"Incomprehension," Havoc said in a falsetto. "I seem to have lost my way."
"We'll straighten you out, honey," the brigand said, laughing coarsely. He advanced on the figure.
"Confusion," the figure said, retreating.
But the brigand lunged and caught her. He whirled her around. The other brigand did not notice that in the process the two joined figures switched identities. The girl became the brigand, and the brigand became the girl. The seeming brigand knocked the resisting girl at the base of the neck, briefly stunning her, and hauled her into the inverted rape position. An invisible gag bound her mouth.
But in reality, it was the brigand being held. Invisible Scent, loving this interaction, came up and hauled down the now invisible trousers. Now the real legs and bottom were as bare as the apparent ones.
The second brigand moved in, unlimbering his ready penis. The seeming girl struggled, making muffled protests, but the man jammed violently in, accustomed to exactly such resistance. "You're one tight bitch," he grunted, thrusting vigorously.
Then the illusion faded. There was Havoc, holding the first brigand inverted, and the second was embedded in him. There were the six maidens, including Scent, applauding. He gave them all a moment to appreciate the situation, then dropped the man. Both brigands fell in a tangle, too surprised and embarrassed to speak.
The machines arrived. They were setting up their recording equipment, to catch a Glamor in the act. That was what they really wanted; the machines did not care about either the brigands or the girls, who were all part of an inactive enclave. Only a few seconds remained; the timing was exquisitely close.
Havoc went to the girls, spreading his arms. They clustered close about him.
He conjured them all to planet Charm. They arrived in Monochrome's suite.
"Question?" she asked, amazed.
"Mistress, we recruited five new bath girls," Scent said. "We knew you'd approve. Havoc selected them."
Monochrome frowned. "Havoc—"
"Jealous?" he inquired. "Sidh can be your personal servant if you wish." He sent Monochrome a mental summary of the situation. "Needless," she said, comprehending. "Girls, you will need a dormitory of your own.
You can staff the king's bath in shifts, so as to be immediately ready at any time. This way, please."
"Actually, they won't need shifts," Scent said. "Or food, or sleep."
They followed her out of the room. Only Sidh and Scent lingered. "Appreciation, Havoc," Sidh said. "We will surely meet again, and impress our endless gratitude on you."
"Agreement," he said. "I feel unclean already."
Sidh followed the others out.
"And I will get you good and dirty," Scent said enthusiastically. "Ravish me messily."
He laughed. He grabbed her and threw her on the bed. He held her wrists with one hand while he tore off her clothes with the other. She squeaked with delight. When he let her wrists go to attend to awkward buttons she did not try to fight him; instead she tore open his trousers. Then she put her arms back over her head, and he pinned them down again. She spread her thighs wide to accommodate his seeking member, in the guise of resistance. In a moment he was ramming her.
"That last rape—what a turn-on," she said as she wriggled. "I barely restrained myself."
"I felt your need," he agreed. "That was my turn-on."
"This mission—a dream come true," she said. "Helping the king, ravished by the king—eternal appreciation."
"You did well, Scent. You really helped. I accomplished my mission, and gained more than I expected. And ravishing you is fun, on occasion." He thrust again, spurting.
"Appreciation most of all for your understanding," she said. "I seldom get to indulge, my way."
"Maybe there will be another mission, some time," he said, kissing her.
"Enthusiasm!"
They finished and Scent departed to clean up. Her time with him was done, at least for this occasion. But she had indeed been a worthy assistant, and a naughtily tempting temporary mistress.
Monochrome returned. "Observation," she said. "You're a mess. You will have to clean up before I embrace you."
"Apology."
"The bath girls are ready, I believe. Treat them courteously; remember, they're new."
"Agreement," he said, heading naked for the bath chamber. He expected to enjoy both the bath and Monochrome's welcome once he was clean.
Chapter 12 Weft
Fifth nerved himself, then knocked on the door. This was an anonymous apartment on the lowest floor of Triumph City, solidly working class. Yet it was where he had been told to go.
It opened. There stood Weft in bra and panties, breathtakingly full fleshed. "Fifth!" she exclaimed. "I thought you would be here in another hour. I'm still getting dressed." She swirled her long blond hair. She had affected the Earth style enhancements, using foundation underwear to squeeze and emphasize her breasts and bottom, and makeup to artificially redden her lips. Such unnecessary exaggeration turned him off.
"Apology," he said, embarrassed. "I must have confused the time. I will return later."
"Oh, come off it," she said, laughing. "You know I saw you coming. I just wanted to flash you." She caught his arm and hauled him inside. "Are you angry?"
"Awkward," he said.
"And you know I'm reading your mind. You don't want to tell me that full fleshed women turn you off."
"Agreement," he said, flushing.
"And for a month you'll have to fake it, because now you know exactly how I am." She paused. "Or do you? Let's be sure." She quickly unsnapped her bra and stepped out of her panties. "This is me, in the flesh. My body owes nothing to foundation garments."
"Agreement," he repeated, wishing she would stop teasing him. He looked away from her, his gaze sweeping over the comfortably appointed room. On a shelf lay a trapezoidal shaped stringed device, which he recognized as her hammer dulcimer. She was a songstress, the same as her mother Gale, and played the same musical instrument.
She was reputed to be the finest singer on the planet.
"I prefer to leave that reputation to mom," she said, answering his thought.
"Understanding." The four older children all worshiped their parents, though in truth all four were stronger Glamors than Havoc and Gale. The one he knew least well was Weft, and he wished she would stop trying to vamp him.
"In a moment," she said. "Now strip."
"Negation."
"Requirement." And suddenly his clothing was gone. "Ha! I do turn you on."
For his penis was standing.
"Your flesh forces me," he said. "But it is not the type I prefer."
"You do not wish sex?"
"Not at this time," he said, knowing she would take him into it regardless.
"Curious thing," she remarked as she stepped up to embrace him. "A man can rape an unwilling woman. But a woman is not supposed to be able to rape an unwilling man. Yet I suspect it is possible."
He stood without responding.
"She could tie him down, tease his member to life, and mount him," she said. "Would that be rape?"
"Uncertainty."
"You are being noncommittal. Why?"
He tried to hold back, but couldn't help himself. He exploded. "You are all Glamors toying with a mortal, manipulating and forcing me. Yes, raping me, with your power I can't oppose. I wish I were home with Flame!"
Weft burst into tears.
Fifth stood there, waiting.
Abruptly the tears faded. "It's not working."
"Agreement," he said grimly.
"Where did I go wrong?"
"No comment."
She showed a flash of ire. "Candor."
He had to say it. "I have been with four Glamor women before you, one of them your mother, all of whom had their way freely with me. You are not as cynical as Red, as good an actress as Voila, as compassionate as Gale, or as honest as Flame. You are wrong for me simply because you are not Flame, and no amount of posturing can change that. Apology for putting you in this position."