CHAPTER FIFTEEN
STOLEN DANCE

Wilt's eye twitched.

"An offering." Maeve grinned up at him, spreading a blushing Bella's legs out, her thin wandering hands crawling along Bella's body. "I've prepared her for us…Seduced, is the word?"

Bella looked dazed and barely cognizant, and the smell of sex was pungent within the room. His bed was rumpled and looked damp with all manner of bodily fluids, with Wilt desperately wishing he had some form of washing machine on hand. Getting that out without requiring one of those ribbed washing boards and flowing water, which meant a trek to the ruined aquifers filled with middle-aged judgmental women…

And he was distracting himself.

"Maeve…" He sighed, his own clashing perceptions of life obviously clashing with the elven girl he'd been courting. He wasn't sure what the correct move here was. He was a guy from Earth, and despite fitting in with the murder-hobo cultural subclass that were Adventurers within this world and adapting to Maeve's rather unique hunter-gatherer lifestyle of eating everything she killed; this was a step over his line.

'Did I just get cucked? Maybe? A little? Possibly? We literally just declared ourselves Fiancés of a kind, and then she walks off and gets…an offering. Oh. We declare ourselves lovers, then I speak up about wanting to add someone into that relationship; someone who isn't inside the relationship, and so she goes and gets her. Damn, that initiative is fucking wild. Is this my harem, or is it Maeve's?' Wilt sighed, slumping his shoulders. 'I can't even be angry…'

He was tired and Dungeon-Chan had been getting on his fucking nerves lately. It's been a while since he'd entered the Dungeon, and Yal was begging him to go deeper. Which, yeah, he eventually will; but shit's been moving and grooving the last few weeks and forging an entire suit of armor took time, especially in this economy!

But now that he'd gotten his workshop fitted out, he was in business for some serious work. In later levels Wilt might want to add a smelter for ores…and he was getting off topic.

Y'know, one side of him; the stressed ball of anxiety, and the horny young man that was looking at two wonderfully beautiful women displaying themselves for him desperately wanted to strip off his pants and dive into their sinful forms. There were other voices that said he was tired as fuck, that felt betrayed, but also…glad? Like, normally it'd be the guy who'd need to seduce everyone into the Harem, but here Maeve just went ahead and did it for him. Considering it was Bella, the girl who verifiably went insane inside of the Dungeon to the point of creating several skills surrounding that one experience; that wasn't something that would be challenging, but it was still something.

This was, at its core, an atypical relationship that Wilt hadn't any experience in navigating or shaping. So, instead of acting like a butt-hurt little soy-boy and getting caught up in the semantics of romanticism and 'first times'; he'd take the offering at face value in how Maeve thought it was to be prepared for him.

'It's the thought that counts…'

Wilt sighed and growled in cadence. He reached up and stripped out of his apron, then shucked off his pants. He strode forward, kicking off his boots and then sliding up against Bella. His mouth pressing against her neck, suckling on the now very aware girl; pushing both her and Maeve back into the soft bed.

Bella jolted to awareness at his presence, squeaking and making delightful noises as his hands stroked her nubile body. Pulling her into his lap, he pulled Bella against his body, kissing and nipping at her neck; before he gazed up and met the inflamed face of Maeve who bit her lip watching him. Bella's legs encircled his waist, Cedric's hands falling along her spine to then grip her toned ass; the farm girl was a svelte and thin girl, but she was toned and tight in all the right places.

Cedric didn't truly enjoy the more popular stereotypes of women that many individuals on the internet exalted. Big tits, fat dumpster of an ass; and while he was a hot-blooded man and could get it up when faced with those proportions, especially when they worked with a woman's body type, he had his own tastes.

The girl wrapped around his body and moaning fractured syllables of his name was a bit younger than he'd like, but he could see the proportions, the growing curves, the growth and development that would come through time and hardship. He couldn't help but lick his lips as she pressed his manhood against Bella's lips, cajoling her to grind herself against him. He closed his eyes as he felt her do as his hands and motions coached, eyes rolling up to the back of his head as his pent-up tip was captured by her lips and started to penetrate.

