"That sounds great". Acknowledges N’Ïrk with a contemptuous tranquility. "Let’s test how truthful really is your presentation, Saili’Ïckn. «Don’t move»".
The damsel obeys the command, her body is totally still, even her breathing does not cause any noticeable disturbance on her rib cage and clothes.
N’Ïrk closes his fists, and the ethereal blades of The Tyrant’s Grasp make their apparition, hovering above the man’s forearms.
He manipulates the dangerous blades to spin around Saili’Ïckn, tearing the clothes without affecting the damsel’s white skin.
She doesn’t flinch, keeping her gaze fixed on N’Ïrk’s black eyeballs with green irises. Her resolution is remarkable, bordering actual worship, which leaves the young man with a lingering curiosity.
{How much can i pressure her before she snaps?}
The situation started as a light test, but now, N’Ïrk wants to know how far the lady’s subordination goes.
The energetic blades move faster, however, Saili’Ïckn doesn’t weaver, holding steadily her posture, not permitting any kind of change within her.
Then, a quick crossed claw attack cos from N’Ïrk’s hands, shredding the already torn garnts of the lady, leaving the upper body naked. The mammaries are larger than what was initially visible, tempting the young man’s primitive instincts.
Jacket, vest, blouse, bandage and a brassiere are in tatters, turned into small straps of rags that are scattered on the floor.
Still, Saili’Ïckn doesn’t react, firmly standing on her feet, immobile, but not immobilized.
She has deprived herself from all possible hesitation, not showing much reaction, barely blushing, even when N’Ïrk’s hands cup a feel of the soft tissue of the young lady’s big breasts.
{Not Bad. Her resolution is remarkable too}
He gropes Saili’Ïckn with a libidinous touch, trailing the damsel’s nipples, teasing them with twisting pinches that cause a guttural response from the lady’s throat, yet, she withstands, her composure is crumbling, forced to muffle and drown the moaning gasps, but those shaful noises never escape from her mouth".
"Lovely. Go and change, you have 4 minutes to co back, Saili’Ïckn".
She makes a calm nod and rushes to her room. Not for fear, or sha from being seen half naked. But to not delay her performance, and comply with N’Ïrk’s order.
"What about you?". He questions the poor trembling damsel, who skips a beat, almost throwing up half of her organs due to the shock.
She has pink skin, and ssy electric blue hair under a loose Hoodie that leaves her face covered by the shadows. The pants are baggy too, and she doesn’t stop her shaking while talking.
"I-I’m g-good with technology. I understand it quickly, and i can replicate it if i have basic t-tools".
{Reverse Engineering?. That is really good}
"Tell your na?".
"Parlla Sotty".
"You said technology. Parlla. How good are you with gas?. I an Videogas".
"I am good in so of them".
"You compete?".
"Sotis...".
N’Ïrk lowers the hood from Parlla’s head, revealing the damsel has heterochromic eyes like her friend.
"I like obedience, Parlla. If you want to stay. Kiss ".
The damsel cannot think straight. She is way too enraptured by the request, not wasting ti and making her clumsy novice attempt, standing on her tiptoes, and going towards the young man’s lips.
Pala hesitates, closing her eyes, and repenting at the last mont from all her action. Yet, her lips touch above N’Ïrk’s chin, opening her eyelids and almost crying for failing in her task, then blowing up her retreat.
{Her clumsiness is adorable}
"Next ti, keep your eyes open Parlla, so you’re less likely to fail again. Plus. I want you to observe what i am going to turn you into...".
The warning sounds like a wild proclamation, causing sha, embarrassnt and a weird heat in Parlla’s heart.
In that mont, Saili’Ïckn’s hurried footsteps are heard, she approaches fast, needing less than three minutes to return from her task.
"Not bad, both of you will be moving into my Personal Deck. Make your preparations and buy whatever you require. If you need anything else, let know".
N’Ïrk hands 5 Silver Coins to each of the two ladies, letting them alone as he goes to the Floor under the jurisdiction of the Harvester Hát’Thöry.
Reaching for the female’s Office. N’Ïrk sees the door open and enters. Inside the room are present more people aside Hát’Thöry.
Her friends Vörnea, Kûrjhainne and Myrrha are accompanied by other four ladies, from which N’Ïrk recognize one of them, Dyll’Phá Carionni, who is following the order of using the red lipstick that highlights her plump kissable lips.
"Should i co back later, Harvester Hát’Thöry?".
"It is not necessary, Harvester N’Ïrk. But please, close the door and take a seat. I need to disclose and discuss with you sensitive information".
"I understand. Can you be more specific, Harvester Hát’Thöry?. I ca as fast as i could, but i didn’t heard the ssage you sent to . The device misunderstood my command. I probably reply a blabber".
{*Sigh*. I should have asked Parlla, or Evennette about how to use the Communicator, that would have been more feasible than answering on my own, too bad i didn’t think on that}
The stern attitude of Hát’Thöry is swayed away montarily, a kind amused smile is creeping up, turning into a sensuous curve on her aty dark athyst lips. "I listen the ssage, Harvester N’Ïrk, you will get used to how it works".
"That’s a given, Harvester Hát’Thöry. But if you don’t have a problem with it. Drop the «Harvester». N’Ïrk is enough, we have the sa Rank, that makes us equals".
The damsel’s smile turns apologetic, rapidly swapping back to her stern attitude, yet, she has a friendlier aura that wasn’t coveting her gorgeous silhouette a re second ago. "In that case, N’Ïrk. I hope you do the sa and cease the formalities".
"Of course, Hát’Thöry. Now, tell . How can i assist you?".
"I’ll be rude, N’Ïrk. I would like to have your economic support. I am able to eventually pay for my Sponsored subordinates, but right now, it is not a viable choice. Much less with the addition of new mbers under my Command...".
"I have to disagree Hát’Thöry... , Dyll’Phá will join the Fraternity through my Floor"...
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