I sighed, and said in a faux overburdened tone, “I’ll hate having two sexy naked ladies snuggled into my side at night, but I’ll do my duty.”

  She snorted, “Right, why did I even ask?”

  I laughed, “Yeah, not really that shallow, but it is a point. I suspect we’re going to get along just fine, however. You’re submissive in the bedroom, and I’m not an overbearing man and will treat you like a lady in public, the same with her grace over here,” my swat on Fiona’s ass reversed my formal words in referring to her.

  Fiona snickered, “We’ll all find our way, but if you want more or less that way, all you have to do is say so. Your duties are to my pleasure and in keeping your tongue guarded, anything further is both optional and welcome.”

  She smiled, “It also means I can enhance your lovemaking together, and feed from it as well.”

  I asked curiously, “You mentioned mind magic?”

  She nodded, “Telepathy and telekinesis from a distance, and I can memory dive or mind read with physical contact. Mind control is possible, but I’ve never developed it, as its one of the darker aspects of witchcraft. You’ve already experienced my telepathy, just not in words. My welcome in the club.”

  I asked, “So, dinner, then… what did you have in mind after, Fiona? I think tonight went well, for your control and for your… preferences.”

  I’d been waiting until we were alone to discuss it, but it seemed like we weren’t going to be alone anytime soon. Not with Grace joining us in our bed for sleep as well as sex. She did have that single hiccup, but she’d regained control quickly when I’d snapped her out of it, and there was no point in making her feel bad about it any further.

  Fiona smiled, “Yes, I loved all of it, including watching you with her. Not a kink, it didn’t hit me all that hard, but it was… beautiful to watch, sensual. As for tonight, how about prison guard and Grace and I will be two prisoners that were being naughty with each other in our cell when you came along… that clearly need to be tied up, punished, and used.”

  Grace giggled, “Is this the guide part?”

  Fiona nodded, “He’s in charge of me for the duration of our trip,” her warm tone telling me she hoped I still would be after our trip, “He’s helping me define and control my sexuality. The last nine days has been a thorough introduction to all aspects of sex, now that we know what I like we’ll be expanding on those basic parts for the rest of the trip. You were group sex, domination, and watching and being watched, before you decided to join us on a permanent basis.”

  Grace looked delighted, “That sounds like fun. He should totally mark us as his wicked prison slut toys at the end of it.”

  I cleared my throat, “We haven’t tried that part of domination yet, but she does love to be dominated.”

  Grace giggled, “Oh, I’m sure Fiona will love wearing your cum.”

  Fiona bit her lip, and said breathily, “Might as well try it.”

  I snickered at her poor attempt to play off her excitement at the idea, I was in so much trouble with two of them. Grace’s kink was to satisfy her partner’s kink, but I was starting to suspect she enjoyed roleplay as much as Fiona did. Which, really, was nothing at all to complain about.

  Grace said, “After that, one of us can be head cheerleader, Damien the quarterback, and the other one of us can be a new cheerleader reluctant to play with the depraved couple, but desperate enough to do anything they demand to get on the team.”

  Fiona grinned, “You’re head cheerleader.”

  Grace laughed, “I see, interesting.”

  Fiona blushed, “I love playing the reluctant, and it drives Damien crazy.”

  That was true, I wasn’t sure what that said about me. I’d never rape a woman, but a reluctant fantasy where the woman finally gave into her passions, always drove me nuts. It was thrilling on an instinctual level, and maybe a little dark, but a hell of a rush for both of us.

  I decided I probably wasn’t going to get any sleep that night, and I was totally okay with that. Both Grace and Fiona looked too excited about all the possibilities in this new arrangement, and while a tantric witch wasn’t quite as nymphomaniac as a nymph, I was starting to suspect it wasn’t by much at all.