He felt hands circle around his back, and he growled at the somewhat cramped space on the bed; but he'd make it work. He'd need to figure out how to expand the basement, or at least get another home that he could put a big fancy bed within. With canopy drapes, plentiful sheets, bedding; comfortable and decadent-like. Maeve's hands and breasts pressed themselves against his body, and he turned his head to capture her lips.

He felt a flame build inside of himself, and as he eased himself deeper into Bella's depths, feeling himself bottom out with a few inches still left on his cock; a smirk grew.

'The masculine urge to provide; how powerful and robust.' Wilt mused as he started to slowly thrust up into Bella, the girl's hymen broken by his cock, and he felt a warm liquid leak along the shaft still hanging outside the shallow girl. He didn't mind and made sure to be considerate so as to not harm her cervix. He'd have mind-shattering womb-sex with the girl when they were both High Levels, capable of taking the punishment without needing potions.

Pressing Bella into the bed, Wilt rose into a missionary position, lifting his torso to meet the limpet that was his other lover who sat on the edge of the bed.

Pulling Bella's legs up and then bending them back towards her head, Wilt broke the kiss with Meave and pulled the thin girl's waist up with his hands, wrapping both around her waist and nearly touching his thumbs and fingers together as he fit his shoulders against her calves to press her legs back. The new angle allowed him a bit more depth into her warm folds, Wilt controlling everything about the intimate action to not harm the inexperienced girl that was mewling underneath him.

The only voice within this debaucherous mess was that of Maeve, her voice whispered into his ear, chanting within the Old Tongue, speaking to him of children, of mating, of breeding the rabbit underneath him. Wilt liked his lips, breaking the mating press and instead moving up to take the throat and jaw of the tempting seductress in one hand. He man handled the tall and lanky woman into falling over Bella, their uneven proportions only highlighting one-another's exotic traits that had his raging cock deep within Bella's folds twitching for desired release.

Wilt found himself asking questions. His mind was startlingly clear within the intercourse, although he applied that to his Status and Falna; the physical act of sex being less draining and intense with its Stats affecting him and his own tired mindset that saw this as a favor for these two girls than for his own pleasure; because there was a large part of him that just wanted to sleep right now.

He wanted to give them the best time, but he also needed to think of the future; did he want children? Right now, within this time of uncertainty? Each stroke he felt himself coming closer, and he also felt a hardness of determination filling him.

Fucking Bella in missionary while Meave was sandwiched on-top of her, his hands found the elvish woman's folds and their dexterous motions had her singing in short order.

As he fucked a woman and played with another, Wilt started to reflect during mid-coitus. He found it an odd period to do so, but it also separated his mind from nutting right that instance -pent-up as he was, his sexual stamina was jackshit- and began thinking about what he wanted from his life.

He was tied to this city and the Dungeon; he wanted to explore it, wanted to hunt and earn the glory of self-satisfaction. Capable of pointing towards something and saying that he'd earned, done, and accomplished such a goal or task. It was thus that Wilt remembered his conversation with Diogenes; what motivations spurned him in the first place, but now that he was going and moving; it was time to decide on a destination.

In this act, Wilt realized he wasn't doing this for sexual satisfaction, lust, or any thing else other than a desire to make these women feel desired; feel good. It filled his chest with a sense of satisfaction that went far beyond merely sating his own desires and blowing his load in a woman to 'mark' them as his own; the weak possessiveness that other men might feel from having sex with another woman absent from himself.
Instead, Wilt found himself having sex, pleasuring these women, because they mattered to him. Emotionally, he found gratification in having intercourse with them. It wasn't about having sex with two admittedly beautiful women; and while that was there, it wasn't the reason he was fucking Bella into a drooling mess, alternating his cock between two sexes and holding back his release to draw out their pleasure. It wasn't out of his own pride to outlast them, but merely to make this spontaneous night feel more special and satisfying.

