Linhart spent the next few days developing his relationships and consolidating power over his girls. From morning to evening, he bounced from course to course, petting, flirting, and sometimes doing more with his favorites at the Academy. He had decided, since he was still developing his harem, he would focus completely on the freshman Fighters.
His reasons were simple enough. The hungry seniors who ran the lessons were often lewd and commanding, while the juniors who challenged him to fight everyday were playful but intimidating. So he kept his eyes on the lowest hanging fruit; the freshmen who were young and inexperienced. They were the ones he could easily mold into his ideal harem.
He would start every day at Anatomy 101, where Serapha and Giselle had formed a truce in which they shared him. The two sexy girls were eager and willing to help him out with his morning wood. He had bonded with them both, so it was easy to tell what they wanted and how they felt about him.
Giselle preferred it when they played with each other, hands slipping into each other's pants, while he locked lips with her. Sucking on her huge boobs, drove her especially crazy, sending her into multiple orgasms. Serapha, on the other hand, needed more. She wouldn't be satisfied with anything less than intercourse; raw and hard.
His cute little friend hated having Giselle there getting in the way of their intimacy, but Linhart insisted that threesomes were the best way to share their love in the short break between lessons, though secretly he found deep-kissing Giselle while he drilled into Serapha from behind got him more excited than if he was fucking either girl by herself.
Linhart didn't like playing favorites, but he always made sure to blow his first and most potent load into Serapha. The uptight brunette needed the boost to her Fighting score more than the bombastic blond, Giselle. It was also so cute how she became submissive, moaning with pleasure, every time he creampied her.
It didn't take long for her Fighting score to skyrocket, even passing him in power.
Yes, things could not be better with Serapha and Giselle.
During Mentor Hour, however, he was running into problems with the girls of the squad. Two girls that he wasn’t sure he wanted, had forced their way into the harem, and now that they were in his head, it was impossible to avoid them.
The day after he set their pecking order, Ayame showed up with his missing ID bracer, claiming she had found it on the floor. Before he could even ask for it back, Saya came from behind and had him in a bear hug. The next thing he knew, Ayame was forcing his finger to her wrist, and they had bonded.
Now he felt a complex web of feelings and emotions that were the minds of bossy Saya and annoying Ayame, and it was getting on his nerves. Their one redeeming quality was that both were both smoking hot babes, whom he would love to screw. But he held back, always remembering how much they had pissed him off.
Unfortunately, the two of them had him in their brains as well, and felt his desires. They knew right away that he was turned on by their bodies. That he thrilled at their touch and savored their girly smells.
The idea of a boy wanting them for their sex appeal was too much for either girl. Saya and Ayame both started teasing him, and Mentor Hour became a test of his restraint, with both girls treating him like a flesh doll for their enjoyment.
Saya took to casually rubbing against him whenever she walked past, which was happening around a dozen times a day. Sometimes her hand would brush against the bulge in his pants, sending a throb of excitement through him.
Ayame stopped wearing her shirt all together.
“Why aren’t you in uniform?” Blythe asked the first time.
“We don’t have to wear uniforms for Mentor Hour, since it’s not an Academic course,” Ayame replied with ease, as if she’d prepared that excuse ahead of time. Blythe nodded, thinking nothing more of it, but Linhart's brain was short-circuiting.
“Plus, I’m so hot from my morning workout… and my tits get so sweaty.” She jiggled her beautiful, tanned breasts for emphasis and tittered her amusement when Linhart’s cheeks turned red.
Her eyes sparkled whenever she caught his eyes following her movement, but he couldn’t stop. His gaze naturally wandered to their perky firmness. If not for his early morning threesomes, he’d never have been able to resist the urge to obey the 'requests' that were being sent though this cheeky girl’s bond.
Ayame was filled with the need to ‘hug and kiss’ him? Was that really what she desired? She was a lot less kinky than he'd expected.