  We headed back out to eat dinner, which was on the table, and the ladies were busy chatting about yet another roleplay where I was a CEO, and they were two sluts competing for the same executive assistant position after both of them had fucked their way up the company to me. Each of them growing more depraved to prove to the CEO they’d make the better executive assistant and built-in fuck toy, all while acting catty toward each other and fighting over me. I had to admit, the idea of them both trying to outdo the other in pleasuring me in wicked ways… was heady.

  They were like two peas in a perverted pod, and I had the feeling my life was about to get even more interesting...

  Chapter Ten

  I knew just how spoiled I was when I woke up without Fiona’s mouth wrapped around my cock, and it felt strange. I wondered what woke me up, and a moment later the ship shook violently. Luxury yachts did not shake violently. Not even when going to full engines from a dead stop.

  I sat up and shook them both, they were both asleep on either side, and started to slide off the bottom of the bed and get dressed.

  They looked at me sleepily with annoyance. We had been up late, very late, to get through those three roleplay fantasies.

  “Ship is under attack, I’m going to find out what’s going on.”

  The annoyance cleared from their eyes, and they both jumped up and started to get dressed. Grace grabbed her ship suit, and Fiona a pair of jeans.

  I said, “No, Fi. Get your ship suit. We might lose air pressure in the attack.”

  We hadn’t used our ship suits at all, but in an attack, it was just prudent to do so. She ran to the closet and grabbed both hers and mine, and I pulled mine over the armor and strapped on my rope dart and laser pistol, as Fiona put hers on.

  She made it look damned good too, ship suits were extremely conforming, a necessity of design to protect from vacuum. They both did.

  The ship shook again, and I grabbed both of them and managed to keep my balance and hold them steady through the shaking. Then we took off toward the bridge. It was about fifty yards away from where we were, so took right around ten seconds to run the distance. We made it inside the bridge just in time to grab one of the railings and hold on as the ship shook again.

  There were two enemy ships the status display marked as light cruisers, and according to the display we were exactly halfway between the first and second station on the list. There were also three Fellowship warships coming from New Hope orbit, two light cruisers and a heavy cruiser, but it’d take hours for them to arrive.

  Regardless, we were outgunned two to one in tonnage and throw weight, and the fight would likely be long over by the time our rescuers got here to assist us. I suspected they were just another assassination attempt. Ships had never been used before, but of course they wouldn’t have been with Fiona on the ground and safely on Patience.

  This was the ninth day of the trip, we’d spent five to get to New Hope and three at the first vacation space station. More than enough time for her hidden opponent in the Fellowship to get her itinerary and set up an ambush between the first and second station in the itinerary.

  Fiona said, “Report.”

  The captain turned in his chair, and frowned at us, like he didn’t want us on the bridge, but the tactical officer replied without noticing his captain’s reluctance. I kind of got it, and for once it wasn’t just being butt hurt. The last thing the captain needed was a distraction on his bridge during a battle, but it was my responsibility to keep her safe and I needed to know what was going on.

  “Two Fellowship light cruisers. Older designs, that were retired and decommissioned. Someone must’ve taken them out of dry dock and rearmed them, your grace.”

  Well that clinched it, for ships to walk away from a secured ship dry dock after decommission, they’d need access codes to do it. Which meant it was probably the same person in the Fellowship sending the assassins. It could be another enemy, but chances were that it was the same high-ranking member that didn’t want to see a half-nymph take the prelacy. Assuming of course, that the person even fell for that little bit of bullshit, and that he or she didn’t know Fiona was a full nymph like her mother.

  I hoped Killian and the other spy masters, cardinals, found that person soon.

  Both ships were firing four missiles every thirty seconds, the second ship ten seconds after the first. Which was why the second attack had happened about ten seconds after I’d woken up, and there’d been a longer interval between the second and third attack, which had really been the third and fourth.

  We were also launching missiles, four every thirty seconds, and our lasers were targeting their missiles. We’d been hit three times so far, out of sixteen missiles, but the shields and battle metal were holding thus far.

