Making Myself At Home; Meet The Stocktons.

Within moments of landing I was greeted by my butler, head-maid, and footman, David Stockton, his wife Carolyn, and their eldest son Jacob stood attentively in their crisp livery. Rolnin had retained David and Carolyn’s service over twenty years ago. Like many elven royals studying abroad in a purhume city, Rolnin had wanted to retain purhume servants, Being traditional, Rolnin had made it a requirement that only a married couple could apply for the thirty year contracts. The couple were proud, well trained, and exceedingly loyal to their duties and their four children. Jacob worked zealously for the elven royal he had known for as long as he could remember, the same elven royal who’s good graces would be required if Jacob hoped to have the sorts of prestigious positions he had been raised to desire.

“You are home early, my lord.” David said as he moved to take my coat.

“The evening took some strange turns.” I said to the elderly gentleman who seemed to retain both the suppleness of willow and the hardiness of oak despite being in his 60s. His wife, a woman over twenty years his junior, maintained her milfiness which was accentuated by the maid uniform she was obliged to wear. “Have Gonilna’s pictures removed from my heart-shrine.” I commanded as I looked around to take in the enormity of this penthouse. The balcony alone was bigger than my last apartment.

“Very good sir. Shall I have these bitches taken to The Dip for their breaking in?” David asked looking at Barla and Talana. Though Talana was confused by the question, Barla looked suddenly terrified and instinctively clung to my arm as Rolnin’s memories of watching slaves getting **** by slimes as a ‘welcome to the rest of your life’ ritual integrated themselves into my core. “Absolutely not. Have the cook prepare something for my new concubines, then have the cleaning bitches prepare the harem-room for Barla and Talana.” I said.

“Concubines, sir?” David asked with a hint of incredulity. “At once. Sir.” David said. His tone indicated that the purhume was pleasantly surprised. “Your evening must have been very strange indeed.” The butler said as he finished hanging my coat and delegating work towards the adjinn slaves. Talana and Barla followed a bunny girl towards the kitchen. I noticed Jacob’s gaze linger on the three females no differently than I was. “Sir, you recall that you gave Miranda permission to have her friend spend the evening. Ms. Zoe Cranston and Miranda have sworn to confine themselves to Miranda’s room.” There was the sound of an explosion, the wall hangings shook. “Katrina and Steven have their jian-xian tournament in a few days. I told the twins that they could practice but I will inform them that their lord has returned and that their sparring is disturbing him.” David said as he moved towards the stairs.

I placed my hand on the butler’s shoulder. “There is no need. Let them practice, it is not that disturbing. In fact, tell me David, when was the last time you and Mrs. Stockton had a night off?” I asked the man as I reached into my pocket and began replicating a wad of crisp banknotes.

“Three years ago, you gave us the night off to celebrate the twins getting accepted into Fordhart’s SOTC program.”

“Take the night off, both of you.” I said counting out 50,000-coin notes and handing them to the old man who had put up with a lot of crap from the original Rolnin. “I am sure Jacob can handle things. Go see a show, or get some fresh mershimi, or maybe check out that new exhibit at the ancient history museum. Just enjoy yourselves for once.” I said with a smile.

“Sir, is everything alright?” David asked me.

“Yes. I can tell you all about it tomorrow, but for now, just go and make your wife happy. In fact…” I handed my butler a few more notes, more than his normal monthly salary. “...Get yourselves a room somewhere fancy.”

“Yes My Lord. Thank you, My Lord.” David said. It did not take long for the man and his wife to change into their finest street clothing and leave via the private elevator.

I found Talana and Barla kneeling on the ground at miniature tables which sat on either side of Rolnin’s seat at the dining room table. The pair were eating enthusiastically what looked to me like a poke bowl. The pair acted as if it was gourmet cuisine.

“I never thought I would eat real food again.” Talana said. “After two days of **** chow I thought I was going to be sick.”

“This is the tastiest thing I have ever eaten.” Barla said. “The only times I have had food that was not **** chow were the times I was put on garbage duty.” The orc woman said.

“When you have had your fill, the maids will escort you to your chambers. You might want to take a shower.” I suggested.

“““Yes. Master.””” They said.

“Jacob.” I called out. Within moments the footman was standing ready. “Tonight, you are to attend to Ms. Barla and Ms. Talana’s every need. Serve them as you would serve me. Treat their orders as if they come from my own mouth. They are going to evaluate you and depending on how well you please them, there may be a seal of recommendation in your future.” I said dangling the biggest carrot Rolnin could think of. A seal of recommendation from a member of the Canadshu would let Jacob have his pick of service positions. It was a fast track to his own promotion to butler and the wife that would come with the position.

“Yes sir. Of course sir.” Jacob said enthusiastically. “Your concubines will want for nothing.”

“Attaboy.” I said leaving him to take care of my women while I explored my new home.

Rolnin had over a dozen slaves living on this property alone. While it occurred to me to **** them all to uproot and move to my domain, that seemed harsh and at this point unnecessary. They were living under my roof, I could take care of them well enough. Besides, being waited on by my own emanations felt…off. Like the difference between fucking and jerking off. You cum either way, but when someone else is serving you it feels better than what is essentially serving yourself. So, for now, let the slaves continue on assuming nothing had changed. With one categorical exception.

I meandered through the many rooms of the penthouse. Stopped and looked into the haunting eyes of the slaves that Rolnin had hooked into the penitentators, devices which transformed people into silent flesh puppets which danced for any and all who passed by. Those slaves connected to the machines had all their biological functions taken care of so that the slaves can watch, listen, and feel the world around them, unable to control their own bodies as they move to the endless music with **** being the only rest they had to look forward to. One by one, I replaced them with emanations, sending the slaves to the safety of my domain. A few of them were too far gone and those that did survive being disconnected from their prisons were traumatized beyond any expectation of recovery.

As I teleported away the last of the victims of the penitentators I smelled something. It was faint. No human or elf would have picked up on the intoxicating aroma, but my nephilim senses were second only to the gods themselves. Rolnin recognized the smell of Devil-grass. A controlled substance which was illegal for purhumes to consume and was considered sacrilegious among devout Arthorians like Rolnin was. I followed the smell towards Miranda’s bedroom. I could hear the two nineteen year old girls talking about which boys in their class they thought were the cutest and which of the girls were going to get offered positions on The Elven Isles after they graduate.

On the other side of the hallway a loud bang came from the opposite Katrina and Steven’s room. The two were pushing themselves to the limit. The twenty two year old boy and girl had grown up on their father’s stories of his time as a special operator, the elite purhume soldiers who formed the backbone of The Alliance military. The pair had lived in the shadow of their dad’s accomplishments during the last Maho-war and The Great Storm Surge. Their desire to live up to David’s legacy drove them to train to be the best at whatever they put their minds to, which in this case was a kind of full spell casting duel with fencing.

One thing about Rolnin, for all his perversion, sadism, arrogance, narcissism, and myopic self-importance, the man was a devout Arthorian who believed that the only time it was appropriate for an elf to have carnal knowledge of a purhume was within the confines of the sacrament of marriage. I had no such moral hangups and when I used Rolnin’s memories to put faces to the names Katrina, Steven, and Miranda I saw three fine, sexy nubiles who had been raised to revere their lord as an almost godlike figure who remained unchanging as they grew up and their parents grew old.

I was going to fuck them, more importantly, I was going to fuck with them. The only question was, who should I fuck with first?