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Chapter 8 by Admira Admira

What do MegaMax write now?

Rules Rules Rules

First I started a new page: Rules for the Rulebook.

[New Rule: As long as the Writer is holding hands with someone, that person is included in the time stop, and remembers life before any Old Rules were written the same as the Writer.]

"How's that?" I asked.

Max gave me an impish grin and snuggled up to me, wrapping one toned arm around my waist to hold my other hand. "If you wanted to hold hands all you had to do was ask~"

I huffed but didn't push him away.

Soon, we were giggling like schoolgirls, holding hands and cuddling as we came up with Rules New and Old. By mutual agreement, we refrained from writing any super powerful Rules like 'Megan and Max are omnipotent Gods of Earth'. That'd be far too boring and who/whatever dropped the book in front of me probably wouldn't like that very much.

Or maybe they would. That might be worse.

[New Rule: People aware of Old Rules do not experience any discomfort at new memories, they integrate seamlessly, without confusion. Previous memories will slowly fade into the background, but can be recalled with minimum effort when desired.]

"That should prevent any more migraines at least!"

"Yeah, I'd hate to have your exploded brains in my hair." Max mused.

I stared at him. "Ew."

"I know! I don't have the right kind of shampoo for that."

I ignored him.

[New Rule: The current Writer or Writers can always summon a sharp pencil and the Rulebook to their person when in danger.]

[New Rule: The current Writer or Writers can sense when they are about to be in danger of severe or mortal harm several minutes in advance.]

[New Rule: The current Writer or Writers will not be harmed or retroactively deleted by a Rule.]

Brrr. That could have been dangerous.

We sat for a moment in silence. Processing what could happen with a poorly worded Rule.

Max shook himself and grabbed the pencil, pushing my arms aside as he did. "Okay! Back to the fun Rules."

I took his off hand and glared at him as he wrote.

[Old Rule: Men on average have penises between nine and twelve inches in length and six to eight inches in circumference.]

"Max! That's double the old average!" I gasped. Warmth grew between my thighs as I imagined it.

"Good thing I made us extra stretchy huh?" He grinned. "How does my innocent little sister know that?"

"The same reason you do!" I huffed and snatched the pencil back. "I'll show you a fun Rule..."

[Old Rule: When Claiming, the new Claimed will develop natural tattoos in a fitting color and design that matches the Claimer's aesthetic tastes. These tattoos always include a collar design at the neck, it can be a variety of chains, lace, glyphs or even a simple band of solid color. Other marks can include similar designs around the wrists and ankles, a tramp stamp, intricate symbols between the navel and pubic region, or even full body tattoos. Fashion is based on showing off these Claiming Marks. Claimed Women and femboys universally love their Marks, as feelings of contentment and ownership fill them whenever their Claimer touches their Marks.]

I had started breathing more heavily. Max shifted next to me, squeezing my hand. "Yeah, that's a fun Rule." We shared a grin with equally red faces.

We looked up at the cafe again.

More people had come in while we wrote, it was mid afternoon on a Saturday so most tables were full of happy customers. The black guy on the table across from us was gone, replaced by a redheaded young man with a trio of girls draped over him as a MilkyMaid sucked him off. They tittered and stroked the Maid's curly black hair. All of them had intricate tattoos in metallic green at their necks and around their navels.

Almost three-quarters of the non-MilkyMaid women(and femboys) in the cafe had a Mark. From pink roses, azure vines, to gothic lettering in midnight blue, all of them bore them proudly. Often wearing specially tailored clothing that framed each Mark. One petite girl wore nothing but pasties and a thong, covered in swirls of gold that set off her tan skin and ash blonde hair wonderfully as she sat on her futa Claimer's lap, the two of them drinking from a MilkyMaid together.

"Excuse me, is there anything else I can get you two?" A tall black MilkyMaid with many beaded braids in her hair asked. A name tag pinned beneath her heavy bosom listed her as Catherine, the manager and owner of the cafe.

My eyes widened at the sight of her. I half-remembered a tired and worn woman with solid gray hair and skinny limbs, not this walking fertility goddess!

Catherine continued after our stunned silence, voice a flat drawl. "If not, can you please let someone else take your table?" She gave a customer service smile that I knew hid annoyance.

Ah! We'd been here two hours! "I'm so sorry! We got distracted with–" Max elbowed me to stop me from babbling. I felt a weird mixture of irritated and fondness. Must be a sibling thing.

"Yeah! The atmosphere is great, we got lost in studying." He packed up the Rulebook and our bags. Huh, my bag is light blue instead of gray now, still the same brand though. "We'll be right out, sorry for the inconvenience."

The head Maid nodded with a more genuine smile. "It's not a problem, I'm glad you enjoyed our services. Please come again!" Her hooves clacked as she trotted off with a casual wave. Holy shit I can see her sideboob from behind!

My eyes tracked lower to watch her swaying hips and my eyes nearly fell from their sockets they went so wide.

Between the MilkyMaid's luscious thighs, swung an absolutely massive futa-cock. Even while flaccid, it hung almost to her knees, twitching as it brushed the silky fur on her thighs with every step. My own legs went weak at the images that shaft conjured up in my mind.

Another Maid met up with her behind the counter, a small Asian girl with blue streaks in her black hair. The two exchanged a quick kiss, the non-futa Maid going limp as a possessive hand from Catherine stroked the shimmery pink Claiming Mark on her lower back, before reaching down to squeeze a bubbly ass cheek as they separated.

My eyes swept over the other Maids, finding several more swirling pink designs among them. Even Sarah, the blonde from earlier, bore a Mark with pride as she bounced on another cock, the man's own small harem shared occasional sips of her milk amongst themselves when they were able to catch a nipple.

Max laughed at my dazed look and dragged me out of the cafe by my limp hand. I was too distracted by the wonderful sight to be ****.

"C'mon Megan, let's go see the world we've made."

The door clunked open at my brother's push. Behind Max's grinning face, bright sunlight flooded my vision as we stepped into a new world.

What do they find out there?

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