  Currently we were out of range for ship-to-ship lasers, and it appeared the captain was retreating back toward the three ships so it was unlikely the enemy would catch us. I got the captain’s plan from that, he was hoping to knock down missiles the whole way, until the attackers were forced to break off. He was the captain of a yacht with the firing capacity of a light cruiser, but his priorities was the safety of the duchess, not to win battles.

  It was the right choice to retreat on the defensive. I just hoped it was enough.

  “Sit, your grace, and strap in.”

  Fiona looked annoyed I called her that, but also that she understood I had no choice but to be formal with her in public. That would remain true even after we were bonded as mates and married in the human system, assuming we did so.

  I took my own advice, and I waved for Grace to do the same. We all strapped in on the seats in the back of the bridge at spare and monitoring consoles that weren’t attended by crew. It was better than standing, a hard enough shake could knock us down and injure us, even holding onto a railing.

  Our supernatural powers meant absolutely nothing in a fight between starships. All we could do was watch, and the bridge was in the most fortified place on the ship, so the best place to be during the battle.

  The next two volleys we weren’t hit at all, I suspected the first surprise volley was when we were hit twice, and the second volley snuck one through too. Our own missiles weren’t doing much better, as they were close together and supporting each other with their point defense.

  Fiona said, “If they’re our ships, have you tried the tactical net?”

  The captain raised an eyebrow in her direction, “They can’t be that stupid,” then he shook his head, “Won’t hurt to try though. Frasier, see if you can initiate tac-net connection, you may need to use older codes, say from twenty years ago. They should still be in the database.”

  The woman at the operations console said, “Yes, sir. One moment.”

  Fiona explained at my questioning glance, “Tactical net let’s a fleet act as one without duplicating efforts or sustaining friendly fire incidents,” I nodded, knowing that much of course, “On our warships it’s integrated so deeply in our weapons systems and communication systems, that it would be an absolute nightmare to disable without taking all the systems down altogether. If it comes online, we’ll be a part of their fleet. They’ll no longer be able to target us because we’ll show up as friendly in their friend and foe recognition. The weapons systems will balk, if they try anyway. We won’t be able to shoot at them either, but we will be able to see on their bridge and see who is behind this. At least on the ground, if not who’s giving the orders from behind the scenes.”

  I mouthed, “So damned sexy.”

  She blushed.

  Frasier said in disbelief, “It’s coming online now, sir.”

  The officer at tactical reported, “Sir, our missiles in transit and theirs have self-destructed, automatically as we were all identified as friendlies.”

  The captain smirked, “Bring up their bridges, now.”

  Frasier said, “On screen, sir,” as the main screen showed two bridges.

  The enemy didn’t seem to notice we were spying on them, and they were going crazy. The man in the captain’s chair was screaming at the tactical officer. A moment later, his eyes turned blood red and fangs appeared. The other bridge was a similar scene.

  Oh yea, same threat, some higher up in the fellowship with an ability to recruit vampires to his or her cause. The coincidences were far too stark at that point, it had to be the same enemy.

  Frasier said, “Their names are coming up Captain, but they’re all listed as missing, and they obviously aren’t themselves anymore.”

  That meant having their names wasn’t a lead at all, they hadn’t been seen since they were turned, and knowing where they used to live in their previous lives was no help at all.

  Tactical said, “They’re breaking off, sir. Heading for the FTL line. They’ll be long gone before our backup arrives.”

  Frasier interjected, “Sir, they’re transmitting. In the open and on all frequencies.”

  The captain said, “On screen.”

  It was a man in a suit, his face covered by dark shadow to conceal his identity. There was also no jewelry, cufflinks or rings, no distinctive marks on his hands natural or otherwise.

