He prepares for the weekend.

Seamus watched Helen move forward with alacrity. She was adjusting her shirt, which up until now he had not noticed was split horizontally just below her breasts, held in place with a row of buttons. Within seconds, she was standing in front of him, the lower half of her shirt and her bra tucked into her purse. She reached into her purse and pulled out a 16" long, 4-in-1 Byzantine-pattern length of 26-gauge chainmail with small O-rings at each end. After carefully laying the chainmail over her left wrist, she additionally pulled out two wrist cuffs, each with two small, heart-shaped padlocks hanging from the D-rings, shackles unlocked. She then knelt before his throne, placed her purse on the ground to her left, gently laid the cuffs and chainmail on the throne next to his right leg, then placed her wrists on his left leg.

Seamus jerked at the touch of the wrist on his leg, his calm façade cracking for a moment as he felt his left hand start hurting. He glared at his white knuckles on the arm of his throne, and forced himself to breathe. Once his knuckles were peach and light red again, he reached down with his right hand to pick up the wrist cuff.

Seamus examined the cuff carefully. It was beautiful. Oh, so achingly beautiful. And equally so obviously hand-made. He ran a fingertip along the grain of the elk hide. The leather was exquisitely stained a dark brown. His finger paused at the latigo lacing along the edge, expertly intertwined with debossed rose, oak, ash, and thorn motifs. He felt the double stitch down the center reinforcing strap, examining the burnished edges and the careful skiving at the hardware points. His fingers circled the edges of the holes in the lockable double buckle. Seamus smiled slightly, flickers of memories of suspending Alice using cuffs not nearly so fine as these flying through his mind.

Flipping the cuff over, Seamus ran his fingers through the deep piles of the fur lining that upon close examination felt like sheep's wool. Finding nothing sharp embedded in the curls, or signs of damage to the lacing, leather, or hardware, he set the first cuff down and repeated his examination with the other cuff.

That cuff too, looked and felt fine. Seamus proceeded to individually pick up and inspect each of the locks, felt through the length of extraordinarily light gold-plated chainmail, giving it a firm tug at both ends, and then finally, he gently cradled Helen's right wrist in his hand and slipped the cuff around it. He had tested the gap between the cuff and her wrist, and was about to lock the cuff in place when he noticed something missing.

"Where are the keys?" Seamus looked around the throne to see if they had dropped.

Helen looked startled and abashed. Then she reached into her purse and pulled out a key and placed it in his hand.

Seamus pulled the lock off the cuff, tested it, and each of the other three locks, and then added the key to his keyring. Finally, he proceeded to lock the cuff on her wrist. Moving slowly, he watched her suck her lower lip into her mouth just a little bit, close her eyes, and press down with her teeth. Helen shivered as the lock audibly clicked, and the small flush in her cheeks deepened to a dark red. Helen's mouth parted slightly, her lip slipping out a bright cherry red, deep indentations in the tissue, her tongue following close behind and leaving the upper lip with a glimmer of moisture as it passed. Her chest rose and fell in short, quick gasps. Seamus watched her throat pulse rapidly.

Seamus gently placed her right wrist down and lifted her left wrist. Her lips stayed parted, her eyes closing and her torso swaying slightly as he added the lock to her left cuff on her wrist. Gently he lowered her left wrist to his leg, and lifted her right wrist again.

The click sounded once more as Seamus locked the o-ring at one end of the chainmail to the d-ring of her cuff. Then, bracing himself, he lifted her shirt, and couldn't help the soft whistle of admiration. Helen's nipples grew tight and tall, the large hoop rings hanging from the smaller rings going through the nipples themselves no longer touching the areola below.

Helen dipped her head and blushed furiously, her hair falling forward and obscuring her face.

"Apologies, Helen. That was unprofessional of me. You have very beautiful jewelry there." Seamus said delicately. Studiously, he kept his eyes on her forehead until she raised her chin.

Helen shook her head swiftly. "It's okay M...Seamus." She sighed. "Seamus, sir, this is awkward. You and I have been intimate before. But in my head, every time I call you by name, it makes me feel weird." Her other hand came up and covered herself a little.

"Why is that?" Seamus asked. He let go of her shirt, but Helen grabbed his hand and drew her shirt back up with it, then let go of his hand.

Helen got a very wry look on her face. "Because I don't know how to handle myself around a King!" She shifted on her knees. "I'm American for crying out loud!" Helen tossed her ponytail over her shoulder and pushed her hair back behind her ears. Her hand started to go down to cover her breasts again but then went down to her side instead.