Saya on the other hand, was sending signals ranging from wanting him to cook a meal for her, to wanting to jerk him off. Then she switched to wanting him to lick her snatch. Once she wanted to spank him. No, she wanted to reward him with a spanking.
That’s not all. When she spoke to him, she refused to use his name or title. Instead she referred to him in a cute voice as her ‘younger brother.’ That cute tone didn’t sound right, coming from this tough girl’s mouth.
So, those were the four girls that he had bonded with in his first few days.
Since two of them had hijacked his ID bracers, he only had one remaining to bond with the twins. He regretted not locking them down more than anything. Having those two lovely vixens gang up on him had been the best sex of his life… except perhaps for when Xenia got on top of him. Gods, she could make him scream!
But the twins, how was he going to get closer with them now?
His first instinct was to use his final ID bracer to bond with Zoey, his favorite twin, but he remembered the last time he had grown too close to her and ignored Chloe. That had ended in his death.
No, he would have to be satisfied with leaving them both unbonded until he found some other way to deal with Chloe’s ‘outbursts.’
* * * * * * * * *
Four days vanished in a blur of fights, lectures, and kisses in between courses.
Linhart was enjoying a moment of quiet, sitting around the End of Day meal with his squad members. The sun had already sunk behind the mountains that shielded the west of the valley, and the light of day was fading in a stunning sky of pink and purple clouds.
Gazing to the heavens, listening to the girls complain about their Fighting courses, he thought about how much he enjoyed these peaceful moments at the end of a long day. His body hummed with the fatigue from a day of fucking and Fighting. He couldn’t wait to get back to the peace of his dorm room Floor 8 in the Fighter’s Hall.
It was at moments like these, when life seems to finally be going as planned, that trouble chose to strike. In Linhart’s case, trouble hit from two different directions, shattering the peace of the moment and reminding him that the world held many issues for him to deal with.
First, he was caught off guard by a sudden force that flowed out of his subconscious. Whether it was the spell that had been cast on him or his subconscious itself, it was a voice that spoke to him, with as much authority as his Centurion, Venus herself.
The oath that he had made just five days earlier surfaced, reminding him that he had promised to visit Celes, the Stratega Mage, in her personal quarters twice every week.
He groaned in response.
All eyes around the long table looked in his direction.
Blythe lowered the leg of goat she was gnawing on, suspicious of the sound, but for once she didn’t find Saya or Ayame bothering him. “What’s wrong, boss?” she asked, wiping the grease from her lips.
“I was just remembering something, Blythe… I made some promises on my first day at the Academy, and it's occurred to me that there are still obligations that I need to fulfill.”
“Anything we can help with?” asked Chloe. She was right next to him on the bench, and her tiny hand came up to touch his arm. When he turned, he was overcome by how big and beautiful her blue eyes were... He was enamored with the fact that she still didn’t hate him, and he would do anything to keep it that way. He had to stay on her good side.
“Nah. This is something I have to do by myself… thanks Chloe.”
Then a brusk, authoritative voice spoke from directly behind him. The second of his troubles had arrived.
“There is work to be done freshman, but not just by you… by your freshie friends, as well.”
Linhart’s heart skipped a beat. That husky voice could only belong to one girl. Maeve, the sexiest senior Fighter. Linhart rotated his head and found the lanky redhead standing right there. She was standing so close he could lean forward and lick her belly if he wanted. He resisted the temptation.
He heard Saya gasp… that damn girl was poking around in his feelings again! Why was she so tuned in on him?
Maeve’s bust with her barely concealed rosebud nipples filled his field of vision. He could’ve traced her areola through her tight pink tank top, but now was not the time. He could tell from her tone that she was displeased with him or someone at the table.
“It’s been five days and you lot haven’t stopped by to pay your respects to your seniors. Why not? Are you waiting for a hand-written invitation?”
She laughed coldly at that. Everyone knew that paper was a rare commodity and Fighters did not waste their time writing.
