Take Adella into the hallway

Looking once more at Windermere, Stewart can see that the little man’s smile has waned, and his glassy eyes are staring vacantly into the distance. His hand continues to stroke furiously, and now his hips have begun to gyrate, as well. Aside from fact that he is obviously jerking off, from the right angle it might appear that the loincloth-clad man was simply making a very bad attempt at a modern dance move.

“Trust me, sister, Windermere can get to where he is going on his own at this point,” he says, taking her by the arm and leading her away from the little man. Reluctantly she follows, leaving Windermere’s beard reaching toward her, pathetically gesturing for her return.

They step out of the ballroom and into the privacy of the hallway. Adella looks doubtful.

“I feel bad about just walking away from Windermere,” she says. “He seemed most intent on me remaining with him. I don’t know what he wanted to tell me, but it seemed very urgent to him, because he kept saying, ‘Almost there... Real close... I’m going to.....,’ but he didn’t seem to be able to finish sentences there at the end.”

Stewart gives his sister a grim smile. “I suspect that in your enthusiasm to learn about this culture, you may have been too quick to divorce all sexual references from actual sex.”

She considers this for a moment, and her face turns bright red. “Oh my goodness! You’re not saying he was actually —?”

Stewart nods. “Let’s just say that since we are barefoot, we may want to watch where we step when we go back in there. I suspect the floor may be a bit slippery by the time we return.”

This is evidently a new revelation for Adella, whose face turns bright red as she replays the last several minutes’ worth of interaction with Windermere through a new filter.

As she takes this all in, Stewart finds himself once again distracted by the sight of his sister’s near-naked form. She is standing so close to him that he can feel her body’s heat emanating from her soft, seductive form. He feels his cock stirring once more, this time with a vigor that surprises him. Not wanting to get himself worked up again over such a sight, he forces his eyes to her face and speaks.

“So what did you find out? I’d really like to know how to deal with the fact that in my first foray in the diplomatic field, I may have succeeded in getting my host’s wife pregnant.”

Adella’s face instantly changes from embarassed bemusement to earnest excitement. “Oh, it’s so fascinating, Stewart! As we already knew, they are quite a bit more open and less — shall we say, prudish? — about sexual gratification. You would suspect that this would create a rampant population explosion or, at the very least, extremely complicated family trees.”

Stewart nods. “That’s an understatement. It’s bad enough keeping track of who’s related to whom among the houses of the nobility. Lord Yonglong, alone, is said to have over a dozen bastard children divided among the wives of most of my top advisors.”

“Well,” Adella explains, “It’s all very fascinating how they avoid that problem here. They call it ‘Daisy Chain Birth Control.’”

“Daisy chain? You mean they use flowers to suppress conception?”

“Not exactly.... You see, although everyone here is considered ‘Nymphite,’ that only refers broadly to the culture. There are a number of different species that all under that broad umbrella.”

Stewart nods. He had already seen that in terms of the way Althesire is part fox, while his Tonia is part tiger. Beyond that, he had seen the women who appeared to be somehow descended from trees, as well as any number of other species and cross-species.

“Well,” continues the princess, “for the most part, two different species rarely have difficulty conceiving a child between them.”

“Great,” says Stewart, feeling his heart sink. “When word gets around that I have sired a tiger cub, it not only will bring an end to my reign, but possibly the end of my life!”

“But wait,” interrupts Adella. “That’s where the Daisy Chain thing comes in. Evidently every species has a neutralizing counterpart, in terms of fertility. I learned, for example, that it’s not only impossible for an elf and a Pegasus to conceive a child, but if such a sexual pairing were to take place, each of the participants — the elf and a winged horse — would each remain infertile themselves for 2-4 weeks after intercourse.”

Stewart shakes his head. “Wait a minute... You lost me at the part about an elf and Pegasus getting it on. I’m having trouble even picturing that. Is the elf the male or the female?”

Adella looks impatient. “That doesn’t matter. Either way, they will each remain unable to reproduce after such a coupling for a period of time. Those who wish to practice birth control make a point of having periodic intercourse with the fertility-negating species, and then they are free to make love to whomever they want, without fear of producing an offspring.”