Sex to men was often debased as something lesser; where the importance of sex mattered more to women because it was a more personal subject to them as the child-bearer of the species. Wilt found himself finding a new side of this carnal act, seeing it as service to two women he loved; and the possibility of bringing them even closer to his heart through the release of his seed into their wombs.

There was choice here as he fucked Bella into a limp mess, her fluids spraying against his groin and chest; a choice of whether he wanted to fuck a child into these women and forge with them a family and life. Such things were banal and mundane topics, but they were so very magical and important to him at that moment. Gone was the alure of power and magic from his mind; gone were the notions of Leveling Up and becoming a figure of unprecedented strength, achievement, glory, and renown, if only to appease his own inner ego that bordered on an inferiority complex. A sense of self-doubt and lacking confidence that through his experiences within this city and the Dungeon itself have been paved over or rooted out entirely.

The process of becoming a man, held right in front of him; and all its consequences that he knew would fall on his shoulders. As a man, Wilt would care for his wives, pleasure them in all ways, make them feel loved and cared for. He would provide for them in all ways, be their emotional support, a rock to lean on, provide food for their larders, a home that was built for their family to raise children within, a protective scowl and strong sword-arm to protect them at their weakest and to stand by their sides at their collective strongest; to crawl through hell for their needs and wants, to labor, to slave, to grit one's teeth and suffer. All for one's wives, and their children.

These were the concepts that Wilt had conceptualized as a man; these were the concepts, the notions of manhood that his own father a reality away held and indirectly imprinted onto him. As a boy growing into a young man, Wilt had felt so inferior to his own father, incapable of providing anything within those concepts that he unconfident within his character; within himself. It scared him to take those steps, to put in effort to achieve those things; financial security, physical health and capability, the strength and mind to bear down and pick up the bootstraps.

It wasn't about the economy, the political situation of his nation, or any outside force; Wilt knew he held the qualities and potential to reach the same heights of his own father, as a person, but doubt plagued him. Then he died, and he became some type of Garry Sue main character. In place of the questions of competency and capability; now came new doubts, new burdens that plagued his mind.

'Have I earned these women?'

What he had…

Was it just given to him?

Wilt grit his teeth, pressing down at the two women that were babbling nothingness, Maeve's ass bright red, their lower lips leaking, their assholes clenching and unclenching from every scalding touch or stroke.

And his cock flexed, pulsed, Wilt closing his eyes as ropes of semen were deposited within Bella's womb. Then, ripping his cock out of her quim, he sheathed his over-sensitive head into the depths of Maeve. Breathing deeply, he growled deeply, a ripped Maeve off of Bella, the two women were squeezed against each other on the cramped bed. Wilt's chest heaved, and his cock flexed once more.

Bending down, he scooped up Bella's hips and went in for more.

'Didn't matter…' He decided. 'They're mine, and the world will have to pry them from my cold, dead hands.'

Finn took a breath of absolute relief as his foot passed the last step to the surface. He could see the sunlight now, the break of dawn edging over the world and basking Orario's central street in a soft orange and pink glow.

Then he stopped, Bete crashing into his back as he did so. The werewolf growled but paused just the same; trying to see what made Finn do so.

Finn stared at a massive crack along the cobbled streets of Orario, and in the next instant, he kicked off the hard stone of Babel and appeared in the central city-circle that surrounded Babel.

He gazed over the rubble of what was once a great city. The walls were gone. The city was in ruins; he could smell the burnt smoke, the ash, and more. He could hear distant work and construction.

Finn let out an all-suffering groan.

Of course.

Of course!

Just his fucking luck…

Finn took a deep, fortifying breath, turning around to see the rest of the expedition utterly worn out.

The Dungeon had changed.

Finn hadn't a clue what was going on. They felt the tremors down on the fortieth floor. They'd thought that a Juggernaut had spawned. It was decided they'd continue their delve, largely due to the fact that Juggernauts decay after their purpose has been accomplished; and so, spending the extra time to complete their delve would give the thing more time to decay.

With one last sigh, Finn turned back and gazed at the caravan that he'd been spearheading.

Once they'd reached the eighth floor, they'd realized that the Dungeon hasn't spawned a 'mere' Juggernaut. No, that would be too simple, no?