Maeve’s hands landed on his shoulders and rested there in an almost possessive manner. Linhart spun back to face the squad, his mind searching for how to escape the sudden demands of this senior Fighter. He saw Blythe’s face from across the table. Her mouth was set in a stubborn line, her eyes narrowed with anger.
“Umm… We were planning on stopping by tomorrow during the Midday meal,” Linhart announced. He kept his voice as steady as he could, though the confusion on the girls’ faces around the table betrayed his lie. “We would love to serve you then, Senior Maeve.”
Maeve’s fingers ran across his shoulders until she was squeezing his biceps. She leaned far over him and her long red ponytail fell like a silk rope against his face, tickling his cheek. Linhart watched as his squad members grew tense. He knew they were watching this exchange and thinking that this senior girl was playing with him.
“You heard the squad leader,” added Blythe, the threat in her voice was obvious, “We’ll serve you tomorrow.”
Maeve seemed unaffected by the girl’s aggressive response.
“You’re in luck, freshmen, because your seniors’ table is in need of servers tonight.” she said, her voice thick with sarcasm, “That way you don’t have to wait until midday tomorrow. But we only need…”
She paused for a moment and looked around the table, judging each member of Linhart’s squad with an appraising look.
“...You,” she pointed at Nyx, who was sitting unassumingly, chewing the last of the meat off a bone. She didn’t even pause, as the attention at the table turned to her, she just stared unblinkingly, as she licked the bone with her long pink tongue. What a weird girl!
“And these two precious Fighter boys. I’ve heard you eat with your female companions every day,” Maeve continued, patting Linhart on the head and gesturing to Drussus. “It's time for you to serve your seniors needs...”
“And, of course you, Blythe,” she finished with a smile. Linhart saw a look of resolve come over Blythe’s face as Maeve called her out by name.
“I suppose my sister is responsible for this!” she spat. Her voice was filled with disgust.
“Damn right she is. But she’s not your sister here… she’s your senior.”
* * * * * * * * *
It was the same group of seniors that he had greeted in the previous loop. But the mood was completely different. This is what the seniors looked like when they were attending to business. There was a solemn air settling around the magnificent women. He noticed that just Ami was missing. She must be on security detail again.
They sat like judges at a tribunal from the moment the four freshmen arrived, their attention seemed to be on Blythe. For once, Linhart felt like he was being ignored.
Well, almost…
As she took her seat, Maeve pulled him to her side and handed him a pomegranate. “Here, boy. Break off the seeds and feed them to me. Mind that you don't feed me any of the white pip. You'll be punished if you do.”
“Really?” Linhart asked a bit surprised, unsure of how to proceed with the strange fruit. “Wouldn’t you rather have me massage you? Your shoulders must be tight after leading all those Fighting courses, Senior Maeve.”
“Hmmm.... You're in one of the courses I instruct, aren’t you? I think I'll watch your moves in tomorrow's lesson.” Maeve looked him over and then scoffed, “Even though you're easy on the eyes, I doubt your hands are strong enough to give a proper massage.”
“Come on, give me a chance, Senior Maeve.”
“Very well, massage me for a minute. But if I’m not satisfied, you’ll feed me." She looked up at him, her gaze felt demanding, but the way she gestured and opened her mouth like a baby bird… This senior was adorable!
Linhart returned the pomegranate to the table and slid behind Maeve, so close that he could smell the floral scent of her hair. His temperature was rising as he pressed his fingers into her supple shoulder muscles. Her body was hard and with barely any fat on it, except for her breasts, which were plump and round. They swelled from her thin chest like two great melons. Resting within his hands-reach, he wanted so badly to touch them.
Meanwhile, Blythe was facing her big sister, who turned out to be Altheia, the strongest of the senior Fighters and the queen at this table. The tension in the air was palpable. Now was not the time to get horny, but Linhart couldn’t help himself.
Maeve squirmed as he prodded her flesh with all the force his fingers could muster. Then she released a soft, feminine gasp, as he began to cast ‘Honey Jar.’
* * * * * * * * *