"And I'm not?" Finally realizing he could do two things at once, Seamus gently threaded the free end of the chainmail through the first large hoop, then started on the second. The process was more difficult than it should have been. With one hand holding her shirt up, the other carefully avoiding touching bare skin, and attempting to avoid pulling or putting undue weight on the hoops as he threaded the chainmail through, he had to make a couple of compromises here and there. But he managed to not touch her bare skin at least. Sure, Seamus remembered having touched her...twenty years ago, but that was twenty years and a wife he hadn't discussed this current situation with ago. "I get it though. Being...this...is new to me too."

Helen nodded and pursed her lips, but kept quiet while Seamus finished threading the chainmail through the next nipple ring.

"Call me what you are comfortable with. If Seamus feels too informal, I can adjust." Seamus smirked and couldn't help but open his mouth and say the next bit. "You could always call me King Malone."

Helen froze, but then responded hesitantly: "Yes, King Malone."

Sighing, Seamus stopped her with a shake of his head, Helen hissing a little as his hand jerked, pulling sharply on the chain: "Sorry. I was joking, Helen. What would you prefer to call me?"

"No problem. Uh..." Helen's voice faded away, then she raised her other wrist for him. Then she blushed furiously.

"No." Seamus said more sharply than he intended. "I've got enough women calling me some form of master, Daddy, or something else."

Helen jerked back, her blush disappearing and a look of shame crossing her face as she suddenly hunched over, her shoulders forward far enough that Seamus didn't have to extend his hand to avoid pulling at her nipples, her arms coming up to cover herself.

Seamus grimaced and let go of her shirt, but again Helen's hand shot up, grabbed his hand and lifted her shirt up with it again, more slowly this time. 'Good one Seamus. Berate the poor woman while she is in front of you, feeling vulnerable and you are in the middle of a scene.' "I'm sorry Helen." He sighed. "My last few days...are not your fault. Forgive me?"

Helen was still hunched over, but her arms were slowly sliding back, revealing her body again. "Of course, Your Majesty."

Seamus winced. "You don't have to, that wasn't an order. You don't need to forgive me if you don't feel like it."

"I understand, Your Majesty." Helen said, slowly uncurling herself, and returning carefully to her former position.

Seamus winced again, his arms feeling stiff and wooden, frustration with himself causing his wings to unfurl and snap out to their full extension before folding up again behind his back.

Helen jerked and hissed as she pulled back too far before Seamus let go of the chainmail, but again, Helen grabbed his hand and returned it to the chainmail.

Seamus slumped in his throne. "I apologize, Helen. I was wrong." Rigidly, he forced his wings and tail to hold their place behind him and he stilled his body to as small of movements as possible.

Helen's eyes lifted to him. Searching his face. "You're older than you were. But you are still the kind, wonderful man I fe...knew before. Too full of guilt and shame by half." Her muscles relaxed, and she eased forward. She took the hand holding the end of the chainmail and placed it on her breast. "I know you are married. I also know we...I don't have time for you to guilt-spiral. I forgive you. Please, Your Majesty. Finish." This time, she used the honorific gently.

Seamus looked at her searchingly, nodded, and proceeded to thread the shackle through the D-ring of the left wrist cuff and the o-ring at the other end of chainmail. He hesitated and looked her over quickly. Helen steadily looked back at him, the blush returning, but a forgiving calmness and acceptance in her eyes that helped, although there was something else she was hiding that he couldn't see...yet. He looked down on the floor and saw the end of her raccoon tail twitch and swiftly disappear out of sight behind her back.

Seamus felt the reverberation and saw her shudder as the lock clicked home.

Carefully letting go of her wrist and double-checking the chainmail, Seamus was concerned that Helen was going to have to keep both arms bent at the elbows the entire weekend. Even if one wrist pushed the two breasts tight together, there simply wasn't enough length to the chain to allow full extension of either arm. He winced again. He knew at some point he had selected this from the app. But why had he done this? Being an 18- or 19-year-old horny male college student wasn't nearly a good enough excuse. "I'm sorry Helen." He repeated.

Her eyebrows rose a little. "I forgave you, Seamus. It's done." Helen said.

"No. For this. For doing this twenty years ago. For choosing...this. I don't care how young or horny I was. I chose something dangerous, irresponsible, self-centered,..." Seamus was grinding his teeth and winding himself up when Helen interrupted.

"Stop, Your Majesty." Helen shrugged and grinned. "I got used to it." Helen paused, some flicker crossing her face. "Many were the pizza delivery drivers that got an unusual tip before I got around to modifying my shirts." She looked down at Seamus's watch. "And you got this done in time." Moving carefully, she raised her hands and pulled the hem of her shirt down over her breasts, hiding the chainmail and part of her hands. She then slowly bent over, picked up her purse and straightened back up again. She looked around the room at the guards and blushed again.

Helen shrugged again and smiled slightly, her right foot sliding along her left calf. "Besides, it made me appreciate being able to do things during the week more. I actually get more done now each week than I did before I had this setup." She smiled wider. "But I will admit, it does feel weird, going from being ten years older than you to ten years younger than you."