  “Good morning, members of the Fellowship. I have dire news to deliver, and I beg you to pray and listen with an open heart. We have all been, for years now, deceived by an unnatural and evil influence at the very top of our church. Our beloved prelate twisted and corrupted by the woman who claims to be human, but the prelate’s wife is not human. Now, I am not a prude, sex is natural and god’s gift to humanity so that we procreate and grow, but she is a nymph, a fairy. This will be hard for some of you to believe, it was for me when I discovered the truth, but for hundreds of years now the Fellowship has known about the supernatural races that live side by side with humanity, for the most part they do so in peace and respect.

  “Our prelate’s harem however, is not his, it is hers. Deidra is an insatiable deviant by her very nature as a nymph, an earth nymph specifically, which is a subspecies of the fairy race. That she has led our most holy leader astray and dragged him down into the depths of depravity cannot be denied, and I will supply proof at the end of this… troubling statement. My friends, I have known this for quite a while, my heart uneasy and unsure how to fix it.

  “No matter how far he has fallen, he is still our beloved prelate, he is still human. But the prelate apparent is not human. All women born of a nymph, are nymphs themselves. They as a species procreate by ensnaring and corrupting the men of other species, including humans. To be clear, Duchess Fiona is a nymph. Not half-human, but as different from human as her mother, and mother’s mother is.

  “That discovery was the final insult that forced me to act. The idea of a sexually deviant harlot by her very nature, ascending to our most holy and reverential position, and to speak on behalf of our god, could not be endured.

  “It is my greatest fear that this statement will lead to a schism of the church, as some will be drawn in and deceived by her stunning beauty, regal grace, and public face. Her act of love and concern toward her flock may even be real, but in truth and behind closed doors she is a debased and corrupted harlot, even now in the company of another supernatural to be taught the depths and breadth of her perversions to start out her eighteenth year.

  “Yes, I fear a schism is almost inevitable, which is why I took it upon myself to remove her from the running. My heart heavy as I attempted to guard our highest burden of office from her corruption. It was not easy. But, I have also failed. She lives still, a stain of corruption in the high halls of the Fellowship, and all my efforts have been for naught. I fear I will shortly be identified and caught, so I plead with the rest of the Fellowship to continue my humble work.”

  Humble work, was this guy for fucking real?

  He continued, “I urge the bishops to pray and consider a vote on this issue, do not let Duchess Fiona succeed her father. A change of family in the top position of the church hasn’t happened for centuries, perhaps it is time for new blood to reenergize our faith. Perhaps if that is done, our duchess can even be spared. I do not wish a war with the supernaturals either, and in the end she truly can’t help what she is. She’s not even a bad person, just helplessly depraved in sexual matters which corrupts the hearts of good honest men.

  “I urge the church to act, and not split apart into factions. I pray my fears on that matter will not come to fruition. Good night, and god bless you all.”

  He disappeared, and I downloaded the proof to my augmented reality. This was really bad. Deidra and Fiona had just been outed in a huge way. The digital proof was in pictures. None of Fiona, thank god, I’d had that covered and she’d only been having sex for a little over a week.

  Deidra however, had picture after picture, which infuriated me. Someone in the temple guard had to be compromised too, because all but approved camera use should be suppressed as a matter of course inside the temple itself.

  The first few weren’t really that bad I thought, the first a picture of one of her fine and respectable dresses. The next few racier and racier lingerie and fetish wear like schoolgirl, maid, and hot nurse, all with her having a salaciously inviting look on her face and in her body language. In fact, I suspected these first pictures were a sexy gift for her husband, a fashion show of a sultry and tempting manner, and someone unfriendly to a nymph in the church had somehow gotten their unauthorized hands on it.

  Someone with security access to their private files, someone in the temple guard.

  After that, well it was perverted, and damned hot, but the outing part of things made it so I really didn’t enjoy seeing them. It felt like a breach of trust and invasion of privacy, and as hot as she was my dick shriveled, instead of growing. Pictures of her tied up in one of the outfits, while being whipped or paddled. Sometimes by the prelate himself, others by her harem.