Instead, Finn was instead greeted to confusing and entirely alien environments that had different Monster Spawns, unique features that felt like they belonged on the Deep Floors, and in no way could Finn believe these floors to be the 'High Floors'.

They'd had to leave their supplies to be ferried up by hand on a few of the floors, quite simply due to how expansive the floors had become; along with the rough terrain that many of the floors now sported. It wasn't exactly an unusual occurrence, as they did much the same on deeper floors, storing the bulk of their supplies on 'safe' floors like the 39th and 18th. However, to have to do such a tactic that would usually be reserved for the deep floors was…unsettling.

Finn could wax on about all the changes that the Dungeon made, and he was planning to do just that with his Goddess. However, now that he gazed at the ruins Orario now consisted of, Finn couldn't help but put the Dungeon out of his mind. There were more pressing things at hand than that death pit.

Waving his posse through, Finn assigned leadership of the expedition to Gareth, then took the rest of the Executives with him.

"How horrible." Riveria muttered softly, gazing at buildings she'd once visited, now nothing more than rubble and crumbling architecture.

"I hope the weapon repairs won't be increasing with this devastation." Tiona mumbled, "Ursa is already really expensive; it'd suck to have to shill out even more for those repairs." She grumbled.

Ais perked up at that and frowned deeply at her weapon, a soft sigh leaving the girl as she pouted down at Finn. The Captain sighed, "We'll figure out that later. First, we'll have to see if the Twilight Manor is still standing."

Riveria shook her head, "I'd be surprised if it was rubble. That manor has stood since the foundations of Orario; built by the Hera Familia before it fell into our hands."

Finn felt a bit of tension running through his back fade away, and as the group moved through ruined streets, catching the attention of workers and tradesmen filtering through the city-sized rubble; they eventually came to the slightly askew gates of the Twilight Manor. They were quickly let through and told that Loki expected them, with the Executives walking quickly through the winding and confusing halls of the manor; eventually reaching Loki's central office.

Opening the door, Finn and Riveria felt their jaws drop slightly.

Gone was Loki's usual clothing, and instead she was dressed in a fashion like the Guild Employees. A refined suit, paired with a small, tiny top-hat resting on her head, along with a pair of spectacles fit the woman as she worked methodically through a thick pile of paperwork. She perked up and grinned at the party of Adventurers, her children pausing at the fact that their goddess was doing…

Work.

"Finally! Riveria, you wouldn't happen to have been trained in your nation's tax codes, would you?" The goddess asked with a wicked smile.

Riveria blinked at the odd question, slowly nodding her head.

"Well, get over here and help me work on this mess." Riveria stepped forward instinctually, only for Finn's voice to hold her back midstep.

"Loki, what is…going on?" Finn asked hesitantly.

Loki cocked her head, and a wide grin spread on her face.

"Why, you're looking at the new Treasurer of Orario, superior to the Minister of Commerce and Finance." She giggled, steepling her hands as she leaned forward, "Now, let me catch y'all up on the happenings on the surface."

Finn took in a breath, incapable of holding back the sheer horror and fear that surged down his spine at the reveal. The Palum brought his hands to his face and felt despair take its place.

"Why? Oh, why?"

I've had this chapter basically finished; I wrote the Finn Interlude without a place to really go with it, so I just made it a half-hearted gag joke of Finn's suffering. Then I wanted to expand on the smut from the previous chapter, but realized I wasn't interested or capable of doing so, and couldn't get invested in writing smut that day. So, I wrote WRITE SMUT LATER, before walking off and forgetting about the story.

I've come back, like, eight times trying to write smut for this story; but it was like pulling teeth. I just couldn't do it; so writing this was me sitting down and forcing myself to write without my muse wanting to write smut. Instead, it appears my Muse has been really invested in real-politik, arm-chair philosophy, and masculine motivational internal monologues.

So I wrote a sex-scene that devolved, or evolved, into philosophical introspection somehow; the post-nut clarity off screen was legendary, I'll tell you that.