The smell of old ink and papyrus filled the corners of the office, while silence eroded under the weight of my astonishment.
I flipped through the pages in my hands, feeling the rough, cold texture beneath my fingers. "Fool… idiot… the roaring of women…" I muttered inwardly, the words churning in my mind like bitter gall.
I had seen him as nothing more than a lustful animal, a king who had squandered the dignity of his crown between the thighs of concubines, foolish enough to need us to salvage what remained of his crumbling kingdom.
But what lay before me now on this ancient wooden desk defied logic. One week… just one week spent in the halls of his office, and here he was producing a "miracle."
I had mentally prepared for weeks of hard work to clean up the chaos he would leave behind, only to find myself facing a complete "growth plan."
These were not fleeting ideas; the solutions were intricately woven, supported by probability tables, feasibility studies, and charts drawn with confident ink. Each page explained the one before it, analyzing obstacles before they even occurred. Was this that same fool?
This mind rivaled—no, surpassed—the cunning of the greatest thinkers in the kingdom. One does not awaken from a slumber of lust to become a strategic analyst overnight.
Had he been hiding his genius behind a mask of debauchery? Or were there hidden forces, strange rituals, or some form of "revelation" that had descended upon him?
Whatever the reason, I would not let him out of my sight. If this mind was real, then I, Elliot Argasan, would not squander the "goose that lays golden eggs."
"Sirn!" I called into the void coldly.
From the dark corner of the room, behind the heavy velvet curtains, the shadow of a blonde fairy materialized. Sirn, the leader of the intelligence and assassination unit, appeared in her tight, silent leather attire. She knelt on one knee, her head bowed with respect.
"Yes, my lady."
"The report on the king… I want the specific details."
Sirn's throat moved as she swallowed lightly before speaking. "He made love again with his maid a few days ago."
I sighed, leaning back in my chair, its creak breaking the room's stillness. "Nothing new… he's been doing that since he set foot in my palace."
"Indeed… but that's not the important part," Sirn continued, her voice carrying an unusual hint of confusion. "That day, it was the third time he was with her… he pushed her hard against the wall, pinned her from behind, and began…"
I stopped listening for a moment, my mind saying: "He is truly hopeless." But Sirn had not finished.
"And suddenly… I could no longer monitor them. All my skills, all my senses as a sniper and assassin, failed to penetrate the walls of his room. It was as if the room had split away from reality."
My body stiffened. Sirn was a level 30 assassin, specialized in stealth and surveillance. For her to fail like that meant something "abnormal" had occurred.
"And also…" She hesitated, her body beginning to tremble visibly before she fell fully prostrate to the ground. "I'm sorry, my lady… but I can no longer track the king at all. He moves like a ghost—no, worse… as if he does not exist in this reality. Please, punish me for this failure."
I placed my palm over my face, feeling a headache pressing at my temples. "This is becoming complicated… it's no longer just acquired wisdom, but an unknown power."
I rose from behind the desk, my steps echoing across the cold marble floor until I reached the large bed. I lay on my back, placing the back of my right hand on my forehead, trying to process this disturbance. Everything was slipping out of control—even my foolish husband had decided to become a cursed enigma.
"Sirn, leave… and send Shona to me."
The shadow vanished instantly, and silence returned. I waited, my heart beating in an uneven rhythm. I needed to release this tension. An entire week had passed without seeing "my little cat."
Then, faint knocks were heard, weak, like claws scratching against the wooden door. A soft voice, laden with shyness, whispered: "My lady… I'm here."
"Enter," I said without moving.
The door opened very slowly, and Shona stepped in. She was a vision of beauty mixed with submission and gentleness. Her short stature and brown skin were adorned with natural white patterns.
She wore her usual outfit: a tight brown bra that lifted her small breasts, leaving them exposed from below in a provocative way, and short pants wrapped around her waist with thin strings.
Her cat ears atop her short brown hair trembled, and her long tail curled nervously around her leg. Above all, the metallic slave collar around her neck gleamed, reminding both her and me that she belonged to me.
I rose and walked behind her, feeling the clear difference in height—her head barely reached my chest. I embraced her from behind, burying my face in her hair as my hands slipped beneath her bra to squeeze her small, warm breasts.
Shona let out a broken moan, a sound blending fear and pleasure. I leaned close to her ear and whispered against its sensitive cartilage: "Did you miss me?"
"Y-yes, my lady… Shona missed you very much," she replied in a choked voice.
I kissed her ear, my right hand sliding down to press against her pelvis, at that sensitive spot, moving my fingers in slow circles at times, fast at others, while my left hand teased her nipples with calculated roughness.
Her face and ears flushed deep red, her body trembling in my grasp.
"Shona… do they feed you well?"
"Y-yes," she answered, panting.
"And what about the toys? Was the room comfortable this week?"
She nodded as her waist swayed involuntarily with my movements. Then suddenly, I let her go. I grabbed her hand and pulled her toward the bed. Standing before her face to face, I grasped her round backside with both hands, kneading it in smooth vertical and circular motions.
I brought my forehead close to hers until our hot breaths mingled. Shona closed her eyes, her body shaking with every touch. I increased the speed of my hands, lifting them from the bottom of her rear upward, making her jump with each shiver, trying to reach my lips—but I pulled away each time to prolong her sweet torment.
When her mewling reached a peak of pleading, I lifted one hand from her and placed it on her head, pulling her toward me until my lips pressed against hers in a deep kiss, exploring her mouth with my tongue,
while my other hand slipped to her tail. I began massaging the base of it, up and down in rhythmic motions mimicking intercourse, causing her entire body to tense within my embrace.
I immersed myself in the taste of her saliva and the softness of her tongue, while my hand on her tail drove her mad. Suddenly, she let out a loud meow, a cry of mercy mixed with ecstasy. I stopped immediately and slowly pulled my head back.
A thin "bridge" of saliva remained between our lips before it broke and fell onto her chin. I placed my hands on her flushed cheeks and said with all the tenderness I could muster: "Sorry… I couldn't control myself. Was that too much for you?"
She did not respond, only letting out a small, broken meow. I took that as a yes, then looked down, where her small shorts were completely soaked, moisture slowly running down her inner thighs.
"Shona… you've wet yourself."
Her face turned crimson, and she tried to cover herself with her small hands, whispering in embarrassment: "I'm sorry!"
I laughed softly, playing with strands of her hair. "It's fine… it means you love me. I want to see more of this in the future… obedient Shona will do that for me, won't she?"
She nodded rapidly. I turned behind her and seated her on the edge of the bed, then knelt before her between her legs.
"Hey, Shona… will you let me clean you?"
I stuck out my tongue and looked into her green eyes, which widened in shock and embarrassment. She raised the back of her hand to her mouth, averting her gaze, trying to steady her breathing, before opening her mouth to give her answer…
Author's Note:
Hello guys, I'm Ken.
The humble writer behind this humble story.
I wanted to say that I'm proud of reaching chapter nine. I know my pride seems silly when you realize others have reached thousands 😂.
But knowing my lazy self, writing nine chapters without any reaction from anyone—no comments, no ratings 😭—is a big achievement 😎.
I'm definitely happy you made it this far too. I mean, you read 9 chapters from an amateur writer like me and still continued—you should applaud yourself. You're amazing, truly amazing. Take my kisses—yeah, they're gross, I know 🙃.
Anyway, the next chapter will be published next Tuesday or Wednesday, and I wanted to ask you guys: what do you prefer we continue with first?
More scenes of Elliot with Shona, or should we return to "Ria" and see her plan for "Arthur"?
Hit me with your opinions.