Helen leaned in close and whispered. "And I'm pretty certain you enjoyed these breasts more than anyone else I've ever been with." She searched his face, and something softened in her eyes, a tenseness that had been there dissipated.

Seamus frowned.

Helen leaned further forward and kissed a startled Seamus on the mouth before sinking back on her heels. "You made me feel alive. I'd thrown myself into work, assisted the team, and devoted zero time to my personal life." She stretched her arms a little, lifting one wrist and pushing forward first with one wrist, then the other, the chainmail clinking as it slid back and forth through the hoops.

Taking a deep breath, Helen rocked forward a little, then rocked back on her heels and carefully balanced before standing. "Do you have any idea how good I've gotten at teaching the girls how to balance since I've had to do this every weekend?" She pointed with both forefingers under her shirt. "Think back. What happened after you met Alice and you came to talk with me?"

Seamus sat back in his throne and thought hard. "I said I loved Alice and told you the whole story about the app. And that I regretted what I had done."

"And I told you that I didn't regret a single second of it. Right?" Helen asked.

Seamus searched her face and eyes for something. "Then why do you still seem so embarrassed if you don't regret any of it?"

Helen shrugged. "What can I say, I get off on humiliation and embarrassment." She blushed again. "You gave me a wonderful outlet to play with. And you still do. Now, you have a promise to keep to those two girls, if I'm understanding it correctly, and while I would definitely get off on being...required to stand here possibly accidentally exposing myself, right now I have no way to physically gratify myself...easily...so I'm going to go if that is all right with you...my lord?" Helen suddenly smiled. "Ah! I like that one." She curtsied again, this time not lifting her skirt.

Seamus chuckled ruefully and sighed. "Yes. Go..." a pause as she turned and started toward the door, "...you dirty girl." The words escaped his mouth despite his valiant attempt to stop them, but the sudden flush in her neck and hitch in her step told him it was exactly what she had wanted before Helen finished dashing, carefully, out of the room, her hands carefully cupping her bouncing breasts.

"Okay, Samantha, Mandy, come on over and let's have that talk." Seamus looked down at the shirts still sitting on the throne on his left side and wished he could give them back, but given past experience knew it would just create more problems.

The twins stood in front of the throne, and this time, Seamus thought the discussion might have been better in a dining room or something, but after looking at their faces, he realized swiftly that no room was going to make this talk any easier to get through.

Seamus took a deep breath, and began. "Both of you got randomly added to a group of women called Custom Girls by an app on my watch. I would remove you both if I could, but my currency cap to accomplish that isn't high enough as of yet. And gaining increases to that cap requires adding changes to my existing Custom Girls, adding more Custom Girls, or..." Seamus cleared his throat, "...having intimate relations with my Custom Girls."

Both Samantha and Mandy looked at each other in alarm, Samantha stepping back a half step before freezing in place.

"No. I don't intend on that." Seamus shot that last concept down immediately. "I don't believe in...relations...outside of marriage." He spoke the next words under his breath. "I already have enough wives to take care of as it is." Back to full volume: "But, the only way I can remove you from my app is to give you another app called Gem Ladies, of which I know little about."

Seamus paused, considered, then, looking over their shoulders, he asked: "Sireah. What is and/or does Gem Ladies do?"

Sireah responded: "It is another app similar to Custom Girls, Your Majesty, designed to maximize Erogen production. They must play at least one game each day, if not more, and if they lose a game, they must choose one punishment from a list of three options." Her tail swirled around in a lazy s.

Seamus frowned and leaned forward. "Okay. What if they win? Is there any way for them to be free of that game?"

Sireah shook her head. "No, Your Majesty. Winning removes punishments, grants boons, but the app code was still developed based on the original source curse from Lucifer."

Seamus drummed his fingertips on the arm of his throne. That shot multiple of his long-term plans in the foot. "Okay. So, what you are saying is that right now, I choose what gets added to their list. If they are added to the Gem Ladies app, the changes are random and they likely get more each day?"

Sireah nodded. "Yes, Your Majesty."

"Darn it." Seamus ground his teeth and growled menacingly under his breath. "I have someone else's fiance I need to get rid of!" His fingers drummed louder and faster, then slowed.

Seamus looked back at Samantha and Mandy, who were looking at him very confused, and was about to continue when Sireah added something else.

"Also, right now they are under your sovereignty, Your Majesty. If they go on Gem Ladies, and then subsequently don't choose to also swear fealty to you, your sovereignty no longer applies to them." Sireah bowed shortly and backed up again against the wall.

Samantha reached up, and drew a small lock of hair into her mouth and started chewing, one hand jerking as she smoothed her already smooth skirt. Then both hands flew back to her chest and covered her bra again, her hair still in her mouth, moving madly as she chewed furiously.

