StarChaser: Another (18+)

Concirrica Palace:

The Banquet Hall of Concirrica Palace was filled as usual, dignitaries, aristocrats, and merchants having come far and wide. They had spent much of the day waiting their turn to ask the King or ministers in charge for various favors, to receive awards, form deals, and other functions one would expect from the Throne Room. The richly-dressed guests mingled with each other, some speaking with elation about a favor granted, a deal made, and a negotiation completed, while others spoke hopefully of the promising words given to them.

Also tonight, the news of the subjugation of the Red Priest, the leader of the notorious Order of the Red Moon, the disgraced daughter of House Corven. The Knights of Ontala Fort were present, regaling the guests of their exploits of a daring raid and a forbidden summoning ritual put to an end.

Trumpets blew, signaling everyone’s attention to the Grand Staircase where Princess Philia made her entrance. She was dressed as if she herself had become the reigning Queen. Behind her wide beaming smiles she was nervous, probably far more nervous than the girl  waiting on the opposite end of the Banquet Hall, hidden behind the double doors.

 

Princess’ Philia’s speech was muffled behind the double doors. Ingrid stood waiting for her cue, accompanied by two stately courtiers that in her eyes would’ve made great Handsome Butler archetypes. Apparently they moonlighted as knights as well, obviously for security if she lashed out or got angry, meanwhile behind her were her usual mage troupe. Besides the sausage party (her own words) around her, the only other girl in this troupe was some noble’s daughter that looked straight out of a K-pop idol group.

I’m going to name them, Sebastian 1 and 2 for these two hunky guys, The Boy Band for the mages, and miss K-pop idol, Ingrid thought to herself.

Compared to the rest of this handsomely dressed entourage, Ingrid had on only a velvety cloak and high-heeled sandals. Underneath that was just jewelry; several necklaces as well as bracelets and anklets. A custom made metal “frame” was fitted over her “chest mounted” core jewel, a pair of large multi-fringe earrings that could probably ransom a king hung from her lobes. Her hair had been expertly done up in twin tails, held up in big elaborate hair pins that made her think she had golden cat ears and finally some flowers on her hair.

K-pop girl was running her through on what to do once the doors opened, something along the lines of throwing off the cloak and striking a pose, and while they chew up the scenery atop a red carpet the flower girls scatter blossoms all over it (Good luck getting that out of the carpet, Ingrid thought.) K-pop would need to introduce her to select guests and she would need to make a show of bowing.

So do standing stomach crunches Ingrid thought. Now that she knew she was in the royal palace there probably were a lot of big shots involved.

This Princess Philia’s voice started to rise in volume and excitement that it reminded  her of a certain underground ring announcer. I want her to be my announcer when I hit the ring, Ingrid thought. Cecil, you’ve met your match.

As she wondered what happened to her familiar, the doors opened. The Mages used their bind spell to apply a grip to her limbs, not exactly to move her body but guide her through the motions. 

“Look sharp Eliria” K-pop said.

 

Light flooded the anteroom where Ingrid was, and everyone beheld the cloaked figure. A leash on her neck held by “Sebastian 1” to her left. The Mage’s staves lit up and the cloaked figure raised her arms and with dramatic flourish snapped them  downward so they were held up at her sides.

The crowd broke into cheers, laughter, jeering, and applause as Eliria presented her naked body before the gathered crowd, her breasts bouncing in opposite circles from her vigorous movement.

“I present to you, the Red Priest of the Red Moon Cult, Eliria!” Philia said in her announcer voice, you should’ve worn red, Ingrid thought. She had (rightly) assumed that Philia omitted the last name as she was no longer considered part of the Corven family.

With a tug on her leash from Sebastian 1, Ingrid started walking forward, her arms held up high to the sides like a crucifixion pose, palms facing up to bare her nudity for everyone’s viewing pleasure. As she walked, the Mage’s bind spells invisibly nudged and pushed at her body so she would walk in a very sultry, sexual gait; sashaying her hips, her breasts and butt bouncing with every step.

A small swarm of what looked like flying eyes with bat wings descended from their roosts on the ceiling. Four glowing sigils on the wall high above, forming the corners of a rectangle generated a live feed, allowing everyone in the crowd to see what the bats were seeing. While Ingrid herself couldn’t see it since it was behind her, her guess was pretty much accurate considering where the bats were looking.

