a deep level.
But knowing this, Neia Baraja's achievement seemed even more monumental. Lord Ainz, knowing this about himself, must have been safeguarding his heart to a great degree to avoid seduction by someone charismatic, but harmful to his other goals.
Ah, and was that why he chose to marry so many women in Nazarick at one point? After having been seduced despite the barriers around his heart, Lord Ainz wished to compare the others to Neia Baraja once those barriers were lowered. And they all failed, even with such an advantage. They were not even made secondary wives, so great was the chasm in charm between them and Lady Neia.
And Demiurge's conversation with her from just now... to give him such a perfect answer, to push him so effectively in the right direction, and out of his deluded denial... She must have said such a thing because she suspected that this might be a gap in Demiurge's understanding. Simply a perfect move on her part. His respect continued to grow, even due to such a brief exchange. No, it was precisely because of how brief the exchange was that its impact on him was so impressive, so indicative of Lady Neia's genius, especially in the interpersonal.
Ah, and was she truly so surprised that he had left? Perhaps it was disappointment, as she likely did not anticipate that this trifling matter was really all that plagued his mind. Demiurge must have just massively devalued what it meant to be one of the greatest minds of Nazarick in her eyes... The demon was an embarrassment, as usual.
Still, his master had previously forgiven many failures as long as they were acted on as an opportunity to learn, and so Demiurge did not feel especially anxious about this specific error of his. The worry was further suppressed by the far more powerful feeling of overcoming an ordeal.
Either way, a prepared apology for wasting Lady Neia's time, embarrassing himself, and overall being a fool was in order.
... ...
As the sunset slowly approached, Neia and Satoru were walking down the increasingly orange-hued hall with a cheery expression, the High Priestess' left hand chilled by her husband's skeletal right. It was not very often, but there were rare occasions where Neia chose to spend her time simply wandering the halls of the mansion, overcome by gratefulness that such a residence belonged to her, gratefulness for such material wealth, for the amazing friends she had, for the health of her daughter, for having such wonderful husband, for how perfect her life was.
Some of that same gratitude seemed to have suddenly taken hold for some reason, and she could not help but make a happy sound that came out as something most akin to a little squeak.
"Hm? Are you happy, my love?"
"I'm very happy, darling."
"Why's that?"
"How could I not be happy living the life you've given me? I'm so happy!"
The High Priestess then practically jumped into Satoru's side, hugging his arm.
"Oh- hey! Careful, this body's the opposite of soft, remember?"
"I love you, darling!"
"I love you too, honey. Just a bit confused about where this is coming from, I suppose."
Neia responded with a chuckle.
"I'm just feeling playful, I guess."
"You're adorable sometimes, you know that?"
She chuckled again, this time with a certain proud satisfaction. Only moments later, they had arrived at their destination, the door to her parents' room. Satoru knocked without hesitation, Neia still clinging to her husband's arm with a large smile. It was Pabel who answered.
"Oh, hey Ainz, hello sweetie. I see you two really can't go five minutes without becoming twisted like rope around each other, huh? Heh, well are you lovebirds ready to go out? Brought the good wine, I hope?"
"We are, and I did, yes."
Pabel and Satoru shared a chuckle.
"We're ready too. Well, at least I am... Come on, Sofia! The sunset won't wait for you."
The voice of Neia's mother responded in a distracted tone.
"One second... here!"
A few loud and hurried footsteps later, Sofia finally came into view.
"Hello, you two!"
After kissing her husband, Sofia took a step out, with Pabel closing the door behind them.
"Hey mom. How was the trip?"
"Oh, pretty much like last time... Well, let's talk about it on the way. Is Ayame doing alright?"
"Very much so. Emma's just so great with her!"
"Ha, that woman seriously deserves another promotion. Well, I don't know what she'd even be promoted to, but you definitely need to make something up!"
The four of them shared a laugh.
... ...
"Hahaha, and the seagull looked so dumb eating bread! That's a people food!"
"What happened next?"
"What? Next? Uhm... I needed to pee."