"Why would we want to be under your sovereignty, Mr. Malone?" Mandy asked. Her fists were on her hips and she glared at Seamus.

"Good question, Mandy. Sireah?" Seamus asked.

"Your sovereignty also means your protection, Your Majesty." Sireah advised. And then she pointedly looked at a few of the guards in the room, the number of which Seamus just now realized were slightly higher than his usual contingent. There were a couple of unfamiliar faces and...they were wearing slightly different corsets and panties than the guards he was used to seeing... Seamus shook himself and dragged his attention away from cataloging the different colors, materials, lacing, and sigil designs to get back to the problem at hand.

"Okay, so, partial protection from Lucifer's attacks, then. That is one reason." Seamus offered, looking Mandy in the eyes, but occasionally glanced over at Samantha, who was still chewing on her hair.

Mandy looked hard at him. "Attacks we wouldn't be suffering if we weren't under your control in the first place, Mr. Malone."

Samantha dropped the lock of hair from her mouth and looked wide eyed at Mandy, shaking her head, her hair flying with the wildness of her movement.

Seamus quirked an eyebrow at Mandy. "You really think Lucifer wouldn't attack you if you weren't connected to me?"

Mandy opened her mouth swiftly to reply and then slumped, her mouth closing as her hands briefly rubbing at her bare sides, slight goosebumps on her skin. "No...I don't think that." Now it was her turn to sigh. "I just don't know what to think right now. Except I was in the grocery store one day, and all of a sudden I had pain in my jeans from a tail I didn't have before I left the house. A pain that didn't go away until I half dropped my pants in the middle of the grocery store!"

Seamus winced. And was about to say something when Samantha spoke up.

"Sis...Mr. Malone has always been kind to us. Always opened his home whenever we needed. He nearly never remembers us, but always has a ready smile, offers frozen custard or a cup of gumbo or jambalaya when we look down. Remember a couple of years ago when your car broke down?" Samantha placed her hand on Mandy's arm.

Mandy dropped her fists from her hips, her eyes switching to look at her sister. "Yeah, yeah. I do. I still haven't paid him back for that." Her eyes flicked back to Seamus. "Thank you for that by the way."

"And I don't expect you to. Don't use that as a reason in this discussion, please." Seamus stated.

Mandy glared at him. "I will if I want to, Mr. Malone." She sighed and curled a lock of hair with a finger as she thought hard. "I do owe you. A lot. But I get what you mean."

Seamus drummed his fingers on his throne, and said carefully. "If I declare all past perceived social debts prior to the onset of the app in your lives are null and void..."

Wide eyes from Mandy stopped him. "Mr. Malone, please don't. Something feels...wrong about that." Her hands moved to her bra straps and slid down the straps. "I don't think you can just declare that. Not without something else taking its place."

Seamus gritted his teeth. 'Why couldn't it have been that easy?' "Sireah?"

Sireah stepped forward again, frowning. "This isn't app related, Your Majesty. It might be sovereignty related...but..." Her wings spread wide, and her eyes looked him over.

Na dropped from a shadow above one of the columns behind the throne to land by Seamus.

Mandy and Samantha both took a swift step back as Na stalked over the arm of the throne, her body stretching long and sinuously, her tail straight back with the tip curled and vibrating furiously. Na smelled Seamus's cheek, licked his neck, and then crawled into his lap and peered into his eyes. "My liege. Something smells...different...old...familiar...I wonder..." A puff of black smoke and she vanished from his lap.

Seamus felt his eyes widen as for the second time today, Na had neglected to find a hidden place before disappearing.

A moment later, the black smoke appeared again beside the throne, this time accompanied by a white flash of light and Na appeared again, accompanied by Nazps-Odo, who looked startled, and extremely discomfited.

Na turned to look at Nazps-Odo and said: "Is it?"

Nazps-Odo was silent, not moving, her lips moving soundlessly. Awe filled her face. Tears flowed down her cheeks. A brilliant white flash filled the room again as she disappeared out of the room again.

Every part of Na froze from tip to tail, a scent of vetiver, rosemary, and frankincense sharply filling the air.

Seamus sniffed, frowned...questioning the smells...questioning why Nazps-Odo had...

"Mr. Malone?"

Wait-

"Are you okay?"

A sudden chill ran through him.

"Sireah, what's the matter with Mr. Malone?"

Tears...awe...A brief memory repeated in his mind: Lucifer disappearing again...and again...and again from a battlefield, his cold eyes erased in a spark, in a...

"I don't know, Mandy."

...white...

"Infernal chains. I'm here...I'm he...honeybear?"

"Mrs. Malone, what's happened to Mr. Malone?"

...flash?