 

Philia watched Ingrid parade being paraded down the red carpet with mixed feelings. Unlike her, she reincarnated from day one, the day she was born and then it was really hazy until a few days later then, from there she had to work herself back to the last time she died, having to attend school and then insinuate herself into the family business in order to get her plan working. Having her own harem of pretty girls was definitely all she needed to kick back and enjoy life as it is.

Then she met Eliria Corven, the first time she saw her she thought that Ingrid was going to end her life right then and there, why not? As Melrondia she had done everything to deserve such a fate. But instead, this very friendly girl came up and hugged her, much to the consternation of Selphie but it was clear she was only a look-alike. 

It was very difficult enacting her secret plan when eventually her own heart was betraying her and soon, Eliria knew why Philia would utter a certain name at times. When she learned why, Eliria wasn’t angry at all. It seemed that she found a new direction in life. When her own family issues caused her to be disowned she genuinely felt terrible. If someone was going to ask her who it was she really felt bad for, either Ingrid for killing her or Eliria putting herself in trouble not only with the law but also with her own cult, it was hard to say.

She figured that Ingrid at this point was completely unconcerned with the insults they were giving her, she had a bit of an exhibitionist streak after all, she always was the one to suggest skinny dipping, nudist colonies, and jumping in the tub with boys. She never bothered to know why; after all, everyone had their own bit of weirdness in them. For all she knew she saw one too many certain music videos or college comedy dramas and the idea of doing something this outrageous became her idea of fun, who knew?

At this point, Ingrid was already living in the worst case scenario; the “your life is screwed” scenario and in the same token, it could also be the best scenario as she now could be backed by the Princess herself. At that point, she could ham it up all she liked. She didn’t know these people, what they thought of her or rather, of who occupied this body was irrelevant and anything they’d say to her face was going to sound straight out of an NPC in a kinky VR simulation. The coincidence was so fortuitous that it struck her as cliche.

While Ingrid probably was trying to not laugh from NPC no. 2887’s cliche lines, Philia was trying to keep a straight face while she watched Eliria suffer this degradation. She distracted herself with adding another vector to her plan, Ingrid after al,l accepted to be her in her employ. The thought of her end goal helped her calm down.

 

As K-pop introduced Ingrid to another former acquaintance of Eliria’s, small sigils appeared near her joints, guiding her through the motions they wanted. She regarded the guests in the most servile way possible, bowing very low at the waist while gesturing with her arms, which caused a lot of guests to break out in a combination of cheers, derisive laughter, and lustful catcalls and whistles as they beheld her most intimate ladyhood exposed in all of its glory, the gold ring and weighted jewelry dangling from the clitoris causing her folds to blossom into undeniable arousal.

The object that elicited the most ridicule however was the large cylinder that buggered her. It was rimmed (heh, phrasing, Ingrid thought)  with gold while the rest of the surface was black metal, on it’s face was the gold plaited insignia bearing Princess Philia’s personal crest, letting all know that Eliria was now her personal property, in addition to marking every cushion she would sit on as Philia’s too. It protruded only enough so she could still sit with only a slight amount of discomfort, although Ingrid’s personal force field rendered such a discomfort irrelevant, putting a cushion of air between her butt and whatever chair she’d be on, the association of which was yet another thing that Ingrid’s psyche was waving around to try to make her laugh, but she kept her act.

After briefly bowing, she straightened up quickly, giving the guest her before her a first-hand look at her breasts bouncing before their eyes, the motion enhanced with her (in her own words) anti-gravity nipple rings that yanked them around to perform the jiggling that was pleasing to the eye.

She only had to take a detour a few times, figuring that these dignitaries were probably ones that the royal family wanted to show her off to to probably make a statement; an “all is under control” assurance that they’ve taken care of the biggest problem in the kingdom.

Except that the biggest problem in the kingdom isn’t the one with the princess’ seal in her ass, it’s the princess herself. Ingrid thought. 

She was sort of expecting to see notable people in Eliria’s life, at the very least to get a better idea on who her former identity was. Philia may have spoken well about her, and that she was completely on-board with the otherworlder summoning plan but she didn’t know what it was that caused her to be disowned in the first place. 

Only a few she had to make a rigamarole of showing contrition to were peers of hers, usually the rich daughters of high-ranking aristocrats, but their words revealed only schadenfreude out of petty dislike and disdain towards someone who was trying to sidle up with the King’s favorite daughter, that and being a cult leader of the world’s worst set of fanatics. Nothing about Eliria being stuck up or unlikeable, nothing about her being some poor, adopted bastard daughter…and apparently nobody mentioning anything about her and Princess getting it on, unless maybe they held their tongues so as not to create a conga line tomorrow night due to Lese Majeste.

