Go talk to Miss Smith

Between her body language and calling Miss Smith the “rich bitch from across the hall,” it’s clear that Lia doesn’t like her very much. It’s hard to blame her: you don’t really like the woman either, based on how selfish she was being during the pirate attack. But she’s asking for you, so you might as well see what she wants. Best case scenario, you think, she reveals something about the trial. Time really got away from me these last three days; we’ve already spent more time on this boat than we did in the first two trials combined, and we still don’t know what we’re supposed to be doing. You cross the hall and knock at Smith’s door. Worst case scenario: she’s just calling me over to bitch about something I did. If that happens, I’m going straight back to that bed. I wonder if Lia was watching over me the whole time I was asleep…

“Who’s there?” comes a voice from right behind the door, unmistakably that of the woman you defended in this very hall the other day.

“The new doctor,” you say. “I heard you’ve been asking for me.” Your response is met by quiet shuffling on the other side of the door. After several seconds, the voice rings out again to instruct you to enter. As you’re turning the knob, you pause briefly to consider the possibility that you’re walking into a trap. Why didn’t she open the door herself? What was with that shuffling I heard? These questions put you on your guard as you open the door. New worst case scenario: I get jumped the second I walk in.

Her private room contains identical furnishings to the one granted to your party: a king-sized bed against the back wall, and a desk and chair off to the side. In addition to those things, however, there is an open cabinet filled with elaborate, Victorian-style dresses just like the one you saw her wearing the other day. Laying on the desk is an expensive-looking hand mirror, as well as an entire collection of jewelry pieces and cosmetics. Sitting in the chair is the woman you’re here to see, dressed in a baby blue polonaise. Her long, dark hair is twisted into a bun on the side of her head this time, using a slightly different but just as ostentatious hairpin. She’s watching you with interest as you examine the room.

Okay, you think only after closing the door and taking in the whole room, I didn’t get jumped. Don’t see any poison dart guns or trip wires, either. That’s a good sign.

“Is the room to your liking?” asks Smith, calling your attention back to her. She’s sat facing you with her hands fidgeting in her lap and a smile fidgeting on her face. “Please,” she says, gesturing to the bed, “sit. I’d like to talk to you for a bit.” You do as instructed and set yourself on the bottom edge of her bed, and she turns in the chair to face you again.

“What would you like to talk about, Miss Smith?” you ask. Please tell me about the Water Elemental. Please tell me about the Water Elemental. Please tell me about the Water Elemental.

“Alicia,” she says. “Alicia Smith, daughter of Duke Smith. We were never properly introduced, were we?” She offers her right hand for you to kiss, as if you were a knight and she your queen. You don’t go for the kiss, but the situation does remind you of when the goddess Ithwen offered you her hand as you were being reincarnated. Back then, you grabbed the goddess’s hand and pulled her in for a kiss — a move which backfired when she wasn’t into it, and led to you being branded a Demon Lord. That mistake has made your life immeasurably harder, but in looking back on it you realize you’d do it again in a heartbeat; the primal urge to conquer a woman’s heart is just too irresistible. That urge is speaking to you now. For the first time since you met her, you appreciate Smith’s flawless skin and fantasize about what she might look like underneath that elaborate dress of hers. Blood swells in your loins as you consider what you want to do with the caramel-skinned woman in front of you. You know that making a move on her could backfire, just as it did with Ithwen, and you would blow your chance of getting information about the trial. “You can… call me Alicia, if you’d like,” she says, interrupting your thoughts.

You know you shouldn’t, but your dick wins out over your brain this time.

You grab Alicia’s hand and pull her abruptly towards you. She squeals as she starts falling out of the chair, but you catch her on her way down and pull her right up into your lap. Both of her hands land squarely on your chest, although she puts no **** into pushing you away. Her face ends up only a couple inches from yours, and she looks at you like a deer in headlights. You take full advantage of her petrified state to lock her into a deep, wet kiss. The tension in her body holds strong for several seconds. It mounts higher and higher, until it reaches its breaking point and she melts in your arms. You pull out her hairpin and toss it away, allowing her dark hair to fall in wavy locks down past her shoulders. The floral aroma of her hair mixes with the sweet taste of her lips as you continue to hold her in the kiss.

Then, she comes to her senses a bit. Although she remains held firmly in your lap, you allow her to push her soft hands into your chest until there’s about ten inches of space between your lips and hers. Her eyes flick back and forth between your mouth and your eyes as she struggles to catch her breath. “You… what are… why are you doing this?” she asks in a voice that is equal parts meek and sultry.

This is going way better than it did with the goddess.

“Because I want to,” you say. After watching her cheeks fill with color, you add, “And I think you want it, too.”

“I…” Alicia bites her lip and looks off to the side, pondering for a moment. “This wasn’t supposed to happen,” she says. “We were just going to talk.” The woman in your lap takes a deep breath and sobers her expression. “That day, after you pulled me down to the floor and ordered me to fetch you a potion, I was furious with you. I wanted you hanged for humiliating me like that.” Despite her serious tone, her eyes are still sneaking peeks at your lips, and her hands have relaxed and begun gently prodding at your pectorals. Taking that as a sign that it’s time to change things up, you twist to the side and lay Alicia on her back. Then, you get over the top of her and quickly kiss her once again, meeting very little resistance this time around.

“Do you still want me hanged?” you ask, before claiming one of her breasts with your hand. Her bust is around the same size as Lia’s, although one squeeze is enough for you to know there’s something fishy going on. Even through the fabric of her dress, the flesh underneath doesn’t yield to your fingers as much as it should.

“I… I…” You sit back and wait for her to answer, but she can’t seem to find the words.

“You seem confused,” you say in as smooth a voice as you can pull off. Truth be told, you’re a little confused, yourself. You came over here hoping to learn something, not go down on another NPC in these trials. You hardly know this woman, and she was kind of a bitch when you first met her; at least with Jas, you’d spent a night drinking together before things got kinky. Yet, here you are fondling her tit, and planning to go even further. You want to dominate this woman. You want to see her submit to you, body and soul, and some day, you want the same from Ithwen. Leaning down, you whisper into her ear, “Let me show you what you really want.”