Back in Neia's bedroom, long after the sun had set, the mistress of the house was probably as drunk as one would get before they started feeling ill and wobbling around with little sense of time or where anything was, and she was using all the great wisdom this state has given her to entertain a more sober Satoru. At the start of the drinking, back when they were all watching the sunset, he was mostly just anxious about Neia having to remove her poison resistance ring for alcohol to have an effect, something that worries him every time, but now he was just happy with how much fun his beloved was having.
"Hm, speaking of pee... I love you, Satoru! I love youuu! Look, look at how much I love yooouu!"
For some reason, Neia said this while pointing at her boobs.
"Oh yeah? Well, I love you even more, sweetheart."
Neia frowned at him, seemingly doing her best to seem scary.
"You don't get it, do you? I used to- hic!"
The High Priestess' speech was interrupted by a hiccup.
"I used to have small boobs, but they grew during the pregnancy! That's what being in love means, having babies from looots of sex!"
"Hm hm. What about kissing, though?"
"Kissing doesn't make babies though, does it?"
"No, but it's what you do when you're in love."
"You do a lot of things when you're in love, but... what was I about to say? Oh, making sex is the most love."
"That's probably true."
Neia nodded vigorously.
"Speaking of speaking... you're so handsome, mister Satoru... I have suuuch a handsome husband! Hehe, I wanna brag to the maids! They'll be sooo jealous when I tell them about how hot my husband is! Mein Liebling!"
"But what if they... what if they get angry? They might spit in your food."
"It's okay, your spit tastes good, so theirs can't be that bad."
Satoru put a finger to his chin. It made sense.
"But hey, mister... since you're so hot... wait, let me get up."
The Prophetess took a bit of time to do so, legs obviously not working all that well. Once finally standing somewhat straight, Neia put her hands to her hips, and adopted the sort of tone she'd use in a speech.
"You! You, you, you! You need to take responsibility for making me lust for you! You need to satisfy my libido now, because it's your fault!"
"Yeah, that's true. I need to make you happy. Remove your clothes, and we'll make some of the good love… good sex."
"Hmm... no! You think you can always just be dominant? That I'll always be begging for you to cum inside? Nuh-uh! Not anymore, mister! It's time for me to take charge again! I don't do it as often as I should, so this time it'll be you be- hic!"
Another hiccup.
"Begging for me to make you feel good! Yeah yeah, that's right! You'll be a good boy tonight!"
"Okay."
"Haha, yeah! See? I'm so good at this! Now go remove your pants and lay on the bed for mommy! Shoo!"
"Yes."
Satoru happily obeyed. Once his top half was off and he was sitting down, Satoru's gaze wandered back to Neia just as she seemed to fall face first onto the sofa while trying to remove her panties.
"Do you need any help, love?"
"Wha? No, I can do that myself!"
It took his wife some time, but she did finally manage. Now completely naked, Neia wobbled over to Satoru and pushed him down.
"Not sitting! Laaayy down! And now..."
The drunk young woman looked down at his already erect penis.
"Ooohh. Satoru's cock... so cool."
Neia knelt down and pushed her face into Satoru's erection, rubbing her cheeks against it.
"Hahhh... I'm so glad I can do this, you know? It was almost three years ago when I- hic! When I fell in love with you, wasn't it? When I was a squire fighting in that awful war... I secretly wanted you to get me the hell out of there, back to your kingdom and just pump loads into me all day while I'd take them happily like the loyal servant I wanted to be, like your personal whore... I was a hooorny teenager, wasn't I?"
"You don't seem any less horny to me now."
Neia pouted and furrowed her brows.
"Maybe I shouldn't let you speak without permission, huh? Huh?! Hm? Yeah? Huh? Well, things have changed now. Tonight, you'll be my little man-whore, you'll belong to me... I'll make you beg for my touch, make you beg for release, Satoru... But don't worry, mommy will be generous..."
Putting a hand on his shaft, she started switching between lovingly kissing both his balls and tip.
"You're only getting harder and harder, huh? Good boy."
After a good deal of time spent doing this, Neia put his tip in her mouth, massaging it with her tongue and coating it with a large amount of saliva. When she was done, Neia spoke with a smug, almost sadistic smile.
"I hope you like edging... I'll make you wa- hic! I'll make you wait a good looonggg while for release…"