All she could gather was stuff she already saw in the mirror. Nice tits, uh-huh… bigger than my old ones, and I’ll take that compliment. Nice body, yes…I have cardio regularly, it comes with the territory when you’re wrenching off the monster-of-the-week’s head. Looking good, I guess? I’m literally wearing enough jewelry to buy me a house on Expensive Street corner of Posh Avenue, an hour’s drive away from Goldini’s Golden five-hundred dollar steaks every night. You should be outraged that a literal terrorist is wearing something like a necklace straight out of Nefertiti’s tomb. 

Or maybe that was part of Philia’s game. These rings looked like they were hacked out of the fingers of an entire empire, they looked so good they should be on the fingers of a Queen, not some harem dancer. Was she literally saying to these people “fuck off, she’s mine”?

The thought just made her smile a little bit, but her questions remained unanswered. One girl remarked she was such a wallflower, sounds like jealousy. Ingrid pondered on this a bit. Eliria wasn’t doing anything ambitious, her only crime was hanging out with the princess and by proxy preventing the other girls seeking to enrich themselves off of Philia’s friendship.

As she turned to the side to greet the select guests she saw what it was that was making the crowd excited. The eye-bat things were  projecting onto some magic titantron closeups of her face, breasts, butt and crotch. Whoever was controlling them probably would put some coordinator on earth back to shame because they seem to know which angle to use and when, and she probably knew what filled the screen when she bent over to bow and why everyone, and not just the ones behind her let up a loud cheer when she presenting the Princess Philia’s Official Seal of Approval.

 

After reaching Philia, the princess stepped forward and took the leash from Sebastian 1’s hands, raising her arm she announced “Esteemed guests, the Red Priest Eliria, and now my own personal pet.”

There we go, so that’s what the real tension in the room is. Ingrid held her “Look At Me!” pose as she noticed there was some hesitation but the applause was long and loud. Favoritism shouldn’t be a foreign concept but apparently whatever it was Eliria had made her thugs do was pretty serious, but still, this red carpet routine should have impressed on them that she could be controlled, even though in reality she was the one puppeting herself the whole time, she even put a set of small forcefields for her to lean on as she bowed.

 

“Very professional of you, Ingrid, stop playing with yourself” Philia said in a whisper, knowing that the gold rings’ vibrations were not in their suite of functions. 

“You wanted a show, princess.” Ingrid whispered back, the sound of the ravenous crowd below masking their conversation. 

“Well don’t burn yourself out, I want some of that.” Philia hissed

“Inter-office romance confirmed!” Ingrid teased.

“Shush! Not in front of my sexy secretary.” Philia said, glancing sideways at Selphie, who fortunately for them couldn’t understand English.

“Fuck me, you’re actually banging your maids…finger banging…sorry.” Ingrid said in ill-concealed amusement.

Philia leaned forward this time to whisper even though nobody could understand them “…there’s this thing called magic, and I’m packing if I want to be.” she meaningfully looked down at her skirts then back to Ingrid. 

“Is that common?” Ingird asked, but Philia shook her head. “Holy shit,” she chuckled “you’re committing graft and corruption just to fuck your officemate.”

“Nobody commits graft and corruption unless sex is involved.” Philia reminded her.

To the rest of the people in the Banquet  Hall it looked like the two were bickering, with probably Eliria asking if Philia is enjoying the power she now held over her, but something she whispered in Eliria’s ear made her chuckle, probably a morbid amusement that she’ll finally be put out of her misery after this degrading night, or maybe  it was bravado that she’ll die a martyr.

 

Ingrid was displayed atop a table with a rotating platform at the center of the room, guests from all sides surrounded her as the mages standing well away from the action used their Bind spells to have her assume one humiliating erotic pose after another. Ingrid let them, mindful not to resist too much or they’ll think she’s too dangerous to be left alone with Philia. 

The gossip around her this time was now more slanderous, that it bordered on ridiculous Wait, I banged some boys in the afternoon, but still had time to attend a full class in the Academy?. Well make up your mind, did I bang fifty guys or did I attend Potions and Alchemy 101 and flirt with the professor? You can’t have both. Fifty guys is a lot, and don’t tell me they’re not going back for seconds! …And now the King’s horse? Look, if anyone can sneak into the royal stables, then there should be a couple of nobles waking up in the morning screaming after unrolling their blanket. A king’s can’t ride up in a crappy-looking steed he just got off from a random farm…oh, phrasing.