“So everyone has to find a winged horse to screw every couple of weeks?” Stewart is still having difficulty getting the pictures out of his mind of a tiny elf, valiantly clinging to a winged horse’s tail, desperately trying to bang his little pecker into a horse vagina, or — even more bizarre — a female elf getting hideously stuffed by a horse cock that is nearly the size of the elf’s body.

“No,” replies his sister. “It’s only elves and Pegasi who are negating species to each other. Every species has a different one. That’s why it is common for each person to declare the species he or she has been intimate with in recent weeks. That way the other participant knows whether there is a risk of pregnancy.”

Stewart scratches his head. “Wait... Could that be what Tonia was talking about when she was babbling on? Something about a water nymph blowing a load on a mermaid or something or other?”

“Yes, I’m sure that was it,” says Adella, excitedly. “Do you remember what she said? This could be important.”

Stewart’s brain tries to recall the screwy attempt at conversation. His brain wasn’t exactly in the most contemplative position at that moment, with the post-orgasmic endorphins still surging through his veins.

“I think she said something about a mermaid, a water nymph, and possibly a dwarf. Or maybe it was a lepruchaun with a dildo.... That sort of rings a bell. I really wasn’t paying that close of attention.”

Adella’s face falls. “So nothing about a Ciguapa?”

At that, Stewart grows rigid. He looks intensely at his sister. “Why do you ask that?”

“Because a Ciguapa is the neutralizing species for Tonia. If she had sex with a Ciguapa within the past couple of weeks, there’s no way you could have gotten her pregnant.”

Stewart mentally counts the time since he was last with Chantelle. “Or if I had been with a Ciguapa,” he suggests.

She dismisses his suggestion with a wave. “Yeah, right... In case you didn’t know, the female Ciguapas have a tendency to flay the skin off of humans and eat their skinless bodies alive. I think it would be pretty evident if you had gotten that close to one of them.”

Stewart ponders her words, wondering if this would be the right time to tell his sister about Chantelle. They had really grown much closer to each other since setting out on this mission, but even still, he wondered how she would take to the news that he has been sharing his bed with a Ciguapa — and under the same roof as her.

“Are you sure she didn’t say anything about a Ciguapa?” she asks. “Because if not, the only sure-fire way to make sure she doesn’t end up giving birth to your heir is for her to have sex with a Ciguapa right away — before she can conceive.”

“Or for me to have sex with a female Ciguapa,” Stewart offers.

Adella rolls her eyes. “I thought Father had explained the birds and the bees to you. It’s too late for you to do anything; you already did enough. Your seed is already inside her. It is what needs to be neutralized. Besides, didn’t you hear me about the dangers of the female Ciguapas? Or do you have a bit of a sado-masochist in you?”

“I’m positive she didn’t say anything about a Ciguapa,” replies Stewart. “I’m pretty sure I would have remembered that if she had. No... it was just the mermaid, water nymph, and dwarf... And — oh wait — it wasn’t a dildo; it was a unicorn. I remember that now.”

Adella looks at her brother sternly. “Unicorn? Are you certain she said unicorn?”

Stewart thinks. “Yes, I’m sure. That’s where I got the notion of ‘dildo,’ but it was a unicorn’s horn that I was picturing.”

He looks at his sister’s worried expression. “Is something wrong?”

“Well,” she says, cautiously, “another reason they announce their recent sexual partners is because some species are also have some strong allergic reactions to other species. It just so happens that unicorns and humans do not mix together well.”

“What does that mean?”

“I’m not sure,” admits Adella. “But it could be extremely serious. I think I need to talk to Windermere some more. He is an apothecary, after all, and would likely know the specifics.”

Adella’s words filled Stewart with enough concern that for the first time since being alone with her, he is not distracted by her bare breasts. The same cannot be said of his cock, however, which continues to twitch steadily toward a full erection, even without the prodding of the perverted side of Stewart’s imagination. He absently tugs on his loincloth flap, attempting to hide the evidence.

“Let us return to the ballroom,” says Adella. “I will speak with Windermere and find out what this means for you. I would suggest that you discretely inquire about any male Ciguapas who happen to be around and see if you can use your legendary charm to direct him to bed with Tonia.”

Again Stewart wonders whether he should bring up the subject of Chantelle. It would, at the very least, allow them to focus on the unicorn allergy situation. On the other hand, if there happened to be a way for him to get Tonia to hook up with a Ciguapa, that would buy him time to figure out a more opportune time and manner in which to break the news about his girlfriend.