What? Philia didn’t have a dog, and if she did, how could that even be known? No matter how damaging such a lie would be to Eliria, that still puts a stain on Princess Philia, that is NOT something you want to talk about when the Princess is in the room with you. Seriously you guys need to practice your watercooler gossip skills. And don’t do those rumors when you’re next to what’s literally a fluffy dog person next to you, you’re gonna insinuate he’s gross, that pretty lady he’s next to, oh now she’s gonna feel weird. 

All these lies made it hard for Ingrid to believe even the stuff that Eliria did as The Red Priest. Committing robbery on merchant caravans was one of the few believable things, but it still clashed with the things she heard about the cult supposedly having supporters among aristocrats who could support them secretly. 

Performing vile rites involving human sacrifice also didn’t make sense to Ingrid but she wasn’t exactly knowledgeable with the process. Did the summoned otherworlder need to inhabit someone’s body and thus why Eliria had to sacrifice herself? Or did they simply need to sacrifice a lot of lives in the process? If so, why did Eliria include herself? Or maybe it was both; the sacrificed people serving as the energy source and then Eliria as the catalyst.

She didn’t know, she wasn’t in a sci-fi cliche where the villain tells all his plans, she was the villain and all the jeering and horny guests around her were going by regurgitated tenth-hand information. 

 

“Princess Philia, are your serious in making her your Pleasure Slave?” one said as she joined the table.

On cue, the Mages used their spells to pull at Ingrid’s arms and legs. As she currently was facing away from the Princess, they had her bend over, putting on hands on her knees and standing with her feet wide apart, exposing her most intimate parts for all to see, the degrading seal topping it all.

“Yes, as you can see, she’s completely powerless, if we released her and gave her a knife she would slit her own throat by now.” Philia said dreamily as the glorious view of Ingrid’s upturned rump filled her eyes, She snapped her fingers and the mages understood, awkwardly making Ingrid step down from the rotating platform and crab-walk backwards to her. With that, Ingrid was “forced” down to all fours, her face and breasts squashed against the table, while Philia’s thumbs gently prised apart her wet folds, seeing it throb in (to everyone’s eyes) unwanted arousal

“I will teach her body to beg to be treated like this every day.” she purred in genuine pleasure, noting that even the seal was rhythmically twitching like a living thing. There were a lot of oooh’s and aaah’s as they beheld the sight, an eye-bat flying in to broadcast a closeup of Eliria’s spread open genitals was met with applause, the Red Priest was thoroughly broken in.

“Hahaha! Looks like she can’t wait to be taken” said one snobbish guest.

“In the end, despite being such a religious nut, she’s only human, look at how she’s twitching in anticipation!”

“What can I say, those cultists are a devious bunch after all! Hahaha!”

As Philia answered some questions she helped herself playing bongos on Ingrid’s butt cheeks,slapping a rhythm that only she and Ingrid knew.

“What about your Lord Father, your grace? Will he even permit you to spare her life?” a merchant asked out of genuine curiosity. 

“He will! Look at her! What dignity is left of The Red Priest? If you were a cultist, is this the look of a beloved leader?” Philia made an especially hard slap across her perfect pair of cheeks, expertly hiding the pain when one of her knuckles had smashed against the seal protruding between them. It was one of the daily rigors of being royalty that one trained to keep their poker face and it served her well. That hurt!

“N-no, your grace. If I was one of them, her death would not make her a martyr.” the merchant said.

“But still, your grace” another aristocrat asked, watching the butt cheeks jiggle in unison as Philia clapped them together “such a vile criminal sharing your bed, would it not be scandalous?”

The Princess laughed “...I’m already scandalous for being her friend! I had no idea she was going to join the Red Moon, and besides.” her tone was now serious “It’s important I know everything she knows about the cult… it will  prove…" she paused as she helped herself to a few more butt slaps “...useful.” With a tug of her ponytail, Ingrid knew it was time to get back on the platform.

As more asked the princess their questions, Ingrid was reading the morse code.

“One of my co-conspirators has gone rogue. Kill him later. Minister Halthrone, guy in the blue cloak, greying hair…”